Catch Page 2

  The look in his eyes makes me incredibly uneasy. Malicious vibes roll off him in waves, and I start to wonder if it’s possible that I might reach my gun if anything was to happen. Everything in my head is telling me to not let him in.

  “You were in my office last night,” he hisses through clenched teeth.

  A lump instantly forms in my throat. Swallowing it down I school my expression, while shaking my head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Before I can let go of the door knob James brings his foot up and kicks it open. The chain gives way and little splinters of wood rain down against my head. Squealing I clutch my wrist against my body. The pain in my head is forgotten as my wrist throbs with horrible pain.

  “You son-of-a—”

  James grabs my shoulders and kicks the door closed as he spins me around and presses my body against the hard wood. His breathing is ragged, and he is so close I get the impression he might kiss me. Fearing that may happen I close my eyes and turn my cheek to his mouth. He smells strongly of mint and the leather interior of his car.

  “Look at me, Max,” he commands. When I don’t obey he pinches my chin and forces my head straight. A blazing hot anger consumes his cold, blue eyes, and my blood instantly runs cold. “It wasn’t a question. Someone was in my office last night, and I know it was you. There was no forced entry, and you know where the spare key is located.”

  I open my mouth to scream and then I feel a pinch against my ribs. Looking down I see a shiny blade pressing against my side. The tip of it had already torn through my robe, its coolness pressing against my skin.

  “Scream and I will slide this right into your chest.” I clamp my mouth shut. “Now, I know you were in my office. Tell me what you were doing.” His breath brushes against my cheek as he presses the length of his body against mine, his erection pressing into my belly.

  This sick bastard is getting off on this.

  I keep my mouth shut. The realization that I had done something horrible is settling in all around me. He is hiding something, and it must be huge. Why else would he hold a knife to my ribs? If it’s that important I can’t tell him that I copied any of his files. I need to get out of this situation, and I need to do it now.

  “I was waiting for you, baby,” I croon. The moment he’s knocked off guard I crush my lips against his forcing my tongue between his teeth. When I feel his body relax I bring my knee up nailing him directly in the boys. I can’t imagine taking a knee to an erection would feel good. When he breaks away and doubles over I grab a fistful of his hair and bring my knee back up popping him in the nose. He hits the floor with a hard thud.

  He’s groaning and cursing me as I watch blood spread across the hard wood. Nudging him with my foot, he moans again, so I step over him and throw open my apartment door. Next I proceed to roll him out into the hallway. I look up and down the hall to see if anyone has come out to see what the commotion is, but thank God it’s empty.

  “You are a disgusting, pathetic excuse of a man. If you ever come here again I’ll show you my little friend I like to call Smith and Wesson,” I threaten, as he starts climbing to his feet. I slam the door before he could say anything else.

  Yes, I do in fact own a gun, a twenty-two revolver that I know how to use well. The foster parents that I spent my last three years with showed me how to use a gun. That particular gun was my going away present when I left for college.

  Hurrying into my bedroom I pull the gun from my nightstand and take the safety off. I sit at the table placing it directly in front of me, the barrel facing the door. My knee bounces vigorously under the table. I’ve never shot anyone before, but if he comes back through that door I won’t think twice.

  After about ten minutes I decide he isn’t coming back. And as I start to come down from the adrenaline rush I realize that my wrist is on fire. I look down to see bruising and swelling. “Well, crap,” I mumble to myself. Going over to the fridge I pull out a bag of frozen peas, and then I call June and ask her to bring me to the emergency room.

  A knock thirty minutes later and I pick up the revolver as I approach the door.

  “Who is it,” I say.

  “Max, it’s June. Open the door.” I put the safety on and slip the gun into the drawer next to the door. I don’t want to scare her.

  She’s wearing a pair of old jeans and an oversized sweater. Her ringlets are pulled back in a loose ponytail. Shadows sit under her eyes, and the faint smell of alcohol lingers on her skin. As she walks in she looks at the splintered doorframe, and then down at my wrist. Finally her eyes land on the bloody spot on the floor.

  “What the hell happened?” She observes me with wide eyes.

  “Help me get dressed, and I’ll tell you on the way to the hospital.”

  “This should be interesting. I’ve never seen you with an injury before,” she snickers.

  “Yeah, well you should have seen how great James Kelly looked when I rolled his ass out of here,” I shot back. The injury has kind of damaged my pride a bit.

  On our way I explain to her what had happened. Only I lie about why he was there. Instead I tell her that he had come over and tried to cop a feel, so I broke his nose. He did press his erection against me, so it wasn’t a complete lie.

  “Holy crazy stalker! Are you insane? You should have called the cops. At least calling the cops would have given you a better chance at not losing your job.” She takes a hard right that jostles me in my seat.

  “Dammit, June, slow down. I’m not dying. And I didn’t call the cops because I can handle perverts like him just fine.”

  Calling the cops would have been an option if I didn’t know that there was something much deeper going on. Yes, James Kelly is a pervert, but I know that he would bond out of jail quickly, and then he would have one more thing to be pissed at me about.

  June sighs and shakes her head. She knows I’m capable of taking care of myself, but she hates when I won’t do what the average twenty-five year old would. She sometimes has a hard time accepting that I’m not your average twenty-five year old.

  She knew that the night we met. It was my first time in Jack’s and her alcoholic ex-boyfriend had her by the collar of her shirt. Meathead was a tall guy with big bulky shoulders. Those along with his raging attitude gave me the impression he used steroids. He was a lucky man that night. The pool cue gave way against his knee and splintered. If it wouldn’t have I’m sure his knee would have splintered instead. I had him on the floor with the thick end of the pool cue pressed against his neck, and a very convincing threat spewing from my lips before he even realized what happened. He never bothered June again.

  “Yeah, I get it; you’re badass. But one day, one day, Max, you’re going to run into someone who will be able to get the better of you.”

  We spend four hours in the emergency room to find out that I have a grade two sprain. The nurse puts a splint on my wrist and gives me a prescription for anti-inflammatories and pain killers. Perfect, this is going to be a cute accessory to wear to work Monday morning.

  June brings me to my car, and begs me to stay the night at her place, but I reassure her that I’ll be fine at home. She finally gives up when I promise that I’ll call the cops if he shows up again.

  When I get back to my apartment I pack a bag of clothes, other essentials, and my gun. There is no way in hell I’m staying here. I also wouldn’t stay at June’s. James knows she is my friend, and I refuse to involve her. A hotel felt much safer at the moment, so I figure a couple of nights there might help me sleep better. I need all the rest I can get if I’m going to go into work on Monday and have to face that asshole.

  ****

  When I pull into the parking garage on Monday morning Opal is sitting in her usual spot.

  “Shit,” I say as I put my forehead against the steering wheel. I was hoping that by some fat chance he would be too embarrassed to come to work with a busted nose. I wonder what he told his wife when he went home with that injury. I chuckle
at the idea. He deserved it.

  As I walk into the office I notice that no one is paying any more attention to me than normal. A few people ask about my wrist, and I tell them I slipped and fell in the shower.

  I go straight to the kitchen and fix Mr. Kelly his cup of coffee. When I approach his door I take a deep breath and knock.

  “Come in,” he barks.

  Great, this was going to be awesome.

  I open the door to find him pacing behind his desk. He looks up and the look on his face is priceless. I can tell by his disconsolate expression that I’m the last person he expected to walk through his door. His nose is swollen and he has a bruise that begins at the bridge of his nose and stretches out underneath both eyes.

  His office is ridiculous with leather furniture, a huge cherry wood desk, two computers, and expensive art work hanging on every single wall. The view though, that is the most impressive part, with the Washington Monument standing tall as a big, beautiful backdrop.

  “That’s a nice look for you,” I say as I set the cup of coffee on his desk. I raise my splinted wrist so he can see it. “The way I see it, we’re even.” He storms around the desk and stops only inches away from me. This time I’m not caught off guard. Honestly, I meant to piss him off. “One finger. If you lay one more finger on me I will fuck you up.”

  His whole body stiffens and I can see the muscle flex in his jaw. “I will find out why you were in my office, and on my computer. Max, you have gotten yourself into some deep shit.”

  “Goodie, so I get to keep my job?” I say sarcastically.

  He smirks and I’m fully expecting him to fire me right then and there, but he shocks me and says, “Get out of my office, and get that sweet ass behind your desk.”

  ****

  Catch

  Hiding out in a stolen SUV has never been in my job description. But then again never has kidnapping either. I’d much rather hop onto the back of my bike and do my killing from a distance. Never once have I ever had to come in direct contact with an assignment. Thankfully, this is the last one. No more last minute travel. No more long hours, and most importantly, no more killing.

  Feeling a little irritated, I scrub my hands down my face and rub the scruff on my chin. This vehicle smells strongly of expensive cologne, and I’m exhausted from spending the entire night outside the apartment building of my assignment. Unfortunately, she didn’t show. The middleman called me to inform me that Timer wasn’t pleased that the client was upset. Apparently, he wants her taken care of immediately. I didn’t hesitate to tell the middleman that it wasn’t my fault she didn’t return home, and that Timer needed to keep his clients in check and let the professional do his job. I know the client had something to do with her not returning home. What that was though, I wasn’t sure, and honestly, I don’t care. He is obviously a dumbass.

  I realized this morning when her car was already here that I had missed her again. I need to get this done, and soon. If Timer starts to doubt me at all he will get someone else on the job. I can’t let that happen. I need the money.

  Uncomfortable, I shift in my seat and crack the driver side window to allow some fresh air in. I’m more than ready to get this over with, get my money, and then disappear. If I’m careful I will have enough money to live out the rest of my life in some other country, maybe working odd jobs to keep me from becoming bored.

  My spine stiffens when the door to the garage opens and the assignment steps out. Pieces of her flaming red hair blow in the breeze as she tosses them out of her face. Her curvy body is dressed in a pinstripe skirt, white blouse, and matching jacket. She is taller than I had expected, with legs for days.

  My stomach squeezes with unease.

  Taking a deep breath I silently slip out of the SUV and pull on a Carnival mask covering my entire face. I got it one night in New Orleans during Mardi Gras while taking care of another assignment. I round the back of the vehicle and watch as she approaches her car, and stops briefly to rummage through her purse for her keys.

  “I cannot believe that son-of-a-bitch is making me go pick up his lunch. I should spit in his fucking food,” she mumbles, clearly annoyed. She stomps her foot in frustration as she continues to dig. “Where the hell are my keys?”

  Quiet as a mouse, I approach her from behind, and snake my hand around her and clamp it down over her mouth. Instantly, her feet buck out. She plants them against the trunk of her car and shoves herself against me, letting out a feral growl in the process. Both of us stagger backwards. She is much stronger than I expected her to be. When I almost lose my footing she nails me in the ribs with her elbow, and then throws her head back, slamming into my collar bone and just barely missing my head. My heart rate picks up as the adrenaline surges through my veins.

  I was expecting this to be easy. Of course they have me kidnapping the feistiest woman in the DC area.

  As she’s struggling I wrap my arm around her neck, squeezing with my elbow. She continues to nail me in the ribs and kick her legs like a wild animal. After a few moments I finally feel her body start to relax. She grunts against my hand and her body goes limp, as she sags forward in my arms.

  Scooping her up against my chest, I walk over to the SUV and lay her down in the back. I hurry over and collect her purse and shoes, and toss them into the back seat. I climb in with her and shut the door, closing us into the security of the tinted windows. Leaning over her I pull out the duct tape. When I look down I notice that her skirt is hiked up enough that a peek of her black panties is showing.

  I’m not sure what possesses me to do it, but I pull the skirt down covering her legs. Like I said, I have never come in contact with an assignment before. She doesn’t look like any of the other skeevie assignments I’ve had in the past. They all got what was coming to them. But this one, she seems different. An imaginary force slams into my chest reverberating through my entire body. This is wrong. A tight knot of unease forms in my stomach, and I know now that there is no amount of money they can pay me to do something like this again.

  When I was done taping her hands, ankles, and mouth, I slip into the driver seat and punch the address into the GPS for a back roads route. I decide I’m not going to remove the mask, because at any moment she might wake up and see my face. No assignment has ever seen my face.

  3

  Max

  I open my eyes to a dull headache. Blinking a few times it takes me a moment to realize that my mouth is taped shut, and my ankles and wrists are bound. I turn my head and see my kidnapper driving. He is dressed in all black, making him blend in with the black interior of the car. His dark hair is shaved on the sides but long on the top, and he’s wearing a carnival mask.

  I rub my wrists together trying desperately to stretch the tape. It pulls on my sprained wrist and a muffled cry pushes through the tape on my mouth. He turns and looks over his shoulder. The sinister smile on the colorful mask sends a cold shiver down my spine.

  Going into complete panic mode I bring my knees up and start kicking on the back window. With my feet bare I’m not making any progress. If only my heels would have stayed on I may have been able to break the window. What I would do after I broke the window is still up in the air. This jackass is stupid if he thinks I’m going to go down without a fight.

  He turns around and looks at me again. This time our eyes lock long enough for me to see their steel grey color. When he reaches into the backseat I flinch. He doesn’t say anything just reaches over and pulls the tape from my lips.

  “Ouch! You stupid fucker!” I yell. He chuckles. “Oh I’m glad you think this is funny.” He still hasn’t said anything. “Say something. Tell me why you kidnapped me.”

  The vehicle makes a sharp left turn and I look up out the window trying to see if anything might look familiar, but all I can see is clear blue sky.

  “I’m only doing my job,” he says in a gruff voice.

  “What job?”

  He shrugs. “When I get the assignment I do it. That’s my jo
b.”

  “Such bullshit. This has something to do with James Kelly, right?” I pull on the tape again and grit my teeth against the pain shooting through my wrist.

  “Like I said, I don’t know the specifics. I just do my job. Would you like to tell me why I was hired to kidnap you?”

  “James Kelly is scared shitless because I apparently have information that he doesn’t want me to have,” I reply. “Now are you going to confirm what I just told you? Because seriously I think I have the right to know why you kidnapped me.”

  He continues to stay sitting forward in his seat completely silent. It’s clear that I’m not going to get anywhere with him. This mess has to have something to do with James. He knows I was in his office. He knows that I found something. Or he isn’t completely sure and he isn’t taking any chances.

  Damn, I always knew there was something fishy about him.

  “So you’re not going to beg me to let you go? Offer me money that a rich daddy somewhere in the Caribbean will pay?” he asks.

  “Nope. Honestly, I’m not the begging type. What’s the point, it won’t work anyway,” I reply. I’m not the kind of person who begs for anything, but for some reason I don’t think I need to beg him. I have a feeling that whatever is going on doesn’t end with him. It only begins with him, and I should save my questions, and possible begging, for when and if I become desperate.

  Before I can grill him for more information I feel the massive vehicle come to a stop. My kidnapper gets out and walks around to the side door near my head. Dammit. I had every intention of kicking him in the face. He’s smart.

  I hear the rip of duct tape, and then the door pops open. As he comes down to put the tape over my mouth I shake my head trying to dodge him. Of course, in the end, he has the upper hand.

  Tucking his hands under my armpits he pulls me out of the backseat and places me on my bare feet, the gravel pressing into my sensitive skin. I quickly take in my surroundings trying to figure out where I am. There’s an old plane hangar, other decaying buildings, and a body of water. Nothing is familiar. I’m completely lost.