Atonement: The Hunter Mercenary Series (Book One)

by Morgan Kelley

  She sat and crossed her legs.

  Dakota was no saint. He didn’t miss that beneath that dressing gown, she was naked. The man in him peeked. The saint in him cussed himself out as he fought valiantly. The last time he’d been with a woman…it was Sarah, and it was over six months ago. While his heart said don’t do it, his libido…it was working with a different brain.

  “Where is he?” she asked, licking her lips. She was focused on the man watching her.

  She didn’t speak.

  Instead, she scribbled something down on paper sitting on her table.

  “Merci, cher.”

  She hung up. “I have his partner’s address. Now, as for my payment,” she said, holding the paper just out of Zayn’s reach.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Him.”

  She pointed her long dagger-like nail at the man he’d arrived with.

  “I’m in the mood to enjoy my day. I’m in the mood to take him for a ride.”

  Dakota’s eyes went big. “Pardon?”

  Had he just been offered up as a sex offering to the clearly wicked woman?

  Really?

  Zayn knew how lucky they got. If all this woman wanted was a quick lay, they were walking out of there ahead of the game. If he was going to play leader, he was going to have to put his money where his mouth was…

  Or his mouth wherever she told him to.

  “Deal. He’s yours.”

  He grabbed the paper and patted the man on the back.

  “See you downstairs. Make it fast. We have a partner to interrogate. In fact, you handle Charlotte. I’ll grab…Levi Dickenson,” he said, reading it off the paper.

  Then he headed toward the door.

  “Take your time and give the woman her money’s worth,” he said, grinning.

  She laughed. “Oh, he will.”

  “Thanks, Charlotte,” he said, as he closed the door behind him.

  She was focused on Dakota. “Well, what shall we do, Mr. Rakin?”

  He backed up, finding himself trapped between the woman and the wall. Again, his lower brain was trying to cajole him into getting naked, letting this creole woman crawl all over him, and forgetting the pain in his soul.

  “I really think…”

  She grabbed him by the belt on his cargo pants, and with a very light touch, she had him unbuckled.

  “Miss Shaw,” he said, unsure what to do. There was a part of him staring down her dressing gown at the big, lovely breasts, and a part of him thinking about Sarah.

  The only woman who ever told him she loved him. The only woman who, after six months, still had hope he’d come back to her. The only woman who protected his heart.

  Well, shit!

  This was bad.

  As Charlotte dropped to her knees, she flicked open his pants, and he actually had to stop her.

  “I can’t,” he said, moving away from her. Dakota had to put space between them. His dick wasn’t behaving, and his brain, the upper one, would be sure to follow his buddy.

  “Why not, cher? I haven’t met a man yet who is skittish when it comes to sex.”

  Charlotte stood, stripping out of her gown to stand naked before him. There was one hell of a snake tattoo wrapped around her body.

  Her very hot, sleek, sexy body.

  Someone liked snakes and ink.

  Jesus!

  He was going to listen to the saint in his head. What a freaking asshole.

  Dakota swallowed.

  “Miss Shaw…”

  “Come on over and pet my snake…or maybe that should be your line.”

  He moved around the table.

  “I can’t do this.”

  She blinked her very dark eyes at him. “Why?”

  “Because I’m in love with someone else, and I don’t want to hurt her by sleeping with you, and then hurt you by making this mean nothing to me.”

  That had her attention.

  She stared into his eyes.

  “Ah, your lovely Sarah.”

  He looked freaked out.

  “Cher, you’re in Nola. This is the home for the weird and freaky. What is she to you?”

  Tears actually filled his eyes.

  “My hopes and dreams. Things I don’t deserve to have, but surely crave for myself. I could have sex with you, Charlotte, but what would it mean?”

  “Fun,” she teased.

  “I’d have to let go of those dreams. All my life, I’ve put them last, including now while I’m here in New Orleans. At some point, I want to put them first. If I do this, I have to let them go. I have to let her go, and she’s all I have left of my soul.”

  She got it.

  It looked like a decent guy had crossed her path, and she respected that.

  “I tell you what. We’ll have coffee and some beignets. You’re buying. We’ll call it even.”

  He stared at her.

  “Seriously?”

  “Yes, and you can tell me about this Sarah. She must be special if you’re willing to give up sex and you’re not even married.”

  Yeah, that spoke volumes.

  He would give up sex with a beautiful, seductive woman to be with Sarah. He had to pray one day, he’d get back to her.

  Once Bonnie…

  His hopes were dying.

  “I’ll be right back,” Charlotte said. When she was gone, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. She texted him every day, and he couldn’t respond.

  His head wouldn’t let him.

  He read the last message from her.

  ‘I’m here at home, and it’s so empty without you. For days, I’d lie on my bed, smelling your cologne. I wish you’d answer me, so I could buy some. The scent of you is leaving, and that breaks my heart. I miss you, Dak. God. I miss you. Wherever you are, I still love you. I hope you’re safe. Come back to me one day. I’ll be waiting.’

  He wiped his eyes.

  And that was why he couldn’t have sex with a beautiful, exotic woman in New Orleans.

  Yeah, it had no ties, but to him, the ones that kept them bound were so strong.

  He had to have hope.

  Dakota wouldn’t give up.

  Not yet.

  Without hope, he had nothing left, and then why the hell was he even living?

  * * * H U N T E R * * *

  One of the things that Zayn really hated was when people thought he was some big, dumb wall. It irritated him. He didn’t like to be asked how the weather was up there, or where he got his shoes.

  Yes, he was big.

  But there was so much more to him than just that. Beneath the large Native man was someone who grew up poor, tormented, and an outcast.

  On his rez, most of the natives were short, chubby, and not anything like him.

  He stood out in a crowd.

  He was the aberration.

  Well, he was until he’d met Ethan Blackhawk and Callen Whitefox that morning. Until that moment, he’d been the biggest Native he’d known and it was always a burden. Now he saw that maybe being big wasn’t so damn bad.

  They carried it well.

  It could work to his advantage, especially when you were going to roll up on a suspect. He really needed this man to be scared shitless. They needed Cobb’s address, and they needed it fast. If someone would know where to find him, it would have to be his partner.

  So, at Levi Dickenson’s door, he knocked and waited. When the man opened, he didn’t give him a chance. He grabbed him by the neck, shoved a gun into his mouth, and got ready to do the dance.

  “Where’s Gus Cobb?”

  The man mumbled something so Zayn pulled the gun from his mouth.

  “If you’re lying, you’re dying.”

  “I haven’t seen him,” he said, as his eyes went huge from fear.

  “BULLSHIT. I know you know where to find him, Levi, so stop playing this game!”

  “I swear I don’t know! He’s not a ‘stay in one place’ kind of guy, and he certainly doesn’t give out his hidey-ho
le address to anyone!”

  Well, that Zayn could believe.

  He didn’t give out his either.

  “How do you reach him when you want to talk to him about a job?”

  “I call his cell.”

  Well, if that’s what he had to do…

  It looked like he had the next half of his plan.

  “I want you to call him, tell him you have a job you want to talk about and that it’s going to make you rich. Then get his address.”

  “BUT…”

  He put the gun back in the man’s mouth and hit the safety. The sound of the click was then followed by the man’s audible swallow.

  “If you don’t make the call and get me his address, you’re about to give ‘shooting off your mouth’ a whole new meaning, my very dead friend.”

  He nodded.

  When Zayn set him free, he picked up his phone and dialed his partner. As the native man listened to the whole conversation, he was pleased with how hard the man was working to get a location.

  “I need to see you, Gus,” he said.

  The man laughed over speakerphone.

  “Dude, I’m tied up.”

  He was laughing.

  Zayn had wanted Gus Cobb for a long time. He was suspected as one of the men who hurt his sister, and until that moment, he’d been chasing a ghost.

  He couldn’t wait.

  Levi began sweating.

  “We need to meet. What are you doing now?” he asked. “I can come to you.”

  Zayn nodded and patted the man on the head with his gun and hand.

  “If you come here, I’m planning on some young, rich pussy in a little while. I have her all set for the party,” Gus Cobb stated.

  Zayn thought back to the picture.

  Yeah, that was NOT happening to Stella Harrington.

  Over his dead body.

  Zayn had the overwhelming need to save her.

  “Can I get in on that after we talk business?” Levi asked, hoping the man beside him would let him live.

  “I’ll share, but I go first. I’ve had to keep my dick out of her, but she has such soft skin. I can’t wait.”

  “Great.”

  “You have to promise to be gentle,” Gus said, laughing. “I plan on keeping her to pimp her out. We could make a mint. We’ll put her on that boat of yours, and we’ll get some good money off the coast from all those horny sailors.”

  Zayn wanted to punch holes in both of them.

  That poor woman had to be terrified. He couldn’t let Cobb leave the area with her. If he did, she was as good as a sex slave in some sicko’s stable.

  He thought about his sister.

  It made him furious.

  “Yeah, we can do that. You know you can always borrow my boat.”

  Cobb rattled off his address.

  Zayn memorized it.

  “I’ll be there in a little while,” the older man stated, as the Native nodded.

  He cut the call.

  Zayn pulled out his silencer, screwed it into the end of his gun, and pointed it at Levi.

  “I helped you. You have to let me go. I’ll leave the country. I’ll disappear.”

  He laughed. “Oh, will you? There’s only one HUGE problem with that.”

  “What?” the man asked, shaking.

  “Well, you let them use your boat to do a ransom drop, right? You see, I was going to let you go today, but after hearing that, I can’t,” he stated. “You helped him in the abduction of three women. You’re a filthy animal. Women aren’t for trading and raping, Levi. They are for protecting and cherishing. You fucked up.”

  Well, that and so did he.

  This man could ID him.

  That was the real reason he was going to die. Zayn didn’t leave loose ends for a good reason.

  He was a ghost.

  “Please don’t! I won’t tell him…”

  He didn’t get to finish.

  Zayn pulled the trigger. It took one shot, and Zayn took care of business.

  The man slumped in the chair as the back of his head met the wall.

  It was done.

  Zayn was still pissed. If he had time, he would have worked the man over. He was thinking about that picture of the naked girl.

  She had to be so afraid. Stella had to be sick over what was happening to her. It reminded him of his own sister, and how someone had killed and defiled her life the same way.

  Yeah, Levi deserved it, and soon Gus Cobb would find himself alone with him too.

  Payback was coming.

  In that moment, Zayn was glad Ethan Blackhawk and Marcus Hunter had rolled into his life.

  He was getting revenge for his sister.

  It was worth it.

  Tucking his gun away, he headed back to their ride, and to go pick up his partner in this little crime spree. By now, Dakota should be done getting the woman off.

  Hopefully.

  No one wanted to owe Charlotte Shaw a favor. She was a snake in women’s clothing.

  And she was as dangerous as hell.

  * * * H U N T E R * * *

  The French Quarter

  When they had finished their coffee and beignets, he walked her back up to her apartment. While he knew they were in a time crunch, he didn’t want to owe the woman sex.

  Yeah, no.

  The entire time they’d had coffee, she smiled and asked questions about Sarah.

  He hoped she wasn’t trying to bait him for information. That was why he didn’t tell her she’d been his partner or her last name.

  He was protecting the woman he loved.

  He had to do it.

  Dakota owed her that.

  At the door, Charlotte gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you for the coffee and beignets. If you need anything, you may come back.”

  “I don’t think…”

  She stopped him.

  “I didn’t mean sex. That’s off the table now. Your heart belongs to someone else. I get that. I loved once too. I’m talking friendship. In this town, that’s more important than anything, Dakota.”

  He couldn’t help himself.

  “What happened to your heart?” he asked.

  She shrugged.

  “He walked away because he hated himself and what I reminded him of in life. He wanted that pretty package with the neat, clean bows, and life is seldom that pristine. My life was not what he wanted, and he chose to be alone,” she stated. “I don’t even know what happened to him. I hope he’s well, but then one never knows when you’re chasing demons.”

  Hell!

  He knew that personally.

  “That’s sad.”

  She agreed. “If you need any help, Dakota, you come see me. You almost took one for the team, but you protected your woman’s heart. That’s special and I respect that. I can sleep with anyone, but I can trust very few. You’re one of the good guys. I can tell.”

  She unlocked her door.

  “Oh, and Dakota?”

  He waited. “Yes?”

  “You know how much you love reading her texts. They get you through the night. Maybe you should give her one to get her through it too. She’s suffering. Sleeping with me would have hurt her, but ignoring her hurts her too. Do the right thing.”

  At first, her prophetic words caught him off guard.

  What the hell was this witchcraft?

  Then reality set in.

  He never thought about it that way before.

  Sarah was suffering, and she hadn’t given up hope. That was something special.

  “Answer her,” she said, as she pointed at his pocket. It beeped as if she had just done a trick.

  “Love is a beautiful thing. If she’s the one your heart was made to love, she’ll always be that one. Take it from me. It sucks to have a man walk away when you’ve shown him the real you. It’s a fate worse than death, and she’s suffering. Give her peace. Give her something to hold onto when she’s getting too weak to hold on.”

  “Thank you, Charlotte.”<
br />
  She smiled and then headed in, but before she closed the door, she stared in his eyes. “Don’t tell anyone I’m soft.”

  He laughed.

  “Or I’ll have to kill you, Mr. Rakin. Friendship only goes so far.”

  For some reason, he didn’t think she was kidding.

  At all.

  Chapter Four

  Saturday Late Afternoon

  W hen they all rendezvoused back at the house, they were each ready to do the job to get to the woman. Dakota was going to tail Rogue, making sure that the drop went down without a hitch, and Zayn was going in to get Gus Cobb and whoever he had. They were all hoping it was the girl in the picture.

  Until he went in, there was no way to tell if she was already dead or at death’s door.

  Time would tell.

  So far, she was the only one they’d seen in dire straits—other than the delivered finger from his wife’s hand. With no word on anyone else, they were assuming the worst-case scenario.

  They had to assume they were dead.

  This became about extracting the only ‘live’ person they had confirmation on—through the picture and what Cobb had said on the phone.

  When Dakota had caught up with Zayn, the man was grinning like a frat boy. He assumed Dakota had sex with Charlotte. Well, he was going to let him think whatever he wanted. He let him think that he’d slept with the woman.

  Honestly, he’d tossed him to the she-wolf—or snake. Let his imagination run wild. Dakota didn’t talk after sex. It was no one’s business but the two people doing the deed.

  So, they prepped for later by heading downstairs to the ‘dungeon’ to check it out.

  It was something—all right.

  There was actually a cell. What the hell was Callen Whitefox thinking when he was buying a house that this was one of his ‘wants’ on his home-buying list?

  Did he need a cell to be locked up to write?

  Talk about weird.

  “I don’t even want to know,” Dakota said, shaking his head. “Just what every home needs. A cell.”

  Rogue had an answer. “New Orleans had a lot of slaves. Clearly, whoever owned this home was wealthy. They would want a place to hold ‘troubled’ slaves.”