Page 55 of Rivals & Revenge

"Good catch," he said, offering me one of his panty-melting smiles.

My body reacted immediately to his praise. My skin heated and a thousand butterflies took flight, the beats of their tiny wings filling my chest like bubbles in a champagne bottle.

His large hands folded around mine, a visual reminder of how much bigger he was than me.

As we approached the dilapidated house, Ahren pulled his gun, his eyes meeting mine with a silent command to do the same. We moved quickly, sweeping from room to room, but in the end, the house was abandoned.

We cleared four more houses in the next thirty minutes, both painfully aware of the clock ticking away the grains in Connor's hourglass. With each house, his eyes hardened, darkening with malicious intent, and I couldn't blame him. Whoever set this in motion wasplaying with us like a cat toy—watching us jump, just for their amusement.

"Ok." I started, trying to lighten the mood, at least just a little. "You can shoot first. But if you miss, I get second dibs."

A sinister smile snaked across his mouth, twisting his lips cruelly. "Fine. Just so you know, I never miss."

With that, things seemed to settle. His dark mood sated—if just for the moment.

We walked up to the next house, weapons drawn. "You go first, big guy." I quipped, slapping him on the back playfully.

"My pleasure." He smirked.

These houses seemed to share the same basic layout. So this time, instead of clearing the house room by room, we headed straight for the kitchen and the basement stairs.

A determined fire passed between us as our eyes met. He nodded swiftly, his arms crossed at the wrist, a pistol in one hand and a flashlight in the other. I pulled the door open, stepping backward away from the opening.

Despite his large frame, he descended the stairs in complete silence.

"She's here!" He called out from the darkness below, just as an incandescent bulb flickered on, revealing Larissa's battered frame tied to a rusted metal chair.

I shoved my hand into his pocket, pulling out his truck keys. Popping up on my toes, I pressed my lips to his. “I'll bring the truck. You focus on getting her out.”

He nodded, kneeling and slicing through the ropes that bound her with a reverent tenderness.

A slow smile spread across my face. He may want to act as if he was a heartless bastard, but the way he cared for Larissa said otherwise. Hell,he saved Henri. Saved me! I had a feeling that despite his claims to the contrary, Ahren Rossdale was the hero masquerading as the villain.

Chapter 31

AHREN

I cursed under my breath as I sliced through the ropes, barely managing to catch Connor's limp form as the restraints fell away, releasing her.

An irritating slow clap rang out behind me.

I reached for the flashlight I discarded on the floor, sweeping the room and again, finding it empty.

"Bravo." a disembodied voice rang out. "I was beginning to think you didn't care about the doc."

"What the fuck do you want? Fucking coward." I growled.

"Coward? No. No.—No, we still have games to play. Killing you now would end the fun before we get started."

"Who are you?"

"I expected more from the great Ahren Rossdale. Billionaire assassin extraordinaire." She cooed, like she was talking to a toddler.

Her voice sent a shiver down my spine, mostly from disgust, but there was a hint of familiarity. Something in the deep recesses of my mind. Something I hadn't bothered to remember.

She sighed for dramatic effect. "I put together an elaborate game and you respond with boring, pedestrian questions. Who are you? What do you want?"

"It's like you're not even trying." She clicked her tongue.

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