by Cynthia Eden
She looked up.
In the next second, Rick was leading Ghost to the rear of the vehicle. Ghost’s face appeared even more battered. He sent me to open the trunk so he could drive his fist into Ghost’s face, and I wouldn’t see him do it.
Rick had his gun trained on the hit man.
“Get in the trunk,” Rick ordered him.
“No fucking way, I am not—”
Rick slammed the gun into the side of the hit man’s head. When Ghost staggered, Rick grabbed him and tossed the guy inside. Rick slammed the trunk closed. One hand gripped his gun and the other fisted on top of the trunk’s lid.
Kat stood there, her whole body tight with tension. Jimmy—damn him—he was right. She hated violence. Hated the sight of it. Hated everything about it.
Even though I just shot a man.
“The car is so old, it won’t have the easy open latch mechanism that the new models have in their trunks.” Rick heaved out a breath. “Jackass will have to work his way through the back seat. That buys us some time.” He tucked his gun into the waistband of his jeans and whipped out his phone. “I’ll get Cole to send cops to this location. Cops, Feds, whoever is closest—they can drag this asshole away.”
“Rick…”
“We’re leaving now.” He put the phone to his ear. He rattled off a location—some highway number and something about the third dirt road, gave a quick rundown on Ghost, and hung up. He curled his arm around her. “You can hotwire anything, right?”
“Y-yes.”
“Good. Because I’m pretty sure that bastard’s keys are in the trunk with him.” He paused and stared down at her. “He was here to kill me and take you.”
She swayed. Steadied herself.
“I want to beat the hell out of him. I want to kill him.”
Kat shook her head. “That’s not you. It’s not what you do.”
“Baby, I don’t think you understand the real me.”
Kat took a step back.
“I will never hurt you,” he promised her. His eyes were dark and intense. “I swear it. But, baby, I can’t let threats to you stand.”
Something banged into the back of the trunk. Probably either Jimmy’s hand or foot. It banged again. Harder.
“If he is Ghost, he’s probably the number one threat to you. We have to make sure he’s in custody. He can’t come at you again.”
She knew that. She knew—
“I’d thought that I would take you to a cabin in the mountains. An old property that belonged to a friend.” Sadly, Rick shook his head. “I can’t. I realize that now. My only choice is to take you in.”
Take her in? Oh, no, she did not like the sound of that. “Rick?”
“We’ve got a dead body in our wake. We’ve got a hit man in the trunk. I’m not sure what the hell is coming next, but I can’t risk you. I’m taking you in, and I’m making sure you have a full team around you.”
Jimmy was still slamming into the trunk, but that old sedan was holding steady.
“You’ll hotwire his ride—I saw it when I was in the woods. We’ll take it back to Wilde. We aren’t going to sit here and wait. You have to get out of the line of fire. You need a freaking barricade of agents around you, and that’s what I’m going to make sure you have.”
He was taking her in. Turning her over to someone else? Leaving her?
Of course, he is. Because being with her was dangerous. Because Rick had an infamous hit man locked in the trunk—a hit man who happened to be one of her ex-lovers. This whole scene was probably a million times more than what Rick had bargained for when he’d first taken the job.
Simple fact…Rick wanted out. He wanted away from her.
So suck it up. Tell him you understand. He’s bailing on you, the same way plenty of others have. No big deal. Story of your life.
Only…it was a big deal. Because this time, it hurt about a thousand times worse than all the other abandonments. But Kat stiffened her spine. Pasted a smile on her face. “Right. Of course. Let’s get moving. We’ve already been in the open too long.”
She hurried forward, moving blindly toward the trees. Ghost’s car had to be out there somewhere.
Rick caught her arm and swung her around to face him. “Kat?” A furrow appeared between his brows. “What’s wrong?”
“What isn’t wrong?’ She shook her head. Pulled away. “Let’s go.” Go…before she started crying. No, she would not cry. She wouldn’t.
They had to go.
Rick had to leave her. And she had to figure out how to survive on her own.
The memories will be nice. At least I got to make those. At least I got to pretend, for just a little while…
“The vehicle is this way.” He directed her toward the right. They walked a while, and bam, there it was. A sleek beauty just waiting. Kat slipped inside and hotwired it. Had the engine purring even as Rick went toward the back of the trunk.
“I’ll be damned.”
She twisted around and then poked her head out the driver’s side window. “What is it?”
“A gun store. A knife store.” He moved to the side, holding handcuffs and rope. “And everything you need for bondage.”
Her heart hurt. “He was going to tie me up and take me to his boss.” That BS about Jimmy’s boss being a dead man? No, she hadn’t bought it for a second. Jimmy was a liar, straight to his core.
Rick’s face hardened.
“He could’ve already called his boss.” Her body turned icy. “Come on, Rick, now.”
He slammed the trunk and was in the passenger seat a moment later. She shoved the gas pedal into the floorboard and hauled ass out of there.
***
James Smith kicked at the trunk again. Sonofafuckingbitch…of course, he would be in a car that had been built before 2002. Before easy to find trunk release levers were required to be in all cars. He was in an ancient pile of crap, he couldn’t find the release lever, he couldn’t find the old school trunk release cable, and there was nothing in that tight, closed-in space that he could use to even try prying open the trunk’s latch.
As freaking embarrassing as it was to admit, he’d even lost his damn keys. He’d dropped them when he yanked out his knife and made a swipe at Rick. Right before Kat shot me.
He was so screwed.
He tried to maneuver his body around, but the tiny trunk was sure as hell not meant for a guy with his size. The big, asshole bruiser Rick had shoved him in there tight, and now James was about to lose everything that mattered.
“I am going to kill him,” James snarled. He didn’t have a phone on him. There was no one he could call for help. Not like he would call anyone. Because being locked in the trunk of a piece of shit car was not the way he wanted anyone in the business to find him. How the hell would he ever live that one down? Bad enough that he’d gotten overpowered by the grizzly bear, but to be left in a trunk for cops to find?
His head lifted and slammed down—over and over—against the bottom of the trunk. It was not his day. And if twenty million hadn’t been up for grabs, there was no way he would be in this mess. Twenty million was making everyone crazy.
How long did he have before the cops came storming up? Or the FBI? Or whoever the hell Rick was calling?
He could get out of his mess. If he could just position his body the right way, maybe he could kick through the back seat. If I weren’t already wedged in here like a trapped sardine!
But going through the back seat was his only option. He had to kick or punch until he could break through. The only question was…would he be able to get out before Rick’s cavalry party arrived? James sure as shit hoped so.
***
Rick was nearly crushing the phone in his hand. He’d made his calls—a call to Cole. Another call to Eric.
Wilde agents would be rushing to the scene to handle Ghost. The authorities would be with him. They were running in hot because everyone wanted to get the hit man in custody.
His head turned. Kat was st
aring dead ahead. Her whole body was tense, but she seemed so incredibly fragile to him. “Kat…” He cleared his throat because he still sounded too furious. He was furious. Not with her. With the bastard who’d tried to hurt her. “I’m guessing you had no idea Ghost was your ex?” I want to punch the sonofabitch again.
“Not until I saw his smile. Everything else had changed about him. Those dimples were the same.” Her voice was wrong. Too flat. All the emotion gone. Her hold tightened on the wheel. “I once offered my life in place of his.”
Rick rubbed his chest. “’Cause you loved him that much?”
“Because I didn’t want anyone dying for me. And now, he’s the one who’s leading the pack to get my head. He wants to tie me up and deliver me to the mob. To the highest bidder.” A bitter laugh. “Maybe I should have let my father kill him when I had the chance.”
He reached out and touched her wrist. “Kat—”
She flinched. “Don’t, okay?”
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t touch me. I kind of…I’m kind of barely holding everything together right now. I get that we need to return to the Wilde office as fast as we can. Things are too crazy. But I knew they would get crazy. Everything in my life always does, and you’re not the first one who couldn’t handle it.” A pause. “Handle me.”
His hand pulled away from her. If she didn’t want him touching her, he wouldn’t. But she needed to understand… “I can handle anything you throw at me.”
She shook her head.
“I can handle it, baby.”
“We’ll get to Wilde. You’ll turn me over to someone else. They’ll either keep me safe or I’ll die. It is what it is.”
“What the hell? I’m not turning you over to anyone! You’re staying with me!”
She slanted him a quick glance. Was that…hope? It had damn well better be.
“Listen to me,” Rick gritted out. “No one is taking you from me. I am not giving you up! You are mine. Mine. Got it?” He would never forget when she’d shot Ghost because the guy had lunged at Rick. She hadn’t hesitated. Just fired.
Incredible. Brave. She’d kicked the jerk in the balls. She’d fought with a fury. She’d fired that gun. She was strong and brave and wild, and he was so crazy in love with—
Stop the thought. Stop it.
“I’m not giving you up,” he said again, his voice still rough. “You’re mine, Kat.”
“Until I walk in the courthouse? You promise me?”
Rick nodded. “Yeah, baby, until you walk in that courthouse. I promise.” But the truth was…he didn’t just want her until she headed into court. He wanted her…always.
He didn’t want to let her go, not at all.
He just wanted her.
But how in the hell was he going to keep his princess with him?
Chapter Fourteen
Finally. James drove his fist through the opening he’d made in the back seat. He’d been pounding at that thing forever. Maybe cars made from the freaking nineties were just sturdy as hell, but it had taken all of his strength to get through. Of course, the fact that his right arm had been bleeding like crazy the whole time hadn’t helped. He was weak. He was drenched in sweat. And he was pissed.
How long had it taken him? James had no clue. He needed to haul ass out of there. Or maybe…hell, maybe instead of walking out of those woods, he’d take the sedan. Kat wasn’t the only one who knew how to hotwire a vehicle.
But Rick probably told his buddies to be on the lookout for this car. There’s probably an APB out for it now.
It was a chance he’d have to take. Running on foot would be too slow.
The freaking sedan. James had bullshitted about how he’d tailed them to the woods. He had thought like Rick. And he’d figured that if the man had to flee from the motel, he’d take the sedan. Not like there were other choices. So James had tagged the vehicle. A small tracking device under the bumper. Then, when Rick and Kat had fled, chasing after them had been easy.
But he wanted Rick to think he’d been distracted. Getting into your enemy’s head? Always a good plan.
James dragged his body through the opening he’d made in the back seat. His breath sawed in and out, and his right arm burned with pain. Graze, his ass. That wound was no graze. Kat had taken off a chunk of his arm. Really given him something to remember her by. As if he’d ever be able to forget Kat.
He shoved open the right, rear door and hauled himself out. He—
“Freeze.”
A woman stood there, legs shoulder width apart, a gun held competently in her grip. She had the gun pointed at him. Her dark hair was swept up into a twist, exposing the long column of her throat. She was beautiful. Really gorgeous. A lady with a gun…totally his type. Or she would have been, if she also hadn’t been sporting a badge on her hip.
The badge kind of ruined things.
“Put your hands up,” she ordered in a flat, I’ll-kick-your-ass voice. “Now.”
He lifted his hands. Or, made a show of trying to lift them. “I’m shot,” he whimpered. “Someone shot me…shoved me in the trunk and—”
“Do I look stupid? I know who you are, Ghost.” She inclined her head, and suddenly, there were a whole lot of uniformed cops coming out of the trees.
Jeez. Had they all just been waiting for him to finally drag his ass out of the sedan?
Only, they weren’t all cops. Because he recognized the dark-haired, tattooed fellow who stayed behind the uniforms. Cole Vincent. Cole had been at the farmhouse. The guy was thick with Rick. Figured a Wilde agent would be there. “What do you guys do?” James demanded as he glared at Cole. “Smell blood in the water like sharks?”
Cole smiled at him.
“I told you,” the gorgeous lady with the gun and badge called out, “put your hands up!”
He lifted his hands. “You’re making a mistake. I’m the victim here. You need to be rounding up Rick Williams. That guy has gone off the deep end. He’s crazy obsessed with Kathleen O’Shaughnessy. He found out that I was her ex, and man, he went insane.”
She took a step toward him. “The fact that you’re a hit man after the client he’s protecting—that had nothing to do with his sudden bout of insanity?”
“A hit man?” James smiled. “I think you’re got me confused with someone else.”
She held his gaze. “I don’t think I do.”
“Look, I need medical attention. I need a trip to the hospital.” There would be so many ways that he could escape a hospital. “I feel weak. I-I think I’m gonna pass out—” His hands began to lower.
“Cuff him,” she barked. “And, dammit, someone get an EMT!”
He smiled. Handcuffs? A breeze. Hell, he’d been the one to first teach Kat how to sneak out of them.
***
Kat wasn’t talking. They’d made it back to Wilde, and as soon as they’d arrived, Eric had met them—Eric and a small army of Wilde agents. Eric’s “inner circle”—so to speak. All of the agents had worked with Eric since he’d first opened Wilde, and Rick was very glad to see those familiar faces.
But no one spoke as they rode the elevator up to Eric’s office. And when it came time to actually enter his office…only Eric, Kat, and Rick stepped inside.
Once they crossed the threshold—surprise, surprise—Eric’s brother Ben was waiting inside. The younger Wilde wasn’t in the security business. He was a lawyer and also one of Rick’s closest friends. And at Ben’s side, another familiar figure waited—an African American male with a completely shaved head and wearing both a perfectly cut suit and a clear What-Have-You-Done-Now expression on his face. Defense attorney Kendrick Shaw was obviously not pleased.
“Uh, oh,” Rick said when he caught sight of Kendrick. “You brought in the big guns.”
Eric shut the door behind Rick. “No one will get in this office without my permission. I have an army of agents right outside this door.”
Yeah, they’d all just seen them.
Eric motione
d to the giant freaking espresso bar in his office. A new addition, one that had been brought in by Eric’s wife, Piper. “Ms. O’Shaughnessy,” Eric said, his voice carefully polite. “Can I get you something?”
Her lips pursed. “Honestly, I could use a few shots of vodka.”
He blinked. “So could I.”
Kendrick stepped forward. “How about we save the drinks for after our little talk about the murder of Joseph Lucas?”
“Who?” Rick asked.
“I think he means Joey,” Kat said as she rubbed her neck and headed for the nearest chair. She lowered into it. Kind of sprawled. Looked beautiful and exhausted. He wanted to scoop her into his arms and take her out of there. Maybe put her in a giant bed so that she could sleep and forget—
“Like that, huh?” Ben Wilde asked.
Rick’s head shot up as he zeroed in on his friend.
Ben nodded. “Yeah, I’ve been there, too. I know that look.”
“Shut it, man,” Rick growled. He was glad to see some friendly faces—faces he could trust—but he was not about to go where Ben was leading.
Ben leaned close to him and, voice low, replied, “Consider it shut, for now. Though you might want to think about guarding your expression a little more. You’re giving a whole lot away.”
He flipped off his friend and dragged a chair closer to Kat. “I want an update on what’s going on. Did the cops get Ghost?”
Eric took a seat behind his desk. “Cole called me right before you arrived. Yes, they’ve got him. He’s being transported to a hospital for treatment before they take him to the PD because…apparently, someone shot him.” He looked expectantly at Rick.
Kat waved a hand in the air. “It was me. I shot him.”
Kendrick strode toward her. He offered his hand to Kat. “Hello, Ms. O’Shaughnessy. My name is Kendrick Shaw, and while I knew your father, I don’t believe we’ve ever met.”
Her head tilted to the right as she peered up at him. “I know your name. You’re a defense attorney.” She shook his hand.
“No, I’m the defense attorney. As in, I’m the one you want. The only one you’ll ever need.” He pulled back his hand and straightened his already straight suit. “In the future, how about we don’t just throw out statements like, ‘It was me. I shot him,’ when you’re questioned? We don’t just need to confess to every little thing.”