by Lane Hart
“Yes?” It was his standard greeting, but the single word set me further on edge.
“Who paid for the meal?” I demanded, asking in code to know who’d hired me to kill Stasevich.
He didn’t answer for a beat, probably because it was the first time I’d ever asked the question, but finally, he replied, “His boss.”
“The corporate big-wig?”
He hesitated again. “Yes, the top-dog,” he sputtered, caught off guard by my aggression. “You okay?”
Finn knew me too well. We’d been in the killing business together for too long. Forever it seemed. Before this, we were Marine Raiders—honorable men doing what we thought were honorable things. We hadn’t been much more than disposable guns for hire back then, either. Kill or get dead; it was still how we lived, only the pay had improved substantially and now there was no doubt, the people we killed deserved it.
But Finn had known me before the service. Before the killing. We’d known each other all our lives. Hell, we’d sprouted from the same goddamn cell. He was more than just my handler or associate, he was my brother and best friend. My twin. He could read my conflict like it was his own—most of the time, it was.
“Job’s done,” I answered. “I’m taking some time off.”
“A vacation sounds like it might be a good idea.”
“Right. Vacation. You know… maybe you should take one, too. Somewhere tropical. Hot sun, surf, and girls. Get lost for a while.”
“If you insist.”
“I do.”
Our coded conversations sometimes felt like overkill, but not this time. I needed to be sure my brother was watching his back. I didn’t think the Russian’s threat was an idle one. They’d be looking for me. That meant Finn would be in their line of fire.
Finn was older than me by seven minutes. He organized the jobs and took care of my finances, but I looked after him. Always.
We’d always avoided unneeded risks, keeping ourselves well concealed and the criminals we worked for in the dark. Finn was the face of the business, although that face was rarely seen. He made the deals and collected the cash, but no one knew his identity. They didn’t even know he existed. Every one of our business associates thought they were dealing directly with me. None of them knew I had a twin.
What started as a short-term solution, had turned into a long con. We’d never intended to stay in this business, but now that we were in, there didn’t seem to be a way out. The work was never-ending.
Hidden identities kept us safe, but it was my control at all costs that kept us alive.
I planned on keeping it that way.
“Bodhi?” His voice was steady, but I knew he was worried. Finn always worried. “You going to tell me what happened?”
“Go enjoy an island for me. I’ll come find you when I’m ready.”
I disconnected the call, wincing as Sunshine tugged hard on my last stitch. “I didn’t hear a word,” she assured. “But you know, he’s going to have a hard time leaving the country without you.”
“He’ll be fine,” I insisted, taking a long sip from my bottle.
My sister gave me a skeptical glare. “When was the last time Finn was anything close to fine?”
Despite her occasional involvement, my sister wasn’t part of my business, and she didn’t know our brother the way I did. Her nursing skills did come in handy from time-to-time, though.
Sunshine was a lot like me and Finn. Smart, controlled, and calculating. We were all good at keeping secrets, and great at bottling our emotions—traits that made it easy for me to be a killer, for Sunshine to be an ER nurse, and for Finn to become a ticking time-bomb of mental instability.
She swabbed antibacterial ointment over my freshly patched up wound. The damage was worse than I’d expected, needing seven stitches to close the deep slash left by the Russian bullet. I was happy to have her help. Stitching myself was never fun.
“You going to tell me what’s really going on?” she asked, taping a strip of gauze over her work.
Shrugging into my shirt, I pushed away the gnawing uneasiness. “Not a chance.”
“You’re not going to call me back tomorrow to do more of this, are you?”
“No, smart-ass, didn’t you hear? I’m taking a break.”
She packed up her make-shift surgery kit as I stood, catching my reflection in the nearby hallway mirror. The dark circles and lines under my eyes made me look like an insomniac. Truthfully, I could use a vacation. I couldn’t even remember when I’d last had down time. The Stasevich job had kept me busy for weeks, but I hadn’t slept more than four hours a night for months. Maybe years. The tired eyes and hints of silver at my temples had developed gradually. Still, I was shocked to see myself looking so worn out.
I was only thirty-seven, nowhere near old, but suddenly I felt it. There was an ache in my bones. It could’ve been from my years as a Marine, or maybe my Daredevil-style antics in the years since, but I thought it had a lot more to do with finally having a worthy opponent—a woman who could land me on my back in a single move. I hadn’t had any decent hand-to-hand combat practice in years. Winding up on the ground with her on top had been jarring. But hell, I’d kind of liked it.
My sister sighed when she saw me running my fingers over my grey spots. “I think the three of us are genetically programmed to work ourselves to death, but you’re the worst. I know you’re not going to take a break. Same way I know Finn’s not going to be all right on his own.” She reached up and in a rare display of emotion, ran her own fingers lovingly over my hair. “You’re always so busy taking care of him. I wish you’d take better care of yourself.”
“I told you, Finn’s going to be fine. And I am taking a break.” I held her hand to my mouth, kissing the back of it. “You two will to have to look after yourselves for a bit.”
“I always take care of myself, thank you very much.” She swiped the bottle of bourbon from me, raising it up in mock salute before taking a healthy swig. “But you’re lying,” she accused, cringing from the burn of the liquor. “The only thing that could force you to take a break is a woman, and I doubt you’ll ever slow down long enough to find one.”
Flashes of a lean, leather-clad body and deadly golden eyes tripped through my mind. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.” I stole the bottle back. “But you don’t know me as well as you think. I’ve already found myself a woman.”
“Really?”
“Really.” I smiled—the first real one in forever, it seemed. “In fact, I’m going to chase her down right now.”
Sunshine smirked back. “You’re not going to kill her, are you?”
Bodhi
“Your name, Sir?”
“Corbin Smith,” I drawled my alias to the door attendant. Checking the Rolex on my wrist, I emphasized my boredom with his existence. “Guest of Tess Kraemer.”
I was in full disguise, dressed in a custom tailored, three-piece suit that fit my broad shoulders and lean athletic build to perfection. I’d topped it off with a black silk tie, diamond encrusted cuff links and the shiniest shoes a man could buy. I’d even rented a Lamborghini for the evening—bright yellow.
My rich, douchebag persona was in full effect.
“Thank you, Mr. Smith.” The attendant marked my fake name on the list. “Ms. Kraemer arrived ten minutes ago, she’ll be waiting for you inside, sir.”
“Perfect.”
Perfect and easy.
I strolled past two armed men who were stationed inside the entrance, seemingly without a care. The elevator chimed as I stepped on, alone.
This game of the upper class was one I rarely played, but I played it well. Hiding in plain sight was my specialty, after all. Yet, despite my normally steadfast confidence, I was feeling unsteady.
It’d been four days with no contact from Finn. I shouldn’t have expected to hear from him, but he’d always checked in, even without my asking. It was unnerving to think of how badly things could go wrong. What if Sunshine was right? W
hat if he wasn’t okay on his own?
What if I wasn’t?
I hoped my instincts were wrong and Finn was busy having the time of his life. Or at the very least, getting loaded alone on a beach somewhere, making regrettable choices he wouldn’t remember later. If things went according to plan, maybe I’d be able to join him before the week was over. Maybe that vacation could be real.
But first, I had work to do.
I’d gone hunting for a wildcat and come up with a treasure trove of scintillating information. Unfortunately, I still had nothing on the woman I was looking for. Three days of playing spy while staying off the Russians’ radar, and I hadn’t uncovered a single damn detail about her. I’d searched every dark corner and looked under every rock, but the only thing I’d found was Bowen Alexander.
To the public, Alexander was a businessman and philanthropist. His pharma company, BTA Xander, had launched a campaign to end cancer. They were on the cutting edge of research and drug development. Each year, they gave away hundreds of thousands to hospitals and private clinics. His generosity knew no bounds.
To the underground, he was just another dark and corrupt motherfucker.
What I’d found hadn’t surprised me—he’d been on my radar before, most recently when he’d hired me to kill the scientist. The man was one of the most crooked I’d ever seen. So dirty, he was eyeball deep in shit. I didn’t want to wade into it with him, but he was the best lead I had. The only lead I had.
Tonight’s event was a fundraiser, hosted by Alexander’s wife. The whole thing was a goddamn farce. The dinner alone cost enough to feed a small country, and I had a sneaking suspicion that the money raised would somehow find its way back into Alexander’s pocket.
I hated this crowd, but I needed answers, which meant I’d need to play along for the night.
Two more armed guards greeted me when I stepped off the elevator and into the penthouse foyer. Ignoring them, I sauntered into the party.
“You made it!” Tess called, her eyes lighting up at the sight of my façade.
“I did.” I offered her my arm, which she promptly latched onto with both hands.
The great room was decked in wall-to-wall glitz and glitter. Money practically dripped from the ceiling. Still, with all the finery, the room was full of filth. The private guest list included the wealthiest businessmen, politicians, and celebrities—all of them, thieves, liars and whores.
Of course, I hadn’t been invited, but that’s where Tess had come in.
Tess Kraemer was a celebrity reporter with a talent for writing fluffed up articles that made even the worst criminals look like choir-boys. She had a strongarm over public opinion, and the underbelly of New York loved her for it. And she loved me—a rogue bad boy who gave her wads of cash in exchange for her connections, and occasionally showed her a good time in the sack. She’d been an ace in my back pocket for years now.
“I wouldn’t leave you high and dry,” I reassured her.
She laughed, knowingly. “I’m happy you called.”
“You mean you’re happy to take more of my money.”
“Whatever.” She rolled her heavily made-up eyes. “I hate coming to these things without a date.”
“I’m sure you wouldn’t have been alone for long. You look fantastic.”
It was true. Her blond hair was expertly styled, her ample curves were highlighted by her tight, red dress, and her surgically enhanced cleavage—that I’d helped pay for—was on full display. She was plastic, but still a knock-out.
“Thank you.” She smiled as she hugged closer, pressing her curves to me. “You look quite appetizing, yourself.”
“Nice of you to say, lovely. But don’t forget, tonight’s strictly business.”
“I know. It won’t stop me from flirting with you, though.” She giggled loudly, drawing the attention of every man within earshot.
I smiled, knowing my plan was on track.
“Have you seen him?” I asked quietly.
Tess hummed her confirmation. “Dead center.”
Scanning the room, I took note of the men with concealed weapons, posted at each doorway. There were guests scattered everywhere. A young, intoxicated-looking couple were playing a drinking game and making out in a small lounge area, to my right. The rest of the party were on their feet, talking and dancing. All, except for the hostess, who was nowhere to been seen. Her husband, on the other hand, was easy to spot.
Bowen Alexander was in the center of the room, exactly as Tess described. He was a charmer, laughing loudly with his million-dollar smile poised for seduction. Only, it was clear, he was the one being seduced. The most powerful man in the room looked like a dog on a leash, wagging his tail for the woman effortlessly leading him.
The wildcat.
She was here. And she was stunning.
Her hair was an ebony flow, her eyes were a fiery storm, and her graceful form was showcased in an elegant black dress which dipped dramatically low in front and slit indecently high on each side.
The room seemed to pitch and spin as I watched her enchantment. She was a gravitational force, pulling in those around her, including me. I was mesmerized. Her magnetic beauty grabbed me by the balls and sent my heart on a wild race to leave my body.
My vision narrowed as my priorities reset on her—my new objective.
“Bodhi, did you hear me?” Tess nudged my side, breaking the spell.
“Corbin,” I reminded. “Yes, I heard you, and I agree, time to introduce ourselves.”
Without making our destination obvious, I guided Tess through the party-goers. We accepted glasses of Champagne from a passing server and stopped to briefly chat with a power-couple who were eager for Tess’s attention. Their conversation was banal, but I lightly entertained it as I kept watch over the wildcat and her company.
When they were unexpectedly joined by Benny Gallo, my racing heart seized.
Gallo was a Mafia underboss with a dark and bloody reputation. No one who crossed him lived, at least, not pain free and not for long. Seeing him leer and slobber over the wildcat put me on edge.
My carefully crafted control was already close to slipping, but when she offered her hand with a sly grin, I thought I might lose it completely, especially when she moved her sultry eyes back to Alexander.
And he eye-fucked her in return.
My blood pressure spiked. Didn’t she know who these men were, and what they were capable of? Why the hell was she offering herself up like a rapists’ buffet?
“Excuse us,” I rudely interrupted, pulling Tess away from her useless conversation. “It’s time,” I urged in her ear.
Unperturbed by my harsh tone and firm hold, she glided along beside me. Professional as always, Tess was spot-on with the deception, treating it like it was her mission, instead of mine.
Hell, if I didn’t think it would give Finn an aneurysm, I’d put her on my payroll full-time. She was good at this shit.
“Bowen,” I called. It was a bold move to approach Alexander so informally, acting like I’d known him for years. “How’d you get wrangled into hosting another fundraiser?” I offered him my hand, forcing myself to ignore the beauty at his side.
Accepting the handshake, he measured me with knowing eyes. The look he gave warned he wasn’t a fool. “Honestly, I’m not sure.” He smiled tightly. “I just write the checks.”
“Ah, so your wife’s punishing you for something, eh?” I chuckled.
Gallo’s booming laugh was an assault on my nerves and startled the people around us. “I like this guy,” he praised, slapping Alexander on the back. “What’s your name, son?”
“Corbin,” I provided, shaking his hand. “Corbin Smith.”
Daggers were shot at me from gleaming, golden eyes. The wildcat had let her demure composure slip and her hostility was peeking out, but maybe I was the only one who could sense it, since it was all aimed at me.
“And who’s this vision?” Gallo asked, turning his attention to Tess and her c
leavage.
“My apologies. This is my date, Miss Tess Kraemer,” I offered.
When Tess offered her hand, Gallo wasted no time. He pulled her forward, out of my hold, bringing her hand to his lips. “Your girlfriend?” he asked, with his mouth brushing her skin and his eyes still glued to her chest.
“No, just my date for the evening.”
He grinned. “So, no objection if I borrow her for a dance or two?”
“I don’t see how one or two could hurt.”
If there was an objection, it should have been from Tess, but she continued playing decoy without complaint. She met Gallo’s vulgar stare and agreed, “I wouldn’t mind.”
Wildcat, on the other hand, had let more of her mask fall. She looked utterly disgusted by our show of misogyny. Couldn’t say I blamed her, the scene made me feel sick as well, but I wasn’t about to let my feelings show. Hell, I pretended not to have any. Pretended so damn hard, I’d convinced myself it was true.
“Maybe we could trade,” I suggested, finally allowing my gaze to land solidly on her. “But you haven’t introduced us to your date.”
Gallo’s jowls wobbled as his loud bark of laughter rang out once again. “This one insists she’s flying solo tonight.” He hitched his thumb at the wildcat with a sarcastic jeer, as though her independence was an oddity barely worth tolerating. “Although, our friend Bowen was intent on convincing her otherwise. You might have to fight him for that dance.”
Turning to Alexander, I smirked. “I’d rather fight with her, I think.”
Gallo’s laugh was raucous, but it didn’t detract my attention from the cold stare of Alexander, or the deadly gaze of the wildcat, still without a name.
“Come, Tess,” Gallo urged, tugging on her hand. “We’ll leave these three to duke it out.”
“Have fun.” I bent to kiss Tess chastely on the cheek. “But not too much,” I warned.
It was unnecessary. Tess had played in these circles longer than me and was well versed in slimebag. She knew how to keep herself safe. She’d hit the dance floor with Gallo, but she’d leave him there—on his ass if required.