by Tate, Harley
“This is my house. I do what I want.”
“Oh, so you’re the personal trainer. I should have known.” Nick ran his tongue over his lip, smearing the blood. “What’s it like to hit that Latina hottie every night? She give as good as she looks?”
John dropped his arm and Raymond advanced, landing a swift boot to Nick’s gut. The man gurgled and choked, blood bubbling from his mouth.
“T-torturing me’s worthless and you know it.” Nick coughed and a wad of red phlegm landed on the floor. “You want to get your rocks off, fine, use me as a punching bag or whatever. But I’m not going to tell you anything you don’t already know.”
Raymond readied for another kick, but John palmed his chest. “He’s right.”
“Don’t touch me.” A vein throbbed in Raymond’s neck as he stared John down.
The last thing he needed was a throwdown with Raymond. Not now, with Nick and whoever else might be tracking them still in play. John lifted his hand. “Nick’s seen more combat than you can imagine. Hand-to-hand combat, gun fights, you name it. He’s also one of Dane’s best operatives. You’re not going to get anything out of him.”
Raymond fumed, lips pressed so tight together the edges signed white.
“Besides, you need to be out there.” John jerked his head toward the woods outside. “Until I find out more, we have to assume someone else is coming. There could be another guy out there in the woods, waiting until we’re vulnerable. You need to be our first line of defense.”
It took a full minute for Raymond to agree. At last, he stepped back. “Fine. But if you even so much as think about helping this guy—”
“Understood.” He waited until the front door slammed before reaching out and righting Nick and the chair. If telling him the truth meant nothing, and beating him only made it worse, the only way left was to play the friend. John glanced at the door and lowered his voice. “You okay?”
Nick eyed him.
“Sorry about the punch, but I knew they were listening.” He eased down to sit on the edge of the bed. “You said it yourself, those girls are no match for any one of us. But according to that redheaded nitwit out there somebody’s dead?”
Nick motioned toward his arms, still not buying the transformation. “You take this tape off and I’ll tell you all about it.”
John did as he asked, pulling the duct tape off his arms and legs.
“Thanks. That crap was itchy as all get-out.” Nick settled into the chair, sliding his arms up and down until he found a comfortable position. Only then did he offer an explanation. “Dane made me take Simmons.”
“The new guy?”
“Said he needed to be the lead, thought he could handle a couple broads and a teenager.” He shook his head in disgust. “How wrong he was.”’
“You knew I was here, though, right?”
Nick nodded. “You were my target. Simmons was on point for the others. He had this stupid idea to show up at the cabin, pretend to be a lost hiker. Thought he’d get in their good graces like you did. Maybe get a little somethin’ somethin’ before he snapped their necks.” Nick rolled his eyes. “Amateur.”
“So how—”
“Did I get shot?” He glanced down at the blood crusting over his shirt. “That little ginger piece of yours is a terrible shot. Pretty sure she aimed for my heart, barely got my side. Woke up with a splitting headache and all this shit. So here I am. All thanks to Simmons.”
“Where’s he?”
“Dead, the lucky bastard. Now he won’t have to face Dane and his disappointment.”
It was the last thing John wanted to experience as well. After all he’d done, if the man ever laid eyes on him again… “Dane will kill me.”
“That is the plan, my brother.”
John held his head in his hands, partly for show and partly in horror over the past and the future.
“What the hell happened? Why didn’t you just take her out and move on? You’ve always been so dependable. So solid.”
John glanced up at Nick before turning to the window. “Blame the EMP. First, I got stuck in the elevator with Emma, then ended up driving her to Zach’s place. When we got there—”
Nick whistled. “Heard about that one. Willy left that place a mess, man.”
John flicked his head back to Nick. “Did you say Willy?”
Nick nodded. “Who else could shoot up a house in the middle of the day and not end up wearing a toe tag in the morgue?”
John exhaled. It was as bad as he’d feared. “Is he still in play?”
“Last I heard, ol’ pops had him back at the ranch, keepin’ close in case shit got real.”
“You mean with the EMP?”
“Naw. I mean this contract. It’s way bigger than you know, man.”
“But with the grid collapsed and the chaos out there—”
Nick shrugged. “Don’t matter. Dane says they’ll pay us however we want—houses, cars, land, even women. Anything we want as long as we fulfill the contract.”
John had never heard of something so outrageous. “How many hits are outstanding?”
“Including your two?” Nick counted up in his head. “Nine. A couple in D.C. hit some snags when the city went into lockdown.”
John’s eyes widened. “D.C.? You mean there’s government targets on the list?”
“Some senators, I think. Not my marks, not my problem.”
Nick motioned to his wrists. “You gonna cut me loose or what? I knew this had to be an act. Get all chummy with these suckers so you can get what they’ve got.” Nick looked around. “Sweet cabin. And their vehicles are totally solid. Even that dog’s got potential. You should have seen him attack Simmons.” He nodded as a grin spread across his face. “You could retire here real nice, man.”
John nodded like that had always been the plan. “Seems like the best idea, with everything that’s happening out there.”
“You should see LA. Place is lit up like a firefight at night. Fires everywhere, looting like crazy. It’s worse than any war zone we ever saw.”
“Heard from any of the guys?”
“Dane said a couple are MIA. Donnie’s got that kid now and Trevor’s engaged or something ridiculous. They dropped off when the grid collapsed. Thinks they’re in the wind.”
“And he’s okay with it?”
“Hell, no. But this contract’s got all his attention. He’s not going to rest until it’s fulfilled.” Nick leaned forward. “I heard they promised him his own private island.”
John stood and walked behind Nick. “That was always Dane’s dream, to be king of somewhere.”
“And now he’s gonna get it.”
John sucked in a deep breath and steeled himself. “Not if I can help it.” He wrapped his arm around Nick’s head, applying pressure to his neck. Nick fought but it was useless. With his arms restrained, he couldn’t do a thing. John leaned in close enough to whisper. “I’m not going to kill Emma or Gloria and neither are you. Dane isn’t going to get his island. I’m done being his lackey. His errand boy for everything dirty and cruel.”
Nick squirmed in the chair.
“If you can’t let it go, then I’ve got no choice. I’m sorry, brother. But I’m done following orders.” John increased the pressure, cutting off the blood supply to Nick’s brain. Within thirty seconds, the man John used to trust with his life was limp and unconscious once more.
Chapter Nine
Emma
The door to the bedroom opened and Emma lifted her head. John emerged, head bent, eyes trained on the floor.
Emma’s heart lurched. “Did you—” She faltered. “Did you kill him?” She didn’t know why it mattered. What was one more dead body? One more dead hitman.
To anyone else—someone logical and cold and rational—ending that man’s life was the only answer. But for Emma, the thought of more senseless bloodshed, more death because of her… it turned her stomach.
John stared back at the bedroom door as if to answer
for him. “I—I couldn’t—” Without another word, he tugged open the front door. Sunlight striped the wood as he disappeared outside into the afternoon sun.
Emma stared after him. He couldn’t do it? She stood on shaky legs, bracing her body weight on the kitchen table. With a deep breath, she took first one step and then another, willing back the vertigo and exhaustion threatening to overwhelm her. Emerging into the sunshine, she shielded her eyes with her good arm as she wavered on her feet.
“You should be inside.” John leaned against the porch railing, staring out into the forest.
“I’m fine.” Emma wobbled as she crossed the porch to mimic his stance. With both hands gripping the railing for support, she turned to study his profile. “It’s you I’m worried about.”
He twisted to face her, expression grim. “You’ve lost a lot of blood, Emma. You need to rest. Stay inside and take it easy. You don’t need to check on me.”
“Quit deflecting.” Emma’s temper flared at the brush-off. “You’ve suffered worse and I don’t see you complaining. I’m not a child or some delicate flower to put in a vase. I took a bullet, so what?”
John turned away, but Emma reached out and grabbed his arm. “Tell me what’s going on.”
He stared at her fingers as they dug into the black cotton of his sleeve.
“Please, John. Talk to me.”
His shoulders slumped. “Nick and I go way back. We served in the same battery, were even roommates for a while. After we were discharged, he was one of the only guys I kept in regular contact with until Dane came along.”
Emma swallowed. “You’re friends.”
“As much as one can have a friend in this line of work, yeah.” He looked up to the sky as if it might have an answer. “I don’t know if I can kill him. I just don’t know.”
Emma dropped her hand. It was one thing to ask John to protect her from nameless threats, but to ask him to kill someone he counted as a friend... She chewed on the inside of her lip, researcher brain whirring. “What if we reason with him? Convince him not to tell Dane we’re here?”
“Nick’s too loyal. He’ll never give up on the mission.”
“There’s got to be a way to change his mind.”
John shook his head. “Dane promised them all some crazy payoff. If they keep working despite the grid collapse, then they can have anything they want.”
“What?” Emma screwed up her face. “That makes no sense.”
“Tell me about it.” John glanced back at the cabin where Nick remained imprisoned. “Dane thinks he’s getting his own private island.” He snorted. “For his sake, I hope it’s full of wild bananas.”
Emma reached for John again, but dropped her hand as he turned to face her. “There’s got to be a way to convince Nick. Maybe show him what it’s like out there. Explain there’s no way CropForward can deliver.”
John stilled. “I don’t think CropForward’s behind this.”
Emma stepped back. “What are you saying?”
“There’s more than you and Gloria on the list. Eight total, according to Nick, that are still in play.”
“We weren’t the only employees making noise. Some of the guys in engineering, they—”
“Senators, Emma. There are elected officials on the list.”
She shook her head. “That’s impossible.”
“Nothing’s impossible for the federal government. Haven’t you followed the news? We might be withdrawing troops from places like Afghanistan, but that doesn’t mean we’re leaving. The government is just paying private contractors to do the dirty work. Men like me and Nick.”
“I still don’t believe—”
“Then you better start, and soon. The faster you wise up to the enormity of the threat, the better off you’ll be.” John took her by the uninjured shoulder. “If the government wants you dead, I don’t know if I can stop them.”
She shivered in his grip. “Can’t you explain all this to Nick? Get him to help you instead of Dane?”
John dropped his hand. “Maybe a few years ago, sure. But not now. Like I told you before, I do this job from a distance. No up close and personal, no getting to know my marks. That makes me a lone wolf. A solo artist.”
“You and Nick?”
“Haven’t spoken in years until today.” He pinched the back of his neck and focused on the mountains in the distance. “He was my friend, but he doesn’t owe me anything. Not now.”
Emma followed John’s line of sight to the mountain range shrouded in clouds across the valley. The haze might as well have wrapped around her head and heart. She couldn’t ask John to kill his friend, but he couldn’t stay alive. She took a deep breath. “I’ve already killed one man today. I can kill another.” As soon as she uttered the words, she knew they were a lie.
“No, Emma. You shouldn’t have to. Nick is my responsibility. I need to be the one…” John trailed off, unable to utter the same untruth as Emma.
They stood in silence for a minute or two, both staring out at the clouds obscuring the scenic view as they wrestled inner demons. At last, John spoke up. “I need a gun. If I have a gun, I can do it. I’m a good shot, it doesn’t need to be close range. I can pretend he’s just another mark.”
Emma pressed her lips together. The handgun belonging to the man she killed dug into her hip bone, wedged beneath the waistband of her dirty dress pants. While John had been inside the bedroom, Raymond insisted she take it. She’d protested, arguing that the last thing she wanted was to shoot another person, but Raymond refused to budge.
She reached for the weapon now, hesitating as her fingers grazed the cold metal. “Are you sure there’s no other way?”
John shook his head. “I can’t kill him with my bare hands. It isn’t right.”
Emma pulled the gun free as the door to the cabin swung open.
“That won’t be necessary.” Raymond stepped forward and plucked the gun from Emma’s grip before John took it.
“Why not?” Emma stared up at him in confusion.
“Because he’s dead.”
Emma’s eyes widened. “Did you?”
“Can’t say I had the honor.” Raymond glanced back toward the open door. “Think the poor guy’s stomach wound was worse than we thought. Internal bleeding most likely. Died in his sleep, the lucky bastard.”
John spun around, hand on his head. His shoulders heaved and Emma turned back to Raymond. “You need to lighten up, Ray. He was John’s friend.”
“I don’t care if he was a long-lost brother. He tried to kill Gloria. Almost succeeded. He deserved worse.”
John spun, anger flaring behind glassy eyes. “So, Nick’s no good because he tried to kill your wife, but all those people in the Walmart, the ones who are already desperate? Those are just helpless souls you can try to save?”
Raymond lifted a brow. “I don’t see how the two are connected in any way.”
John rolled his eyes. “You wouldn’t, would you? Give those people another week or two, let the real pangs of hunger set in and they’ll be ten times worse than Nick or Simpson or even me. They’ll come for you any way they can, and it won’t be a bullet to the brain. It’ll be a hell of a lot worse.”
“I know you have no faith in humanity, being a hired killer and all, but I don’t share your same analysis. Most people are good, even when faced with a bit of hardship.”
“It’s easy to think that way when times are plentiful. But when everything goes sideways, it’s not the neighbor who mows his lawn every Saturday and lends you a cup of sugar when you ask that you want by your side. It’s men like me.”
Raymond stepped closer. “I will never want men like you by my side. No matter how terrible it gets. As far as I’m concerned you should be bleeding out just like your friend in there.” He jerked his thumb toward the cabin.
John grumbled a curse and stormed past Raymond to duck inside.
Emma pinned Raymond with a disapproving glare. “You didn’t have to be so excited the man wa
s dead.”
He shrugged. “Can’t help it.”
“You should try.” Emma pushed past him, irritated and annoyed at his continued inability to give John a chance.
While they had talked outside, Gloria and Holly had made their way to the kitchen where cuts of meat lined the counter. Gloria stood over a metal smoker as she wiped it down with paper towels. She smiled as Emma walked in. “We’re about to fire this up and start preserving this meat. Want to join?”
Emma opened her mouth to agree, but John cut in. “It’s not safe here.”
Gloria glanced at Emma. “What do you mean?”
John tore a hand through his buzzcut. “You might have neutralized the threat today, but Dane won’t quit. He’s going to keep sending men until no one’s left. The payoff is too high, and the client is too important.”
“What are you saying?”
John exhaled as Raymond stepped inside the cabin. “I’m saying we need to leave. Today.”
Chapter Ten
John
“What do you mean, leave? We have everything we could possibly want here.” Raymond tapped his fingers as he ran off the list. “Food, water, energy, seclusion. If we pack up and leave, half of our supplies have to stay behind.” He shook his head. “It will be suicide.”
John didn’t respond right away. He didn’t know how to make sense of anything. He didn’t know how to convince these people what was in their best interest. He turned to Emma. “You know I’m right. If you stay here, more men like Nick will come. They won’t stop for anything. Dane will make sure of it.” He stepped closer to her. “I might be able to fight the first few off, but at some point, one of them will win.”
He spun on his heel, taking in the hardened scowl on Raymond’s face and the doubt coloring Gloria’s cheeks. He threw up his hands. “Is that what you want? You want to stay here in your little compound, ticking down the minutes until someone puts a bullet between your eyes? Because that’s what’s going to happen. You’re sitting ducks.”
Raymond began to protest, but John talked over him, throwing his arms out for emphasis. “If Nick and Simpson tracked you down here within hours, someone else will be sure to follow. Someone who won’t be so easily conquered. Dane will call in the big guns.”