Chapter 16
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
JASMINE
“ C an you fire a gun?”
That’s one skill I have got, so confidently, I reply to Helo, “Yeah, Buzz and Shotgun took me out to their range a few times.”
She’s frisked the unconscious guard and passes his weapon over to me.
“Er,” I hesitate. “Wouldn’t it be better if you took this?”
She grins and barks a short laugh. “As long as you can hit a big-ass target, then no. I’m better with this.” She holds up an evil-looking knife. “And my bare hands. Unless you’re a jujitsu expert and haven’t told me.”
Despite the circumstances, never mind that my husband’s dead body is at my feet, I have to smile. “Nah, I’ve no hidden talents.”
“Then let’s get ourselves out.” She holds out her fist and I bump it with mine.
But as I look at the door and remember at least one of my previous rapists is somewhere behind it, my nerves show themselves. “Helo?” I can’t rid the panic from my tone. “Shouldn’t we just wait here? Chaz will be looking for you.” And if she’s right about Strider, he will be too.
With only a slight indrawn and exhaled breath to reveal she’s sighed, she replies patiently, “I’m sure that the Soulz are moving heaven and earth trying to find us. But there’s no guarantee they’re going to discover where we are. We’re not going to stay undisturbed for ever. Sooner or later, someone will come down, or sleeping beauty there will wake up.” She jerks her head toward the unconscious body on the ground. “Unless you want me to silence him permanently, we need to act now while we’ve got the element of surprise.”
I’ve astounded myself with my lack of compassion for Barclay’s demise, relief being my foremost emotion. And though I doubt the man who accompanied him has less evil intentions than him, I’m squeamish and don’t want to witness him being killed in cold blood.
Helo’s obviously preparing to leave and goes toward the stairs. Not wanting to be left behind, I follow her up. Slowly and quietly, she opens the door. It leads to a small hallway that has been left unguarded. We both step through, then she turns and locks the door behind us.
Voices reach us from somewhere. Her finger to her mouth, Helo beckons me to be quiet. She appears to be listening, I suppose, to precisely locate where they are, and how many there are of them.
When I start to pick out the words they’re saying, bile rises in my throat. They’re talking about me and her and all of the perverted things they’d like to do to us. As I inhale sharply, Helo’s hand reaches out and squeezes mine, a sign of solidarity. The stiffening of her body suggests she’s not unaffected.
She holds up three fingers and raises a quizzical brow. Trying to divorce myself from the sentiment and count up the different tones, I nod, confirming that I think she’s right. Her brief nod of reassurance and quick quirk of her lips implies she’s okay with those odds.
Gripping the pistol more firmly, checking the safety is off, I brace myself. I’ve never considered myself a fighter. Barclay’s death has opened up a new world of freedom in front of me, completing the process for which my father had sacrificed his life. I’m determined to do everything I can not to waste the chance I’ve been given.
Footsteps sound and a voice calls out, close enough we can hear the words clearly. “I’ll check on the boss. Thought I’d be hearing screams by now.” His mirthful tone sends shivers down my spine.
“You just wanna join in,” another shouts.
Helo stealthily moves to position herself before the turn in the hallway. A man appears. He sees me, but before he can do anything more than open his mouth, his throat is cut and he’s bleeding out on the floor.
I suppose Helo used hand signals in her previous employment, but I’ve no clue what she’s trying to signal. Exasperated when she sees I can’t understand her, she moves close and murmurs into my ear.
“We’ll take them by surprise before they get curious to see what’s happened to their friend. As soon as we get an eye line on them, you shoot the one on the right.”
Bemused, I whisper back, “How do you know it should be the one on the right?”
Her eyes roll, but she manages to keep the sarcasm controlled and out of her voice. “There are only two. If I know which one you’re taking out, I can concentrate on the other.”
Okay. Right. I feel really dumb right now, but I’ve never been trained in battle, so maybe she’ll give me a pass.
I understand the countdown when she holds three fingers up and moves one down. As the third descends, we advance, side by side.
There are two men playing cards. Neither notices our entry. That doesn’t stop Helo. She’s got her arm wrapped around the throat of the man on the left, and just like his companion, slits his throat without pausing to take a breath.
Me? I freeze. Firing at a target is nothing like shooting at a person, knowing I’m going to take his life, or at the least, probably making him regret having to live the rest of it. How can I just kill a man who’s been taken by surprise and who is currently sitting, jaw dropped, staring at his friend, who Helo just took out right in front of his eyes?
He’s no threat, is he? It looks like he’s just going to put his cards down and surrender…
The cards fall, and he indeed does raise his hands, but one has a gun in it. He shoots, but Helo’s a moment too fast, or a moment too slow, depending on how you look at it. He doesn’t make the chest shot he was aiming for, but the bullet catches her as she throws herself to one side.
I don’t hesitate. The gunshot freed something inside me. In a split second, I’ve taken the stance Buzz drilled into my mind and fire three quick shots in succession. One in his head, two in his chest.
Then, I scream as twin thoughts slam into my mind. I’ve killed a man, and Helo’s been shot.
“Helo!” I throw myself across the room to where she’s landed flat on the ground. There’s so much blood coming out of her. I’m not sure from where. I think she’s breathing, but, oh, hell. “Helo, I’m so damn sorry.”
She breathes in a breath, lets it out, and relief floods through me when I see her chest move. She opens her mouth. “Good shooting there, hon.”
What?
“ I’m sorry, so sorry,” I start babbling, my hands reaching out to search where all the blood is coming from, but she puts out her hands to stop me.
“Jasmine,” she says sharply. “Most of the blood is his.” She points to the man who’s throat she had cut. “The bullet only scratched my side. I’ll live.”
“You shouldn’t have been shot at all. If I’d done what you asked…”
Reaching up, she cups her bloody hands around my cheeks. “Jasmine, breathe, honey. I’m just pleased that you shot him before he could finish the job. This is my world, not yours.”
“It was your fuckin’ world. It’s not anymore.”
Helo rolls, placing me under her at the unknown voice, an instinctive reaction I’m sure while smoothly taking the gun I’m holding from my hand into hers.
I stop breathing. So close, yet so far.
And then Helo starts laughing. “You wanna bet, man of mine? This is more fun than I’d had in years.”
“I’ll take that bet, my queen. ‘Cause this is the last time I’m letting you out of my sight. And, damn it. You’re bleeding, woman.”
She’s gently pulled off me by the man I belatedly recognise as Chaz, her old man and prez of the Arizona Soulz. And there, behind him, is another I recognise. I gulp when I see him.
My heart leaps, but I immediately ground myself. Strider’s not my future. He’s my past. I try to drown the embryonic hope that what Helo told me was true and that he really does want me.
It’s hard to read the expression on his face, especially when his first words to me are spoken gruffly. “You hurt?”
I realise I, too, am covered with blood. “No. Helo’s the only one who got injured.” I don’t add it’s thanks to her I’m alive. That’s a debt I’ll probably be repaying all my life.
At my proclamation, he reaches down his hand, grabs mine, and pulls me to my feet.
But before he has a chance to say anything, Helo interrupts. “Boys,” she starts casually, raising her chin first to Chaz, then to Strider. “We left one alive in the basement. Barclay Aster is dead, but one of his henchmen is there. Might have a fractured skull, but I’m sure you could get something from him.” She winces, puts her hand to her injured side, then somehow summons up a grin for me. “Jasmine may be entitled to any legacy her ex-husband might have left.”
“I want nothing from him,” I spit out. His world’s not mine. “I don’t want any part of a criminal enterprise.”
But Chaz and Strider share a glance with each other, and then Strider grins. “Your place or mine?”
Chaz chuckles. “Yours is nearer, but Helo needs sorting out.”
“Got that handled.” Shotgun comes back into sight. “Just called Rufus. He’s got a medic on speed dial. I suggest you take Helo, get her looked at, while we take the package back to Austin. Rufus can also let us borrow a truck. We’ll just get a prospect to return it to him.” He pauses and grins at the blood splattered around. “After he’s cleaned it properly, of course.”
“We’re just racking up favours to repay to Rufus,” Chaz complains, but it’s half-heartedly. Then, he cheers up. “But that’s your problem, Strider.”
The man he’s addressing only seems to be half paying attention to the conversation. Instead, he’s staring at me. He waves his hand which Chaz seems to take as agreement, then steps closer. Now I’m getting one hundred percent of his focus.
“I’m not married now.” His voice is deadly serious.
It wasn’t what I expected to come out of his mouth, but sympathy rushes through me. “I’m so sorry to hear about Anna. Helo told me.” I can feel myself blush at the way the words tumble out. I hope they convey I’m genuinely sorry for him.
He shrugs. “I lost Anna years ago. I’ve been told it was guilt that made me stay with her. Maybe they’re right. There’s a hole in my heart, but it wasn’t there when she finally left me. It appeared the day you walked away.”
I’m dumbstruck. “You took me to see her to show me there was no room in your life for anyone else.”
“I took you to see her so you’d understand I had nothing to offer. Hell, Jasmine. I hated myself after I made you abort our baby. I panicked. At the time, it felt right. But after? It didn’t just tear you apart. It tore me into pieces. And, what was worse was knowing I’d made you do that as compensation to a woman who, even at that time, was beyond the point she’d ever understand. You could have had the baby, paraded it in front of her, and she wouldn’t have given a damn.”
“Helo said you thought you’d caused her condition.” I offer it as support, not accusation.
Again, his shoulders rise and fall. “I couldn’t see any other reason for it. If you’re interested, Chaz has thought I’ve been an idiot all along. Punishing myself for something that probably wasn’t even down to me. Even if the crash caused her illness, I hadn’t lost control of the bike on purpose.”
There’s the rusty taste of blood in the air that I breathe and dead bodies around me. It seems an incongruous place to have such a talk now. But somehow, for us, it’s right to have this conversation in a place of darkness. Maybe it’s the start of us both finding our way back into the light.
And the right time for my confession. “I told myself I was leaving as you’d shown me how much you loved your wife and that there was no way I’d ever be able to measure up to her memory, even after she’d died.” Strider goes to speak, but I let my words come out fast. “But I felt guilty too. I knew I was still married. I wasn’t free. If I’d hung around until Anna died, even if you wanted me, you couldn’t have me.”
He surprises me when he spits out with vehemence, “It’s a shame Barclay Aster is dead.” As my mouth drops open, he continues, “I’d have wanted him alive, to tear him limb from limb myself. I’d have made him suffer tenfold for everything he put you through.” His hands do that familiar action of pulling his hair back into a ponytail before letting it drop. “Why the fuck didn’t you tell us about him and what he’d put you through?”
“He is, was ,” I make the correction with no little satisfaction, “a powerful man with powerful connections. The Wretched Soulz gave me sanctuary. How could I thank you by bringing the Mafia down on your head?” I look around and see Helo being helped out by Chaz, presumably being taken to see the medic they’d been talking about. “It seems like I now owe you my life. Somehow, you got Helo into the signing, so she was there when I needed help.” I bite my lip, hoping she’ll have no long-lasting repercussions.
He reads me so well as he tries to put my mind at ease. “Helo will be fine. But yeah…” he pauses to pull his hair back again. When it flops forward, he continues, “That book, when we realised it probably wasn’t fiction, when Mayhem…” At my look of confusion, he explains, “The best data analyst around and a Soul from LA, well, when he discovered that you’d written a sanitised version of the truth, we had an inkling who we were dealing with. I wanted to talk to you and explain about Anna, but until you started making arrangements with StoryTeller’s ol’ lady, I had no idea how to find you. I was over the moon to know I had a chance to see you in Dallas—I’d planned to meet up with you after the signing.” He pauses and his brow draws down. “Then we fuckin’ realised if we knew where you’d be, so would anyone else who was looking for you. So…” he breaks off, his face lightens and he grins. “Chaz offered his secret weapon. His woman.”
“I’ll never be able to repay what I owe you.”
He moves closer. “I know ways you can try. Be my woman, Jasmine. Agree to be my ol’ lady, and now we’re both free, my wife.”