Jacked Up (Bowen Boys #4) (33 page)

After a while she heard the door being unlocked and her breath caught. Showtime. Ears madly roaring, she counted while hearing the splashing sounds of steps in water, and then she let the electrical device drop into the tub, praying to all the gods she knew that the material the toilet seat was made from was not a conductor.

She closed her eyes tight and waited for what felt like an eternity before unplugging the iron. A burning smell reached her. Not a single sound was coming from the other room; the guards must have been down, and she had to hurry or the water would reach the stairs and start dripping, alerting somebody. Somebody she couldn’t electrocute again because the iron was broken and this kind of dumb luck only worked once in a lifetime.

Carefully she lowered one leg to the floor and dipped her toes into the water. No electric shock. Good. Hastily she fished the busted appliance from the tub, lifted her skirt the best she could, and exited the bathroom, stopping at the sight of the man sprawled on the floor, facing down. His broad frame wasn’t moving, but she kicked him for good measure. As he flinched and grunted, she realized he looked familiar. Dread started churning in her gut. She turned his face to her. Oh God, she’d electrocuted Jack.

Chapter Twenty

Jesus fucking Christ, Elle had fried him. He shook his head, trying to snap out of it and regain his bearings, but the lethargy didn’t go away. And he had James’s fretting voice asking for a status update in his ear.

“Found her,” he muttered. “Heading out.” Well, as soon as he could get his shit together and scramble to his feet.

“Oh God, Borg, are you okay?”

He wasn’t sure; he hadn’t been roasted before. “What the fuck were you doing?” he grumbled, struggling up.

“Rescuing myself, of course, like in
Shrek the Third
.”

“Shh… What?”

“You don’t know Shrek? Of course not,” she said rolling her eyes. “I was rescuing myself. What did you think, that I would be here lying around and waiting for someone to do it? You okay? Did I hurt you?”

He cursed. He was soaking wet too.

“Sorry for frying you. On the plus side, you won’t need to get a perm, ever.”

She wasn’t making a lick of sense. “What?”

“Kidding. What are you doing here?”

“What am I doing here? I came to get you.” Her look of disbelief said it all. “You thought I wouldn’t?”

“Last time we met you couldn’t wait to be rid of me so no, I wasn’t holding my breath for you to appear, not to mention you didn’t know where I was.” Then she frowned. “Wait. I’m wearing the dress from the fund-raiser. It’s bugged, isn’t it?” she asked sounding irate and happy at the same time.

“The purse was, but you dropped it at the bar.”

If she gave him any shit for the bug, he was going to gag her. She didn’t. She threw herself at him, hugging him so hard it almost hurt to breathe.

“You came for me,” she whispered, as if to herself.

“Haven’t you realized it yet, pet? I’d run into hell for you.”

“No, I hadn’t. You walked out on me and stayed away from the Bowens, after telling me off and all but insulting me.”

Stayed away from the Bowens? Right. That was an impossibility. Those assholes wouldn’t let him.

“I didn’t insult you. I said the sex was great.”

“Right, fantastic way to make me feel cheap when I was offering you my heart.” Her smile was all teeth. “Can’t convey in words how glad I am the sex was up to standards. You weren’t bad yourself. Your pillow talk is shitty, but we all know talking is not your forte.”

“We don’t have time to hash this out now, pet, but we will. As soon as we get out of here we’ll have a serious conversation.”

“Who says I’m interested now, Borg?” she muttered.

He grabbed her and pushed her against him, planting his lips on hers. “I say so. I’ll talk and you’ll listen. And we’ll figure this out. Now let’s go so you can scream at me properly.”

“The guards—”

“Down,” he said.

It had been easier than he’d thought to sneak in, busy as security had been with the distraction at the other end of the compound. Dropping the two thugs who had been posted at her door had been a piece of cake.

“I rigged two cars. If we run into trouble, I’ll detonate them and we’ll use the diversion to escape. James, Cole, and Max are outside, ready to cover us.” He hoped to God it wouldn’t come to that. Cole had been right; opening fire on the private property of a rich guy, with an army of ex-military at his disposal and an army of lawyers, was going to be a bitch.

“Jack, wait,” Elle said pulling at him. “Maldonado is alive. I forgot to tell you, with the excitement of frying you and all.”

“I saw the boat in the marina. Did he or Exxum hurt you?”

“Not yet.”

“Let’s keep it that way. Do you know how to shoot?” he asked, handing her a gun.

“Does it work like a paintball gun?”

“Basically.”

“Then we’re good.”

“Let’s go.”

He stuffed the guards into the room and locked them in. The hallway was deserted. So far so good.

“Where are we going?”

“Downstairs to the kitchen.” He’d gotten in through the service door. With a bit of luck they could take the same route without encountering resistance. “James, are we clear?” he whispered.

“Lots of movement on the first floor west side” came through the earpiece.

“Understood. Heading out.”

They made it to the first floor. Jack heard the guns being cocked a second before a voice said, “Look what the cat dragged in.”

Exxum’s security detail. Fuck.

There were eight men in front of them, guns at the ready.

“Drop your weapons,” one of Exxum’s men said. “Now! Hands where I can see them.”

Jack spoke calmly. “Do as they say, doll.”

The word “doll” did the trick, and Elle’s attention snapped away from them and centered on Jack. Good, he needed her on her toes.

He threw the gun to the floor and then lifted his hands, pushing his forearm against the wall, clicking on the detonator on his wrist. Their location was perfect; they were wall-to-wall with the cars parked up front.

She must have realized what he was doing right before the explosion blasted her mind and her senses, leaving her disoriented only for a second. With smoke and broken glass flying all over, Jack burst into action and started dropping guys. This he could do with his eyes closed. This was his comfort zone. That’s what he’d been doing all his life, only now he had someone with him whom he cared for more than he could say, so half his attention was on her.

In the middle of the mayhem a man grabbed her, but she managed to punch him in the throat, getting him to stagger back. That was his girl.

She never saw the guy coming from behind until he knocked her down. She seemed to shake it off, but by then one of the bastards was pointing a gun at her.

Jack lunged for her, knocking her on the floor as the sound of the shot rang in his ears and pain tore through him.

* * * *

“I knew you’d enjoy my present,” Exxum said, raising his glass.

Maldonado sat in the magnificent library, sipping a one-hundred-year-old whiskey with Exxum. He had more money than this entitled little brat and could afford hundreds of bottles of better whiskey yet they didn’t taste this good. There was something about old money. It bought respectability, never mind how corrupt and ruthless the methods of getting that wealth were. Him? He’d started as a smuggler, and regardless of his present status or possessions, all these high society types looked down on him. He could feel it. Scorn.

“I appreciate it.” He could have snatched the bitch by himself, but this little punk had to show him he could get to her first. Marking from the beginning who was the boss. This asshole had no clue whom he was dealing with. No clue whatsoever. Still, Maldonado was to benefit greatly from this business, so he could put up with moneybags for a while.

“Take some more,” Exxum encouraged, pointing at the tray with some weird-looking berries. “They come straight from Norway. One hundred percent organic. Handpicked. Best of the best. Great for relieving stress.”

Maldonado shook his head and sipped more of the whiskey.

The drink was good, unlike the food. Jesus, if he had to eat any more shit with a name he couldn’t pronounce and a taste he couldn’t decipher, he was going to shoot himself. Fucking seeds-munching, soy-pumping vegetarians. Vegans. Whatever the hell they were.

“Did you enjoy the meal? The black truffle seitan tasted like exquisite filet mignon. My cook is superb. I stole him from the most exclusive restaurant in Japan. He could make even a cleaning cloth taste like meat.”

So that was the name of that vile thing. Seitan. Fitting.

If it wouldn’t have been a huge slap in the face, Maldonado would have stayed on his boat to eat supper.

“Giving up meat is so rewarding,” Exxum continued. “Animal protein is very dangerous. Straight correlation to all sorts of cancer.”

Maldonado stifled a snort. Dangers of eating meat? Ha. Obviously this ass had no clue the shitstorm that a tiny olive could create. He could attest to that. His life had gone down the drain because of it.

“I don’t know. I prefer my meat bloody and coming from an animal.”

“It’ll grow on you,” Exxum assured him. “It’s an acquired taste. It takes a bit to get used to such exquisiteness.”

Maldonado drew in a calming breath. Some day he would show this snotty little brat who had exquisite taste, just not now. Now he needed his contacts. And more specifically his customs-cleared containers bringing Maldonado’s product into the US without risk of detection.

“Farming and ranching is so destructive for the planet. The number one reason for the decimation of the sea and the atmosphere. All the means of transport put together wouldn’t make it even close to the damage ranching causes. And the uncivilizedness of eating other animals is just barbaric. Unmoral.”

Blah, blah, blah. So much preaching was giving him indigestion. Or it was the seitan?

“Many would say we are the morally dubious ones. Worrying about animals and ignoring humans.”

Exxum scowled. “Animals are noble. Humans are an infestation, so as far as I’m concerned, providing the means to kill each other is just speeding the process of humanity’s self-destruction and saving the Earth a bit faster.”

An answer for everything. “Should we discuss numbers?” Maldonado asked, changing the subject. He had no desire to enter into a moral debate or spend more time than necessary with the likes of Exxum.

“If we must, then—”

A huge explosion drowned out the end of that sentence, the black sky outside lighting up with two blasts of fire, the sounds of gunshots following.

Nico dove for Maldonado, covering him, his gun drawn.

Exxum’s security chief did the same with his boss while everyone in the room drew their weapons, his men pointing at Exxum’s and the other way around.

“What is the meaning of this?” Maldonado asked. They already had that minor scare when some animal had tripped the motion detector a while back.

“I don’t know,” Exxum said. “It looks like we’re under attack. Order your men to lower their weapons.”

Right, like he was giving that order any time soon. “You said this location was secure.”

“Status,” Exxum’s security chief barked, communicating with someone through his earpiece. Then he turned to his boss. “We have visitors, sir.”

* * * *

Oh God, Jack was hurt. Badly hurt. Elle wasn’t sure if he’d been shot in his stomach or he’d punctured a lung or what. He was trying, but he couldn’t stand up straight, and he was bleeding profusely from his side.

“We are under heavy fire,” one of the armed guards said.

Only then did Elle realize what she was hearing was gunshots.

“How many are there outside?” the one that seemed in charge asked, smacking Jack.

Jack remained silent.

“Tell them to stand down,” he insisted, pointing the gun at him.

“Fuck off,” was Jack’s response.

“We need them alive. Boss says to bring them to him,” another said.

They were led into the library, where Joaquín Maldonado and David Exxum stood, surrounded by heavily armed guards. A blistering pain was splitting her skull from where she’d been hit, but she ignored it. She needed all her wits about her.

“How thoughtful of you to come by and save us the trouble of picking you up,” Exxum stated, and after frowning at Jack, he asked, looking around, “Who shot him?”

The man who had pulled the trigger took a step forward. “They resisted and—”

The gunshot deafened Elle, who watched the lifeless body of the guard slide on the floor.

“Shooting Mr. Ayala should have been my pleasure. Now, where were we?” He returned the gun to his bodyguard and addressed Jack. “I trust all this fuss outside is your doing, right?”

“I suggest you cut your losses and flee. Police are on the way,” Jack said.

Maldonado laughed. “Bullshit. You trust them less than we do. You would never leave your woman’s security in their hands. If you proved anything since you took her away from protective custody, it’s this. Alex Ayala is—was, I mean, ruthlessly efficient. This,” he said, pointing at her, “is a big fuckup, my friend.”

“You teaming up?” Jack asked, looking at Maldonado and then at Exxum.

“Exploring new business ventures,” Maldonado said.

“Did you neutralize the shooters?” Exxum asked one of his men.

“We are closing in on them, but the situation is not contained at the moment.”

With disgust written all over his face, Exxum turned to Jack. “All this for that little whore? You broke your cover for her? You should have known better. Not that I’m unhappy about it. I look forward to not having my shipments intercepted.” He punched Jack in the face. “You know how much your interference has cost me?”

“Your grievance is with me. You got me. Let her go,” Jack said as he spit blood. “She walks out of here and the attack stops. Nobody will retaliate. I guarantee it.”

“Sir, we need to leave,” Exxum’s security chief insisted. “The boat is ready. We have to get you to safety.”

“One would think having a compound and an army would do that. Dispose of them both,” Exxum said, gesturing at Jack and Elle. “I would have wanted to make this more enjoyable, and far longer, but now that you are dying, I don’t see the point.”