by Cynthia Eden
“They aren’t here,” the stranger snarled at him. “I was told that Kat and her bodyguard were here.”
Joey’s gaze flew around the room. Empty. “H-how long was I out?”
“Where the fuck did they go?”
“Do I look like I know?” Joey shouted back, then he wished he could take those words back because the man in front of him looked so enraged. “Oh, damn, mister, just settle down. Just—”
“No cars are in the parking lot. Did you have a car here? Did they take it?”
He had no idea if they’d taken it. “Y-yeah, yeah, I-I had a car here. My baby was—”
“What does your car look like?”
“She’s…a little rusty. Dark blue. Sedan from the 90s, but that engine can purr—”
The gun fired. Joey didn’t even scream. The bullet slammed into his chest and it felt like a ball of fire hit him. The pain was instant and consuming and his body slumped.
“That’s what you get,” the man rose. Shook his head. Dropped the gun.
Wait…that is my gun. He shot me with my own gun.
The shooter’s gloved hand caught Joey’s chin. “You’re gonna die. So if you believe in God, this is when you should start praying.”
Joey didn’t have time to pray. He didn’t even have time to beg.
Chapter Twelve
“Where the hell did you learn to drive like that?”
Kat’s hands tightened around the steering wheel. She’d gotten them away from the rundown motel and far, far away as fast as she could. She’d stayed on back roads. She’d pushed the old sedan and stroked her like a rock star, and now they were safe. For the moment, anyway. They were hidden on a dirt road in what she figured had to be the middle of nowhere.
She turned and gave Rick a slow smile. “The man who taught me how to drive used to be my dad’s best getaway guy.”
“Fuck. Of course, he was.”
“I’ve always thought I’d be a great race car driver.” She considered it. “Any chance Witness Protection can set me up with something like that? What do you think those odds are?”
“Right now, I just want you to live long enough to get to the courthouse.”
His curt response had her heart squeezing in her chest. “Are you sure this is a safe place to stop?” While she’d been driving like Vin Diesel, he’d been barking out directions to her. She’d followed his orders because trusting him was the only option.
And…she did trust him. When had that happened?
“Yeah. It’s safe. For the moment. We can’t keep running blind. I need to check in with Cole and figure out what’s happening.”
She knew what was happening. Kat was being hunted.
“Come on. Let’s get out. Stretch our legs.” He shoved open his door.
Kat followed suit. The sunlight hit her hard, and she blinked a few times. “We should get another car. Switch it out.” Switch cars, get new plates. Keep moving. Always keep moving.
Her gaze cut to Rick. He had the burner phone up to his ear. Checking in with Cole. The one who wanted Rick to learn all of her secrets. She didn’t exactly get the warm and fuzzies whenever she thought of Cole.
Her gaze slid around the area. Trees surrounded her. Birds were chirping. Everything looked so incredibly normal.
But she was terrified.
***
Cole put the phone to his ear and turned away from the Feds—and the Atlanta PD. “Mom,” he said loudly as he spoke into the phone, “I’m at work. No, I can’t talk right now. I don’t care what’s wrong with your computer…” He walked toward the motel room door, but his gaze darted back to the body.
Jesus.
The kid’s shirt was covered with blood. A typical result when you were shot in the chest at point blank range.
“Mom, give me a minute. Give me just…” He hurried outside. “A minute.” Cole’s breath heaved out. Okay, it was still not safe to talk freely because there were a few uniform cops around, but he casually strode away from them and jumped into his car. He slammed the door shut. Once Cole was certain that he wouldn’t be overheard, he snapped, “Man, we have a fucking huge problem.”
“Yeah, we’re being hunted down like animals. That is a problem.”
“Tell me you didn’t kill him.”
“What?”
“The guy at the motel. I saw the marks on the door. I know he shot his way inside your room, and if you shot him back, if you had to return fire, then it’s self-defense. I get that. Just tell me what went down.” He pulled in a breath and tried to think through the situation. “We can fix this. Hell, right after I found the body, I called Eric and he’s already getting that criminal defense buddy of his—Kendrick Shaw—on standby for you. We’ve got this—”
“Cole, what in the hell are you talking about?”
Cole’s fingers tapped over the top of the steering wheel. “I’m talking about the dead body in room seven at the no-tell motel. The guy soaked in blood because he took a gun blast straight to the chest. The fellow sporting a busted lip and swollen face. Fuck, the cops have their crime scene team here.” A pause. “Tell me that they won’t find your DNA on him—”
“They’re gonna find my DNA on him. If that’s Joey you’re talking about…” Rick’s voice was thick. “My DNA will be on him.”
Joey? “Shit. Okay, you need to come in.” Exactly what Eric had said to Cole less than ten minutes before. Get Rick’s ass in. “We need to clear this up.” He glanced back at the motel. “At least Detective Layla Lopez is here. We’ve got a friendly cop who can help to make sure you don’t get your ass immediately tossed into a cell.” Hopefully.
“Listen to me, Cole. I didn’t kill that guy. When I left him, Joey was unconscious in the motel room. Unconscious, not dead. Kat saw everything. She can back up my story.”
This was bad. So bad. “What in the hell happened?”
“The motel desk clerk—Joey—he shot up our door and rushed inside. He’d called some cousin of his because the bastards hunting Kat have spread word to look for me. Joey was planning to hold us there until the people with money came to take me off his hands. I didn’t feel like staying, so I knocked his ass out.” A sigh. “I’m guessing whoever shot Joey didn’t like it when he arrived and found that Kat and I were gone.”
Didn’t like it? “Serious understatement.” Cole’s temples were throbbing. “You have to come in, man. Dammit, you left condoms here. I saw a crime scene tech bagging them.”
“Fuck.”
“Yeah, obviously, you fucked and got fucked because your DNA is going to link you to the room, to the dead guy, to all kinds of shit. Come in. Eric will get Kendrick Shaw to go with you to the station. We’ll talk all of this out, and hopefully, keep you out of jail.”
Silence.
Cole’s gaze darted to motel room number seven. A woman with dark hair and wearing a stylish white shirt and elegant black pants stood close to the door. A badge was clipped to her hip, and a holster rested under her arm. Detective Layla Lopez searched the parking lot. It didn’t take long for her attention to land on him.
Wonderful. His windows weren’t tinted so Cole knew she could see him as he huddled on his phone. He tried for a casual wave.
Layla immediately headed for him.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck me to hell and back.”
“Cole. Calm your ass down.”
“I am calm! Layla is stalking toward me right now. A dead body is in your motel room, and you are about to go down in flames.” He blew out a breath. “Go to the Wilde building. Eric wants you to meet him there.”
“What about Kat?”
“We’ll deal with her when you get there!” Layla was closing in fast.
“She’s in danger. Her enemies have already gotten inside Wilde once before. If I bring her back, hell, I could be handing her to them on a silver platter.”
“And if you don’t come back, you’re screwed. You’ll be a wanted man, and I’m not just talking wanted by the mob. The cops will be af
ter you, too. Everyone will be after you. She’s not worth it, buddy. That woman is not worth your life.”
Layla’s knuckles tapped on his window.
“Get to Wilde,” Cole rasped. “As fast as you can. Eric and I will make sure you’re taken care of.” He ended the call. Shoved the phone under his seat and opened his car door.
Layla stepped back.
“Detective Lopez!” He tried going the formal route since he wanted to get on her good side. Now didn’t feel like the moment to press the friend/good acquaintance angle. “I stepped out of the motel room because I didn’t want to get in the way of your fine team’s work. I have to say, I am so glad you were the one assigned to investigate this—”
“Drop the BS. You requested my presence when you called in the dead body.” Her head cocked as her hands went to her hips. “What’s going on?”
His lips parted. Okay, what can I tell her?
“Don’t bother bullshitting me. I know Kat O’Shaughnessy is involved.”
“You do? How do you know that?”
“Because I’m good at my job. Because I know the mob is looking for her and I also know…” She pointed to the left, toward a uniform who paced near a crying, red-faced man. “I know the vic’s cousin is spilling his guts because Quincy over there has never actually seen a dead body until this morning. He’s a young punk playing in a league that is way, way over his head. Quincy thought he and his cuz Joey were going to get some fast cash and gain some street cred. Quincy didn’t realize that in the new game he’s trying to play, people will die.”
The vic in the motel room had looked so young…
“Someone roughed up Joey Lucas. Joey’s the dead guy, by the way. Joey has a busted lip, maybe a broken nose, and swelling on his face. He was obviously punched before he was killed, so someone was probably torturing him for information. My techs are searching for evidence, getting DNA, and I’m hoping for a hit in the system.”
She might get a hit, all right. Cole slammed the car door shut. “About that…”
Layla’s eyes narrowed. “My day is already shit. Do not tell me—”
“It is about Kat O’ Shaughnessy. You were right on that score.”
She waited. He was pretty sure she started tapping her foot. He didn’t look down, though.
He held her gaze. “Rick Williams is with her.” She knew Rick. He was hoping that familiarity would help everyone. “He’s keeping her safe.”
“If Rick and Kathleen O’Shaughnessy witnessed the murder, I need to talk to them. Now.”
Working on that. He winced. “Things are a little tricky…”
Layla took a step toward him.
And a silver SUV pulled up at the scene. Her head turned as she stared at the vehicle, and when two guys in suits stepped out—
“Feds.” Layla shook her head in disgust. “Coming to try and take over my scene?”
He recognized the two agents. Bryan Brisk and Tom Wayne. He’d first seen them at Wilde because he’d been the agent to escort them out of the building the night they’d come to drop off Kat. Bryan Brisk’s face was shadowed by stubble, and his jaw was clenched as he approached.
“Someone is a little late to the party,” Cole muttered.
Bryan and Tom glared at him. Then Bryan demanded to know, “Where in the hell is Kat O’Shaughnessy?”
***
“If you don’t come back, you’re screwed. You’ll be a wanted man, and I’m not just talking wanted by the mob. The cops will be after you, too. Everyone will be after you. She’s not worth it, buddy. That woman is not worth your life.”
Cole’s words replayed in Rick’s head as his fingers tightened around the phone. He breathed slow and easy as he tried to figure out a way to escape this nightmare. Turning Kat in wasn’t an option for him. If he turned her in…
She’s dead.
“What did your partner say?” Kat crept toward him. She bit her lower lip as her gaze darted over his face. After studying his expression, she winced. “It was bad. I can tell. Really bad.”
Understatement. “Joey is dead.”
She didn’t react.
“The kid who came into our motel room, gun blazing?” Rick prompted. “Joey. He’s dead, he’s—”
“How?”
“Blast to the chest. Cole said the cops are at the scene now, and shit, both of our DNA is gonna be everywhere.” Especially his DNA. He’d driven his bare fist into the guy’s face and had felt Joey’s lip bust beneath the impact. “The cops will link us to him.”
“But we didn’t kill him! We left him alive.” Kat shook her head. “He was supposed to live.”
“Yeah, well, I’m guessing the people looking for you didn’t appreciate arriving to find that we’d gotten away again.”
Her eyes closed. “He’s dead because of me.”
“No.” Rick surged forward. His hands circled around her wrists. “No, Kat. Dammit, look at me.”
Her eyes opened.
“He’s dead because he was playing a game with the mob. Because he was ready to sell you out and sell me out. He wasn’t some innocent—Joey came in with a gun and he was shooting.”
“He didn’t know the people he was tangling with,” she whispered. “I know them. I’m the reason for all of this, I’m the—”
“Joey died because he was greedy. He wanted money. He died because of his choices, not yours.”
She yanked her hands from him and stepped back. “My choices led to all of this, don’t you see that? I’m the one who went to the Feds when my dad died. I could’ve just kept my mouth shut. I’m the rat, I’m the one who—”
“You are not!” Fury exploded from him. “You’re trying to do what’s right. You’re trying to shut those bastards down. I get that you grew up in a life where you didn’t talk, where you kept the mob’s secrets, but baby, you know they are monsters. You know this has to end. You are doing what’s right and good because you are good.” Once more, he reached for her. He kept his hold easy, gentle, because she deserved that. “God, princess, you are so good. You’re the one who was begging me not to kill the jerk at the motel even though he was more than ready to kill us. And don’t buy the BS he spouted about only trying to hold us there. He rushed in—shooting a gun. He waited until the other motel guests were gone so there would be no witnesses. He was ready to kill you, and you were still fighting for his life.” Rick shook his head. “You do that, don’t you? You fight for other people. Over and over again.” He could see it now. He could see her. “Who fights for you?”
Her lips parted. “Rick—”
A twig snapped.
Every muscle in his body clamped down.
It could have just been an animal. A squirrel. A raccoon. They were surrounded by the woods on that old dirt road. When they’d been driving, he’d been giving Kat directions because he had a final destination in mind—a place that had to be safe. A place no one else would know about.
But…
Her body pressed closer to his. She’d gone quiet at the snap, too.
Everything seemed to have gone quiet. Even the birds weren’t chirping.
We were followed. Somehow, they’d been tracked. He’d looked back as they’d driven to make sure no cars shadowed them. He’d given her twists and turns to take, just to make sure they weren’t tailed. But someone out there was very, very good.
He motioned to the car. “Get in,” Rick told her.
She nodded.
He pulled out his gun. He’d had it shoved in the waistband of his jeans, so it was close and ready. Rick put his mouth to her ear. “If I’m not back in five minutes, leave.”
Kat began to shake her head.
Keeping his voice a whisper, he told her, “If anyone comes out of those woods but me, leave.”
He needed her to follow his order.
Kat gave a grudging nod.
You’d better follow that order, sweetheart. He held tight to his weapon. He was a big freaking guy, so most people thought he probably mad
e a lot of noise when he moved around. But he’d been trained by the best. Rick knew how to move without making a sound. Someone was in those woods. Watching. Hunting.
Rick was going after the bastard.
***
Kat slid into the car and locked the doors. Shit, shit! Her heart raced in her chest as her breath heaved out in frantic puffs.
It was just a twig snapping. Just a twig. There’s probably some squirrel out there laughing his ass off because he was going about his business and grabbing some nuts and two humans freaked out.
Only…she was more than freaked out. She was terrified. The guy at the motel was dead. How many people were going to have to die before this nightmare ended?
Rick can’t die.
The idea of anything happening to Rick had pain shooting through her. She needed to help him. He thought that she’d simply drive away and leave him? No. Not going down. But if things got bad out there, she’d need some kind of weapon.
She reached for the glove box. Rick had searched it earlier while she was driving, and Kat remembered seeing—yes! A screwdriver. Her fingers curled around the base of the screwdriver as she yanked it from the glove box. In a pinch, this thing would work wonderfully. Now, to help Rick.
She turned toward the driver side door—
And she opened her mouth to scream when she saw the man standing there.
Chapter Thirteen
He tapped his gun against the glass of the window. Just tapped it. All casual-like. Kat knew that if he wanted to shoot her, he could.
He wasn’t shooting, not yet.
Then he pointed to the lock. Tapped again with his gun.
Oh, right. Kat knew how this worked. She was supposed to be brought in alive. So the man with the gun was probably going to try and avoid shooting her in the head right then and there.
Her right hand slid the screwdriver down low in an attempt to keep it hidden. Kat didn’t think he’d seen it yet. That was good. Her left hand unlocked the door and pushed it open. The door groaned.
“Where’s the bodyguard?”
Kat blinked innocently before widening her eyes. “What bodyguard?”