The Elite: The Complete Series of Boomer and Player (With Bonus) (63 page)

“Or what, O’Keefe? My lawyer told me I can’t be held liable for Rick’s business, so short of getting an old buddy of mine in trouble—you have no power over me. So, I suggest you take your contract and your fancy ass car and your massive pile of bullshit and get the fuck out of Holiday Cove.”

Giovanni remained seated, but his eyes rolled to O’Keefe, again, reminding me of a dog, waiting at his master’s feet, waiting for the command.

O’Keefe didn’t even flinch at my hard words. “What about your little nurse? You wouldn’t want her to end up like Talia…poor, innocent Talia. Trust me, Rosen, you don’t want another person to pay for your bad decisions.”

“You know, that’s the part I still haven’t figured out…” I tapped my index finger on my lips. “Did you
plan
for her to be there that night? I mean, how could you? When you sent your goons in to fuck with the fuel lines, how did you know that I’d be taking her up and that she’d suffer the consequences?”

Without a break in my mock puzzlement, my gut clenched. I’d baited the hook, now it was time to see if he’d bite…

O’Keefe grinned and released a low, rumbling chuckle. “You flatter me, Rosen.” He turned to Giovanni and they shared a ghoulish smile. “No, I didn’t know that my dear little sparrow would get caught up in the plot, that’s what we call a happy accident. Saved me the trouble of putting her down myself.”

“So, she was right? You were going to have her killed?”

O’Keefe shrugged. “She was a loose end, Rosen. But…she also gave incredible head…” he chuckled. “Not that I need to tell you that. You had the pleasure of experiencing it first hand, I’m sure…”

My stomach turned at his cruel smile and the way he so flippantly talked about killing another human being—especially someone who had once been his lover. Had he ever had feelings for her? Or had she been nothing but a pawn in his game since the day she had the misfortune of meeting him.

I tossed the questions aside, channeling my focus into finishing the mission.

“It doesn’t really matter now, Rosen. The plane was supposed to go down, you were in it, and while you’re not dead—your business is now in shambles, and your only solution is to sell it to me. Which, all things considered, means that my plan worked.”

“You’re not getting my business, O’Keefe,” I snarled.

He flicked his wrist at Giovanni and he heaved up out of the chair. He reached behind him and pulled a hunting knife from some holder on his belt. “It sounds like we need to do a little…convincing…” O’Keefe said.

“Luckily, this shit hole is abandoned. Set to be condemned. Guess who holds the deed, my dear, Aaron?” He flashed what he probably thought was a sinister grin. In reality, all he was doing was pissing me of more.

“Hank.” I stepped a foot toward him but stopped when I saw his thug step toward me, I had to keep my cool. “Can I call you that? I don’t give a flying fuck who owns the deed to this shithole. Haven’t you learned, you don’t scare me?”

He nodded to Giovanni who took a step forward, “There’ll be no one around to hear you scream. Giovanni, do try to keep blood from getting everywhere, I didn’t think to bring a second copy…I made the mistake of thinking Mr. Rosen would be…
reasonable
.”

He made a tut-tut sound under his breath and Giovanni nodded his consent before taking a step towards me.

Montgomery’s code phrase was ringing in my head, each echo louder and louder as I stared, transfixed on the gleam of the soft light off the tip of the knife in Giovanni’s hand.

I threw the code phrase—and my promise to Gemma that I wouldn’t do anything stupid—right out the fucking window.

“Before we get started, Hank, there’s one other thing I should probably tell you,” I taunted. My good hand reached for the hem of my shirt. Alarm bells rang inside my head, screaming at me to back down, abort the mission I’d become set on, but my rage and fury spurred me on. The faces of Talia and Gemma flooded my mind’s eye and overrode any logic I may have had.

O’Keefe’s lips peeled back from his teeth in a wolf-life grin. “Oh really? What’s that, Rosen?”

I jerked up my shirt and revealed the black wires running up the ridged planes of my stomach that wound together into a small black box that was recording everything we’d said since I walked into the dingy hotel room.

Chapter Eleven

“Fuck,” Giovanni cursed under his breath, and hung mid step, looking back at O’Keefe. “I told you we should have searched him.”

O’Keefe flung a hand up to silence his goon. “Do you really think that concerns me Rosen? I’m going to kill you.,” O’Keefe growled, his eyes flashing with danger once he connected the dots and came to the sickening conclusion that he’d just been played.

“You’re not very fucking smart, are you, Hank? You’re just racking up charges, talking out of your ass. Now you’re threatening me on the record? You are a stupid fuck.” I grinned at him but it didn’t reach my eyes. They were locked on his, shooting fire at him from five paces across the room.

“You’re alone Rosen, and I’ll make sure that whatever is left of your wire is thrown into the river along with whatever is left of your body…”

Giovanni’s heavy brow lifted in surprise, or maybe it was panic, and as my eyes darted, O’Keefe lunged for me. He hit my bad side and the room spun. Somehow, he’d known exactly where to hit, and blood oozed down my side, the stitches in my side no match for the brute force of his blow.

I knew the FBI would be knocking down the door at any moment, they were parked in a surveillance van around the corner, but I had to make sure I stayed alive until they got there.

Which, would be a helluva lot easier to do if I was conscious.

O’Keefe’s fist got in another blow, this time inches beneath my wound, and the vibrations ripped through me, stealing my breath. I blocked his third attempt, grabbed his wrist, and with a quick jerk, locked his arm behind his back and pushed him between Giovanni and me, using him as a buffer.

“Tell him to drop the knife, Hank.” I roared into his ear.

“Or what? You’re an unarmed man.” O’Keefe sneered.

Giovanni lunged, and at the last second, I careened left, letting O’Keefe take the point of the knife. It sliced through his bicep and O’Keefe howled. “You fucking idiot!”

Giovanni’s face registered horror as he realized he’d gashed his boss. “Tell him to drop it. It’s over, O’Keefe. FBI are gonna bust through that door within the next minute. You’re done.”

“Okay, okay,” O’Keefe hissed. I held his arm tight behind him. His elbow was bent at an awkward angle, and I kept just enough pressure to make sure he knew I was flirting with the idea of breaking it.

If left to my own devices, there was a lot more I wanted to do.

“Drop the knife Gio,” he said, jerking his chin towards the table. Giovanni obeyed the order. “There. Now let me go, Rosen.”

I laughed in his ear. “Not a chance, Hank. I’m going to personally hand your sorry ass over to the feds. I just hope they have a hole deep and dark enough to accommodate you.”

Somehow, I doubted it.

The motel room door flew open, pulling me from the revenge fantasy I’d been constructing in my head. We all jerked to attention. “Freeze! FBI!”

I nudged my chin in Giovanni’s direction. “Come on. Tiny, step away from the knife!” Said one agent. He cut a look to O’Keefe and then backed off. “Time’s up.”

My body gave me a sharp reminder of the re-opened gash in my side and pain radiated from the wound so strongly that I couldn’t breathe for a moment. “Fuck,” I gasped, catching my first full breath. I dropped my attention from the agents to look down at my side, and used my casted hand to snag the edge of my jacket. I peeled it away and saw the dark red seeping through my thin t-shirt.

Gemma was gonna kill me…

I sucked in another full breath and shoved O’Keefe as forcefully as I could. I didn’t want him to see my weakness.

In the split second that I was off balance, he reared his elbow back and hit me with his full force. Stars burst behind my eyes and I doubled over, unable to suck in a breath. The door opened and raised voices shouted as the agents entered the fray. I couldn’t look up, my eyes remained closed, as I put all my effort into getting another gasp of air. It was like my lungs had ruptured and were no longer capable of drawing oxygen into my body.

“Rosen, get down!”

The panicked voice rose through the madness and my eyes popped open. I looked up just in time to see O’Keefe cocking a pistol—before I could get out a word, or make a move, the sounds of gunfire blasted through the room. And I hit the floor.

Before I could figure out where the pain was coming from, my eyes slammed closed, and the voices and chaos faded to black nothingness.

Chapter Twelve

“Aaron? Aaron come on. Open your eyes…please baby…please…”

Gemma was calling for me. I wanted to see her face. But I was surrounded by darkness. Lost. Alone. I tried to force my eyes open, but they were too heavy. I tried to move my hands, to open my mouth, to smile, but I couldn’t tell if any of it made a difference.

“No…nothing’s changed,” it was Gemma again, her tone dejected and sad. “I’ll come back later to check on him.”

Her voice faded and I was left alone in silence.

I’m here, Gemma. Come back!

“Gemma, come back...”

Yes, yes, it was working!

“What?”

“Did you—he moved! I saw it!”

“He did?” Gemma’s voice sailed into hopefulness.

I needed to figure out how to move again. I channeled all of my energy into replicating whatever I had done moments before, but I couldn’t feel anything.
Please, wake up. Open. Your. Fucking. Eyes.

“There! He did it again! Get Dr. Ryan,” Gemma directed, her tone shifting back to business.

Light cracked through my skull, the intensity tore through me, and it felt like my head would explode, but I pressed on. I had to see her. I had to show her that I was going to be okay.

God, I’d been so selfish. I cringed against the flood of thoughts filling my head as all the pieces of the standoff came back to me. Each fragment was a screaming reminder of how idiotic I’d been. I’d let my temper and rage take over and I’d very nearly paid the ultimate price for it.

And for what? My pride? To prove some point?

“Aaron? Can you hear me?”

I forced my eyes open another sliver, pushing beyond the pain of the bright lights. The only thing that mattered was Gemma. Seeing her face.

“Oh my gosh…” She came into focus just as she lifted a hand to cover her mouth. My eyes found hers and my heart twisted at the sight of tears streaming past her lashes and over her cheeks. “Aaron. Baby.”

I drank her in, letting the sight of her soothe away the pain from the near blinding light. After a few moments, my eyes adjusted and I slowly took in the rest of my surroundings. I was very clearly in the hospital again. The all-too-familiar beeps of the monitors pounded just above my head. Gemma was wearing a black sweatshirt that fell off one shoulder and her hair hung around her face. Her eyes were red and streaked with black smudges.
No baby, don’t cry. I’m here. I’m okay.

“We’ve got to—” I paused, my throat dry and scratchy. I swallowed hard before continuing. “We’ve got to stop meeting like this.”

Gemma laughed, the sound more like a relieved sigh. “I couldn’t agree more. Although, it is convenient for me, no commute to visit after my shift…”

I wanted to smile, to laugh, but I wasn’t sure it all worked. I was disoriented from my body, feeling more like a floating head.

“How long?”

“Six days,” she said, her voice small.

Six days…
I marveled at the piece of information.

“My God.”

Gemma nodded and licked her lips nervously. “We weren’t sure…it was dicey for a while there…” a sob cut off the rest of whatever she’d been about to say, and I’d never needed to hold her more.

“What happened?” I tested my fingers again, and though I couldn’t see them, they felt like they moved. Gemma looked down and smiled at my hand. She wrapped her fingers around mine before bringing her attention back to my question.

“We can talk about everything later. Right now you need your rest. Dr. Ryan will be here shortly to check on you.”

I wanted to argue with her, to demand that she tell me everything, but before I could, a wave of confusion and exhaustion came over me and everything went hazy again.

* * * *

I had no way of knowing how much time had passed before I woke up again. This time, I was more coherent, but the room was empty—or at least appeared to be. The lights were dim and it took less effort to adjust my eyes. My body also felt lighter, more mobile, and within a few minutes, I managed to work my hand over to the control panel and raised the bed.

I smiled at the crumpled form curled up in a reclining chair in the corner. “Gemma,” I breathed, wishing I could raise my voice loud enough to get her attention. “Gemma?”

When it was obvious that her sleep was too deep to be disturbed, I laid my head back against the pillows and stared up at the ceiling. I’d gathered bits and pieces of information from the last time I’d roused. I’d busted out my stitches and lost too much blood. I’d had emergency surgery to repair my wounds and had been kept under an induced coma to let my body stabilize.

The story was…I was a hot mess.

Luckily, being in a coma helped me heal and I was on the mend, although I had no idea when I would be released or when I could even dare to think about returning to a normal life.

Whatever was left of it.

I hadn’t been able to ask Gemma the list of questions that grew by the minute in my mind. I was pouring through them, cataloging them one by one so as not to forget anything, when a nurse came into the room, doing her normal rounds, but Gemma slept straight through.

“Poor thing,” the nurse commented, glancing at her in the chair, after she’d checked all the monitors and asked how I was feeling.

“How long has she been sleeping there?” I asked.

The nurse smiled down at me. “She’s been there every night since you got here.”