Scars: A Killers Novel, Book 5

by Brynne Asher

  I sigh and don’t want to think about what this means, how it’s not safe for my family to sleep in my own damn house. How the CIA not only traced my government phone but tapped my personal one too. There’s no way they could’ve found us otherwise.

  “Are you okay?” Gracie probes, eyeing Bella.

  She sighs and gives me more of her weight. “Exhausted. I hate to complain, but I need to call it a night.” She looks to the men standing in front of us. “Is everything set for tomorrow?”

  Grady nods. “Our most trusted pilot is scheduled. You take off at seven. I have transcripts of Randolph’s conversations for you to read. We’re working on Kasey’s line to see who she called tonight. Asa is still manning the wires. Between your boss, his boss, Randolph, and the reporter, it was a busy night.”

  “Come on.” Gracie breaks away from Jarvis and reaches for Bella’s shoes, purse, and wig. “Let’s get you settled. I went to Cole’s house with Grady and packed you a small bag. Girl, all I have to say is I’m sorry you’re not ready for a trip to the islands. I never thought you’d need a bikini. You can get one when you get there.”

  I give Bella a squeeze. “Get settled. I’m going to check on Abbott and talk to Red since we’re leaving. I’ll meet you in bed.”

  Bella winces and makes her way over the rocks to the front porch. Before she gets in the door, she pinches her contacts out and turns around to look at me once more. And just like that, she’s back. My Bella—blond hair in a mess of waves and bright eyes piercing me through the dark.

  I lift my chin to tell her to go and find myself left with Crew, Grady, and the overly-irritated Jarvis.

  I hand Crew his gun. “It came in handy. I assume you all heard everything?”

  “Everything,” Jarvis bites.

  I shake that off because I don’t care. I wouldn’t change a thing about tonight.

  Okay, maybe the car chase.

  And the shooting.

  And trashing Jarvis’s car.

  And paying a fucking mint for a crap dinner.

  But other than that, not one thing.

  “Was Nick Peterson chatty after our incident?”

  “Not really,” Crew answers. “No one to be chatty with. He’s tried to call his men more than his boss called him, which is a damn lot. They’re not happy you might be living and breathing right now and there was more chatter about Penn Simmons. They want him dead and you wouldn’t do it, so now they want you dead too.”

  I pull in a big breath. “Going to work next week will be awkward.”

  “That’s one way to put it,” Grady drawls.

  Jarvis turns away from his car for the first time. “We still know nothing about Simmons that would explain why Peterson and his boss want him out of the way. We’ve also been watching the church Wendy Sisson attends. There hasn’t been much activity. Certainly no pot lucks or bible studies.”

  “You’re disappearing for the next few days. Even though this isn’t our lane—” Crew hikes a brow and glares at me, “—we’ll stay on top of it while you two are chasing Randolph. Our priority is Bella. The rest of what we’re doing for you is also for her. I am not excited about illegally tapping anyone from the CIA.”

  Crew Vega and I had a run in a few years ago. He worked his ass off to get out of the game and retire but wouldn’t do it until he could bring Grady with him. Grady wasn’t ready. I didn’t know Grady Cain coming back would be a bad thing and gave him a job.

  It didn’t go well.

  Vega has held it against me ever since.

  “I’m glad she’s your first priority because she’s mine too. She and Abbott. I appreciate you getting to her and Red tonight. I need to figure out what to do with them until I get home.”

  “They’re welcome to stay here. We’ve got the room and Vivi will like having someone around who does more than eat and sleep.”

  “We’ve got room too,” Grady adds. “But Asa has no room. We’ll do everything we can to wrangle your dad and make sure they’re safe.”

  “Put Red to work,” I say. “He doesn’t sit on his hands well.”

  “My wife owns a vineyard and a farmhouse old enough for George Washington to have stopped over for the night. I have plenty of shit that needs to get done,” Crew adds and this time it doesn’t look like he wants to smash my head into a vat of grapes. Progress.

  “I’m going to check on Abbott.”

  “Through the trees. Follow me.” Crew turns into the dark.

  I start to follow but pause next to Jarvis. We both stare at what was once an orgasmic automobile. I slap his shoulder. “I am sorry. It was a great car.”

  Jarvis’s eyes shoot to me. He frowns but doesn’t say a word.

  It’s too soon. He needs time.

  I leave him to mourn and walk off into the dark forest in my tux.

  At least everyone likes Bella. I plan to ride her coattails with this group as long as it takes. I have no other choice.

  Bella

  The bed dips as it always does when he comes to me. Except this time, it creaks too.

  He pulls a blanket over both of us that smells of fresh lavender and is as heavy as the silence that has settled over the room. In what has become a habit, he presses his front to my back. I don’t argue because I’m tired and settling my mind after tonight seems impossible.

  I waited for him to come to me. After receiving another lecture from Gracie about scar tissue and doing too much too soon after such major surgery, I choked down a couple pills and washed the makeup away.

  Cole pulls my weight into him and I hate that I like it. Hate that he’s wearing me down. He doesn’t say a word, which is oddly stirring the tension in my gut and my gut has been through quite enough.

  I feel every tense muscle in his body so I break the silence. “Is Abbott okay?”

  His fingers wrap around my hip. “Yeah. Woke her and explained I have to go out of town for a few days. But dealing with Red was another story. He didn’t believe the shit that happened tonight was on me and not you. I set him straight.”

  Red is an interesting gent, one like I’ve never dealt with before. That’s saying a great deal since I work in a world of penises. His attitude toward me, for the most part, has improved—enough that we’ve coexisted under the same roof while Cole is at work and I’m giving French lessons to his beloved granddaughter. He clearly puts up with me for the sake of his son.

  I sigh. “You should listen to your father, Cole.”

  He buries his face in my hair and inhales. “I plan on winning our bet. You belong right here next to me. We’ll find a way for you to do what you do best. You’re too good to give up your career—you proved it tonight. Not that I need you shooting up the streets of DC, but you can work in other ways. I promise.”

  I lean into him farther. “That’s a tall order, Officer Carson.”

  “I can make it happen.” His lips hit my ear. “Tonight gives me even more reason to fix everything. Abbott needs me and I need you. I’m done being shot at and that goes for you too. After the last few weeks, I don’t want you anywhere near a bullet for the rest of your life.”

  I close my eyes because this is not a conversation I’m anxious to have. “The alarm will ring early, Cole.”

  “You sure you’re feeling okay?”

  “I’ll be fine. I already took a tongue lashing from Gracie—I don’t need one from you, as well.”

  His voice changes, dripping like honey. “Then maybe we should talk about what happened in the coat closet.”

  I grab his hand that begins to creep up my side. Unlike earlier, I can’t allow him to put me in such a vulnerable spot if my plan is to keep him at bay. “I need sleep.”

  My hair flutters as he sighs. “Soon, baby.”

  It’s a promise. I hear it in his tone.

  One I wish he wouldn’t make.

  Chapter 18

  Money

  Cole

  We step off the ferry from St. Thomas. The smell of ocean water and revenge h
angs thick in the tropical climate of St. John. Thanks to Vega and his frequent-flier mileage with a private charter service, we made it here three hours before Charles Randolph. A first-class seat doesn’t make a commercial flight any faster.

  The senator seems to like the sand. In addition to his place on South Beach and Nassau, he also has a condo here. From the travel records Asa supplied, he’s here at least once a month, which seems like a lot for someone who should be busy working for his constituents since they’re the ones paying his salary with their tax dollars.

  But if the shade of his tan is any indicator, he’s got his ass in the sand more often than serving the good people of Florida.

  “It’s been a long time since I’ve been to the beach.”

  I turn and give Bella my hand as she follows me down the steps to the tarmac. Shrugging our bags over my shoulder, I lead her to the small office where keys to our car should be waiting. “That was an amazing weekend.”

  She doesn’t let go of my hand this time and I feel like Team Cole just won the pennant. Tipping her head back, I can’t see her bright blue eyes for the huge black shades she’s sporting, but her pink lips creep up on one side. She remembers what has been etched into my brain and what I’ve been hanging my hat on ever since.

  “It was,” she agrees. “It was also a time when things weren’t complicated.”

  I shake my head and let her hand go long enough to swing the door open. “It’s only as complicated as we make it, sweetness.”

  “Yes, you keep saying that. Yet after last night, I’m not sure how much more problematic life could be. Now we’re both on the run.”

  I try to bite back my smile. “Don’t give me any ideas. All I need is Abbott and I’d be happy living on the run with you.” The rusty bell sitting on the desk looks as pathetic as it sounds when I whack it. “Maybe we should take this opportunity to try our hand at island life. No bullets. No bosses. No informants. Sounds like a wet dream.”

  An old lady who can’t be taller than five-foot-nothing with more wrinkles than a pug, shuffles out of the back room. She greets us and I don’t even have to show her my fake ID to get her to hand over the keys. She disappears faster than she arrived and we’re left to guess which Toyota is ours for the time we’re here.

  An old Camry honks and lights up in the far corner of the lot. Before we climb in, we both go to the trunk to see what we’ve got to work with.

  “I hate not relying on my own resources,” Bella mutters and bends to dig through the bags Crew arranged for us. “You think this stuff washed up from the ocean?”

  “We didn’t give them much notice and this is an island. I doubt there’s a Home Depot on every corner. I should be able to make it work.” Tossing our duffels on top of the pile of tools that look like they might’ve been used to build planes in World War II, I slam the trunk and pop the locks. At least we brought our own surveillance equipment. We probably would’ve ended up with bugs used in Watergate.

  When I crank the engine and flip on the AC, I shift to Bella and am dead serious when I state, “Before we leave this island, you’re going to kiss me.”

  She pulls her hair up into a pile on top of her head. “Your optimism is both inspiring and sad, Cole. We’re not on vacation.”

  “Every day with you is a vacation.”

  Flipping off her shades, her eyes roll before landing on me and I’m positive she doesn’t appreciate my humor. “We have less than three hours, and that’s if no one is in the condo. There’s literally no time for this.”

  “Quit talking dirty to me. You know this shit turns me on. And we still haven’t talked about your orgasm in the coat room.”

  “Do I need to wrestle you out of that seat and drive myself?”

  “I’ll wrestle with you any day and you know it. Back to your orgasm—you liked it.” She opens her mouth to argue, but I don’t allow it. “No, you fucking loved it, especially when I had you half-undressed with my hands on you during an operation. I know it turned you on. I had to keep you from coming until Randolph and the reporter left.”

  “Cole—”

  “You’re wet right now thinking about it, aren’t you?”

  She says nothing, but her head falls back against the cracked pleather headrest.

  “I have a plan,” I state.

  Her head rolls toward me and exhaustion is etched into her frustration.

  “You’re going to kiss me before we leave this island,” I repeat because it’s true. I’m determined and pretty damn proud of what I’ve got up my sleeve.

  “Stop,” she whispers.

  I shake my head. “Never. You want to know why?”

  “I give up.” Her tone is as drained as her expression. “Why?”

  “Because I love you.”

  Her jaw goes slack and her piercing eyes widen.

  “You’re fucking frustrating as hell, but I love you. I think I have from the day you steeled your spine and stood up to me when you had no clue what you were doing. You’re who I want to teach Abbott to be a strong woman. I want more babies but I only want them with you. You might not be ready and that’s okay. I’m willing to wait. We’re going to clear your name, figure out why my boss is trying to kill me, and then we’ll find a way for you to do the job you love until you’re ready for me to knock you up—at least twice. I’m up for discussions if you want more.”

  I stop because this was actually not a part of my plan. That shit spilled from my mouth but I can’t say I regret it. Yet. It actually feels pretty damn good to get it off my chest.

  I’m not sure I’ve ever shocked her to silence and she still hasn’t moved.

  “Bella,” I demand. “Do you have anything to say?”

  “Bloody hell,” she murmurs.

  “Exactly my thoughts.” I throw the Camry into reverse and pull out of the parking lot. “But I do plan to practice knocking you up. And it’s going to happen right after you break down and kiss me.”

  Bella

  Crew Vega has contracted my services since my name was dragged through the sludge by my former employer. He worked with my father for only a year or two before Dad retired and I ran across him through my cases in the beginning of my career. When I was forced to leave behind my life or be burned at the stake for something I did not do, I was desperate and needed security. And we all know nothing provides security better than money.

  It was risky, but I reached out to him. He worked in the part of the world where I was hiding and I knew he could use my services. It took a couple encrypted phone calls and I was in. I’ve worked with Crew and a few others like him. He pays well, he shoots straight, and he believes in me. I provide him information and sometimes equipment, should his men need it locally. Until I met Jarvis, I’ve never worked directly with his people. I usually make the drop and they find it. It’s how I prefer to operate.

  So, until I arrived in Virginia and ended up with a point-blank gunshot wound, I had never met Asa or Grady in person. They’ve proven to be advantageous men to know. Asa somehow booked us in the condo next to Randolph’s through Airbnb, despite the fact it was already booked. I didn’t question this but I did thank my lucky stars he’s on my side.

  Grady shot me a sly smile on the way to the airport this morning, informing me they can make most things happen when they need to. If the old adage money talks is true, these gents seem to make it scream, even on the island of St. John. They’re now investigating the notorious reporter who seems to have all the goods to completely ruin Senator Randolph. I need to figure out his connection to my drama before she’s done with him. If he goes away too soon, I may not find the pot at the end of my gloomy rainbow.

  “Done,” Cole announces as he tosses the ancient electric drill that barely did the job onto the chair next to us. “With thirty minutes to spare.”

  It took him less than an hour to plant three listening devices—one behind the refrigerator in the wet bar, another above the baseboard in the bedroom, and the last in the main hall. They�
�re sensitive enough to cover the entire place. It’s huge compared to my living arrangements in Pakistan, yet modest for American standards.

  I turn to the wall of windows overlooking the deep balcony and, beyond that, to blues and turquoises dancing in the endless Caribbean. I need to focus on Randolph, not the fact that Cole loves me, wants me to be in Abbott’s life, or how he wants to knock me up multiple times. And that’s all after he plans to practice. Cole Carson doesn’t do anything halfass. By the time he perfects the act, I’m sure I’ll be eating for two.

  “You’ve been quiet.”

  I nod and continue my silence.

  “I’m running out of time, sweetness. I’m not scared of anything, but the deadline is making my skin crawl.”

  His heat hits my back, followed by his hands low on my hips, caging me in … and I don’t hate it. Cole was always the worst type of addiction. It took all I had to cut myself off from him. He has no business being tied down to the likes of me since I’m not in a position to live a real life.

  My hair moves away from my neck, pulling through the shadow of his whiskers since he didn’t take the time to shave this morning before our early flight. His lips hit the sensitive skin of my ear and I brace, worried what he’ll say next, but I’m saved by the literal bell. Or tone from the app on my phone, alerting us of activity in the next unit.

  I whip my head around to the cell sitting on the table and Cole is back to business. He stuffs a wireless earbud in his ear and tosses the other to me. I press record on the app and sit on the edge of the bed, praying we’ll learn something—anything. Even if it’s another crumb in the long trail where my freedom sits at the end.

  Minutes click by. Long ones. Ten turn into thirty, then forty into sixty.

  Cole and I are sprawled on the king-size bed and my eyes are closed. Patience is something I’ve always had in abundance until the day my freedom was ripped from its root. His fingers methodically drag across my scalp through to the ends of my hair as we listen to Randolph bang around his kitchen, the shower, and, to prove how good Crew’s equipment is, a lonesome ice cube rattling against glass.