He shook his head and scoffed.
“You’re acting like a lunatic,” he snorted. “This is a contract, a job. If you can’t be professional, I suggest you go back California and wait for me.”
Suddenly her face lost all its plaintiveness.
“So you can take your share of the money and run?” she spat viciously. “No thank you. I am owed half of that hundred grand.”
Sol swallowed a smile and turned his head.
You can have the entire hundred grand, he thought. I’ll bury you with it in a pine box.
“Fine,” he relented begrudgingly. “But I expect you to behave normally from now on. No more talk about visits from Van Hoyt.”
Catriona’s mouth fell into a pout but she flopped back onto the double bed and picked up the remote control, flipping through the late-night channels.
“Fine,” she said. “But know I’m going to say, ‘I told you so’ when this all over and done with.”
Solis eyed her, a smidgen of doubt still taunting his mind.
I’ll call him…after she falls asleep.
Chapter Nine
Creteil, France
The next day, she paced around the safehouse, expecting “Jean” to burst through any second.
He can’t find you here, she lied to herself, glancing at her naked ankle.
It had taken two hours but she had finally managed to rid herself of the monitor secured to her leg by using a laser she had recently acquired. She was the new owner of a couple of burn scars, but she had taken great pleasure in throwing the monitor in the Seine before making her way to the house in Creteil.
She had known that one day the tiny shack would come in handy, although how she had managed to keep it from Khan remained a miracle.
If he knew about this place, he would kill me, she thought, looking around the one roomed structure.
She had only managed to rent it a year earlier and only after years of saving her pennies from deals with Khan.
But now crunch time had come and either she was going to be a free woman with her sister, or a dead woman floating in the river.
She glanced at her watch and gritted her teeth.
It was only three o’clock. She still had three more hours before meeting Khan on the boat.
Unfortunately, there was nothing to do but bide her time. There was no television or internet to occupy her. Not even a book sat handy as she had only visited the sparsely decorated shack a handful of times over the past year, mostly to ensure it was still standing.
All she could do was stare at her cell phone which she had turned off, fearing tracking and let her imagination run wild.
Did I kill him? She wondered. Did I intend to kill him?
The answer was firm no.
Ashtyn was not a killer, even though she knew her actions under Khan Cerci’s rule had led to countless deaths.
But what choice did she have?
Mine and Viola’s lives against everyone else. If I had to do it all over again to save my sister, I would, hands down.
She could still remember the day she had tracked down the violent pimp and drug lord, sneaking into his gated estate undetected and armed with a gun.
I should have killed him when I had the chance.
Impressed by her cunning, he had made her a deal; if she did a single run for him, Viola would be set free. If she killed him, her entire family would spend their lives looking over their shoulders.
And of course, she would never have made it out of the estate alive either.
Khan had seen something in her that day, her defiant, furious face showing a bravery or a stupidity which he knew was marketable.
He had been right.
What did Ashtyn know back then? Her need to save her sister had overridden any common sense. She knew nothing about the ways of the Turkish drug cartel.
I knew nothing about anything except saving my own ass.
It hadn’t taken Khan long to learn that she was a force to be reckoned with, a master of quick thinking and double cross but never to him, of course.
He had her well secured, despite allowing her to come and go as she wished.
Over time, Khan had loosened the reigns on her, if only just slightly.
Ashtyn was sure that he did not trust her but he gained confidence in the fact that as long as Viola was alive, Ashtyn would continue to do his bidding.
So many times she had been tempted to end it all, kill Khan and let the cards lay where they would but the love she had for Viola had overpowered any fatalistic thoughts.
And Ashtyn was not a killer.
She hoped.
Gritting her teeth, she turned away and peered out the window cautiously, her nerves taut.
Logically, she knew that the chances of Khan making good on his promise to release her sister was almost nil but this time she was not going to back down.
I didn’t really give myself a chance to accept no for an answer. I just took out one of his men. How long will it be before he realizes it?
Her body was still sore from her tryst with Jean on the train.
The sex had only been a ploy to disarm him, but she could not deny that she had thoroughly enjoyed their encounter.
A wave of guilt and heat washed through her as her mind travelled back to the train. The combination of his pulsating thrusts and the whizzing scenery on the secluded platform had made the experience intoxicating.
And now I’ve killed him.
She pushed the thought out of her mind, goosebumps prickling her arms.
Ashtyn couldn’t afford to waste her time pining over a man she didn’t know, a man who had likely been sent to do her harm.
Yet she couldn’t stop feeling him inside her, she thought wistfully.
__________
Twilight was magical on the Seine but like all other beauty in the world, Ashtyn had ceased to see it years ago.
Nothing about Paris was beautiful, not anymore.
How can I ever again look at this city without loathing and fear? She wondered. In the back of her mind, she could still picture her hometown of New Orleans, but the images were getting further and more fleeting as if they had never existed anywhere outside her imagination.
I am going to die here, Ashtyn thought mournfully.
She crept toward the Yacht Club de France, her white-blonde hair tucked inside a black hoodie as she ventured cautiously toward the sixty-nine-foot boat.
The usual guards manned the deck but Ashtyn was a master of elusiveness if nothing else, and stealing aboard was almost child’s play. She had done it many times without Khan’s knowledge in an almost childish act of defiance, just to say she could.
Dusk was settling, granting Ashtyn the cloak of darkness, but she still waited in the shadows until she saw Khan appear on the lower deck, a crystal tumbler in hand as Jacques followed him like a lap dog.
“Where is she?” Khan growled, glancing at his Rolex in annoyance. “She is ten minutes late.”
His oily body glistened and Ashtyn was repulsed by the idea of spending a night with him. But if it meant freedom for Viola, she would spend a week with the vile boar.
“I can track her monitor,” Jacques offered, an expression of glee on his face, but Khan shook his greasy head.
“No,” he replied. “She will be here if she knows what is good for her.”
Jacques nodded vehemently.
“She will. She’s probably getting extra pretty for tonight,” Jacques chortled and Khan joined in the laughter.
They don’t realize I’ve removed my monitor, Ashtyn thought, relief and hope flooding her heart. She had been betting on the feeling that Khan had loosened his grip on her leash and wouldn’t realize she had removed the tracking device until after she had her sister. Which hopefully would be in about an hour, if she was lucky. Then they would run. As fast and as far as they could. She had brought a little insurance, just in case she needed to incapacitate either Khan or Jacques.
She had no way of knowing
if Viola was on board, but she wanted to ensure that her sister was there before showing her face.
“Boss, I still don’t understand why you keep her,” Jacques said suddenly. “She is no better than – “
“I swear to Allah, Jacques, if you question me one more time, I will send you to one of the houses to work – as a whore. I do not need to explain how valuable that bitch has become to our business in the past years. She also knows too much to dispose of.”
“She is becoming a hinderance,” the Frenchman insisted. “You must admit that she is becoming more desperate as the years pass. Unstable women can be very dangerous to our business. “
“I admit nothing!” Khan roared and Jacques flinched visibly. “Go, track her whereabouts. Do something useful and get out of my face before you ruin my good mood.”
Ashtyn knew she had to make her presence known before they learned she had no such tracking device.
“Here I am,” Ashtyn announced, shooting Jacques a scathing look. “No need to panic.”
Both men seemed taken aback by her appearance but Khan’s black eyes brightened visibly while Jacques looked furious.
“Ya amar!” Khan purred approaching to give her a customary butt grab and sloppy kiss. “We were just talking about you. Where is my shipment?”
“Where is my sister?” she replied evenly, stepping fully onto the deck.
The question seemed to surprise and anger Khan simultaneously and he drew toward her, his face twisted into a sneer.
“Perhaps Jacques is right about you,” he said, reaching out to slap her face playfully with his meaty hand. “You are becoming quite the little sassy bitch, aren’t you?”
As always, the palm left an imprint on her fair cheek.
“Then you should kill me,” she said easily, stepping back, casually slipping her hand into the pocket of her hoodie.
“I wouldn’t do that,” Khan replied, grinning lecherously. “At least not yet. We have a deal, or have you forgotten?”
Ashtyn had not forgotten although she had secretly hoped the addicted drug lord had.
You probably can’t even get it up, she thought snidely but of course she said no such thing.
“Where is Viola?” she asked again. “Is she on the boat?”
“I will tell you where to find your sister after you give me what I want,” he replied, closing the short distance between them, his arm twisting around the back of her neck. Ashtyn was forced to fall forward and Khan’s wet, soggy lips pinned hers.
She could not supress the shudder of repulsion from spasming through her body as she tried to free herself from his vice-like hold.
“No,” she gasped, wriggling but the action was futile. “Not until I see my sister. That was our deal. I was clear!”
“You stupid girl,” Khan spat. “You are not in any position to make demands.”
He tried to kiss her again but Ashtyn struggled with surprising strength.
“I think I am,” she retorted, finally managing to wrench herself away. “I have your shipment or have you forgotten?”
His eyes widened and his jaw parted before he could catch himself but before Ashtyn could duck away to safety, her arms were pinioned behind her as Jacques confined her.
The syringe she had been holding clattered to the deck and both men glanced at it in unison.
Ashtyn felt faint.
“What is that?” Khan asked, leaning down to pick up the discarded object. “Is this…?”
His face registered shock as he recognized the hotshot she had concocted in the safehouse.
“Were you going to use this on me?”
Ashtyn reaction was to shake her head but beyond her fear was the image of her sister somewhere on the boat.
“Where is Viola?” she asked, her voice cracking as he stepped toward her, the needle poised for her throat.
“Where is my shipment?” he asked, his tone barely above a strangled whisper but Ashtyn did not respond, holding his gaze steadily.
“Where is my sister?” she snapped back. Jacques twisted her arms mercilessly behind her back and she fought the urge to yelp.
I will never give this man the satisfaction of seeing me cry, she thought firmly, grinding her teeth together. I’m going to die but I will not bow down.
“You stupid bitch!” Khan growled, grabbing her by the throat. “Your sister is dead, and you, my traitorous little cunt, are going to meet a fate much worse than death.”
Again, he crushed his lips to hers, taking Ashtyn’s breath away. NO! That couldn’t be, her mind screeched. No! I won’t believe him! I – just, can’t! she cried inside as her heart broke in two. My poor Viola, I’m so sorry!
“You will tell me where to find my shipment,” he hissed, hands reaching up to fondle her breasts. Jacques’ breath grew heavier in her ear as he wedged himself lewdly between her butt cheeks. “Or I will make sure you never see the light of day, and your legs are never allowed to close again,” he growled maliciously.
Oh my God. I totally messed this up! I didn’t plan this properly.
Now was the time for terror, and Ashtyn fought against the men as she became sandwiched between them.
“You will be a good addition to the Paris houses,” Khan rasped, his tongue jutting out to lick her cheek and Ashtyn stifled a squeal as his hand closed off the airway on her throat. “That is what I should have used you for in the first place. Ungrateful whore!”
Red and black spots played before her eyes.
No! She screamed. You can’t black out, Ashtyn. Stay alive. Stay alert!
But she was losing the battle as her shirt was ripped from her body, exposing her breasts.
Her body was growing heavy as Jacque released her into Khan’s lethal chokehold, as his slobbering mouth explored her body.
I’m sorry, Viola! She sobbed silently. I am so sorry!
As the world went dark, the only comfort she took was knowing that she would see her sister again on the other side.
Chapter Ten
Paris, France
There was a fly beeping in his ear but swatting it away did not help in the slightest.
Flies don’t beep, he thought, and suddenly, Xander realized where he was. The struggle to open his eyes was real, but slowly he managed to pry his swollen lids apart. For the next couple of hours, he drifted in and out of consciousness, his anger growing each time he came to.
That bitch, he thought furiously, but at least he had survived the dose. It made him believe that perhaps she hadn’t been trying to end his life after all, but that was little consolation in that moment.
Laboriously, he finally sat up in the bed, the monitors beeping around his head.
“Oh! You’re awake!” a nearby nurse gasped, but Xander was already removing the IV bag from his arm, his mind whirling.
I have to find her. First, I’m going to fuck her brains out. Then I’m going to kill her. Probably. He sneered at his own weakness. Probably?!
“Monsieur! You can’t go anywhere!” the nurse protested when she realized what he was doing. “You’ve been through an ordeal and – “
Xander wasn’t listening to her, his hands ripping off the gown hastily as his sea colored eyes rested on the chair.
“Sir! Please! Let me call for a doctor! You need to be examined by psych before you can be released! It is customary in the case of overdoses – “
He snatched his clothes off the chair and stuffed his feet into his jeans and then his boots. He moved down the hall as quickly as his body would carry him, slipping his lean, muscular form into his shirt as he bolted down the staircase. The bouts of dizziness threatened to keep him down, but he forced himself to power through the sickness he was feeling.
He fought his way through the seemingly endless corridors until he was sure that he was no longer being chased but he knew that security would be searching for him.
He ducked into a bathroom to finish dressing before eyeing himself in the mirror.
Never had he looked so p
ale and again he cursed the seductive blonde on the train.
When I get my hands on her… he thought direly.
But first he had to find her.
Khan Cerci.
Brushing aside the nausea, he made his way out of the Hospital Hotel-Dieu and onto the Place du Parvis de Notre Dame.
She thought I was working for Khan Cerci, Xander thought, recalling the last words Ashtyn had said before he had fallen unconscious. But why would she think that? She works for him…doesn’t she?
He had learned that in his investigation, but word on the street could not always be taken as gospel.
And his limited knowledge of the girl was that she worked for the highest bidder.
Whatever the reason, his best lead on the blonde was Khan Cerci. She had undoubtedly gone underground, hiding from whomever she thought was following her.
But if he could get to Cerci, he might learn why Ashtyn thought he was the one searching for her.
Perhaps that was who he was working for too and he just didn’t know it. The entire contract was becoming a bigger headache than he had anticipated; literally.
It was a long shot but it was the only one he had.
God knows how much time I’ve lost laying in that bed, he thought furiously, his hands reaching into his pockets to ensure his phone and money were intact.
They were by some miracle.
Of course not everyone in the world is a cutthroat or thief, he told himself, almost amused that he worried he had been robbed in his comatose state.
He made his way slowly to La Rue de la Cite and fell into an alleyway on the busy street, picking up his phone.
His mind was still foggy as he pressed the recall button to dial Marius’ number.
Suddenly he was seized by the urge to vomit and he spun, spitting violently into a pile of trash, his guts churning as he retched.
When he finally expelled all the last of his stomach contents, he slumped back against the brick wall, willing himself to move, but the task seemed insurmountable.
As he waited for the disorientation to subside, he closed his eyes, once more fuming at the woman who had put him in this situation. Just before he blacked out, his body forcing him to stop for a time until it could recover some more he realized his feelings for the girl were confusing indeed.
HARD WIRED: He's an assassin, she's his target... (HARD Series Book 3) Page 7