Page 108 of Mercenary
Yeah, Kylie’s always been smart. A master manipulator—better than Sabrina, the hired psychologist that trained us…almost as good as Hayden. With a penchant for pissing everyone off. Except Jaxson. No, Jaxson had thrived on the challenge of Kylie.
And she now has his blood on her hands.
“Are you my enemy?” I ask, curious what she’ll say. I move past her and further into the room.
“Do I have a reason to be?” she murmurs softly.
Damn it. I thought her shirt was red to match her horribly bright hair. It’s not. Her cotton top is completely soaked in blood.
I study her face, searching for any sign she’s in pain. I don’t find it. But what I do see, pains . . . me.
Jesus. Despite the hair and the damage done to her face, she bears a strong resemblance to Madelyn. Similar baby-blue eye color. Similar high cheekbones and smooth, delicate skin tone. Similar fullness of her lips, though granted Kylie’s is busted open. I scowl, the thought of what these men could have done to Madelyn . . .
“Okay, now you have me terrified. You’re always so aloof. Cold. Impenetrable. Yet right now I can read your expression. But is that sadness I see, or regret?” Not waiting for an answer—my lucky goddamn day—she sighs and relaxes her shoulders. “Do I look that bad?”
I don’t reply. I can’t trust myself to speak. Fuck, I’m here to kill her. Yet all I can think about is Madelyn.
I don’t want to hurt her.
I don’t want to goddamn lose her.
“You look like you need a stiff drink. Sorry I can’t offer you one.” She shrugs her shoulders. “Some of the blood’s mine. Most of it’s Franco and his men’s. Stupid fools. Pills? A needle would have worked much better.” She puts her hands on her hips and her eyes meet mine. “So what’s the plan?”
“We take them out. All thirteen motherfuckers.” I bend, pull out a third smaller pistol I carry in my sock, and hand it to her.
“And then?” she prompts in a whisper. Yeah, she should be afraid, quaking in her shoes.
“I haul you out of here as ordered.”
“Well, you don’t beat around the bush.”
“Why should I? You know the score.” I cock the hammer of my CZ 75 pistol and thumb the safety.
She snorts. “What makes you so certain I won’t shoot you before you get to me?”
I raise my eyebrow at her.
“Figures Hayden would send only his best after me. Predictable.”
“Why didn’t you tell Franco’s men about TORC earlier if you’ve already sold us out?” I demand.
“Jesus, Declan. Isn’t it obvious? I didn’t.”
“That’s not what Hayden believes. Someone talked. Franco’s gone ballistic and his asshole partner, Novák, shut down his compound and is now conducting business underground.”
Kylie sways on her feet, then steadies herself. “I’m going to kill that Prick Novák,” she grounds out.
“Hayden’s livid. You screwed us over, making it impossible to gather information. It’s all-out warfare now. We’re lucky if we manage to terminate a few of Novák’s men whenever they show back up in Shelby for business.”
“I was there.”
I frown.
“Five is an ugly number. Who did you think took out the fifth Prick that day at the diner?”
“Diego.”
She rolls her eyes. “The diner would be completely gone, flattened out from his handiwork.”
