“Then I think you and I will be able to work out a deal.”
Her heart stuttered in her chest.
“Keep driving, Zoe,” he told her. “Everything is going to be all right.”
Was she really supposed to believe those words?
***
Lauren Ward didn’t want to screw up her first assignment. She’d busted ass to join the FBI, and the last thing she wanted to do was start off her Bureau career with a screw up but…
Her hand tightened on her gun. “The guy isn’t here.”
She and her partner, Russell Aiker, had made it to the location Victor had given them—they’d gotten there in near-record time. When they’d arrived, the truck had been exactly where Victor had said but…
No driver. The shooter—he’s gone. She glanced up at the dark line of trees. “You think he headed out on foot?”
Russell was at the back of the truck. “No. I think the guy just took a back-up ride and hauled ass.” He shone his flashlight down at the ground—and there, in the dirt, was the clear impression of a wheel. “Motorcycle,” he said, his voice flat. “Probably had it in the back of his truck. This guy was definitely planning ahead. If one ride was disabled, he wanted to be ready to continue his pursuit.”
Lauren swallowed. “He sounds—”
“Professional. Yeah, all the guys after Zoe are.” He had his phone out. “Better call Victor. The guy is going to be pissed.”
Lauren bit her lower lip. Having Victor Monroe pissed was not the way she’d wanted to start the job.
“And…just so you’re aware…when you meet Zoe Peters, it’s a good idea to handle the woman with kid gloves. Even if she does manage to piss you off.” He laughed roughly. “’Cause it will happen.”
She blinked. “Why the kid gloves?”
“Let’s just say Victor doesn’t like it when Zoe gets upset.”
“But—”
“You upset Zoe, and you will find your ass reassigned. Hell, how do you think you got this gig in the first place?”
She’d had no clue.
“Kid. Gloves.” He put the phone to his ear. “Vic? Yeah, we’re out here but…no, you aren’t going to be happy…”
***
Kyle watched the agents as they searched his truck. He had his night vision goggles on, so he could monitor them. They were standing by his abandoned truck. Just out there, no cover at all. If he’d wanted, he could have taken them both out.
But their deaths wouldn’t have helped him. He also wasn’t getting paid to off them so…why bother?
He’d taken out his motorcycle. Left a path that made it look as if he’d driven back to the road. Then he’d stayed near the tree line. Gotten cover. He’d wanted to wait and see what the clean-up team looked like.
He’d also wanted to use that team.
Because sooner or later…those two out there would lead him to Victor Monroe. Kyle knew that with certainty. And as he’d already learned that night…
If Victor is around, then Zoe has to be close by. The rumors he’d heard about those two had to be true. And the words he’d just heard the FBI agent say—damn, didn’t that guy realize sound carried at night?—they just backed up what he’d already suspected.
Victor Monroe had a personal involvement in Zoe’s case. That was why she was such a priority for him. Kyle knew exactly what Zoe looked like, so it wasn’t a big surprise to him that Victor was screwing her.
She was hot.
But she wasn’t a woman worth dying for. Victor should learn that shit, before it was too late.
Chapter Three
As far as motel rooms went…Victor knew the place they were in pretty much counted as a dump. Definitely the no-tell-motel variety. The bed was sagging, the desk was scarred and wobbly, the door to the bathroom wouldn’t close completely, and the carpet was thread-bare.
A dump.
But…at least the dump had a clean bed. He’d made sure of that. Victor had paid extra for fresh bedding because he hadn’t wanted Zoe sleeping on someone else’s dirt. He’d wanted to make the best of the place for her.
He was always wanting to make things better for Zoe. A weakness, an issue that he had. But there was just something about the woman that got to him.
Maybe it was her eyes. The first time he’d looked into them, he’d almost thought he’d lost part of his soul. But then he’d remembered…he’d given up his soul long ago. He cleared his throat. “Sorry about…this.”
Zoe gave a faint laugh as she glanced over at him. “Don’t worry, Special Agent. I wasn’t expecting the Ritz.” She dropped the massive coat she’d been carrying around. “I’ve stayed in worse rooms. Better ones, too, but definitely worse.” She sat on the edge of the bed. It gave a long, low groan, and her eyebrows shot up.
He didn’t want her staying in that place—he would have fucking loved to put her up at the Ritz, but they were in the middle of freaking nowhere, and their options for a safe place to crash were severely limited. No questions were asked at this motel, and he’d been given the room on the far end—the most private one. One that also provided him with a view of anyone who might try to come his way.
A safe enough place, for the night. They’d been signed in under fake names, a married couple. And the motel sign-in log had been full of other fake names.
Celebrities. Dead presidents. Plenty of interesting names had been on that list at the front desk.
“So I heard you talking to your FBI buddies,” Zoe murmured. “He got away, huh?” She wasn’t laughing now and her gaze held fear.
He hated her fear, and he hated having to say, “Yeah, he was gone.”
She nodded. “So I guess he’s still on the hunt.”
He was…and other hitmen were out there, too. “The bounty on your head just keeps rising.”
Zoe glanced away from him. Her stare went to the little TV that was on a stand near the foot of the bed. Judging by the look of it, Victor figured that TV hadn’t worked in years.
“So many people hate Luther,” Zoe mused. “And they never seem to think…I hate him, too. I want him to pay, too. It’s not like Luther Bates will win the award for Father of the Year.” Her eyes closed. “Everyone knows he was a monster. So what the hell do people think he was like when I was a kid?”
He’d been curious about her life with Luther, but she hadn’t told Victor jackshit before. He leaned against the wall, crossed his arms over his chest, and wondered if this was the turning point for them. Was she finally lowering the wall she’d kept up? Finally trusting him?
“At first, when I was younger, I wondered why he hadn’t married my mom.” Her eyes opened and she turned her head, meeting his gaze. “That’s what a five-year-old wonders, you see. Why don’t mom and dad live together? Is something wrong?”
He waited, silent.
“When I was ten, when I barely saw him at all, I thought…we’re h
is dirty little secret. He’s ashamed of me. Of my mom. So he keeps us away from everyone else. He doesn’t take us out to dinners or on trips. He doesn’t come to my school to see my plays because he’s embarrassed. I’ve embarrassed him. I’m a disappointment. That’s what a ten year old thinks.” Her lips curved down as sadness chased over her face.
You aren’t a disappointment. You could never be a disappointment.
“Then, when I was fifteen…I saw his face on the news. I wondered…why is my dad on the news? And then…then I heard what the reporter was saying. That he was a criminal. A killer. That he was some kind of suspected mob boss. My mom was in the room with me, watching the news, and she was crying. That was when I knew…”
When her voice trailed off and Zoe didn’t continue, Victor waited a moment, then pushed, “When you knew what?”
“That my father was a monster. My mother was always so careful around him because she was terrified of him. And he kept us hidden because…” Now her laughter came once more. Sad. Painful. “Because he knew we would be targets. He knew people would hurt us in order to get to him. That’s what his world was, you see. The an-eye-for-an-eye mentality ruled there. Survival of the fittest dominated. Good and evil—those concepts didn’t matter at all.”
“You confronted your father. About what he…was.” This was the part he needed. He had to learn what secrets Zoe had been keeping. And he suspected there were plenty of secrets.
“Of course, I confronted him. When you’re fifteen, you think you can change the world.” Her smile stretched. “You think that maybe you can still get the happy life you always dreamed of. You think you can change the monster.”
Nothing will change Luther Bates. Victor had spent too many hours staring into that man’s cold, dead eyes. Luther was evil. Pure and fucking simple. Luther had ordered the deaths of so many people…and never even hesitated. “What happened?”
She pushed off the bed, rising to her feet. “Oh, the usual. My crime boss father instantly became good and charming. Everything that a girl could wish her father to be.” Zoe hurried toward the bathroom. “I need to shower.”