Page 17 of War Games

I shake my head. This woman needs to find a healthy respect for vehicles.

Keeping my distance, I make a quick assessment of the villa. There are four motion sensors surrounding the small building with an additional six surveillance cameras. She’s not taking any chances, and while she hasn’t left a single blind spot, getting in and out won’t be an issue for me.

Lights flicker on inside, and I quickly look up the resort website before finding the images of their villas and making an educated guess on the layout of the property. She’s in the bedroom, probably stripping out of her tight black jeans and kicking off her combat boots before picking out something skimpy to sleep in. Then she’ll take her hair out, letting it fall in thick strands down her back . . . and fuck. I’m hard again.

The fuck is wrong with me?

I stand outside her villa for well over an hour, trying to familiarize myself with her routine, and when the lights turn out, I have a decision to make. I can either go in, fuck her, and then end her life . . . or I can walk away. Only one of those choices appeals to me, so tell me why the fuck I’m turning on my heel and stalking away?

My time will come with Siren, but I’ve never been one to rush into shit like this. I need to learn more about her, figure out who she is and what drives her. I need to know her moves, how shestrikes, and what her limits are. There’s a reason she’s known as one of the best in the business, and I won’t make a move until I figure out exactly who I’m dealing with.

After making my way back to my car, I drive through the deserted streets of Blue Springs, and it quickly becomes apparent that after eight at night, the town’s people tuck themselves into bed and don’t emerge until business hours the following day. I’m sure Friday and Saturday nights will differ, but whether there are witnesses or not, it doesn’t change a thing for me. I’ll still be capable of doing everything I need to do during these games.

Pulling to a stop outside one of the only hotels in town, I pocket my keys before making my way inside, keeping my head down as I pass by one of the only cameras that actually work in the building. It isn’t exactly the most logical type of accommodation for a competition like War Games. It doesn’t boast easy escapes and there are more staff than actual guests, but for tonight, it will do. Though at some point, I need to find somewhere a little more . . . homey. Somewhere I don’t have to be quite so discreet.

Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy the benefits of room service with a whole staff at my beck and call, but I also prefer the privacy a real home can offer. Besides, it won’t be long before the hotel maids start ignoring theDo Not Disturbsign hanging on my door, and once that happens, people are going to start dropping like flies. I can’t risk people snooping through my room because the large array of weapons hidden beneath the bed will only bring questions I’m not willing to answer.

Making my way through the hotel lobby, I pass the bar and cast my gaze over the adjoining room. A few people linger in the bar, but for the most part, it’s dead. It’s late and I’m sure the bar staff are counting down the minutes until they get to close. I could really use a drink, but truth be told, I think I need a coldshower more. Siren has left me wound up, and I don’t fucking like it.

I live by a code. It’s me, myself, and I. Women aren’t a problem for me. I take what I want and leave. I have no family. No friends. Nobody to miss me. But for the first time in my life, I can’t seem to let go of the idea that I should keep Siren around. I’ve never cared to spare someone’s life before, and yet I’ve now walked away from her twice. That’s not in my nature, and it’s starting to fuck with my head. Perhaps it’s all just sexual, and after I take her, whatever is forcing me to have a moral compass will finally disappear.

Frustration burns through me, and as I continue past the hotel bar, someone at a private table catches my eye, pulling me up short.

Graves.

What are the fucking chances? Last I checked, he was staying in a rundown motel, and yet, here he is just waiting to be caught.

A grin pulls at the corner of my lips. This is going to be too fucking easy.

As if sensing my stare, Graves lifts his gaze, his brows furrowed until he spots me at the entrance. His back stiffens, and I watch the color drain from his face. He discreetly stands, not wanting to draw attention before walking further into the bar and slipping out the side exit, taking him deeper into the hotel and further away from any type of surveillance or witnesses.

Decisions. Decisions.

I could go after him, or I could walk away and let him be someone else’s problem.

Shit.

While I know tonight’s theme seems to bemissed opportunity, I can’t seem to let this one go, and unlike Siren, I don’t have the overwhelming need to fuck this guy. I watched him murder bothSlasher and Crimson Rain last night, and while I have absolutely no issues with how he went after Slasher, the way he so brutally beat Crimson Rain didn’t sit well with me. Don’t get me wrong, my morals would never be applauded, but when going after a woman, there’s a right way and a wrong way to do it, and Graves sure as fuck didn’t get that memo. He deserves to be brutally murdered, and I’m more than happy to give him exactly what he asked for.

Making the decision to go for it, I cut through the bar and slip out the same side exit that Graves just took, and despite knowing he would have broken into a sprint the second he left the bar, I take my time. There’s no need to rush. I’m a hunter by nature. Whether it takes a few seconds or all night, I’ll find him, and when I do, he better hope he’s made peace with his maker.

After escaping through the side exit of the bar, I step out into a different portion of the hotel lobby just in time to watch the elevator door close.

Fucking moron. How obvious could one person be?

Making my way toward the elevator, I keep my gaze locked on the numbers, telling me exactly where the elevator is stopping and when I see it pause at level three, I push through the door beside the elevator shaft, taking me up the stairs.

Now, would I have preferred to have an array of weapons with me for this? Sure. But are they necessary for me to get the job done? Fuck no. I’ve always prided myself on being a resourceful man, so I’m sure I’ll figure it out when the time comes.

Reaching level three, I push out into the main hallway and pause, listening to the sounds around me. There’s not a soul in sight, but Graves doesn’t strike me as a smart man, and just on cue, I hear a high-pitched woman’s scream tearing through the hallway.

Bingo.

Not a moment later, the woman is launched into the hallway with such force she stumbles right across the small walkway and slams into the door directly opposite her room before crumbling to the ground. I turn on my heel and begin stalking toward her, but she’s on her feet and sprinting toward me in her desperate flee to escape Graves.

“Which room?” I demand as she booms toward me, keeping my head down to avoid her seeing my face.

“309.”

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