19. Xander #2
She fisted her hands as if to protect her fingers as the steel came into contact with her skin. I was barely five feet away now, having traded my gun for my knife as I calculated my options and opted for the one that would be the least risky for Andrie.
She must have seen or sensed me about to lunge because she screeched as I rushed forward, distracting Steve as I took two strides toward him. He whirled but wasn’t able to turn all the way around before I was on him, tackling him to the ground.
Luck was on my side, and I felt my knife slide into his side as we fell, even as I lost hold of it. We tumbled to the floor in a tangle of limbs before rising to our feet. I was quicker to get up than he was, but not by much.
Never one to sit back and wait, I launched, landing several punches and an uppercut before he stumbled back and out of reach. Smiling wickedly, he slowly pulled my knife from his side, wiping it on his leg before expertly spinning it in his hand.
“Something you should know about me,” Steve said, crouching in a ready-position. “I might not really be Steve Turner, but I was a SEAL. Before I was tossed out, anyway.”
Fuck this. I wasn’t a hero, and this wasn’t a movie. I reached behind, intent on getting my gun. Andrie, seeing my move, leaned all her weight into her right side, rocking the chair over, toppling her into Steve.
He saw her attempt to knock into him and managed to almost sidestep her but tripped, falling next to her.
It wasn’t perfect, but she’d given me enough time to grab my weapon. “Steve” rolled, ignoring Andrie, but before he could react, I pulled the trigger.
The silence in the wake of the discharge was almost deafening, but I didn’t pause.
I stepped up to the man and kicked away the knife before leaning down and checking for a pulse.
A technicality, really. The hollow point bullet made a mess of his chest. Thankfully, there wouldn’t be an exit wound, and the bulk of the blood spatter was contained to the plastic sheet.
Even as my mind went to the next step, my heart pulled me to Andrie. Turning to where she was on her side, tied to the chair, I picked the entire thing up, setting her upright. She was pale, her lips blue-tinged, eyes wide.
Recovering my knife from the floor, I cut her loose but left her sitting as I rushed to grab a towel from the kitchen. I wrapped it around her arm. Long but thankfully shallow cuts trailed down her forearm. She was bleeding like a stuck pig, but her injuries didn’t appear to be life-threatening.
“Andrie,” I said quietly, trying to get her to focus on me. “Sweetheart, look at me.”
Keeping one hand firmly on the towel, I used the other to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, resting my palm against her cheek.
She blinked slowly, but I saw when she really registered me standing in front of her.
“We’ve got to get you to the car. And I’ve got to take care of this.
Who knows if someone reported that shot, and I’m not sure who you want me to call about this. ” I motioned to the body.
“Umm.” She licked her lips, still not really focusing on the here and now.
“Okay, sweetheart.” Hating that I couldn’t give her time, I lifted her into my arms, cradling her against me like a child.
I put her into the car, thankful for the privacy the lot provided and the fact there didn’t seem to be many people home.
After getting Andrie situated in the front seat, I returned to the house, wrapping the body up in the plastic liner like a burrito before putting the entire thing into an oversized duffle bag “Steve” just so happened to have nearby.
Then I carried him out and hefted him in the trunk.
It was a tight fit, but thankfully, the small car had more trunk space than I’d originally given it credit for.
I didn’t have time for a total clean, but I did wipe down anything that might have had my fingerprints before grabbing the man’s laptop, Andrie’s belongings, and the coffee and treats.
Finally, I did a quick walk-through of the house, but I didn’t see any signs the man actually had lived there, even short-term.
No bags, clothing, nothing in the fridge, not even a damn wallet to identify him.
Locking up, I was out the door and back in the car within minutes. A glance at Andrie told me she was still in shock, but gamely, she was trying to pull herself together. Shaking, her teeth chattering, she looked around wildly. “My phone. I need to call …” she trailed off.
Pulling it out, I ignored the hand reaching for it. “What’s your passcode?” She rattled it off, not bothering to fight me. Figuring it was a toss-up between Matteo and Grimm, I thumbed through her contacts, hitting Grimm’s name when it came up first.
As soon as he answered, I told him to hold on as I conferenced Matteo in. As soon as I had them both on the phone, I told them I had a matter I could use their expertise on.
Cluing into my desire to keep everything off the phone lines and the unspoken need to see them quickly, Matteo offered to have us meet him at his house.
I glanced over at Andrie and considered the fact that Matteo had a woman and child living with him, and I was driving a car with a dead body in the trunk.
“Actually, I think the clubhouse might be better?” I offered, hoping Matteo wouldn’t take offense to me changing his order.
“Besides,” I continued, “You know how us Iron Wraiths are. Where one of us goes, the others are quick to follow. It’ll be easier to have us all have a beer and brainstorm where we don’t have to worry about waking a kiddo from a nap. ”
“We did get a new pool table delivered. I’m sure the guys would love to break it in,” Grimm said, not missing a beat.
“Be there in fifteen,” I said before ending the call, turning my attention back to Andrie.
I’d cranked the heat on full blast as soon as I’d gotten in, but she was still shivering.
Placing my right hand on her leg, I rubbed gently, hoping to infuse some warmth into her.
I wished I had a blanket or even a sweatshirt to wrap around her, but Andrie kept her car the way she did most of her life—utterly neat and void of any personality.
The backseat looked as if nothing had been placed back there since she’d driven off the car lot.
I made short work of the drive, despite keeping to the speed limit and obeying all traffic signs. The last thing I needed was to get pulled over right now. Grimm was already there when we arrived. I still hadn’t figured out if he lived in his room there or just spent most of his time at the club.
I parked the car as close to the entrance as I could, circling the hood to open Andrie’s door. She tried to protest, but I picked her up again, carrying her into the building. Grimm held the door open for us before following me inside.
“Do I need to call Jasper?” he asked quietly when I placed her on the bar top.
“I don’t think so,” she said, even as I nodded, unwrapping the towel gently and inspecting the damage. Andrie hissed a bit as I patted the towel against the still-seeping wound.
“What happened?” he asked, after typing something on his cell phone.
“One of Andrie’s patients wasn’t actually a patient,” I explained.
“Then who the hell was he?” Matteo walked into the room.
“Apparently, sent by someone to get Andrie’s patient lists. He knew she had top operatives from just about every branch of military and alphabet soup agencies. And what the hell was he talking about, asking about ‘whispers’?”
She shifted then, and the two men glanced meaningfully at each other. “Where is he now?”
I grunted. “In a makeshift body bag in the trunk.”
“Any idea who he was?”
“Other than the fact he wasn’t Steve Turner? A former SEAL who’d been discharged at some point. I shot him center mass, so you can still run facial rec if you want,” I said, not taking my eyes from Andrie. “Can someone get a blanket and tell me what the hell he was talking about?”
“Us,” Lessia said, coming from the hidden room. “He might have been talking about us.”