“I have to retire soon,” He mumbles as he gets into his four door sedan. The engine purrs to life with barely a sound, and he smoothly puts it in reverse. The cool, night air washes over him as he rolls down the window and listens for the sounds of incoming vehicles.
Flicking off his headlights, he curses as he tries to maneuver the driveway up to the Grant farm silently. It’s no use. He stops the car, locks it and pockets the keys. Then he pulls out his gun and flicks off the safety as he creeps up the rest of the mountainside. Cassidy’s vehicle is still out front, and the porch light is on.
There are no lights on within the house and none shining inside the barn. The horses are all still outside in the pasture, but most of them are crowded around the outside of their sleeping quarters as if they’re wondering what the hell has happened. Blake stops when he hears a sound from inside the barn’s open door and tilts his head to listen.
His breath wafts in front of him, crystalized by the freezing temperatures outside. Gravel shifts under one foot as he moves his weight to face the barn, and his eyes narrow as he tries to see into the dark enclosure. Hanging from the rafters are two shapes, and not too far away is another lump. Swallowing the fear that he won’t see the end of this night, Blake Adamson’s brown eyes dart from left to the right before he ducks into the barn.
What he finds hanging inside makes his insides twirl around as if someone is banging on a piñata, but he doesn’t vomit. Instead, he reaches down to the small, frail shape of Cassidy Grant and lifts her up to her feet with his fist in her shirt. He drags her away from the bloody mess and tries not to cringe when his boot slips in the blood.
Blake doesn’t bother looking for Robert Grant because he’s pretty sure the mutilated body hanging from the rafters is him. The young woman beside him doesn’t shiver in the frigid air, and her breathing is even. The vacant look in her eyes is one that Blake has seen all too often in his lifetime. It’s the look of a human being that has seen too much cannot compartmentalize. Cassidy Grant will forever be haunted by the pieces of her father hanging from the rafters of his barn.
Disturbed by the scene himself, Blake’s hands shake as he helps Cassidy into the passenger seat of his vehicle. He finds it troubling that she hasn’t fought him off or asked who he is, but maybe she recognizes him from the times he worked on her father’s farm. Just as he starts the vehicle, he sees a pair of headlights coming up the drive.
Moonlight Rogers’ Viper pulls up beside his, and the sound of the bottom of the car scraping against the gravel makes Blake cringe. He rolls down his window and blasts the heater in an attempt to bring some life into Cassidy. She probably wasn’t in there more than an hour, but that’s long enough to chill her to the bone.
“What did you find?” Rogers asks as he leans forward to look at Cassidy sitting in the passenger seat. She must have touched her father at some point because there’s blood on her hands and a few streaks in her hair.
“Grant’s dead, probably an hour and a half to two hours ago. Cassidy’s in shock and I’m going to take her to a hospital. I’ll call HQ and let them know the situation.” Moonlight nods once as he rolls up his window and continues to torture his vehicle as he heads up the driveway. He’ll wait there for the rest of his team to show up before he gets out of his vehicle and looks around. Then they’ll have to discern what happened. It will be a field day for the media if they can’t keep this quiet.
“Reese’s Pieces needs fed.” Cassidy mumbles as she looks down at her bloody hands. She starts to whimper as they shake and her expression is jumbled as she tries to remember what happened. Blake shifts into third as he guns it down the empty stretch of highway ahead of them outside of town. He doesn’t want to be around when she loses her mind, but he has a feeling he’s going to be.
Just as he takes the exit for the nearest hospital, his passenger begins to scream hysterically as she stares at her hands.
* * *
Remember, it’s Jack Evans now not Troy Red. Jack Evans, Jack Evans, Jack Evans…
“Fuck, first it’s Robert, then it’s Troy, now it’s Jack! Can’t a guy ever have just one name?” Fidgeting as he sits in the waiting room, Troy cannot help the mumbled exclamation. There’s no one in the room with him, so it’s not actually an issue that he’s talking to himself.
“Jack Evans?” A woman calls from the doorway, and he stands. It took just one phone call to Moonlight Rogers to have a fake background created for Jack Evans, labeling him as an expert mechanic. The wages are not always the greatest, but it’ll be something to do with his hands to keep his mind from wandering to Cassidy Grant.
He winces when he realizes that he thought the forbidden name and stands from his position on the chair. The woman notices the flinch. But doesn’t say a word as she leads him through the crisp, white waiting room clients sit in when they’re waiting for a vehicle to be worked on. Then he’s led into a hallway with light brown tiles and off white walls. The woman’s heels click on the tiles ahead of him, and he tries to stare at her as he would have stared at Cassidy. But it doesn’t work.
“Right this way, Jack.” She leads him into a conference room with leather seating and a small, round table. He chooses the seat furthest from the window and clasps his hands together in the table as he waits. The woman is still hanging in the doorway and furrows her brows when she looks at him as if she recognizes him. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.
“Would you like some water, Mr. Evans?” It takes a full second for him to realize that she’s actually speaking to him, and he shakes his head.
“No, that’s alright.” He has his paperwork in front of him when the manager of the dealership enters. Plastering on a fake smile, Troy stands to shake the man’s hand before they get started.
“I’m Mike Foster, the manager of the service department here.” He doesn’t wait for Troy to speak and continues on with his obviously rehearsed spiel. “I see that you have six years of experience working with BMW’s, and you went to a Technical School for mechanical work. How was that for you?” His palms are already sweaty as he tries to come up with something to say.
“The usual, I guess. It was kind of boring, honestly. We didn’t get to think outside the box much.” Mike throws his head back as he laughs, but Troy can tell that it’s not an honest sound. This man makes a living from being dishonest with his customers. It’s written all over his face.
I don’t belong here. Troy narrows his eyes as he looks at the paperwork in front of him. This was a mistake. Before the mistake can spiral any further, Troy grabs his papers and folds them neatly before he stuffs them into his front jeans pocket. Mike stands up as if to stop him with a confused look on his face, but Troy doesn’t hear a word the man is saying as he steps out of the office.
I can’t make a living lying again.
He slips into the silver BMW M6 Coupe. The car was a celebration gift from the agency for helping condemn Killian Yukon. It’s a quick enough vehicle, but Troy does have one complaint. It’s a little small for his taste. He shifts it into first as he peels out of the parking lot of the dealership, and wonders how he’s going to make a living. Maybe he ought to sell the car.
Thoughts slip through Troy’s mind as he streaks down the road at reckless speeds to get home. He thought he’d hate the desert, but it turns out that anything remotely close to a tree makes his chest constrict. It reminds him of his first day in his new home, and he doesn’t want to have to replace that porch post again. It was unnecessary.
Tumble weeds are the only things that are remotely close to life out here, and he likes it that way. Cranking up the stereo, Troy drums his fingers to the beat of a fast, harsh song while he heads home. And he’s made it a home away from his true home. It’s decorated with all things manly, except nude posters. Those are for teenagers.
He whistles as he opens up the driver’s side door and closes it, and then he narrows his eyes when he sees a black sedan pulled around the back. Cautiously, Troy climbs the front steps
to the place that has been his home for six weeks now, and doesn’t bother sliding the key in. The front door is unlocked, and as soon as he swings it open he is hit in the face with a memory.
It’s the scent of her shampoo that wafts over him first, along with the scent of her. He doesn’t need to see her to know that she’s somewhere in his house, and Troy wonders if he’s lost his mind. His heart does a funny rhythm that has him clutching at his chest for an instant, and then the fingers fall away in his shock as he sees the pretty blonde hair chopped short with the pink streak.
“Troy,” She says with a tone of indifference when she turns around to see him. Moonlight Rogers is sitting on his leather couch with one ankle up on his leg as he reads Troy’s book.
“It’s Jack now, sweetheart, I told you that.” Rogers says casually as he turns a page. The only change in his demeanor that lets Troy know Rogers is nervous is the way his pulse increases in his jugular.
“It was never Jack to me,” Cassidy says as she looks Troy up and down. He sees it there for an instant, the longing he’s felt for the past six weeks reflected back at him. Then it’s gone, and Cassidy is like granite as she looks into his eyes.
“What happened?” If she’s standing in his home, it can only mean one thing. Her father’s cover was blown, and if he’s not here…
“You didn’t see the news? The barn burned down with my father inside. Isn’t that right, Moonlight?” The man nods once, curtly as he glances at Cassidy with worry on his face.
“This is not what you said you wanted to discuss when you came here.” Rogers puts down the book gently and stands as if he’s going to escort Cassidy away, but Troy steps in front of her at the last second. Changing his mind, Moonlight decides to take a stroll in the desert sun. Troy might find that amusing if he weren’t standing with his back turned to an angry woman. There’s a rule book somewhere, and he’s just violated one of those rules.
“You’re going to tell me every detail of what happened, Cassidy. Set your rage aside for the time being, we’ll deal with that after this is taken care of.” This is who he was met to be. He tried to blame it on his upbringing when he was at the Grant farm and when his sister inquired about what he did for a living, but those were excuses. Troy Red is met to be a killer. It’s just a matter of which side he’s playing on at the time.
“The hell I am!” Her screech makes his ears prick painfully, and he turns around to face her, towering hover her like she’s nothing but a blade of grass before him. It enrages her and her hand snakes out to slap him. She’s imagined doing it hundreds of times as she was shuffled from one hotel room to the next, and while she was begging Moonlight to bring her here. Now that she has the chance to do it, it’s not as fulfilling because Troy guesses her intentions.
His fingers curl around the tiny wrist, and he grabs her other fist when it comes up to hit him in the jaw. She’s winded, and he’s barely moving an inch to keep her from harming him. The muscle in his jaw is twitching, though, and that means she’s gotten to him. Somewhere inside, he’s feeling a strong emotion. Cassidy just wishes she could be as stone cold as him in a situation like this. Just as she thinks about kneeing him in the groin, Troy turns his body slightly to the right as he stares at her.
It looks as if he’s done this before.
“Fine, but after I tell you what happened we’re going to have it out! You and I have some very, very important unfinished business!” Cassidy struggles against his hold, and just to get his point across, Troy holds on for a few more seconds before he lets go. She sits down on a stool at the small bar adjacent to the living room and tries to fix her hair, which is currently sticking up on end.
“You look…different.” Troy tries to figure out why he feels this way, but it must be the fact that he’s never seen her so distraught. “How is Reese’s Pieces?” Her face pales and he regrets asking.
“He’s at some farm in New York being raised by a jockey. The guy said he has potential, and he seemed nice. I couldn’t bring him with me. I couldn’t bring anything with me!” Her eyes begin to fill with tears, but she sniffs once so that they don’t fall and turns her head away from his gaze. This isn’t how he imagined it would be if they ever saw each other again. There were a lot of clothes ripping off in his fantasies.
“Cassidy,” He starts, but she holds up a hand to stop him and turns her expressionless face towards him. He recognizes the moment when someone shuts off their emotional thoughts and settles down on a stool at the other end of the bar. Moonlight’s going to be tan by the time this discussion is over.
“I’m going to tell you what happened the night my father died. And then you’re going to listen to what I have to tell you about us. But first things first, business. I’m hiring you, Robert Trenton, to kill the man who killed my father.” His heart rate increases substantially, his chest constricts and his worst nightmare becomes a reality. Troy’s body is completely motionless on the outside, but on the inside, he is attempting to keep the scream of outrage in. How could she ask him of something like this? After what happened to his sister and his niece because of his actions, how could she ask him to kill again for money?
“No.” Troy grates out the word between his clenched teeth, and Cassidy turns so that she’s facing him in the stool. They’re at least four feet apart, but he can feel the undeniable hatred wafting off her.
“What did you say?” She asks in a quiet tone, her fingers gripping the edge of the mahogany bar so tight that they’re losing all color.
“I said no.” Troy tells her again, this time with a little more force. She opens her mouth to contradict him, and for the second time in his life, he loses his control. Her neck is as soft as he remembered it, and her pulse increases under his fingers as he applies a little bit of force. She can still breathe and speak, but it’s obvious that Troy will break her neck if she tries to struggle. “I will find your father’s killer and rip him limb from limb, Cassidy Grant, but I will not accept payment for it.”
His nose is touching hers, but there’s no softness in his eyes when he looks at her, only sweet, cold rage. Cassidy swallows painfully and moves her chin minutely in a bob to let him know that she understands. As soon as his hand is gone from her throat, she puts her own hand over the warm spot and massages her Adam’s apple.
“Whatever, why don’t I just start talking?” The fight seems to have left her for the time being, and in front of him is a weary woman who has seen too much in her lifetime. Troy doesn’t know how he feels about her in this moment, but he does know that he doesn’t hate her.
“I got a phone call,” She starts, and Troy automatically interrupts.
“The number?” He asks softly.
“Unknown. The cops traced it back to a payphone, and they’ve found no prints. I didn’t even know payphones still exist, but they do. Anyway, I was suspicious because the man on the other end asked for me, and when I responded he hung up.” Troy gets a sinking feeling in his gut as he listens. “I called my father, and he said he just received a phone call like the one I got, so I didn’t think beyond that. I hung up, and called Moonlight for help. When I got there, he was already dead.”
“Describe the scene for me from the moment you stepped out of your vehicle.” Cassidy sucks in a large breath and lets it out slowly with her cheeks puffed before she continues.
“I got out of my car because the porch light was on, wait, no; I sat there for a while. I couldn’t see any other lights on inside the house, and I was suspicious because the horses were still out in the pasture. Then I got out of my car, and I was going to the barn first because of the horses. I was on the phone with Rogers when I was at the barn’s entrance, and then I saw him. I saw him h-hanging from the rafters in p-pieces.” Her voice cracks and her face crumbles as her shoulders hunch forward. Cassidy tries to hide her face with her hands as she loses control. Robert Trenton and Jack Evans don’t care about Cassidy Grant, but Troy Red does. He slips off his stool silently, and she jumps when his arms enc
ircle her, pulling her into an embrace.
“I’ll find him.” Troy tells her as he stares at the man in the mirror across from him. The eyes are hardened like obsidian, and his jaw is locked to hold in the repressed emotions. This time he will take revenge on the killer that hurt Cassidy and him by killing her father himself. There will be no trial.
“Troy, there’s something else.” She pulls back just enough to look up at his determined face, and she tries for a smile. It wobbles horrendously as she tries to open her mouth to say something. Thinking that the proximity is making her nervous, Troy takes a step back from her.
Moonlight Rogers chooses that moment to open up the front door, and Cassidy clams up immediately.
Chapter Ten
“It’s time for us to go, darling.” He pulls out his cellphone and flicks through a few messages while he waits for Cassidy to jump as she should, but she’s not moving.
“I’m not going anywhere, Rogers. I’m staying here. I can stay here, right?” The undeniable rage from earlier is not gone, but it’s been transferred to the person who killed her father. Cassidy puts the small of her back against the bar as she sits down on the stool again, and waits for Troy to say that she can stay.
“Cassidy, I don’t know if that’s such a great idea.” He starts, and her face plummets along with her heart. “It’s not that I don’t want you here, God, I’ve been dreaming of the moment you could be here with me for weeks!” His face flushes with his admission in front of Moonlight, but he decides he’d better say his piece before Cassidy stomps out of his life forever. She was just about to tell him something important.
“Then why can’t I stay?” He would rather have her screaming at him now instead of this small, frail woman in front of him trying to look tough. The pink streak in her hair falls forward as she looks down at the hardwood floor. Cassidy studies the grains in that floor in an attempt to keep from crying.
Assassin Page 13