Hard to Kill (11 page)

"
Guys are so sophomoric sometimes." She giggled. The sound seemed so contrary to what he'd seen of her so far, he stared to make sure he'd really heard it. And, yep, she had a big old smile on her face and even a hint of a twinkle in her eye.

Seconds later, she morphed quickly to the tough-as-nails persona once again.
"Hmmm. While it seems a little bit crazy to ride in on motorcycles like some version of Hells Angels, I do have unfinished business with Marco. I need to know who he sold Caitlyn to. And, if I'm lucky, maybe make him sorry he was ever born."

"
Oh no you don't." He grabbed her arm between the seats. "I need him to give me information about Trinity. He's the best lead I have so far." He was in enough trouble going off script. Now he needed to justify to the powers that be that he made the right decision.

"
Just so you're clear, nothing is going to stop me from getting the information I need about Caitlyn Collins."

Kane glared at Sabrina in that intimidating way that cops did. Maybe he thought that would make her back down.

"
Why? Getting Caitlyn wasn't sanctioned by The Alliance."

She shook her head.
The fed information highway strikes again.
"I'm trying to help the Collins family because it's the right thing to do. Just because The Alliance decided the mission was too risky to undertake doesn't mean I could say no."

Petrovich had his own little arsenal of young killers, starting with the KOS and later recruiting orphaned youth to his own personal army. He played God, deciding who he thought was worthy of living and dying, and sent the minions he trained to do his dirty work. Trinity
's organization was doing the same thing, making a handsome profit preying upon innocent young women for sexual exploitation, had pushed more hot buttons than she cared to think about. But that was not her problem. She only had one objective. Caitlyn Collins. 

"
You've got some skills, so don't take this the wrong way, but if I hadn't gotten you out of there, you'd be another one of the statistics. Those guys would have been able to capture you and bring you to Marco."

"
I've gotten out of much more difficult spots." Like when Max had nearly died. A twisting sensation in her gut wound her nerves a little tighter. Thinking and dwelling about Caitlyn's predicament, intertwined with her own up-close-and-personal experience, made the situation more urgent than ever. "The local police filed Caitlyn as a runaway. After a couple of hours on her computer I found the conversation with Marco he thought he'd remotely deleted, with the mention of Trinity Modeling as the lure. At that point, I couldn't say no, especially after seeing her parents cling to that one sliver of hope I was offering. They wanted their girl back, and I promised them I would do that for them."

"
And once you make a promise, there's no turning back."

"
Exactly. I'm going to find that bastard and string him up by his balls." The conviction steeled her nerves and brought a sense of calmness throughout her system.

"
Where were you trained? You've got the Uzi down, and with your Krav Maga skills I'm guessing Israeli Army. Am I right?"

She felt the uptick in her pulse at his far-from-innocent questions. He didn
't know about her past with Petrovich, and she'd just as soon keep it that way. "Let's say I've managed to acquire some skills in my life."

"A woman of mystery?" He shook his head even though she knew he wanted to probe further. "While I appreciate your need for vengeance, do not kill Marco. He may have information I need."

She brought her foot up onto the seat, relaxing back against the door.
"Can I torture him just a little?"

He laughed and she glanced his way. Darn it, those dimples
sprang to life and she felt this tiny flutter in the pit of her stomach. Girly thoughts were not her normal modus operandi. She enjoyed sex as much as the next person, but it was the emotional piece she didn't take kindly to.

"
As long as he can tell me what I need, I'm okay with that."

"
Now that we have a plan—such as it were"—she glanced at him and rolled her eyes—"and firepower, we need to get to Marco. How soon can you get the dirt bike?"

Despite the lack of sleep
, a surge of adrenaline at the mere mention of progress made her ready to go full steam ahead.

"
It's not quite so easy."

"
Why did I have a feeling you were going to say that?"

"
It's about timing. You're going to need a disguise."

She nodded her agreement.
"My natural hair color is dark brown anyway. I dyed it to make myself look closer to twenty than thirty."

He glanced at her and smiled.
"I'll get some hair dye at the next store we see. And a pair of scissors."

She held up her hand.
"I'm far from a prima donna, and know guys don't care much about their hair, except when it's falling out, but a pair of scissors outside of a licensed professional is kind of scary for a female." She fingered through her shoulder-length locks.

"
Big bad Sabrina Shaw afraid of a measly pair of scissors?" He winked. "No need to worry, I'm a wizard with a pair of scissors."

Sabrina rolled her eyes
again. "And I'm sure when my hairdresser gets a look at your handiwork she'll probably faint on the spot."

He held
his right hand across his chest. "Because I'm a guy you think I can't cut hair?"

The amusement in his tone didn
't surprise her. It was the reaction running deep into her bones that made her body sit up and take notice. Somehow, and for some reason, this guy was different. And the only reason she had for that didn't sit well with her.

Not at all.

*  *  *

With night closing in, most of the shops were closing or getting ready to by the time they walked into town. While Sabrina waited outside with an Uzi tucked in the duffle bag and his baseball hat covering her hair, he went inside the grocery store to get some water, food, hair dye, shampoo, and scissors.

He came out a few minutes later.
"Let's find a spot where we can take care of this before we look for a place to eat."

They walked into the wooded area where he applied the hair dye
and then rinsed it out with the water he purchased.

He snapped the scissors
. "Allow Monsieur Kane to give you a fabulous cut."

S
he couldn't help but laugh, even though the sight before her was ominous. Trusting this man with her life was one thing, but her hair? "This does not seem to be a good idea."

"
You're chicken."

"
For good reason. You don't look as if you'd be good at this. In fact, you pretty much look all thumbs."

"
Once again you insult me." He spoke with an exaggerated French accent and motioned with his hand. "I'll do such a great job you'll want me to cut your hair all the time. I guarantee it."

Without a mirror, she couldn
't do this herself. "Oh, this is going to be ugly." She brought her head down and acquiesced.

Bringing a comb through her hair
, he brought the scissors near the nape of her neck and snipped. She cringed. But that was only the beginning. It was an excruciating twenty minutes before he finished.

Hair touched the base of her neck, tickling her nape. Bringing her fingers through the waves and curls
, she couldn't help but mourn the loss.

"
Beautiful," he remarked.

"
You have to say that. Otherwise I might take a knife to you," she grumbled.

"
Don't think I wasn't feeling the pressure."

"
Wait until I see a mirror, then I'll decide." She huffed out a breath, and drew her fingers through her hair once again. "Let's go back into town. We have to get the motorcycle. Which reminds me, how exactly are we going to do that?"

"
A friend of mine from the Bureau is trying to hook us up, but nothing's guaranteed."

"
I need to borrow your phone to text my brothers and let them know what I've been doing. No doubt they've tried to contact me and are worried sick."

"
Max and Jake?"

"
Been doing a little research?"

"
Pays to know who I'm partnering up with." He graced her with a smile.

"
Don't get too cocky. I'm always a hair's breadth away from ditching you." When he handed her the phone, she texted,
I'm fine. But this is an FBI guy's phone so don't text back. I'll fill you in on what's been going soon. Saby.

Her stomach rumbled. Lunch this afternoon was a long time ago. Fresh clothes and a warm bath were a distant memory.

"I searched the internet for hostels, but we'd have to walk about ten miles, so we might be stuck in town and hope for the best."

"
It goes without saying I have no money, so anything more than free is too rich for my blood."

"
I've a couple hundred euros so that should cover us for dinner and maybe a night at a small inn if we're lucky." He grabbed her hand. "There's a place down the road. I thought we'd head there for a little food."

"
Now you're talking. I'm starving. I could go for a beer and some stew." As tempting as it might be, remembering the consequences last time she picked somebody's pocket shifted her to a scared-straight mentality.

She had no desire to repeat the fiasco from earlier in the day. Besides, she didn
't have the energy.

They walked inside the small, dark tavern. Only a few people sat at wooden tables, some choosing to sit along the bar. To her relief, none of them paid any attention. She headed straight for the bathroom to check out her hair while he secured them a spot.

A few moments later, she met him at the bar and peered into the mirror along the back, confirming what she'd already seen in the bathroom. It was her, yet it wasn't. Her fingers twisted in the hair at her nape, while her breath hitched in her throat.

"
What do you think?"

"
Weird. I've never had short hair before. It's going to take some getting used to." Fleeting memories of her mother's long, dark hair shot through her mind. Most times she kept those thoughts at bay, but her mother's effervescent smile flashed before her even while a kind of controlled fear tunneled through. What had happened the night her parents died? Snippets of memories seemed to float around her brain, but they never coalesced into anything she could make sense of.

"
More importantly, it will take people a lot longer to match you up with your picture."

His response interrupted the trajectory of her thoughts. Getting caught up in something that might never produce any answers wasn
't on her agenda right now.

When their stew and ale arrived, they both dug in. Too famished to stop for even a second, they were finished before he spoke again.
"What's your story? I know you were born in Serbia, but how you got to the US is sort of a mystery."

"
And here I thought the FBI knew everything." She avoided his question with a sip of ale. The brew slid down her throat, quenching a thirst she hadn't felt in a long time. Being in Europe did strange things to her; memories—both good and bad—tugged with every step she took. "All I'm interested in right now is how fast we can get back to Marco's place and find out where he sent Caitlyn."

"
They're expecting us to run the opposite way, but we're heading straight for him. Is tomorrow soon enough?"  When she nodded, he continued, "First we need a good night's sleep and to secure the motorcycle."

"Right about now I could lie down in the middle of the floor and fall fast asleep, I'm afraid."

"
You're still coming off those drugs that Marco gave you." He shook his head and she couldn't help but wonder what he was thinking.

"
Does he have a chemist in residence or something?"

"
Not him personally, but Trinity does and sends Marco concoctions to produce different effects, from an aphrodisiac to excruciatingly painful to euphoric. The whole thing is beyond sick."

If they continued to discuss the inner workings of the organization, she
'd never get to sleep tonight. Instead, she chugged the last of her ale and changed gears in their conversation. "Any idea where we can bunk for the night?"

"
I checked with the bartender while you were in the bathroom, and they have a room above the bar. Sound okay to you?" He stood and helped her out of the chair.

She nodded as exhaustion pressed down on her shoulders, permeating every muscle of her body. The bartender escorted them through the kitchen and up the back steps to a room at the end of the hall. After Kane gave him money, he unlocked the door and walked away without another word.

The modest room had a small bed, a table with a lamp, and a bathroom outside the door. She'd stayed in worse places in her life. But, being in such close proximity to somebody, she hadn't decided whether trust was an issue.

Still,
in some ways, she felt that she knew Kane better than most other men, aside from her brothers. Which was odd, since she'd known him for only a couple of days.

"
Small bed, huh?" He glanced at her and grimaced. "I'd let you take the bed and I'd sleep on the floor, but I don't think there's enough room."

She
plopped onto the bed and slipped off her shoes. "As long as you keep your hands to yourself, I'll be fine."

"
Never let it be said that I don't know how to show a lady a great time." He placed her bag and his on the floor and took off his shoes.