HIS Choice: An H.I.S. Novel (H.I.S. series Book 2) (9 page)

“Damian, Denzel had to have fucked up. We didn’t do a thing to lead U.S. marshals to his door. Again, we didn’t know where he was so how could we
do it?”

“I don’t believe either of you! The question is whether it’s one of you or both of you who are
to blame.”

“Boss, I had nothin’ to do with it. Believe me,”
Hank pleaded.

“Damian, this is ludicrous. We’re loyal to you. We wouldn’t go behind your back and do something to hurt the organization.” AJ tried reasoning, but doubted it
would help.

His boss looked at the man standing next to him. “Hank, I’d believe this type of fuck-up of you. You aren’t always bright, and you run your mouth
too much.”

He turned to AJ. “You, I wouldn’t believe it of. But one of you did it. Admit it, or both of you take
the fall.”

“I didn’t do it, boss. I didn’t do it,” Hank
swore fervently.

“Damian, you know I wouldn’t do this, we wouldn’t
do this.”

Their time was at an end. The Magician had been embarrassed. Someone would be held accountable. They would be the ones to disappear
this time.

Damian drew so fast that he caught AJ off-guard and squeezed off a shot before he could draw. AJ fired, not taking time to bring his Beretta all of the way up Damian’s body before his world
went black.

* * * * *

Megan dropped her phone and a startled gasp escaped her lips. She reactively covered her mouth and stilled. A buzzing started in her ears, her heart raced faster than it ever had before. Had he
heard her?

Holding his side, Ape Man raised his head in
her direction.

Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. Don’t come after me. Don’t come
after me.

He looked down at the blood on his hands, turned and walked to his vehicle. His wound saved her. One of the men had shot him before he’d fallen to
the ground.

Thank you, Sherlock.

She’d overheard bits of the conversation. She’d caught, “the F-word, captured, I don’t believe either of you.” There had been no mistaking Ape Man’s anger. But to kill them? She hadn’t expected that in her wildest dreams. Maybe she should’ve brought Trent
after all.

He was going to wring her neck when he found out where she’d been and witnessed. So would her friends. Her neck ached thinking about all she’d have to endure when she returned to
the office.

She waited a few minutes after the boss left before she dared move. She fell over in the slushy snow, her legs no longer supporting her in the crouched position. She’d just witnessed two men being murdered. The unfamiliar state of panic rose within her. What should she do? She needed to call 911. She peeked at the bodies,
neither moved.

Her hands shook violently when she picked up her cell phone and wiped the snow from it. After three attempts, she finally typed her password in correctly. Suddenly, the journalist burst from her. What a story this will be! Her investigation had taken a dangerous turn. A boss exposed. A boss captured in the act
of murder.

When they arrived, the police officers would confiscate her cell phone. Once she explained what happened, they’d know she had photos or video of the meeting. They definitely wouldn’t allow her to take photos of the
dead bodies.

She nibbled on her lower lip, darting worried glances around. She should take photos now and send them to her email and then call the police. There was no hurry. Both men were dead. They couldn’t survive a shot to the chest at close range. She didn’t plan to let the police make her lose out on
this exclusive.

She could do this. Maybe she couldn’t. But she needed to, if she wanted to get closer to her brother’s killer. That had to trump
her fear.

Her mind made up, she stood on wobbly legs and then walked toward the bodies. She couldn’t believe they’d been murdered in cold blood. But they were criminals who did deadly things and murder happened to be one
of them.

She knew enough about this organization to know anyone they perceived as a threat disappeared, which meant dead. If he was an important boss and she testified against him, she would be considered a
major threat.

Would Trent be enough to protect her or would they place her in witness protection? There had to be another way. She wouldn’t run and hide. She had to continue this for Kevin. Trent would just need to hire those extra men he’
d mentioned.

There was no more time to think about that. She had to take these photos, then call the police. Then she’d return one of the fifty calls Trent had made to her. He might arrive any minute if he tracked her cell phone. She wouldn’t put it
past him.

Being around dead bodies began to creep her out. She raised her phone and snapped two photos with both men in the shot. They may have been bad guys, but they didn’t deserve to die like this, even though they’d probably done the same thing to other poor souls. Maybe even her brother. Did one killing
justify another?

Stepping closer, she stopped five feet from Watson and snapped a photo. She wanted a close up of his face so she swallowed hard and stepped closer. She’d never seen a dead body. She wasn’t sure what to expect. She hoped his eyes weren’t open. That blank stare was eerie on television, and she couldn’t imagine how frightening it would be in real life. She shuddered thinking
about it.

So much blood mixed in with the snow. She had to avoid stepping in it or the police would know what she’d done. How would she explain her footsteps to them? Would they believe she came over to check their pulses? To
help them?

Before moving forward, she took two deep breaths attempting to control her erratic breathing and
racing pulse.

Stopping near Watson’s shoulders, she snapped a photo of his face. Wait. She’d seen him before. He’d beat up Keyshawn. He was…wait a minute she knew his name. That’s right, Hank.

Oh no. Did that mean? She spun around, took a hesitant step closer to Sherlock. She gasped when she saw his face. It was him. AJ. He was dead.
Noooo!

In spite of her best efforts, tears pooled in her eyes and tremors shook her hands as she snapped photos of him. He couldn’t be dead. Why did he have to be a bad guy? She couldn’t forget what had happened between them or how quickly his hands had warmed
her blood.

She wanted to drop to her knees and cradle his face. She knew they’d never had a relationship or a chance to find out where the heat between them would have gone, but it hadn’t stopped her from dreaming. She had been connected with him on an elemental level. Her mouth pulled into a frown. An unexplained ache flooded her heart. What had he done to warrant
his death?

Did it have to do with his visit to her? Was Hank supposed to be there with him? That thought soured her stomach. He’d have beaten her. Did AJ die because they’d been physical? Unfortunately she doubted she’d ever find out. The boss spilling the beans
was doubtful.

She looked around the area. It was desolate and deserted. It was the perfect place for
a murder.

Something seized her ankle in a tight grip. She gasped, dropped her phone, looked down and her heart seized. AJ pointed a gun
at her.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he
ground out.

She screamed, wishing she’d carried Trent’s panic button
with her.

The excruciating pain that seared through his chest woke him along with the awareness of not being alone. How long had he been out? His clothing was damp from lying in the snow, and the cold had seeped
into him.

AJ struggled with his breathing, his lungs protesting his attempt at taking a deep one.
Son of a bitch!
He’d been shot in the chest at point blank range. Thank God he’d worn his body armor. The one his brother called the best money could buy and then some.
Thank you, Devon, for not being a
frugal bastard.

His brothers. Shit. He needed help, but he couldn’t call them. They’d be beyond pissed at him. He’d really fucked up this time. Maybe they were right that he couldn’t take care of himself, couldn’t make the right decisions. They’d never said it aloud, but he knew they thought it. He blamed himself for what had happened with Jake and Emily and he knew they blamed
him too.

No. He wouldn’t call them. He had to figure out what to do next because he couldn’t hang around here. He was supposed to be dead. If he stayed, he
would be.

He peered through tiny slits of his open eyes behind his
dislodged sunglasses.

It would’ve been easy to vanish before anyone was the wiser. But now he had a complication. A journalist
named Megan.

He didn’t want to do it, but he had to. Could his life get any more
fucked up?

He looked up at her wide fear-filled eyes. That was the second time he’d caused that look on her face. He didn’t like it. He was a fucking asshole of the first degree. Right now, self-preservation was more important than
her fear.

“What? Has the cat got your tongue? What the hell are you doing here? Are you alone?” He made an attempt to lift his head to look around. Huge mistake. It pulled at the painfully throbbing muscles in
his chest.

It took several attempts for her to speak. “Y-You. You. I s-saw him shoo-shoot you. You’re de-dead.”

“What do you mean you saw him shoot me?” AJ groaned. “Dammit, Megan. Not again. When will you learn? This is a dangerous game you’re playing.” He waved his weapon. “Case in point. Where the hell is Trent?” Trent would be another complication, but she needed her bodyguard’
s protection.

She didn’t get it. AJ could kill her right now. Was a headline so important to her, she didn’t care if she ended up dead? How the hell was he going to get her to drop this pursuit? Was revenge for her brother worth her
own life?

He’d always hated reporters. They took stupid chances and usually spewed incorrect facts. People believed the stories they wrote, but missed the correction hidden within the paper the
next day.

She made a frantic search of the area. “Let
me go!”

Wasn’t this what she’d said at their last meeting? Their last meeting. Fuck! Could his cock really be twitching right now thinking of being buried deep
inside her?

Enough about your small head. Use your big head to get out of this fucked
up situation.

She twisted her ankle, attempting to wrench it from his tight grip. Her arms flailed out to her sides as she lost her balance
and fell.

“I’ll let your ankle go, but I’m leaving my Beretta pointed at you. You just became my hostage.” He allowed his lips to curve into what he hoped was a
sinister smile.

The stricken look on her face tugged at his heart. She feared him. That should be a
good thing.

What was it about her? He led a rough and tough life. A live or die life. He’d done things she couldn’t even imagine. Things that still made him cringe. Yet, he wanted to protect her. To save her from herself and the foolish moves she
kept making.

A look of disbelief appeared on her face. “No! You can’t
be serious.”

“Oh yes. I’m deadly serious. Things have changed. You know I’m alive. I can’t have you publicizing that fact until I get away. So, you have a choice. I can kill you now or take you with me.” He raised an eyebrow at her shudder. “I thought you might prefer the non-lethal option. Now, sit there while I get up. Stand and run and I’ll have to shoot you. And don’t try me, Megan. Not when my life is
at stake.”

“You have no reason to need me for a hostage. I won’t tell anyone.
I promise.”

He laughed and stopped. Fire shot through his chest. Goddammit!
Broken rib or just bruised? He didn’t need this. He had to be 100 percent. At least he’d been lucky Damian had shot him in the chest instead of the head since he’d allowed the man to outdraw him.
Damn lucky.

“Are you kidding me? You’ll have it on the front page as soon as
you can.”

“But we…
but we…”

“We fucked?” he asked in an acid tone. “One thing has nothing to do with
the other.”

She bristled, pulled her shoulders back, crossed her arms over her chest and then raised
her chin.

Damn this woman
stirred him.

“If I choose death, I don’t believe that you’ll
kill me.”

Even in her defiant stance, the little minx shook so terribly he expected to feel the vibrations through the ground. Yet she
tested him.

“You won’t really kill me
will you?”

“Megan, that’s what I do for a living. Why would you be any different? I warned you, didn’t I? If you didn’t mind your business, I told you what would happen. Now, you’ve pissed
me off!”

He struggled to stand. Sharp pain ripped through his chest. Spots danced before his eyes and darkness rimmed them, slowly closing in. He couldn’t afford to pass out again. He halted on his hands and knees, closed his eyes and worked to control his rapid breathing and the nausea threatening to
consume him.

He had to be careful. If a rib had been broken, he didn’t want to puncture a lung. He wouldn’t give that asshole the pleasure of finding him here, dead.

Someone would arrive soon to clean up the scene, dispose of the bodies. When they learnt he wasn’t dead, they would show up at his apartment to finish the job. He figured he had a few hours tops, probably less since Damian had been involved. AJ crawled on his hands and knees to Hank. No pulse. AJ patted him down taking his Sig Sauer P226 and the extra clip he carried, adding it to his arsenal. He’d best prepare
for war.

He couldn’t believe Denzel had been fucking captured. It was shitty luck he and Hank had been blamed. The boss had to make a point, and that meant AJ couldn’t live. Even if he disappeared on his own, they’d search for him. He had to vanish permanently, for this to be settled. That’s not how he planned to settle
things though.

He finally made it to a standing position surprised she hadn’t taken the opportunity to run. He pointed the Beretta back at her. “Get up. Where’s your car?” His gaze moved over the area,
missing nothing.

She stood, wiped the snow from her luscious ass
and pointed.

“Let’s go, my little dove. We take
your ride.”

“You can take it. Just leave me.” She stood rooted to the spot reaching in her pocket for what he hoped was
her keys.

“No can do. Let’s have a look at what’s in
those pockets.”

Her eyes widened, and he knew she had something she didn’t want him to see. Instead of providing her the opportunity to pull anything from it, he reached into the pocket and grabbed her hand. Bingo. It was wrapped around
something cylindrical.

He jerked it out of her hand and pocket. “Pepper spray. Were you really planning to use this
on me?”

Her shoulders sagged in what he imagined was defeat. He checked her other pocket and sure enough keys were there. “Where’s
your purse?”

Her eyes widened again. What the hell was she
hiding now?

She sighed heavily. “It’s in the trunk of
the car.”

“Looks like we’ve a little bit of a walk so let’s get a move on.” They sloshed through the muddy snow toward the used car lot. “You must’ve arrived very early to set up. Where were you hidden? More importantly, did anyone
see you?”

If they’d noticed her she’d be lying dead beside Hank. Immense relief surged through AJ, flooring him. He would kill Trent for allowing her to be
here alone.

She waved her hand over her shoulder. “I hid behind one of the stacks
of metal.”

She put some distance between them. He hoped she didn’t run. He was in no shape to chase her. And she was right. He wouldn’t shoot her. She didn’t need to know that
for certain.

“How’d you know about
this meeting?”

She shrugged. “I have my sources.” Her head snapped his way and her eyes narrowed. “I’m not telling you who
they are.”

He enjoyed her display of defiance and bravery. She protected her sources even while facing possible death. He liked this woman more and more. Dammit. He had to quit thinking like that. He couldn’t drag her into his miserable,
dark world.

“I don’t recall asking you,” he drawled wondering who within the organization would run their mouth off to a reporter. They must enjoy living on
the edge.

“What happened? I couldn’t hear a thing.” Her
voice cracked.

“Always the reporter, aren’t you? Well, that conversation remains private.”

She couldn’t learn about the prison breaks. He followed her work. She was like a dog with a bone, she’d never let it go. She was already in over her head but didn’t seem to realize it. Publicizing the escapes would change things dramatically. There’d be no more warnings for her, no accidents. It’d be downright, cold-
blooded murder.

Trudging through the snow, about halfway to her car, he heard, “Would you
slow down?”

“No. We don’t know when a cleanup crew will arrive. The boss should’ve done it himself, but he left instead. I can’t get
caught here.”

She darted him a quick look, one full of what looked like understanding, then nodded. “You wounded him. His side was bleeding.”

Cold satisfaction slithered through AJ. “Good. He’s deserves to die for attempting to kill me.” His anger hadn’t subsided, nor had the pain in his chest. It had worsened with the exertion, the painful throbbing increasing with each accelerated heartbeat. This was not what he’d wanted when he’d woken up
this morning.

“Where are
we going?”

“You’ll see when we
get there.”

She glanced at his pocket again. She continued to surprise him. He imagined her wheels were turning on ways to escape and the story she’d write. He had no idea which
took precedence.

Sweat covered his body and slid down his back. He had to get somewhere safe so he could take care
of himself.

“Open the trunk,” he demanded, deliberately hardening his voice, leaving no room
for argument.

She hesitated.

What the fuck? “Give me the damn keys.” He reached toward her.

She snatched them closer to her. “No. I’ll
do it.”

“Don’t you dare touch your purse. My trigger finger won’t hesitate.”
Pure lie.

After opening the trunk she stepped back, her gaze stuck on
her purse.

He searched it and found a handgun. He’d been damn lucky she hadn’t had it with her. Whether she’d have used it or not was irrelevant. The fact she could have stuck
with him.

He added it to the pepper spray in his pocket. “Any weapon hidden in
the car?”

She shook
her head.

“Get in. Don’t be foolish. You’ve done enough of that already today.” He waved his gun
at her.

With a considerable amount of effort, he settled in the car, gasping for breath, each one more painful than the last. He closed his eyes, accepting the pain and turning his focus to
remaining alive.

“Megan, you have to keep what you saw today quiet. No police and most of all,
no newspaper.”

“Are you kidding me?” She glanced over at him. “Two people, well one person was murdered. I can’t ignore that because you need to get away from these people. I have to tell the police, and there is no way I’d ignore
this story.”

He noticed a sparkle in her eye. That damn journalist in her. When would she finally get it? They’d come after her and no amount of protection would
be enough.

“Are you trying to get killed? That’s what will happen if you print any of what you witnessed today. There are too many corrupt police officers. Going to the wrong one with this story will get you killed. Either way you’re dead, and Trent won’t be enough help. No story’s
worth it.”

Her lips flattened and he waited for her to snap and growl at his edict. Instead she asked, “How do you know there are corrupt
police officers?”

Of course, she zeroed in a possible story instead of her life being at risk. Did she use digging into a story to
overcome fear?

“I work for the bad guys remember? I know lots of things,” he
stated flatly.

Her grip on the steering wheel tightened, her knuckles gradually turning white. “Let me
interview you.”

“No way. I’ve nothing to say to the press.” She obviously feared him somewhat yet she wanted to get a story out of him. Good grief. This woman would drive anyone to drink with that stubborn determination. He admired
her gumption.

Staring straight ahead, she quietly asked, “Why did you have sex
with me?”

Because you were a breath of fresh air when I needed it. You were more beautiful and appealing than anyone I have ever been with.
Tasted the sweetest too
. He allowed none of his thoughts to show on his face, instead he raked his gaze over her slowly. “Are you kidding me? You’re hot. Who wouldn’t want to fuck you? I’d fuck you again if I didn’
t hurt.”