by Kim Linwood
30
Nora
“We can’t stay here,” Payne says, turning away and buckling his pants.
I’m busy letting the bed hold me up, the ache around my wrists not burning nearly as hot as the ache between my legs from when I went temporarily insane. Maybe it’s not even temporary? I should be terrified right now, instead of just confused.
What the hell happened to my life?
“Nora?”
Payne. Payne happened.
“Hey, you in there?” He taps my leg. “Not to ruin the moment, but we need to be gone.”
“We?” I pull my shirt down. The shock that has kept me quiet frays at the edges and gives way to anger. “You’ve got to be kidding me. I should be arresting you, not running away with you.”
At the exact same moment, we both make a grab for my gun. I roll right out of bed in a move more instinctive than planned, landing on the floor with a hip jolting thump. Payne’s faster. My fingers close around air as he scoops up my Glock and tucks it behind his back.
He doesn’t get mad. He grins. “Nice try.”
I pull my pajama pants on with a sigh. “Yeah, yeah. You’re bigger, stronger and faster.”
“Am I going to need the ropes again?”
I think he’s kidding, but an eager note in his voice makes me unsure. An image of myself trussed up on the bed at his mercy flashes through my head. “No! No, of course not.” The sensible thing would be to calmly convince him to leave me here, but the way his eyes smolder when he notices my hesitation leaves me speechless.
He grins. “Definitely later, though.”
“No, not later either. How do you think this is going to work? I’m a cop and you’re…” I don’t even know what to call him.
“I like to think of my work as freelance conflict resolution.”
I stand up and pull my hair back into a hasty ponytail. “That sounds nice, except your conflicts are people, and your resolutions are guns. You were a SEAL! How did you even end up”—I swallow hard and bite the metaphorical bullet—“a killer?”
Payne’s cheek twitches slightly when I say the word, but he looks me straight in the eyes. “Just so we’re clear, that isn’t the only service I provide, but it is one of them. I’m sorry if it doesn’t fit into your orderly little law-abiding world view, but it’s who I am today and it’s who I’ve been this whole time.”
The jumbled pieces of my mental puzzle start slotting into place, and I don’t like the picture that’s emerging. “No, but you… wait—” I stare at him with wide eyes as realization strikes. “You were going to kill Trabucco. It was you, wasn’t it? Oh my God.”
His silence is damning.
I grip my dresser for support as I reconsider everything that’s happened since we met. “You used me.”
“Yes.”
Neither the glib lie I expected, nor the honest denial I’d hoped for. Just… yes.
We watch each other. Something in his face makes me think he wants me to fight him. He expects me to push him away and hate him for who he is and what he’s done. In a strange way, knowing that makes it easier not to.
And I don’t. I hate what he does, but I can’t bring myself to hate the man standing in front of me just because the darkness I knew was inside him is darker than I was expecting.
I nod. “That makes sense.”
“What?” Payne’s eyebrows do their best to burrow together over his nose.
“It still sucks to be me,” I clarify. “But in your position it makes perfect sense. I must have seemed like a big slutty Christmas present practically dropped on your doorstep.”
He shifts nervously. “Can we just get out of here? It wasn’t like that, but we don’t have time to stand around and hash it out while who the fuck knows is trying to track me down.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Am I making you uncomfortable? Tough. That makes two of us. Here’s how I see it. They’re going to track you down, Payne. I swear I won’t say anything. The alderman’s safe. The shooting this morning will go down as just one more mob hit and you’ll be long gone. Just go.” The words stick in my throat, but this isn’t a movie and I don’t see how I can stay who I am and still drive off into the sunset with a confessed killer.
Pulling himself to his full height, he stalks right up to me, pinning me against my dresser. “They won’t forget that you were a part of this, or that you might be a way to get to me,” he growls. “I’m not leaving you behind, so I’ll make this easy. The only thing you need decide right now is if those pajamas are what you want to get kidnapped in or not.” He nods at me and I tug at my shirt self-consciously.
“Seriously?”
“As serious as a bullet in our fucking heads because we sat around picking out clean socks and talking about our feelings while the Mafia—who know where we live—want us dead. Now put on some goddamned jeans.” He’s nearly yelling by the end.
“Fine!” Angrily, I push him away and grab the first clothes I find, glaring while I pull them on. “Could you?” I twirl my finger to indicate he should turn around.
“Not a fucking chance.”
“Yeah, didn’t think so.” With his back turned, I’d probably have whacked him in the head with something. Which just goes to prove my survival instincts have taken an unexpected vacation. “Tell me this at least. This thing you do. Do you like it? Is that it?”
“It’s something I’m good at.” His expression is cautiously guarded.
“Right, but I bet you’re good at all sorts of things. Do you enjoy the… killing?” I can barely say the word.
He shakes his head and a tiny piece of the barbed wire around my heart eases. “It’s never been about killing. In the Navy,” Payne hesitates. “In the Navy I learned that sometimes to keep one person safe, another has to die. It’s not usually about the person who dies. It’s about the ones who don’t.”
“But this isn’t the Navy. You were going to kill my boss. What was that for? Who were you saving?” I wiggle into my jeans while keeping a skeptical eye on him. “Explain this to me so I get it, because I understand hard choices. You think I’m naive? My father is in a wheelchair and we still don’t know what happened because the investigation is classified. I don’t even know if it was one of our bullets or one of theirs that did it.”
“Nora—” Payne reaches for me but I slap his hand away.
“Don’t interrupt me. I—”
He grabs me, twisting me around and holding me to his chest with a hand over my mouth. “You asked me a question. Are you going to let me answer?”
I grumble behind his fingers.
“I’ll take that for a yes.” His grip loosens, but he doesn’t let go. “You’re right. This whole job has been a shitstorm from the start. I should never have come here. When I got out of the service, I was in a shitty place and got mixed up in some nasty business with an old friend.” He pauses. “Acquaintance, at least. Anyway, the marks were scum, and it was easy to go from ridding the world of one type of enemy, to a slightly different one. My job wasn’t so different from yours, except I cost the taxpayers less money. It’s not like I go around shooting deadbeat husbands for their insurance payouts.”
I cough and tap my foot. He slowly lifts his hand like he’s expecting me to scream. “So why didn’t you do it?”
“Trabucco?”
“Yeah.”
Payne lowers his head to my shoulder, his breath warm against my neck. “I’m getting out of that business. In part because of you, but maybe not why you think.”
“How do you see this going? Because I can’t… be together with a murderer, but I can’t be the reason you stop, either.”
Love conquers all sounds very romantic, but at the end of the day, the changes we make for ourselves are the strongest.
“You helped me stop and think. Falling in love with you hasn’t changed who I am, Nora, but it’s reminded me that I’m my own person, and I need to get back to a place where I like that person again.”
Falling in
love with you…
My heart drops into my feet and the arm he has across my stomach suddenly feels so much warmer and heavier. “Payne—”
“Don’t interrupt me,” he growls softly into my ear. “I’m never going to be that guy who works a nine-to-five and comes home to watch football and mow the lawn. Whatever I do end up doing will probably scare the shit out of most women, so I need you. Don’t you see? I need someone who can make me hot chocolate when it’s cold and aim a gun at my head when I’m being an ass.” He twirls me around so that his deep green eyes bore into mine. “Come with me.”
It’s official. Against all reason, I’m hopelessly in love.
And I’m about to do something really crazy.
31
Payne
“Nora.” Mr. Rodriguez nods politely to my girl as he steps into the elevator behind us, saving the nasty side-eye for me.
It’s bad enough that I’m locked in a tiny mechanical box with two other people, but I’m still half expecting Nora to make a break for it. The truce we came to in her apartment seems unlikely to last once her initial shock wears off, but I’m hoping to get at least a couple days of asphalt behind us first.
Instead of say, her screaming “Help!” in an elevator with a witness.
She shifts uncomfortably, and my hold on her arm tightens. Nora huffs and looks up at me. “Relax.”
I’ll relax when we’re out of town, and my vehicle’s traded in for a less conspicuous ride. Old habit had me arrange a safe house to make a switch at, in case the hit turned sour. I think we can safely say it did, and now every second counts. The more time we waste, the lower our chance is of getting out of here without adding to the body count, and while Nora’s being remarkably understanding, I think that would be a difficult pill to swallow.
We hit the ground floor with a rattling thump. Mr. Rodriguez tries to wave us ahead, but I nod for him to walk out first, then we follow. The whole time, I keep a hand on Nora’s elbow. Loose enough to seem casual, even though I’m feeling anything but.
Winter smacks us as soon as we open the doors, lung-searingly cold, but clear. Nora huddles into her coat, letting me steer her quickly around the corner.
“Where are we going?” she asks, keeping her voice down.
“Away. It’s safer if you don’t know any more than you have to. The car’s parked around back.”
“My parents are going to freak out. You met them. You know it’ll happen.” She shoves her hands deep into her pockets. “Plus, Captain Palmieri isn’t just going to forget I exist.”
“People vanish every day and the world keeps spinning.” Walking around on the open street is making my skin crawl. I just want to be gone. “I’ll arrange something for your parents once we’re in the clear, but your boss can go fuck himself for all I care.” I’m sorry for what this will do to her parents, but Palmieri put her directly in the line of fire and the only thing keeping me from checking out if he’s involved is lack of time.
Nora opens her mouth, but closes it and shakes her head, saving her argument for later. That head butt must’ve really rattled my brain, because she’s cute even when she’s probably plotting against me.
The lights on my car flash as I unlock the driver’s side. Nora starts to head around to the passenger side, but I open my door and fold the seat to let her in. “Get in the back.”
She puts her hands on the frame, holding back when I try to push her in. “Why?”
“Because it’s marginally harder to pop open the doors or fuck up my driving from back there.”
“Don’t you trust me?” Nora looks up at me with those big brown eyes that seem so innocent.
“Not even as far as I can throw you. Now get in the car.” The street still looks clear, but I can’t exactly haul her off her feet and toss her in the back without at least a few people noticing. “I’d prefer to do this without getting the ropes involved.”
“You wouldn’t… right?”
I cock my head and wait.
“Oh, fine.” Nora ducks her head and slides into the back.
My fingers feel the loss of connection as she moves out of my reach. I make a fist to keep from reaching out. Forcing myself to get in and start driving is hard when what I really want to do is keep touching her to reassure myself that she’s actually here.
Things go wrong before we’re even at the end of the street.
A truck pulls out right in front of us, blocking our way. “Fuck!” I tap impatiently on the wheel and wait, but it doesn’t budge.
“Maybe they’re stuck?” Nora’s head pops out between the front seats.
There’s a sinking sensation in my stomach. Every instinct screams against what I’m about to do, but I’m stuck down a one-way street and another car just pulled in behind us so I can’t gun it in reverse.
“Stay in the car.” Shit. I make a split second decision and hope I won’t regret it. “There’s a latch under my seat. As soon as I open the door, I want you to duck down and hit it. It’ll open a compartment with a loaded revolver. Stay low. This could be nothing, but we’re sitting ducks if it isn’t. Do what you have to do.”
Nora’s face is white as a sheet, but she licks her lips nervously and nods. I don’t trust her not to cause me endless trouble, but I’ll trust her with my life.
Or maybe I just think hers is worth the risk.
The only musical accompaniment I have when I step out of the car is the rush of blood in my veins and the thudding beat in my chest. The usual noises of the city—honks, screeches, the rumble of the subway beneath our feet—all fade into the background, muted as my world becomes nothing but my immediate surroundings.
I don’t look back. Each step towards the truck stretches the invisible band between me and Nora, but I can feel it like a golden chain around my heart.
It shatters with the first gunshot.
My heel slips on the icy street as the truck suddenly roars to life and peels out with a squeal of tires. I dive behind a row of recycling containers, trying to pinpoint the shooter. There’s a scream behind me and another shot, this one closer.
Inside my car.
“Nora!” I yell, moving low along the street, fast but not fast enough.
The car that pulled in behind us rams into the back of my Camaro, then throws hard into reverse before popping up onto the sidewalk. The fit’s so tight it clips my mirror as the generic-looking black four-door follows the truck out into traffic.
I rush back to my car, slamming my fist into the roof when I find it empty. There’s a tear in the seat, and probably a bullet in my trunk, but what makes my world turn black is the smear of sticky red blood across the window.
32
Nora
“The bitch fucking shot me, Vinny!”
Someone kicks my chair and I rock to the side, tipping precariously. The cloth in my mouth muffles my scream as I strain to right myself, but with my arms and legs bound, there’s nothing I can do to keep both me and the chair I’m tied to from hitting the ground hard on my side. My head knocks against the floor, and despite my blindfold, I’m seeing stars.
My eyes have been covered since they grabbed me from the back of Payne’s car, so I have no idea where I am, aside from in seriously deep shit.
“Oh, c’mon. Now look what you did.” There’s a deep, masculine grunt from the one I guess is Vinny, as I’m lifted off the floor, chair and all, and smacked back down upright.
“She shot me!” the whiner snarls.
“Your shoulder’s almost stopped bleeding already. Stop being a baby.”
I was in the backseat and getting my hands on Payne’s gun while he went to check on the truck. I’d been too focused on him, and missed these two who’d crept up behind our car. There’d barely been time to react, but at least I managed to wing one of them. Serves him right.
After that, things get fuzzy. Probably something to do with the painful throbbing in the back of my head.
Where’s Payne? There was another shooter, but
I was taken before I could see what happened. He could be lying dead behind a dumpster right now, or dying.
No.
I refuse to believe the worst before I have proof. He used to be a SEAL. He can take care of himself.
That doesn’t make him bulletproof.
Thinking like that will only make things worse. I have to worry about me now. Who has me? What’s going on? Payne may or may not come to the rescue, but my odds are better if I can make something happen myself.
Why did they capture me? They didn’t just shoot me, so there has to be something they want. Here’s hoping they need me in good shape for whatever it is.
I take a deep breath and try to push down how helpless I feel without my sight.
Okay, concentrate on things I know.
This wasn’t random. I don’t know what their plan is, but they definitely targeted one or both of us specifically, so my bet is on pissed off mobsters. There are at least two men in the room with me, and a couple more had to be there when they snatched me. I don’t know where I am, but it hasn’t been long enough to be far out of town. I listen for sounds of traffic, or anything else that might help me identify where I am, but I hear nothing.
Footsteps. Muffled, as if through a wall, but getting louder. The click of a latch as a door opens, and then they’re in the room with me. Someone’s come in, bringing the total of other people in the room to at least three. Crappy odds, because I really doubt that whoever the newcomer is, they’re company I want.
Forcing my breathing to slow down, I run meditation drills in my head. I need to be calm, and ready. Every muscle in my body is primed to move if I get the chance, but I need to stay centered and not waste energy on struggling or panicking
The footsteps come closer. Too sharp for a sneaker, but not loud enough to be dress shoes. “Wakey, wakey, sweetheart.” The voice sounds from right in front of my face, mocking and oily. “I’ve got a job for you.”
Right, like I’d been sitting here taking a nap.