Page 2 of Vicious in the Dark

I returned to the master bedroom to let myself out the way I’d come in. Not for a second did I expect to walk into the room and find myself face to face with a man letting himself in the balcony door. Like me he was dressed all in black. He also wore a ski mask to hide his face.

Jerking to a stop, I went for the knife in my sleeve, sliding it free. He pulled a gun from his pants, aiming it at my head. Knife tight in my grip, I held up both hands. Was this guy some kind of security that I didn’t know about? Or someone up to no good? Like me.

“Who the fuck are you?” he hissed. “What are you doing here?”

Ignoring his first question, I answered his second. “Stealing shit. That’s all. I didn’t come to hurt anyone.”

“Bullshit. Are you trying to steal my hit? Jack and I have a contract.” The man strode toward me, stopping only when his gun was inches from my face.

“Hit?” I repeated, risking a glance back to where the nanny began to stir in the hallway. “I came for an Egyptian statue. That’s all. I was just leaving. Nobody is even here but the nanny and the kids. How can you plan a hit and not know where your target is?”

I probably should have kept my mouth shut, but this guy was either an amateur or an idiot. Either way, he wouldn’t last long making mistakes like that.

He was far from the first person to stick a gun in my face, and he sure as hell didn’t come close to being the scariest. Unflinching, I held his gaze over the barrel. He didn’t seem to know what to make of that.

“Who are you?” he barked, waving the gun as if that would make me talk faster. “Who do you work for?”

Nobody. Not anymore. I didn’t owe this jackass my secrets, so I said, “Only the dude that hired me to grab his statue. Trust me, I’m not taking your hit. If I were, I’d have shown up on a night when the target was actually home.”

My sassy mouth had landed my ass in trouble many times before. Why should this be any different? The masked man coldcocked me with his gun, slamming it against my face. It left him open for me to take my shot. With blinding pain reverberating through my skull, I plunged my blade into his side.

He jerked back with a shout, clutching at the wound as blood spilled onto the floor. He raised the gun to fire, and I sprang forward, grabbing hold of his wrist with one hand, stabbing wildly at his forearm with the other. The gun went off, a bullet speeding past my head a few inches from my ear.

A scream from the hallway indicated the nanny’s return to consciousness. Panic filled the hitman’s dark eyes as he turned toward the new threat, gun hanging loose in his grip. Because I hadn’t come here to hurt anyone, I couldn’t let him kill the nanny right in front of me. I tackled him, knocking him to the floor, sending the gun sliding along the hardwood.

Instead of going for the gun or the nanny, the hitman decided he’d had enough of me. We wrestled as he did his best to pin me while avoiding my blade. Crushing me with his weight, he caught my blade arm and slammed it to the floor. Try as I might to hold on, he knocked the weapon from my grasp.

He wrapped both hands around my throat, intent on choking the life from me. Thinking fast, I brought my arms up between his and jerked them wide apart fast and hard. It caused his elbows to buckle, loosening his grip.

“Get the fuck off me, asshole. You’re not even here for me.” Grabbing his mask, I pulled him close and headbutted him in the face.

The sound of footsteps pounding down the stairs reminded him that the house wasn’t empty. Forgetting about me, the hitman got to his feet with a grunt, searching for his gun. I sprang to my feet as well, snatching up my blade. Then I dove for the balcony door, planning to be long gone by the time the cops showed up.

Behind me the man angrily swore and rampaged from the room in search of the nanny. I didn’t hang around. Sliding my blade back into the sheath on my forearm, I launched myself over the balcony railing, bracing myself for the burn that shot through my ankles upon landing.

And then I ran like hell.

CHAPTER TWO

WOLFE

“We’d be happy to help your son with his problem. Anything for our favorite man on the bench. Can I get you a refill on that champagne?” Without waiting for a nod, Ace grabbed a fresh bottle from where it chilled in ice. He popped the cork, expertly pouring before any bubbled over.

Ace Quinn was a blond, blue eyed pretty boy and a showoff, but he made my life easier. A master socializer, he easily steered the conversation and buttered up the judge while I sipped my bourbon in peace, jumping in here and there as needed. Keeping our law appointed friends happy was a priority. Even if it meant bailing their stupid adult children out of a gambling debt.

Through the floor pounded the music from downstairs where people drank and danced in our upscale nightclub, Shifty’s. We often conducted meetings here, upstairs in our private VIP room. A glass balcony gave us a view of the party below and allowed us to keep an eye on both front and back entries.

That’s how I spotted my brother the second he walked through the door.

My security also spotted him. Immediately Maddox was surrounded by men and women who worked for Ace and me. He held up both hands and laughed in their faces. A moment later the door opened again and Ruthless strode in, ready to have Maddox’s back.

Of course my brother hadn’t come here alone. He and Ruthless were hotheaded and quick to resort to violence. They made a volatile pairing.

My security team refused to let them pass until I gave the okay. That seemed to piss Maddox off. I watched his mouth move a mile a minute as he lit into my people. That didn’t deter them from following protocol.

Moments later my phone rang as Jake called up from below. I watched the big man put the phone to his ear, waiting for me to answer. Excusing myself from the conversation, I walked over to the balcony and stood at the railing where Maddox could see me.

“Let them in,” I said into my phone. “Frisk them first. No weapons inside.”

---