Assassin's Prey (Assassins Book 3)

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Assassin's Prey (Assassins Book 3) Page 18

by Ella Sheridan


  Leah scoffed. “Would you care if it hadn’t?”

  “How could you even ask me that?”

  Leah tightened her lips in that way she had when she desperately wanted to say something but shouldn’t. She knew him as well as he did her, then.

  How well?

  I shoved the question down deep. The caller was keeping this personal; getting down to business might throw him off. “What is it you want?” I asked.

  Another pause—he didn’t like talking to me. It proved my point. Finally he spoke, his tone almost tired. “Leah knows what I want; I’m sure she’ll fill you in. She returns what belongs to a certain powerful someone, and she gets what belongs to her back safe and sound. That’s it. Simple.” Another sigh. “I’ll be waiting, Leah.”

  The call clicked off.

  As if her strings had been cut, Leah dropped to her knees on the floor, her body bowing down over her thighs. No matter how much my brain shouted that it was a bad idea, my heart forced me to go to her. Sobs threatened to choke her as she rocked forward and back, her face practically on the floor, crying her daughter’s name—I couldn’t stand it, couldn’t leave her in so much fucking pain that it was ripping my guts out.

  Kneeling down, I planted my knees on either side of hers and pulled her up into my arms, her face in the hollow of my shoulder, her tears soaking my shirt.

  Holy shit.

  I knelt there, her soft, trembling body against mine, and knew, in that moment, that I was lost. I had long ago decided never to walk back into her life. I could never be what she needed, except right now I actually was. Everything she needed.

  I couldn’t walk away from that.

  And some damned part of me, down deep where I’d buried it alongside those memories of family and love and peace, was fucking ecstatic. I was holding the woman I loved in my arms for the very first time.

  While she cried for her missing child.

  Christ, I was a bastard.

  The knowledge made my voice rougher than I wanted. “We need to go.”

  Leah shook her head against my chest.

  I eased back, tilted her chin up until those liquid brown eyes met mine. “We need to go.”

  She blinked, still hazy. A pair of tears rolled down her cheeks.

  I don’t know what I was thinking; hell, maybe I wasn’t thinking at all. I’d thought my instincts were all for killing, not for caring. But something I couldn’t resist pushed me forward until my lips trapped a tear against her skin. My tongue snaked out to brush it away, to take the taste of her pain into my mouth. I moved to the other side and traced the path of her tears from jaw to eye, her lashes fluttering against my skin. When I straightened, so did she.

  Our lips barely brushed each other.

  Something powerful, something holy clenched my heart into a fucking knot behind my too-tight ribs.

  “Leah”—I grabbed her arms and moved her away from me, telling myself I wasn’t tearing a piece of me out while doing it—“we need to go.” I made myself breathe, focus. “We can’t find her tonight.” At least not from here. Back home I had what I needed to get us started.

  Leah looked anywhere but at me. Was she angry? Disgusted?

  Did it matter?

  “I can’t—”

  “You can.” Pushing myself to my feet, I dragged her up with me. “What is it he wants? Is it here?” I doubted it considering the state of the house. Leah wouldn’t keep something here that might draw danger to her daughter.

  When she didn’t answer, I gave her a little shake. “Is it?”

  Making a visible effort to pull herself together, she wiped the backs of her hands across her eyes, smearing mascara as she went. She looked like she had been through hell and back—and she had—and still I had a hard time believing any woman could be so beautiful.

  Would you get your mind on now and not your dick?

  I dropped my hands. “Leah?”

  Fists clenched at her side. She lifted her head to glare at me. “Go to hell, Remi.”

  I wanted to hear my full name on her lips—not the shortened version, but the whole thing, just once. I wanted her to say it when we were as close as we’d been moments ago. To say it when I was inside her. I wanted—

  To hell with what I wanted. Bastard, remember? Be the bastard you both need you to be.

  “I’m all you’ve got right now, so if I’m going to hell, you better pack for warm weather.”

  “I’m not leaving.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “You want to stay here with Mrs. Lydia?”

  The words drained the fight from Leah’s body—exactly what I’d hoped to accomplish. The stricken look on her face made me wish I could kick my own ass.

  I forced my own anger out with a deep breath. “Look, I don’t have anything here that can help you. I need you to come with me.” I held up the phone. “They obviously know how to contact you.”

  She reached for the phone, and I slipped it back into my pocket. If she got ahold of it, I’d probably never see her again. At least if she had a say in it.

  Which she didn’t. Not right now.

  She stared at the pocket where I’d tucked away her lifeline to her daughter. White teeth gleamed as she began to nibble at her bottom lip. I forced back a groan. Apparently it didn’t matter what the situation was; anything Leah did made me tight and aching. All I could do was try to ignore it

  “Do you have family you can contact?” I asked reluctantly. Brooke’s father wasn’t still in the picture, I knew that much—after over a year of watching, I’d never seen a sign of any man in Leah’s life, thank fuck. I might’ve lost my shit long before now if I had.

  Was he somehow involved with this?

  I pushed the thought aside to examine later. “Do you have anyone you can contact who can help you like I can?”

  Her dark eyes snapped to meet mine. “I can’t get past the fact that I haven’t seen you for a year and a half, Remi, and on the night my daughter is kidnapped, you miraculously reappear.”

  I shrugged. “Just because you haven’t seen me doesn’t mean I haven’t seen you.”

  “Don’t remind me. You’re definitely not helping your case.” She brought her hands up to rub her temples. “You have to be involved with this. There’s no other logical explanation.”

  The words were weak, though, without the biting sting Leah could add when you pissed her off. She was holding on to the idea because it gave her some knowledge, some control in the midst of a confusing, chaotic world. I recognized the signs and couldn’t blame her. She could hang on to whatever she needed to—as long as she came with me.

  “Well”—I stepped aside, raised a hand to usher her toward the hallway—“if I’m involved, you’d better stick to me like glue. What better way to find your daughter?”

  She stared me down a moment longer, brown eyes wary. And worried. When they dropped to the ground and she moved toward me, I knew I had won.

  “All right,” she said. “For now.”

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  ∞

  “Ms. Sheridan writes suspense that grabs you and won’t let go.”

  ~ Tea and Book

  About The Author

  Ella Sheridan never fails to take her readers to the dark edges of love and back again. Strong heroines are her signature, and her heroes span the gamut from hot rock stars to alpha bodyguards and everywhere in between. Ella never pulls her punches, and her unique combination of raw emotion, hot sex, and action leave her readers panting for the next release.

  Born and raised in the Deep South, Ella writes romantic suspense, erotic romance, and hot BDSM contemporaries. Start anywhere—every book may be read as a standalone, or begin with book one in any series and watch the ties between the characters grow.

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