HUNTED
Books 1-5
Kira Matthison
Contents
Book 1: Hit Man
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Book 2: Betrayed
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Book 3: Deceit
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Book 4: Captured
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Book 5: Destroyed
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Book 1: Hit Man
Chapter 1
Jack
“You’ll get the second half on completion.” The man standing in front of me held out an envelope. His eyes tracked it as I slipped it into the inner pocket of my suit jacket. They were pale eyes, giving nothing away, set in a face as still as death. He was the sort of man most people would fear.
Most people knew nothing about the world. This man wanted a job done, and would play straight with anyone who did it. It was the man behind him who worried me, the one skulking in the shadows in the expensive suit. Adrian Witte. He thought he was anonymous, his clean features shrouded in darkness, but after the first of these meetings, it hadn’t taken much for me to figure out who he was. From the fact that he wanted to hide, from the fact that he was pushing the details of the hit off on someone else, I knew he was one of the worst kinds—the kind that can’t stand violence, but want to be known for it. They might start weak, but they all end up cruel, and more often than not, they end up powerful with it.
The world isn’t fair.
I told myself not to care. I had a reputation: I was the man who took down the worst of the worst. Trained by the SEALs. Forged on battlefields most people had never heard about. A living weapon, my crew fallen one by one. All I had left was to carry on their legacy here, on home soil. Wherever the worst of humanity hid, I could find them. I could take them out. Even if I was usually hired by people just as bad, it didn’t matter to me. Chances were, someone would hire me to off them sooner or later. I said the world isn’t fair, and it isn’t, but what goes around, comes around—and I help it come around.
“Details.” The man arranging the deal held out a folder and waited for me to open it. “Go out only after the man in the picture comes out. The rest is the blueprints you requested.”
“No after-construction changes?” I gave a cursory glance at the photo and began to flip through the blueprints. In buildings this large, someone invariably made changes.
“A few panic rooms.”
I nodded, continuing my scan. That should hardly impede my plans. The apartment was on the eighteenth floor, and registered only to Adrian Witte’s company, Witte International.
“We’ll make sure she’s alone.” The intermediary’s tone was almost bored, and he was already turning away as my head snapped up.
“She?” They’d been unusually close-mouthed about who they wanted me to kill, and this was the first, intriguing detail.
He paused, and I saw Witte freeze as well.
“Is that a problem?” The intermediary spoke delicately.
“Not…precisely.” I felt a stab of interest. Very few of humanity’s worst were women—or, at least, very few of those were the sort I was hired to take out. To have a woman rise so far in the underworld was rare, and it meant she was likely more dangerous than either of the men here realized. “You can ensure she’ll be alone?” If not, I was going to have to rethink my entire strategy.
“We can.”
“You’re sure? You’re absolutely sure she won’t have her own guards?” Men like this were used to the world bending over backward to accommodate them. They didn’t understand those who’d had to fight for everything they got—as women in crime syndicates invariably did.
But the man’s lips quirked, as if at some private joke. “She’s not going to have any guards.”
Behind him, in the shadows, Witte was laughing as well. It was not a pleasant laugh, and I felt unease flicker through me. If they were so sure she wasn’t that sort of threat, why was I here?
My clients had their reasons. I shoved away the thought and looked at the name typed in block letters at the top of the file: L. THOMAS.
“Fine.”
“You’re sure it won’t be a problem?” The intermediary echoed the tone of my question, almost mockingly, but I knew that tone: the sharp, biting questions meant to cloak someone’s own uncertainty. I’d seen it in the top brass who sent the SEALs out, in the infantry and Marines who’d only heard stories. They knew how brutal we could be, and it made them uncomfortable. Right now, the man in front of me wondered how I could bring myself to kill a woman.
“Very, very sure.” I felt my lips curve, though the smile was entirely without humor. Male or female, crime bosses were bad, and I never felt guilt over taking them down. This man didn’t understand, but he didn’t have to. I was the hit man, not him.
“Okay.” He swallowed, and for a second, I could see how young he really was. Then he cleared his throat, and the mask slid back into place. “We’ll send men up after your signal to come out to take the body.”
I only nodded. I was already walking away, folder tucked under my arm. L. Thomas. Older, most likely; all the women I was hired for were. Somehow stupid enough to let herself be set up in one of Witte’s own apartments, and about to pay for that stupidity with her life.
I heard their car pull away and paused to watch it zoom through the abandoned structure. My eyes narrowed. I found myself hoping, more than I usually did, that someone would hire me to take Witte out someday.
He wasn’t any worse than the rest of them, I told myself. But even as I turned back and headed for the stairs, I had my doubts.
Chapter 2
Lara
“You should make sure you get to bed early tonight.” Adrian’s voice was warm.
“Oh?” I adjusted my features into a smile before I looked over from the couch, finger going out to mark the place in my book. I always smiled at Adrian, and I always gave him my full attention when he spoke.
“We have the gala tomorrow night.” Adrian adjusted his cuffs. “You looked tired last time. I can’t be embarrassed by you again.”
I tried to keep the smile fixed on my face, but I knew he saw the flare of hurt in my eyes. Worse, I had seen the amusement in his. Defensive words rushed to my lips, and I swallowed him down. Adrian got like this, I’d always known that. It was happening more often now, but it was just words, usually. And only a child couldn’t deal with words. I nodded and forced myself to bring the light back into my smile.
“Of course,” I said meekly. Best to let him say such things to me, rather than take this out on his business partners, where it could do real damage to him.
Disappointment passed over his face, and I bit back the urge to snap at him, asking what he wanted from me. Fighting never made his anger better—he never wanted me to talk back—and accepting the harsh words didn’t make him happy, either. What did he want me to do?
I knew there was no use asking, and I told myself not to get stupid. One ca
reless word said in anger could ruin everything.
“Damien will be by soon.” His voice was curt as he turned away. “The folder is on the table. Remind him to take the stairs—because of the elevator.”
“I know.” Even after my reminders to myself to be careful, the words were automatic, tumbling out before I could stop myself. He’d been over this with me at least fifteen times. What was so complicated about handing over a folder and telling someone to take the stairs? When Adrian’s head snapped back my way, though, I flinched.
He was across the room in three long steps, fingers clenching around my arm like a vise. His handsome features twisted as his hand squeezed, and I saw the flare of pleasure in his eyes when I whimpered in pain.
“I’m sorry!” I knew it wasn’t my fault, knew I hadn’t done anything wrong, but the words burst out of me anyway. “I’m sorry, Adrian.”
He let the moment hang, fingers squeezing so hard I worried my arm would actually break. I bit my lip, trying to keep the sound in, but I was on the verge of crying out again when he released me abruptly.
“Watch your tone,” was all he said. He straightened his tie, and was gone a moment later with the door slamming behind him.
I forced myself to sit as still as a statue, eyes fixed on the far wall as the fear burned hot in my chest. The book had slipped out of my fingers in the struggle, but if I let myself move to pick it up, there was no saying what else I might do. When the panic rose up like this, choking me, showing her visions of a future that wouldn’t—wouldn’t, wouldn’t—happen, images of Adrian choking me, punching me, I felt herself ready to scream and scream. I knew that if I let myself start, I would never stop.
He had limits, I told myself carefully, as I always did. He had limits. I knew that. He was having a difficult time at work. He’d been drinking more, but it would all get better soon. He’d always been harsh, unforgiving of anything other than absolute perfection, but he’d never been like this at the start. That meant it would end. As soon as his work troubles were cleared up…
I forced myself to take a deep breath, and pulled my fingers back from where they were creeping toward my arm. I’d have to go get a new dress tomorrow for the gala, that was all. One with sleeves. He would never have done something like that if he’d known it would bruise, and showing up with a bruise would make it seem like he couldn’t control himself. When he made mistakes, it was my responsibility not to let him be shamed by them.
It was going to get better again. I was going to get better at keeping my tone even, at being happy and gracious. A man like Adrian needed that in his fiancée. In his wife.
I felt a low twist of fear and shoved it away. It was odd, the way my salvation seemed so much like a cage.
I didn’t let myself think about it.
The knock on the door startled me, and a moment later I shook my head impatiently at my own foolishness. That would be Damien. I pushed myself up and readied my smile as I went to the door.
“Lara.” He smiled broadly, as he always did when he saw me.
“Damien.” I saw him opening his arms for a hug and stepped out of the way, gesturing for him to come in. “Let me go get the folder.”
“Of course.”
I turned away from his strained expression and kept my head up as I went to the dining room table for the folder Adrian had told me about. I never acknowledged Damien’s feelings for me. What lay between us had been over and done with for almost ten years now, and nothing more than a flirtation to start with, a few kisses between teenagers. He had to understand that I was engaged now—engaged to the man who was both his friend and his boss. I had to avoid even the slightest hint of impropriety; Adrian had explained how rumors could embarrass him in the boardroom.
Adrian never forgot that while I might be his fiancée now, it had been Damien I was with when we were all in high school. I paused for a moment as I picked up the folder. It was odd, really, that he hadn’t waited for Damien’s visit, himself. Normally, he watched the two of us like a hawk when we were together.
Perhaps he was becoming less jealous. With a surge of hope, I almost ran the folder back to Damien. If this was a test, I would pass it, and Adrian would see the truth: no matter how Damien might feel, everything was over between us.
“Do you know what this is?” Damien had opened the folder and was leafing through it, confused.
I shook my head. “He didn’t say.” And it wasn’t my place to ask, my tone said.
“I see.” Damien sighed and rubbed at his forehead, and I looked away. He had been a friend once. He really was kind, and I felt bad for being so cold to him—
Dangerous. Thinking about any other man was dangerous.
“Thank you so much for coming to pick it up.”
“Of course.” Damien forced a smile and headed for the still-open door. “I’ll…get out of your hair.”
“Have a good night.” I started to shut the door after him. “Oh! Wait.”
“Yes?” He turned back too quickly, hope in his eyes.
I hated to dash it away, but I had to. “The elevator. You shouldn’t take it.”
“What?” Disappointment turned to confusion.
“It’s broken.”
“It’s not broken.” He shook his head. “I just came up in it.”
“It’s broken,” I insisted. Adrian had been very clear. The stairs weren’t safe for a woman alone, so I wasn’t to leave until he told me it was fixed. But Damien could handle himself, Adrian had said. “You should take the stairs.”
“They didn’t say anything in the lobby,” he protested.
“You have to take the stairs!” Why I was so panicked, I couldn’t say. Adrian wouldn’t lie to me, so the elevator was broken. And if Adrian found out Damien had taken it, he’d be angry at me. My fingers almost went to my arm, where the memory of his last angry episode would still be darkening on my skin.
“Hey! Hey.” Damien was at my side, his hands resting lightly on my arms. “It’s okay.”
“Please take the stairs.” I felt my chin tremble as I rested my forehead on his chest.
“I will. Of course, I will.” His voice changed. “Lara—”
I wrenched myself away, heart beating too fast. What if Adrian came back? What if he saw the hug? I didn’t feel anything for Damien any longer—to the tell the truth, I wasn’t sure I ever had, he had just adored me and I had known how lucky I was to have the attentions of a handsome, kind man—but I knew Adrian wouldn’t see it that way.
“Thank you for coming by.” I couldn’t look at him. “I’ll…see you tomorrow night at the gala.”
There was a long pause, and I could feel the heartsick look on his face, even if I couldn’t see it.
“Right,” he said quietly. “I’ll…” He sighed. “You know what, I don’t think I’m going to be able to make it. But I’m sure you’ll look beautiful.” He was gone a moment later, his words tearing a hole in my chest, and I pushed the door closed with trembling fingers.
I was not going to cry, I told myself fiercely. I pressed a hand over my mouth, feeling my lips gape underneath, and tried to swallow down the tears. I was not going to cry. I was not going to cry.
I was.
I hardly made it to the bathroom before the first sob burst out of me, and I slammed the door behind myself desperately, bolting it shut. My fingers fumbled with the hairdryer, setting it on high to muffle the noise, and I turned the shower on as well. I didn’t even take my clothes off, just sat under the jet of hot water as the tears shook my chest. I clenched my arms around my knees and rocked back and forth, biting my lip to try to keep the tears back. No one could hear. No one could see.
I was happy. I had everything now. I was not a child, and I’d made the best choice I could. Regrets were pointless, and poverty…
Poverty would drag you down into nothing and kill you slowly until you were a shadow of your former self, degraded and desperate. I’d seen it before, I’d seen it my whole life. I’d seen my mother m
ake the same mistake, over and over, chasing love that never lasted and always coming out poorer for it. I’d seen my sister learn nothing from our mother and throw away everything in the exact same way. I’d seen too many people lost forever.
I could never let that happen to me. I refused. I would be the perfect fiancée—and soon, the perfect wife. I could never to give Adrian cause for reproach. I had to make him happy.
Nothing will ever make Adrian happy. The voice in my head was snide.
Shut up, I told myself.
You would have been better off with Damien.
“Shut up,” I whispered desperately. I couldn’t think like this. I’d go crazy if I thought like this.
I tipped my head back against the wall, letting the tears trickle from beneath my closed eyelids. I already was crazy. I was sitting in the shower in all of my clothes, crying like a child. And what would that change? Nothing. There was no going back now. If I left Adrian…
I picked my head up and wiped my eyes, the very sharpness of the fear steadying me. Adrian was the only safety I had in this world, and I wouldn’t betray him. He had once been kind enough to offer me his protection forever, and I would never do anything to shame him. I would prove to him that I could be gracious and kind and charming no matter how I was tested.
I stood up and stripped off my clothes carefully, putting them in the hamper. I might as well take a shower, since I was here. It would be the first sensible thing I’d done all night. I tried to lose myself in sensation: the feel of the lather, the soap suds sliding down my back, the scent of the shampoo. I could feel the tension draining away. No one to smile for. No one to please. I could be myself, at least for a few minutes.
Still, I forced myself to look in the mirror when I got out of the shower—look, and make sure there was no truth to Adrian’s insults from the past few days. Since my birthday, since I turned 26, he’d been crueler. He told me that I looked old, that I was going to be an embarrassment to him. The fact that most men at his firm had wives their own age meant nothing to him. He always had to have the best, and I knew that his mother was using his worries to try to drive a wedge between the two of us.
HUNTED: A Bad Boy Romance (Books 1-5) Page 1