Rev It Up (12 page)

“What else?” Boss asked, ignoring the chatter of Becky’s fingers on the keyboard.

Rock sighed and ran a hand over his goatee. She noticed it tremor ever so slightly.

God, and now, like an idiot, she was even more tempted to go all Disney on him. She obviously had a weakness for the whole wounded warrior thing.

“Accordin’ to ol’ Larry,” Rock continued, “all communications between him and Vitiglioni were done through a series of private post office boxes, and Johnny supposedly used an alias. He hadn’t the first clue where to find Johnny. Apparently,” he grimaced, shaking his head, “and you’re gonna love this, but apparently Larry answered one of those crazy cryptic ads in
Soldier
of
Fortune
magazine.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Boss growled. “So now every lowlife, wannabe hit man from here to Timbuktu is going to be gunning for us? Is that what you’re saying?”

Rock nodded. “Larry
also
informed me there’s a 50k price tag on each and every one of our heads.”

Bill whistled, and Becky let loose a string of curses to do Boss proud.

Oh boy,
Vanessa thought as she reached for the bottle of beer sitting in front of Becky. “May I?”

“Help yourself.” Becky nodded distractedly.

She tipped her head back and gulped down the frothy brew, trying to wash away the bile that’d steadily gathered in the back of her throat for the last half hour.

So, to recap her life in the past few months…

First, she joins a clandestine defense firm. Then, she develops a rather tragic case of
do-me-big-boy
for one of her coworkers. And finally, she finds herself slam-bam in the middle of an unknown number of crosshairs.

Are we having fun now?

Um, hell no. The answer to that question was a resounding
hell
no
.

Although, there was some comfort in knowing the other Knights were in those same crosshairs with her, because if anyone could come out of this situation unscathed, it was the hardcore warriors of BKI.

“Do you know how Larry was supposed to contact Johnny for payment once he made a kill?” Boss asked.

Rock reached into the pocket of his frayed Levi’s and pulled out a piece of paper. “Supposedly, this address is a meeting place. If Larry had proof of a kill, he would hook-up with Johnny there at nineteen hundred on Friday to collect his reward. If he didn’t show up Friday, then he was to meet Johnny on Tuesday at the same time. I guess after that Johnny figured we’d all be dead because Larry-Larry-Bo-Berry didn’t have any more dates.”

“Hand it over,” Becky motioned with two fingers, and Rock passed her the yellow sticky note. “Hey, this is local,” she exclaimed excitedly.

“
Oui
.” Rock nodded.

“So that means Johnny’s here in Chicago?” Becky lifted a brow.

“
Mais
oui.
Or at least he will be this Friday and next Tuesday.”

Vanessa’s temples started pounding in rhythm to her heart at the news. She’d never had a price on her head before, and knowing the guy who’d made a mark of her was going to be so close? Well, it took was what an untenable situation and shot it straight into the atmosphere of planet Oh
Hell
No.

She was sensing a theme here…

“I think we should station guys at the drop point
now
,” Bill said, running a hand through his thick brown hair, “so we can watch the comings and goings and maybe do some nosing around. See if anyone in the area has seen him. The sooner we catch him and put an end to this, the better.”

“Agreed,” Boss said. “But let’s think about the logistics here. Everyone is pulling four-on/four-off rotations keeping eyes on the perimeter. And since Ghost decided
this
would be the perfect opportunity to take his new wifey on an ill-timed honeymoon, that only leaves—
Ow!
Why are you smacking me, woman?”

Becky’s palm was still connected to the meaty part of Boss’s big shoulder when she said, her voice tight with indignation, “First, Ghost took off with Ali because he figured it was the only way to keep her safe from Johnny’s vengeance. You know that as well as I do. And second, it’s a
honeymoon
. It’s never ill-timed.” She pointed a finger at his nose. “You remember that.”

A muscle in Boss’s jaw twitched, and just when Vanessa thought he might put Becky in her place, his scarred face split wide in a blinding grin. He grabbed Becky’s hand and kissed the tip of her still-pointing finger.

“Message received.” His voice was infused with a hot emotion that certainly wasn’t anger.

The two exchanged a look so pointed Vanessa’s own cheeks began to heat just as Bill piped up with, “God. I’m more than happy to be pulling surveillance duty in the condo across the river if it means I don’t have to watch you two constantly making googly eyes at each other. I think I might puke.”

It was true. There was a lot of sexual tension in the air tonight. What with Boss and Becky barely able to keep their hands off one another, and
her
inability to stop staring at Rock and drooling.

Oh yeah, and then there were Snake and Michelle…

The chemistry simmering between those two was enough to make a smart girl reach for a hazmat suit because,
wow
, an explosion of epic proportions was imminent.

“I think you’ll survive,” Boss grumbled, reluctantly dropping Becky’s hand and turning back to the group. “But that brings me back to my point, which is that since Becky has to stay here and coordinate movements and communication between all parties, there’s only me and Rock left to recon and surveil the drop point.”

“Not to throw a fly in the ointment, Boss,” Rock interjected. “But you’re not exactly inconspicuous on a good day. With that bright blue cast, you stand out like a back pocket on a shirt.”

“Shit!” Boss cursed, glaring at the offending cast like it was a demon sprung from hell.

“I’ll go,” Vanessa blurted before she could think better of it.

Brilliant, Van. Simply brilliant.

“Have you ever done surveillance before?” Boss asked, eyeing her curiously.

“Of course.” What the hell was she doing? He’d given her the perfect out.

“Okay then,” Boss slapped his big palm down on the table, the equivalent of a judge’s gavel, effectively alerting everyone the decision had been made. “You and Rock go get eyes on the drop point and see if you can’t locate Johnny.”

Her heart started hammering against her ribs as Rock sent her a considering look out from under the dense shadow created by his lashes.

Oh man, this is a mistake…

But she didn’t have too much time to contemplate the ramifications because Boss continued, “You know what having Johnny out hiring any Joe-Shmoe with an empty wallet and full clip means, don’t you?”

“
Oui
,” Rock dipped his chin. “It means the only way to get these flies off our shit is to kill or otherwise vamoose dear Johnny.”

“Exactly,” Boss said, wincing and threading one big finger under his cast to scratch an itch. “We get rid of Johnny, and we take away the money. We take away the money, and we take away the threat.”

“And once we do that, how will we disseminate the information so Johnny’s
Soldier
of
Fortune
-reading goons call off the hunt?” Angel asked.

Vanessa looked over to see Bill grinning broadly. “Hey, Becky?” he sing-songed, his tone teasing. Becky gave him a wary glance. “How do you feel about another press conference? The media has loved you ever since you were a pirate’s hostage.”

“Ugh,” Becky groaned. “I thought I was finished with reporters after that whole debacle.”

One thing Vanessa could say about working for BKI: it was never boring. Case in point: Becky Reichert had been captured by pirates. Yes, that’s right. Pirates. As in
arg
.

If she wasn’t mistaken, there was even an eye-patch involved…

“All right, then,” Boss pushed away from the conference table and turned to Becky. The look of mortal dread on her face caused him to shake his head and pat her shoulder conciliatorily. “You’ll be great, just like you were before. For now, I’ll call our friends at the CPD so we can turn Mr. Marrow over into their loving hands. And Bill, you and Angel get back in position. We need to be ready for the next strike.”

The next strike…

Like it was a foregone conclusion there’d be one.

Oh, God.

Jake’s broad palms were warm against Michelle’s upper arms, his thighs hard against her own as he curled himself around her and her softly snoring son, kissing her with all the skill and dedication she remembered from four years ago.

Sweet
Lord! Help me!

Because right now she was incapable of helping herself.

He tasted the same and smelled the same and, worse,
felt
the same. All corded muscle and smooth skin, prickly whiskers making her lips tingle.

In a word: male.

All the things a man should be.

Making her feel all the things a woman should feel when she was held in strong arms. Cherished, desired, protected…

Oh, how she wanted to go on letting him kiss her to within an inch of her life, kiss her until all thoughts of consequences flew right out of her head. But she’d been on this ride with him before, had witnessed her own father play on this same terrible roller coaster of physical thrill-seeking, and she knew, like always, her heart would be the one to pay the piper in the end.

No matter how much it might feel otherwise right now, she knew the excitement and pleasure of the moment wasn’t worth the pain of the crash.

The effort it took to step from his embrace was excruciating, but she managed it. Though it felt like she was leaving her heart behind. And then he went and made everything so much worse when he blurted, “I love you, Shell.”

“Wh-what?” she sputtered.

“I love you,” he said again. Just like that. So easy. So carefree with those words.

When he took a step toward her, she mirrored his movement, retreating, nearly tripping over the dang cat that was rubbing itself against her calves. He reached out to steady her, and she jerked aside. His fingers were a brand, burning her on the outside as his words scorched through her insides.

“I loved you then, I love you now, and I’ve loved you all the days in between,” he went on, even as his expression fell when she scrambled to avoid his touch.

He tucked his hands into the front pockets of his tattered jeans, and she closed her eyes as her heart, the one she’d sworn she’d hardened against him, shattered anew, along the same fault lines he’d made so long ago…

It wasn’t true. He might think it was because they’d never gotten the chance to finish what they’d started and he’d confused unrequited lust with love, but it
wasn’t
true. He didn’t love her. Men like him didn’t know the meaning of the word, yet they were oh so quick to whip it out when it suited them.

Hugging her son to her chest, she fought the urge to burst into tears, just dissolve into a puddle. This was why she hadn’t wanted to see him, why the mysterious “they” were obvious imbeciles. This moment right now. Because she wasn’t strong enough to resist him. She never had been.

But
you
have
to
be, Michelle. For Franklin’s sake…

“No, Jake,” she whispered, squeezing her eyes shut as she tried to breathe past the iron vice of anguish crushing her chest, “you don’t—”

“Tell me there’s a chance,” he begged. She opened her eyes to search his face, her throat burning like the glowing embers of the fire at his back. “Tell me you still feel something for me.”

She swallowed and managed to choke, “You had your chance. You had
many
chances, but you blew them all. Now, it’s too late.”
Too, too late…

“No,” he shook his head. “I refuse to believe it.”

“It’s true.” She beat back the ocean of tears gathering in her eyes and firmed her resolve, though everything inside her screamed at her to go into his arms, to believe him even though she’d heard all these same lies before. And then she told a lie of her own, “I don’t love you anymore.”