Nothing To Lose: A Grey Justice Novel

by Christy Reece

  He halted as another car swung into the parking lot and parked right beside the limo. A tall, thickly built man emerged, took a moment to say something to the limo driver and then strode into the building. The limo drove slowly away.

  Shit. Nick took off toward the building, his heart in his throat. This was no ordinary stop…Kennedy was in trouble. Reaching the front door, Nick went inside, thankful no one had locked the door. Just as he entered, the cellphone in his jacket vibrated. A look at the screen showed him it was Kennedy calling.

  Hoping that was a good sign, Nick activated his earbud, was about ask her what the hell was going on, when he heard his worst nightmare already in progress.

  Thankful that Adam hadn’t objected to her bringing her coat, Kennedy had been able to slip her hand in the pocket and press the key for Nick.

  Adam pushed her forward, and she stumbled, only halfway acting. Running in stilettos hadn’t been in Irelyn’s lesson plans. Wanting to alert Nick to what was happening, she snapped, “Adam, holding a gun on me is totally unacceptable behavior. I demand to know what the hell is going on.”

  His hand swung out, slapped her hard across the face. “Shut up or I swear I’ll kill you here.”

  Only by sheer luck was she able to stay upright. The blow to her face stung, but Adam gave her no time to recover. He pushed her into the elevator and pressed the button for the forty-second floor.

  “Why are we going to your office on the forty-second floor?” She winced inwardly. Had that been too obvious?

  She was once again grateful for Adam’s lack of intelligence as he answered her without any hesitation. “We’re going to wait there till someone comes to take care of you.”

  In what seemed like only seconds, they had arrived at Adam’s office, and he was pushing her into the lobby. Nodding at a chair in the plush waiting area, he said, “Sit down. Get comfortable.”

  Kennedy dropped into a chair and looked around at her empty, elegant surroundings. She turned back to Adam, who had seated himself across from her. Everything seemed so calm and normal. They could’ve been two people conversing about business or world politics. The only anomaly was the pistol pointed directly at her head.

  She’d love to get to her gun. Strapped to her outer thigh, its weight was reassuring but frustrating. So far, whipping the weapon out from beneath her dress without attracting his attention had been impossible. His eyes had been locked on her since he’d pulled his gun. So for right now, she could only continue to play his game until he took his eyes off her.

  She huffed out an angry breath. “Adam, for the last time, I don’t care who you think I am. My name is Rachel Walker, and I’m from Amarillo.”

  “Problems?”

  Both she and Adam turned at the sound of a male voice. A tall, heavy-set man strode toward them, the gun in his bear-claw hand twice the size of Adam’s. Her heart dropped. She might have been able to disarm Adam, but no way could she handle this man.

  “You must’ve been in the area,” Adam said.

  “I’m never far away,” the man said. “You should know that by now.”

  “Who are you?” Kennedy asked the question, already knowing the answer—hard to forget the voice of a man who had tried to kill her. She was surprised she had the ability to speak at all. And though she sounded a little shaky, she was encouraged to hear the steel behind the words.

  “Cyrus Denton.” He shook his head, real regret in his eyes. “Mrs. O’Connell…it is you. You look very different at a distance, but up close, I can definitely see the resemblance.”

  Seeing no reason to continue to deny her identity—even if they decided they’d made a mistake, neither of them intended for her to leave the building alive.

  “You’re the man who ran me off the road and stole the packet Thomas left me.”

  Adam released a weird crowing sound. “I knew it!”

  As if Adam wasn’t there, Cyrus kept his focus on Kennedy. “Why didn’t you just forget about it like I told you? If you had, none of this would be happening now.”

  Fury overriding her fear, she sprang to her feet and glared up at him. “My husband was murdered. I lost my child. You think those are things I could just forget?”

  “Out of all the jobs I’ve handled for the Slaters, killing you was one of the most unpleasant tasks I’d ever been assigned. That’s why I let you go. I admire your courage and devotion to your late husband and child. Unfortunately, they’re going to get you killed.”

  “Wait a minute,” Adam said. “You told me the wreck was so bad, you thought she was dead. If you let her go, then you knew she wasn’t hurt. This is all your fault.”

  Denton turned to Adam. “Shut up, idiot. It was your screw-up to begin with. Ever wonder why that was the first and last termination Mathias assigned to you? Because everything you touch turns to shit.”

  Eyes and mouth both gaped open in astonishment. “You can’t talk to me that way. My daddy—”

  “Your daddy knows exactly what happened. If you had let me handle things when we first learned about those stolen papers, none of this would have been necessary.”

  “I didn’t have enough facts.”

  “One of these days you’ll learn that if you wait till you have all the facts, you’ve missed your chance. Course, by then, it’ll probably be too late again.”

  Cyrus pointed to the elevator with his gun. “Let’s go, Mrs. O’Connell.”

  “Where are you taking her?”

  “What does it matter? I’m taking care of your problems like I always have.”

  “So…like…are you going to shoot her or what?”

  As if he were explaining a complicated matter to a child, he said, “First, I need to find out who’s involved in this with her.”

  “How are you going to do that?”

  “You want details?”

  “No…I guess not.”

  “You stay here. I’ll be back—” His eyes narrowed, focusing on something behind her.

  Kennedy turned and almost cried out. The security monitor on the receptionist’s desk showed the front lobby, where Nick was standing at the bank of elevators, violently punching numbers with one hand, his Glock in his other hand.

  “Good thing I disabled all but one freight elevator.” His eyes swung back to Kennedy. “Looks like we know of at least one other person involved.”

  “That’s her ex-boyfriend,” Adam explained. “Grimm something or other. I had him checked out. He’s evil looking but fairly harmless.”

  “Just like you had Rachel Walker checked out?” Cyrus taunted.

  Throwing him a hateful glare, Adam slammed his mouth shut.

  “There are a whole lot more than two people involved,” she assured him. “Just you wait. An entire arsenal of people will be here soon.”

  “Then I guess I’d better take care of the two of you real fast. Adam, keep your gun on her at all times. I’m going to take care of her friend, then I’ll be back to get the girl.”

  “You don’t think you should just go ahead and shoot her here?”

  “You want to explain the blood to your employees tomorrow?”

  “No.”

  “Then keep her here till I get back.” And because he obviously thought his employer’s son was an imbecile, he nodded toward the gun in Adam’s hand. “You have bullets in there, right?”

  “Of course,” he snapped. “At least I think so.”

  Rolling his eyes, Cyrus pulled another gun from his pocket, unlocked the safety, and handed it to Adam. “Put yours away and use this one. Just don’t shoot yourself.”

  He turned and strode toward the freight elevator in the corner.

  Only by reminding herself that Nick was a trained professional was she able to sit still and watch the man walk away. If she tried to go after him, she had no doubt he would kill her and wouldn’t even have to use his gun. She closed her eyes and prayed with all her might for Nick’s safety. She could not bear to lose him…she couldn’t.

  “Sit dow
n,” Adam said. “Looks like we’re going to be here awhile longer.”

  Kennedy turned her attention back to the man who had ordered Thomas’s death. A sudden, inexplicable calm swept through her. Earlier today, she had accepted that the lack of incriminating evidence against Adam meant he would never pay for Thomas’s death. But she had a chance to change that. Her cellphone had a microphone. A recorded confession, along with Adam’s notes bragging about hiring a hit man, would be impossible to dispute.

  Nick would have heard that Denton was on his way down. He would know what to do. Now it was her turn.

  Returning to her chair, a shiver, only partially an act, visibly swept through her. Gathering the coat in her lap closer to her, she slipped her hand in her pocket and hit the record button on the side of the phone.

  She took an imperceptible, bracing breath to steady herself and faced the man who had destroyed her life. “You won’t get away with killing me.”

  “Of course I will.”

  “How many people have you killed?”

  “Me?” He looked slightly amused. “No one personally. I mean, it’s not like I have a six-shooter and go around shooting people. I run several multibillion-dollar companies. My time is limited.”

  Actually other people ran the companies for him. From what she could tell, Adam went around making bad investments, losing money and then schmoozing people hoping to recoup his losses. She held her tongue. Telling him what she thought about his business skills would have only put him on the defensive. The boastful side of Adam would get her what she needed.

  “So you just have other people kill for you.”

  “Something like that. Your husband and that sleazy mole from our accounting firm were actually my first termination assignment.”

  Yes, this is where she wanted him to go. “You’re the one who ordered my husband’s death?”

  “Yes. Quite an empowering moment, if I do say so myself.”

  Fighting the urge to hurl herself at him and pummel his face into a bloody mess, she asked, “How did you know about Thomas’s investigation?”

  He made a casual wave of his gun. “We’ve got informants everywhere. When we first heard about O’Connell, we weren’t really worried. The man could find nothing. Then that sleazebag snitch Milton Ward contacted your husband. We had no choice but to take both of them out. And despite Cyrus’s opinion, everything worked out just fine. With the exception of you dying, that is. But that was his fault, not mine.”

  She had what she needed. Now it was time to escape and find Nick. Calling on one of the more amusing acting lessons Irelyn had given her, Kennedy whispered truthfully, “I hate you,” then covered her face with her hands and began to sob uncontrollably. The noise sounded authentic to her, but was Adam buying it? She dared a peek through her fingers. Irelyn had told her tears made men uncomfortable, and sure enough, Adam was squirming in his seat, looking lost, helpless and completely out of his element. Apparently, this trick worked even on conscienceless criminals.

  “Could you get me some tissue?”

  “There’s some right behind you.”

  Kennedy turned. He was right. There was a box of tissues behind her, along with a wooden statue of Venus. She bent down but instead of the tissue, she grabbed the statue, whirled and slammed it against the gun in his hand, knocking it to the floor.

  Adam cursed, grabbing for the gun. Kennedy dashed toward the stairway door, cringing when bullets whizzed by her. He had recovered the gun sooner than she’d expected. Another bullet whooshed by, inches from her face, and slammed into the wall beside her.

  Kennedy jerked the door open and dove. Soaring through the air, she landed on her side, halfway down the stairs. Ignoring the pain of her bruised hip, she took a second to pull the gun from her thigh holster and slip out of her shoes.

  Springing to her now bare feet, she took off down the stairway.

  Chapter Forty-five

  Hidden behind the giant desk in the foyer, Nick tried to suppress his rising panic as he waited for Cyrus Denton to arrive. In the middle of Kennedy’s conversation with Adam, which included him admitting he’d ordered the hit on Thomas, there had been some kind of scuffle. Nick had heard a man grunt and rapid footsteps. The terrifying sound of several shots being fired. And then nothing. No words, no sounds. Had Kennedy been shot? Was she lying on the floor somewhere, bleeding out, while he waited for this asshole to show up?

  A voice rumbled behind him. “Okay, slowly stand up, drop your gun. Put your hands in the air.”

  Jaw locked with frustration and fear for Kennedy, Nick stood and put the gun beside him on the desk.

  “Now, don’t be stupid. Take your left hand and push the gun toward me.”

  When Nick complied, he added, “Bend down and with your left hand, take the gun from your ankle holster.”

  “I don’t have a gun at my ankle.”

  “Lift your pant legs, let me see.”

  Nick pulled at his pant legs to show he had no hidden weapons at his ankles.

  “Huh…I’m surprised. I figured you for a guy who would’ve been better prepared. Okay, let’s head over to the elevators. There’s a little lady I think you’ll be happy to see…at least for a few minutes until I have to kill you both.”

  Nick kept his hands up, but instead of moving forward, he slowly turned to face the man.

  “Dammit, I told you—” Denton’s eyes went wide. “Well, I’ll be damned…you’re that cop I shot.”

  Of all the things he’d thought the guy would say, this hadn’t been one of them.

  “Thanks for telling me.” Nick gave an arrogant nod. “That’ll just make me doubly glad when I kill you.”

  The big man grinned his approval. “I like a man with confidence.” He jerked his head toward the long bank of elevators. “Let’s get going…they’re working now.”

  Denton was a professional killer. Nick wasn’t about to underestimate him, but neither was he going to follow the guy’s commands. This ended here.

  Hands still in the air, Nick twisted sideways and went for his gun on the counter. Denton got there first, grabbed the gun. Nick landed on the other side of the counter. Squatted down, he waited for his opportunity.

  “Now that was a damn stupid move. Get up asshole…it’s time for you to die.”

  Pulling the gun he’d tucked underneath his jacket at the small of his back, Nick surged to his feet. “You first.” Firing, he put one round in Denton’s forehead, one in his chest. The man fell back like a giant oak.

  He grabbed the dead man’s gun, retrieved his weapon from the floor and then made a mad dash to the elevators. His fist pounded the Up button as he whispered urgently, “Come on…come on…”

  Pulling out his cellphone, he pressed speed-dial for Justice. The instant the man answered, Nick said quickly, urgently, “I need backup at Slater Enterprises.”

  “Sending help now.”

  Nick pocketed his phone, glared up at the elevator lights. Why the hell did the elevator have to take so long? Should he go ahead and just try for the stairs? He could—

  Rapid gunfire sounded. He whirled. The stairs! It was coming from the stairs. Taking off like a madman, Nick skidded to a stop at the entrance to the stairs. He jerked open the door and took off up the stairway. More gunfire erupted, and then the most horrifying sound of all spiraled down to him: a blood-curdling scream of agony.

  Kennedy raced down the hallway, grabbed hold of a door, twisted the knob. Locked, dammit. She took off again. She was now on the thirty-fifth floor, having made it seven floors down before Adam caught up with her. He’d shot at her three times, missed twice. That gun she’d been so proud to have in her hand had flipped from her fingers the instant she’d been shot. She had managed to get away from him, but fire burned in her right shoulder, blood trickled down her arm, which was becoming increasingly useless. And she had no weapon.

  She came to another door, jiggled the handle. Locked again. Dammit, didn’t anyone leave their door open in this
place?

  A squeak sounded from behind her, and she glanced over her shoulder, saw the stairway door opening. He’d found her. She turned a corner, saw another door, said a prayer and reached for the door handle, which twisted and came open. Closing the door softly behind her, she had little time to explore her surroundings. Though the room was dark, she noticed the small light of a soda dispenser. No wonder she had been able to get inside…this was a break room. She fitted herself between a cabinet and a vending machine, stooped down and waited.

  Adam’s quick footsteps sounded in the hallway. His voice, loud and wheedling, sent shudders through her body. “Ken…na…dy! Where are you? Come on out, hon, and let’s settle this once and for all. I know you’re dying to see your wimp of a husband and that little baby you lost. Just think, all you have to do is walk out into the hallway, and it’ll all be over. Then you can live happily ever after.” Laughter rang out. “Oops, I mean die happily ever after.”

  She knew the taunts were supposed to enrage her so she would make a mistake. Nothing the evil bastard said could hurt her. She had been through hell…lost everything she held most dear, but she had survived, found life again and a wonderful man to share it with. This loathsome creature would not steal anything more from her.

  So she waited…held her breath. She tried not to think about Nick. He was trained and fit. He knew how to handle himself. He would survive—there was no other option. She just needed to find a way to get away from Adam, and then Nick would take care of him.

  Footsteps were right outside the door. Kennedy froze in place, barely breathing.

  Adam paused for an instant, and then he moved away. Seconds later, she heard his loud sigh and then, “Well, I guess she’s on another floor,” and then footsteps again as if he were moving farther away. She heard the slam of the stairway door.

  His actions reminded her of a child playing hide-and-go-seek, trying to make a playmate believe he had given up and moved on. So she waited.

  Dizziness assailed her…she had to get something on her shoulder to stop the bleeding or she would pass out. Grateful her eyes had adjusted to the dim lighting, she spotted a stack of napkins on one of the tables. She crawled to the table, grabbed the napkins and tucked a wad under her sleeve.