Good Intentions - Adrian Hell #6 (Adrian Hell Series) (33 page)

“Thank you. But I’ll be okay. How are you doing?”

“I’m alright. Tired, but I’ll be fine. I think I’m gonna take off after Dubai. I don’t know what’s gonna happen, but if I get the chance to start over again, I’m going to find a little corner of the world somewhere and hide in it.”

“That sounds… lonely.”

I shrug. “It’s for the best. I have a habit of endangering the lives of people I care for. You can attest to that. It’s a consequence of the life I’ve led, and I can’t change that. Best thing for me to do is stay out of people’s way.”

“So, are you saying you care for me?”

I scratch absently at the back of my head. I suddenly feel a little awkward. “Well, I mean, we’ve been through a lot together. I don’t want to see you hurt, obviously. And you’ve lost so much because of me. I just…”

She takes a deep breath and steps closer to me. She looks up at me. She has blue eyes… I’ve never noticed that before. “Adrian, my job requires me to stay detached from my clients, and not become personally involved. But that went out the window, literally, when my office was destroyed by… an RGP? Is that right?”

I smile. “RPG. It stands for rocket-propelled grenade.”

“Ah, right. Well, one of those. From that moment on, my life was in your hands. And I was scared. I was angry that you had come into my life and turned it on its head. Then I realized it wasn’t your fault. Not directly. It was… fate, I suppose. You needed me, and when I found myself exposed to this… this whole other world that you live in, I quickly realized I needed you, too. I’ve been watching you. How you deal with things. How you think about things. Having already had some insight into your mind, watching you face the things we’ve faced—head on, without question or hesitation—our sessions made a lot more sense to me. I saw you, the real you, for the first time. I know you’ve done some terrible things. And I’m sure you’ve done much more that I don’t know about, but… deep down, Adrian, when you strip away this exterior, this uniform of an assassin that you wear… you’re a hero. You’re… my hero.”

She steps in closer, so her body’s resting against mine. She steps up on her tiptoes and kisses me softly, tentatively, on the lips. I can smell her natural scent, mixed in with the fruity essence of her shower lotion. I don’t kiss her back. I remain upright and tense, scared out of my mind.

She moves away again and looks at me. Her mouth is slightly open, and she’s breathing a little heavier.

Me too, actually.

“Look, Kaitlyn, I… Everything you said, it means a lot to me, honestly. But I can’t open up to you if I’m involved with you. I know I won’t be able to, because I won’t want to expose you to that side of me.”

She shrugs. “You said yourself you’re leaving after you deal with The Order. It’s unlikely we’ll have another session.”

Huh… fair point.

She turns and paces idly toward her bedroom door. “I don’t know what it is. Maybe it’s the adrenaline… maybe I’m not thinking straight, trying to deal with trauma I don’t understand… I just know that…” She turns back around and stares at me. I see a fire in her eyes that I haven’t seen all that often in anyone. “…I want you.”

She moves her hands and allows her towel to drop to the floor, revealing her still-wet body.

Holy crap!

Her work clothes really didn’t do her any justice. She has a pretty well-defined frame. Her stomach is flat and toned. Her breasts are modest and firm. Her hips are narrow and her legs are long and shapely.

Goddamn… What do I do now? I mean, I—

She walks back over to me, puts both hands on the bottom of my T-shirt and starts to pull it up over my head.

I don’t think there’s anything I can do to change what’s about to happen.

I lift my arms, and she peels it up and over my head, discarding it on the floor. She takes my hand and leads me into the bedroom. She doesn’t turn on the light, so I’ve no idea what the room looks like. We stand by the edge of the bed and she turns to face me again. She snakes both hands around my neck, pulling my head down and kissing me with much more passion and ferocity than before.

All doubts and fears quickly leave me. I wrap my left arm around her waist, and she jumps up, wrapping her legs around me. I hold her in front of me as we lose ourselves in the moment. As we put all the shit we’ve been through in the last two days behind us. We forget the world… forget everything. Right now, it’s just her and me.

I walk around the bed and lay her gently down on it.

I’m suddenly not feeling all that tired…

27

June 5
^th
, 2017

08:06
AST

I feel consciousness washing lazily over me. The bright morning sun shines in through the vertical blinds and hits my face. I roll onto my back and let out a long, slow breath, allowing myself to embrace just how relaxed I feel right now.

What a night. I feel like I’ve slept for days.

Kaitlyn and I… we, ah… we… had a nice evening together. I barely felt all the cuts on my back as she…

Y’know what? Never mind.

I look to my left.

I’m alone.

She must be awake already, making coffee, or breakfast, or something. That would be nice. I smile to myself for a moment, but it soon fades. I get flashbacks of Devil’s Spring… of Tori making me coffee and breakfast… of me lying in bed, happy…

I put my hand on my face and rub my eyes.

Leave it, Adrian. Don’t ruin something great by thinking too much.

I swing my legs out of bed and step into my shorts. I stand tall and stretch. Man, even my usual aches and pains aren’t bothering me today. Maybe I should get…

I smile to myself and look down at my tattoo.

WWJD.

What would Josh do?

Josh would say there’s no maybes about it—I should
definitely
get laid more often!

I pad out of the room and into the kitchen. She’s not here. There’s no sign of any coffee or breakfast, either. I frown and walk into the lounge. She’s not here, either.

“Kaitlyn, are you alright?”

I can feel myself starting to worry. My mind instantly defaulting to the paranoia I’ve been trained to live with. But I stop myself, take a deep breath… and another… and relax. That’s something Kaitlyn taught me. A technique for dealing with the onset of my spider sense. Or what she initially referred to as an anxiety attack, although that was before she knew the real me. But, even so, the technique helps. Just stopping for a few seconds and taking a breath helps you calm down and see what’s really happening, not what your anxious mind is telling you.

I take another breath…

She’s probably just gone out to get some breakfast, that’s all. Bottom line is she’s safe now. I need to stop thinking she’s not, just because I’m here. Neither of us is on The Order’s radar anymore. I have time to figure out how to deal with them.

I wander into the bathroom and stare into the mirror. I run my hand up and down my throat, assessing how desperately I need a shave. Yeah, it’ll be fine for another day. Maybe two.

I lean over the basin and splash some cold water on my face to help wake me up. I pause for a moment, staring absently at nothing in particular as the water drips off me.

Wait.

Something’s caught my eye. I must have registered it subconsciously at first, because I wasn’t immediately aware of it, but it must be important, because it’s been fast-tracked to my conscious brain.

Kaitlyn would be so proud of me.

There’s a small bruise on my right arm, in the crook near the elbow. It’s no larger than a dime, with a tiny red dot in the middle.

I frown and examine it more closely.

Yeah… that’s a puncture wound. I’ve been injected with something. Recently.

All the deep breaths in the world aren’t going to stop my spider sense now.

“Kaitlyn?”

I’ve missed something. I don’t know what’s happened, but I know she’s not out getting breakfast. I’ve had a needle stuck in my arm at some point between me and Kaitlyn… y’know… and me waking up just now. Which means…

“Oh, fuck!”

I dash back into the bedroom and look around. I don’t see anything.

Goddammit! Come on, Adrian…

I close my eyes, take one deep breath, and subdue the mixture of panic and anger that I’m feeling right now. I open my eyes again. This time, I look around the room properly, calmly, like I’ve been trained to.

Her underwear drawer, just inside the door on the right, is slightly open. It wasn’t last night. I open the closet next to it. A hanger falls out as I do. It mustn’t have been put on the rail properly. That means she got dressed quickly, like maybe she was in a hurry.

I look at the bed. The cover is messed up on her side, hanging off one edge more than the other. It doesn’t look natural, like when it’s moved around during the throes of passion or sleep. It’s more like she was dragged out of bed by her feet, and she was holding on to the duvet in an effort to resist.

Sonofabitch. They’ve taken her.

I throw my T-shirt on and step into my shoes. No sign of my gun. I definitely left it on the bedside table last night. I screw my face up with frustration.

Shit.

I quickly walk out into the small reception area and look at the front door. The chain is still in the latch, but it’s been cut, presumably through the narrow gap between the door and the frame. I move over to inspect it. The edges are smooth. It’s a pretty thick metal chain, so maybe some kind of laser cutting tool was used… That’s some high-end tech.

Double shit.

I hear a beep in my pocket.

Huh?

I take out my cell phone. There’s a message from Horizon. I open it.

It doesn’t have to be like this, Adrian. We should meet to discuss your future. I’m in my suite when you’re ready to talk. No rush…

Triple shit!

Goddamn… fucking… sonofa… asshole… bastard!

I don’t hesitate. Hell, I don’t even
think
. I yank open the door and run out, down the hall and down the stairs. At the bottom, I head straight for the entrance, but skid to a halt as I reach the door.

I’ve just had a thought. A really unpleasant thought.

If they found me and Kaitlyn here, maybe they…

I glance over my shoulder, down the hall to where Yaz disappeared last night.

Oh, please don’t tell me…!

I spin around and run along the hall. I turn right at the end. There are two apartments down here. I’m assuming Yaz lives in the one on the right, because the door’s standing open, and there’s a pool of blood slowly expanding out into the hall.

“No… no… no…”

I step toward the doorway cautiously. I press myself against the wall and peer inside.

“Oh, fuck me…”

There’s a woman lying in the middle of the floor, face down, surrounded by blood. I’m guessing that’s Yaz’s mom.

I move in, careful not to step in anything and leave a print. “Yaz? It’s Adrian. Are you in here?”

Nothing.

Don’t tell me they’ve taken him, too.

Bastards.

I sprint back down the hall, out the main entrance, and onto the street. The Suburban’s still parked out front, seemingly untouched. I look inside. The key’s in the ignition. I check the trunk.

Empty.

All the weapons are gone.

I slam my hand on the roof.

“Fuck!”

That’s it.

I climb in and start the engine. Thankfully, it’s an automatic. It’ll be hard enough as it is driving with one hand all the way to Dubai, without having to try working a stick, too.

I step on the gas, spin it around, and speed away, leaving tire marks on the road behind me.

I have no idea what I’m going to do when I get there, but one thing I know for sure… this ends today.

10:10
AST

I’m doing sixty along the stretch of road that takes you out over the water and onto the island home of the Burj Al Arab Hotel. I circle around the huge water feature and slam on the brakes, screeching to a halt outside the entrance. I grip the wheel tightly in my hand. I’ve worked myself up into such a fury on the ride here, I can barely see straight now I’ve arrived.

I do a quick mental assessment. My back’s fine. Kaitlyn removed all the Band-Aids last night, and despite the sheer number of lacerations I sustained, they were mostly superficial and have already begun to heal.

I glance down at my right hand. After the amazing job Kaitlyn did changing the bandages and tightening the cast last night, my hand is as protected as it’s ever going to be. It’s still mostly useless—I have no grip and no strength—but I guess I can use the cast as a weapon if I need to. It’ll probably hurt like hell, but without a gun, I’ll take what I can get.

I pull the sun visor down and slide back the cover on the mirror. The little light flicks on automatically and I examine my head wound. Again, Kaitlyn did a good job of taping me up, and a lot of the bleeding has stopped now. But that doesn’t take away from how bad the cut was to begin with, and without stitches, the slightest knock is going to open it up again, which I could really do without.

So, I’m far from a hundred percent, but I could be worse, I guess. I’m not armed, but I’m really pissed off, and with one good hand and two good legs, I’m three times the fighter most men are—armed or otherwise.

Don’t forget you’ve got me, you crazy bastard!

Oh yeah… and my Inner Satan is going to be putting in a shift today, I can promise you that.

I step out of the car and look up to the heavens, squinting against the glare of the scorching sun as I stare at the helipad jutting out from the roof of the hotel. Damn… that’s a whole lot of real estate standing between me and Horizon.

I grind my teeth, clenching my jaw muscles as I feel the rage building inside me. Violence seething through my veins. I don’t care how many floors there are… how many men… how many guns… I’ll burn this whole fucking place to the ground if I have to. I’m going to—

“Adrian Hell?”