Chapter 10
Dae
“Are you listening to me?” Taehyun asks through the phone.
“Barely.” I stare up at the sign of the place where Kennedy texted me to meet her. A slow grin splits my lips.
“Am I inconveniencing you? It’s not like I stayed up half the fucking night to have this call or anything,” he gripes.
I ignore his bitching. “You sleep about as much as I do. If not less,” I remind him.
The double-digit time difference between Williamsport and South Korea isn’t as much of a factor as Taehyun complains about since he hates sleeping.
“Still, there’s a ton of work I need to complete over the next few days. I could put my time to better use if you’re going to ignore me.”
“I’m not ignoring you. The Wilson papers are signed, we’re breaking ground on that project in fifteen days, and you’re working on getting approval for the purchase of the Brooks property. Did I get everything?”
“Yeah,” he admits begrudgingly. “I hear noise in the background. You’re not in your office. Where are you?”
“A shooting range.” I peer up at the sign again. ‘Take Your Best Shot’ shooting range. This is the place Kennedy wanted to meet. I should’ve known she’d pick someplace like this.
“For what?”
“A date.”
He sputters, and I chuckle.
“With …”
“Her.”
I don’t need to elaborate. There are two people close enough to me in this world to know who I’m talking about when I say her.
“Why would you choose a place with bullets and guns as a date?”
“She chose it. And she doesn’t know it’s a date yet.”
He snorts. “Of course. Just like she doesn’t realize you’ve been stalking her for the past ten years.”
I frown at the word stalking. “Fuck you.”
“That word gets your attention.” The laughter in his voice makes me want to wrap my hands around his throat.
I tell him as much, which makes the bastard laugh even more. Before I can threaten him again, Kennedy pulls into the parking lot.
“I’m hanging up.”
“Don’t get shot,” he quips before disconnecting the call.
I watch as she parks at the far end of the parking lot. I’m sure she saw me. It’s not like my white Porsche SUV can be missed. Not to mention, I’m standing directly next to it and staring right at her.
She parked that far on purpose.
I wait to approach her, though.
I rely on my greatest asset—my patience—to help me not to fuck this up. But when I think I’ve gotten myself together enough, I see a man walking in her direction. From my distance, the look on Kennedy’s face doesn’t read recognition.
The bastard is smiling at her, though. I know that fucking look.
My feet move before I give it much thought. He doesn’t sense me approaching from behind.
“Nice car.” He whistles. “It’s almost as beautiful as you.” His head bobs up and down as if he’s checking her out from head to toe.
It’s good that I’m not close enough to wrap my arms around his neck right now. I might snap the damn thing right here in broad daylight.
“Is this your first time at the range? I love a woman who knows how to handle a gun. Why don’t we—”
“Unless it’s your goal to spend the next six weeks eating through a straw, I suggest you back the hell off.”
My voice isn’t raised, but it still makes him jump in surprise. “What … who …” he starts to ask as he turns my way.
I don’t say anything, yet he takes a look at my hands clenched at my side and possibly at the lethal look in my eyes and takes a step back. And then another.
“Hey, man, I didn’t know.” He holds his hands up, surrendering something that was never fucking his in the first place.
“You were leaving, weren’t you?”
I dismiss him with a look because he’s already heading back to his car. I turn to the woman who brought me here. Her eyes are narrowed.
“What the hell was that?”
“That was me taking out the trash.” Hell, that isn’t the first male I’ve made steer clear of Kennedy.
I move closer and gesture toward the shooting range. “Interesting place to meet.”
She cuts her eyes from me to the guy now pulling out of the parking lot. “I could’ve … would’ve gotten rid of him myself.”
“Are we still talking about someone who doesn’t matter?” I raise an eyebrow.
She looks at me with that beautiful fire in her copper eyes. “I thought you would appreciate this place.” She smiles, but it’s very obviously fake.
I’ll turn it genuine soon enough.
“Your first time at a shooting range?” she asks.
“Sure is.”
“You’ll have fun while you answer my questions about Blackmon.” She brings up his name as if to remind me this is the only reason she’s here.
I step to the side. “After you.”
The owner greets us as we enter.
“I didn’t schedule a private lesson,” Kennedy says, confused.
“I did.” When she texted me the location, I called and upgraded the lesson.
Kennedy narrows her eyes at me.
“Before we get started, I need to go over a few safety protocols with you,” the owner tells us.
Instead of listening to him go on about safety instructions and bullshit, I watch Kennedy intently. She’s taking in everything he says. She’s cautious with how she holds the weapons we’ve chosen for our lesson.
I get lost in watching her.
“We’ll be in the largest private range today. It’s usually occupied on Saturdays until closing, but lucky for us, we had a cancellation.”
Cancellation my ass. It was the extra money I paid to kick whoever had a reservation out of here for the next few hours.
“Like this?” Kennedy asks as she holds the handgun with both hands and aims it directly at the target down range.
“Yes, that’s right,” the owner says, sounding proud. “Plant your left foot slightly farther back. And pivot your hips a little forward. Like this …” He steps closer and moves his arms as if he’s about to place them on her waist.
“No.” Comes out in a low but menacing tone.
Kennedy’s too focused on the target with a large pair of headphones over her ears to have heard.
He blinks and looks at me. Clearing his throat, he takes a step back.
“Like this?” she asks again.
“Yes.” The owner nods before giving her the go ahead to shoot.
She lets out three shots back to back. Two bullets hit the target’s lower half. The third hits just above the shoulder. Her lips twist in disappointment.
She pulls off headphones at the same time she says, “It’s been a while since I’ve held one of these.”
“Not bad,” the owner tells her. “Why don’t you give it another try? This time …” He raises his arm as if about to place it on her shoulder but pauses. He glances my way, then lowers his hand.
“Adjust your shoulders toward the target a little more and give it another go.”
This time, Kennedy’s aim is even better. If the target were a real person, they wouldn’t get up from those shots.
“Excellent job, Kennedy,” the owner says.
He looks my way. “Would you like to give it a shot?” He laughs as if he’s made the funniest joke in the world. “A little range humor.” He chuckles still.
“Why don’t you give us some alone time to practice?” I suggest, but anyone within hearing distance of my voice recognizes that it’s not a suggestion.
“Sure, sure.” He looks between Kennedy and me. “I’ll return in a bit. I need to check on the other ranges as well.”
I watch him leave and shut the door behind him. Slowly, I turn back to face Kennedy. She’s standing there with one hand on her hip, and the hand with the gun in it pointed at the floor.
She’s glaring at me.
Fuck all if she isn’t the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.
“You changed the reservation I made,” she accuses.
“A private space is better for this conversation, isn’t it?”
Her eyes narrow. I move closer, and though she does her best to hold onto her apparent anger, I don’t miss the vein in her neck that beats faster at my nearness.
“What game are you playing?”
“I quit playing games a long time ago.”
She turns her head from me and places the gun on the ledge before folding her arms across her chest.
“You’re really here to talk about Blackmon?”
That, among other things. “Yes.”
She stares down range, contemplatively. “You don’t trust him,” she says, turning back to me.
“I trust very few people.” I slide my hands into my pockets.
“Why don’t you trust him, specifically?”
“He’s cheap.”
She snorts. “You don’t like him because he stiffed you on a business dinner?” She rolls her eyes. “I’ll make sure to include that in my write up.”
“Make sure to include the bastard doesn’t like paying for quality. In any form.”
“What does that mean?”
“You can tell a lot about a person by how they’re willing and unwilling to spend money.”
“Money isn’t everything,” she counters.
“It’s not.” I shake my head in agreement. “But our values are displayed by what we spend money on. Agreed?”
She nods.
“Pissing off a dinner bill is one thing. Finding every possible manner to cut corners when it comes to your business, including when it comes to hiring qualified staff, the best quality products, and security, is a different beast.”
Even before my uncle’s death, I noticed Blackmon’s penchant for cutting corners. He often worked to convince my uncle to skimp on the quality of liquor we sold or complained about paying our staff too much.
One of the first orders of business, once my uncle passed, was to get Blackmon to relinquish his role as a partial owner because I wasn’t putting up with that bullshit.
I tell Kennedy as much.
She doesn’t say anything for a while. I can see the wheels in that pretty head of hers churning. She’s so sexy when she’s contemplative.
“Now I have a question for you,” I say. “What exactly are you investigating Blackmon for?”
She firms her lips together.
“No, Kennedy.”
Her eyes widen, and that vein in her neck quickens a touch.
“I gave you something. You give me something. Why are you investigating Blackmon?”
“I don’t know you. How do I know if I tell you my suspicions, you won’t go back and tell him? Or someone else?”
“Because I’ll give you my word. You can trust me, Kennedy.”
She twists her lips. “I didn’t become an investigative journalist because I trust easily.”
A chuckle spills from my lips. “No, I suppose not. Still, you can trust what I say. Whatever is shared between you and me won’t go further than that.”
She continues to remain quiet. Instead of a reply, she studies me, searching for the truth, I suppose. I let her stare because maybe she’ll finally realize who she belongs to.
She takes a step back with a sigh. I loathe the loss of eye contact. Rubbing her hands together, she glances around the room.
“An employee of his died,” she finally says. “It was a suicide, and she did it at the restaurant where she worked.”
I stiffen.
“When?”
“Four months ago.”
I wrack my brain, searching for the memory, but it never comes to me. Besides, I wouldn’t need to think too hard about hearing someone having committed suicide on the premises of a former business partner of mine.
“I’m pretty sure he had someone cover it up for him,” she continues. “There weren’t any articles or other news coverage of it.”
“How did it land on your radar?” I ask.
“I was investigating another case and came across the obituary. I have a contact at the coroner’s office who told me unofficially about what happened and where.”
She shrugs. “Since then, I’ve come up against every brick wall you can think of to get answers.”
Though I don’t doubt that she’s onto something, I have to ask, “What makes you believe this is anything more than a depressed employee who wanted to end it all?”
She rubs her lips together. “That very well could be the reason she took her life. Even the more experienced investigative reporters I’ve spoken to raised that question. On the surface, she didn’t have much going for her. It would seem that she just wanted it all to end. But …” Her voice trails off.
“Nothing is what it seems.”
Her eyes lock with mine. Something sparks in her eyes. I hold my breath.
Instead of recognition, however, I get her agreement.
“That’s right.” She pauses for a moment. “But I can’t get out of my head that she did it where she worked. I’ve read a little on suicide and spoken with a mental health professional on the topic. Often, the place where a person chooses to take their own life is significant.”
“That’s true,” I murmur, and then stiffen again. My big fucking mouth. I clear my throat. “That could be the case,” I amend.
“Right. So, if his employee chose to take her life in his place of business, it leads me to believe that something very wrong was going on at that workplace. And therefore, in Blackmon’s company.”
Those are all reasonable conclusions. I hear the determination in her voice as she speaks. I’ve heard it since that first night at the Black Opal when she showed up to ask about Blackmon. Kennedy can’t let things go when she has a hunch.
She’ll see this through until the end.
“Does that answer your question?” she asks after a few beats of silence.
“I suppose it does.”
She nods and turns toward the new target, which is now hanging down range. “I think it’s your turn. Do you need some help figuring it out?” She smiles sweetly.
My gaze drops to her lips, and I want to devour them. I want to see them swollen from my kisses. The thought alone nearly brings a growl out, but I stifle it.
“Careful, that’s loaded,” she says with a grin as I pick up the gun.
I dispense the clip to see it’s filled. “So it is.” I place the clip back.
“I’ll give you some room.” She starts to move away from the booth, but I wrap my free arm around her waist.
I aim the gun at the target while keeping my eyes on her. She startles when the firing gun sounds go off once, twice, three, four, five times.
I stop shooting and place the gun down, pointing down range just as the safety protocols require.
Kennedy looks at the target, and I see her eyes widen from her profile. “You said this was your first time at a gun range?”
I slowly turn to look at the target. One massive hole dead center. All five bullets passed through the same spot.
“First time at a gun range. Most definitely not my first time with a gun in my hand.”
She blinks and stares for a beat. “The military,” she says as recognition dawns in her beautiful eyes.
I nod, confirming her guess. Again, my eyes drop to her lips, and I can’t bear the separation any longer. My head drops before I give my body permission, and I brush my lips against hers. The first feel of her lips sends a torrent of emotion crashing through me.
But what’s even better is the small moan that Kennedy releases. She doesn’t pull back, doesn’t stiffen. She tilts her head up, granting me better access to her mouth. I devour it.
Everything inside of me wants to rush, but I don’t. I’ve waited years for this, and I’ll be damned if I don’t savor it. I relish every part of this kiss, allowing my lips and tongue to taste her in full. Her tiny purrs make me hungrier for her.
It takes all of my strength to pull back. Both of us are breathing heavily as I slide my hand to her hip, pulling her against me. I dip my head so that my mouth is next to her ear.
“The only reason I won’t let this go any further, for now, is because this room has cameras. And I refuse to let anyone see what you look like when you come for me, Kennedy.”
I place a kiss beneath her ear, causing an entire body shudder to rush through her.
“Our next date is mine to choose,” I say.
She rubs her lips together. “This wasn’t a date.” It comes out in a whisper, strained as if she doesn’t fully believe her words.
“Date or not, your time is mine, Kennedy.” I brush my lips against hers again because they’re so close, I can’t not touch her.
“Now,” I say, putting space between us so I can keep my word about not giving a show to whoever sits behind those cameras, “let’s finish our shooting practice.”