Page 68 of Sinful Crimes for the Artistically Inclined
“No—” Waleed began, crossing his arms and gripping his biceps tight in protest, before falling to the floor from the shot that grazed his thigh.
“It’s been fun.” Percy took the bag of money from the table and placed his gun inside, leaving aside a smaller pile of cash for Tareq and Waleed. “It was very nice to meet you both.” He walked to the door, stashed away the other three guns, zipped the bag up, threw it over his shoulder, and turned back with a smile. “Good luck with everything, and remember, if you do come after me, I will kill you on sight.”
They nodded, nursing their really quite inconsequential wounds, and Percy stepped elegantly over their fallen colleagues and made his way back to Joe and Althea.
CHAPTER THIRTY
CAR NOW
“Car. Now.”
Althea and Joe were up and following Percy down the fire escape on command. The three ran at full speed, one after the other, their feet hitting the stairs with a slapping echo against the walls, everything a blur of grey concrete, fluorescent lights and stale air until they reached the bottom and Percy flung wide the door to a back alley with a bang. A wave of nauseating heat hit their faces. Percy clicked a button, stepped forward and wrenched the door of a car open, cool breeze, new car smell and salvation within reach.
But Joe paused right there to throw furious eyes on Percy. “What did you do?”
Percy’s was a perfectly undignified, full-body protest of sagging shoulders and hunched spine, arms flying up. “You’re going to have to let me treat you to nice things sometimes!”
Althea slipped into the car as Joe motioned about the place angrily. “It’s supposed to be a getaway car, not an expensive-shopping-trip, fancy car! How much did this thing cost?”
“Fancy cars are fast cars,” Percy replied, loading the bagsand the sheath into the trunk. “I should have known you wouldn’t be a car person.”
“Oh, you’re a car person now?”
“No, I’m not a car person, but I know a fast one when I see one because they cost more. And they’re red. Get in.” He slammed the trunk closed, slammed the back door, and pulled open the front passenger door for Joe.
Joe reopened the back passenger door, positioning it between him and Percy. He quieted his voice, but still bore a disgruntled frown. “I don’t want Althea to feel lonely.”
Percy was halted, a surprise smile taking him over. Too sweet for words was Joe Bruno. The girl would be literally inches away from the pair of them even if he sat in the front, and the idea that having a hulking man like Joe leaning over her for six hours would calm Althea’s nerves in any way while they kidnapped her was near laughable. But then, Joe never seemed to realise or cultivate how dangerous he could so easily be, which offered a compelling perplexity to Percy.
Percy, since he was a small child, had to learn to kill or be killed. It was basic survival. He didn’t know much about Joe’s formative years, because it was a topic Joe was particularly cagey about, but he did know that a brave, intelligent, shockingly beautiful and scarily competent man had, at some crucial point in his youth, decided to hide himself away from most of life’s experiences, dedicating himself to the care of others. This basic incongruity kept Percy fascinated, kept his interest, well beyond his sexual attraction, which in itself was no small consideration.
In fact, by that time in their short relationship, Percy had wholeheartedly come to believe that Joe had the heart of a saint. But what he couldn’t decide, at times like this, was whether he wanted more to preserve that, or to slowly, deliciously, corrupt it.
Joe’s lips kept their slightly annoyed arch, but he hadaverted his eyes in what seemed to Percy a sort of resigned compliance. And Percy hated to see it. It was all Joe’s fire and intensity that Percy craved, so he reached a hand under Joe’s chin, half expecting him to pull away, but instead Joe glanced up with exactly the heat and warmth that set Percy’s heart ablaze.
“I’m desperate to have you all to myself again,” Percy whispered.
Then the pink cheeks. That smile that said Joe knew exactly how adored he was, but he still found it so new and unsettling. Percy thought he might kill anyone else who made Joe smile like that.
Realising at once how awful that thought was, he set about convincing himself he hadn’t thought it, and instead guided Joe’s lips to his for a gentle kiss. “Sorry about the car.”
Joe was blushing even harder now, and Percy wanted to throw him down right there in the alley way. “It’s a stupid car,” the delicious mouth announced.
“It is a stupid car,” Percy agreed, and as a hard-on is never a good look when kidnapping a teenage girl, Percy took a deep breath, forced himself to look away from Joe as he sank onto the plush leather of the backseat, and closed the door behind him.
Percy climbed in, listening patiently to Joe’s requests to please drive carefully and not scratch the expensive car. Percy guaranteed that he absolutely would not scratch the expensive car while he started the machine, which purred gorgeously beneath his foot as he set it in motion. He was just about to recommence the argument about the car’s merits, when a barrage of shots rang out and the back window shattered into a sparkling sea of sharp shards all over them.
Percy slammed a foot down on the brake and aimed his gun. Joe, anticipating Percy’s reaction, dived for Althea, covering her ears and forcing her down into the glass. Percy letoff six quick shots, which floored all four men who had found their way to the alley just as they were departing.
“Joe!” Percy shouted.
Joe chanced a glance at him, his ears ringing from the shots. Percy took one look at him, his eyes going straight to a fresh cut on his cheek, then there was a twitch beneath his left eye that Joe already recognised. His stomach tightened, and he firmed his hold on Althea, who yelled, “Did you just kill those guys?”
Percy’s grip tightened to white on the gear stick. “Not yet.”
“No, Percy,” Joe tried, but the car moved back at speed. Both passengers braced for a crash, and crash they did, but not into the wall. The crunch, squelch and screams of the men were short-lived but hideously visceral. Neither Althea nor Joe, their eyes squeezed shut at the horror, saw the hand that flew off one of the assailant’s wrists as their body slammed down on the trunk with explosive force. They didn’t notice at all as it sailed straight through the window and slapped down by Joe’s shoe, from where it somehow made its way beneath the front passenger seat.
Percy had already set the car in forward motion, but then he sent a fast shudder down Joe’s spine when he wrenched the gear stick back again for a return trip. The wheels slid now, on the blood and innards, but with a few more shifts forward and back, the job was completed in full with Percy’s usual messy precision. He pulled the car up hard, got out, opened the back door of the hotel, summarily fired five more shots, then slammed himself back in.
