Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Fear had her running blindly.
Hello, story of my new life. Her bare feet sank into the cold, wet ground. She hadn’t even realized that her shoes and socks were gone, not until she’d jumped off the wooden porch. As soon as the sludge oozed up between her toes, she’d realized that fleeing without shoes probably wasn’t the best plan.
But then the hitman had leapt through the window as he shouted her name, so stopping and grabbing shoes hadn’t exactly been an option.
Oh, he sounds pissed.
A pissed, confessed killer. How wonderful for her.
Fleeing without shoes was bad.
But staying back in the cabin, with the big, dangerous, predator who’d kidnapped her? Even worse plan. So, yes, as they’d talked, she’d acted for all that she was worth. Pretended that she believed his crazy story, and then she’d run.
She was still running, hoping that she’d see some light in the darkness. That she could find some help. That she could get away and survive. But there was just blackness ahead. She could hear insects chirping and croaks that— please, please be from frogs and not alligators— and Luna just kept running because there was no alternative. If she wanted to keep living, she had to keep going and?—
She hit the ground. Not because she tripped and fell like a horror movie queen, but because a massive hitman had just slammed into her. He fell down on top of her, caging her, and for a moment, terror held her still against the dank earth.
This is it. He’s going to kill me right now. The end. This is how I go out. Face down in the mud and muck.
“Pain in the ass,” he groused. And he…lifted up. Flipped her over. But he caught her wrists and pinned them to the ground even as his legs went between her spread thighs.
Way, way too intimate.
He was a giant, menacing shadow above her, and his grip on her wrists seemed utterly unbreakable. More unbreakable than handcuffs.
“How does this make sense?” he snarled. “I tell you that I’m the person protecting you. And you immediately run from me. Do you want to be gator bait?”
Not particularly, she did not. “You’re the person who brought me to a scary cabin in the bayou. And you’re a killer.”
“I haven’t killed you.”
Not yet. No. Her breath huffed out.
His didn’t. He’d been running after her, and he wasn’t even breathing hard? How was that not extra terrifying?
I hit him. He’s going to be so angry with me…
“Fucking sonofafucker.” An enraged growl. And then he…
Let her go?
He did. He let her go. She started to scramble up?—
Only for him to grab something that had been right beside her head. He yanked it up. Wait, what is that? A twig? No, way bigger. A branch? A ? —
OhmyGod. It was a crazy long snake that he picked up and threw away from her.
“Thanks so much for that,” he snapped at her. “Could have gone my whole life without doing that shit. Freaking snake wrangling now. Gray owes me so much for this job.”
Did he truly mean Gray as in Grayson Stone? The Fed that she’d planned to meet in New Orleans? She was too scared to really hope.
But the hitman was on his feet, and he’d hauled her up. Not just up. He tossed her over his shoulder, and when she squirmed, he?—
“I will spank that sweet ass if you don’t stop. I am not in the mood for more snakes. We’re going back to the cabin, Gray will vouch for me, and you will cooperate. Or else I’ll leave you on your own and you can face the rest of the hired killers that come to claim the bounty on your head.”
Definitely pissed.
He stomped back toward the cabin. She didn’t fight because—what would fighting do, right then? She’d seen for herself that no one else was close by. Running in the dark had just gotten her nearly bitten by a snake, and her captor had chased her down with crazy, super speed.
But he hadn’t hurt her.
He was swearing and stomping and holding her tightly. One of his hands was right beneath her ass, clamped along the back of her upper thighs, and each angry step he took had her bouncing and thudding into him.
“This is what happens when you do one good fucking deed,” he seethed. “You have to throw snakes in the dark. Who wants to do that shit? Not. Me.”
They were back at the cabin. He kicked open the front door. Stalked inside. Kicked the door closed as soon as they were past the threshold. She’d just levered herself up by pressing down on his very strong back, so she saw the wood of the door slam closed. The whole cabin seemed to shake from the impact.
Then he was stalking forward again. Cursing and muttering and going on and on about snakes. She shoved her hair out of her eyes and figured she should try calming down her captor, if that was at all possible. “Look, could you— ah!”
He’d hauled her off his shoulder and planted her into a wooden chair. His hands clamped down on the arms of the chair as he caged her in place. “That was a water moccasin.”
He’d been able to tell that in the dark? He must have phenomenal night vision. She had really shitty night vision.
“It’s venomous. It was four freaking feet long, and it was about to bite you because you’d nearly run right on top of it as it came out of the water!”
His eyes were icy chips of blue rage.
Luna cleared her throat. Swallowed hard. “You tackled me, so if I nearly hit the snake, isn’t that on you?”
If possible, his eyes narrowed even more. “I tackled you because you were running straight into the water. Could you even see the water?”
She’d been pretty frantic so… “Guess you have better night vision than I do.”
His nostrils flared.
Wow. This close, there was no denying the obvious. “You are awfully attractive for a hitman.”
His nostrils flared again. “You think you’re gonna charm me now, Luna?”
No, she just thought that she was helluva scared, and she’d blurted out the first thing that came to mind.
He leaned in even more. Was practically nose-to-nose with her. “Not that I’m counting,” he gritted out. “But that is the second time I saved your life. The first was when I stopped those three assholes from slashing you to pieces in the street.”
Another swallow from her. Or more like a gulp. “Sounds like you are counting to me.”
“ Luna .”
“I-I would say your name in return, but you haven’t given it to me. So… hitman. ”
His gaze assessed her. A blue that seemed to see right through Luna. A blue that was utterly inscrutable in that instant.
Her breath came out way too fast. Again, he didn’t seem to be breathing hard at all, despite the fact that he’d chased her through the night and carried her back to the cabin. “What’s your name?” she whispered.
“Ronan.” Bit off.
“Ronan…what?” Like a last name mattered, but she still asked the question anyway.
“Ronan Walker.” Snapped.
Yep, he was definitely pissed. She’d attacked him. Run. Nearly gotten bitten by a snake. “Is that your real name?”
“No.”
Well, crap. “That’s okay. I’ll still just call you Ronan.” Probably a hitman rule not to give out your real name. “Luna is my real name, by the way.”
“I know. ”
She wet her lips.
His gaze immediately dropped to her mouth. Was it her imagination or did the blue blaze even more?
“What are you going to do with me?” Luna breathed. Don’t kill me. Don’t cuff me again. Don’t drug me. Don’t put me in a trunk.
“Not what I want.” He was still looking at her mouth.
What kind of answer was that? “Ronan?”
He jerked back from her as if he’d been burned. Then he was reaching into his pocket, and he was pulling out—oh, God, he was pulling out?—
A phone.
He tapped the screen. Then glared at it. After a moment, “She’s a pain in the ass,” he announced.
Luna frowned.
“But she’s an alive pain, correct?” A man’s calm and deep voice filled the air.
Speaker phone. Ronan must have hit the speaker button so she could hear his call.
“No, she’s dead,” Ronan returned. “As far as the rest of the world is concerned, Luna Black died on a New Orleans street. Maybe her body will eventually be found. Or maybe it’s already been dumped at the bottom of the muddy Mississippi. Who knows?”
Luna realized that she’d fisted her hands.
“She doesn’t trust me,” Ronan added.
“Well, sure, you probably drugged her. And kidnapped her. A lack of trust is bound to happen,” the man said.
“Tell her to stop running from me. I’m not in the mood to chase her ass all over the bayou.” Then he turned the phone around so it faced Luna, and she realized he hadn’t just turned on the speaker option. It was a video call. She was staring straight at FBI Agent Grayson Stone.
Not that they’d ever met in person. That first meeting should have occurred in the very near future. But she’d seen pictures of Grayson before. Watched him do a few interviews on TV. So he was definitely recognizable on sight for her.
Grayson smiled at her. “Hello, Ms. Black.”
“Luna,” she mumbled. Grayson wasn’t wearing his typical suit, one of the dark ones that he tended to sport whenever he gave an interview to the media. Instead, he had on a white t-shirt. His thick hair was tousled, as if he’d been raking his fingers through it, and his gaze seemed worried as he assessed her.
“Looks like you won’t make our appointment,” Grayson noted.
Yep, looked that way. She pressed her palms to the tops of her jean-clad thighs.
“And I see you’ve met my…associate, Ronan.”
“He killed me.”
“No, he pretended to kill you. A very important distinction. And a necessary one, I’m afraid. You see, I had intel that led me to believe you would never make our meeting. Time was of the extreme essence. You had to vanish. Too many threats were closing in on you.” A pause. “Ronan was already close by. He’d been, uh, well, he’d been?—”
“Hired to kill you,” Ronan told her. “I’d already taken the hit on you.”
Her gaze shot to him. Found those incredibly blue eyes on her.
“I’d been hired to kill you,” Ronan repeated, as if she’d somehow missed the words the first time. Spoiler, she had not. “Gray reached out, offered more for me to keep you alive, so here we are.”
Grayson coughed. “Yes, right. Indeed, here we are. You’re off the radar of the bad guys and that gives me time to solidify my case. I have some operatives that have to be recovered—there is much more at stake here than you realize—so as soon as we can close our trap, I will be contacting you again.”
Wait, wait, wait. “What do you mean, as soon as you can close your trap?” Her right hand shot up to grab the phone. Except when she did that, she wound up putting her fingers on top of Ronan’s and that weird awareness pulsed through her again.
What was up with that? Why was she attracted to the man who’d been hired to kill her?
No, not kill you. Grayson is telling you that Ronan is here to protect you.
But…Ronan had killed other people, hadn’t he? And if Grayson hadn’t reached out to the hitman…would Ronan have killed her? Would he have gone through with the hit?
“Why are you looking at me that way?” Ronan asked.
“Uh, hello?” From Grayson. “How about someone look at me? What is the point of a video call if no one is seeing me? And, look, it’s the middle of the night. I should be getting beauty rest. Hell, I should not even be on this call because the last thing I want is for anything to be traced to Luna. She needs to stay dark, understand me, Ronan? Darker than the grave.”
Like those words weren’t chilling. Goosebumps rose on her skin.
“I’ll contact you by secure means when it’s time to bring her into the light again,” Grayson added. “Until then, you stick to the woman like a second skin. She goes nowhere without you. She doesn’t get out of your sight. Because one slipup will mean she’s dead, for real, and the case I’m working will go down in flames. Those flames will burn way too many innocent people.”
That wasn’t such a great visual.
“It would be easier to keep her close,” Ronan’s growling voice returned, “if she wasn’t absolutely terrified of me.”
Sorry. That happens when I wake up handcuffed to a strange bed.
“How about you reassure her, Gray? People are always reassured by you and that big, bad Federal Agent BS you love to spout. So spout some now. Tell her to stop running. Tell her that she can trust me to make sure she’s safe.”
She was still looking at Ronan. She should probably look at Agent Stone. So she hauled her eyes down to the phone.
Grayson stared back at her. “Don’t run from Ronan. That will just piss him off.”
“It did,” she mumbled.
“And he’ll still catch you. He’s good at catching his prey.”
Yes, he’d already caught her. Twice.
But he says he saved my life twice so…
“He’ll keep you safe. If you trust nothing else, believe that. His job isn’t to kill you. It’s to?—”
“Kill anyone who comes for you,” Ronan cut in roughly.
Grayson winced. “No, dammit! The FBI is not ordering any killing! That is not what is happening here. Ms. Black—Luna—Ronan will protect you. I’m working to get a safe location and cover identities ready to go for you two. You’ll blend, you’ll hide, and before you know it, we’ll be putting a seriously dangerous individual away for life. We’ll be putting away all the criminals linked to him. Then you’ll be safe—for good—and all this will be but a distant memory for you.” He flashed a killer smile.
“Memory, nightmare. Whatever.” Ronan’s clarification.
Her fingers were still on top of his. Had she just been caressing him? Oh, please, say she had not been doing that. Luna whipped her hand back.
“Is there a problem?” Grayson inquired politely.
There were lots of problems. “Why didn’t you tell me this was going to happen? You could have given me a head’s up that I was going to be—” She broke off. “You could have warned me that Ronan was coming to kill me. ”
“Fake kill you,” Grayson corrected her. “And there was no time. Also, I didn’t exactly have a phone number for you. Our communications have been rather sketchy, yes?”
Yes, fine, they had been.
“But I believed you when you reached out to me. I verified the info you gave me. I know how valuable you are. So when I received word that you were in imminent danger, I took steps to protect you.”
“I’m steps. When Gray says steps, he means me.” Ronan kept the phone steady in front of her. He held it with his left hand.
She slowly swept her gaze from the phone to his strong wrist. A wrist covered by a big, oddly intimidating looking watch. But, beneath that watch, she could just see… “A snake?”
Ronan grunted.
“I got the feeling you hated snakes. Why do you have a tattoo of something you hate?”
“Ahem.” From Grayson. “Focus, people. Wait, just let me sum up, okay? I get that you’re running on adrenaline and fear, Luna, but Ronan is the answer to your prayers.”
Was that what he was?
“A man who will kill to keep you safe,” Ronan murmured. “If that doesn’t make you feel warm and tingly, what does?”
Her mouth opened.
“ Jeez. Ronan. Be tactful. Stop terrorizing her. Put yourself in her shoes. Wouldn’t you be scared and distrustful? It’s a normal reaction. One hundred percent normal.”
Grayson was reasonable. A point she’d always noticed about him. But… “You’re asking me to trust a hitman.”
“I’m asking you to trust a man who has proven to me, time and again, that he will be there when the world explodes and you need a hero.”
“Fuck,” Ronan groused. “Watch yourself, Gray.”
“He saved my ass not too long ago. I thought for sure I was dead, but Ronan was there for me. He hauled me out of hell.”
“You do one random act of charity, and someone can’t ever forget it.” Ronan’s hold tightened on the phone. “Be careful what you say, Gray. You’re treading on thin ice.”
The Fed was acting like Ronan was a good guy. Could a hitman be good?
A federal agent can be good. Maybe a federal agent pretending to be a hitman… Hope had her breath catching in her throat.
“Ronan is lethal. He’s conniving. He’s probably one of the most cold-blooded assholes you’ll ever meet,” Grayson said in the next breath.
Okay, so he was not the good guy. Her hope fizzled.
“And he’s exactly the protector that you need right now. Because the people coming after you? They are the kind who will torture you and make you scream for mercy. A mercy they won’t give. Ronan will shield you from them. Ronan will make sure they don’t ever touch you.”
He’d done that in the street. Stopped three guys who wanted to hurt her.
“Put your trust in him,” Grayson urged her. “He’ll see you through the dark.”
“Happy now?” Ronan wanted to know. “No more running? Gonna actually let me protect you without a fight?”
Happy wasn’t quite the right word. “Promise not to drug me again.”
“What if there are extenuating circumstances?”
On the phone’s screen, she saw Grayson pinch the bridge of his nose.
“Maybe I have to drug you to save your life,” Ronan continued. “Hate to promise not to do that when it could, in fact, be saving you.”
Her lips pressed together.
“Don’t drug her unless it’s freaking necessary, Ronan,” Grayson fired out. “Protect her. Keep her real identity secret. And contact me at the first sign of any trouble. We’ve already talked too long. I’m disconnecting.”
And he did. The screen went dark. She realized they’d been talking on an app. Probably one of the ones designed by Declan Flynn—the billionaire who had so much untraceable tech. The same billionaire who was rumored to be tied to the mob. Was it any wonder a hitman would use that guy’s tech?
Ronan shoved the phone back into his pocket. Then his hands went to his hips as he glowered down at her. “I won’t drug you unless it’s absolutely necessary.”
“Thanks so much.” She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.
“And you…no more running? Promise?”
Considering that an FBI agent had basically just told her that Ronan was standing between her and a very real death… “No more running.” She sucked in a deep breath. “And I’m sorry if I hurt you.”
“What?” His brow scrunched.
“When I pushed you off the bed. I’m sorry if I hurt you.”
“You didn’t fucking hurt me.”
“But you hit the floor hard.”
He surged forward and wrapped his tanned fingers around the arms of the chair once more. “You did not hurt me. It takes a whole lot for me to hurt.”
He was all up in her space again. That sandalwood scent of his surrounded her. He was big and strong and…dammit, sexy. “Stockholm Syndrome?”
He shook his head. “What?”
“It’s where you fall for your captor, right? Only I’ve been with you for just—what, a few hours? I don’t think it’s supposed to happen this fast.”
“What in the hell are you talking about?”
“I find you really sexy.” A stark, unsettling truth. “And maybe it’s the adrenaline. Maybe it’s the fear. Or maybe it’s some weird Stockholm thing.”
He growled.
She even found that rumbly sound to be sexy. “Why did you kiss me in the street?”
His stare went to her mouth. It seemed to do that, a lot.
“You could have just knocked me out with your drugs. Done that without the kiss.” The kiss that was burned in her mind. “Why did you do it?”
“Because I wanted to know how you’d taste.”
“And how did I taste?” Why was she asking these questions? She shook her head. “No, stop. I just—forget I said anything about that. Forget the kiss.”
“Hard to do.” He kept right on caging her. “Especially since you’re about to share my bed.”
Luna felt her eyes double in size. “ What?”
“You and me, sweetheart. We’re sharing a bed.”