Blind Fury Read online

  “In that case, I have just as much of a motive as you do,” she said. “But you told him in front of all those people that you should have killed him when you had the chance.”

  “Did I?” he sputtered, dropping his bottle to the counter with a loud thunk. Beer bubbled over onto the granite and spread into a foamy puddle. He snagged a dish towel off the oven handle to mop up the mess. Had he really said that? Probably. It was how he’d felt. Hell, he still did. But that was so not helping his case.

  His head felt like it was about to explode. If he let the police arrest him, there was no telling what kind of evidence had been planted at the scene. If the big guys at Claymore were behind it, Mick was well and truly fucked. “I can’t go to jail,” he said. “I have to figure out who’s behind all of this and put an end to it. Otherwise, neither of us will ever be safe.”

  “I thought you were done looking out for me.” The way she hugged her middle undermined the bravado she was trying to project.

  He’d thought so too, but he couldn’t turn his back on his promise to Rob. And as pissed as he was at Jenna—for using him, for believing he could have killed Smitty—he’d never forgive himself if something happened to her. Plus the sad, desperate sucker in him wanted her around. Which made what he had to do even harder.

  “I’d like nothing more than to cut you loose, but I owe it to your brother to protect you, whether you deserve it or not.”

  Spots of red bloomed on her neck and cheeks. She crossed her arms and glared at him. “So what do we do now?”

  “We split up.”

  Split up? Jenna narrowed her eyes. Hadn’t the plan changed? “But you just said you owed it to Rob to protect me.”

  She knew she was being inconsistent. She had been telling him for days that he was absolved of his promise to Rob. But now the situation was more perilous than ever. They needed to stick together. And despite his unwillingness to cooperate, he was still her best chance for learning the rest of the story about Rob’s death. She was almost certain that everything she’d gone through since then was linked to that awful day.

  “The best way to keep you safe is to get you away from me. The police are going to be coming after me, not you. I can’t get you involved.”

  She gave an incredulous laugh. “Are you serious? I’m already involved. In case you’ve forgotten, the whole reason I’m hiding out is because someone is following my every move.”

  “Which is why I called Kurt. I’d trust him with my life. He’ll keep you safe.”

  “I’m sure he’s fine, but I don’t want to be stuck with a guy I hardly know.” Jenna kept her voice low. There was no reason to offend the man in the next room, especially if he was going to be her new bodyguard. “Maybe it will help to have me around. The police won’t be looking for a couple.”

  Mick toyed with his beer bottle before dumping the dregs into the sink. “They will be if you suddenly turn up missing.”

  “They can call me anytime they’d like.”

  “Not if you come with me. I’m leaving my cell behind so that it can’t be used to locate me. And I’m going to hit the bank and pull out a wad of cash so that they can’t track my credit cards. I’m going off the grid, Jay. If you came with me, you’d have to do the same, and then Tara wouldn’t be able to reach you.”

  Her stomach twisted into a knot. He’d found her weakness.

  “I can’t take you along,” he said again, moving to the front door and hefting his bag. “By tonight or tomorrow at the latest, my picture will probably be all over the news. If you come with me, yours will be too.”

  He was right. It made no sense for her to go with him. If she did, she’d become a fugitive from the police too. But there had to be a way for them to stick together, didn’t there? She couldn’t just let him walk away with all of this unresolved tension between them. She opened her mouth to argue again, but Mick cut her off.

  “Kurt and his guys can protect you better than I can now, and if I take you with me, you’ll only slow me down.” His jaw hardened and he looked her straight in the eye. “I’m going alone. End of discussion.”

  And that’s when it hit her. She wanted to be with him because despite his flaws he was an honorable man she could trust.

  More importantly, she wanted to be with him because she loved him.

  Before she lost her nerve, she walked up to him, stretched up onto her tiptoes and kissed him, pressing him into the wall next to the door. His bag fell to the floor with a thud and his arms cinched her waist, crushing her to him. He was warm and hard and he returned her kiss with total abandon.

  All thoughts fled her brain as he consumed and caressed her, stoking fires deep within. She could have stayed like that for days, but without warning, he pushed her away, depriving her of his warmth and his roaming hands.

  He studied her with a fierce gaze, his chest heaving as if he’d been running. “What was that for?”

  Tears burned behind her eyelids. He thought she was trying to play him again. “Just goodbye.”

  Jaw tight, he picked up his bag and peered through the peephole before opening the door a crack to scan the corridor. Looking over his shoulder at her, he said, “I’ll call Kurt with my plan in a few minutes. Do whatever he tells you, Jenna. He’s here to keep you safe.”

  She nodded in defeat.

  He held her gaze, and for one shiny moment she thought he might kiss her. But then, for the second time that day, he shut a door in her face.

  Jenna rested her forehead against the cool, metal door and closed her eyes. Now what?

  “Did Mick leave?” Kurt asked from behind her, his voice full of disbelief.

  She took a fortifying breath and turned. “He said he’d call you in a few minutes with a plan.”

  He scowled, but then nodded after a moment. “Fine. I’ll line up somewhere to take you.”

  She frowned. The last thing she wanted was to be stuck in a hotel room with a bunch of brooding bodyguards.

  The jingle from her cell phone made her jump. She didn’t recognize the number, but she answered it anyway, thinking it might be Colin’s phone.

  “Jenna? It’s me.”

  “Tara, thank God! Are you okay? I’ve been so worried about you.” Jenna sagged against the wall as her throat tightened. She hadn’t realized how much Tara’s disappearance had been weighing on her. Her body trembled and she fought back tears. Her best friend was all she had left, especially since Mick was headed God knows where, and losing her might be more than she could handle.

  “I’m fine,” Tara said brightly. “Colin asked me to go to the beach with him, so I told Wanda I wasn’t feeling well. I feel bad lying, but I’ve been such a good employee. I think I deserve a little break, don’t you?”

  Jenna’s heart skipped a beat. “Uh, yeah, sure.” Something wasn’t right. Her friend’s voice was even more cheerful than usual, almost manic. “Wanda wasn’t pissed, though? I mean, come on, this is the lady that chews you out if you’re two minutes late even after you call in about being stuck in traffic. She didn’t sound happy when I talked to her.”

  “Oh, no,” Tara said. “She’s such a pushover. We can pretty much get away with anything in that department.”

  Okay, Tara was definitely trying to send her a message. She was in trouble. “Oh, well, good. So, this trip sounds exciting. Where are you guys going?”

  “We’re in Virginia Beach, right near that place you and I stayed last year for my birthday. I’m excited. In fact, I need to get going because I promised Colin we’d hit the water before it gets too late.”

  They’d never been to Virginia Beach together. And the only place they’d ever gone to for Tara’s birthday was The Ranch House Grill in Leesburg. Her favorite restaurant.

  “Got it,” Jenna said. “Call me later if you can.”

  “I will. Thanks.”

  Reluctantly, Jenna let her friend go, the leaden weight firmly back on her shoulders. Looking up, she met Kurt’s dark-eyed gaze.

  “
Everything okay?” he asked.

  “I don’t think so.”

  After shutting the door on Jenna, Mick sprinted along the corridor, quickly picked the lock on the fifth door down, and slid inside. No one would think to look for him so close to home. He stood in the living room of his neighbor’s condo for a full minute, his brain still fuzzy from Jenna’s kiss. His dick, however, was wide awake. Goddamn. He didn’t know what her game was, and he had no time to figure it out. Had she wanted to prove he couldn’t resist her? Or maybe she’d just been hoping to guilt him into staying.

  Either way, she didn’t seem so immune to him herself.

  “Tori?” He checked the unit, thankful that neither Tori nor her husband Damon had come home for lunch. Moving into the kitchen, he picked up the handset of the telephone hanging on the wall.

  Kurt answered after several rings and Mick laid out his plan.

  “Tara just called, but Jenna is positive she’s being held against her will,” Kurt said.

  “Shit.”

  “Yeah.” Kurt paused. “She’s pretty upset.”

  And Mick wasn’t there for her. “I understand, but she needs to worry about herself right now. Get her the hell out of my condo before the cops show, and make sure you don’t lose her.” Mick paused for a moment and then added, “Please.”

  Kurt gave a low chuckle. “Roger that.”

  They discussed the plan, and then Mick ended the call, shoving aside concerns he couldn’t afford to entertain. He walked through the condo to the master bedroom, hoping Damon wouldn’t mind if he borrowed a few things. The room had blue walls, a king-sized bed piled high with decorative pillows, and lots of tropical plants in bright pots. Quite a switch from his own bedroom, which was filled with furniture he’d inherited from his grandmother.

  He entered the walk-in closet and rummaged around until he found what he needed. Damon was a large guy, but soft around the middle. He’d been a football player in college, but he’d let himself go in the years since graduation.

  Mick picked out a sweatshirt and baseball cap, and found a spare pair of reading glasses on the dresser. Next, he went through the bathroom cabinets. Tori changed her hair color every few weeks, and he would bet good money that she had a stash of dye somewhere.

  Bingo. Under the bathroom sink, mixed in with the clutter of toilet paper, random bottles of whatever women collected, and a basket of first aid supplies, several boxes of Clairol were stacked in a row. He chose black to hide his own sandy color and went to work.

  A loud knock down the hall made his nerves jump. It was followed quickly by a shout, “Police! Open up!”

  He hoped like hell that Jenna and Kurt were long gone. If not, the cops would never believe they hadn’t helped Mick escape. A loud crash echoed along the corridor. So, that answered one question. Kurt would have opened the door if he and Jenna were still in the condo. One less thing to worry about.

  Once the police cleared the place and realized he was gone, they’d start canvassing the neighbors, most of whom would still be at work. By the time they combed through the building after work hours, he’d be long gone. The key was to make sure they had no reason to kick in Tori and Damon’s door.

  He quickly rinsed out his hair and used some mascara on his eyebrows—which would look odd if he didn’t darken them too—and got dressed in the borrowed clothes. He snagged one of Tori’s throw pillows and slipped it under his T-shirt, which he tucked into his jeans. Then he threw on the Redskins sweatshirt and topped it with the well-worn Yankees ball cap. He added the glasses and stepped in front of the mirror.

  His pants were too trim, making him appear top-heavy, and his cheekbones were too hollow. Careful to stay silent while the police started knocking on neighboring units, he found a pair of Damon’s jeans.

  Replacing his pants with the larger pair, he added a belt to keep them and the pillow from falling down, and tucked his own jeans behind the padding so he could change back into them later. Next step, his face. In the middle drawer of the bathroom vanity, he found cotton balls. He stuffed three into each cheek, working them back so they wouldn’t be seen if he spoke to anyone.

  Checking his reflection once again, he marveled at the changes. The glasses completely altered the look of his eyes, and combined with his new doughboy figure and jet-black hair, he was confident he wouldn’t be recognized.

  He flinched at the knock on the door, but forced himself to stay calm. They couldn’t enter without probable cause. He just had to keep his cool until they left the floor. No doubt someone would be watching the building, but he’d be able to walk right past them.

  Based on the muffled conversations he could hear from the hallway, the police were continuing their door-to-door search, questioning the few people who were home.

  To pass the time, he went over his plan for the rest of the day. First, he needed cash. For the amount he needed, he’d have to go into the bank, which meant dismantling enough of his disguise to convince the teller it was really him. It also meant she’d have seen his new hair color, which was why he’d pocketed a bottle of red dye too.

  After the bank, he would go off the radar for good. The cops or the bad guys or both could be watching Jenna, but Kurt’s crew would keep her safe, so at least he didn’t need to worry about her.

  Not that he could stop. He slouched into an easy chair and let his mind wander back to their last kiss. He’d wanted to devour her on the spot. Walking out that door had been one of the hardest things he’d ever done.

  Several minutes after the corridor went quiet, Mick rose from the chair and checked the hallway. Clear. He opened the door and strolled into the corridor as if he belonged there.

  Since he was in full costume now, he took the elevator instead of the stairs down to street level, and strolled through the lobby, keeping his stride loose and his shoulders tipped forward. He fought the urge to run as he left the building and turned toward the commercial strip across the street.

  He was two yards from the door when a young policeman stepped in his path, hand on his gun holster, and told him to stop.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  AS SOON AS KURT ended the call with Mick, Jenna grabbed her bags and followed the security specialist out the door. She had questions, but getting out before the cops showed up was more important.

  Now they were on the freeway in his black truck, trees zooming by the windows. “I know you can’t give me the details, but does he have a good plan?” she asked.

  Kurt glanced at her before changing lanes. “Under the circumstances, I think it’s the best he can do.”

  Mick had to trust Kurt a lot to keep him in the loop like that. “You’re not worried about lying to the police and helping a fugitive? Won’t it hurt your business?”

  Instead of giving her a direct answer, he gestured to his legs and said, “Mick pulled me from a downed bird, patched me up, and picked off any unfriendlies until help arrived. I owe him my life.” Kurt’s gaze traveled between the road in front of them and his rear and side view mirrors in a constant, watchful arc, but he didn’t look at her again. She stayed silent, sensing there was more to the story.

  “He was the best shot on the team. He never hesitated to use his weapon when absolutely necessary, but he only fired when it was needed. I don’t believe he could kill this guy in cold blood.”

  Jenna absorbed Kurt’s words. “I feel the same way,” she said. “In the heat of the moment, maybe, but not with premeditation. Don’t you think the police will suspect Mick was framed after what happened to my house and then his car?”

  “Hard to say. They might think he killed the perpetrator.”

  She sighed. What a mess. Not sure what else to say, she fixed her attention on the passing scenery.

  Five minutes later, they parked behind the Steele Security building, which was an old two-story brick colonial that had been converted to commercial use like so many others in the area. “One of my guys will meet us here when everything’s ready.”

  H
e entered the back and led her through a galley kitchen into the living room turned reception area. The room boasted an unmanned gray metal desk, a black leather love seat flanked by end tables, and not much else.

  “This is nice,” Jenna said. It was fine, but it could use a decorator’s touch.

  Kurt gave her a knowing glance. “Not really, but it’s a start.” He waved her toward a short hallway. “There’s a bathroom here”—he pointed to a half bath tucked beneath the stairs—“and my office.” The scuffed wooden floors creaked as he moved behind a desk that matched the military-issue one in the front room. He gestured for her to take a seat in one of two worn wood dining chairs across from him.

  “How many employees do you have?” she asked.

  He wiggled the mouse next to his desktop computer and then typed a few keystrokes on the keyboard. “So far, it’s just me, Todd, and Jason, but I’m working on getting Dan and Mick to join me.” He clicked the mouse and watched the screen as he talked. “And I need a business manager.”

  “So things are going well?”

  He finally turned his dark eyes her way. “Not bad. I could probably get more if I had enough guys to fulfill the contracts. It’s a bit of a catch-22.”

  She nodded absently and looked around the spartan office while he checked email or looked at porn or whatever he was doing. There were no pictures in here to break up the monotonous tan walls. Really there wasn’t much of anything. She set her purse down and withheld a sigh. How long were they going to sit here? What was Mick doing? Was he okay? Would she ever see him again? And what about Tara?

  “Is there anything we can do to help my friend?” she asked. “I’m pretty sure she’s in Leesburg. Can’t we track Colin’s phone or something?” She fiddled with the bracelet Mick had given her. The feeling of uselessness made her restless in her own skin.