Secrets Unsealed: A Triggerman Inc. Story

by Marie Harte

  “But Hammer—”

  “Can’t know. They bugged the security room too. I managed to disable your office cam. Deacon sent me. He said to tell you that he doesn’t want you turning into Brenda. So we’re going to meet him back at your place. But I’m going to get you there without anyone noticing. Once you guys do whatever Deacon has planned, I’ll stay behind and pretend to be you for a while. A blond wig and turning your lights on and off at your place should do the trick.”

  Vi looked the same as she had before she’d left, only leaner. Long dark hair, deep brown eyes, an athletic figure with enough curves to set men to talking. Hell, Solene had seen the guys give Vi the once-over when she’d first met the woman, after Noel had first been shot a few weeks ago.

  Solene went out and let Darcy and Annie know she’d be sequestered in her office for a while, having to look over the books for a financial review. Once she was back in the room, she silently followed Vi out the back, waiting by the exit door.

  “Why are you here?” Solene asked

  “Big Joe got some intel on Romero Burleigh and Sue Ahn.”

  Through the window of the door, they saw a white Dodge parked some distance down from Solene’s car. A man sat inside, waiting in the driver’s seat.

  Vi swore. “Shit. Look. Put this on.” She handed Solene a ballcap. “Use my car and go back to your place. Deacon will be there soon. I’m going to try to let Hammer know what’s going on without making it obvious. You got problems, chica.”

  Solene grimaced. “Tell me about it.” She put on the hat, tucking her hair under it, then donned a large jacket Vi handed her. “My kids aren’t in danger, are they?” She felt sick at the thought.

  “The bad guy seems to want you, not any kids. So far, at least.” Vi frowned. “We need to get this guy, Solene. I saw what he did to some of those girls in India. Bad stuff. Wherever Burleigh goes, he leaves a trail of broken women in his wake.”

  “We’ll get him.”

  Vi clapped her on the back. “Okay, take these.” She slapped car keys in Solene’s hands. “Red car. Go.” Then she opened the back door before Solene could warn her about the alarm.

  Nothing happened.

  “Alarm was cut.” Vi stated the obvious. “I told you. You’re compromised.”

  Solene nodded. “Wish me luck.”

  “Me too. I have to deal with Hammer.” Vi rolled her eyes.

  Solene grinned then darted outside. She found the red car with no problem and drew no attention to herself in the baseball cap and tan jacket. Then she drove to her house, calling Deacon on the way. He didn’t pick up, and she started to worry.

  But when she pulled into the house, she found him in his room packing a bag.

  “Deacon?”

  “Thank God.” He hugged her. “We got problems, Blondie. A new player who wasn’t supposed to be here.”

  “Vi?”

  “Wait. She’s here too?”

  Too? “What’s going on?”

  Gunshots answered for him.

  Vi didn’t know what to think. But she’d had more respect for Solene before she’d been forced to leave, courtesy of Big Joe’s orders. The old Solene would have asked a million questions, then still went her own way. This woman seemed way too eager to do anything for Deacon.

  Vi shook her head as she walked back to the storage room, snuck in, and got to work. She’d left a mess on the floor. Time to clean up. She shook him, testing to see if she’d used too much of the aerosol.

  Hammer woke disoriented. The drugs did that.

  “Hey there, big guy. How are ya?” She smiled at him, just knowing whatever he tried to say behind the gag wouldn’t be complimentary. “Aw, I missed you too. How are Noel and Addy? Little Dee?”

  Hammer glared.

  “How about Solene and Deacon? Didn’t I call it before I left?”

  He growled.

  “Don’t worry. This will all be over very, very soon.”

  She brushed soft hair out of his eyes, wishing he hadn’t fallen so hard, bruising himself. “Easy. Just relax into it. I don’t want to hurt you.” But she would. She’d waited too long for this. It was time. Angel and the baby needed closure. “Just think of me as an avenging angel,” she said to him, pleased to see the comprehension in his eyes.

  Oh yeah, he knew what that locket had meant. She’d had a feeling. The history they shared, the memories not burned out of him. He knew.

  She stroked his head and plunged the syringe into his neck, jamming through his collar since he’d turned into the jab.

  “Smart guy. Rest, Hamilton. It’ll all be over when you wake.”

  She patted him on the cheek then walked out and locked the door behind her.

  Deacon didn’t know what the hell was going on. The minute he heard shots, he dove for Solene, tackling her to the floor. He felt a pinch along his back, reached and came back with blood on his hands.

  Solene’s eyes widened. “Deacon?”

  “A graze. I’m good.” But he ached. He pushed her to crawl to the closet and opened the door. “Stay here. Take this.” He put a 9mm in her hands. “It’s loaded. Just point and shoot. But not me. I’ll whistle a Looney Tune before I come back.”

  She laughed a little hysterically. Bullets continued to fire into her house, through the window of his bedroom and into the walls above them. “You’re looney for sure.”

  He groaned. “Looney in love.” At her wide-eyed stare, he swore. “Fuck. I meant to tell you later after I convinced you I was taking a permanent vacation with you, here. But in case this doesn’t end up a fairytale, you should know—I love you.” He gave her a quick, hard kiss, gripped her hands around the gun, then moved back. “Now shut the hell up and sit tight. I already called Hammer and Noel.” He pushed a spare cell phone at her. “Keep this just in case. Call 9-1-1 if I’m not back in twenty.” That should be long enough to take them out.

  He shut the closet door and left before he changed his mind. The time had come to take out the trash. He’d been chasing ghosts for too long. Now that he had Burleigh in his grasp, no way in hell would he let the fucker go on to terrorize Solene.

  Low-crawling out of the room, he stopped in the hallway and listened for movement. He’d counted five men before he’d spotted Romero Burleigh walking pretty as you please into Solene’s house. The jackass had plugged in the code and entered without a hitch.

  Had Deacon not installed hidden cameras throughout the house, he might have been taken unaware. But he’d learned after the last break-in, installing the video feeds once they’d returned from Seattle.

  He retrieved his cell from his pocket and opened the app, allowing him to see cam footage live. With sure footing and his favorite knife in hand, a ten-inch steel blade sharp enough to cut through flesh and bone with ease, he snuck up on the man nearest Solene’s hideout and slit his throat, a hand over the man’s mouth to cover the noise. He managed the same with two more intruders, quietly lowering them to the ground in puddles of blood.

  “I know you’re there,” Burleigh drawled from the living room, his upper-crust British accent and polite manner nothing more than a smokescreen. The rapist was no better than a lowborn rat out for whatever he could get at the expense of others. Instant gratification and fuck anyone who told him no.

  Deacon had never liked him. After learning about the way the monster treated women, he’d been dying to enact some justice. But Big Joe had told him no. Deacon had never understood his handler’s reasoning. And he didn’t care now. Burleigh had to go.

  “Come on out and we’ll chat,” Burleigh offered, sounding amused.

  Deacon glanced at the phone, saw one of the remaining intruders edging toward his position, and waited.

  The man must have had eyes on Deacon, somehow, because he came around the corner shooting low and managed to get a bullet through Deacon’s thigh. But better his thigh than his heart. Deacon had jerked in time to roll away from a lethal shot, at least.

  He ignored the pain in his leg, c
ompartmentalizing so he could focus.

  “You.” The bastard who’d blown dust at him on the ferry smiled. “I was hoping it was you and not your dickhead friends.”

  “Like old times.” Deacon smiled through his teeth, then flowed like water, around the man’s grasping hands and through his grip. He remembered his opponent’s moves from their last altercation and was ready for him. Deacon slipped through the man’s first swing and brought his blade up under the guy’s armpit, severing his axillary artery. He watched as the fucker slid to the ground as if in slow motion. Little blood was spilled, most of it draining out inside him.

  He felt dizzy, realized he’d lost a fair amount of blood, and started at the gunshot behind him. He spun, ready to throw his knife, and checked himself before nailing Violet in the throat.

  He blinked. “Vi?” He saw a man behind him topple over, a gun outstretched in his dead hand.

  She put a finger over her lips, nodding toward the living room on the other side of the hallway.

  He nodded, taking the dead man’s gun and tucking it behind his back, a knife in hand, and slowly got to his feet, wavering, unsteady.

  She frowned and mouthed, “Solene?”

  He looked to his room and mouthed back, “Closet.”

  Vi nodded and left him.

  Deacon stepped out from the hallway into the living area, his knife in hand, and concentrated on what he’d set out to do—kill Romero Burleigh.

  The bastard looked as if he’d gone for a stroll in Beverly Hills. He wore a dark suit, red tie, and looked like a million bucks. He twirled a pair of Cartier sunglasses that cost upwards of twenty grand—something Deacon knew because a drug runner on a Laos job had been keen on them—and sat with one ankle over his knee. His dark hair had been cut short, styled, and went with the tan from Burleigh’s time in India.

  “Been a long time, Shadow.” Burleigh smiled. “You’re looking as expected. Worn down, sad…weak.”

  “Well, well. The rapist is back. How was life in India, fuckhead? Should have stayed there.”

  Burleigh’s smile disappeared. He slowly uncrossed his legs and stood, six foot three and still heavily muscled. He removed his jacket and tie and placed them over the couch with care. Then he unbuttoned his shirt sleeves, rolled them up, and toed off his shoes.

  “I’d hoped we could do this civilized. I’ll beat you to death, then take the woman. We’ll go our separate ways. I mean, you’ll be dead, but you’ll die knowing I own Solene Hansen.” Burleigh grinned. “I hear she’s a hot fuck. Is that true? I’ve already got more than a few customers interested. No need to answer. I’ll find out for myself soon enough.”

  Deacon knew not to fall prey to his own anger, but it wasn’t easy. He had the gun at his back, the knife in hand. Burleigh thought he could taunt Deacon into a bare-knuckled brawl to the death? As tempting as that sounded, Deacon didn’t believe in playing fair. And he knew Burleigh didn’t either.

  With his free hand, he withdrew the gun from his back and aimed at Burleigh.

  “What’s this? Cheating, Shadow?” Burleigh looked amused, not worried.

  Shit. Deacon must have missed something. Burleigh’s backup? Some convoluted plan?

  Movement to his right froze him in his tracks.

  “Uh-uh.” Vi yanked Solene by the hair, holding Solene in front of her like a full suit of armor. “Sorry, Deacon. You shoot him, she dies.” She held a gun to Solene’s head, and the stark terror on Solene’s face scared him shitless.

  “Damn it.” He threw down his gun and dropped the knife, knowing he had to think fast. “You’re working for him?”

  “You could say that.”

  Burleigh laughed, his humor a poison that burned. “I learn from my mistakes, Deac.” The chummy reference grated. “Always have a backup plan.” Burleigh walked to Solene, whose hands remained behind her back, obviously secured by the traitor in their midst.

  “You know what he does to women,” he said to Vi. “How can you deal with him?”

  She shrugged. “A job’s a job. And the pay is incredible.” She grinned, holding Solene by the hair, not letting her move as Burleigh openly fondled her while watching Deacon.

  The rage in his woman’s eyes settled him. He had to get her clear before launching at Burleigh. And somehow, they had to get Vi out of the way too.

  “Okay, Romero. I did my part.” Vi shoved Solene at him, and as Solene turned, he swore he saw something metallic in her hands.

  He kept an angry expression on his face, not sure about anything at the moment, but needing it to play out before he made his move.

  “I need the number,” Vi continued. “We made a deal, and I held up my end of the bargain. I took care of Meridia for you. And Big Joe is barely clinging to life as we speak.”

  Deacon froze.

  Burleigh saw his reaction and laughed. “Did you really think this is all about you?” He laughed harder. “Priceless. What a sorry fuck. This is about so much more than you three assholes.” He glanced at Vi and tossed her a phone. “It’s programmed in. Call him. He’ll tell you himself.”

  She nodded. “One more thing.” She looked at Solene, and the disdain on her face shocked him. Deacon had never realized what a good actress she was. “You’re a whore like all the others. It won’t matter what you do or what you say, Romero’s only using you. You’re not one of his angels, and you never could be.”

  Vi deliberately turned to an obviously surprised Romero. She kissed him on the cheek. “I always admired you, but I could never tell you, not with eyes and ears always on me.”

  He rubbed his cheek, clearly enamored. “When you punch in the number, make sure to use the codeword. You know the one.”

  “The fourth?”

  “No, the code.”

  She gave him a huge smile. “Ah. Now I see. Thank you so much.”

  Romero smiled back and dragged Solene closer. Then he blinked in confusion, and Deacon watched a painful expression cross his face.

  Solene darted away, her hands unbound and no longer behind her back. A knife stuck out of Burleigh’s chest. “Fuck you, asshole.” She hurried to Deacon’s side. Vi didn’t raise her gun. She was about to say something when Romero’s backup arrived.

  Violet fired even as she was shot from behind. She dropped the phone, then grabbed it and lunged behind the couch as more shots sank into Solene’s comfortable sofa.

  Deacon was dizzy trying to keep up. No, he was dizzy period.

  “Behind you,” Solene yelled, and he turned to see a dead gunman, shot by Vi’s pistol. “She saved us. I think.” Solene appeared shaken, angry, and worried as she tried to stop his bleeding.

  “You have a half dozen more converging,” Vi said, her voice filled with pain. She scooted back on the floor, then toward the side door leading to Solene’s back deck. “Good luck.”

  She darted outside even as a familiar roar made his head ache. “Traitor.”

  “Hammer?” He blinked and saw Hammer race into the room, gun at the ready as he followed Vi outside. Seconds later he returned and ducked as more bullets fired through the glass. “We have company.”

  They must have been on a boat, because Solene’s backyard was on the Sound.

  Deacon wanted to ask questions, but he grew lightheaded, heard Hammer yelling at Solene to put pressure on his wounds, then swore he saw Hammer and Noel battling more assailants. And the lights went out.

  Eleven

  Two days later, Solene sat next to a hospital bed stroking Deacon’s hair, wondering how her life had changed so much in so little time. Noel’s basement held a medical suite in addition to the firing range and dojo. At least it kept Deacon out of harm’s way while he healed. She brushed his dark hair again, feeling so much for him she didn’t know what to do.

  Nearly two months after watching her best friend fall in love, she’d succumbed to that same pesky emotion with a hitman who had the worst sense of timing ever.

  She looked up as Hammer and Noel entered the room.
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  “How is he?” Noel asked.

  “He woke up a few times to tell me to be careful and not to trust Vi, then he passed out again.”

  Hammer scowled but said nothing.

  Noel sighed. “The nurse said he’s recovering. Mostly blood loss. The bullet lodged in his leg and had to be surgically removed, but he’s on the road to recovery. It nearly nicked a major artery. But nothing a few weeks in bed and a good woman won’t cure.” He smiled at her. “You two were lucky.”

  “I know.” She frowned. “I’m still confused about Vi.”

  “She’s a traitor,” Hammer growled. He’d spent the past two days trying to track her down. He hadn’t found anything, and he’d returned like a wounded bear ready to turn on anyone who approached.

  “I don’t think she is.” Solene had gone over and over what had happened two days ago, as puzzled now as she’d been then. “When she found me in the closet Deacon had shoved me into—with orders to hide,” she growled, still annoyed with how he’d dumped her inside and gone out to face the danger alone, “she didn’t have a lot of time. She told me not to trust what I saw, and she gave me a knife even as she marched me out to Burleigh. It was an act.”

  “Says you. Because those hidden cams Deacon installed cut out just when she appeared. I have no reliable feedback to go off of,” Hammer spat. “Oh yeah, and Vi drugged me when I was protecting you. Twice.” He stalked to the bed, staring down at Deacon with brooding intensity. “You said she made a deal with Burleigh.”

  “I’ve been thinking about it. I think she was a plant, or maybe she was working both sides. She could have killed you, Hammer. She could have hurt me or let Burleigh’s men kill Deacon. But she saved us both. She wanted whatever Burleigh gave her on that phone. She wanted to talk to him, whoever he is. And you said Big Joe is fine. She lied about nearly killing him.”