He was attractive, with sandy-brown hair and blue eyes, but his eyes were cold and emotionless. If I hadn’t known better, I’d have said he was bored, which sent a chill through me.
“Knew you’d come in here eventually,” he said in my ear. I couldn’t place his accent, which caressed the words spoken so calmly. “If you’re quiet and do what I tell you, only you will die tonight. Make a noise, cry for help, and I’ll make sure your boyfriend out there dies, too.”
I was breathing hard, not getting enough air with his hand covering my mouth and nose so tightly, and I gave a jerky nod. Slowly, he removed his hand and I sucked in a lungful of air. I was trembling all over, the knife in his hand glinting in the light, but I didn’t make a sound.
“Good girl,” he said. “Now we’re going to exit through the window. And don’t try running, because I’ll throw this knife and you won’t get five steps, understand?”
I nodded again, tears I refused to let fall filling my eyes. I didn’t want to die, not like this. But I was too afraid to call out for Kade. I was sure I’d be dead in seconds if I did, then would he kill Kade? I couldn’t take that chance.
It took us only a moment to climb outside, then he had hold of my arm and was leading me down the beach, away from the bungalow and hotel. I swallowed, trying to think.
“Where are you taking me?” I asked.
“Somewhere your body will be easily disposed of,” he said. “I just need a finger to prove your identity to my employer. But don’t worry, I’ll wait until you’re dead to take it.”
He spoke so matter-of-factly, reassuring me as to when he’d cut off my finger, it made me want to vomit. It took me a minute or two to fight back the panic and despair.
“You . . . you must be John,” I finally said.
That got a reaction. His head whipped around and he jerked me to a stop.
“What did you just say?” he hissed.
“I . . . I said you must be John,” I repeated, wondering if I’d just made a colossal mistake.
He jerked me closer. “Who told you that name?” he snarled. When I didn’t immediately reply, he shook me. “Tell me now or I swear to God, I’ll slit your throat right here.”
“John, you always were so overly dramatic,” Kade said.
Both of us whirled around in the direction of the voice and I rejoiced even as I panicked. John pulled me in front of him as a shield, the knife pressing into the skin under my right ear. I tried to tip my head up, but the knife stayed steady. If I so much as breathed too hard, it would slice right through me. John wasn’t an amateur at this.
John squinted into the darkness. “Dennon?”
I saw Kade step closer until he was about ten feet away, then he stopped.
“What the hell are you doing here?” John asked. “Don’t tell me we both got sent on the same contract.” Now he sounded irritated. “Bloody hell.”
“Sorry, man,” Kade said with a shrug. “But I was here first.”
John seemed to think about that. “I’ll split it with you,” he offered.
“You can have all of it,” Kade said, taking a few steps closer. “I’m getting paid in a slightly different way.” His eyes traveled down my body and back up, the look in them predatory.
John laughed. “Ah yes, I’d forgotten. You like to play with them first. We have a deal, my friend. I just need a finger, then you can have her.” The knife left my throat and he grabbed my hand.
“I want her intact,” Kade said, his voice colder now. “She’s not much good for fucking if she’s writhing in pain and bleeding all over me.”
John hesitated. “The employer wants proof,” he said with a shrug, and the affability in his voice was gone now, too.
“Since when is the word of the Krait not good enough?” Kade scoffed. “I’d tell him to go fuck himself if I were you.”
John considered and I held my breath, waiting. “You’re right,” he said at last. “I have your word then? She’ll be dead when you’re . . . finished?”
“Since when is my word questioned, either?” Kade growled, menace dripping from the words.
“Sorry, you’re right,” John said. He gave me a shove toward Kade, who wrapped an arm around my waist, dragging me to his side. I tried not to look relieved, which wasn’t hard since I was still terrified.
“See you around,” John said. He turned to walk away and only then did I let out the breath I’d been holding.
Kade didn’t speak for a moment and we both watched the darkness consume John. Finally, he looked down at me, turning my head so he could see the small cut on my neck from where the knife had pressed too hard.
“The thing is—”
I choked on a gasp, clutching at Kade. John had returned without a sound and he was staring shrewdly at us.
“The thing is,” he continued, “she knew my name.” His head tipped to one side. “How would she know that?”
Time seemed to stop as horrified realization set in. No one moved. John stared at Kade and Kade stared back.
“You should’ve kept walking,” Kade said, and his voice was as cold as an arctic wind.
John moved suddenly, as did Kade. I saw a knife flying through the air toward us, then I was on the ground, Kade crouching over me. A scream climbed up my throat as I saw the knife embedded in the back of Kade’s left shoulder. He jerked it out by the hilt, flipped it to grab the blade, and sent it flying through the night. It happened so fast, everything was a blur.
The blade sank into John’s throat. His eyes went wide and his hands clutched at his neck, pulling out the knife, but blood was flowing and he couldn’t breathe. He staggered, collapsing to his knees. I watched in horror as he fell face-first onto the sand.
Kade got up and walked to the body. Taking the knife from where it had fallen, he went to where the surf was flowing up the sand with the waves and washed it. Then he carefully wiped it off before tossing it back to the ground.
When he reached me, he took my hand and helped me to my feet. I was still shaking and now I could see blood staining the back of his shirt from the wound in his shoulder.
“You’re hurt,” I said stupidly. Hello, obvious. I’d seen him pull the damn knife out.
“I’ll be fine,” he said. “Are you okay?”
I nodded, a sob of relief building in my chest. “Is it over?” I managed to ask. “Is it finally over?”
“Yeah, it’s over.”
I threw my arms around him, burying my face in his neck as I cried. His arms circled my waist, holding me close. One hand rose to cradle the back of my head.
“I was s-so afraid he was going to h-hurt you,” I blubbered through my tears.
“Shhh. I’m fine. Let’s get out of here.”
Kade packed us up and we left the posh hotel right then. And when he had the cabdriver drop us off at a run-down motel far from the beach, I didn’t complain.
“Old habits die hard,” he said with a half smile as he unlocked the door to our room.
We showered together and I took great pains to clean the wound in the back of his shoulder. I knew he wouldn’t get stitches, which meant he’d have another scar. He didn’t seem to mind, though, his hands drifting over any part of me he could reach as if he was reassuring himself that I was okay.
Butterfly bandages we’d bought at an all-night drugstore kept his wound closed and I used lots of them, not wanting Kade to be in pain from the skin tearing apart more.
We were both solemn as we climbed into bed. I hadn’t dressed and neither had Kade, though sex wasn’t on either of our minds. Instead, Kade nestled me against him spoon style, his hips cradling my backside while his arm draped over my waist, his large palm resting on the bump of my abdomen.