by Blue Saffire
“Their money gives them power that no man should have a right to. They also grant me the access to hide in plain sight. This is the nucleus of information in this room. If you want to know anything about the rich and famous, these men and women will reveal it.
“My team provides them with a service. We find them houses, secret getaways, luxury to put up a front if necessary. In return, they all want to be Havana’s friend, sharing their deepest secrets with me.
“I’ve never sold a single house. That’s what Aisha, my assistant does. But everyone in this room wants to be a part of something great and Augustine sold them an illusion. He and I were the best of the best, even if we’d never shown a single property face to face.
“You think I’m shady, but I’m the cleanest one in this room. If they knew the truth, it would put me and everyone I care about in danger. The pawns would revolt. Do you understand now?”
She eyes me searchingly. Again she has placed trust in me. I have gathered enough information in my time with her to pull the pins that hold her life together. If I go through with this and she comes into her inheritance, I could ruin her and make off with it all.
“Dallas, you’re not that crazy and you’re not stupid. Crossing me would end very badly for you. I tell you things because I trust you, but I’d kill you if this one time in my life I happened to misjudge a person,” she says as if reading my thoughts, before turning to sashay away.
I watch as her hips sway. She’s one dangerous woman. In mind and body. I still think these people are innocent next to her. She’d just burn them all down in one of these parties if they turned on her.
Chapter 6
Trouble
Havana
I haven’t been able to sleep. While Dallas did amazing the other night at the gala, we still have a problem brewing. I’m almost out of time.
I should never have taken the job. If I don’t settle Dallas’s debt or prove that he’s no longer breathing, I’m next. I don’t even have the protection of the circle, thanks to my dear old dad. They’ll come after me too for taking an outside job to begin with.
Dallas needs to make a decision. There’s no more time or money. The last two properties Aisha moved into escrow funded me paying the boys. I claimed it was money owed from past jobs.
I can’t keep lying to my brothers. They’re suspicious as it is. I can see it in their eyes. They don’t like Dallas. They don’t understand what I want with him and that’s making them all twitchy, especially Will.
Will and I have been a part of the family the longest. Augustine brought him home not too long after he found me. He’s the most protective of me.
I can’t have them asking questions. They’re a bunch of hot heads. If I told them we stand to lose everything, it’s no telling what they’d all get themselves into.
What I haven’t told Dallas is that my inheritance isn’t the only one on the line. Every dime we’ve ever earned as individual hitters has always been looked after and held in accounts by Augustine.
All of that now hangs in the balance. He froze my access to those accounts, keeping me from being able to continue to pay out allowances. For years, we never questioned him controlling our accounts and giving us an allowance to live by. He never limited what we wanted to spend if we asked for more than the monthly stipend, therefore we’d never questioned him.
The ten of us trusted his loyalty without question when we never should have. He shitted on us. Leaving three of us on the short end of the equation and placing my back against the wall. I don’t understand it.
Augustine only left seven of us all of his money to split. The other three will only walk away with what they earned. If, and only if, I follow through with his demands from the grave. We all blindly trusted him and it’s biting me in my behind.
I always knew there were seven of us that Augustine truly favored as his children. I just didn’t expect him to leave the others out the way he has. It’s just one of the reasons I haven’t told the others what’s going on.
This will hurt some feelings, but if I don’t play by the rules we all lose everything. I’m under enough pressure without telling the boys. I don’t need them breathing down my neck to just pick someone to get married so we’re not all in the poor house.
“Stop shaking,” Dallas’s husky voice fills the room as his warm palm settles on my thigh.
I hadn’t noticed I’d been swaying my bent leg back and forth as I stared up at the ceiling. It’s an old nervous habit. The motion calms me down.
However, now that my leg has stopped, tension coils within my body and it has nothing to do with my thoughts. Dallas’s warm, rough hand sends currents rocking through my body. My core begins to come to life from the simple touch.
I’ve surprisingly gotten used to having him in my bed. The first three nights I kept him hand cuffed. After that I started to lock the bedroom door against the outside and I placed a sensor on the inside to alert me if my guest tried to leave.
His hand starts to slide higher up my thigh and my breath catches. The trail of fire he’s leaving on my skin has my nipples tightening. It’s been awhile, but I’m sure even if it hadn’t been, Dallas’s caress would cause me to toss out all caution and good sense.
His hand gets all the way up to my inner thigh before I realize the shift in density of its weight. It’s not a gentle caress any longer. His hand has become pure dead weight. Next comes the sound of his snores.
“Really?” I huff.
I fold my arms over my chest and pout. Now I’m horny and frustrated. I have too much on my mind and his hand now at the apex of my thighs has me throbbing in places I’ve been just fine ignoring.
Seconds tick by, as I wait to see if he’s just pulling my leg. It’s only wishful thinking. The man is knocked out. I start to debate whether or not to put the fire out on my own.
What the hell. It’ll let off some of this stress.
I reach down, slipping my hand into my silk pajama shorts. I’m no stranger to making this happen for myself. Starting a slow circular motion around my nub, I get my juices to really flow. As my fingertips become moist, I reach with my free hand to pinch my nipple.
The heat of his hand resting on me heightens the sparks that shoot through me. I slip my fingers into my wetness and start to pump. I bite my lip to keep from moaning aloud. My head sinks back into the pillow.
This is just what I needed. It’s been much too long since I gave this part of my body attention. I close my eyes as my breathing becomes labored. My hips begin to rock, causing his fingers to flex against me.
My eyes flash open and I still. I find one blue eye, one hazel staring back at me. It’s clear that he’s awake now. His nostrils flare as lust fills his gaze. He licks his lips, his eyes dropping to the hand I still have shoved into my shorts.
“Need some help,” he rasps, his voice thick with lust.
I open my mouth to say yes, but something catches my attention. Lightning fast, I reach for my gun beneath the pillow. My wet core is forgotten as I aim and shoot pass Dallas’s head.
His eyes go wide. I push him aside and fire a few more rounds into the darkness. The distinct sound of bodies dropping can be heard. I hop from the bed moving to clear the room before turning on the lights.
There are three bodies lying in my bedroom. I suck my teeth and stomp my foot. They’re totally going to mess up my carpet. The white fibers are already starting to soak up the blood.
“How—how the hell did they get in here? I watched you lock the door and set the sensor,” Dallas says in confusion as he stares down at the bodies.
“Do you know them?” I stoop down by the one nearest my feet.
He looks familiar, even with a bullet in his forehead. When I look to my right at one of the others, I know exactly where I know the first one from. They were the ones that brought me the request for the job on Dallas.
“Nicky, Harp, and Mick, they’re Skulls guys,” he replies as he moves to stand over me. “Are you okay?�
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“Yeah, but this shit is ruining my carpet,” I huff.
I run a hand over my scarfed head. This has just turned into a mess. Skull isn’t just going to go away. I have questions.
“How did they get in?” he repeats.
They were here all along. They had to have come in while we were out. I stand and turn to look over at my bathroom. Both walk-ins are big enough to hide in and not be found. As Dallas doesn’t have much use for the closet they were surely able to stow away inside that one.
All they had to do was wait and then creep through the bathroom into the bedroom. They weren’t on the other side of the locked door. Now, my question is, why did Skull send them?
I still have time on my contract. Also, how did they know so much about my set up? Something smells fishy. My internal radar is going off.
“Talk to me, Anita. Who other than your goons that brought me here know about me or that I’m here?” his words burst through my thoughts. “Could anyone at that party have told Skull they saw me with you?”
“No. Our world isn’t the type of shit they want a view into. Augustine handled things for them when they needed on a don’t ask, don’t tell policy. They didn’t know how he did it or if he was the one to do it. No blood on the sheets, no crime to trace back to their door steps.”
“Someone had to tell Skull something. Why would they come here?” Dallas tugs at his hair.
“Don’t you think I know this,” I hiss in frustration.
“Who knows I’ve been here with you?”
“Aisha,” I reply.
“Is that it?”
“My brothers,” I answer trying to catch up to my nagging thoughts.
“The three assholes that brought me here?”
“Yes, no,” I shake my head trying to think. “I have five others. It’s possible they know.”
“Could one of them hav—,”
“Enough,” I snap. I can’t think with him talking.
My first instinct is to get the hell out of here. He’s right. Someone has been talking and we’re not safe here. I also get the feeling something more is going on, but we can’t stay here to find out what.
“Get dressed. Take only what you need that can fit on your person,” I command and head for my closet to get dressed.
Augustine’s voice plays loudly in my head, creating a stone of dread in the pit of my stomach. He’d always said I was too trusting as a child. It was the one thing he felt was a flaw when it came to me becoming the perfect assassin.
‘Trust no one, Havana. As an assassin you will never be able to trust a soul. Even those closest to you are a threat because they can only be trusted as far as the value of their own trust,’ he had said. ‘Do you really want to place your life in the hands of someone else’s trust?’
I don’t think I ever fully understood his words, but something tells me that I’m about to learn their meaning first hand. Only nine other living people know how to get into my home. There’s no way those three were able to get in here undetected without help.
When I find out who helped them, I’m going to kill them. I close my eyes and drop my head. Where am I going to go? I’m out of money and even if somehow I talked Dallas into helping me, I can’t kill anyone for a year.
I’m so fucked. I place my palms to the shelves in front of me. I stiffen when arms circle my waist. I know it’s Dallas, I’ve learned his scent.
“It seems we’re in this together now. I’ll do it. We can’t run without money. So I’ll do it. Something ain’t right around here, kitten. I may not be the brightest bulb in the shed, but I know a coup when I see one,” he says in my ear.
I turn around in his arms and look up at him sharply.
“Stop saying things like that. You’re not stupid. If we’re going to do this…. Just know I chose you for a reason. You’re smart and you know how to adapt,” I force out.
He studies me with those eyes, unnerving me as usual. Not ready for him to see my thoughts, I knock his hands away. I step around him to continue to get ready.
I already have on a pair of leather pants and a black t-shirt. I shove my feet into a pair of black ankle boots and snatch a leather jacket. I move quickly out of the closet to exit the bedroom.
I need to get to my office. Once there, I grab my backpack and make my way into my saferoom. I toss a few passports, guns, and the last five grand I put aside in case something like this happened. It’s not much and won’t get us far, but it’s what I have.
Movement on the monitors in my safe room catches my attention. I narrow my eyes on the screen. I don’t know what to make of the sight of all my brothers making their way to my front door.
What are they doing here?
They seem to be arguing, but I don’t have time to sit and analyze this. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I’m going to go with my gut and my gut is telling me to take Dallas and get the fuck out of here.
“Let’s go,” I bark and head out the office French doors that lead outside to the backyard.
We creep around to the garage. Dallas rushes for the car, but I reach for his arm and shake my head. I nod towards my bike.
“We’ll cover more ground on it,” I whisper.
He twists his lips, looking as if he wants to protest, but he nods. I go to hop on, only to have his arm snake around my waist. I look up at him curiously.
“I’ll drive,” he murmurs. “Don’t argue. We don’t have time.”
I grind my teeth, but I do as he says. As he straddles the bike, I run to punch the button for the garage door, cursing it’s loud sound as it opens. I rush back over, jumping on behind him, wrapping my arms around his waist. Dallas walks the bike out of the garage with me clinging to him and the engine still off.
“Hey, Havana,” I hear called in the not too far distance.
“Let’s go,” I growl.
The bike comes to life beneath us and Dallas guns us down the driveway and out of the gate. I look behind us to see Will running after us. My heart squeezes in my chest. They were my family, my brothers. I can’t wrap my head around them wanting me dead.
Chapter 7
I’ll do it
Dallas
She’s exhausted. I can see it in her face. We only stopped for gas, but we’ll need to get a room somewhere soon or she’s likely to slide right off the back of the bike.
I need to recharge myself. The adrenaline is starting to wear off and my brain is running in so many directions.
“Kitten, we need to find some place to rest up,” I say as I watch her lids droop.
“No, we have to keep moving. I’ll drive if you’re tired,” she shakes her head, a frown on her pretty face.
“You ain’t driving me no place like that,” I point at her sleepy eyes. “You need some sleep.”
“No.”
“Listen—”
“No, you listen. I’m one of ten of the best trained assassins out there. There’s a chance that the other ten are now after my life. If they’re trying to find me, we need to keep moving,” she barks.
I clamp my mouth shut, my own temper threatening to boil over. The thought of those cowards coming for her life leaves a real bad taste in my mouth. I watch her, but I don’t say another word as I finish pumping the gas.
“We have to keep moving until I can figure out where we can get some more money. I need resources and some place safe to think,” she mumbles to herself.
“Wait a minute,” I grunt. “You said we’d have access to fifteen million once we marry.”
“We’re not married. I can’t get my hands on that money until I have a husband,” she groans, reaching to rub her temples.
I replace the nozzle into the pump and twist the cap back onto the bike. I move to lift her chin, catching her tired eyes. She looks back at me warily.
“I said I’ll do it. I meant it. Let’s get married and get us some money,” I smile at her.
I see the hesitation in her eyes. I pull my hand back from her face.
I should have known she’d come to her senses sooner or later. No matter how much she’s cleaned me up, I’m still me.
“Once we’re married, I can’t kill anybody for a year,” she pouts.
I stare at her. I mean really stare at her. I can see that her words are the honest point of her reluctance. Here I am thinking she’s having second thoughts about me and lo and behold she’s thinking about not killing anyone for a year.
“Then, I guess we better disappear once we get that money so you don’t have to,” I give her a lopsided grin.
Chapter 8
The Wedding
Havana
“What am I doing,” I huff to myself.
I’ve never been that girl. You know, the type to daydream about her wedding, picking bridesmaids, color schemes, and wishing for the perfect groom. I never thought I’d see the day when I’d walk down the aisle.
This feels so odd. My heart is pounding as I move towards Dallas, the man I’m about to marry. It was his idea to do it this way, since we have to send proof to Augustine’s lawyers. Not just a certificate, but photos and/or video.
We took the little money I had and purchased two tickets to St. Croix. The beautiful water and skies will provide a picture perfect wedding. We had just enough to pay for my simple white sundress, Dallas’s white linen suit, gold bands, the license, a photographer, and a room for the next two nights.
We won’t be able to stay here long. We had to marry under our legal names, which will leave a paper trail. As soon as that money hits my offshore account, we’re going to have to relocate and make Havana and Dallas Echoes disappear.
Dallas talked a local kid into recording with my phone for a few bucks. The feed is live. It’s streaming directly to the lawyer on facetime. I’m hoping that will get his ass in gear to release that money.
“You look beautiful,” Dallas murmurs when I stop before him.