HER LAST KILL

by S. M. Butler

  “What about you?” he snapped, as he zipped up his shorts. He stepped toward her, tapping her chest with a long finger that hours ago had been inside her making her come. “You were conveniently there at the right time. With a gun. Who carries a fucking gun to a carnival?”

  “I always have a weapon,” she whispered.

  “See, that’s not normal,” he said. “Supposedly, you’re a fucking receptionist. But that’s not all you are, is it? You are far too comfortable with a weapon to be that woman who wears fucking flower dresses and high heels.”

  “A lot of people own guns. This is Texas, after all.”

  “And they’re able to hit a moving target center mass like that without some kind of training?” He shook his head. “Someone else might believe that bullshit, but I don’t.” He punched his chest with his thumb. “I was a goddamned Marine.”

  She glared at him. “Don’t you dare judge me. A Marine doesn’t make you a fucking angel.”

  “I never said I was. If I am an angel, what does that make you?”

  “The devil’s servant,” she whispered.

  His face went hard and cold, stabbing her directly in the chest as if a long icicle had pierced her heart. “Fuck this.”

  Agonizing icy pain washed over her as he grabbed his shoes from where they’d landed in the bathroom and stalked toward the door. She followed him. “Where are you going?”

  He stopped, his back toward her, and his hand on the door knob. His shoulders stiffened. He turned around, not taking his hand off the door knob. His face was wracked with emotions she couldn’t identify, save one. Betrayal.

  “I quit,” he said.

  Then he left, taking all the air in the room with him as the door slammed shut behind him.

  15

  Nathan stood in the briefing room of the Reapers’ lair. He wasn’t sure why they called it a lair, but it sort of suited the place. Thankfully, none of them were here at the moment, so he was able to make this call.

  “Sierra, scramble this call please,” Nathan said as he keyed in the number.

  “Of course, Mr. Hawk. I’m more than happy to comply.” The AI’s decidedly female voice hit him in the chest. Maybe it was personal punishment that made him program Sierra with his wife’s voice. It seemed only right that this Company that he’d built for her and their daughter would pay homage to her in some fashion.

  Nathan smiled a harsh grin as the man to whom he wanted to talk filled the screen in front of him.

  “Mr. Hawk?”

  “Yes, Senator Reilly,” Nathan replied. The man’s suit was probably at least five thousand, which wasn’t unusual for a man in his position. His nails were manicured, his hair slicked back, his handkerchief folded nice and neatly into a square that fit in his front pocket. He wondered how many people’s lives were on the man’s hands, invisible blood that would forever stain the man’s soul.

  “I admit, I was surprised to hear from you,” the man was saying. “It was my understanding that you don’t really involve yourself in American politics.”

  Nathan smiled tightly. “I don’t. My interests lie in… more… important pursuits.”

  “In my opinion, there’s not much more important than politics,” the senator said with a dazzling smile that made Nathan want to kick in. “Politics makes the world go ‘round.”

  “Yes, I do believe you would think that.”

  “You don’t agree.”

  That wasn’t a question, but Nathan shook his head anyway. “No.”

  “So, why are we having this conversation then?”

  “Senator, have you heard of York Imports?” The man’s face paled just a bit, just enough to signal that Nathan was on the right track.

  “No, I can’t say that I have,” he replied.

  “Well, let me bring you up to speed then,” Nathan replied calmly. “On the outside, it looks like an import company that brings goods in from the Mediterranean. It’s actually an illegal smuggling operation with its roots in five different shell corporations operating out of Afghanistan.”

  “Mr. Hawk—”

  “It smuggles money out of Afghanistan, washes it, and then imports it into the States where it gets funneled into multiple political campaign operations.”

  Senator Reilly’s face turned pink, which was the only indication that Nathan might have been on the right track. “I’m not sure where you’re going with this conversation.”

  “I looked into Daniel Lewis’s financials. There are several deposits from York Imports into his offshore accounts over the last several years.”

  “Lewis’s corruption has been well documented over the last year, Mr. Hawk.”

  “And you own York Imports.”

  Senator Reilly rolled his shoulders back, locking his jaw tight. “Can you prove that?”

  No denial. A simple question instead. Nathan’s rage locked his jaw tight. For once he was glad that he wasn’t in the same room with the fucker. He wouldn’t have been able to stop himself from squeezing the life out of the man.

  “Yes,” Nathan lied. Sierra was having trouble backtracking the containers York Imports had brought in. Back then, computers weren’t quite as integrated as they were now. It was likely to be analog data, which Sierra wouldn’t be able to find.

  The senator leaned forward. “That is one hell of an accusation.”

  “I don’t make it lightly.”

  “What do you want? Money?” The man shook his head. “I don’t allow people to blackmail me.”

  “Ten years ago, my family was murdered. I found them, the ones that did it. I followed the money they were paid back to your import company. Imagine my surprise when I backtracked the ownership through so many shell companies.”

  “Can’t say that I know what you’re talking about, Mr. Hawk.”

  “Let’s not mince words anymore, Senator. I’m not interested in sending you to prison. Someone has been coming after an employee of mine. Axel Martinez.”

  “Sorry to hear that, but perhaps the police—"

  “He’s under my protection. Call off the hit and we will let bygones be bygones. Otherwise, I will retaliate, and I promise, you won’t like what happens next.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The senator smiled tightly. “I’m sorry I can’t help you.”

  “I know you hired an assassin to kill him. I know you own York Imports. And I know you’ve been laundering money from the Middle East for years to fund your campaign for the White House next year.”

  “That’s a crazy story,” the senator replied, smiling still. “It’s like fiction.”

  “Perhaps,” Nathan said. “It would be a shame for this to hit the media.”

  “You can go ahead and try, if you like. It’ll be buried in hours.”

  The conversation reminded Nathan of a tennis match. The back and forth, the hitting of the ball just in the right way for it to bounce before it went out of bounds or the opponent hit it back. Nathan had no intention of going to the media, but Reilly didn’t need to know that. He wanted the senator to know that he was closing in on him, to know that he would catch him.

  Sadly, the senator wasn’t much different than Lewis, or himself, really. Men like Lewis and Reilly always thought they were untouchable, that they were better than everyone. Until recently, Nathan might have been the same way. But the closer he got to his family’s murderer, the more he remembered he couldn’t be like them. He had to remember who he was before that day, and why he had to make sure this man wouldn’t take anyone else’s family away.

  Lewis had been brought down by a twenty-two-year-old girl he’d raised as his own daughter. Reilly didn’t have a family, but Nathan would bring him down with the money he so coveted. The irony would be delicious.

  Lewis had mentioned there was a whole organization out there, like his Company, but worse. It was those people that ordered his family’s deaths. And he would not rest until every one of them were dead, until he could look in the eye of the people who
had ordered their deaths.

  “Call your hitman. Tell them the deal is off. Pay them and walk away.” Nathan leaned against the table and zeroed his gaze on the senator. “This is your last chance, Senator. Do the right thing.”

  The senator rearranged himself in his seat, then smiled his best politician’s smile. “I’m sorry I don’t have any clue what you’re talking about. Though if I were talking to such a man that hire an assassin to kill someone’s family, I think I’d worry about what else that man was capable of.”

  Nathan smiled back. He’d almost hoped the man would say no, really. “Is that all you’ve got, Senator? A thinly veiled threat?” Nathan chuckled. “I have nothing left to lose. Can you say the same?”

  “I’m afraid you’ve got the wrong person, Mr. Hawk. My apologies that you’ve wasted your time.” The man stood up on the screen and smoothed his jacket down. “It appears it’s time for my next appointment. If you’ll excuse me?”

  “Of course,” Nathan replied. He sighed. “I’d hoped you were as smart as you appeared to be. It seems I was mistaken. I will look forward to our next conversation.”

  He switched off the screen and groaned. He hadn’t expected the senator to all but admit to York Imports. That meant the information he needed was probably buried deeper than he thought.

  “I guess that didn’t go well.”

  Nathan whirled around at the feminine voice. Bridget stood in the doorway. She wore her typical business attire, a pinstripe pencil skirt and a light blue blouse. Her high heels clicked across the floor as she entered the room.

  “What are you doing here?” He growled as he turned back to the black screen.

  “You ran away,” she said. “We still have a conversation to get through.”

  “Bridget… I can’t. Not right now.”

  She pushed the door shut behind her and stepped slowly toward him, nice and easy. “I think you’re mistaken as to which conversation I mean.” The light clicks of her heels echoed in the room until she was right behind him. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up on end, warning him of her nearness.

  Nathan frowned. “Bridget…” As he turned, she slid her palms up his chest, the material of his t-shirt wrinkling beneath her. “Bridget, what are you doing?”

  “I’ve been thinking…” she whispered, pressing closer to him. He let out a shaky breath as her breasts pressed against him. “I’ve asked a lot of you.”

  “Miss Muldoon, you told me no. I will respect your wishes. Please.” He’d have gotten on his knees to beg her to stop if he could muster the courage. After that huge fight, and the way he’d bungled the first time he’d brought up sex, he was content to wait for her to come around. But there was a desperation in the way she pressed herself against him, the way her hands wandered over his chest. “You don’t need to do this.”

  “I’m here to make you a deal.”

  Her hazel eyes slid up to his, her lids half covering the fire inside them. “A deal?”

  “I want to know everything, Nathan. Everything. In return, you’ll get what you’ve been asking for from me.”

  He stared at her. Was she really offering herself to him? In exchange for something he’d already agreed to give her? Fuck, he was seconds from agreeing to it just to be able to touch her smooth skin right then.

  She took a step back and he caught sight of the delectable swell of her breast as she slid her hands down her button line. It took him a moment to realize that she’d unbuttoned her blouse.

  “Bridget, I want you, but I won’t extort you for it.”

  “This isn’t extortion. This is a give and take. I want the whole story. From what happened to me, to what happened with Scott, to why Axel Martinez is so important. I want it all. I’m offering you a deal. You like deals, don’t you, Nathan?”

  “This stinks of desperation,” he replied, surprised that his voice was as even as it was. “I’ve already agreed to be more open with you.”

  “I want more than that,” she replied. She took his hands and lifted them to her chest, flattening his palms against her smooth skin.

  He groaned as his fingertips touched the swell of her breast. “What do you want?”

  “I want a partnership. I want to know everything. This doesn’t have to be a big deal, Nathan. We both get what we want this way.”

  “What changed your mind?” He ran his fingers up to her collarbone, sliding them outward until his fingers pushed underneath the blue fabric. It took everything he had to keep his hands from shaking.

  “I know you’ll never truly be open with me. You can’t. In your mind, you’ll always be stuck in the past, in that moment just before your family died. Because that’s where it’s safe.” She slid her fingers over his and maneuvered one of his hands over her breast. “I don’t want to fix you. I want to keep my brother safe. I can do that if I know everything you know. And you know what? I might see something you haven’t. We could get one step closer to finding your family’s killers, to finding who wants Martinez dead. Could you pass that opportunity by?”

  His hands moved of their own accord, smoothing up her bra straps to her shoulders, where he pushed the silky material of her blouse off her shoulders. Creamy, smooth skin captivated his attention as the fabric fell to her elbows.

  Her breasts filled out that black lace so nicely. He ran his hands down to her ribs, his thumbs under the swell of her breasts. Her breathing quickened. She was playing quiet the stoic figure, giving him all the right logical answers, but he was affecting her as much as she was affecting him.

  “Are you capable of keeping this separate? If this is a simple business transaction, attachments could make it complicated.”

  “You can fuck whoever you want, Nathan. I don’t care. But you want me. And I want the truth. No more lies. No more keeping me separate from other aspects of the Company. I go where you go.”

  Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew she wasn’t ready for such a relationship as that. Hell, he wasn’t ready for the feel of her body against his. This was probably going to be the biggest mistake he ever made. A single taste of her would only exacerbate his need for her.

  ~*~*~

  Bridget’s heart pounded against her chest as his fingers slid over her skin. Everywhere he touched, goosebumps followed. She struggled to keep the trembling of her body in check as his thumbs rubbed against the lace of her bra. So close, but the fabric separating them dulled the sensation she wanted to feel.

  As another tremble wracked her, his hand lifted to her face, lightly palming her cheek. Her body stilled, leaning into his touch with a soft sigh. “I’m a selfish bastard, Bridget.”

  She met his dark eyes. “I won’t argue that, but how do you mean?”

  “I’ve kept you separate, not because it is safer for you—it definitely is—but because you’ve always been mine to protect. Since that day at the bank, since I walked into the hospital to see you on life support… You’ve been mine. I will not share you.” He sighed and dropped his hand.

  That was as close to feeling as Nathan would ever get. Bridget trembled again as his thumb brushed against her cheek. “The choice is yours, Nathan. I want full disclosure. A partnership. Equal. Then you can have me.”

  His eyes darkened to twin orbs of ebony, the light of the room reflecting like fire in his eyes. He leaned toward her, his head tilted like he was going to kiss her, but he stopped just before they touched. His eyes held hers captive for long seconds before he said, “Done.”

  Then his lips pressed against hers, firm and commanding. She thought she would wilt away, but instead, her body turned to molten lava, molding against his strong chest. Yet, as firm as the kiss was, he was tender, too. His hands held her like she was fragile, like if she wanted to, she could break away and run.

  One hand cupped her cheek while the other snaked around her waist and pressed her tight against him. For a moment, she was airborne and then she was straddling him as he sat in one of the chairs in the room. Her skirt hiked up her t
highs until it caught uncomfortably on her butt cheeks.

  His hands roamed over her body, palming her ass and holding her against the growing bulge in his jeans.

  When he broke the kiss, his eyes burned like molten gold, and she knew it was for her. His hands slid over her thighs and ran up the inner flesh of her legs until his thumbs stopped just shy of her core. “You can still say no, Bridget.”

  She arched her back, her breasts pushing forward as his thumbs strummed over her panties. “I know.”

  Strong fingers pressed the fabric against her wet mound, his fingers circling around. “This is a problem though.”

  “What?”

  “No more of this,” he said, pulling at the delicate fabric of her underwear. He slid his hand into his jeans pocket and took out a small switchblade. She shivered as he cut the crotch in one smooth motion. “Can you do that for me, Bridget?” He set the knife down on the table behind her.

  “No underwear? Not ever?”

  “Not when you’re with me.”

  “That could get uncomfortable during the day when we’re working.”

  He chuckled and slid a finger along her slit. She gasped at the warmth of his finger as it circled her clit but didn’t touch it. He was teasing her. “I want to know that when you’re working at your desk, when I call you into my office, when we’re walking down the hallway together, you’re bare to me.”

  She had trouble breathing as his finger stroked her, pressing into her body rhythmically, but not hurried, or particularly aimed at making her come. But even still, she felt the heat of her pleasure build, but not enough to make her tumble off the edge. It was just enough that her insides contracted around his finger, struggling to hold him inside her, but Nathan was not a man to be restrained.

  This was nothing like she’d expected when she’d made Nathan the offer. She’d halfway expected for him to bend her over the desk, fuck her, and then they’d go about their day. This was on a whole different level.

  “Can you do that, Bridget?” His voice was a soft murmur as his thumb brushed over her clit. Her entire body convulsed against his fingers, but again, he held off her climax.