Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 100853 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 504(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100853 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 504(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
“Well, come with me,” she said, handing me the pack of wipes.
“Why? Where are we going?” I asked as I followed her out of the room.
“Just because he doesn’t want you in the storeroom doesn’t mean you can’t watch,” she said, pushing open the door to the surveillance room.
One of Hawk’s team looked up from the cameras. “How come you’re not in there?” he asked Wren.
She shrugged her shoulders. “I track. I don’t talk. Ryder and Eli are much better at this part of it. Probably Griffen and Hawk, too. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to see what happens. And I think Paige deserves to be a part of it.”
“I agree,” I said quietly.
Wren pulled up an empty chair and shoved it my way. “Sit,” she said. “Use the wipes to get the rest of the blood off your leg.”
I started to say I was fine, but she shook her head. “The adrenaline’s going to wear off soon, and you’re going to feel like crap. Headache, exhausted. Those cuts are going to start hurting. Anybody give you any Advil?”
I shook my head.
“When this is over, make sure you take some. For now, finish cleaning up, and we’ll watch. Turn it up, would you?” she said to the guy running the surveillance system.
He nodded in agreement and hit the volume button on the keyboard.
The three of us fell silent as we watched the action in the storage room. The guy Ryder shoved into a chair was tall and wiry, dressed in camouflage so dark it was almost black. His brown hair was cut brutally short, his eyes flat and guarded. That was really all I could make out from the way he was angled in the chair.
Ford leaned up against the wall. Eli stood by the door with Hawk. Griffen pulled up the chair across from the sniper, Ryder standing behind him.
“You want to tell us what you’re doing here?” Griffen asked congenially, as if they were having a chat over a beer.
“I’m here because your people grabbed me and dragged me here,” the sniper said, sounding as reasonable as Griffen.
“Fair enough,” Griffen agreed. “Then why don’t you tell me what you were doing up in a tree on my land, shooting into my brother’s window?”
“Trying to kill him, obviously.” The sniper tapped his foot on the stone floor, looking bored.
“Obviously,” Griffen agreed. “It would be helpful if you could tell me who sent you.”
“Bounty. But you already know that.”
“It was the assumption,” Griffen agreed. “Better to have it verified.”
“Fine. I verified. You going to let me go? I promise I won’t do it again.”
“Not entirely believable,” Ryder said, his arms crossed over his chest, his short hair sticking straight up as if he’d been running wet hands through it. “But how about we make that a little easier?”
“Are you going to shoot me?” the man in the chair asked, sounding for the first time a touch apprehensive.
“Too much cleanup,” Hawk said curtly.
The assassin didn’t seem to find that answer reassuring. “Look, I was just doing a job.”
“Then you might want to spread the word that the job isn’t worth it. We’ve stopped everyone who’s come. Including you.”
“Yeah, I get you,” the man in the chair said. “If you caught me, my guess is nobody’s getting through.”
“Exactly,” Hawk confirmed.
“But you’ve got to understand, I can tell everybody you’ve got Silas’s team on the job along with your own people, and the smart ones will stay away. But some of us are too stupid and greedy, too arrogant. They’ll still come. It’s a hell of a bounty.”
“Then,” Ryder said, “you might want to add that the man who posted that bounty doesn’t have access to any of his funds.”
The man’s eyebrows shot up. “Well, that is a problem.”
“Yes, for you or anyone else who succeeds in killing the target. No one’s getting paid. Not a penny.”
“That might slow down the takers,” the man in the chair agreed. “Nobody wants to go to this much trouble, risk ending up in your hands, only to walk away broke.”
“Just to be clear,” Griffen said, “anyone who puts a bullet in my brother isn’t walking away under any circumstances.”
“I heard you played on the right side of the law,” the sniper said.
I thought that might get a reaction out of Griffen, and I watched with interest.
“Usually,” Griffen agreed, his eyes the icy green of a frozen sea. “But you’re talking about my brother. There’s a lot of acres of mountain out there. Not hard to lose a body.” He rolled his shoulders back and crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m already—” Griffen paused, as if searching for the right word. “Displeased,” he said finally, “that one of my employees ended up bloody because of the window you broke when you tried to shoot my brother. I’m tempted not to let you walk out of here just for that. However, if you spread the word that the bounty won’t be paid, and anyone we catch on our land won’t ever be seen again, we’re willing to let you go. Just this one time.”