by Dale Mayer
She stared in shock. Zack looked at her, smiled, and nodded.
The window opened silently. Her intruder grabbed hold of the window ledge and leaped inside, almost with the smooth grace of a panther. Just as he was about to straighten, Zack was on him. He knocked him to the ground, straddled his chest, and with several hard punches to the face, knocked him out.
She didn’t know if anybody else was coming up behind him. She peered out the window, but it was empty. “I don’t see anybody else coming up,” she said quietly as she shut the window again. “Go help Bonaparte.”
He shook his head. “I saw two guys. So where is the other one?” He grabbed the stockings she held out and tied up the intruder at the wrists and ankles before disappearing.
She used her phone flashlight to check his face, but she didn’t know who he was. She took a photo, then checked for IDs, but he had nothing on him.
She sat back and realized just how persistent Bonaparte and Zack had been about this and how right they were. Here she’d been thinking that she was safe because her parents were dead, but, until these guys—whom her father had implicated—were also picked up, she wasn’t safe. Maybe after this, maybe after tonight, she would be.
She waited for what seemed an interminable time, then crept to the landing.
When she heard another man’s voice from downstairs, her heart froze.
“Better you sit back down,” a man said, his voice hard. “Where is the bitch?”
She gasped and wondered what she could do at this point. If Zack and Bonaparte had been taken, what would she do now?
She heard footsteps coming up the stairs. She immediately bolted through her bedroom window, out on the latticework ladder. After years of experience, she slipped down to the garage and around the corner. She dashed onto the kitchen deck and slipped inside that way. At the corner of the kitchen, she stopped and froze, because two men held machine guns on Zack and Bonaparte.
One of the gunmen saw her and immediately raised his gun and said, “Come right now, otherwise I’ll shoot him.”
She immediately stepped forward. She caught Zack’s gaze and whispered, “I’m sorry.”
He shook his head.
The guy grabbed her and threw her to the floor between the two men. She called in out pain as her leg slammed against the hard floor. “Hey, that’s not necessary.”
“Shut the fuck up,” he snapped, as he was about to give her another hard shove.
While the gunmen were more focused on Zadie, Bonaparte grabbed his captor’s forearm and wrist and, in a move she’d never seen before, snapped it in half. The man screamed, the gun falling, but the gun was already in Bonaparte’s hand. He fired a single shot and took out the second gunman’s hand. Except Zack was already up and had him down on the floor. With these two gunmen down, and her sitting here shocked at the sudden turn of events, she looked at both men, but Bonaparte and Zack now held the machine guns. Bonaparte lifted the butt of his rifle and slammed it into both men’s heads, knocking them out.
Zack called out, “Stay here. There are more.” Bonaparte took off after Zack.
She froze. On a sudden insight, she grabbed Zap straps and tied up the gunmen. It wouldn’t hold them for long, but it was something. As she waited, wishing she had some kind of weapon, she grabbed the nearby kitchen knife and held it behind her back as she curled up on the floor, faking it for the other gunmen. Only as she sank back down again, she felt something press against the side of her head. She turned to see a gunman had sprung from the hallway. She hadn’t even known he was watching her.
He laughed at her. “A knife. Really? Don’t bring a knife to a gunfight.”
“I wasn’t planning on it,” she whispered. “I didn’t want to get involved in any fight.”
“Too bad. Your dad brought the fight to you,” he said. “I want the material he had.”
“It doesn’t matter if I give it to you or not,” she said. “Governments on both sides of the ocean have it already.”
He stared at her in shock.
She nodded. “It’s all been turned over.”
“You fucking bitch,” he snapped. “Get up. Get up!”
She managed to stand but kept the knife with her. The gunman was pissed off. He motioned at her to sit in a chair. She stumbled trying to walkby the two other gunmen, who were still on the ground. As he reached for her, she spun and stabbed him.
He stared at her in shock, but she shoved the knife to the hilt. He sank to his knees, and she whipped the gun from his hand and pointed it at him. She didn’t have a clue whether it would fire if she pulled the trigger, but she wouldn’t take a chance. She’d already done more than she thought she was capable of.
He stared at her and whispered, “You are just like your fucking father.”
“No,” she said, “I’m nothing like my father. I am, however, like my mother.”
And he fell down, unconscious.
She heard running footsteps. She turned the gun as she watched, but Bonaparte came around the corner. He stopped with his hands up, and she realized how it looked. She immediately lowered the gun and said, “This guy caught me. I don’t even know where he came from.”
He looked at the third man and said, “And you stabbed him?”
“What else could I do?” she said crossly. “Have we got the last of them?”
He grinned and said, “Absolutely.”
Zack came around the corner on the other side, carrying a fourth man. He took one look, smiled, and said, “Bonaparte, you want to go grab the one upstairs?”
He nodded and raced upstairs.
With Zack dumping the fourth gunman on the ground in the kitchen, he walked over, took the gun away from her, and asked, “Did you use a good kitchen knife?”
“Probably. It went right through him,” she said in horror, not wanting to see the damage she’d done.
“If you just hit soft tissue, it goes right through,” he said. “It’s very effective as a weapon. He’s probably not dead yet.” He went over and checked him, nodded, and said, “He is still breathing. I’m calling for an ambulance and the police,” he said, “and I’m contacting Levi, so we can get the right government people in on this one.”
By the time Bonaparte came back down with the fifth gunman still unconscious, an ambulance was on its way. And so were the cops. Levi had phoned his local contacts, and more people would be coming too. Zack looked over at Bonaparte and said, “Well, it’s not exactly morning,” he said, “but I’d say the day got started.”
Bonaparte walked to the coffeemaker and quickly put on a pot. Before it even finished dripping, they heard sirens and ambulances. And chaos reigned.
*
Zack held Zadie close, noting the pallor and the shakes running up and down her body. Probably from shock. They were sitting together on the kitchen bench, with her sitting between his legs, held between his arms. She leaned back against him and whispered, “Is this almost done?”
“I hope so,” he said. “I don’t know about you, but it’s getting pretty old.”
She snorted. “You think?” She picked up her phone and sent him yet another real estate listing.
“This one is in New Mexico. And I sent you one from Texas.”
“I guess I have to find a location, don’t I?”
“Not today, you don’t,” he said easily. “Right now, we will deal with the mess we’ve got here.”
All the gunmen had been picked up and removed, nobody dead, which was something that she was grateful for.
Zack, on the other hand, didn’t give a shit. These five were hired dogs. So, as far as he was concerned, whatever happened, happened. Besides, they likely had a hand in killing the old couple, not to mention Zadie’s parents. “Did we find out if the Mikao guy was picked up?”
“Apparently, yes,” Bonaparte said as his phone rang. And he checked the message. He held it out. It was from Levi, saying, “Four for four.”
“Perfect,” she said. “So, once the cop
s leave, I can go back to bed?”
“Yeah,” Zack said. “Me too.”
She twisted, kissed him on the cheek, and said, “Let me rephrase that. Can we go back to bed?”
He chuckled and tucked her up close. “Yes.”
It took another hour, and finally it was done. With everyone gone, the house locked up, Bonaparte shook his head and said, “I’m going back to bed. I, at least, will sleep.”
“So are we,” she said.
Under his breath, Zack whispered, “Eventually.”
She chuckled and said, “You have to be nice to my leg.”
“No, I have to be careful with your leg,” he said, “but other than that …”
Once in her bedroom, she stopped and yawned. “God,” she said, “I’m exhausted.”
Immediately he froze, looked at her, and stripped down. “Get into bed,” he said. “We have lots of time ahead of us. There is no rush right now.”
“No,” she said, slowly undressing, “there isn’t. There is a sense of keyed-up worry, like just a pit in my stomach that says it isn’t over.”
“Let’s just say, it’s aftershock and worry,” he said. “It’s over. We’ve got them all.”
“Are you sure?” she asked. She stood nude in front of him, except for the gauze bandage on her injured leg.
He smiled and said, “You’re absolutely gorgeous dressed like that. Did you know that?”
“Wearing only this?” She looked down, gave her leg a gentle shimmy, and said, “You like that, huh?” She walked over, looped her hands around his neck, pressing her body against him tightly, from their chests to their hips, heated skin to heated skin. “I think you are perfectly dressed.”
“Our birthday suits are all we need.” He nodded in agreement and picked her up gently, laid her down on the bed, and said, “Sleep?”
“Later,” she whispered, “definitely later. One of the lessons this whole mess taught me is that life happens when you were doing something else, and it’s important to stop, relax, and enjoy what counts because sometimes tomorrow just doesn’t happen.”
He reached down, kissed her gently, and said, “As long as you’re sure.”
“I’m sure,” she whispered, pulling him down on top of her.
Skin to skin, heart to heart, mind to mind, the two of them kissed with a passion that he hadn’t expected, hadn’t been looking for, and even now was stunned at the sense of homecoming he felt inside. He kissed her hard, feeling his own response rising up with a need he hadn’t expected. It was more than sex, more than a coming together after a horrible event. It was so … very much more.
She moaned underneath him.
“I don’t want to hurt your leg.”
He held her beside him and then tightened in closer until they lay on their sides. Each of them gently exploring, both too tired, both too stressed, both too wound up for too much activity, and yet needing to take this step. Needing to have this commitment, needing to cross this bridge, and wanting, desperately wanting, the fulfillment that came with the release of knowing both of them were in it together.
It didn’t take much before he was groaning and pushing her gently onto her back, her bad leg hanging off the side of the bed as he whispered, “How about this?”
“That would work too,” she said, “but you’re worrying too much.”
“No,” he said, “I’ll never forgive myself if I hurt you.” But when he finally slipped deep inside her, it was all he could do to retain any sense of control. This woman twisting beneath him was just so damn sexy and wanton in her own needs that all he wanted to do was pleasure her over and over again.
When she finally lurched up against him and pulled him down hard and whispered, “Move, damn it, or I’ll make you move.”
He drove deep and let his own passion take over. He drove deeper, harder, and faster. When he’d finally burst, his own pleasure whipping through him, he slid a finger down between them, gently caressing her until she cried out beneath him. He collapsed to her side, pulled her deep into his arms, and whispered, “Now sleep. We have time for more tomorrow.”
“You mean in a little while,” she whispered. “Because today is not even over yet. And I intend to revisit this again and again.”
“When we are rested,” he promised.
“As long as you don’t use my leg for an excuse.”
“That’s not happening,” he said. “But rest now.”
She looped her arms around his neck, snuggled in close, and whispered, “Yes, boss.”
He chuckled. “That’ll be the only time you follow orders, isn’t it?”
“Absolutely,” she said with a chuckle, and she closed her eyes and slept.
He tucked her up close, and his phone buzzed at that. He reached across to the night table, lifted his phone to see Levi’s text.
Spend a few days and enjoy life. It’s too short, so take the time when you have it.
Zack texted with one finger a simple message back, typing, I am.
He sent off the message, crawled beside Zadie, and slept.
His last thought was that Levi’s matchmaking magic had worked again.
Epilogue
Bonaparte Gasparde was happy for Zack and Zadie. It’s not what Bonaparte had expected when they’d started this mission, but, once he’d seen the sparks flying between the two of them, Bonaparte knew that there would be no other way that this ended. Zack looked like he had a whole new lease on life. Bonaparte was happy for his friend.
Bonaparte had returned to the States with them and had spent a few weeks lost until Levi suggested Bonaparte stay and do a couple jobs, ’til he figured out what he wanted to do.
Being here was hard in a way. His self-introspection into his prior relationship was brutal. Yet he’d seen so many beautiful couples at Levi’s place that Bonaparte wondered if he was half inclined to be here, just so some of that pixie dust might fall his way.
Just then Levi walked into the kitchen. “Is everything well with you?”
“I’m good,” Bonaparte said.
“Well, how do you feel about heading outside of Denver to help out a friend?”
“What’s there?”
“Another case gone wrong.” Levi sighed. “This is actually a favor for the new sheriff of a small town.”
“What kind of a problem? Need a bodyguard or what?”
“No, nothing like that,” he said. “The sheriff needs someone to deputize for the short-term, having told a bunch of guys that new staff members were coming in, so they’re expecting somebody, yet nobody is on the way.”
“So, I’m just like a relief deputy for what? A week or two?” He shrugged. “Whatever. I’ve never been in that role before. How hard can it be?”
“Yeah, but you’re walking into a trap,” he said. “It’s one of the reasons for saying backup was coming, but it’s also one of the reasons not to actually get backup. It’s a dangerous situation, and anybody the sheriff brings in could get their head chopped off.”
“Great,” Bonaparte said, straightening up with a big grin. “Sounds like my kind of job. Who’s the sheriff?”
“Her name is Angela Zimmerman,” Levi said. “She’s hell on wheels, and she’s an old friend. Do what you can to keep her alive.”
“A female sheriff, sounds like fun.”
“Angela is good people. She comes down on the side of right every time. And she’s in trouble.”
Bonaparte pursed his lips. He had no reason not to go. In fact, it would be better than sitting here and reviewing his failed past relationships.
“Don’t let one poisonous nutcase spoil you for all the beautiful flowers out there.”
Bonaparte laughed at that. “I doubt Ice would appreciate being called a flower. And I don’t view my ex like that.”
“So true,” Levi said with a grin. “And good on the ex. Now go give Angela a hand.” He stood. “At the bare minimum, this job should keep you busy, and you love helping the underdog. I can guarantee you that A
ngela needs you.”
“Well, when you put it that way, how can I refuse?”
This concludes Book 23 of Heroes for Hire: Zack’s Zest.
Read about Bonaparte’s Belle: Heroes for Hire, Book 24
Heroes for Hire: Bonaparte’s Belle (Book #24)
Sheriff Angela Zimmerman is not what Bonaparte expects when he arrives in her district. But he was here to help her out at Levi’s request. A little matchmaking by Levi was going on too but didn’t change the fact that she was in trouble.
When Levi said he was sending a man over, she didn’t realize he meant this gentle mountain of a man. Still Bonaparte was confident and capable, and that’s what mattered. Something rotten was happening in her town, and getting to the bottom of it alone was nearly impossible. Especially when all her deputies had been coerced to quit.
Sensing something much bigger was going on is one thing, but proving it is another. So the two set out to get the proof they need—no matter the danger. No one expected what they found …
Find Book 24 here!
To find out more visit Dale Mayer’s website.
Author’s Note
Thank you for reading Zack’s Zest: Heroes for Hire, Book 23! If you enjoyed the book, please take a moment and leave a short review here.
Dear reader,
I love to hear from readers, and you can contact me at my website: www.dalemayer.com or at my Facebook author page. To be informed of new releases and special offers, sign up for my newsletter or follow me on BookBub. And if you are interested in joining Dale Mayer’s Reader Group, here is the Facebook sign up page.
Cheers,
Dale Mayer
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