Page 38 of Mercenary
So does Kylie.
Hayden’s ordered me to hunt her down before she spills more TORC secrets. Exposing the off-the-grid private security contracting organization Hayden’s built from the ground up. We’re the big, bold ink marks on the armed-forces spreadsheet staring you in the face, yet unrecognizable. The unknown factor. Accountable to no man, no country. The general public doesn’t know we exist. Our enemies never see us coming. We operate by our own rigid code of ethics. Hayden’s organization, Hayden’s rules.
My assignment is to find her, then call in before making the hit.
With pleasure.
She’s put TORC at risk. But that’s Hayden’s reason for issuing the hit. Mine?
Jaxson.
Specifically her role in getting my best friend killed. And she’s going to pay with her life because of it.
I scowl. My head throbs, the aftermath of downing a bottle and a half of Jack mixed with fatigue from a lack of sleep. Not the first time I’ve felt like shit. From the seat next to me, Madelyn watches me. But I ignore her while I fumble inside my pocket, searching for the bottle containing the Rohypnol pills along with what I really need, a few stray Advil stored inside. I find it, and after unsuccessfully trying to open it with one hand, I grow impatient and give up. “Damn childproof bottles,” I grind out, tossing the jar onto the backseat.
Madelyn stiffens, then draws her head back against it, like she wants to disappear into the leather seat cover. Not liking the hardness she’s read on my face.
I curse a litany of filthy words. Acting out of character, like some angry feral animal baring its teeth. The idea pisses me off more, especially when she recoils further, distancing herself as much as she possibly can within the passenger’s seat.
Fuck, what is it about her that has me acting more like Diego than myself? That hothead is the loose cannon within TORC. Quick to temper and quicker to act. Useful in his own right—Hayden needs a guy like Diego for the big booms. The mass terminations. So contrary to the quiet, in-and-out hits I specialize at. Yeah, I’m the guy you don’t see coming until it’s too late.
A fact my fellow contractors, including Kylie, are well aware of.
We’ll see how far Kylie runs when she learns who I’m keeping company with.
Against my better judgment, I rake my eyes over Madelyn. From the chipped pink polish on her toenails, which peek out between her sandals, to the long fingers around her kneecaps, and up to her perfectly formed face, her bottom lip swollen from her biting down on it, her high cheekbones pink despite her tan, the long fair eyelashes as she tightens her lids in an effort to hide from my intense scrutiny of her. My balls feel heavy, my cock hard. When was the last time I wanted a woman for the sake of simply getting off? To sink balls-deep inside her and allow my baser instincts to take over?
Never.
Right. What the hell am I thinking? I’m Hayden’s best. I spent years proving myself. Climbing a cutthroat’s corporate ladder, each kill solidifying my spot near the top. Hayden’s merciless right-hand man. His go-to killer.
She closes her eyes, her head angled back against the seat. Blocking me out—which is what I should be doing to her. From the way she’s sitting, the bruises on her chin are on full display. I bite back a curse. Fighting for control, I resume my death grip on the steering wheel.
I don’t want her. And even if I did, she’s not for the likes of me. If Hayden only knew . . .
My goddamned throat’s on the line because of her, what I’ve done for her. I plan on keeping myself in Hayden’s good graces rather than on the receiving end of his wrath. Locate a traitor and slice off a sweet piece of revenge.
Do your damn job. Use her, I tell myself.
If anything, you bought Madelyn time.
After all, she should be dead right now.
I hit the accelerator and turn my attention to the road.
Because once I fill my boss in on who’s keeping me company, how I picked up where his amateur hit men left off back in Cabo, the bait I’m using to lure a clever, deceitful mercenary in, Madelyn will wish she never called me.
11
Madelyn
His lips have touched mine and his tongue’s tangled with my own. His finger has been inside me, just one but it still counts. He’s killed to protect me, yet his name remains a mystery, another question added on to my FIO list.
I study him from beneath my lashes. So controlled. So unreachable. And I’m persistent, determined to break through anyway. “What’s your name?” I softly ask.
A prolonged silence follows. What did I expect? His indifference has been like a third companion riding between us.
We’ve crossed state lines into Oklahoma. A state where stormy days cast a hopeless sense of darkness across the flat lands, followed by a kind of trouble that leaves you shaky for days. My own kind of trouble silently brews in the seat next to me. Ignoring me as he keeps his eyes fixed on the road. Or, more and more frequently, on the rearview mirror.
