In His Sights

by Nikita Slater

  In His Sights

  Book 7 of Fire & Vice

  Nikita Slater

  Copyright © 2018 Nikita Slater

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author except in the case of brief quotation embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  Sneak peek: Fire & Vice Book 8 – Burning Beauty

  Excerpt: Fire & Vice Book 4 – Savage Vendetta

  Bonus: Excerpt from Scarred Queen

  Also by Nikita Slater

  Stay connected with Nikita!

  Nikita’s Underworld!

  Prologue

  I didn’t deserve the love of a good woman, but I took it anyway. She thinks this is our love story. It’s not. This is the story of my revenge against those that dared to touch what was mine.

  She’s bent over, on her knees in her flower bed planting motherfucking petunias around my bunker to make it “prettier.” I should stop her. It’s a fucking bomb shelter, meant to protect us from the war that will inevitably land on our doorstep. Not to mention, the flowers sort of give away its location. She may as well post a sign and add some fucking Christmas lights. But I love my naïve little idiot too much to tear up her precious flowers. I’m surrounded by them now. She’s determined to take everything ugly out of my life and fill it with beauty. All the empty liquor bottles are now filled with dirt and have flowers sticking out of the ends of each one.

  It amazes me that she can even function after what the cartel did to her. They fucking buried my beauty. Literally buried her in a hole, in the ground. When they realized who they’d snatched, the war they’d end up starting, they tried to rectify their mistake in the most horrific way possible. If I hadn’t gotten to her in time...

  I would’ve killed every single one of those fuckers, then everything they loved until Mexico was nothing but a sea of blood. Then I would’ve crawled into her grave and held her until the reaper embraced me too.

  Instead, only the ones that snatched her and their associates had to die. Nobody fucked with what was mine. They all thought I was an alcoholic loner, broken down ex-military bounty-hunter. Now they know just how much I own this city. Own their secrets.

  I didn’t deserve the love of a good woman, but I took it. This is not our love story. This is the story of my revenge on every fucker that hurt the woman I love.

  Chapter One

  “Wow!” Lucy dropped the plastic bag containing all of her worldly possessions and shaded her eyes so she could stare straight up. “Holy cow!”

  Jane laughed and stepped up beside her, hands on her hips and a smirk of amusement playing about her lips. Coming from the same background as Lucy, she understood the younger woman’s astonishment. “You talking about Boris or the mansion?”

  “Both, I guess…” Lucy trailed off taking in her temporary new home, which was easily the biggest house she was likely to ever step foot in. It came complete with the biggest man she’d ever seen, standing in the doorway, watching them closely.

  “Is he going to eat us?” she asked timidly. He truly did look like he could consume a couple of mid-sized women for lunch. Jane was feisty and fast, which meant Lucy would be the appetizer if he came after them.

  Jane chuckled. “Just don’t call him the butler and you should be fine.”

  The giant lumbered down the stairs toward them, muscles rippling under his shirt, tattoos flashing in the sunlight. Lucy’s eyes widened and she began backing toward the SUV. Maybe if she locked herself inside she could convince Jane to take her back to the farm. She was beginning to think city life wasn’t for her. Not if men and houses looked like this.

  “Jane Sitnikov,” he rumbled in a deep voice, thick with a Russian accent, “you are late.” His words sounded accusing though his tone was warm with affection.

  Jane rolled her eyes and waved his words away. “We had to stop a few times along the way for food and leg stretches. I didn’t want my sister to start her year of freedom hungry and all bent up from hours of travel. I assume my husband is annoyed?”

  Boris nodded. “His stipulation on your going alone to pick up Lucy Miller was that you go straight there and come straight back, no breaks, no leg stretches.”

  Lucy watched them with curiosity, her fear of the giant man starting to recede when she saw the sparkle in his eye as he spoke and the clear attachment he felt for Jane. Her sister was not the easiest person to get along with, yet this man seemed to enjoy sparring with her and was giving her a warning on what to expect from her formidable husband. Lucy’s heart began to warm toward him.

  She stepped toward him and stuck her hand out. “I’m Lucy.”

  He stared down at her and then gave her a broad, toothy grin. “Of course you are, pchela,” he agreed kindly, engulfing her hand in one of his own bucket-sized hands. “Welcome, Lucy Miller, it is good to have you here.”

  She was immediately disarmed by the terrifying Russian who released her hand and bent to pick up her plastic bag. He ushered the two women inside and tossed Jane’s car keys to another man, ordering him to park the vehicle in the massive garage she’d caught a glimpse of as they’d rounded the huge, curved driveway. Clearly her new brother-in-law didn’t do anything small when it came to his property.

  “You’d better go in and soothe the beast,” Boris said to Jane. “I will get your sister settled in her new bedroom and then bring her down to meet the Boss.”

  Jane grumbled something impolite, gave Lucy a quick pat on the shoulder and disappeared into the darkness of the mansion. Lucy gaped after her, staring around at the heavy furnishings with awe and the severe sense of being a fish out of water. She’d never seen anything like… well… any of it. She clutched her stiff blue smock and held on for dear life. It was the only thing familiar to her as she navigated a new world filled with things she was both terrified of and dying to see.

  Boris led her up the ornate staircase, down a long hallway and into a gorgeous, expensive room, unlike anything she’d ever seen before. Her heart beat faster as she moved into the room, her fingers automatically reaching for the plush duvet. Unable to resist after just one touch, she dropped down onto the bed heaving a sigh of sheer bliss as
her butt sank into the mattress.

  “Wow…” she whispered.

  Boris’ chuckle drew her attention back to the doorframe and she felt the heat rise to her face to see him standing there waiting. “Uh, I just need a few minutes to change,” she glanced down at her outfit, a uniform smock dress of dark blue that covered her from neck to wrists to ankles. It had never bothered her before. She looked like some variation of every other woman in the Amish community she grew up in, but the further away she travelled, the more she noticed other women and the way they dressed. Nothing like her. Jane had provided her with a few items until she could go out and shop.

  Boris nodded. “I will be right outside when you’re ready to go back down to your sister.” He spoke in a quiet, kind voice as if sensing her fear of this new world.

  Lucy wanted to explain to him that she wasn’t a fearful person. Not normally. She was just out of her element. She needed to gather new experiences. Assimilate. She had no doubt she would be completely fine once she figured out how and where she fit into this new world.

  As soon as Boris closed the door behind him, Lucy began digging through the garbage bag. She pulled out the pair of jeans and sweater that Jane had brought for her. They would be slightly small since Jane was smaller, but she would manage. After she changed into the strange and uncomfortable clothes she wandered toward the window and peeked out at the magnificent manicured back lawn.

  “Wow,” she said again, for about the fiftieth time since leaving the farm. These people really didn’t do anything understated or small.

  As she stared out the window, Lucy’s thoughts drifted to Mack Hudson. For four months, she wrestled with banishing the man from her brain; banishing the kiss he forced on her in the shadows while her family had been at a gathering. The traditional Amish girl in her knew she should hate him for causing her to feel things she didn’t want, but he’d woken something in her. Maybe she would get to see Mack while she was in the city. See if reality lived up to memory. And if it didn’t… well… she was certain there were plenty of other kissable men willing to banish Mack Hudson’s image, more than willing to experiment with her.

  Something caught her eye. Lucy had good eyesight, so she knew she wasn’t seeing things when she spotted a man with nearly as many tattoos as Boris, stalking along the perimeter wall with a gun slung over his shoulder. She tilted her head and watched until he disappeared from sight behind a row of tall hedges.

  It was then that Lucy began to wonder who exactly her brother-in-law was and what kind of adventures she might have in the next year. She turned away from the window and headed for the door. “Welcome to Rumspringa, Lucy Miller,” she whispered to herself.

  Chapter Two

  6 weeks later

  Hard to fucking concentrate. It was hot as motherfucking Hades in Rayong, Thailand and all Mack could see was a pair of gorgeous melted caramel eyes every time he tried to do his job. Those eyes, that perfectly curved body, the woman. She was like a ghost that hadn’t left him in four long months. It didn’t make any damn sense. The harder he tried to shake her, the more entrenched she became.

  He’d done the right thing. He’d walked away from her. The woman was too young, the sister of his business partner, Jane. His crazy-ass married-to-the-mob business partner. He’d done the right thing by leaving Lucy Miller in her happy, innocent little world, with her puppy-like fiancé who would probably worship the ground she walked on for the rest of his life.

  Then why the fuck couldn’t he get her out of his head?

  He knew better than to let his thoughts dwell for too long on any single woman. He was letting his cock do the thinking. Hadn’t he learned this hard lesson with his cheating bitch of an ex-wife? After she left him more than ten years ago, he’d gone to a dark place, taking risks with his life on a regular basis. For years, his life had consisted of drinking, shooting and chasing bond jumpers. Mack had always been reckless, but after Daniella destroyed what little peace he’d found in life, she also took the remnants of his humanity. Mack lost himself in the bottle for years, until the births of his niece and nephew along with healing time started to pull him back out of the darkness. An innocent like Lucy would’ve been horrified if she’d met that Mack. Hell, she was terrified of the Mack she’d met a few months ago, probably never wanted to see him again.

  Even the beautiful and treacherous Daniella hadn’t held his thoughts or attention for this damn long. Seriously, what the fuck was wrong with him? Was Thailand getting to him? He hated this damn country. It was hot and humid as fuck. The few people that cared about him didn’t even know he was here. If his client double-crossed him, he could die in this shit-hole and no one would know – not his partner, not his sister, Tawny.

  Mack checked his watch and frowned. Thoughts of Lucy had distracted him enough. He forcibly shoved the beautiful, young Amish girl from his head, rolled onto his side and propped his rifle up on the notch he set up. He was on the fourth floor of a building across the street from an upscale apartment complex. Sweat trickled down the back of his neck, tickling him before soaking into the back of his T-shirt. He ignored the annoyance as he made slight adjustments to his scope, training his weapon on the sidewalk across the street where the politician’s car would pull up within the next half hour.

  Emptying his brain of everything but the kill, Mack did what he did best. He waited. And he hunted.

  He was glad this job was almost done. He needed to get home. Check in with his partner, see how business was going. The bounties would be piling up. These side jobs were fun and lucrative. Kept him sharp, but he needed to finish up and get his ass back on the home front. Make sure his sister was keeping out of trouble. And, if he were being completely honest, see if Lucy Miller was finally in the city. He was ready to admit he’d failed at keeping her out of his thoughts. He needed to see her again. See if reality lived up to the memory. He suspected reality was going to be worse. Because this time he wasn’t going to let her go. Now that she was on his turf, she wouldn’t be leaving to run back to her safe little life with her safe little boyfriend. And this was probably going to cause problems with the Russians, seeing as how she was protected by them.

  The mark chose that moment to appear, cautiously stepping from his building onto the sidewalk. Mack didn’t hesitate. The moment the guy’s head was in his sights, he pulled the trigger. As the man went down in a spray of blood, a boom echoed off the surrounding buildings. Mack rolled onto his back, his nimble fingers automatically pulling apart the pieces of his rifle.

  His brain drifted from this kill onto other, prettier prey. She’d been in his sights from the moment he set eyes on her. Like her older sister, yet softer, less resilient. He’d thought about letting her go. Letting her run. But that was the problem with the hunter inside him. He loved the chase too much. As soon as she tried to run, she’d become his.

  Fuck the Russians. Mack had been had been laughing in the face of death for years, he was up to the challenge.

  “Hmmm…” Lucy thought out loud surveying the scene in her tiny kitchen, hands on hips. Fresh-baked muffins, check. Pretty, homey-looking rugs covering every scarred surface of the floor, check. Inviting looking bed in the corner, check. She was all set for Mack to show up “out of the blue” and check on Jane’s apartment.

  Jane had warned her that Mack Hudson would likely stop by that evening when he noticed someone living up there. Apparently, he was dropping some work stuff off for Jane in the office below the tiny apartment and he had a key. Lucy had rushed home to set her plan in motion. She hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him and hoped that if she lured him in with baking and a few other tricks, she’d be able to get him to kiss her again.

  That kiss had occupied her thoughts long enough. She needed a do-over to see if her memory was playing tricks on her or if Mack Hudson was everything she thought he was. At the time, he’d told her he was teaching her a lesson about sneaking around in shadows with boys because he’d caught her kissing Matthew. Then
he’d told her he would teach her what it was like to be kissed by a man. Boy, did he ever! She hadn’t thought about much else since.

  Now she wanted more of those kisses. Because Matthew’s arms and lips hadn’t been even close to satisfying since she’d experienced the hard rush that Mack had thrown at her. She closed her eyes and ran her hands down her body with a sigh. Nothing had come even close to what Mack had done to her that day. Did he even know how badly he rocked her world? Had she done the same for him?

  Lucy picked up a strand of her long, light brown hair and sniffed it. Did she need a shower? She’d been scrubbing her apartment and baking all day. She didn’t really want Mack kissing on her if she smelled bad.

  “Oh gosh, when will he be here?” she asked out loud, her eyes popping open in sudden panic. She began stripping off clothes as she ran for the bathroom.

  She scooped up her iPhone because she’d very rapidly learned how useful that device was in this modern world, and rarely showered without it. As she adjusted the temperature settings on her temperamental shower, she shot a quick text off to the super sweet Russian bodyguard that stayed outside her apartment to watch the building and asked him to let her know when Mackenzie Hudson showed up. Oddly he didn’t text right back. She hopped into the shower, a favourite Amish song on her lips as she scrubbed her hair.