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Harlequin Romantic Suspense January 2021

Page 75

by Marie Ferrarella, Regan Black, Karen Whiddon


  “C’mon, c’mon,” he said under his breath.

  He tried again, punching the numbers with frustrating slowness. Thankfully, the second effort paid off. The safe clicked, and the door opened so that Noah could reach in and grab his gun. The moment he had it in his grip, he was on his feet and running again.

  He darted past Rog, noting absently that his neighbor’s phone conversation had become animated—which he thought was a good thing. He leaped over the corner of the pool, slammed through the gate once more, and thumped to the curb. There, he stopped just long enough to swing his head back and forth.

  Which way?

  Not the direction he’d come—his neighbor was right about that. Unlikely to have headed into town, too.

  “South,” he muttered.

  Then he hit the pavement again, his boots slapping the concrete with the effort. In seconds, he was at the other end of the motel. A heartbeat later, he was rounding the corner. And just a moment after that, he was wishing that he’d exercised a little more of his usual caution. Because the inked-up man—who was exactly who Noah had thought it would be—stood waiting.

  The six-foot-five man had his back pressed to a tree, looking more like he was holding it up than the other way around. The tattoo in question added an unnecessarily dangerous element to his already intimidating presence. His stance was also designed to be daunting. One meaty hand rested on a weapon, and a scowl covered his features, and the sheen of sun on his shaved head seemed designed to dare anyone to approach. None of that was unexpected. None of it—not even the gun—was a deterrent for Noah. What made him stop dead was the position of the man’s other hand. It was wrapped firmly around Elle’s ponytail.

  CHAPTER 6

  Noah very nearly took a step toward Elle. He could see that the enormous man’s grip was causing her pain. Her mouth was set in a line, but she was drawing in quick, short breaths between her narrowed lips. Dots of tears marked the corners of her eyes. Her hands were clenched into fists, too. She was the picture of silent suffering.

  It pained Noah in an oddly sharp way to see it, and it was the little stab in his ribcage that made him realize it would be a terrible idea to go to her. The last thing he needed was for her captor to see that he might have some leverage.

  Action over emotion, he told himself firmly.

  Careful not to meet Elle’s eyes again—or even look at her—he instead tucked his gun into the rear of his pants, then greeted the big man as if it were just the two of them grabbing a coffee. “Afternoon, Dez.”

  The big man’s bald head bobbed, his tone equally friendly. “Loblaw.”

  Noah could feel Elle’s surprise at the casual exchange of names, but he still didn’t turn his attention her way. “You’re pretty far from home.”

  “I go where the cases take me. Can’t help it if that lands me in your backyard.”

  “True enough. But it does look like you’ve got something that belongs to me.”

  Dez spat sideways. “C’mon, man. You know how this works. You abandoned a target—I snatched her up. Fair game.”

  Noah layered his reply with a careful mix of disbelief and surprise. “Putting aside the fact that leaving her in my home is hardly abandonment, and not bothering to point out that it’d be equally hard to describe breaking and entering as fair game… Sorry, dude. You’ve got it wrong. She’s not a target.”

  Dez tipped his head in Elle’s direction. “You walking around under the name Elle O’Malley?”

  She let out a whimper that could’ve been either a denial or an affirmation, and Noah fought a growl. He wanted to tell the other man to loosen his damn grip, but he kept it in.

  “Doesn’t matter what her name is,” he said dismissively. “She’s a client.”

  Dez didn’t budge. “I think we can both agree that sometimes in our business, the lines on these things get crossed. She’s a big ticket, friend. I’m not turning her over to you just because she’s trying to use you to buy her own way out of a debt.”

  Noah’s jaw ached from holding it so stiffly. “She’s a bigger ticket on my end.”

  For the first time, the big man looked interested. “Is that right? You know, I have always been curious about your rates.”

  Noah sidestepped the implied question about his earnings, and instead said, “What’s the price on her head? I’ll pay it.”

  “I wouldn’t be able to stay in business if I sold out my clients whenever the opportunity came up. You know how many times a target offers to pay me off?”

  “I do. And I don’t care. I’ll add half again to your usual fee as a show of good faith. Call it solidarity.”

  “You’re saying you’d give me four and half K, just to get this girl back?”

  Noah almost laughed. Both at how much lower the man’s fee was than his own, and at the probability that even with the gap, he was probably exaggerating the price.

  “I’m not saying I would. I’m saying I will. That ‘girl’ owes me three thousand, one hundred and seventy-three dollars in expenses,” he stated. “So I’m just gonna tack your fee to that, bill her for the whole thing, and call it a day.”

  Both of Dez’s eyebrows went up. “Who the hell is she to you?”

  Noah kept an utterly neutral tone as he offered a shrug. “Like you said… Elle O’Malley. This month’s paycheck.”

  The other man studied him like he was considering the validity of the claim. “Tell me the truth, Loblaw. What’s your going rate? Fess up, and I’ll think about giving up my target.”

  “How about I make you a deal instead, Dez? You let her go first. Then you answer a few questions for me, and instead of telling you my going rate, I’ll give it to you.”

  “Give it to me?”

  “I’ll pay you my usual retrieval fee.”

  “Interesting proposal.”

  From the corner of his eye, Noah saw the slightest bit of tension slip from Elle’s face, and he was sure his fellow bounty hunter had eased his hold.

  Good.

  “You’re a man who knows which risks to take,” Noah added. “Guess it’s up to you whether you’d rather engage in a physical fight with me or whether you want to take a chance at making some money.”

  Dez’s gaze turned shrewd. “What makes you think I won’t just kill her instead of fighting you?”

  “Because you’re not a ‘dead-or-alive’ guy to start with, and also because whoever’s paying for the retrieval wants her in one piece.”

  There was a long pause, and then Elle stumbled forward a little. Noah exhaled, but he didn’t let himself reach out like his instincts told him to. In fact, he really had to fight to keep from doing it. A big part of him expected her to jump into his arms anyway. To her credit, though, she just drew in a deep breath, stabilized herself, and stepped to his side. Noah’s fingers twitched with a need to brush against her elbow, and he wanted to gently ask if she was okay. He stayed both urges, promising silently that he’d follow up once they were alone.

  He bent his head down just long enough to say, “Let me do the talking,” then lifted his attention to the big man once more.

  “Okay…” said Dez, his demeanor abruptly easier. “Now that that’s out of the way…ask whatever it is you’d like to know. I’m all yours.”

  Noah nodded brusquely. “First and foremost, I want to know who hired you, and how you got wind of the job.”

  “Can’t answer the former too well,” the other man admitted. “It was a company name of some kind. Iris International.”

  Elle stiffened in a barely perceptible way, and Noah knew she recognized the organization. He didn’t comment on it, and instead remained focused on getting more information.

  “And the latter part?” he prodded.

  Dez scratched at his temple with his weapon. “You gotta know already that some of us operate outside the…uh…usual channels.
Folks who don’t ask a ton of questions about retrieval.”

  Impatience crept up. “Yeah, buddy. I’m aware that very few of us like to color inside the lines.”

  “No need to get defensive. Just saying. There’s a forum online. Coded and stuff. This came up just this morning.”

  Noah’s fingers drummed against his thigh. He had zero interest in becoming involved with the seedier side of his chosen profession. He was, however, curious about how it worked, and whether there was some advantage to be had in knowing about it.

  “So what do you do?” he wondered aloud. “Answer an ad?”

  “More or less. Usually it goes to tender. Best offer gets it. But in this case…” Dez trailed off, scratching his temple again.

  “Whatever it is…” Noah said. “Just spit it out.”

  “The client said he had his own guys on this, too, but wanted some insurance. Offered a thousand-dollar bonus and called it a contest.”

  “Classy.”

  The other man lifted his shoulders. “Gotta pay the bills. A grand is a grand is a grand.”

  Noah felt his lip curl in distaste, and he forced himself to push past it. “Tell me about the info you were given.”

  “Name. Description. Approximate location. Once I got close, I got pinged some GPS coordinates, which is how I found you.” Dez paused, eyed Elle, then added, “And all of that came with a warning.”

  “What kind of warning?”

  “That she killed the last guy who tried to bring her in.”

  The statement gave Noah a start that he couldn’t quite cover. His head swiveled in Elle’s direction, seeking an explanation. She met his eyes. Her gaze was controlled, her face pale.

  “No one has tried to bring me anywhere,” she told him.

  He couldn’t help but note that response was just vague enough to not be a real answer to his unasked question. He pretended like it had been anyway.

  “There you have it, Dez,” he said. “No one tried to take her in.”

  “Whatever you say, man. Anything else you wanna know?”

  “Just a couple more things.”

  “Hit me.”

  “Any idea how many people picked up the job?” Noah asked.

  The inked-up man shook his head. “No way of finding out. All done electronically. Those messages that disappear after a few seconds. So you could have ten guys headed this way, or you could just have me and your buddy in the car.”

  “Speaking of which…know anything about him?”

  “Nothing except that he’s a high roller in a crappy car. Assumed he was the client’s personal guy. Had a sweet cell phone and some fancier-than-average gadgets. Nice work with the cat, by the way.”

  Noah shot him an even look. “You spying on me, now, Dez?”

  His acquaintance let out a chortle. “I knew I was right. I was hanging around back, biding my time, and I saw it all go down.”

  Noah raised an eyebrow, and Dez coughed.

  “Sorry, man,” said the other bounty hunter. “But again…”

  “Bills. I heard you.”

  “Anyway, I saw the cat stuff happen. Was completely clueless until the GPS coordinates changed. Then I figured it out. Saw you take off, too, with the old man in the sweater. Placed my bets on finding the target—er…your client—in the room.”

  “Glad that worked out for you,” Noah replied with more than a hint of sarcasm.

  “Easy, man. I didn’t have all the info,” Dez protested.

  “That’s what you get for not asking questions.”

  “Not all of us can afford to live by your code or whatever, Loblaw.”

  Noah sighed. “Forget it. I’ll transfer you your cash within twelve hours.”

  “I know you’re good for it.”

  “I’d say thank you, but you kidnapped my client, so…”

  The other man gave him a little salute and pushed away from the tree, then took off up the road far faster than his size should’ve allowed. As Dez slipped out of sight, Noah turned to tell Elle they should hurry back, but when he spun, he found her staring at him with an incredulous look on her face.

  * * *

  For a good ten seconds, Elle was speechless. And not only that…she was also hearing-less. She could see Noah’s mouth moving. His urgency was clear on his face. But she had no clue what he was saying. It was like she’d been sucked in a vacuum. She stared at him, unblinking. The frightening minutes of being pulled forcibly through the streets were already a blur, fading to unimportance. So was the exchange between her captor and the man who she was relying on to help her. What was sticking out was what the two hadn’t said. The question that hadn’t been asked. And it was making her head spin while also rendering her immobile at the same time. Then—finally—when concern replaced Noah’s harried expression, and his hand came out to touch her forearm, Elle’s mouth at last jolted to life.

  “Katie!” she gasped.

  And her hearing resurfaced, too.

  “We’re going to get her,” Noah assured her. “But first, we need to go back to my place.”

  “But you let him leave!”

  “He didn’t have any info about your little girl. Trust me on that.”

  “How do you know?” she demanded. “You didn’t even mention her.”

  He ran a hand over his too-long hair, his face full of frustration. And for a second, Elle was sure he was just going to grab her and pull her along like the big man—Dez—had done. Instead, he muttered something, then lifted his free hand and placed it on her other forearm.

  “Listen to me,” he said, his voice low and intense. “If I’d thought there were any chance that he knew something about where Katie was, I wouldn’t have let him walk away. In fact, I would’ve led with questions about her and physically restrained him if he tried to leave. But I’m a hundred percent sure he didn’t have a clue. And I need you to give me a bit of trust, because we’re running into a borrowed time situation now.”

  She stared up at him, measuring the sincerity in his hazel gaze. She wondered if he’d still expect her to say yes if he knew the whole truth. And even more than that, she wondered why she felt like telling him. It wasn’t like she was more than a client. Or even like she knew enough about him to say he’d understand or sympathize. And that kind of closeness would take years, Elle was sure. In fact, she’d never imagined herself telling anyone. Even when she imagined the future, she couldn’t wrap her head around the idea of explaining it properly to Katie. Yet it was still on the tip of her tongue to blurt it out to Noah.

  “Please,” he added, the word at odds with his rough looks and gruff voice.

  He released her arms and held out his palm. And Elle couldn’t help but note how it sharply contrasted with the way he’d grabbed her hand just a short while ago when they’d made the rush to his motel. Then, it had been an insistent demand. Now, it was a request. An offer. And she wanted to take it.

  Without even realizing that she was doing it, she nodded and slid her hand into his. Warmth permeated her skin. But as quickly as she looked down in surprise, Noah gave her the slightest tug, and they were on the move.

  For some reason, Elle expected silence on their trek back. Instead, as Noah carefully scanned the street and kept them going, he also filled the air with his rumbling voice. And what he talked about was Dez. About meeting the man ten years earlier during a job, and everything that followed.

  At the time, Dez hadn’t been a bounty hunter. He’d been a thug. Selling the odd bit of drugs. Ripping off convenience stores and doing something described as “collections for less-than-reputable organizations”—a euphemism that Elle took to mean retrieving cash for gangs. But before all that, he’d been a father. A husband. When an accident took his wife and left his daughter in a coma—which eventually pulled her from the world as well—Dez had been left devastated, unemploye
d and deeply in debt. So he’d slid into a rapidly self-destructive pattern.

  But by the end of Noah and Dez’s short meeting, Dez was on a new path. Not a perfect one. But certainly one that was better than the violent law-breaking one he’d had before.

  The story was heartbreaking. And in spite of the fact that the man in question had taken her at gunpoint, Elle felt more than a little sympathy for him. She understood loss. She understood grief. She’d spent six years fearing that she’d turn around and find that Katie wasn’t there. That Trey would catch up and rip away the life they’d created. Now he was halfway to being successful at doing so. And if Elle was being honest, the only thing that was keeping her from falling into her own pit of despair was the pace at which things had been happening since the park. From Noah showing up and warning her that she was being watched to this very moment, she hadn’t had more than a short time to dwell. Even for the ten or so minutes she’d been alone in the motel room, her mind had been occupied. But what if it hadn’t been? What if she’d been alone to deal with it? Would she have persevered, for Katie’s sake? Or would she have slid over the edge? Would she eventually become like Dez?

  “Hey,” said Noah. “I didn’t tell you that story to make you sadder than you already were. I just wanted you to know the reason I was so sure he would’ve mentioned it if he knew anything about your daughter.”

  They’d reached the motel again, and they paused just a few feet from the gate.

  “I’m not sadder,” Elle said.

  “No? Looks that way to me.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Noah lifted their still-clasped hands to her cheek, and when his knuckles brushed her face, she realized she was crying. Embarrassed, she tried to pull back so she could wipe away the rest of her free-fallen tears. But he didn’t let her. His grip tightened, and instead of easing back, she actually fell forward a bit. Her chest met his torso, her head tipped up and her breath caught. Those hazel eyes of his were locked on her mouth. And the need to kiss him came back with a vengeance, even harder to resist this time. Especially when a little voice in her head piped up with what could only be called a terribly valid question.

 

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