King of Clubs (Aces & Eights Book 2)

by Sandra Owens

  Court groaned. “I got so immersed in looking into Peter that I forgot to check on her.”

  “How’d she take him threatening you?”

  “Not well. She started talking about disappearing again. I want to break something every time she says that.”

  Alex leaned against the wall. “Start teaching her how to defend herself so she feels like she has some power to deal with them if either one comes after her. I did that with Madison when her cousin was messing with her. Made a big difference in her confidence.”

  “I plan to. If she’s not too tired, I’ll start this afternoon before heading to the bar.”

  “Take tonight off. She shouldn’t be alone after hearing Peter’s threats.”

  “You’ll need to be here tonight anyway,” Nate said, walking back into the room. “Taylor will stop by around eight.”

  “Great. In the meantime, I’ll keep digging. Right now, I’m trying to follow some money trails, but they’re disappearing into Mother Russia. I’ll get there, though.”

  “Whatever you learn, we’ll have to find a way to legally get the evidence.” Nate lifted his hand in a wave. “I’m heading to the bar. Call me if Taylor comes up with anything good.”

  Court nodded. “Will do.”

  “I’m off, too,” Alex said. “Catch you later.”

  He followed them down the hallway, intending to check on Lauren. As he walked behind them, he was tempted to tug on Nate’s ponytail and ask what the deal was with Taylor. But Nate was closemouthed when it came to something he didn’t want to talk about, and there was nothing you could do to change that short of torture. Probably not even then.

  Since Lauren was still asleep, he decided to take a quick shower. Ten minutes later, he walked into the living room with a towel wrapped around his waist.

  “Hey, sleepyhead,” he said, seeing her sitting up.

  She yawned. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

  “That’s okay.” He stepped in front of her. “Are you rested up enough to have a lesson in self-defense?”

  “With a naked man?” Mischief shimmered in her eyes just before she yanked off his towel. “That’s an offer I can’t refuse.”

  “Not exactly what I had in mind, but I can adapt.” He scooped her up, carrying her to his room. “We’ll start with wrestling, and for that, we need a good mat.”

  She giggled when he dropped her on the mattress. Grinning, he toppled onto her, catching his weight on his elbows. “Now, says the teacher to the student, let’s see who can pin whom.”

  “You’re going to be crying uncle real soon, Teach.”

  “Says you.” When she tried to flip him over, he laughed at the determined expression on her face. Because it suited him to have her straddling him, he let her pin him. “I missed you, Gorgeous Girl,” he said, meaning it with every fiber of his being.

  “My heart hurt every day without you,” she softly said.

  “Good. Only fair mine wasn’t the only one. Now take off your clothes.”

  Lauren assumed the shooter’s stance that Court had taught her, aimed her Baby Glock at the chest of the paper bad guy, and pulled the trigger. She removed her ear protectors, leaned forward, and squinted at the target.

  “Ouch,” Court said with a laugh. “Poor guy will never sire children.”

  She giggled. “I swear I aimed for his chest.”

  “You keep shutting your eyes right before you fire, then you drop your hands.” He gave her a soft smile. “You don’t like the thought of shooting someone, which is why those beautiful eyes of yours keep closing.”

  “I don’t know if I can, even if it’s Stephan or Peter.” She would have nightmares the rest of her life.

  “Listen to me. If it’s a choice between them or you, you don’t stop to think about it. You shoot to kill.” He curled his fingers over her gun hand, pointing it away, and then he wrapped his other arm around her, holding her close. “I hope it never comes to that, but you’ve got to get your mind in the right place on this. You have the right to protect yourself, and if the time comes and you need to and you don’t, I’ll be a real unhappy man.”

  “I know that in theory, but—”

  “There are no buts, Lauren, not when your life is at stake.” He kissed the top of her head. “Suppose you have to shoot someone to save my life. Could you do that?”

  She didn’t even have to think about it. “Yes. I wouldn’t hesitate.”

  “Is your life worth less than mine then?”

  “No. It’s just that—”

  “Stop it.” He leaned away, peering down at her. “You have to know when you point a gun at someone that you’ll follow through if it comes down to it. If you can’t, then you’ve made a bad situation worse. At your hesitation, he’ll shoot you first. If he doesn’t already have a weapon, then you’ve supplied him with one, because if you don’t use it he will.”

  “I know all that.” It was the same thing she’d been telling herself ever since she’d bought the gun.

  “Think about it another way. What if he does manage to get your gun away, kills you, then turns it on me? Because you couldn’t pull the trigger, you got us both killed.”

  She had never imagined that scenario, and it chilled her to the bone to think she could be the reason they both died. She glanced at the gun in her hand. Its purpose was to kill, and she hated that she even owned one. But this wasn’t a game Stephan and Peter were playing. It was real, and there wasn’t a doubt in her mind that either one of them would harm her or Court if given half the chance. She couldn’t envision Court allowing it to come to that, but if it did? A calm resolve settled in her mind.

  She met Court’s eyes. “I can pull the trigger if it becomes necessary.” He must have heard the determination in her voice, seen it in her eyes, because he gave her a satisfied nod.

  “Good girl.” He put his hands on her shoulders, turning her to face the target. “Let’s try something. Aim and keep firing until your clip is empty. I’m guessing you’ll automatically close your eyes the first time you pull it, but I bet you’ll open them as you keep shooting.”

  As he’d predicted, she did exactly what he’d said. Once she learned to keep her eyes open, he had her practice for another thirty minutes. “Yes!” she exclaimed when her last shot hit in the vicinity of the silhouette’s chest.

  “You did great,” Court said. “We’ll come back in the morning for some more practice.”

  “Okay, but before we leave, how about showing me what you got, Mr. Agent Man.”

  He smirked as he picked up the gun—bigger than hers—that he’d brought to the shooting range. “Watch and learn.”

  She stepped to the side as she put her ear protectors back on. The past three days had been spent at a gym, Court teaching her how to use her feet, knees, fingers, and hands to defend herself. Surprisingly, she’d loved her time on the mat. Some of the things he’d taught her, she knew in theory. It was learning how to put everything into practice that eased her fear somewhat.

  Today had been her first day at a shooting range. Already she was more confident in handling her gun, but even more gratifying, between her self-defense and weapons training, she had a sense of power she’d never felt before.

  She still prayed she’d never have to aim her gun at anyone and pull the trigger. If it meant her life or Court’s, however, she would do what she had to do. That was the most important thing she’d learned today, and she owed it to the man putting on his ear protectors.

  She watched as he spread his legs, lifted his weapon, and fired one shot after the other without pausing. Her gaze landed on the silhouette, where a quarter-sized hole appeared in the middle of the chest.

  “Seriously?” she muttered. He’d told her his clip held fifteen bullets, and every single one had gone through the same hole. She shook her head in astonishment.

  He glanced at her, an eyebrow cocked, and an arrogant grin on his face. “Are you duly impressed?”

  She shrugged. “Not bad.”<
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  “Not bad the lady says,” he muttered, looking up at the ceiling. He set his gun on the shelf, pulled off his ear protectors, and then prowled toward her, amusement lighting his eyes. “Maybe I can convince you to revise that opinion. You know, something like, Wow, Court, that was some amazing shooting.”

  “Oh, was it?” She backed up a step as he crowded her. “I mean, I have nothing to compare it to. How do I know Nate or Alex can’t do better?” She backed up again, hitting the wall.

  “Now where you gonna go?” He braced his hands on the wall. “Remember that little talk we had about which brother you’re supposed to admire?”

  “Nate?”

  “Wrong answer.”

  “Alex?” She grinned. “Did you just growl?”

  He tilted his head, lowered his mouth close to hers, and said, “I think you need to be taught a lesson, G.G.”

  “And you’re just the man to do it?” She loved that he felt free to tease her the way he had when they’d first met. The last thing she wanted him to do was to feel like he had to walk on eggshells around her.

  “I sure am.” He brushed his lips over hers. “By the time I’m through with you, you won’t be uttering any name but mine.”

  She didn’t doubt it. “Hmm, that’s a pretty bold statement. I don’t know if you’re up to the task.”

  “Oh ye of little faith.”

  The man was driving her crazy. He felt good pressed against her, he smelled delicious, and if he didn’t kiss her right now—He kissed her. She put her hands on the sides of his waist as she opened her mouth in invitation.

  His phone buzzed, and he stilled. She moaned in disappointment. When he stepped back, she blinked, looking around. Unbelievable. She’d forgotten they were in a public building. No one seemed to be paying them any attention, at least.

  After a short conversation, Court stuck his phone back into his pocket. “That was Taylor. She’s got some of Peter’s emails translated. She’ll meet us at my place in an hour.”

  “I guess we should go then.”

  He trailed his finger over her bottom lip. “We’ll finish your lesson later, Ms. Montgomery.”

  She patted his ass. “I’m counting on it.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  “You got through more than I expected,” Court said, flipping through the stack of translated emails Taylor handed him. She’d only had the printouts for three days, and it looked like about a hundred pages in the folder.

  “I tried to hurry and get them back to you, so I didn’t take the time to think much about what I was translating.”

  “No problem. I’d want to read them myself, anyway.”

  Sitting at the dining room table with him and Lauren, Taylor glanced between them. “Nate explained to you that, as far as you know, I don’t speak Russian.”

  “Your secret’s safe with us.” He glanced at Lauren, who nodded. “We really appreciate it, Taylor.”

  She stood. “That’s about half of what you gave me. I’ll have the rest to you in two or three days.”

  “You’re the best.” He grinned. “But we already knew that.”

  “Thanks, Taylor,” Lauren said. “If anything in those emails helps Court build a case, I’ll owe you big-time.”

  “You don’t owe me a thing. I have no use for men who can’t take no for an answer.”

  “Tell me about it,” Lauren muttered.

  Taylor touched Lauren’s shoulder. “You’ve got Court and his brothers on your side. You couldn’t pick a better team.”

  “I’m finding that out,” Lauren said, looking at him.

  Court saw Taylor out, then walked into the kitchen. “Beer?”

  “Sure. Taylor’s nice.”

  He handed Lauren one of the bottles. “She is.”

  “She’s also very pretty.”

  “She’s that, too.” He opened the folder containing the emails.

  “Were you . . .”

  At her pause, he looked up. “Ever involved with her?” Was she jealous? He kind of liked that.

  “Or thought about it?”

  “No and no. I can certainly appreciate that she’s beautiful, but I’ve never seen her as more than a fellow agent.”

  From her pleased smile, he figured that satisfied her. “Do you have something to do while I go through these emails?” he asked.

  He picked up the top one. It was to Peter, apparently from a friend in Russia bragging that his son had made the Olympic hockey team. Unless it was code for something else, there was nothing of use in it.

  “Can I help?”

  He almost said no, but this was her life, too. And actually, she could be helpful. “Yeah.” He handed her some pages. “Since you know Peter better than me, you might catch something I wouldn’t. Watch for anything that sounds odd or doesn’t fit with the rest of the contents.”

  “Got it.”

  “If something does catch your eye, put it to the side.”

  They worked in silence for an hour, and with each email he read, he got a better sense of Peter. The man was arrogant, selfish, and an ass. He was also stupid for saving all these emails, never considering that anyone would hack into his computer. There had been firewalls and passwords, but they’d been at the level of an amateur. Court hadn’t had any problem getting past them.

  Lauren sat back in her chair and stretched. “You must be getting hungry. I know I am. How about I order a pizza?”

  “Sounds great.” He scrolled through his phone, then handed it to her. “Here’s the number. I like anything but olives and anchovies.”

  “Mushrooms and Italian sausage sound good?”

  “Making my mouth water.”

  While she was ordering the pizza, he picked up the next email, read it, and smiled. “Gotcha,” he murmured.

  Lauren handed him his phone. “Forty-five minutes. My eyes need a rest. I think I’ll take a shower.”

  “’Kay,” he said absently, flipping through the sheets, looking for one particular name on the To or From line. After he pulled out all those with the name he was looking for, he read them over again. The emails weren’t enough to win a case against the Kozlovs, but he had more than enough leads to pursue now. Thanks to Peter’s carelessness, they had solid proof that the Kozlov brothers were involved in extortion and kidnapping for ransom. Unsurprisingly, their targets were Russian pro hockey players. Court guessed that was only the tip of the iceberg.

  “Both your asses are mine,” he said. He closed the folder, then remembered he hadn’t let Jorge know they were expecting a pizza. He called down to the lobby. Their doorman had taken it as a personal affront that Vadim Popov had managed to get past him, and was now giving every visitor the third degree.

  “A shower was just what I needed,” Lauren said, coming back to the table. “I’m all refreshed and ready to start again after I get something in my stomach.”

  He glanced at his watch. They still had fifteen minutes before the pizza arrived. “A shower sounds good. I think I’ll take a quick one before we eat.”

  “You’ll feel better for it.”

  “A kiss will make me feel even better.” He pulled her chair in front of him so they were facing each other. “Bring those sexy lips over here,” he said, leaning forward.

  She put her mouth against his, then caught his bottom lip in a gentle bite. He groaned as desire shot straight through him. Cradling her cheek with his palm, he angled his head, deepening the kiss. She had the sweetest taste, one he could drown in.

  Damn, he loved kissing her. He didn’t want to stop, but another second and he’d forget about a shower and pizza. “Is it too late to cancel the pizza?” he said, forcing himself to let go of her lips.

  “My stomach says yes.” She took his hand, putting it over her sex. “This part of me says no.” Grinning at him, she said, “Which will win?”

  “Both. We’ll eat and then take up where we left off. Win-win.” He let go of her. “I’ll only be a few minutes. Don’t go anywhere.”

 
; “I’ll be right here, waiting for you.”

  “You damn well better be. I have plans for you.” He gave her one more quick kiss before heading for the shower.

  Lauren admired his butt as he walked away, and then went back to reading the emails. How had she lived with Stephan for two years, only suspecting near the end of their marriage that he and his brother were involved in criminal activities? Okay, in her defense, once Stephan had showed his true self, she’d done her best to ignore anything to do with the two of them. Why hadn’t she paid more attention?

  She frowned as she read one of Taylor’s translated emails between Peter and Vadim, dated almost seven months ago.

  From Peter: He is obsessed with her. I do not know why. She is a dog compared to the women he could have picked. The only way he will agree to return to Russia is if she comes with him.

  She was a dog? “Screw you, Peter.” She read the next one.

  From Vadim: Is she a fool? He is our greatest living hockey player. They will live as king and queen when they return.

  From Peter: In my opinion he is the fool. When will you arrive? He wants her ready to go when he is released.

  From Vadim: I will email you my flight details in a few days. Keep an eye on her.

  Lauren put her hand on her chest, attempting to suck air back into her lungs. They planned to take her to Russia? Court needed to see these emails. She snatched them up, heading for the bathroom.

  The doorbell rang. Dammit. The pizza delivery. She detoured to the kitchen counter where her purse was, dropped the emails on the counter, got her wallet, and pulled out a twenty and ten for the pizza and a tip. Even if it was too much, she didn’t care. Whatever it took to get rid of the man so she could get to Court. She put her eye to the peephole. Yep, it was their pizza.

  “Here,” she said, thrusting the money at the man wearing a ball cap and holding a pizza box. She was too late recognizing Vadim. He slapped a cloth filled with something sickening smelling over her mouth and nose before she could scream.

  “Did you kill him?”

  Lauren recognized Peter’s voice. She’d woken up a few minutes earlier when the car she was in went over a speed bump too fast, almost bouncing her off the backseat.