Fiancee for Hire (16 page)

Chapter Sixteen

Running wasn’t an option. That much Kelli knew. With a full foot of height on her and a helluva lot more muscle, Hank would catch her in three seconds.

A bullet would be even faster.

“Get in there,” Hank snarled, pushing her toward a door. “Move it!”

She knew she shouldn’t go with him, but what choice did she have? She glanced at the gun and shivered. He shoved her again, and she stumbled forward, fumbling with the doorknob. It turned easily, and Kelli pried it open, wondering what the hell she was walking into.

“Can’t we talk about this?” she asked. “Whatever you want, I’m sure Mac will—”

“Mac isn’t running the show anymore,” Hank snapped, pushing her through the doorway. “I am.”

Dread knotted her stomach as she moved into the darkened space with Hank on her heels. The room was pitch-black and darker still as he jerked the door closed behind them. He flipped a light switch, bathing the room in a swath of dirty yellow light.

She turned and looked at Hank’s menacing face and tried not to shudder. “He trusted you, you know,” she said. “Mac did. That’s not easy for him.”

“I don’t give a fuck what’s easy for him,” he barked.

“The carjacking,” Kelli said, realization dawning. “You were behind that somehow, weren’t you?”

“It would have gone down much easier that way.”

“What would have?”

“My plan!” he snapped, raising a hand.

She must’ve flinched because Hank gave a nasty little laugh and dropped his hand. Kelli didn’t relax. “Chill, babe. I’m not planning to rape you or beat the shit out of you or anything.” He hesitated, then gave a leering shrug. “Well, assuming you do what I say.”

“Which is what, exactly?”

“You’re going to help me turn this fucking arms deal around. Mac’s planning to hand the weapons over to the U.S. military but there’s a lot more money to be had selling them elsewhere.”

“To terrorists, you mean?”

He rolled his eyes and thrust the gun skyward. “No, to hairdressers. Jesus. Terrorists. You watch too much television. I’m talking about a highly trained rebel group fighting valiantly by whatever means necessary to seize control of their government.”

“And that’s different from terrorists how?”

Kelli knew she shouldn’t bait him, but she was trying to buy herself some time. She studied the gun, which was no longer pointed at her, but dangling loosely from one hand as Hank glanced away to adjust the lights. If she could just keep him talking—

“I’m done talking,” he snapped. “Now here’s how you’re going to help me.”

Now or never
.

She lunged at him, the syringe she’d stashed her pocket clutched in her fingers. She flicked the cap off with her thumbnail, baring the sharpened point of the needle. She aimed for his biceps, stabbing with all her strength to sink the point into Hank’s bare muscle.

“What the fucking fuck—”

He grabbed her by the hair with his free hand, jerking her head back. Kelli yelped and jammed the plunger down, flooding the Telazol into his muscle. Hank yelled and drew his gun back, slamming the butt of it into her cheek.

She cried out, falling to her knees. He raised the gun, sneering, and aimed at her head.

She looked up to see the syringe still stuck in his biceps. She could smell his sweat and the scent of her own terror mixed with the dust in the warehouse. He had a crazed look in his eye as he drew his foot back and kicked her hard in the ribs. Kelli screamed and curled into a ball, hoping he’d kill her fast.

Hoping against hope the drug would kick in faster.

“Fucking bitch!” he snarled as he jerked the syringe out of his arm and threw it at her. She ducked, avoiding the needle, but grimacing from the pain in her ribs and the throbbing her cheekbone. She wasn’t bleeding anywhere, though she guessed Hank planned to remedy that.

He stomped his boot on the syringe, crushing it into a million tiny bits. Then he raised the gun again and sneered. “Stupid bitch! What the hell were you think—”

That was all he got out before his eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed to the ground. He landed with a
thud
, dust clouds billowing around him. Kelli scooted back, barely escaping being crushed under his weight. He flopped onto the concrete in a big, traitorous heap, and began to drool.

Kelli skittered away. She hesitated, catching her breath, then got to her feet. Her legs were shaky, but she towered over him.

“I was thinking,” she snarled, “That Telazol is an excellent tranquilizer for mean dogs and mean men.” She barely recognized the primal sound of her own voice as she reached into her medical bag for a length of surgical tubing. “And I’m thinking Mac is not going to be thrilled when he finds out what you’ve done.”

She knelt beside him and worked quickly to bind his hands behind his back, hoping like hell the drug kept him out long enough for her to get away. She cinched and knotted and tied as fast as she could with her hands shaking like she was in the throes of a seizure.

When she was done, she sat back on her heels. Her phone was in the car. She just needed to get to it and call Mac and everything would be okay.

She fished in Hank’s pocket for the car keys, shuddering as she rolled his limp form from one side to the other. She found the keys and stood up, moving away from him on shaky legs. Clutching her medical kit, she sprinted for the exit.

She’d almost made it when the door burst open.

The sudden rush of daylight blinded her, sending her staggering backward. A man stepped into the opening, a woman right on his heels.

Kelli skidded to a stop, her heart lodging in hear throat. “No.”

“I’ll take that,” Griz said, reaching out to yank the medical bag from her hand. Kelli tried to keep her hold on it, but Zapata raised a vicious-looking assault rifle and aimed at her chest.

Kelli let go of the bag, stepping back.

“I see you’ve taken care of Hank for us,” Zapata said, nodding over her shoulder. “Nicely done. Saves us the trouble of double-crossing the double-crosser to do our own double-crossing.”

Kelli took another step back, stumbling over her own feet, too stunned to recall how to maneuver them. “I have no idea what you just said, but please—let me go.”

Griz laughed and tossed Kelli’s medical bag across the room. It landed with a
clang
, and Kelli fought the urge to lunge at the woman, clawing and screaming. Griz reached into her purse and pulled out Kelli’s phone.

“I grabbed this from the car for you,” she said. “You’re going to make a phone call now. You’re going to summon your fiancé so we can make a few changes to the terms of our business deal.”

“I don’t—why now?” Kelli gasped, her head still spinning from Hank’s blows. “Why not just ambush us when we both show up to dinner tonight?”

Griz sneered. “Because we’ve seen the way Mac looks at you. How protective he is, how he’ll do anything for you—anything.” She laughed, a brittle sound that made Kelli’s skin prickle. “We need to ensure he complies. You are our ticket to that.”

“You’re more useful to us alive than dead,” Zapata said.

Griz gripped the phone in her hand and held it aloft, glaring at Kelli. “Try anything funny, we’ll blow your brains out in two seconds. Then we’ll go after all your friends, family members, and Mac.”

Zapata nodded and lifted the gun. “Do what we say and summon Mac without incident, and we’ll let everyone go.”

“Everyone?”

Griz took a step forward. “Everyone but Mac.”

Kelli shook her head, still dazed from Hank’s kick to the ribs and the drama of the last ten minutes. “You want me to lure my fiancé to his own death?”

Griz shrugged. “It’s either that or we systematically kill everyone you love, ending, of course, with you.”

“And only after we’ve made you watch us torture your fiancé,” Zapata added, almost cheerfully.

Kelli wiped her hand over her face, feeling a trickle of blood at the corner of her mouth. She looked from Griz to Zapata and back again. “You’re crazy.”

Griz just laughed, a sick, curdled sound that made Kelli’s stomach clench in a tight ball. “Do exactly as we tell you to do and we won’t have to torture you as well,” she snarled, thrusting the phone at Kelli’s face. “Now here’s how we want you to play it.”

…

Mac was just wrapping up a meeting when his phone buzzed. He glanced at the readout on the screen and felt his gut twist with pleasure.

Kelli
.

“That’s all for now, boys,” he said, dismissing the assembled men as he stood and sidled toward the exit. One by one, the soldiers filed past him, saluting even though he hadn’t been a military officer for ages. One result of this undercover bullshit meant no one knew exactly how to address him.

Mac stepped into the hall and slid his finger over the screen. His phone flickered to life.

“Kelli,” he said as one of the men strode past and made googly eyes at him. Mac turned away, ignoring him. “Everything okay?”

“Everything’s great, Mac,” she chirped, perky as ever. “I could use your help though.”

“Help?” he asked, alarm bells ringing in his head. Her tone was breezy, but something seemed off.

“Not help like that—nothing’s wrong, except that I need a hand with some wedding stuff.”

“Wedding stuff?”

“Right. See, I’m meeting with that guy about the wedding venue we wanted—the one on the edge of the cliff?—and he’s refusing to let me sign for it without my groom present.”

Mac frowned, trying to get a handle on what she was saying.

What the hell?

“Kelli?”

“There’s another couple here ready to put down a deposit on the date we want, and if you don’t hurry, they’re going to get it.” Her words were hurried and panicky, which may have had something to do with the wedding venue, if the wedding were real, but—

“You know how much it means to my mother to see us get married there,” Kelli said, her tone so cheery Mac’s teeth hurt. “It’s sentimental for all of us.”

Mother?

“I understand,” Mac said, not sure he did.

But one thing was for certain: Kelli was in trouble. Someone must be listening to their conversation. It was the only reason he could fathom for the way she was talking in code, feeding him clues he couldn’t quite piece together.

“The caterer here said he can make that Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup cake you wanted,” she said, clearing her throat. “I went ahead and ordered that already, since I know how much you and Jillian will enjoy it.”

Jesus
.

“Okay, so you need me to meet you somewhere?”

“Right,” she breathed. “That place on the cliff. The one we talked about with Anna?”

“I know it. You’re there now?”

“I am. This place is just amazing, honey. I can’t wait for you to see it. And Mac?”

“Yes?”

There was a pause—probably only three seconds—but long enough for Mac to come up with at least a dozen scenarios for how this could end very, very badly.

“I love you,” she said. “I really, really love you.”

Mac’s flesh went cold.

I’ll fall in love over my dead body
.

“I’ll be right there.”

Chapter Seventeen

As soon as Kelli hung up the phone, Griz snatched it away from her.

“Nicely done,” she snapped, turning to her husband. “You’ve got it covered from here?”

“Of course. I’ll meet our friend MacArthur and explain the new financial terms of the deal. If he’s not willing to double his offer, we’ll apply the necessary leverage.”

They both looked at Kelli. She shivered, knowing damn well she was the leverage.

Fuck
.

Had she done the wrong thing?

Had there been any choice?

If she hadn’t made the call, they would have killed her. At least his way, she had some hope Mac had gotten her message. That somehow, he could still get them both out of this. All she could do now was put her trust in him.

Easier said than done.

She swallowed and looked at Griz. “So I’m staying here?”

“We’re staying here,” Griz corrected, looking at her husband before turning back to Kelli. “You and me and the four armed guards positioned outside the building. In case you get any ideas about running away, they’ve been instructed to blow your pretty little head off.”

Kelli balled her hands into fists. “All this for the person who fixed your lizard’s dick?”

Zapata glanced at his watch, ignoring her. He turned to his wife and spoke low in Spanish. “I’m going now. You know what to do if I call.”

“I have it under control,” Griz said.

Zapata planted a disgusting wet kiss on his wife’s lips, and Kelli tried not to shudder. She wondered if she’d ever get a chance to kiss Mac again, and the thought made her eyes prick with tears.

She blinked them back.
Don’t let them see you cry. You have to stay strong
.

The voice in her head wasn’t her own. It was Mac’s.

She swallowed hard and forced herself to look at Griz as Zapata shut the door behind him.

Griz tossed her hair and glared at Kelli. “I suppose you think you’re pretty hot shit.”

“You’re holding me at gunpoint. I wouldn’t say this is one of my highest moments of self-esteem.”

Griz snorted in disgust. “Mac never got serious about anyone he dated. Not even me. What the hell is so special about you?”

“He likes my knitting?”

The punch was so swift, Kelli never saw it coming. She doubled over, trying not to gag. “For fuck’s sake,” she grunted. “I can’t even knit.”

“You think you’re so funny,” Griz said. “So cute and clever and all he’s ever wanted.”

“Or maybe he’s not a fan of crazy bitches with guns,” Kelli tried, straightening up and bracing herself for another blow. “Just a theory.”

She expected a punch to the face this time, but Griz just glared at her and stalked away. Kelli fell silent as Griz paced, her agitation evident in the way she raked her fingers through her hair and muttered Spanish curses Kelli was grateful not to understand.

When Griz turned back to face her, there was ice in her eyes. “You know he’ll be dead one way or the other by the end of the day,” she snarled. “So will you. We needed you to lure Mac where we want him, but there’s no reason to keep either of you alive once the job is done.”

Kelli swallowed hard. She’d figured as much, but hearing Griz say it aloud made the reality sink in. “Guess you’ll have to find someone else to fix your lizard’s dick next time.”

Griz sneered. “That’s hardly my concern. I can’t stand the stupid animal anyway.”

If Kelli hadn’t already wanted to punch her, she would have really had the urge now. It wasn’t going to happen—not with Griz still holding the pistol and waving it around like some kind of psycho. If only there were some way for Kelli to get her hands on it—

A sharp
crack
outside snapped Kelli’s attention to the door. A second
crack
sounded, and Kelli held her breath, waiting for more. She wasn’t terribly familiar with the sound of gunfire, but that’s what it sounded like to her untrained ears.

“There sure seem to be a lot of cars backfiring around here,” she said, trying to keep her voice from shaking. “Sounds like a catalytic converter. Or maybe a faulty fuel pump or—”

“Shut up.” Griz’s face creased into a frown. She edged closer to Kelli, pistol raised. “They’re probably just shooting at stray dogs. Just in case though, it’s a good thing I’ve got a hostage.”

“Good thing,” Kelli repeated, not thinking it was a very good thing at all.

They stood like that for several heartbeats—one? two? a dozen?—their eyes fixed on the door, Griz’s fingers locked on Kelli’s arm.

The door burst open, and Mac charged through it with four men in fatigues on his heels. But it was Mac who held Kelli’s attention, Mac whose eyes locked on hers as he marched forward with menace in his eyes and a wicked-looking gun in his hand.

“Let her go, Griz,” he commanded.

Griz gripped Kelli’s arm tighter and raised the pistol to Kelli’s temple. “Not a chance.”

Mac’s gun was pointed straight at Griz’s head, while Griz aimed hers at Kelli’s. Neither position seemed the point to a peaceful resolution.

“I’ll shoot her,” Griz said. “You know I will.”

“And I’ll shoot you, then your backstabbing husband. How does that serve you?”

“So how about this,” Griz said, digging her nails into Kelli’s arm. “Back off, and I might let her live. That’s what you want, right?”

“There are a lot of things I want,” Mac said coolly, his eyes shifting to Kelli’s. He held her gaze for a moment, his eyes oddly suggestive. “Including my fiancée down on her knees.”

“What?” Griz sputtered. “At a time like this, you’re thinking of—”

Kelli dropped to her knees, jerking her arm from Griz’s grasp as she slid down and out of the way. The gunshot was loud—louder than she expected—and Kelli cried out and covered her head with her hands. She squeezed her eyes shut as footsteps pounded around her and the smell of gunpowder filled her nostrils. She felt the body crumple beside her but couldn’t bring herself to look.

What if she’d read Mac’s order wrong? What if he was the one hit? What if
—

“Kelli, look at me.”

She opened her eyes and pulled her hands from her face. Mac was crouched down beside her looking solid and alive as he pulled her into his arms. He wasn’t wearing sunglasses, and his brown eyes found hers, searching. She swallowed, locking her gaze with his as everything inside her ached with emotion.

“Is she—” Kelli couldn’t bring herself to say the words.

“Griz is dead,” Mac said flatly. “And you’re alive. Thank God. Are you okay?”

“I think so,” she said. Her voice sounded hoarse, and her whole body was shaking. “Hank got in a few good punches before I got him down, but I don’t think I’m badly hurt.”

Mac cursed and hugged her tighter, and she felt the trembling start to subside. “Why aren’t you on the cliff?” she asked. “How did you find me?”

“Your ring.”

“What?”

“It’s a tracking device. I had a feeling it might come in handy, but I didn’t realize how soon.”

She swallowed, realization dawning as she gazed down at the stone. She studied it, blinking back tears, then looked up at Mac. “You saved my life.”

“You saved your own life,” he said. “Unless Hank tied his own hands together with surgical tubing?”

Kelli looked over at Hank’s prone form. One of Mac’s men was taking his pulse, and Kelli shuddered at the sight of it. “He’ll wake up shortly.”

“He’ll wish he hadn’t.”

Kelli swallowed, her brain still stuck on the knowledge that Mac had rescued her. That he’d come through for her, that she could count on him to be there for her no matter what.

“You saved me,” she said again. “If it weren’t for you ordering me down on my knees—”

“If it weren’t for your crazy antimarriage vows and your phony declaration of love—”

“Mac,” she said, swallowing hard as realization dawned. She looked him straight in the eye, unblinking, unwilling to look away for even a moment. She licked her lips. “It wasn’t phony.”

His eyes went cold. “What?”

She took a deep breath.
Keep the story as close to the truth as possible
.

“It wasn’t phony,” she said, her eyes filling with tears. “I’ve been fighting it for a long time, trying to pretend it wasn’t happening—that I wasn’t developing real feelings for you and I could still walk away and I didn’t really love you—but I am and I can’t and I do.”

She was sobbing in earnest now, her heart a twisted mess of relief and joy and sorrow and love. Mostly love.

Mac just stared at her. Then he stood up, his expression completely unreadable. He took two steps back, and Kelli went cold all over.

“Brian and Carlo will take you to the hospital now,” he said, tucking his gun back into the holster and taking another step away. “We need to make sure you’re okay. After that, you’re free to go. I’ll have the money wired to your account first thing in the morning.”

Kelli blinked. He hadn’t thrown a single punch, but his words hit harder than any blow Hank had delivered. What the hell had she expected?

To love. Honor. Cherish.

Idiot
.

“Mac—”

“I have to go,” he said again, reaching behind him for the doorknob. “I have to—” He raked his fingers through his hair, making it stand up in unruly spikes that Kelli longed to smooth down with her palms, but she made no move to get up off the floor. “Zapata,” Mac choked out. “The cliff. Payback. I need to—
fuck
!”

He pulled his sunglasses out of his pocket and jerked them on. Then he turned and shoved his way out the door, leaving Kelli speechless on the floor.

“Fuck,” she repeated, staring at the door. “Two weeks ago, that was all I needed, too.”

…

After it was all over, Mac drove around the city for hours. He had no idea how long, but it was still light when he left Zapata’s house and now the night sky was pitch-black and pockmarked by a million blinking stars.

What the hell had he done?

He’d almost gotten her killed. Christ. The person who meant more to him than anyone else in the world had nearly lost her life because of him.

Again
.

How could he have been so stupid? How could he have let his guard down like that? It wouldn’t happen again. He’d make sure of that. He’d get her back on a plane tonight if he could, or tomorrow morning at the latest. He’d never see her again, that much was obvious, but at least she’d be safe from terrorists and arms dealers and double-crossing undercover agents.

And from me
.

It was after midnight when he got back to the house. He made his way up the walk praying to every deity he could imagine that his mother would be asleep. Praying Kelli wouldn’t be there to greet him. Praying he could be completely alone to kick himself over and over until he—

“Hello, Mac.”

Mac closed his eyes and shook his head. “God hates me.”

“Good to see you, too, big brother.”

Grant’s voice was cheerful as always, but there was an edge to it. It might have been Mac’s imagination. It also might have been the fact that he was lurking in the shadows, his back against the side of the house like he was lying in wait for prey.

That would be me
, Mac thought grimly.

“What are you doing here, Grant? And why the fuck are you standing outside in the dark?”

“Waiting for you. Gotta say, your reflexes are going to shit. I could have double-tapped you between the eyes the second you got out of the car if I were a criminal thug instead of your loving brother.”

“I’m not in the mood.”

Grant pushed away from the house stretching under the porch light, as he studied Mac with an unsettling intensity. “Want to tell me what happened?”

“Zapata double-crossed me,” he said. “Hank and Griz and—”

“I know all about that,” Grant said, waving a dismissive hand. “Carlo told me about it when he got back from the hospital. I meant what happened with Kelli.”

“Kelli?”

“Jesus, Mac.” Grant shook his head, looking disgusted. “Your fake fiancée? The woman who loves you for real and who you love back if only you pulled your head out of your ass for ten minutes?”

“Oh. That Kelli.”

Grant folded his arms over his chest. “You’re a dick.”

“Thank you. Can I please enter my own home now?”

“No.”

Mac stared at his brother, trying to remember the last time Grant had stood up to him. He was pretty sure his kid brother had still been in diapers and the incident had involved a dispute about a plastic army figure. It wasn’t that Grant was a pushover or a wimp. He just preferred to choose his battles.

Mac sighed and ran his hands through his hair. “Why is this your battle?” he asked tiredly.

“Because you’re being a dumbass. I saw how you looked at her and how she looked at you.”

“With terror?”

“Exactly!”

Mac shook his head. “And I should chase after that because?”

“Because she’s scared to death of commitment, but there’s something else that scares her more.”

“My insane family?”

Grant ignored him. “The fear that you’ll leave her. Congratulations, that’s what you just did.”

Mac sighed. “Why are you busting my chops on this?”

“Because you’re afraid, too.”

“I just tracked down a notorious arms dealer and shoved him over a cliff to his own death. What the hell would I be afraid of?”

Grant’s eyes widened a fraction of an inch. “You got Zapata?”

Mac nodded, too tired to speak.

“Good. That’s half your fear, anyway.”

“What is?”

“The fear of not being able to protect the people you love. You saved Kelli. From the bad guys, anyway. Just not from yourself.”

“Since when did you become Sigmund Fucking Freud?”

“Since I watched my big brother screw up the best thing that ever happened to him,” Grant barked. “I love you, but you’re being an idiot.”

Mac raked his fingers through his hair again and fought the urge to kick something. “I don’t have time for this.”

“You love her. You know you do, and she loves you, too. Now go find her.”

“Find her?” Mac asked, a sense of alarm jolting through him. “She’s gone? Where is she?”