Chapter 15
When Kinley came to, it took her a moment to figure out where she was and why her face hurt so badly. Her eyes opened—well, one of them did, the other was already swollen shut—and she realized she was in some sort of warehouse.
“You’re awake finally, huh?” someone asked.
Kinley turned to see the obviously fake FBI agent smacking a wooden baseball bat into his palm over and over as he came toward her. He’d changed into a pair of jeans and a black T-shirt. The tie and white shirt were gone, and he looked positively evil.
“Not gonna talk to me? That’s okay,” he said. “I prefer my women to be silent, actually.”
“Who are you?” Kinley croaked, wanting to stall him. If she could just get her brain to work, maybe she could find a way out of this.
Hell, who was she kidding? She was in deep shit, and she knew it.
He stopped about five feet from her and bowed, as if he were a gentleman in a bygone era. “Simon King, at your service,” he said with a smirk. “And to clear things up, in case you’re entertaining thoughts of living to see tomorrow…Stryker hired me to kill you.”
Kinley inhaled sharply. Shit.
“I have to admit, you’re making me earn the two million bucks I’m getting paid for this job.
I thought it would be easy to take you out, but somehow you got lucky back in DC.
It would’ve been quicker if you’d have just fallen in front of that train.
” He shook his head and tsked. “But you ran and made me hunt you down. You’ve also been smarter than I would’ve thought, especially for a woman.
I’ve been watching you for weeks. Trying to figure out your schedule and come up with a plan for getting ahold of you.
I was beginning to think I was going to have to take out that boyfriend of yours.
Or that pretty little filly you were with today.
I usually try not to have any collateral damage, but in your case, I would’ve made an exception. ”
Kinley’s blood ran cold, and she stared up at the man sent to kill her. This was why she’d hesitated to come to Texas in the first place, because she didn’t want to involve anyone else in her problems. Didn’t want anyone else to get hurt on account of her.
Simon squatted down and stared into her one good eye. “This isn’t personal. It’s business,” he said almost conversationally. “I was hired to kill you, and that’s what I’m gonna do. As I said, there’s two million dollars waiting for me when you’re dead.”
“Killing me makes you no better than him,” Kinley said, doing her best not to cry.
Simon snorted out a laugh. “I. Don’t. Care,” he enunciated. “I’ve been in this profession for as long as I can remember. And no one’s caught me yet. I’m good. The best. All I care about is the money. You’re nothing to me. No one. Killing you isn’t even a blip on my give-a-shit meter.”
He stood, and Kinley saw his fingers tighten around the handle of the bat.
“You ready?”
“Fuck you,” she whispered.
He grinned. “Nah, that’s not my kink. I get off on pain, sweetheart. And you’re about to experience just how good I am at dishing it out.”
Before she could leap up and try to escape, Simon swung the bat in his hands.
Kinley screamed as it hit her in the side. She felt something snap, and knew it was one of her ribs. Then he did it again. And again.
Despite the pain, she could tell he wasn’t putting all his strength behind his blows. He was playing with her, just as he warned he would.
When he got sick of beating her with the bat, he began to use his feet. He kicked her over and over, laughing all the while.
When Kinley didn’t think she could withstand anything else, he dropped to his knees and hauled her almost unresisting body under him. He straddled her chest and wrapped his hands around her neck.
Kinley reached up and tried to claw his face, but he held himself just out of her reach. She did manage to rake her nails down his neck, but he tightened his hold on her, and soon all she could think about was getting air into her lungs.
She had no choice but to stare up at his grinning face. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’m not going to kill you yet. I’m just getting started.”
Lefty was tired. His work days had been long recently, as they were ramping up for another mission. They’d been researching terrorist groups in the Middle East, and it looked like the government was going to have another High-Value Target for them to go after soon.
He was worried about leaving Kinley, especially when the FBI and the Parisian authorities were going to move on both Brown and Stryker soon. It seemed as if the better things got between him and Kinley, the more uncertain everything around them became.
He’d been in meetings all day—some bullshit political stuff, and others that were more interesting, involving possible future cases he and his Delta team might be involved in. Now, he was looking forward to going home and hanging out with Kinley.
Looking down at his phone, Lefty saw that he’d missed a call from Gillian, which was a little odd. He didn’t know why Trigger’s girlfriend would be calling him.
He clicked on the message—and froze as he heard what Gillian had to say.
Hey, Lefty, it’s Gillian. Kinley and I went to the grocery store and an FBI agent stopped us on the way out, said he’d been sent to pick up Kinley and take her to Austin.
He said Walter Brown had been arrested and Drake was being questioned in Paris.
His name is Robert Turner, and he showed us his FBI badge and everything.
Kinley tried to call Cruz, but he didn’t answer.
It all seemed to be on the level, but after messing up and not telling Walker or you that Kinley had been in town before, I didn’t want to mess up again by not letting you know right away.
I’m sure it’s nothing, and everything is fine, but I wanted to call.
I’ll talk to you later. Oh, and I’ve got the groceries Kinley bought here in our apartment, so you can come over and get them anytime. Bye.
Lefty immediately felt sick. “Fuck,” he swore, running as fast as he could toward his car. He needed more information, and he needed it now. And the best way to get that information was to talk to Gillian.
Driving as fast as he dared, Lefty dialed Cruz’s number.
As soon as the other man answered, he said, “Cruz, this is Lefty. Please tell me the FBI arranged to have Kinley picked up today and brought to Austin for safekeeping.”
He could tell he’d caught the FBI agent off guard, but Cruz barely missed a beat. “Fuck. No. Not that I know of. Talk to me.”
Lefty told him everything he knew, which wasn’t much. “I’m just now getting to my apartment complex. Hang on, I’m headed up to talk to Gillian.” He ran up the stairs toward Trigger and Gillian’s apartment. The door was opened almost immediately after Lefty began banging on it.
Lefty pushed past his friend without a word, looking for Gillian. She was standing in the middle of the living room, her eyes wide and concerned.
“Tell me everything about the man who said he was an FBI agent.”
“He wasn’t…was he?” she asked.
“I doubt it,” Lefty told her.
“I was just about to call you,” Trigger said. “Gillian told me what happened as soon as I got home.”
“I’ve got Cruz on speaker,” Lefty said. “Gillian, tell us everything you remember.”
She did. She told them what the car looked like, a description of the man posing as an agent, what he said his name was, and everything he’d told them.
“As far as I know, Brown was discreetly picked up in DC today,” Cruz told them.
“He’s being charged with several things, the most serious being the child porn charge.
His work computer was clean, but he used his government-issued cell phone to download videos, and his personal laptop at home was full of that shit.
As far as I know, Stryker is under surveillance.
The Parisian authorities are still investigating and trying to collect evidence against him.
They don’t want to tip him off and have him flee before they’re ready to arrest him. ”
“And without Kinley, their case is a hell of a lot weaker,” Lefty said. It wasn’t a question, and Cruz didn’t even attempt to blow smoke up his ass. “He got to her,” Lefty whispered. “If we don’t find her…she’s as good as dead.”
“Don’t think that,” Cruz ordered. “I’m gonna call in the troops. Gillian said they were headed to Austin, so we’ll put out a BOLO on his car and make sure every cop in the area has their eyes and ears open.”
Lefty appreciated Cruz’s immediate call for action, but he knew in his gut it wouldn’t be enough. He didn’t want to think it, but he had a feeling his Kinley was already dead. If Stryker’s hitman was efficient, he would’ve put a bullet in her head as soon as he got her away from the grocery store.
“Oh! Lefty!” Gillian exclaimed. “I almost forgot, I wrote down the guy’s license plate number. Right before he got too far away, I thought it might be a good idea.”
“Give it to me,” Cruz ordered, obviously having overheard Gillian.
Lefty read the numbers and letters off Gillian’s phone, where she’d noted them.
“This is a big deal,” Cruz said. “It’s good.”
Lefty wanted to be excited, but he knew it was still a long shot that anyone would be able to find the car before it was too late. His head dropped, and he thanked Cruz. “Keep me in the loop,” he begged.
“Of course. I need to hang up and make some calls,” Cruz said apologetically.
“Okay. Thanks for all your help. It means a lot.”
“I know it doesn’t feel good right now, but I’ve had some very close friends who’ve been in your shoes. They thought all hope was lost, but they got a miracle. Don’t stop believing in miracles, Gage.”