Blaine, Destiny - Breakfast by the Sea (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)

by Destiny Blaine

  “Tiny Stadleman. Goes by Tiny, Small, Baby, and Tin Man. Jack of Clubs.”

  “Go on.”

  “Ramone Carpasia. Friends call him Ray or Raymond. King of—” Adam heard a faint gasp and looked up. “He’s on the King of Hearts card. How do you know him?”

  “Continue!” Her eyes hazed over. Her hand trembled, and instincts told him to make a leap for the gun, but when he saw how violently her left arm shook, he waited. No need in dodging bullets yet.

  She dropped the weapon, but he didn’t lunge for her right away. Instead, he quietly studied her. She took the card from his hands. Her eyes looked like they led to a dark pit of anger. “Ramone Carpasia. Is that why you’re here?”

  Adam’s right cheek twitched. He’d always had that problem with Darla. He had to tell the truth. If he didn’t, his face gave everything away. He couldn’t maintain eye contact, so when he lied, he was caught. “How did you know about the deck of cards?”

  “Everyone knows about those cards,” she said flippantly.

  “The hell they do. Answer the question. How come you’re interested in the deck of most wanted criminals? What do you know?”

  “Enough. Those who make that deck are marked for dead!” she spat, furious.

  “Not necessarily.”

  “The hell you say! You think you’re very smart. You know nothing. Every person in that deck…they know when they make the list of most wanted. They understand. They comprehend and anticipate the end. When someone’s face is imprinted on one of your flimsy posters, the best and the brightest assassins are sent to find them.”

  “I’m not an assassin.”

  “Then what are you?” she demanded.

  Adam swallowed hard. “I’m a man who once loved a woman who broke his heart. I’m a cowboy who’d rather ride a bull than a horse. And I’m an independent mercenary who will stop at nothing to protect my country and those who have long since earned the right to live here. That’s who I am. Who the hell are you? Who pays your bills? Who do you work for?”

  She released a husky chuckle. “Is that what you think? You think I kill for money? Do you?” She shook her head briskly. “No, I don’t kill for money. I do my best to run away from those who do. I pay my own way, and I don’t rely on anyone.”

  “Do I detect a Czech accent?”

  She took a deep breath. Was that a sign she’d decided to calm down?

  “I spent a lot of time in Prague before moving between various European countries. That veree long ago,” she taunted. Her thick accent came back like a Phoenix sunset guaranteed to color the sky orange. “I spent a great deal of time in Egypt, too, but I was born here.” And the dialect was gone just as fast.

  If she were an American, would she know so much about the deck of cards? American women catering to tourists didn’t have significant knowledge about things in his world, or, at least, they shouldn’t.

  Oh, God, he thought. Prague? Egypt? Oh, no, oh, please God, no! Ramone Carpasia spent half his life in Prague. He also owned a palatial home in Cairo. He reluctantly asked, “What is Ramone Carpasia to you?”

  Without missing a beat, she said, “Most believe he’s my husband.”

  Adam’s heart raced. If Ramone Carpasia was Paige’s husband, then that could only mean one thing. “Fuck!” he exclaimed, going for her weapon.

  Everything unraveled at once. His team rushed inside. Where the hell did they come from? They couldn’t have returned at a better time.

  Jeff leapt over the bed and grabbed Paige. Miles and Callan drew their weapons. Connor clenched his fist, and for a split second, Adam wasn’t sure if Connor was going to knock the hell out of Jeff or throw a left hook in his direction. Instead, Connor went for Paige, relaxing his hands by the time he connected with her.

  “Get down!” Jeff screamed. “Back away from the target, Connor!”

  “I can’t do it,” Connor said calmly.

  “Stand down, Connor!” Adam ordered.

  “No way,” he said, protecting her.

  “You just met her today, damn it. Connor, man, let her go!” Jeff persisted, pointing his gun at her head. Adam made a sudden move. “Stay down, Adam! Do you know who she is? What the fuck are you doing with these cards?”

  Questions. Too many questions. Too much commotion. Too much revealed, and yet no one had any answers.

  “See! This…why people… not help you! They cannot trust Americans!”

  “What is up with her accent?” Connor asked, turning to glare at her. “Who the hell are you?”

  “Tell him!” Adam ordered. “You seem so proud of where you came from. Tell them all. Tell them whose face is on the Queen of Hearts card!”

  “Let her go,” Callan demanded, staring at Jeff, who secured her arms behind her back.

  “Not a chance, Callan. Sorry, buddy. Boobs or no boobs, this little baby is going to cry until she gives us some answers.” Jeff’s lips moved to her ear. “You’ve had my friends here all tore up. They think you’re beautiful, sexy, and damn almighty, they say you’re so fucking hot without your top.”

  Jeff eyed Callan and then Adam. “Tell me something, Paige, or should I say Mrs. Carpasia, did any of these good fellows give you a full body search?” He slammed his body against hers, holding her against him with one arm. “Did they?”

  “Stop, Jeff,” Callan warned.

  Adam cleared his throat, watching but still gauging how he wanted the team to proceed. Women were Jeff’s area of expertise. He could rough up a woman and still make her ache for his touch. Then, he could fuck her for information, listen to her scream his name, carry the scratch marks down his back, knowing all along that after he received them, he’d be the last one to hear sentiments of pleasure fall from her sensual and dangerous lips.

  Jeff was the killer among them. If Paige Lambert belonged to Ramone Carpasia, then she was schooled in men like Jeff. She probably pegged him for what he was, and if that didn’t terrify her, then she’d seen worse men than Jeff. And Adam would love to know who.

  Jeff glared at her. He had killer eyes, and anyone who’d been around someone like him understood death moved closer when he made an appearance.

  Yanking her by the hair, Jeff screamed, “I want some information!”

  “You won’t get it this way!” Connor yelled, realizing about the same time as Adam, perhaps, that one wrong move could potentially seal Paige’s fate.

  With Connor standing down and Callan siding with Connor, they didn’t stand a chance with Paige telling them what they needed to know. For the first time in a long time, Connor looked downright mean. Callan swiped the blood from Paige’s lip, and at any moment, he’d probably apologize for their actions.

  Adam itched to hold her, too, even though he understood what Paige had been hiding and how her secrets could’ve gotten them killed. What the hell was going on here? How much mercy were they willing to give a woman who’d made their Most Wanted list? Since when had they become protectors more than fighters? And what had Paige done to them? Why were they willing to save her in the first place?

  “Back away from the target,” Jeff ordered.

  Adam finally made a decision, though he wasn’t sure how he’d come to reach it. “She’s not our mark, Jeff.”

  “The hell she isn’t! If she’s with Carpasia, she’s responsible for the deaths of hundreds, if not thousands of innocent people!”

  “No! Ramone Carpasia may have orchestrated all those hits, but look at her, does she look like she stood by and watched him murder all those people? Read the fucking intel. He had two wives, one who supported everything he did, even negotiated the price of whores she wanted destroyed. This wife—the one with parents living in the U.S.—was not responsible. She left him!” Connor reached for her, but she rose to her knees, which placed Jeff’s gun at the back of her head.

  Adam arched a brow. “Did the new data cover all of that?”

  “Why don’t you try reading the damn paperwork you force on us,” Connor suggested. “There�
�s a detain alert on the Queen of Hearts. She was the only one in the deck we were ordered to bring in alive for questioning. Whoever put together the Most Wanted list didn’t do the appropriate preliminary research.”

  Paige remained on her knees. “It does not matter. The truth never sets you free. All the truth ever does is enable those around you. Honesty empowers the very people who want to destroy you. I’m willing to die for a cause I believe in—the right to live my life the way I choose. Besides, if you don’t kill me, Ramone will. The death he brings is always brutal. I would rather die with honor. Die for a reason.”

  “And what reason is that?” Jeff grated out.

  “I’ve already told you,” she said, squaring her shoulders. “The privilege to live my life on my own terms, and I have that right as an American citizen.”

  “The hell you do!” Jeff screamed. “Since I came in this room, you’ve used half a dozen dialects. I bet you’re no more an American citizen than Ramone himself!”

  “Where I’ve lived doesn’t matter. Who I was in my past is of no concern to you.”

  “The devil you say!” Jeff’s rebuttal came across like venom scaling a snake. His voice broke and his neck bulged with tight, thick cords, making him look more like a beast than a man.

  Adam agreed with Jeff on one matter. Paige’s past presented an obstacle, one he viewed as a viable concern. Paige’s face was on a card. They had been hired to bring down the house of corruption, leaders in the underworld now considered criminals on the run.

  Could Paige be as dangerous as the men in that deck? Had she committed heinous offenses against innocent people? Was she as immoral as the King of Hearts? She’d shared his bed. What kind of woman allowed such a monster to sleep next to her?

  Bile formed in the back of his throat. The last order he wanted to receive was the one he now faced. He had been hired to stop those individuals identified by a physical symbol of recognition. Paige’s face occupied the Queen of Hearts card. He couldn’t deny facts when he picked up the crumbled picture from the floor.

  There had to be inaccuracies somewhere. Even his handler made the occasional mistake, didn’t he? If this was a simple misunderstanding, could the problem lie as an error in advisement? And if so, was his judgment the one in question?

  Adam glanced around the room. The entire team had taken crucial missteps—they’d fallen hard and fast for a woman who could be one of the deadliest targets they’d ever pursued.

  None of that mattered when Adam looked at Paige. He wanted to save her. If she needed reform, rehabilitation, perhaps, he was the man for the job and to hell with what any of them thought.

  There was something about her. Or maybe it wasn’t Paige. There was something about him when he had the pleasure of being around her. By the looks of things, he wasn’t the only one experiencing a Paige problem.

  Miles and Callan stood with arched brows, firm jaws, and clenched fists. They wanted him to stop this, but to hell with what they wanted. He had to end it.

  Adam pushed the gun away from Paige’s head. “Stand down,” he ordered Jeff. “Now, Jeff. No one is going to die here. Not by one of our guns.”

  Jeff changed his stance and stormed out of the room, and Connor tugged her into his arms. Once there, she wailed like a baby, or perhaps like a woman who had finally earned what she’d always needed—compassionate men with able arms surrounding her.

  Things were certainly complicated. Adam had a feeling they were about to get much worse.

  * * * *

  “She’ll be the death of you,” Jeff warned Adam as soon as he sat next to him.

  God, he was mad. He couldn’t believe they were protecting a target. He was good and damn furious. What was Adam thinking?

  Jeff was fucking pissed off. He wanted an explanation. He deserved one. “Wasn’t it bad enough that you spent the last five years with a woman who seemed bound and determined to make you look like a fool?”

  Adam flinched. “I deserved that. Everyone tried to tell me. I wouldn’t listen. When I took my vows, I took them to mean I’d be with the same woman until death do us part, like the minister marrying us suggested.”

  “Yeah, well, congratulations. You stuck by those vows, and look where commitment and loyalty got you.”

  “This isn’t about me.”

  The tide rolled in and out, in and out. Jeff had been sitting there for a long time, listening to the waves break around him, staring up at the black sky, and wondering what kind of woman grabbed a man at first sight. He’d gasped for air when he’d first met her, meeting as it was, and yet he could’ve killed her in the same breath, angry when he realized her face existed in their fucking deck.

  “What has gotten into you?” Adam asked, concern in his voice.

  “I thought about asking you the very same thing.”

  Silence. Adam mastered the gift of negotiation. He used every tactic he could to make his marks talk without giving into the need for violence.

  Jeff, on the other hand, didn’t have the patience. He liked to beat the truth out of his targets, find out what they knew, and then laugh when he destroyed the kind of monster most deserving of the fate he was hired to deliver.

  An eye for an eye, and based on his history, it would eventually be how he died. Men like him didn’t die old or retire to a porch swing.

  Jeff knew the score. He kept a tally. The time would come when he paid the ultimate price. It was the way the universe kept a balance. The eye for an eye thing eventually got them all—good guys, bad guys, men with badges, thugs dealing drugs—every last one of them. In the end, they all met the same challenging fate.

  “Do you think we’re held accountable for the things we do?”

  Adam cleared his throat. “You mean for the hits?”

  “Yeah,” Jeff replied thoughtfully. “Do we face the same outcome? Are we any better than those killing innocent people?”

  “I think so. We put a stop to illegal activity. We hunt animals, not decent men and women.”

  “Is that what you tell yourself when you drag a man away from his dinner table while he’s sitting across from his wife and small children?”

  “I do,” Adam said. “If I take out one of these guys on their front lawn, I don’t think about who’s watching from inside, but that’s me.

  “I think about the guys and gals who didn’t go home from work because of one of these creeps. I wonder what their victims miss in life, the Christmas holidays, the summer vacations, who they’ll never see grow up or graduate from college. That’s what I think about.

  “To hell with what the thugs leave behind. I consider the blameless. I ponder what these criminals took away from those who didn’t deserve a life cut short. Then, I think of the lives I saved because I did my job and stopped a man or woman with criminal intent.”

  “Do you have any idea how many shots I’ve been required to fire while the target sat with his or her family?”

  “I’m sure a lot. We all have.”

  “Twenty-seven,” Jeff informed him.

  “And out of that many, how many do you regret?”

  “Not a damn one,” Jeff admitted. “The targets all had numerous kills, and the women? Oh, God, they were the worst. Still, the older I get, I wonder if there’s a better way.”

  “You’re questioning yourself?”

  “Not exactly, but sometimes I ask why me? Why did I pull the trigger?”

  “You chose this line of work. This isn’t the kind of job that reaches out and grabs you. Our operatives understand what they’re getting themselves into, and they realize when they enter our training program that if they ever leave, we’re unable to protect them.”

  “I ain’t leavin’, so don’t worry about me,” Jeff drawled.

  “Sounds like you’ve considered going somewhere.”

  “No, but lately I’ve spent a lot of hours thinking about life and death. You know, about my time, and how much I have left.”

  “Your time will come, whether you’re
with our team or not.”

  “Don’t you worry that if you live by the gun, you’ll die by its bullet?”

  “If you’re behind a misguided missile fighting for the wrong cause, then yes, I believe you’ll die as you’ve lived. But we’re the good guys. We stand for what’s right, what’s worth defending. We save others by destroying evil, savage individuals who take the lives of those who had a life worth living. If you don’t find peace in anything else, hold fast to that, Jeff.”

  “I still say that woman may ruin you,” Jeff changed the subject.

  “Maybe, but probably not.” Adam chuckled. “I’m the rock, remember?”

  “You’re the backbone of this operation, that’s for sure.”

  “Rocks don’t roll uphill.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Jeff asked.

  “Don’t worry about Paige. She’s out of my league.” Adam slapped Jeff on the back and walked away.

  Maybe Adam thought Paige Lambert—Carpasia—was out of his league, but as far as Jeff was concerned, they were in the same class.

  They were all killers. She’d killed before. He’d bet on that any day of the week and twice on Sunday. The lady wasn’t clean-handed.

  Females rarely purchased guns for show. Since his fellow operatives had fallen victim to Paige’s womanly ways, Jeff would do his homework. He would find out Paige Lambert Carpasia’s secrets. Then, he’d expose her. His team had a right to know with whom they were dealing.

  In the meantime, he’d stay away from her, keep as much space between them as possible. Otherwise, he couldn’t be responsible for his actions.

  When Jeff first rushed the upstairs bedroom, he’d been taken aback, something inside him snapped when he first saw her. Paige was gorgeous to a fault, and those legs! God help him, he’d like to see those long legs spread. He’d always had a thing for tall, slender women with curves in the right places.

  After a silent fantasy came and went, he considered the woman without the damning connection to Ramone Carpasia. There was something about her, something haunted and dark, intriguing, actually.