Adrienne Giordano

by Relentless Pursuit

  And that gun was pointed right at her. Terror, hot and slick, raced inside her. Her hands began to shake. Whooshing in her head blurred her vision. She blinked, tried to focus.

  “Out,” he said again.

  Just do what he says. Trembling, she flipped open the lock. The man jerked the door open and grabbed her by the arm. His fingers bit into her flesh and, in one jarring motion, snatched her from the car. She stumbled, cursing herself for not wearing flats. Even if she could get free, she couldn’t run in these. She’d have to kick them off. Chances were she’d be dead before she got one shoe off.

  “You stupid bitch.” He dragged her toward the building.

  If nothing else, she was about to see if Billy was inside.

  * * *

  Billy stared at Bradley J. “Here’s what I know…”

  The front door opened and Billy swung toward it, weapon raised, while Monk stayed on Bradley J. At the door, Reed Davis halted and put his hands up. His gaze went straight to Billy’s gun.

  “In here. Now,” Billy hollered.

  Slowly, Reed stepped into the room, arms raised. Billy motioned to Monk, who searched the man for weapons.

  “Clean,” Monk said shoving Reed over to the desk with Bradley so they could keep an eye on them.

  Leaning back on the desk and folding his arms, Reed grinned. “This must be Billy Tripp.”

  “Bradley,” Billy said. “Take a look at the guy next to you. He’s going to screw you. Hard.”

  “Shut up,” Reed said.

  The front door opened again. Jeez-us. Billy swung toward it, weapon raised, only to see Kristen being pushed through by one of the beefheads that tossed him to the gator. He held a .45 on her.

  Immediately, Billy’s brain went to overdrive. He focused on Kristen. The one thing he could have lived without was seeing Kristen with a cannon pointed at her.

  His legs, his arms, his chest, everything, buzzed. Images of all the death he’d seen, skulls blown apart, temples with gaping holes, blood-matted hair raced through his mind.

  I could lose her.

  Sweat pooled in Billy’s palm. He tightened his grip on his weapon and fought the surging panic. If Kristen broke a nail, he’d slaughter this fucker. And it would be ugly. And painful. And extremely bloody. He should pop this guy for even putting his hands on her.

  What little sense Billy possessed hissed at him.

  How the hell did she even get here? Had this guy grabbed her at the hotel? Couldn’t be. The place was teeming with people. How could he have snatched her?

  Blood raced into his limbs, stealing all that precious oxygen from his internal organs. The lack of focus banged at his skull making him sweat.

  Get her out of here.

  Monk still had his gun on Reed. Bradley J. sat at the desk looking like he’d witnessed a massacre, clearly crapping his pants. He wasn’t going anywhere.

  Billy turned his gun and attention to the goon with Kristen. “Drop it!”

  No dice. The goon kept the gun jammed against Kristen’s head.

  Take him out.

  From this distance, Billy could nail the shot and Kristen would stay unharmed. She’d be traumatized though.

  He took air through his nose, held it a sec and eased it out again. The flood of oxygen relieved his cramping stomach. Thank you.

  “Well,” Reed swung his head between Billy and the goon, “looks like we have a stalemate here.”

  “Let her go,” Billy said. “She walks out of here and the rest is up to us.”

  Reed clucked his tongue. “I don’t think so.”

  And where the hell was Bobby?

  Billy turned to Bradley J. “You can either be the guppy or the shark. Old Reed here is gonna try and make you the shark.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “Think about it. The paper trail on the dealerships leads to you. How the hell do you think I found you? My guess is, you’ll get busted for smuggling and Reed can sit back, pretend like he didn’t know a damned thing about stolen cars and nuclear weapons while his registered agent takes the heat.”

  Bradley snapped his head back. “Nuclear weapons?”

  This guy could be a terrific bullshit artist, but from the way his gaze bounced around, Billy didn’t think so. “Bend over, pal. You’re about to get that screwing.”

  “He’s not the only one.” Bobby’s voice from the catwalk above.

  Finally, an appearance from his missing teammate. For effect, Bobby put the laser on his gun to use. Wasn’t this sweet? Bobby could hit a target at two thousand yards, and he had his gun trained on Reed Davis’s forehead.

  Billy’s bargaining power for Kristen just increased. Not in his lifetime would he believe they’d let her walk out of here, but he could at least get her away from that monster .45. He glanced at her and their eyes met for a second. His girl was one tough cookie. As spooked as she looked, she wasn’t sobbing. Nope. She stood there, staring at him, silently pleading with him to help her. And he would. If he did nothing else, he’d get her out of here. Or die trying.

  “Boys, we have a situation.” He glanced at Reed. “There are two guns aimed at you. Your boy can’t shoot all three of us at once. Do the math. One of us gets shot, your ass is going down.”

  Billy, still focused on Reed, took a step toward the goon and Kristen. “I’m gonna have Ms. Dante step over here. Nobody else moves. Got it? And if you think I won’t kill you, think again. Not only are you holding a gun to my girl, you threw me to a gator.”

  For a second, the only sound in the room was the rumble of a truck driving by. “Kristen, come over here.”

  The goon looked toward his boss. “Let her go,” Reed said. “This nut might be crazy enough to shoot me.”

  “You have no idea.”

  * * *

  Kristen absorbed the idea that a giant handgun that could take apart her head was still pointed at her. Twenty feet in front of her, Billy had his own gun pointed in her direction. He jerked his head to get her moving. And yet, she couldn’t. Fear had locked her knees. Simple as that.

  “Kristen, move!”

  The sharp, dominant tone stung her and suddenly, this was not playful Billy. This Billy, in his wrinkled pants and dress shirt, wore a look of stonelike intensity that rendered her mute. Playful Billy had morphed into warrior Billy and, although comforted by his total lack of fear, Kristen wondered if she knew this man at all.

  Either way, warrior Billy prompted her to get moving. With quick steps, silently praying as she went along, she moved toward him. His eyes were on the man behind her, the one with the giant gun, and not knowing what else to do, she stood next to Billy. He slid in front of her, his big body shielding her from both the man with the gun and Reed Davis and Bradley J. Murphy.

  She rested her head against the back of his shoulder and a blip of relief loosened her aching limbs. They weren’t safe yet, but at least she didn’t have a gun pointed at her head. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

  He shushed her. This was bad, and she didn’t see how any of them were going to get out of here without someone dying.

  “We’re making progress,” Billy said. “Now, Bradley J., Reed will let you fry on the smuggling charge. That’s federal and will put you away for a good, long while. How do you feel about being gang raped in the shower? If that doesn’t work for you, you might want to reconsider your loyalties.”

  Kristen dared to peek at Bradley J. Murphy and saw him staring back, his eyes big and round with the fear Billy had plunged into him. At least she wasn’t the only one terrified.

  “Tick-tock, Bradley J.”

  “I only knew about the cars.”

  “Shut up!” Reed Davis roared, his face contorting into an evil Kristen had never seen on him. Usually this man was charming and slick. Gentle even. Not now.

  Bradley turned to him. “You didn’t tell me about nuclear weapons. The cars were harmless.”

  How out of touch were these people that they thought stealing f
rom others was harmless?

  Bradley spun to Billy, who still had his gun on Kristen’s captor. “All I was supposed to do was be the registered agent. Alex handled dealing with the dealerships. Reed hired people to copy the keys. At the BMW dealership it’s the service manager. At Jaguar it’s one of the mechanics.”

  “What about the antennas?” Billy asked.

  “I’m not involved in that. That’s the gangs. One of Reed’s contacts figured out how to start the cars with the antennas. Reed went to one of the gang leaders to get them on board. The gang was paid per car.”

  “Shut the fuck up.” Reed took a lunging step.

  “Don’t bother,” Billy said as Bobby pointed his laser at Reed’s chest. “You’ll be dead before your next step.”

  Reed stayed put and Billy nodded toward Murphy. “What about the hotels? Who at the hotels is involved? Who knew about the blind spot?”

  Bradley shook his head. “Alex got those people. Someone at the security company that originally installed the cameras told him about the blind spot. At Dante, one of the housekeeper’s sons is in the gang. His little brother hangs out at the hotel.”

  Oh, my God.

  “Shit,” Billy muttered.

  “The gang kid worked the password from his little brother. He helps the mother log which rooms she’s completed and has her password. The remote login address wasn’t hard to get and they used the maid’s password to get into the system. That’s how they know how long people are staying.”

  Manny. A hot slice of betrayal tore into Kristen and her heart broke for the little boy who’d been deceived by his sibling. Kristen knew all about that, which only made the hurt worse.

  The entry door flew open and chaos consumed the room as a line of SRT guys in riot gear charged in. A mix of identifying shouts pounded at Kristen and her gaze fixed on the men. Her former captor raised his gun.

  No.

  A booming sound filled the air, followed by the rat-a-tat-tat of an automatic weapon. Kristen’s ears nearly bled from the battering sounds and Billy shouted, “Kristen! Down!”

  “Drop the gun,” someone else yelled.

  Shock consumed her. She watched Billy’s mouth move, his face twisted in an odd sort of panicked rage, but the words collapsed under the deafening gunfire.

  “Get down,” he yelled again.

  Tired of waiting, he stiff-armed her. She crashed to the floor, knees slamming onto the concrete. The stinging pain drove into her legs. She brought her arms over her head as more shots sounded.

  No more. No more.

  When her throat began to ache, she realized she was screaming. Forget bravery. Right now, she simply wanted to live through the ordeal. She mashed her hands tighter over her ears, but the barrage of shots kept coming and tears toppled down her face.

  Just let me live, just let me live, just let me live.

  Suddenly, a huge weight bore down on her.

  Don’t want to die.

  As quickly as the gunfire began, it stopped and the room went still. The officers shouted demands, but Kristen stayed put, afraid to move as her body shivered under the oppressive weight.

  “You okay?” Billy’s voice broke through the haze.

  Her cheek to the cold, harsh floor, she opened her eyes, saw a white shirtsleeve that didn’t belong to her. Billy lay on top of her, shielding her from flying bullets.

  “I think so.” But the tremble in her voice shattered her confidence. “You?”

  “I’m good.”

  When he kissed the side of her head, her body began to quake and she gritted her teeth. She’d lied. When the hell would bullets flying at her make her okay?

  “Hands where I can see them,” someone yelled and Billy rolled off her.

  “Kick that weapon away from you,” came from somewhere else, and Kristen prayed Monk and Bobby were unharmed.

  “Hands in the air,” one of the SRT guys said to Billy.

  Kristen pushed her quivering body to all fours and locked her elbows. “I’m Kristen Dante. My family owns the Dante hotel. Billy, Peter and Bobby are part of the hotel’s security team. These other men, I believe, are involved in the car theft ring that has targeted my hotel.”

  Three breaths later, she glanced to her right and spotted an officer handcuffing Billy. Near the desk, Reed Davis and Bradley Murphy were also handcuffed. Behind her, Peter and Bobby stood in the middle of the room enduring a pat down, their weapons nowhere to be seen.

  Everyone was safe.

  Except her captor. He lay in a heap by the door. Kristen’s stomach lurched at the expanding reddish-black puddle under him. How did a random car theft turn into this nightmare?

  She turned to Billy. Without stepping from his spot and igniting the officer’s wrath, he squatted to eye level with her. “You all right?”

  Literally or figuratively? Either way, the answer would probably be a solid, absolute no. This would be life with Billy Tripp. Maybe she wouldn’t have guns aimed at her, but she’d always be afraid for him. Always be wondering if he was safe or if he’d thrown himself into danger’s path. If she’d learned anything about him it was that, at times, he simply couldn’t help himself.

  No, what she needed was an office guy. Someone who left in the morning and came home at night. Every night. None of this gun garbage.

  What a switch. Just hours ago she’d been thinking Billy Tripp might be a keeper and suddenly all the fear and rage and heartbreak from the last minutes balled into a flaming burst of energy that scorched her body. Dammit. With little else to relieve the agony, she let her tears bubble over.

  “Ah, Jesus Christ, Billy,” an angry, familiar voice said.

  Thankful for the distraction, she swiveled to see Detective Wilson storming toward them.

  “You couldn’t give me a heads up and wait?” he shouted.

  Still handcuffed, Billy shrugged. “I didn’t know what we had. Could have been nothing.”

  “This place just got shot up. That’s nothing? And you endangered a civilian. We got a 9-1-1 from a lady who saw Kristen get dragged in here or I would have been scrambling to get a warrant.”

  “First off, I didn’t know about Kristen.” He looked at her. “Why the hell were you here?”

  Now it was her fault? “I tried to call you. You didn’t pick up and I was afraid Reed would flee. How would I know I’d be dragged from my car?”

  Wilson held up his hands. “Both of you stop talking.” He turned to Billy. “I’m helping you here. Do not speak without a lawyer. Got it?”

  They nodded as Wilson helped Kristen to her feet. “The officers will take you outside while we figure this mess out.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  By eight o’clock that evening, Billy stood outside Kristen’s suite, bone tired and not in the mood for a fight. At least he’d managed to finally take a shower and get clean clothes. Upon his return from the P.D. he’d wanted to come straight to Kristen, but figured ten minutes in a hot shower would settle his already fried brain.

  It wasn’t like he didn’t already have issues with controlling his mouth. Throw in exhaustion and a whole lot of irritation and he was screwed.

  Now he stood in front of her door, debating whether he should knock. He hadn’t seen or spoken to her since that morning—when she almost got shot—and wondered how welcome his presence would be.

  Then again, calling just seemed lame.

  He dragged his hand over his face, tugging on his skin as he went along. Hell of a day, Billy boy.

  Bound to get worse after he knocked on this door. Bad enough that he’d talked to Vic and Mike on the way over and they’d given him a few more bodily holes. Now he’d have to figure out how to make nice with Kristen. Knowing what he did about her, how she hated drama inflicted on her by others, he didn’t think any of his weak explanations would suffice.

  He had to try though. If only to understand where exactly they stood in this relationship. And when did it become that? The big R-word. Next he’d be buying property a
nd life as he knew it would be over.

  As much as he tried to conjure distaste for the concept, it wouldn’t come. The thought of leaving in the morning with her mad at him, without the chance to mend whatever this relationship was, kicked him in the gut. He rubbed at the spot, fully engaged his filter and banged on the door.

  A minute later, Jess opened the door, grinning at him with all the smug she could summon.

  Here he thought it couldn’t get worse.

  “She’s not interested.” Jess took way too much pleasure in that statement.

  “I’m shocked to see you here.”

  “Yeah, well, my sister and I don’t always play nice, but when someone—namely you—tries to get her killed, I rise to the occasion.”

  Tries to get her killed. He’d give Jess credit for delivering a solid one-two punch of a line. Fudging great.

  He glanced behind her into the suite, but didn’t see Kristen. “Is she here?”

  “In her room. She just got out of the tub.”

  “Are you going to let me in?”

  Jess puckered her lips. “Nope.”

  Based on her body language, the folded arms, the steady stare, she wasn’t kidding. “I’m not going to upset her—”

  “She’s already upset.”

  Billy focused on getting around the guard dog. “I’m not going to upset her any further. I need to see her before I leave.”

  “Let him in, Jess.”

  Kristen stepped from the bedroom dressed in a pair of her yoga pants with the wrap jacket she wore the first time he’d come to see her. And yes, he still wanted to strip her out of that jacket.

  “One thing I know,” she said, “is he won’t go away until he says what’s on his mind.”

  “Uh, ouch.” No denying the pop of that not-so-disguised insult.

  Jess pushed by him. “I’ll be back in ten minutes.”

  “Thank you.” Couldn’t hurt to be nice to Kristen’s family. Even if Jess did irritate the ever-loving-crap out of him. Then again, maybe that’s how people felt about him. He blew out a breath. Yeah, don’t go there.