Page 2 of Vendetta

I resist his push and look at him, disgusted. He just knocked a woman half his size out cold. I follow his calculating gaze toward her small body, making my fingers itch for the gun in my jacket pocket.

I know I shouldn't care. What the fuck is she doing here, anyway?

“Deal with this how?”

He just gives me a look.

“You can't be serious. Are you fucking nuts? If Keith finds out, you're done.”

“I'm done if I let her spill. Just mind your own damn business and get the hell out of here before someone else sees us together,” he says, a sheen of sweat forming on his forehead.

Of course, now’s the time to show he’s not nearly as confident as he likes others to think.

“It's going to look suspicious if she just turns up dead,” I try to reason with him. I hate that we have to work with George. I don't know why, I just don't trust him. The fact that she probably followed him here doesn't escape me. That's how reckless he is. Unfortunately, my uncle trusts him, and he's the only man we've got on the inside.

We both freeze at the moan that resonates above the constant noise in the harbor. I stand still, waiting to see if she wakes up, gets up, screams.Something. She moans again, but it's more of a sigh this time. I exhale in relief. It takes me a second to realize George is about to hit her again. Without thinking, I push him away from her.

“I'll deal with it,” I say, already knowing it's probably the worst decision I've ever made.

What the hell do I do with her? Where do I hide her? And how the hell do I stay away from her?

Maybe it's better to let him handle it. If things go according to plan, she's better off dying now.

George’s pinched features relax, his shoulders slumping. “Just make her go away.”

I crouch and check to see if she's gained consciousness but she's still out cold, her breathing even. I get up, fold the heavy envelope and shove it in the back pocket of my jeans. Then I bend down, picking Leighton Moore up, and throw her over my shoulder, walking away from the darkness of the parking lot that just decided her destiny.

For something so small, she’s not light at all, and it's not a short walk to my car hidden in an alley a couple of blocksdown. It's even longer because I have to take a couple of detour alleys, just to make sure I stay out of sight. There are cameras all over this city; someone is bound to notice a man carrying an unconscious woman over his shoulder. Not to mention that in a few hours when they realize she’s missing, someone will be looking for exactly that.

It's so fucking cold I can barely feel my limbs, and my breath’s coming out in puffs every time I breathe out. I curse as my foot slips on the icy pavement and I almost fall down. She makes a whimpering noise as I strengthen my hold, ignoring the placement of my hands on her ass.

Please don't wake up.I know the minute she wakes up she’ll start kicking and screaming and the last thing I need is attracting someone's attention to check what all the commotion is about.

I shake my head, muttering another curse. I should have just left her there. It's not like I have an overwhelming urge to play her knight in shining armor. God knows she's not a damsel in distress. The woman is poison, like all the Moores are. Unfortunately, despite what people think about me, I can't stand men hitting women, and I'm sure as fuck George wouldn't have minded taking another swing at her. We may be criminals, but we're not complete assholes.

She moans again as I put her in the backseat of my black SUV and buckle her in. I round the back, and open up the trunk, looking for something to bind her with. I shake off the fleeting thought that maybe she wouldn't fight me. It's Leighton Moore, for fuck's sake, of course she would.

Fishing out the cable ties, I go back and secure her wrists, then her ankles. It doesn't seem like enough. I don't want to see her eyes when she wakes up, which could be any second now, so I remind myself to hurry the fuck up. I take off the scarf from around her neck, feeling the silk under my fingers for justa second. Then I pull out my pocketknife, and slice it in half. I blindfold her, and then gag her with the other half.

At this point I know it’s probably overkill, but I've never kidnapped a woman before, so who knows? Plus, it's Leighton. She's not just any woman.

Of course I know Leighton Moore. I only wish I didn't.

I knew who she was the first time I laid my eyes on her. It didn’t make any fucking difference in the grand scheme of things. I was doomed to keep seeing her and not being able to do anything about it.

Shaking off that thought, I finally get in the car and start it, backing out and getting the hell away from this place.

When I'm far enough away, I pull over into a secluded woodland area on the side of the road and just sit there, my car idling. What the fuck do I do with her? I could take her to my place, I guess, but I'm barely ever there. Most of the time I’m either at my uncle’s house or I’m out, working. I take out my phone and stare at it, contemplating. I glance back at her, and realize I have no choice. I have to call my uncle.

LEIGHTON

My head aches, the throbbing sharp and unbearable.

I try to open my eyes, blinking furiously, but something's in the way.

I’ve been blindfolded.

I try to move, to sit up, but I've been restrained with something sharp cutting into my wrists tied in front of me. My ankles won't move either. My mouth is gagged with silky cloth, and I’m so parched I would give anything for some water.

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