Chapter 15
CHAPTER 15
A n hour later, Lark chewed on her thumbnail as she sat in the back of the white panel van Ren used as a mobile surveillance unit, trying to ignore the spot where her shoulder was pressed up against his.
His focus was on the computer screen in front of him. He probably had no idea every molecule in her body was tuned in to where she was touching him.
She could feel the warmth of his body through her sweatshirt. It felt so good.
Which was not at all what she should be thinking about when they were only a block away from the man who tried to kill her and would keep trying until he succeeded.
Lark took a deep breath and did her best to focus on the important tidbits of info in this scenario. Tidbit number one: her would be killer was out of the hospital, and his first stop was a coffee shop. He was currently sipping a tall black coffee while perusing his laptop, probably searching for her. She wasn’t sure if she should be comforted by the fact that he needed some caffeine before he got back out there to commit murder, or terrified by how casual he seemed about the whole thing.
Tidbit number two: Tenley was shockingly quick to agree to approach a killer. Her total lack of nerves scared the crap out of Lark, frankly speaking, because what kind of person wasn’t afraid of a contract killer? Worse yet, what kind of person seemed excited by the prospect of tangling with one?
Tidbit number three: The table scraps she’d given to Dammit George had been a mistake. The gas he was emitting from his position in the passenger seat of the van could be weaponized and used in battle against the forces of evil.
“Told you the chicken lo mein wasn’t in our best interests,” Ren grumbled.
She frowned at him. “Don’t act all innocent. You know as well as I do that he’s at least ten pounds overweight. He didn’t get that way on dog food alone.”
He sighed. “Twenty. And…touché.”
“Aw, you guys are so cute and domesticated,” Tenley said as she casually strolled toward the coffee shop as if she was going to meet a friend for a latte instead of spying on a contract killer.
“Glad the com earrings are working. And shut up,” Ren said.
Tenley’s laugh was downright evil. “I will shut up, but only because you made sure the earrings are freakin’ adorable.”
They were, too. To a casual observer, the earrings were classic, brushed platinum clip-ons with a stunning 3 carat, natural pearl in the center. No one would be able to guess that they were also a sophisticated, wireless communication device that allowed them to monitor Tenley’s entire interaction with the hit man and let her signal them for help if she needed it.
But something told Lark she wouldn’t need it. Tenley didn’t strike her as the damsel in distress type.
Ren’s brow furrowed as he watched on his laptop monitor as Tenley strolled casually toward the coffee shop with her classy silk blouse, pencil skirt, Birkin bag, and shoes that probably cost more than Lark’s car. “If anything seems off—anything at all—I want you to get out of there, OK, Ten?”
She blew a raspberry and fluffed her hair. “Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it, sweetheart. I’ve got this.”
Lark couldn’t help but smile. “I wish I had her confidence.”
Ren snorted. “There are MMA fighters twice her size that don’t have her confidence.”
“I’m here,” Tenley said, reaching for the door of the coffee shop.
“If you need me, just use the codeword and I’ll get you out,” he reminded her.
“Just so you know, pistachio is a really weird safe word.”
“Codeword,” he corrected quickly. “Not safe word. There’s a difference.”
The way his gaze shifted over to Lark at the mention of a safe word made her a little weak in the knees. Weak as in she probably wouldn’t be able to close them if he so much as breathed on her at this point.
“TTFN,” Tenley sing-song’d, then shut down her receiver.
Lark sucked in a deep breath. “Do you really think this will work?”
“If it doesn’t, it’ll be the technology’s fault, because Tenley Taylor doesn’t fail.”
The way his voice warmed up when he talked about Tenley tugged at her heartstrings. “How did the two of you meet?”
He kept his eyes on the monitor where they saw Tenley scrolling on her phone while she waited for her coffee order, but said to her, “School had just started, and there was a group of older kids who decided I was an easy target. They were in the process of trying to stuff me into my locker when Tenley came along. She was just a scrawny little thing, no bigger than me, but she took on four boys twice her size and managed to send one of them to the hospital. No one ever bothered me again after that. And we’ve been friends ever since.”
“That’s why you’ve watched over her all these years,” Lark said quietly. “Because she watched out for you when you needed it.”
“Exactly.”
Even in the short amount of time they’d spent together, Lark was really beginning to understand how Ren’s mind worked. Not the genius part. Hell, she could barely balance her own checkbook, let alone design apps that clone PCs and rig the state lotto. But the sweet, protective, antisocial, slightly socially awkward parts of Ren…now those she was starting to understand. And like.
Really, really like.
Ren’s phone made a noise. “Tenley’s spotted our guy,” he said. “She’s approaching.”
Lark turned her attention back to the screen. Through the hidden camera in the brooch on Tenley’s blouse, she saw him. “That’s him?”
Ren nodded. “That’s the guy I saw. And it was confirmed by the hospital. Gunshot wound to the right thigh.”
“But he looks so…”
“Normal?”
Hot. That cold-blooded fucker could be a model, and it just pissed Lark off. People who took money in exchange for murdering strangers should be ugly. That would just make sense, karmically speaking. But her would-be murderer was genetically blessed in a way that was just offensive. There were Italian underwear models who weren’t as hot as this asshole, for fuck’s sake!
If she had to guess, she’d say he was lighter than Ren by a substantial amount of bulky muscle, but close to his height. And while Ren looked like a power lifter who could crush a watermelon with his biceps, this guy looked more like an Olympic swimmer—lean, but strong.
Messy coal-black hair, melted dark chocolate eyes, cheekbones you could perform surgery with, highly kissable mouth, smooth, olive-toned skin, scruff that looked at least an hour or two past 5 ‘o’clock shadow, wearing a designer suit like it was his damn job…yeah, it was a lot to take in.
The cane leaning against his table did Lark’s heart a little bit of good, though. He might have the face of a fallen angel, but thanks to Sherry, he at least wasn’t going to be running after her or anyone else anytime soon.
“Showtime,” Ren murmured, watching Tenley approach the abnormally good-looking contract killer.
Tenley had grabbed her drink and was seemingly scrolling on her phone one-handed as she got within range of the killer so that Ren’s device could synch to his laptop and phone. As they watched on the computer monitor, she faked a stumble (it looked real enough, but Lark was willing to bet good money that Tenley could run a mile and kick someone’s ass in four-inch heels, so it was definitely a fake stumble). That stumble allowed her to bump the killer’s shoulder with her hip, distracting him while she got her phone closer to his computer.
“Get it a little closer, Ten,” Ren said into his com device. “Just like another half inch or so.”
The killer glanced up at her, brow furrowed. Tenley set her phone and coffee down on his table, giving both a nudge toward his computer, then gasped and raised one well-manicured hand to her chest. “Oh, my Lord,” she said in a high, lilting drawl so different than her real voice that Lark was momentarily stunned speechless. “I am so sorry. I’m such a klutz. I slipped right off my heel, can you believe it?”
She lifted one foot onto the extra chair at his table, giving him a good, long look at her leg. His eyes moved up that leg slowly, and by the time his gaze met hers, his brow had smoothed out and he even offered her a little smile. “Those do look dangerous,” he said smoothly. Lark wasn’t sure if he meant the heels, or the legs. Not that it mattered. The statement would apply to both.
Tenley offered him a sly smile in return and twirled a lock of hair around her index finger. “You know it. But I truly am just mortified that I nearly fell at your feet like that.”
His gaze shifted back to her legs for a moment when she put her foot back on the floor. Lark could see his eyes darken even through the computer monitor. Clearly, he was thinking about Tenley on the floor at his feet. Probably on her knees. “Well, I’m truly glad you weren’t hurt.”
She giggled, and it sounded like freakin’ bells. “How does she do that with her voice?” Lark asked.
“That’s Savannah,” Ren answered. “One of Tenley’s favorite alternate identities. She can do that voice in her sleep if she has to.”
Which was scary and super cool all at the same time. Lark couldn’t do any sexy alternate voices. She could do a pretty decent impression of Patrick Star from SpongeBob . But something told her she couldn’t use that to her advantage, like Tenley used Savanah to hers.
Tenley put her hand on the killer’s shoulder. “Thank the good Lord I didn’t spill coffee on your beautiful suit.” She trailed her fingers down the length of his arm, lingering at his thick wrist. “Armani?”
“Gucci,” he answered.
“Nice,” she cooed.
Ren hit a few keys on his computer. “OK, Ten, I got it. You can get out of there. Swap your coffee for his on the way out, though.”
In a couple of smooth motions, Tenley tapped the killer’s nose with her index finger ( oh my God, she booped the snoot of a killer! ), grabbed her phone and his coffee, and grinned at him. “I’ve enjoyed our conversation, handsome, but I gotta bounce. You have a great day now, you hear?”
His confused sounding “you too” followed her as she practically skipped out the door.
“Wow,” Lark said, feeling as stunned as the killer looked. “She’s…”
“Terrifying?” Ren supplied.
“Um…yeah. And really, really badass. I wish I had a little of…whatever it is that she has.”
He glanced over at her and frowned. “That’s the last thing I’d ever want. More than anything, I wish she was more like you.”
Lark swallowed hard at the vehemence in his voice. In their (admittedly short) time together, she’d never heard him speak with that kind of passion. Intensity, sure. He was brimming with that. But passion? This was new. “Why me? I’m nothing special.”
Ren shook his head, looking at her like she’d just lapsed into a language he didn’t speak. “Nothing special? Are you kidding? You’re open and honest with your feelings in a way that Tenley and I just…aren’t. You care about people. Not just the people close to you, but all people. While Tenley and I were stealing, you were volunteering your time to every good cause you came across. Hell, you kept dating a stupid fucker who was so far beneath you it was laughable because you didn’t want to hurt him. You’ve never passed by an animal in need without rescuing it. You’ve got an IQ higher than seventy-five percent of the population and you never use it to make anyone feel small. From where I’m standing, all that makes you pretty damn special.”
She blinked at him, wondering if anyone had ever said something that nice to her. If they had, she couldn’t remember. Other than her parents, of course. “But Tenley is?—”
“Tenley’s amazing,” he admitted. “But she’s seen the worst mankind has to offer. When you see that kind of shit as a young person, it shapes you—and not always in a good way. She’s amazing despite how she was raised. You had a great childhood. Saw that mankind isn’t always shitty. You had choices. Way more than Tenley had. And you chose to be a person who cares about, well, everyone .” He shrugged. “You didn’t have to, though. You could’ve grown up to be a rich entitled asshole. I wish Tenley could’ve had the option to become a rich entitled asshole, too.”
Lark had been wishing for years, maybe even her whole life, for the type of butterflies-in-the-stomach, overwhelming, heart-pounding, rush of emotion that the characters in her favorite romance novels seemed to always have for each other. She’d never experienced it. Not with anyone she’d ever dated.
She’d even brought it up with Neal once. It had concerned her that she didn’t get butterflies thinking about him, and she wondered if he felt that way about her. He’d laughed off her concerns, telling her she just had unrealistic expectations. That people simply never wanted anyone as much as characters in her books. She’d believed him, too, because it made sense.
Until this moment, in this car, with this man.
She was sitting in a surveillance van with a man who had admitted to being a career criminal, a man who’d stalked her for half her life and had kidnapped her (kind of). And she wanted him with a fierceness that was equal parts thrilling and terrifying.
“I wish you’d had that option too,” she admitted quietly.
And she meant that with her whole heart. The scared, mistreated little boy he’d been when she met him deserved the kind of childhood she’d had.
The kind of childhood he’d helped facilitate for her.
Without him, she wasn’t sure what would’ve happened. Would her father have gotten a new job and gotten them out of that trailer park? Probably. But she couldn’t be sure. She definitely wouldn’t have won the lottery without him and been able to pay off her parents’ house or buy one of her own. She’d had a great childhood and an even better young adulthood because of him.
Even now, he was risking his life to protect her. And he hadn’t asked for anything from her. Hell, if Neal had done for her half of what Ren had, he’d probably expect blowjobs every night for the rest of his life. But all Ren seemed to want was her safety. If the death threat hadn’t popped up, she was 100% confident Ren never would’ve even let her know he existed.
Shit…was it weird that she was now a tiny bit grateful to a contract killer for bringing her face-to-face with Ren again for the first time since they were kids? Probably. But that wasn’t even the biggest, most pressing issue on her mind at the moment.
Because as she sat here, feeling all these big feelings, she had no idea what Mr. Stone Face over there was feeling for her .
She cleared her throat. “Ren, what do you?—”
Dammit George stood up and his butt started wiggling so ferociously that it shook the entire van. Lark had no idea what he was so excited about until Tenley slid the van door open and hopped in.
The hopping was actually impressive. Lark was fairly certain she wouldn’t be able to walk a straight line in Tenley’s heels, let alone hop into a van.
She handed Ren the coffee cup and slammed the door shut behind her. “That was even easier than I thought. Guess I’m lucky he wasn’t gay. Then you would’ve had to get close to him and I would’ve had to work the computer. That would’ve been weird.”
Ren snorted as he dusted the cup for prints, found one, and scanned it into his computer. “That guy would’ve taken one look at me and known something was up.”
Lark figured that was true. A predator was bound to be able to identify a bigger predator on sight.
Tenley jerked her chin toward Ren’s computer. “I assume you now know everything there is to know about our friendly neighborhood assassin?”
Ren glanced over at Lark, and it took her a second or two, but she realized he was hesitant to talk about the killer in front of her. She gave him a wry smile. “I think we’re past the point where you can protect me from the truth. Might as well spill it.”
He sighed. “I figured out who he was based on the data I pulled from his laptop, and the fingerprint confirmed it. Our guy is named Nico Fortunato. Known on the dark web as Lucky. Has a reputation for being…” he trailed off, glancing back at Lark somewhat regretfully before adding, “…thorough.”
Well, thorough couldn’t possibly be good in this instance.
“Mafia?” Tenley asked.
“Yeah.”
Lark blinked a few times at that. She thought the mafia only existed in, like, Vegas and New York. Maybe Chicago. But in this smallish Midwestern suburb? “There’s mafia here?”
“Yes,” Tenley and Ren said in stereo. Tenley added, “They aren’t based here, but the mafia is branching out to the suburbs all over the country these days. Lots of money here. Russians, Italians, Irish…you can find them all around here.”
Lark digested that info as best she could, but still felt like she was living in some kind of weird fever dream. “Why would the mafia want me dead?”
“Not necessarily the mafia,” Ren said. “He might’ve taken the contract on the side.”
“Is there enough on his computer or phone to figure out who hired him?” Tenley asked.
Ren squinted at his computer screen while typing so fast his fingers were practically a blur. “It’s there. Encrypted. It’ll just take a little time to find it,” he mumbled.
Lark was still struggling with the fact that she was staggeringly attracted to Ren, who was currently trying to track down her potential murderer. Good Lord, how had this become her life?
Tenley reached over and patted her knee. “Don’t worry. Tons of people had someone try to kill them at one point or another.”
Lark wasn’t necessarily sure that was true. But she appreciated the attempt to make her feel better, nonetheless.
“Oh,” Tenley added, reaching into her cleavage. “I stole the guy’s watch. Here, you can have it.”
Ren glanced over. “That’s a nice one.”
“Yeah,” Tenley said. “Vintage. It was affordable when it was made, but now, I bet you could get 10k out of it if you found the right buyer.”
Lark glanced at the killer’s watch. She had zero clue how to go about finding a buyer for a stolen watch—especially a contract killer’s stolen watch. But the look on Tenley’s face was so friendly she couldn’t bring herself to mention that. This was clearly an offer designed to make her feel better about her current situation. “Um…thank you very much.”
“Holy shit,” Ren muttered, giving his laptop a glare so intense Lark was surprised the screen didn’t crack under the weight of all that focus.
“What is it?” she asked.
Then he looked at her, and she wished he would’ve kept his eyes on the computer. Because she did not like the look in his eyes as he added, “The computer that was used to access the dark net and hire Fortunato.”
“What about it?” she whispered.
“It was Neal’s.”
In the cold silence that followed Ren’s proclamation, Tenley was the first to find her voice. “Here.”
Lark glanced down to find that Tenley had pressed Neal’s wallet into her hand. She lifted her confused gaze to Tenley’s.
“I stole it from him at the diner before you guys came in.” Tenley shrugged. “Doesn’t feel right to keep it now.”
Yeah. She could imagine.