Nothing To Lose: A Grey Justice Novel (47 page)

Nick would have heard that Denton was on his way down. He would know what to do. Now it was her turn.

Returning to her chair, a shiver, only partially an act, visibly swept through her. Gathering the coat in her lap closer to her, she slipped her hand in her pocket and hit the record button on the side of the phone.

She took an imperceptible, bracing breath to steady herself and faced the man who had destroyed her life. “You won’t get away with killing me.”

“Of course I will.”

“How many people have you killed?”

“Me?” He looked slightly amused. “No one personally. I mean, it’s not like I have a six-shooter and go around shooting people. I run several multibillion-dollar companies. My time is limited.”

Actually other people ran the companies for him. From what she could tell, Adam went around making bad investments, losing money and then schmoozing people hoping to recoup his losses. She held her tongue. Telling him what she thought about his business skills would have only put him on the defensive. The boastful side of Adam would get her what she needed.

“So you just have other people kill for you.”

“Something like that. Your husband and that sleazy mole from our accounting firm were actually my first termination assignment.”

Yes, this is where she wanted him to go. “You’re the one who ordered my husband’s death?”

“Yes. Quite an empowering moment, if I do say so myself.”

Fighting the urge to hurl herself at him and pummel his face into a bloody mess, she asked, “How did you know about Thomas’s investigation?”

He made a casual wave of his gun. “We’ve got informants everywhere. When we first heard about O’Connell, we weren’t really worried. The man could find nothing. Then that sleazebag snitch Milton Ward contacted your husband. We had no choice but to take both of them out. And despite Cyrus’s opinion, everything worked out just fine. With the exception of you dying, that is. But that was his fault, not mine.”

She had what she needed. Now it was time to escape and find Nick. Calling on one of the more amusing acting lessons Irelyn had given her, Kennedy whispered truthfully, “I hate you,” then covered her face with her hands and began to sob uncontrollably. The noise sounded authentic to her, but was Adam buying it? She dared a peek through her fingers. Irelyn had told her tears made men uncomfortable, and sure enough, Adam was squirming in his seat, looking lost, helpless and completely out of his element. Apparently, this trick worked even on conscienceless criminals.
 

“Could you get me some tissue?”

“There’s some right behind you.”

Kennedy turned. He was right. There was a box of tissues behind her, along with a wooden statue of Venus. She bent down but instead of the tissue, she grabbed the statue, whirled and slammed it against the gun in his hand, knocking it to the floor.
 

Adam cursed, grabbing for the gun. Kennedy dashed toward the stairway door, cringing when bullets whizzed by her. He had recovered the gun sooner than she’d expected. Another bullet whooshed by, inches from her face, and slammed into the wall beside her.
 

Kennedy jerked the door open and dove. Soaring through the air, she landed on her side, halfway down the stairs. Ignoring the pain of her bruised hip, she took a second to pull the gun from her thigh holster and slip out of her shoes.
 

Springing to her now bare feet, she took off down the stairway.

Chapter Forty-five

Hidden behind the giant desk in the foyer, Nick tried to suppress his rising panic as he waited for Cyrus Denton to arrive. In the middle of Kennedy’s conversation with Adam, which included him admitting he’d ordered the hit on Thomas, there had been some kind of scuffle. Nick had heard a man grunt and rapid footsteps. The terrifying sound of several shots being fired. And then nothing. No words, no sounds. Had Kennedy been shot? Was she lying on the floor somewhere, bleeding out, while he waited for this asshole to show up?

A voice rumbled behind him. “Okay, slowly stand up, drop your gun. Put your hands in the air.”

Jaw locked with frustration and fear for Kennedy, Nick stood and put the gun beside him on the desk.

“Now, don’t be stupid. Take your left hand and push the gun toward me.”

When Nick complied, he added, “Bend down and with your left hand, take the gun from your ankle holster.”

“I don’t have a gun at my ankle.”

“Lift your pant legs, let me see.”

Nick pulled at his pant legs to show he had no hidden weapons at his ankles.

“Huh…I’m surprised. I figured you for a guy who would’ve been better prepared. Okay, let’s head over to the elevators. There’s a little lady I think you’ll be happy to see…at least for a few minutes until I have to kill you both.”

Nick kept his hands up, but instead of moving forward, he slowly turned to face the man.

“Dammit, I told you—” Denton’s eyes went wide. “Well, I’ll be damned…you’re that cop I shot.”

Of all the things he’d thought the guy would say, this hadn’t been one of them.
 

“Thanks for telling me.” Nick gave an arrogant nod. “That’ll just make me doubly glad when I kill you.”

The big man grinned his approval. “I like a man with confidence.” He jerked his head toward the long bank of elevators. “Let’s get going…they’re working now.”

Denton was a professional killer. Nick wasn’t about to underestimate him, but neither was he going to follow the guy’s commands. This ended here.

Hands still in the air, Nick twisted sideways and went for his gun on the counter. Denton got there first, grabbed the gun. Nick landed on the other side of the counter. Squatted down, he waited for his opportunity.

“Now that was a damn stupid move. Get up asshole…it’s time for you to die.”

Pulling the gun he’d tucked underneath his jacket at the small of his back, Nick surged to his feet. “You first.” Firing, he put one round in Denton’s forehead, one in his chest. The man fell back like a giant oak.

He grabbed the dead man’s gun, retrieved his weapon from the floor and then made a mad dash to the elevators. His fist pounded the Up button as he whispered urgently, “Come on…come on…”
 

Pulling out his cellphone, he pressed speed-dial for Justice. The instant the man answered, Nick said quickly, urgently, “I need backup at Slater Enterprises.”

“Sending help now.”

Nick pocketed his phone, glared up at the elevator lights. Why the hell did the elevator
 
have to take so long? Should he go ahead and just try for the stairs? He could—

Rapid gunfire sounded. He whirled. The stairs! It was coming from the stairs. Taking off like a madman, Nick skidded to a stop at the entrance to the stairs. He jerked open the door and took off up the stairway. More gunfire erupted, and then the most horrifying sound of all spiraled down to him: a blood-curdling scream of agony.

Kennedy raced down the hallway, grabbed hold of a door, twisted the knob. Locked, dammit. She took off again. She was now on the thirty-fifth floor, having made it seven floors down before Adam caught up with her. He’d shot at her three times, missed twice. That gun she’d been so proud to have in her hand had flipped from her fingers the instant she’d been shot. She had managed to get away from him, but fire burned in her right shoulder, blood trickled down her arm, which was becoming increasingly useless. And she had no weapon.

She came to another door, jiggled the handle. Locked again. Dammit, didn’t anyone leave their door open in this place?

A squeak sounded from behind her, and she glanced over her shoulder, saw the stairway door opening. He’d found her. She turned a corner, saw another door, said a prayer and reached for the door handle, which twisted and came open. Closing the door softly behind her, she had little time to explore her surroundings. Though the room was dark, she noticed the small light of a soda dispenser. No wonder she had been able to get inside…this was a break room. She fitted herself between a cabinet and a vending machine, stooped down and waited.

Adam’s quick footsteps sounded in the hallway. His voice, loud and wheedling, sent shudders through her body. “Ken…na…dy! Where are you? Come on out, hon, and let’s settle this once and for all. I know you’re dying to see your wimp of a husband and that little baby you lost. Just think, all you have to do is walk out into the hallway, and it’ll all be over. Then you can live happily ever after.” Laughter rang out. “Oops, I mean die happily ever after.”

She knew the taunts were supposed to enrage her so she would make a mistake. Nothing the evil bastard said could hurt her. She had been through hell…lost everything she held most dear, but she had survived, found life again and a wonderful man to share it with. This loathsome creature would not steal anything more from her.

So she waited…held her breath. She tried not to think about Nick. He was trained and fit. He knew how to handle himself. He would survive—there was no other option. She just needed to find a way to get away from Adam, and then Nick would take care of him.

Footsteps were right outside the door. Kennedy froze in place, barely breathing.
 

Adam paused for an instant, and then he moved away. Seconds later, she heard his loud sigh and then, “Well, I guess she’s on another floor,” and then footsteps again as if he were moving farther away. She heard the slam of the stairway door.
 

His actions reminded her of a child playing hide-and-go-seek, trying to make a playmate believe he had given up and moved on. So she waited.

Dizziness assailed her…she had to get something on her shoulder to stop the bleeding or she would pass out. Grateful her eyes had adjusted to the dim lighting, she spotted a stack of napkins on one of the tables. She crawled to the table, grabbed the napkins and tucked a wad under her sleeve.
 

Nausea threatened, but she fought it for all she was worth. The pain was nothing compared to losing Nick…she needed to get to him. Adam had to have gone to another floor by now. She could wait no longer.

Cautiously, she opened the door and peeked out. No sound. Quickly, quietly, she targeted the exit sign above the stairway door. If Adam was on the stairs, waiting for her, she’d have to duck back out quickly, but she had no choice but to move.

She opened the door, listened intently…still no sounds. Taking a chance, she ran down the stairs. Her head spun, the steps blurred before her, but she made herself continue. To keep herself focused on staying upright, she ticked off the floor number with each level she reached—twenty-five, twenty-four.

Where was Adam? Was he searching each floor? She could only hope. Sixteen…fifteen… Had Nick taken care of Denton yet? Was he on the elevator, headed up to Adam’s office? How long ago had he called for help?

Tenth floor…nine more to go. She could do this. Her arm was bleeding profusely now…she’d lost the napkins somewhere. The blurred red of an exit sign danced over her head, taunting her…inviting her to go inside, rest for a bit. Not yet, not yet.

Fifth floor, four more to go. She could do this, she could do this. Think of Nick. He was waiting for her…he loved her…

Fourth floor…three more to go.

On the third-floor landing, the door surged open. Adam stood at the entrance, his mouth stretched in an evil, devilish grin. Creepy, dead-like eyes gleamed with an inhuman malevolence. “Ha…ha…ha…caught ya!”
 
He raised the gun slowly as if savoring the final moment.
 

Oh hell no. She had come too far, lost too much, to let this bastard win. She caught sight of a fire extinguisher hanging from the wall. With superhuman strength and the roar of a furious woman who would not be defeated, Kennedy grabbed the cylinder and swung it around. She wasn’t aiming at anything in particular but managed to knock the gun from his hand.
 

Adam yelped and dove for the gun. Kennedy swung again, aiming for his head, only hit his chest but managed to keep him from the gun. With a growling curse, he lunged toward her. She swung again, caught his shoulder in a glancing blow. He stumbled back and then surged forward once more.
 

Aware that her strength was almost at an end, Kennedy drew on every bit of fury and anger she had within her to raise the cylinder again. “This is for my husband and baby, you son of a bitch.”
 

She slammed the extinguisher into his face. Blood spurted, splattering against the walls and all over her. His eyes rolled back in his head, and Adam fell hard, onto his back.

Breathless but triumphant, she stood over the man, who, without any conscience or remorse, had taken everything from her. His eyes were half open, his mouth and nose a bloody mess. He looked weak, pitiful—not a man but a willing pawn for his even more evil father. She searched for compassion, forgiveness. Found none.

“And this one’s for me.” Even though her strength was almost gone, she found enough to lift the extinguisher once more and slam the base into Adam’s groin. His squeal of agony bounced against the walls, echoing skyward in the empty staircase.

“Kennedy!”

Her breath coming in fits and spurts, she looked down to see Nick racing up the stairs, fire blazing in his eyes.