Page 81 of Nanny for the Mercenaries

I liked working for a mercenary group like the Mathos Company because we could choose our own missions. We were soldiers of fortune, guns for hire. But there was still a whole bunch of sitting around doing nothing. Even now, quietly following our target through a market, I wasn’t reallydoinganything. I was jealous that Archer would be the one who eventually got to put this guy in a shallow grave.

For ten minutes, Kadyrovic was a perfect Chechen tourist. He smiled at vendors. He haggled with one man before eventually buying a hat—which he gave to his bodyguard and made him wear. The guard didn’t look happy about it, but that seemed to make Kadyrovic laugh even harder. It was a very boring, uneventful day.

And then Kadyrovic looked over his shoulder and slipped down an alleyway out of sight. I quickly circled around into the center of the market to get a better angle, just in time to see my target duck into a rug shop. The bodyguard posted out front, and the shopkeeper flipped the sign on the door to “CLOSED.”

What’s he doing in a rug store?I wondered.Is this why he’s in the city in the first place?

Two minutes passed. Then three. I was leaning against a stall that was selling minced pies, and the vendor started complaining about my presence. I reached into my pocket, pulled out a handful of coins without looking, and shoved them across the counter without ever taking my eyes from the rug store. The stall vendor suddenly loved me, and tried to hand me one of his pies, but a look from me sent him to the opposite end of the stall without another word.

What was Kadyrovic doing inside? Something important was definitely going down. Something out of the corner of my eye caught my attention, and I glanced over.

Trish was walking through the market, holding hands with my daughter.

The sight of them was sudden and unexpected. Trish was looking at souvenirs at a stall and describing them to Kaylee, who stood on her tippy toes to try to see. My first thought was to panic. If they saw me, they might blow my cover. I pulled my cap down lower over my eyes.

My second thought was of howgoodTrish looked. A woman who had never left North Carolina before, and here she was, totally comfortable navigating a Baku marketplace. I had been thinking about her a lot lately. I had always known that she was attractive, but now I found hersexy. Her golden hair swayed around her like an aura as she shook her head, declining whatever the stall vendor had offered. Her jeans hugged her tightly and showed off her long legs, and that apple-shaped ass that I desperately wanted to sink my fingers into. How could I not? The kisses we had shared, although forced, had a level of spark that was undeniable. I couldn’t take my eyes off of her.

I shook my head and tore my eyes back to the rug shop. I just needed to get laid. It had been three or four months. I wasn’t a fan of paying for sex, but I might need to make an exception in this city if our mission went on much longer.

It’s not a random escort I want, I thought while gazing at her some more.

I growled under my breath, which made my pie vendor buddy jump. I needed to focus on my job. There was movement at the rug shop, just inside the windows. I could see inside the window. I raised my camera to look through the telescopic lens. Kadyrovic was handing something to the shopkeeper. I snapped a few photos, then lowered the camera. Whatever was going down inside that store…

Motion out of the corner of my eye made me turn. There was Trish, standing at the mouth of an alley, but something was wrong. A man was gripping her by the arm. She tried to pull away, but he tightened his grip. Next to her, Kaylee took a cautious step back.

I never thought about it. I dropped my camera and took off at a dead sprint. My boots pounded on the pavement as I ran for all I was worth, ran toward Trish and my daughter, both of whom were in danger. I crashed through groups of tourists and weaved around vendor stalls. Everything around me faded to unimportant nothingness as I focused on reaching them as quickly as possible.

When I reached the alley, the man was dragging Trish away with a hand over her mouth. She was putting up a fight, God bless her, kicking and thrashing, but it was no use against the stronger man. Kaylee was still backing away, frozen in fear, her eight-year-old brain not understanding what was happening.

I took in all of this without slowing. The assailant saw me at the last possible moment as I slammed my shoulder into him at full speed. Everyone went flying, Trish included. My head knocked against the assailant’s, and for a few heartbeats my vision went white. Bright light flashed across my eyes, and I blinked rapidly to try to restore my sight.

Shapes began to return, and then I could see the basic outline of the alley. The assailant was grabbing Trish again, reaching at her waist. He pulled a wad of colorful Azerbaijani Manat bills from her pocket and then took off, stumbling as he escaped the alley and melded into the crowd. A few stray bills floated in the wind behind him.

I started to pursue him, but then Kaylee was clinging to my leg and whimpering my name. With immense restraint, I pulled my attention away from the attacker and turned toward the two women who truly mattered to me.

33

Trish

I dreamed I was flying, Or maybe floating. Either way, I was among the clouds with the earth far below. Birds soared around me, swooping and diving in playful patterns. The feeling of the wind in my hair made me feel alive. It made me feel free.

When I opened my eyes, I realized I wasn’t flying. I was being carried by powerful arms. I looked up and saw Harrison trudging along, a determined look on his face.

“What…” I murmured.

“Trish!” Kaylee squealed somewhere next to me. “Daddy said you were just sleeping, but I know he’s fibbing because he doesn’t want to tell me the truth. Are you okay?”

Slowly, my memory returned in pieces. We were in the market. I was declining a vendor who insisted I needed one of his woven scarfs. And then a man was grabbing my arm, and pulling me into an alley, and he covered my mouth before I had a chance to scream for help.

And then something crashed into us, and I hit the ground.

“Harrison,” I said, finding more life in my voice with every passing second. “Put me down.”

“Nope,” he replied without looking at me.

“I’m okay. Put me down. You don’t need to carry me.”

He grunted and kept walking.

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