by Nia Arthurs
I choked. “A what?”
“Like Peter,” she gestured to her henchman, “he infiltrated the target’s life, made himself trustworthy and betrayed them. Mission after mission.”
“You’re saying… Deacon is a killer.” I couldn’t breathe.
“Exactly.” She smiled like I would at one of my students when they got the right answer. “He always got his target. It’s that charming face of his.” She sighed. “Women want him and men want to be like him. He was easy to trust.”
I couldn’t breathe.
A killer. Deacon’s a murderer.
“He retired when Reid was born,” Rhia added. “A tragedy. I’m trying to make things right.”
“You want him to kill again,” I whispered. “For you.”
She nodded.
“So your grand plan was to send Peter to run me over with a bike and if he failed that… to borrow forty bucks with a crazy story about his sick wife?”
“I sent Peter to kidnap Reid,” she said with a wave of her hand. “I gave him the best technology I had in stock.” Rhia’s eyes sharpened. “But he failed.”
“It wasn’t my fault. That stealth suit was acting up.” Peter scrubbed his smooth face. “Gave me a rash.”
“Reid got away and you saved him.” She pointed to me. “Right place, right time. So I tapped into Deacon’s security cameras to try and make a new plan and I saw something very interesting in his office.”
I gaped. “You saw us.”
She gritted her teeth. “Deacon was taking care of you. I called Peter and changed the plan immediately.”
“You wanted Peter to kill me?”
“I wanted him to gain your trust.” She tapped my chin. “It was too easy.”
I wrenched my head away. “What would you have done if I’d left San Pedro?”
“You wouldn’t.”
“How did you know? I was scheduled to leave a few hours later. Your plan would have fallen apart.”
“Deacon wouldn’t have let you go.”
“Why not?”
“Because,” she studied me carefully, “if you were just another woman to him, he would have screwed you in the office.”
My cheeks heated.
“But he was enamored.” She crushed her fingers into fists. “I saw it. You put a spell on him and he hasn’t woken from it since.” Spreading her hands wide, she added, “That’s why I know he’ll be here.”
“And what will you do once he comes?”
“I’m going to slit your throat,” she said flippantly.
My heart pounded. “What?”
“Yes.” Rhia smiled, calm and serene, confirming the fact that she was sick in the head. “I’m going to kill you, and I’m going to make him watch.”
34
Deacon
My fury howled, crying out for blood. Vengeance pulsed through my veins, surging with so much power I could tear through the entirety of Belize on foot.
But I didn’t need to do that.
I’d found Rhia.
She wanted to be found and that bothered me. She was not the cocky type. Her deliberate calculations cemented her position as an expert handler. If she had Angel, she was as good as dead.
Horror twined around my neck.
Don’t think about that.
I took one hand off the wheel and glanced at my phone. The device was propped up on the dashboard. A map blared from the screen and a tiny dot blinked in the middle.
I was nearing Rhia’s location.
Tapping my Bluetooth earpiece, I called Rasheed.
“Boss?”
“How’s Reid?”
“He was confused and crying at first. He wanted to know where you were.”
My heart pinched. “Tell him I’ll be back in time to tuck him in.”
“I will. He’s calm now. Playing with his toys.”
“Keep him safe, Rasheed.” Rhia’s cell phone signal led me here, but I didn’t know what was real and what was a trick. If she had more people working for her, they might target my son.
“We’re locked down here. No one’s getting in or out.”
“Good. Stay away from the windows. Snipers won’t be able to get a proper vantage, but I would prefer not to take chances.”
“We’ll be fine.”
The GPS beeped.
“Rasheed, I need to go.”
“Boss.”
I paused. “What?”
“Don’t die. I can’t run the shop alone.”
My lips twitched. “See you soon.”
Rasheed hung up.
I stuffed the phone in my pocket and tightened my grip on the steering wheel. My eyes skimmed the perimeter through the windshield. There was nothing but thick brush on this side of the highway. Wherever Rhia was, it had to be deeper in. Somewhere my car couldn’t travel.
The tires trampled grass as I rolled as closely to the embankment as I could. Grabbing my bag from the trunk, I selected the gun and set out on foot.
The sun was beginning to set and it left a trail of blazing orange in the horizon. A gentle wind upset the trees and leaves danced in the invisible current.
I stepped carefully, following the thinly carved path in the forest floor. A few minutes of walking and the thick foliage disappeared; leaving a small, damp clearing. The trees grew close together here, choking out the sunlight.
A woman stood in the dark, wearing a fancy pantsuit.
Rhia.
She was alone.
“Where’s Angel?” I called, stopping a few feet away.
“You should have joined hands with me the first time I asked, Reid. Because of your stubbornness, things had to get complicated.”
“Is it that hard to accept rejection, Rhia?”
She stepped closer to me. Her shoes crunched a dried twig. It snapped loudly in the silence. “I don’t like being threatened.”
“You prefer to be the one hurling the threats?”
“We can still make this right.”
“You disrespect me, put the people I love in danger and expect to be co-workers?”
“Don’t be emotional, Deacon. Surely, you understand why I had to take drastic measures?”
“Enough.” I cocked my gun. “Where’s Angel?”
“Are you going to shoot me if I don’t tell you?”
“Maybe.”
She laughed, her eyes glittering like a bat in the night. “Then you’ll never find her.”
“She’s alive?”
“That depends on your answer.”
I put my gun down, letting my arm swing at my side. “What do you want?”
“What I’ve always wanted. Your loyalty.”
“This organization you want to build, will I have equal authority in it?”
“We’ve only got Peter on our side now, but as we grow, you’ll be my second-in-command, answering only to me.” She stepped forward, her hands gesturing wildly and eyes gleaming. “Imagine that power, Deacon. We could change the world.”
“Don’t fool yourself, Rhia. We don’t kill for charity.”
“No, but we’ve brought justice to countless victims who were stepped on like worms beneath the shoes of the powerful. Men and women who slugged their way out of the justice system got their just end. Victims are safer on the streets.”
“You think we’re heroes?”
“I think,” she took another step forward, “that none of us are saints. Not us and not the ones we target. We’re just doing our part and getting paid in the process.”
“Do you honestly believe that the people who pay for our services are worried about justice?”
“Someone worse than the client will eventually come along and we will give them their due.”
“Enough.” I dropped my gun to the grass. “You know why I’m here.”
“Relax, Deacon. Angel is safe at another location. For now. As long as you do as I say, she will remain alive.”
“Good.”
“Good?” Her eyes widened.
I pulled the trigger and shot her, twice to the chest.
She fell, mouth gaping in horror like a fish reeled out of water. I watched coldly as she breathed her last. A haze settled over her eyes.
Death had come to claim her.
I knelt and checked her pulse just to confirm. I didn’t need Rhia popping up again like the villains in action flicks that ‘died’ and then showed up in the sequel.
Nothing fluttered beneath my fingertips.
She was dead.
I slipped her phone out of her pocket and turned away from her bloody carcass to head back to my car. The animals would tear her apart by the time the smell alerted anyone to the location of her body.
A fitting burial.
After tossing my bag into the backseat, I climbed into the driver’s side and checked Rhia’s recent messages. She’d have something in place in case our rendezvous went south.
I found it a few seconds later.
RHIA: If you don’t hear from me in five minutes, kill her.
Panicked, I checked my watch.
There were only fifteen seconds until the five minutes were up.
Did Peter expect Rhia to call?
Since calling him was out of the question, I texted Peter from Rhia’s phone.
RHIA: Deacon has been subdued. Prepare to leave Belize.
I hoped he bought it long enough for me to get there.
With a flick of my wrist, I started the car and sped toward the city.
35
Angel
Time was irrelevant here in this dark place. My legs fell asleep and, when I tried to move them, it felt like thousands of fire ants were climbing over my skin. At least my wrists had gone numb. The zip ties no longer hurt.
Oh, and I needed to pee.
That about summed up my kidnapping experience.
On a scale of one to ‘dead’, I couldn’t really complain. There were worse alternatives. Such as my brains getting blown out of my head.
Peter hadn’t touched me.
Yet.
So I was counting my blessings.
Rhia had left what felt like hours ago. She wasn’t back yet and Peter was getting skittish. It seemed like something wasn’t going right with the plan and I didn’t know whether I should be glad about that or not.
A skittish mercenary wasn’t the best person to be stuck in a dark room with when my hands were tied.
There was no escape and no rescue either. Peter had made it clear that I wasn’t getting out of this alive whether Deacon agreed to Rhia’s proposal or not.
How ironic.
My dad was away, trying to improve his health and live a long life, while my life expectancy was dwindling every minute.
Lord, I needed to use the bathroom. Even hitmen had mercy on women with full bladders, right?
“Um…” I tried to speak up.
Peter slanted me a deranged sneer.
I clamped my lips shut and just squeezed my thighs together. If he killed me, at least I’d find some relief.
“Something doesn’t feel, right. Why would she send me a text instead of call?” He paced to the other side of the room, cell phone plastered to his ear.
I guess he didn’t get through again because he yelled a curse and threw his phone to the ground. In my totally unprofessional opinion, Peter needed some anger management classes and vehement rounds of therapy.
Not that I would suggest that.
Suddenly, he charged over to me. My full bladder shuttled to the back burner as a more pressing concern reared its ugly head. My legs scrambled over the floor, a pathetic attempt to get away even though I was tied to a chair.
He loomed over me, so close I could see the sweat glistening on his chest and neck. Peter grabbed me by the throat.
I screamed, my fingers clawing and stretching within the zip ties.
Something clattered.
Peter froze, his eyes skittered to the door. In a hopeful tone, he mused, “Rhia?”
Instead of the older woman, something hissed. Smoke exploded in the room. Thick. Unfurling faster than I could blink.
Both Peter and I started to cough.
In the mist, I heard a metallic whisk.
A knife.
My bones stiffened when I felt the point against my wrist. I squirmed and fought, but a familiar voice whispered in my ear, “Don’t move, Angel. You’ll get hurt.”
I froze.
Deacon?
Suddenly, my zip ties snapped away, leaving a dizzyingly painful ache in my hands. As the smoke began to clear, I saw Deacon standing next to me.
I was angry, hurt and enraged after hearing the truth about who he was, but in that moment, all I felt was relief.
He wrapped his big fingers around the back of my neck and dragged my head into his chest. “Don’t watch honey,” he breathed against my hair.
I let him hide my face, but I felt when he raised his arm. Felt the tremor of the gun buck in his fingers. Heard the echo the shell made as it clattered to the ground. Heard the thump of a body as it fell lifeless to the floor.
He’d killed him.
Deacon killed Peter.
My brain couldn’t compute such a reality. I trembled and turned my head to confirm the theory, but Deacon’s fingers cupped my jaw and prevented me from spying.
I stared at him. “Is he…?”
Instead of answering, he scooped me into his arms and carried me out of the room. The hallway was bright and I ducked willingly into his shoulder to shade my eyes from the glare.
When I looked up again, I saw Miguel.
My eyebrows shot high. “Are you alright?”
Miguel seemed to understand and nodded.
Deacon shouldered the door and walked me to a car waiting on the front lawn. I glanced back and saw that the building I was in had been a warehouse in the middle of nowhere.
“How did you find me?” I asked. When I came to, I didn’t have my phone and I’d assumed Rhia had taken it.
“This.” He slid a pin from the confines of my ponytail. A light blinked from the end.
“You put a tracker on me? When?” Anger clawed for prominence amid the many emotions swirling in my brain. I was pretty sure illegally tracking someone was against the law.
“I didn’t. Miguel did.”
“He… slipped it on when we met in the bathroom, didn’t he?”
Again, Miguel nodded.
I gasped at Deacon. “You knew Rhia was after me.”
“I had a suspicion.”
Miguel opened the car door and Deacon gently situated me inside. My back melted against the leather seats. Strangely, transferring to this more luxurious and gentle environment made my body ache even more.
I waited until Miguel and Deacon entered the car to speak since the conversation took my mind off the pain. “How long was Miguel spying on me?”
“Since the day you stayed behind with your parents at the hospital,” he said.
I was too tired to argue or to freak out.
“It’s my fault, Angel.” Deacon slammed his fist against the steering wheel. “I should have known.”
“That Peter and Rhia were psychos? Yeah, how did you figure that out?”
“Rasheed showed me the security footage from the day you rescued Reid. I spotted Peter in the crowd hours before he supposedly met his wife at the hospital. I sent Miguel a warning. He was supposed to take you back to San Pedro, but by then it was too late.”
We had so much to talk about, but I was glad to be alive and I didn’t want to think about much else.
“We’re going home now,” Deacon said as if he could read my exhaustion. “We’ll catch the last flight back.”
True to his word, Deacon drove straight to the airport. We almost missed the flight, but he managed to smooth talk the pilot.
I slept the entire way.
When I felt someone shaking my shoulders, I startled and realized we’d landed in San Pedro. My wrists were practically screaming in pain and it was hard to move.<
br />
Deacon helped me off the plane and guided me to the parking lot where Rasheed had the golf cart. Reid was sitting up front with him in a baby seat.
The moment the little boy saw his father, he jumped to the sidewalk and took off. Deacon picked up his son and swung him high.
I watched their reunion with mixed feelings.
How could a man that devoted to his son kill others for a living?
Rasheed touched my shoulder. “I’m glad you’re okay. Boss was worried when he ran out earlier.”
“Thanks.”
Rasheed nodded and then turned to Deacon. “The boat’s at the marina. You all should head out before it gets any darker.”
“Ready to go home, Reid?” Deacon bounced the baby and earned happy laughter.
I stared at them, my confusion mounting. This picture… it just didn’t match up. Who should I trust? The Deacon who was wholly devoted his son? Or the Deacon that told me to close my eyes while he shot a man in cold blood?
“Angel?”
I spun and found all the guys staring at me from their perch in the golf cart.
Deacon’s eyes were dark and unreadable in the dusk. “Are you getting on?”
I scrambled into the vehicle and remained silent all the way to the marina.
On the ride to the villa, I held Reid tightly in my lap and tried to make sense of everything that had happened today.
The closer we got to the house, the more I wondered if I’d made the right choice in following Deacon back.
He was dangerous.
A complete mystery.
How many people had he killed? How much trouble had he gotten into? How many more enemies did he have lined up?
The boat’s motor slowed as we entered the channel. Miguel jumped to the dock and tied the rope. Deacon abandoned the wheel and approached me. His boots trotted against the floor.
I handed Reid over without looking at him. “I think he’s hungry. I’ll make us something for dinner.”
“Angel.” He snatched my wrist, right over the scrapes the ties had made on my skin.
I hissed.
Stricken, Deacon released me. He shook his head and grinded his teeth together, causing his jaw line to go rigid. “Go inside,” he said roughly, “and rest. Don’t do anything else.”