She stroked the hair off his face, attempting to soothe him. "He's next door, and he's not going anywhere. He's alive and staying that way." Please, God, don’t make me a liar.
Tension bled out of his body, and he sank back onto the bed. "I saw him lying in remains of the bedroom and thought he was dead. I couldn't go to him. I had to find you. But damn, you did not need my help."
“I wouldn’t have gotten out of that room without you.” She pressed her cheek to his and basked in the gentle abrasion of his stubble.
His snort ended on a deep groan with him clutching his side where he’d been impaled. “Maybe.” He managed to say after a few seconds. “But doubtful. You would’ve found a way because it’s who you are, a tenacious badass.” His cupped the back of her head and pressed her closer. “I swear I will never underestimate you again.”
She eased away to meet his gaze again. "Aw. You say the sweetest things, and I'm never gonna let you forget you said that." She had one more question to ask and then she'd let him rest. "Did you hear the last thing I said to you before the house collapsed? Before everything went dark?"
His hand dropped to the bed, and his eyelids drooped. Yet a weak grin curled his lips. "Can't remember. Say it again."
Bailey kissed him, because she couldn’t resist, then whispered in his ear because this was their moment and she didn’t want to share. “I love you.”
"Yeah, I heard it, and I love you, too." His voice trailed off at the end and then he was gone. The steady blip of the machines, the only sound in the room.
She held his hand, took comfort in the warmth of his skin and his underlying strength. He lay there, wounded, but not broken, as was Hank in the next room. She could've lost them, an unbearable possibility when she just found them.
A throat cleared. Bailey turned to find the woman she’d seen outside Hank’s house in the room. The white coat was gone, replaced with continuous black, including the hat perched on her head like a small crow sitting on a cloud of salt and pepper hair. A pair of leather gloves clutched in her hand completed the ensemble. Was she in mourning?
“I came to congratulate Emmet and Hank on a successful mission, even though the clean-up continues to be messy. Hank was always good with ordnance and demolition. He did an excellent job of bringing the house down without killing himself. Though you contributed heavily to his survival, especially with Rogers little more than a gooey mess inside the remains of the safe room. I thank you for that feat, Miss Monroe. Or will it be Murray? Or perhaps Streeter in the near future?”
Bailey couldn't answer those questions. Especially the last one. Not that she needed to answer any to the stranger in her presence. The cool, though not quite neutral gaze assessed her, and Bailey didn't shrink. If this woman were here to hurt Hank or Emmet, she'd leave in pieces.
“You don’t seem like much, but you’ve proven to be quite resourceful.” She waved her gloves at Bailey dismissively.
“FYI. You don’t link an insult with a compliment. And who are you?”
The woman’s gaze turned condescending. “Don’t ask questions you already know the answer to.” She glanced around Bailey and studied Emmet, and then glanced through the now parted curtains into Hank’s room.
"I'm a firm believer in DNA. However, time will tell."
What the hell did that mean?
The woman turned on the heels of her sensible black shoes and grabbed the handle of the door and paused. "The future unfolds in precarious ways. I suspect our paths will cross again, Miss Monroe, and I wait in anticipation for that day to come. The agency could use another female to balance the testosterone. That being said, offering you a job would place me in Hank's crosshairs. And Emmet's. Can't have my best operatives vying to kill me." She sighed, and her gaze turned flinty. "We've had enough of that already. Too many funerals. Take care of them." She sailed out of the room. Two men lined up behind her while a third man took the lead.
With her exit, she planted a seed in suddenly fertile soil, which was probably her intention.
Me? A hitwoman? Nah. I couldn’t possibly do that…
Could I?
Epilogue
Two Months Later.
Gingerly, Emmet exited his Porsche 911. He tried not to favor his left side and failed. The wound on his side and the gunshot to his thigh had healed but would take time for him to return to peak form. Impossible to do with Bailey playing nursemaid.
Bailey. The mere thought of her name made warmth spread through his chest.
The only reason she wasn’t glued to his side right now was because of Daisy dragging her out for an early dinner. At his suggestion. He loved Bailey; however, this was the one place he couldn’t bring her—yet.
Sidewalk traffic was light for a late-afternoon weekday. No one stood out as he made a quick scan of the area. The two guns holstered under his arms were in easy reach. Rogers may be dead, and all of the men who followed him, but a man in this line of work was never at ease. Things at the agency had settled, and while he remained on the sideline healing from his injuries, one never knew who'd see this as an opportunity. After Rogers, his circle of trust included two people.
And he planned on keeping it that way.
Emmet entered the building. He flashed a gray business card that held no information other than a black rock to the security guard on duty and was led to a private elevator. On the twelfth floor of the fifty-story building, a woman greeted him when the door slid open. “Good afternoon, sir. May I take your coat?” Her fake English accent didn’t quite pass muster.
“No.”
She didn’t expect that and barely managed to hide her surprise. “Very well, sir. If you’d follow me, I will take you directly to Mr. Pimmer.” Her heels were silent on the thick carpet as they made their way through the showroom, empty not counting the three armed security guards. He noted she didn’t ask for his name or volunteer hers. Strange way to conduct business, even if they were forewarned of his presence.
“No business today?” he asked.
She glanced over her shoulder at him. "As a personal friend of Mr. Morgan, we could do no less than give you our undivided attention." They passed display cases filled with the usual wares, nothing he was interested in. At a locked door, she paused and pressed her hand against a biometric scanner. The scanner beeped, she opened the door and swept aside for him to enter.
Emmett noticed the standard issue guard near the door and took in the spacious office, done in muted tones, with blackout curtains keeping the room private from outside interests. The desk was glass and draped with a black velvet cloth. On the surface, a computer, and several display cases, half filled with loose gems, the rest filled with an assortment of jewelry. He took all this in as he crossed the room to meet the man seated behind the desk, a man who was as wide as he was tall, with jowls instead of a neck.
“Mr. Streeter, a pleasure to serve you today. I’m Darwin Pimmer.”
Emmet leaned across the desk for a handshake.
“Please make yourself comfortable.”
Emmet lowered himself onto the leather chair next to him. He arranged himself for easy access to his weapons, sat back, and crossed his legs.
"May we offer you some refreshments? Wine, or perhaps something stronger?" Primmer flicked a finger at the woman who greeted him at the entrance. She waited by a cart laden with liquor and a variety of snacks ranging from brie and crackers to chips and dip.
“No, thank you.” This wasn’t a social call.
Primmer tipped his head and folded his hands on the table, between his wares. “What brings you to my doorstep this evening?”
“An engagement ring.”
Primmer’s broad face broke into a wide smile. “Congratulations. I hope it is not presumptuous to wish you a happy and fruitful marriage.”
“Thank you.”
“Nancy, if you’d please.” His assistant removed two display cases filled with jewelry but left the loose diamonds and other gems. “Are you seeking something spec
ific? A certain cut or carat?” Like a true salesman, his hand brushed the largest of the diamonds displayed while Nancy left through a side door and returned seconds later with more cases filled with rings. Emmet suspected Julius may have forewarned Pimmer about his possible intentions.
Nancy placed the cases in front of Emmet. Good lord, there were so many. Too many choices for a man whose sole piece of jewelry was a Breitling, a birthday gift from Hank. “No, and I’m open to suggestions.”
Mr. Pimmer tipped his head in understanding. “Tell me about the person who will become your spouse.”
Emmet gave an inward chuckle at Mr. Pimmer’s adroit navigation of a social landmine. In the business of selling high-end jewelry, why offend anyone when profit had no gender or bias?
How to describe Bailey? “She’s…independent, stubborn, smart.” The generic description summed up half the women in the world. There was more to her than three adjectives. “She doesn’t know how beautiful she is.”
“Ah, but you do,” Pimmer said knowingly.
Not use denying it. Yes, he did know how beautiful she was, and he would tell her so every day.
“Nancy, tray number five, please.”
She pressed a panel on the wall which retracted and revealed rows of cases filled with jewelry. Pimmer was very lucky Emmet wasn’t a thief because he would’ve cleaned their clock.
Nancy brought a tray of diamond rings to the desk. Similar sizes, different, they were all spectacular; however, one ring whispered her name. Before Pimmer began his spiel, Emmet lifted the ring from its nest.
"That beauty is a radiant cut three-carat diamond set in a platinum basket setting. The band is lined with twenty-two pavé diamonds. A radiant cut diamond is one of the rarest cuts you will ever find. See how it catches the light?”
No, all he could see was it on her finger the moment she said yes. “This one.” No need to discuss price. Whatever the cost, he would have it.
“An excellent choice. We will box and wrap it.” Pimmer held out his hand for the ring and passed it to Nancy. She left the room while Emmet handed over his platinum card.
“Sorry to interrupt, Emmet, but have you made your purchase?”
The voice came from the entrance. Emmet let Pimmer handle the greeting since he'd leaped to his feet and practically wobbled around the table. "Mr. Morgan. I didn't expect you this evening. What brings you here today?"
Morgan waved the man away. “No purchases tonight, Darwin. I’m here to catch up with an old friend. Can we have the room for a few moments?” He took Pimmer’s seat.
Primmer’s sharp gaze darted between Morgan and Emmet, even as he bowed and waved to his guards to leave. “Of course. My home is your home.” Quickly, he closed up shop, securing all the jewels back in the safe. Next, he signaled everyone to leave and with a soft click, closed the door behind him.
Emmet eyed his friend. He had an idea what this was about and didn’t like it one bit. “You coulda called. The dramatic entrance was unnecessary.”
Julius shrugged. "Yeah, well, I was in town, and I knew where you would be. Did you find what you wanted?"
“Yeah. I think she’ll like it.”
“How much it set you back?”
Emmet laughed. “I don’t even know. Doesn’t matter. She’s worth it.”
“Spoken like a man in love.” He sighed heavily. “Sorry to rain on your day.”
“But…” Emmet supplied.
"You owe me, and I'm calling in my marker."
Last night, he promised Bailey he was done. Told her he was out of the agency. Even showed her his resignation letter, not that he needed one. Today, he was back in. If a man didn’t live by his word, then he shouldn’t live. A motto Hank lived by and taught him to live by.
The engagement would have to wait. Emmet locked eyes with his friend. “My gun is yours. Who do you need killed?”
◆◆◆
Wait! Don’t leave yet!
Thank you for reading Plain Jane and the Hitman. I hope you enjoyed the novel. Emmet and Bailey’s story isn’t over. They still have to get married. Plain Jane and the Hitman’s Wedding, coming summer 2019.
Before their wedding, you can expect Plain Jane and the Marine, the next book in the Plain Jane series will be available on Amazon this spring.
If you enjoyed Plain Jane and the Hitman, please take a moment to show your support by leaving a short review on the product page where your purchase was made. Your reviews are essential and help readers discover new books!
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Books
Plain Jane Series
Plain Jane and the Hitman
Plain Jane and the Marine (Spring 2019
Plain Jane and the Hitman’s Wedding (Summer 2019)
Plain Jane and the Billionaire (Fall 2019)
Descendants of Ra series
Entrapped Prequel (coming soon)
Eternity Book 1
Everlasting Book 2
Evermore Book 3
Encore Book 4
Forever Novella Book 4.5
Entwined (Book 5 coming soon)
The UnHallowed Series.
Only The Fallen (Book 1)
Only One I Want (Book 2)
Only You (Book 3)
Only One I’ll Have (Book 4)
Only One I Need (Book 4 coming soon)
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About the Author
Passion changes everything, especially for the characters Tmonique writes about in her Descendants of Ra, UnHallowed, and Plain Jane series. Flawed characters who reflect the emotional baggage we all carry interests her the most. She writes complicated stories for complicated people.
She loves SyFy and the History channel, and also Asian cuisine, but her heart and stomach long for anything from the Caribbean. She’ll read anything about fairies, demons, or angels. Her favorite authors are JR Ward, Gena Showalter, and Kresley Cole. She also enjoys Stephen King, Dean Koontz, and Preston & Child. At any given time, you can find her on Facebook and live tweeting her favorite shows, The Walking Dead and Game of Thrones.
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