“Yes, London, here,” Ophelia murmured as the waiter slid the glass of Scotch along the bar toward me then discreetly left. She slid her dress up, her hand disappearing between her thighs as she lifted her foot to the barstool and hooked it on the rung. “I made sure I didn’t wear panties just for this. Now, on your knees.”
I could kill her.
I could fucking kill her and take out as many as I could.
Hale would be first.
Macoy Daniels next…
But would I get them all? What about all the others who didn’t come to these things? The faceless bastards that jerked the strings. I tried to think it through, plan it out just like I used to in my life before.
Her fingers sank into her bare pussy and came away slick. “I’m waiting, London. Don’t tell me you don’t want me?”
The fucking contract.
The fucking contract.
I turned my head, grabbed the glass, and downed the contents in one gulp. My breaths were slow, aching slow. Hands steady. No matter what, I still had that steely state. One that I could use to kill any man in this room before they even knew I’d moved. So I could man up and get on my knees and eat pussy.
I swallowed, moved toward her, and slid my hand around to cup the back of her neck. But she didn’t give in to me. Her spine was ramrod stuff. “What the fuck are you doing?”
I scowled. “Kissing you.”
There was a cruel tug at the corner of her mouth. “I don’t want you to kiss me, London. I want you to eat me. I want to ride that gorgeous fucking face of yours until I come. Now…”
Jesus.
Jesus…
My throat clenched. I tried to swallow the urge to retch and slowly sank to the floor. Wide brown eyes filled my head. My wildcat was all I focused on. Just think of her…just think of…fuck you, London. Her voice filled my head.
Fingers sank into my hair. “You’re smiling, good.”
In an instant, the pleasure faded along with my fantasy. I swallowed hard and ran my hand along her leg, closed my eyes and leaned close to kiss the inside of her thigh.
“What the fuck!” came the voice behind the bar.
“London!”
I jerked my head upwards at the roar.
“LONDON!!”
I shoved upwards as I caught movement in the corner of my eye. Stark blond hair and wild blue eyes that scanned the room and narrowed in on me before he jerked his gaze to Ophelia. A look of revulsion filled him as he swung the gun in his hand. A cold wash of panic filled me and forced me to my feet in an instant as Ophelia released her hold on her dress and ended the sickening view.
“What do we have here?” she murmured.
I saw the desperate need in my son’s eyes as he leveled the weapon on her and for a second, I almost stepped aside so I didn’t catch the spray, until it hit me…he wouldn’t get out of this alive. One small shake of my head and I caught the movement behind him as Colt followed…with the heavy black body bag over his shoulder.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” I muttered as I stepped forward and left Ophelia and her aching cunt behind.
My sons never slowed, just scanned the rooms and narrowed in on the low ruckus in the dining room, then headed that way. Fuck! I followed, knowing there was no way I could cut them off, and instead I caught sight of Colt as he carried the body through the dining room.
Heads snapped our way as conversation stilled. A pity my fucking sons didn’t as Colt just stopped at the head of the table and heaved the body off his shoulder until it hit the dining room table with a sickening THUD!
Roars erupted from those sitting around Hale. The pompous pricks shoved up from their chairs and lunged backwards as glass shards and shattered fine china flew through the room.
“What the fuck is this?” Hale roared, his wide eyes fixed on me.
I stopped at the body lying across the table in front of him like a rotting fucking meal and I did the only thing I could…I gave the bastard what he wanted. Coldly. Calmly. I reached over, grabbed the thick zipper, and yanked, exposing the bloodless face of Creed Banks for all to see.
“Jesus fucking CHRIST!” Hale jerked his gaze from the body to me as his guests reeled in horror. “What the fuck is this?”
I wasn’t just a skilled assassin at that moment. I was the protector. The guardian of those I loved and the orchestrator of controlled violence as I answered. “You wanted Banks, so here he is.”
Hale’s lips curled. My mind raced, tearing through every foul fucking thought that was running through his head. Don’t look away…don’t…look…away…
His seething stare pinned me to the spot. “Who?”
“Benjamin Rossi.”
His scowl narrowed as he looked at the white, chalky skin of the corpse. From the corner of my eye, Ophelia stepped close, staring at the body. Hale narrowed in on her, and that hateful expression softened. “Get me that Rossi bastard,” he demanded as he turned to me. “I want the sonofabitch on his fucking knees.”
“Consider it done,” I muttered as I reached into my pocket and pulled out the contract. It was a bold move doing this in front of an audience. But he left me no choice. “For your signature.”
He glanced at the folded paper in my hand then met my stare. I tried to read those eyes, tried to pick his thoughts apart as he murmured. “I’ll be in touch.”
I gave a nod and turned to leave, but he stopped me. “And get this out.”
I met Colt’s gaze, but the son wasn’t moving. His eyes were wide, the whites almost neon against the blue. But it was his pallor that filled me with fear. He was as pale as the body we’d just delivered in front of all these men.
I jerked my gaze to Carven, who looked from me to his brother, then he froze. “Out,” I demanded with a jerk of my head before I turned and reached for the body myself, yanked the zipper closed, and heaved it up over my shoulder.
“Move,” I growled, pushing against Colt to force the son out of the goddamn dining room and away from the one person I couldn’t trust him to be around without mentally shattering into a thousand fucking pieces.
Carven shoved his brother, driving him backwards. Even though Colt could easily have taken his twin out, he let Carven propel him toward the door.
They all fucking stared, and if it had been just me, I wouldn’t have given a fuck. But there was no way they were looking at what belonged to me. I met each of them with a savage glare of my own and strode from the room carrying the heavy weight of Creed Banks over my shoulder.
It wasn’t the first body I’d ever carried and I was sure that by the time I had my little wildcat, it wouldn’t be the last. But even as I hauled the heavy weight out to the sons’ Explorer, I was so fucking grateful.
My phone gave a hmm as it vibrated in my pocket as Carven yanked the passenger door open and shoved his brother inside.
Hmm…
Hmm…
My phone kept vibrating as I yanked open the rear door and dropped the heavy weight to the floor of the car. “What the fuck is it?” I snarled as I pulled my phone out and stared at three frantic messages and two missed calls from Guild.
Ice slipped through my veins as I opened the first message and read: She’s gone.
“What the fuck?” I scanned the rest of the frantic texts as I opened the app on my phone, finding the tracker on the display.
“What is it?” Carven stepped closer. “London…”
I jerked my gaze up as savage rage rolled through me. “Get rid of the body and take care of your brother,” I snarled as I punched in a message. “You might not want to come home tonight.” I turned away, stomped down the driveway, and left them behind. “I’m about to throttle that goddamn woman, as soon as I get my hands on her.”
Headlights flared at the end of the driveway as they headed toward me.
I knew Gabriel would be close.
And for that I was thankful.
Tires crunched on stones as he swung the car and pulled up hard. But instead of climbing into the back seat of the sleek black Mercedes, I cut across the front of the car and opened the driver’s door. He looked up at me, confused for a second, before he narrowed in on the rage in my eyes and murmured slowly. “I’m walking, aren’t I?”
I clenched my jaw…unable to say a goddamn word.
