17. Chance
17
CHANCE
I forced my hands to remain loosely at my sides. I desperately wanted to tug on the tie choking me, or maybe I just really wanted to wrap my fingers around Nolan’s throat. The loan shark hadn’t wasted time. He’d had Walter take me to a tailor and had quickly gotten me fitted for a suit. A damn black suit like the other thugs.
The things I did for my woman. Just proved how much I loved my wild-haired, gorgeous, stubborn mechanic. That I’d voluntarily walk into the lion’s den and play the cowed victim—in a suit no less—cinched it.
Entering the office, I found Nolan threatening his thugs with dismemberment for losing Mandy.
Pride swelled in my chest, and I hid my grin behind a cough. Who knew my feisty woman had an inner secret squirrel? Naughty scenarios of the hide-and-seek games we could play flooded my mind, but I had to push them down. I’d examine those fantasies at length once I’d ended this.
Nolan ordered the others out of his sight.
I swiveled my neck against the tight collar and strode to the front of Nolan’s desk. Nolan rocked back in his leather chair—a chair almost large enough to be called a throne. I called it pretentious.
“Now you look like a representative of mine.” Nolan nodded, taking in my outfit, and if I hadn’t known better, I’d have sworn the man was checking me out.
“Getting blood out of a suit’s not going to be fun,” I retorted, just to see what the guy would say.
The loan shark’s lips thinned. “That’s what dry cleaners are for.” He held out a Post-it note. “Go to this address.”
I took the yellow square and peered at it. I wasn’t familiar with Atlanta, so I didn’t know the location. “Okay. What do I need to know?”
“Travis White has been trouble.” Nolan picked up a fancy pen and twirled it between his fingers. “He owes me a quarter of a million dollars and has proven…not very susceptible to my typical methods of persuasion.” The silver pen spun. “He has no friends, family, or lovers I can lean on, and he owns a gym. Opened it with my money. He trains boxers of all things.”
Great.
Nolan snorted. “You can imagine he’s not the most welcoming to my men, and he isn’t easily intimidated.” Nolan stabbed the pen toward me. “You collect my money and bring it back by the end of the day and it’ll go a long way toward forgiving Ms. Loomis’s debt.”
“How long of a way?” I had yet to hear this guy say anything definitive. How long did Nolan think he could string me along? It didn’t really matter, seeing as how I hoped to end this tonight, but I was curious how the man intended to play this.
Nolan waved a hand dismissively. “Long. We’ll get into that later.”
I glanced at the note, playing up I was conflicted about hurting someone else.
“I hate to bring this up.” Nolan sounded anything but regretful. “But Ms. Loomis is a very beautiful woman. There are many men who’d love to pay for an American woman of her…caliber.”
Calm. Focus, I reminded myself. Finish the mission.
“I’ll bring back the money by the end of the day,” I said, then marched toward the door before I lost my grasp on my tenuous self-control.
Slipping into the bathroom on the main floor near the entrance, I pulled out my cellphone and damn near cried when I saw the texts from Mandy.
Mandy: Talked to Mark. You better survive. I’m not done with you yet. ?
Mandy: Oh, and don’t think we’re not going to talk, mister. angry face Be safe. Please. 3
I scrolled to the next one, from Agent Butler. I wanted to respond to Mandy, but I knew that once I got started, all my feelings would come tumbling out. I wanted to be able to look her in the eyes when I told her that she was my whole world.
Agent Butler: Mandy’s testimony and yours, plus the recording, should be enough to take Nolan down.
I typed back: * Should* is not good enough. Nolan is sending me after a man named Travis White. Used money to open a boxing gym. I typed in the address.
Bubbles danced at the bottom of the app. I waited impatiently for Butler to finish typing.
Agent Butler: Okay to lean on Travis but not collect money. You don’t have clearance to do anything illegal.
I wasn’t surprised at Mark’s line in the sand. The military had their own chain of command to follow when it came to operations that crossed lines, but I’d heard that the FBI had to petition the Department of Justice for informants to participate in illegal acts without prosecution. With this all happening so fast, there had been no time.
Chance: Copy that. Nolan’s partnered me up with one of his goons. Will do what I can to get him to incriminate himself. Will call when we get there.
Agent Butler: We’re in the van now. If your life is in danger, get out. We can try again another day.
Chance: Copy. Keep her safe for me.
Agent Butler: Done.
I pocketed the phone, then waltzed out the door and climbed into the SUV with Brick, my new partner. The guy resembled his moniker—he was one large, rectangular man.
Thirty minutes later, I was staring at a rundown building in a sketchy industrial neighborhood. The whole ride, Brick had been swallowing nonstop and wiping sweat off his brow, all while sneaking glances at me. That worked for me. I liked it when I made men nervous. That tended to discourage them from doing anything stupid, which meant I could focus on Travis White. I seriously hoped the gym owner would be smart enough to understand my signals and play along.
Opening the solid, dented metal door, I choked on the wave of gym funk and mold escaping. Hard-hitting rap music droned in the background, but no one was working out in the huge ring stationed in the center of the oversized room.
The line of punching bags along the west wall remained empty, as did the well-used weight-lifting equipment in the north section. In fact, I didn’t see anyone.
Twisting away from Brick in a show of scoping out the gym, I casually reached into my pants pocket and redialed Agent Butler’s number. This time Mark and a team of agents would be listening in directly as it recorded.
A physically fit, Latino-Caucasian man in his early thirties lumbered through a door marked SHOWERS AND OFFICE. A white towel hung around his neck and loose athletic shorts hung off his hips. He paused when he spied me and Brick, and his jaw tightened.
“I’ve got nothing for you, gentlemen,” he barked, storming closer. “How many times do I have to tell you that before it sinks in?”
Brick bristled. “You knew when you took the money you’d have to pay it back.” He smoothed his lapels. “My boss is fed up, and he’s calling in your debt.”
I had to clench my jaw to keep it from dropping. I didn’t think Brick knew how to string two words together, let alone come up with something that sounded so businesslike.
Travis White looked unimpressed.
“My boss can’t let it get around he’s giving out free money.” Brick made a tsk sound. “That’s not good business. And he won’t tolerate those who make him look bad.”
“Oh, yeah?” Travis eyed Brick, then me. “You going to try to hurt me again?”
Brick motioned to me. “My friend here is going to collect what you owe, including interest.” The thug leaned forward. “Or he’s going to make an example out of you. Clean up this mess… permanently .”
A jolt rocketed through me, though I didn’t let it show. I’d never agreed to kill anyone. Just what was Nolan playing at? Did he think the threat of a murder rap would keep me compliant and under his thumb?
A muscle in Travis’s jaw ticked, and he focused his brown eyes on me. Having taken my measure, Travis pulled the towel from around his neck. Smart move. “Military?”
“Yep.” I nodded.
“I’m betting Special Ops?”
“SEAL,” I admitted, not seeing a reason to hide it.
Travis whistled. “A badass, then.” He balled the towel and tossed it well out of reach. Another smart move. The terry cloth would’ve made a great garrote. “Why’s a guy who served our country working for a lowlife like Nolan? You really okay playing thug?”
I shrugged. “I’ve got my reasons.”
In response, Travis threw a left hook.
My forearm vibrated from the impact, barely saving my face in time. Guy was damn quick. I countered with a right hook.
Travis blocked and the two of us jabbed and countered. We didn’t put our all into the fight. Instead, we were testing each other’s reflexes and weaknesses. Outside of learning one of Travis’s tells—the boxer dropped his shoulder before a punch—I quickly realized the man had been in the service. The way he moved had all the earmarks of military training. I could use that.
“Would one of those reasons be a girl?” Travis goaded, kicking at my knee.
I twirled, swiping my leg behind Travis’s planted foot. It connected, sweeping the boxer onto his back. Before I could follow through, Travis rolled backwards and popped back to his feet.
“Yeah, it’s definitely a girl,” Travis continued, circling to the right. I let him keep talking. I had to get the boxer to comply with the plan I’d made up a second ago.
Travis kept even with me. “What’s she think of you doing this?”
“Stormed out of the room.” I led Travis around till my back was to Brick. Then I held up one hand in a stop right there gesture. Once I saw Travis had noticed it, I put my plan into action. Using the hand signals I’d learned in basic training, I beckoned Travis to come at me with a left hook.
Travis’s brows drew down and I signaled again. Do it now .
The boxer complied. At the last moment, I slid to the right, and Travis connected with Brick’s temple instead.
Brick hit the mat, knocked out cold.
“White flag.” I threw my hands up. Even though I hadn’t been putting everything into it, boxing with Travis was still a workout. My shirt was drenched with sweat, and I wanted to rip the heat-insulating suit coat off and burn it.
Travis jerked to a halt, his chest heaving, sweat dripping down his face. “What’s going on?”
I yanked my phone out and spoke into the microphone. “You get that?” I asked, then took the phone off mute.
“Yeah, but what happened?” Agent Butler responded. “I only had sound, and a thump doesn’t tell me anything.”
“Brick’s out cold. Travis is not a threat. Come on in.” Hanging up and tucking the phone back into my pocket, I shook Travis’s hand. “Thanks, man.”
Travis didn’t look pleased at the lack of explanation. “You could’ve done that yourself.” He motioned to Brick’s body lying in a heap. “Why’d you need me?”
“You started the fight before I could signal you that I’m actually here undercover,” I answered bluntly, rifling through Brick’s pockets and removing his phone and weapons. The Glock and backup 9mm I’d hand off to Agent Butler, but I was keeping the knife. “I went with it, playing along so Brick wouldn’t warn Nolan.” I shot Travis a wry smile. “Seconds in, I realized I was dealing with another military man who knows what he’s doing. Figured you’d enjoy knocking the asshole out, and to be honest, I couldn’t afford to take a nap if you really put your heart into the fight.”
“You’re going after Nolan.” Travis tested his busted knuckles with his fingers.
My own bruised hands throbbed in time with my heartbeat after two fights in one day, but I ignored it. The punch to my cheek was harder to overlook. Thank you, Travis .
“You working with the Feds or something?”
“Yep. I’m helping build a case against that bastard.” I hustled to the door when I heard tires screech outside. “And you were right.” I peeked over my shoulder. “It’s about a girl.”
I pushed the door open, and two agents ran into the gym—one to handcuff Brick, the other to corral Travis.
Mandy stepped down from the van and I closed the distance between us in three long strides. Mandy was frowning, and I thought she might yell at me, but she flung her arms wide, and I swept her up. When she kissed me hard—and I kissed her harder—I knew I’d never let her go again.