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“What the fuck are you talking about?” He sounded pissed.
Clay’s voice was softer. “No one in this room even knows who the boss is, do they?”
It was mostly true. Nick knew, but the rest of the guys were blind. The fewer people who had the exact details of Marcus’ life — his face, his schedule, his family — the less likely he was to be betrayed.
He played most things close to his chest.
Including me.
The sound of a gun leaving a holster pulled my attention back to Nick. He had it pointed at my chest, and his boldness made the other men in the room move.
This was getting out of hand — I was ready to face the consequences of blowing my cover, because I didn’t know how good a shot any of the assholes were. It would be a damn shame if they hit Clay while I handled them.
With a grunt, I yanked my shirt over my head — six pairs of eyes turned to look at my chest and widen.
If you didn’t know what you were looking at, the string of six roses with skulls dancing between them wouldn’t mean anything. If you didn’t know what you were looking at, the looping word karma wouldn’t mean shit.
But every man in this room had a lesser version of my tattoo. I dropped my shirt and let them see I was clearly armed with two guns — both of them engraved with the careful letters of my initials.
J.H.
“Maybe you haven’t heard, but Marcus Holden has a son. Do you really want to keep your fucking guns pointed at his head? I could get him on the phone right now and let him know.” To prove I wasn’t bluffing, I pulled out my cell. Three of their guns dropped to the ground, and another went back to the holster. It was only Nick who still held his firearm, and it was with his bad hand.
I turned my eyes to him and tilted my head. Like the coward he was, he lowered the weapon.
“You’re… Marcus Holden’s son?”
It surprised me that it wasn’t Nick or one of the other men asking. The question came from Clay at my back, and his fingers wrapped around my wrist, his thumb brushing my pulse.
“Yeah. I am.” Without missing a beat, I turned to Nick. “And I’m taking him with me. You want someone to buy your goods, fine. But I’m not trusting your dogshit judgment to sell him, and I sure as shit don’t trust you to break him in.”
Before they had a chance to question me, I shifted my wrist so my fingers looped through Clay’s.
Something sparked in my chest — the lines between my digits fit perfectly with his. We interlinked like pieces of a puzzle, perfectly aligned.
“Come on.” I pulled him behind me and up the stairs before he had a chance to argue.
Chapter 3
Clay
Icould have killed him. I thought about pulling the blade out of my boot when Jayce put his hand on my face, but there was something in his eyes, something about how soft the pad of his thumb felt playing against my lower lip…
And then there was the little fact that he was the kid of the man I was sent to kill. I could appreciate he was saving me from a fate that was obviously horrible in his eyes. He couldn’t know I would have killed every man in that room before I let them touch me. They all looked as low as he described them — I wasn’t trading myself for information they didn’t have.
The way Jayce spoke, half the people who worked under Marcus Holden didn’t really know who he was.
I suddenly understood why I'd had so much trouble gathering the intel I needed, and why nothing I’d read ever mentioned he had a son.
It posed a problem, because it meant Marcus was far more clever than we’d originally thought. With the way he ran his business, and men like Nick as a front to one of his locations, I was hoping he’d be sloppy. I’d been told he would be in a meeting, and I’d assumed it would be the one where he was acquiring a new asset. I’d been prepared to offer my services in whatever capacity necessary to get him alone, because I had strict rules.
Either you kill your target when they're isolated, or you eliminate everyone at the location.
It hadn’t been an issue initially. I was ready to take out Nick and any of his greasy friends without hesitation. Now, I wasn’t willing to admit why my mind had shifted.
It had nothing to do with the monster of a man sitting beside me, so tall his dark hair nearly brushed the roof of his car, and so muscled his biceps bulged just from holding his steering wheel.
I could appreciate that he’d tried to protect me, and I told myself that was why I’d been willing to hesitate when it came to wiping out everyone in the garage. When I’d learned Marcus wasn’t even there, I was ready to commit to that fate…
