Connor (The Kendall Family Series Book 2) (25 page)
It would take a minute for a sniper to reach him if trying to remain concealed along the way, and he knew they had to try. Most snipers knew enough about their target to make the kill easier, and that meant the guy knew Riley was a sniper, too. If the assassin came across the open field out back, Riley could pick him off. That meant he had a couple minutes.
Riley had been hunted before. The key to survival was being unpredictable. Be where the killer did not expect you to be. With that in mind, he ducked into the garage and clicked the button to open it. That should lure the assassin that way.
“Find Quinn,” he said to the dog, and Coby bolted through the garage and down the pavement toward his brother’s house. He wasn’t sure Coby would bring Quinn back, but he had to get rid of the dog. When the assassin entered the house, the sound of Coby’s claws would give the dog away and get him shot.
Riley went back inside, locking the door before discreetly peeking through a front window. No sign of activity except Coby rapidly disappearing. If he knew the sniper was alone, he might’ve gone out that way. Instead, he locked the front door and moved to the side of the house farthest from the garage, where he opened a kitchen window and lifted up the screen. Going outside was a risk, especially if the shooter had help, but the garage door should’ve drawn all attention away from his location.
He slipped outside, booted feet landing in the grass between several bushes he ducked behind. The drop happened so fast no one could’ve shot him had they seen his escape, but he moved away from the shrubbery anyway, moving to the house’s rear corner, where he looked across the back yard. Again he saw no movement, but the nearby trees had enough underbrush for someone to hide behind. So did the line of foliage on the garage side. Nothing but treetops and the rounded peak of Sugarloaf Mountain greeted his eyes. Never before had he thought it offered many chances to pick off someone. While he waited for a sign, the summer sun felt good on his bare shoulders and reminded him that his bulletproof vest was upstairs.
With nothing happening, he peered around the corner across the rear of the house just in time to see a single camouflage boot lift from the ground and disappear inside the house’s back door. The assassin was already inside, faster than expected, having come down the far side, apparently.
“Answers that question,” he muttered, glad for the knowledge. The advantage was his. On the other hand, the garage door bait hadn’t been taken, so maybe this guy had some brains.
Suddenly he remembered the smartphone in one pocket of his black jeans. His cousin Gil was something of a geek and had helped Riley install and set up security cameras at the family businesses. On a lark, Riley had installed some in the house. An app on his phone let him see inside when gone and even tilt and pan the cameras remotely. He fished out the phone, brought up the app, and pulled up a screen that let him see multiple cameras at once.
And there, in the living room, stood the sniper, a silver Colt Defender revolver sweeping side to side in one hand as the head swiveled quickly. Riley knew the guy was assessing with every second, and listening, too. The shooter moved right for the camera on the corner table and Riley frowned, expecting what came next as the assassin reached behind it for the plug. The image went black.
“Oh, well,” he said. “Time for a Plan B.”
Thinking hard about how to handle this, he waited for the assassin to appear in another camera and suspected it would be the kitchen. Anyone with half a brain cleared a floor first before going to another. The seconds ticked by while the guy likely checked the hall bathroom and foyer. Then the killer entered the kitchen, where another camera stood overlooking Coby’s food and water bowls. He moved straight for it, head moving back and forth and finally settling on the open window as one hand reached for the camera’s cord. When the camera went black, Riley realized he had just seconds before the assassin stuck a head out that window and saw him at the corner.
He tucked the gun into his waistband and quietly hurried back to the window. A little hand-to-hand combat would spice up his morning and keep the target alive for questioning. He crouched beneath the sill and flattened against the wall. If he stood to either side, the assassin could see him more easily, but the only way to be certain Riley wasn’t under the window was to stick a head out.
Or so he thought.
While Riley looked upward, the assassin stuck his red cooking pot, which he’d left on the stove, out the window and dropped it even as he began to surge upward. It cracked him on the head but he still grabbed the gloved hand and wrist. Then he yanked the assassin so hard that the guy flew out the window and over him into a bush, causing Riley to lose his grip. The Colt fell beside them in the grass.
In the time it took Riley to grab his Nighthawk, the nimble assassin leapt up and punched his wrist just as he brought the gun around. Numb fingers dropped the weapon, so he swung with the other fist. His target ducked and then delivered a spinning kick to his ribs, but Riley partially blocked it by grabbing the leg with both hands.
“Got you now,” he said.
“Like hell you do,” replied a woman’s voice.
Riley’s momentary startled reaction was enough for the assassin to kick her other foot toward his crotch despite risking falling to the ground. Riley saw it coming and closed his legs in time to trap her foot between his muscled thighs. Showing impressive strength, she didn’t fall. Instead, she sat up and swung both hands at his ears. To prevent the ear-boxing, he had no choice but to let go so that she fell to the ground. No sooner had she struck earth than she rolled for the Colt, but Riley straddled her, sitting down on her lush ass to lean forward and wrap a powerful arm around her neck.
“Time for a nap, sweetie,” he said in her ear, which smelled of lilacs. Then he compressed her windpipe while leaning on her back to squeeze the air from her lungs. He felt her holding her breath, but in time it finally exploded from her and she began to resist less until she finally went limp, in stark contrast to his hard cock pressing against her soft rear. He made sure she was out before relaxing his grip and checking her pulse.
“Can’t have you die on me,” he said to her unconscious body. “You have information I need.” He rolled her over, then lifted the mask to reveal a face like fine porcelain, high cheekbones framing eyes that were now closed. Full, sensuous lips made him wonder who’d been kissing them. Another tug on her mask and it came off, a tumble of long, wavy, auburn hair cascading around her. The softness it added contrasted with the hardened killer he knew she was and he grinned, stroking her cheek with one hand.
“And maybe you have something else I need. I’m really going to enjoy your strip search. I’d say it’s just business, honey, but believe me, it’s gonna get personal for me in a hurry.”
Chuckling in anticipation, he tucked both of their guns in his pants, along with her mask, and hauled her upright before lifting her over one shoulder. Then he sauntered toward the back door, patting his conquest on the rump once. He sensed that although he might’ve captured her, she could still be the death of him.
End of
Riley
Chapter 1
