Page 114 of Beneficial Misfortune

Dragging Trevor with me, I take him into the closest bathroom, away from Addison’s gaze and the cameras. We might be able to cover our tracks, but it’s always easier if we don’t have to, and it means more fun.

My phone vibrates in my pocket, but I can’t answer it—not right now. Every second counts.

The second the door closes behind me, I drop my hold on his shirt before swiftly pulling back and decking him.

Somehow, I’d thought he would put up more of a fight, but with one hit, he goes down like a sack of bricks, out cold.

I guess it’s for the best; I don’t have time to waste on him, not when Kat is still missing. I leave the bathroom and take a second to look around for a way to ensure the asshole stays put. I’d like to think he’s going to stay out, but I don’t want to risk him getting away should he come to before I can come back for him.

The bathroom has a lock, but I don’t know who has the key, and I don’t want to waste time looking for it. No, I have a better idea.

Not far from the restrooms is a vending machine full of drinks that should do nicely.

I move quickly, pushing it so that it stands in front of the bathroom door, acting as a barricade. With him handled, I take off toward the closest exit, which just so happens to be the front door. I’d like to assume that if Carter took her, he would useanother exit, but I also don’t think he’s as smart as he seems to think he is, so maybe not.

The doors slide open, and I have to fight the urge to push them when it feels too slow. I know it only takes a moment, but every second is another too long when Carter could very well be taking off with Kat, and I get the feeling she didn’t go so willingly.

Outside the door, I stop at the top of the steps, taking a moment to survey the lot. There are a lot of cars here and even more in the parking structure not far from here. Hell, there’s parking all over the place. As much as I might want to run around looking for her, this is a damn good vantage point.

A scream catches my attention; it’s raw and full of fear, and I’m positive it’s Kat. I can’t see her from here, but it sounds like she might be on the side of the lot just to the left of the building, which is just out of sight.

Hopping down more of the stairs than I touch, I make it to the bottom faster than should be possible before taking off around the building while pulling my gun from the back of my pants.

Am I supposed to bring my gun to places like this? No, not really. Does that stop me? Also no. The only way I leave it behind is if the building has security that checks, and even then, some allow it based on my client.

Oftentimes, if you conduct yourself as if you’re not breaking the rules, people believe that. I’ve had years to learn how to blend. So well that even I sometimes believe it.

The second I round the corner, I see her, along with her asshole ex, who should have left well enough alone. We warned him, tried to give him a chance to stay away, but clearly that was a mistake, one I assure you we won’t be making again.

Kat’s putting up a good fight, screaming and shouting as she fights against his attempts to shove her into the back of an all-blacked-out SUV, and I push myself harder. They're about one hundred yards away, but I know she can’t keep this up forever;she’s small, and I’d bet it’s only by sheer stubborn will that he hasn’t overpowered her already.

Just a few more seconds, Little Beauty, I’m coming!

I’d love nothing more than to tackle the motherfucker or, honestly, just put a bullet through his skull, but he’s too close to her. They’re damn near wrapped around each other as they struggle. Her to get away and him to put her in the car.

No, I’m here now, and that’s what matters.

He’ll get his later. I’ll make sure of it.

Lifting my gun, I press the barrel hard against the back of his skull as I click off the safety.

I guess he has some brains because he freezes.

“Let her go, and maybe I won’t blow your brains out.” It’s a lie, though, or it kind of is. It doesn’t have to be now, and I don’t need to shoot him exactly, but he will suffer. He doesn’t need to know that, though. If he did, I doubt he would cooperate so beautifully as he is right now as he slowly lifts his hands into the air and turns around.

“There’s really no need for this. Isn’t that right, Katie?” Carter asks, and I can hear the demand in his tone. As if he really expects her to back him up after what he just put her through. With a growl, I slam my gun into his forehead and huff a laugh when he cringes away from me.

Good.

This spoiled little fuck needs to be knocked down a few pegs and given a taste of his own medicine, and I’m more than happy to give it to him.

Kat scrambles away toward the rear of the car and away from the door the second Carter releases her. I let her go, knowing she needs a moment and that me touching her or saying anything might just make her panic more. I’m not known to be comforting.

Yet when I look at her, I can see the relief that shines in her eyes, just like it had the day I got between her and Trevor. I’d never cared to be the hero, happy to do whatever my job demanded of me, but I’ll be damned if she doesn’t make me crave that look.

I take her in, checking her over to find tears tracking down her face, blood dripping from her split lip, and what looks like the beginnings of a nasty bruise forming on her right cheek.

Would it make her feel better if I shot him right here? Or would that be more traumatic for her?

---