Dying Commitment (Lucky Thirteen) (10 page)

It made me nervous going in without protection or backup, but this was a monster of my own making. And I’d dragged Dylan into it too. And if something happened to him while here, on this mission, I didn’t think I’d ever forgive myself.

But nothing happened when we walked into the place. It seemed deserted. The shop smelled of old books and musty paper. The high bookshelves blocked a large part of the light as we weaved in and out of the stacks. Any other day, I’d have loved the atmosphere in here. But today, it was disconcerting.

Finally, I couldn’t take the silence. “Jacques?”

Nothing.

“Jacques, are you here?”

I made my way toward the back of the shop, where Jacques’s office was. The door was open, but it was the pool of blood sliding across the floor that caught my eye. “Fuck it all. Back here, Bambi!”

I stepped over the blood and into the office. As expected, I saw Jacques’s feet sticking out behind the desk. The blood trail came from under the desk. I scanned the room quickly and then walked around the desk. Jacques’s chest was a mess of holes. His flannel shirt was wrecked and soaked through with blood.

But it wasn’t the wounds in his chest that caught my eye. There was a note pinned to his shirt, up high near his shoulder, so it was clear of the wounds that probably pierced his heart. It had my name on the front of the note. With a sharp inhale, I knelt beside the body and unpinned the note from him. I unfolded it gently, like it would have fallen apart if I didn’t. In reality, I just didn’t want to know what it said.

Dear sweet pea,

I told you to give this up. I practically begged you to last time we talked.

Now Afonso’s and Jacques’s lives are on you. You can’t win. I know you. I’m always one step ahead of you. You can’t beat me.

Go home, sweet pea. It’s what is good for you.

Love,

Jack

I clenched my jaw, my entire body tensing so hard it shook. Anger infused my very core. Jack was still trying to tell me what to do, how to do it. But he had one thing right. He was one step ahead of me. But why Jacques? I understood Afonso, though I was sad to hear of his demise. He might have tried to kill me, but he at least had the decency to feel bad about it. But Jacques wasn’t ever on our lists. How did he even know about him? He was my contact, one that I’d gotten after Jack was gone. So why target him? How did he know to target him?

Dylan walked into the room. “It’s clear. No one’s here.”

“Jack was here.”

“How do you know?”

I handed him the note and gazed at Jacques. His only involvement was holding my stuff for me. He wasn’t a criminal. He wasn’t connected to anyone in the underworld. He had a wife. Two kids. Two girls. Twins. And now they had no father. This was my fault.

“You’re sure this was Jack?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Also, sweet pea again?”

I stood up, straightening so I could bow up near him. “Call me that one more time and I will rip your lungs out through your nose.” Anger radiated heat throughout my body. I burned to put a bullet in Jack’s head.

“What is with this guy? Either he gives you panic attacks or makes you violent.” Dylan crumbled up the paper and shook it at me. “You are better than him. You’re giving him that advantage over you.” He tossed it down and walked out.

He was right, of course. I’d been giving Jack far too much power over me and my actions. I knew that, but sometimes, I couldn’t see it. That was where Dylan came in handy. He could see it. It was one of his strengths, keeping me human. Sometimes, it was a detriment, too.

~*~*~

I sighed, and left Jacques’s office. We’d call this into Thirteen and they’d send their teams to clean it up, as always. Even though it wasn’t a sanctioned op, I knew Stephen well enough by now to know that he’d still clean up the messes I made.

I pulled the ladder over to the right corner of the wall bookshelves, and tentatively climbed up. I stopped at the seventh book case and counted the books until I got to the one I wanted. I slipped the book into my bag, and then went down to the floor. On the third shelf, there was a box turned up sideways so it looked like a book. I grabbed that too, and shoved it into my pack.

One step ahead, my ass
. Jack hadn’t found these or he’d have taken them. They were the key to understanding what was on the laptop he’d stolen from me. Or what Jack thought was on the laptop. These encryption programs were ones that Jack had never seen. And they were made by a Cadence Long he’d never known.

I walked outside, and found Dylan sitting on a park bench. His gaze was watchful, careful. He might have looked like he was relaxed, but I could see the tenseness in his shoulders. I sat down beside him.

“You’ve talked to him.” Well, that wasn’t exactly what I’d expected him to say. I hadn’t even thought about how he didn’t know about that night Jack had found me on the game. “You’ve been in contact with Jack Allen.”

“He found me. Private messaged me.”

“And said what?”

“Not to come after him.”

“So you did anyway.”

“Yes.”

“Did it never occur to you that this is what he wanted? I thought… it seemed like you were just being obsessive, and that was understandable, considering what had happened between y’all. But it’s not just that.” He frowned. “He’s obsessive about you.”

“Doubtful. He shot me. Twice. In the chest.”

“Yes. But he could have killed you any time. Think about it, Cady. He paid off Afonso to kill you instead of doing it himself. Then Afonso takes the laptop, once again paid by Jack. But we both know that Afonso isn’t good enough to actually achieve that objective. That leads us here, to Jacques, who is dead and pinned with a note taunting you, yet no one is here to come after you.”

“I don’t understand what you’re getting at.”

“He wants you dead, but he can’t do it. Or maybe he doesn’t want to yet.”

“He’s already killed me once,” I reminded Dylan. “He has no qualms about doing it again.”

“I think he does. But mostly, I think he’s playing with you, screwing with your head. Maybe…” he trailed off.

“What?”

“Maybe you
should
give this up.”

I stared at him. Was he seriously telling me this?

“Just hear me out.” He put his hands up in a surrender position, heading off my profanity-laded protest. “There’s something else at work here. If he’s boasting that he’s one step ahead of you, why hadn’t he killed you? He could have done it any time. Which means he wants more than just your life but we don’t know what it is.”

I didn’t say anything. I glanced out the window as the train clacked along the tracks. Dylan made sense and that made me want to punch him. I didn’t want him to make sense. I hated the idea, actually, because that meant I had to listen to him. But what was Jack after if it wasn’t me? Or was it me? He’d definitely made me into a target, but I’d assumed that was because of me coming after him. But what if Dylan was right and there was more to it?

“Do you want me to give this whole thing up?” I asked him quietly. I didn’t want to. I wanted to scream and cry foul and tell him if he made me do it I’d never forgive him. But the truth was, Dylan had somehow snuck under my skin. I didn’t want to do things that would tear us apart.

Dylan frowned at me, but didn’t reply immediately. He looked thoughtful, or at least like he was considering all angles. Finally, he sighed. “All I’m asking is that you talk to me, and let me know what you’re going to do. I’m your backup. You can trust me.”

Trust. There was that word again. Hurt and betrayal lurked behind that word, but also something else. I just wasn’t sure what that something else was.

Trust isn’t easy,” I told him.

He nodded. “I know.”

I wasn’t sure if we settled anything with that conversation. I felt better having Dylan close to me and knowing that he had promised to be there. But at the same time, I wanted to protect my little Bambi. There was something naive about him, innocent in a way that I’d lost years ago.

I took Dylan’s hand in mine, resting it on his thigh. For just a few minutes, I wanted to feel like I was normal, that there wasn’t an ex-NSA agent out to kill me for hunting him, and that the All-American Boy across the table from me wasn’t a SEAL-trained warrior. We were just a guy and a girl touring Valonia. It was almost believable.

“Wanna go out tonight?” Dylan asked.

I eyed Dylan, my eyebrow raising in question. “Out?”

“What? I’m just realizing that we’ve never been on a date before.”

“Because we aren’t dating. We’re on a mission.”

“Pfft. Details.” He released my hand so he could put it behind me and turn his body toward mine. He leaned in, smelling of spice and a little bit of sweat, though it wasn’t overpowering. “Go on a date with me.”

“Are you crazy? What about Jack?”

“Listen, he knows we’re here. He’s going to expect you to head straight for him.”

“If I knew where exactly he was. I can’t do that without my laptop.” Never mind I had the program on the hard drive. It still needed a computer to run it and he’d stolen mine.

“So, let’s take a day and do something for us.”

“You’re off your noggin. We have a job to do.”

“Which we need a laptop for. Do you have enough money to buy a laptop, Cady?” I scowled, because he knew I didn’t. At least, not if I didn’t get reimbursed by the government for it. “Yeah, didn’t think so.”

“You’re kind of a jerk when you’re right.”

“Look, he wants us to be hard charging. So, let’s take a night and do something for us.”

“He could come after us.”

“He could. Do you think he will?”

I frowned. For years after my shooting, I’d tracked Jack. I’d learned his habits, his preferences. Some I knew from working with him, some I learned along the way. I shook my head. “No. Public isn’t his style. Never has been. And I’m a personal kill for him. A personal fail, because I didn’t die the first time. He’ll do it himself, and he’ll do it face to face. But it could draw him out, and I could ask him why he’s trying to get my attention.”

“So date?”

He leaned in, the masculine scent of his skin wrapping around my senses and his lips touched my neck. I groaned as he dropped kisses along the column of my neck. “Cheater.”

“I like to win,” he murmured against me.

“Fine.”

He lifted his head and grinned, and then his lips crashed on mine. I gasped for breath as he released me. “You won’t regret it!”

I wasn’t sure I didn’t already.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Dylan

Cadence was a nervous wreck, so much so that I began to wonder if she’d ever actually been on a real date before. I knew she was young when the NSA recruited her, younger than I was when I went into the Navy. So she had been equally as young when she and Jack had gotten involved. But surely she’d dated in high school?

I was downstairs having a quick drink with our host while she was getting dressed. When she appeared at the top of the stairs, I almost died. She still had her leather jacket on, which meant she had a gun on her somewhere. But she had a nice pair of jeans on and a teal blouse that sloped in front like a V, accentuating her breasts in a way that made me want to drag her back up the stairs, but it didn’t go far enough down that you could see the scars on her chest. Her hair was down, strawberry blonde strands falling over her shoulders. I hadn’t realized how long her hair really was, but she usually wore it up in a ponytail.

It wasn’t an elaborate way to dress. It was casual, but dressy, and she was gorgeous. I stopped talking to our host, and stood, making my way over to the stairs. She smiled at me, a blush creeping over her pale cheeks. “Hey.”

“Hey, yourself, gorgeous,” I told her. “You look amazing.”

“This old thing?” She swept her hand down her body. “It was just laying around.”

I held out my hand to her and tentatively, she took it. “I’m going to spoil you rotten tonight.”

“George, are they not beautiful together?” Our hostess clasped her hands over her heart.

“Yes, Elise. Beautiful.” The old man grumbled. “Can we go to bed and let the young ones enjoy their evening out? This is their honeymoon after all.”

They dissolved into a small argument, which I ignored in favor of taking Cadence’s hand and leading her toward the door. She hesitated in the doorway. “Are you ready?”

“Absolutely, cupcake.”

She frowned at me and held up her index finger. “No. Just no.”

“Pumpkin?”

“Keep on trying,” she said, walking out the door. I chuckled and followed after her, shutting the door behind me. I chuckled and followed after her, shutting the door behind me. It amused me to keep calling her these nicknames. She said she hated it but I didn't think she did.

I took her hand soon as we walked out the door. The nighttime air in Valonia was sweet. We strolled along the shopping district area. Boudin County probably was one of the most beautiful spots in Valonia. It was probably one of the most frequented tourist locations, minus Valonian capital itself.