Photo Finish (2 page)

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Authors: Kris Norris

Tags: #Contemporary Romance

BOOK: Photo Finish
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Paige shifted just as another car rolled into view, the dark color melding perfectly with the night. The glow from the headlights cast the men into harsh relief, blinding her for a second, before the car turned and parked beside the first. The engine shut off, leaving an eerie void in the air. She panned out a bit, wanting to get a shot of both cars when the passenger-side doors opened and two men stepped out of the back. They were dressed in expensive suits with distinctive bulges under their jackets, which shifted beneath the fabric as they made their way to the front of the car. Tate’s men greeted them with a nod and a glare, their arms now crossed over their wide chests. She clicked a few photos of the new arrivals, waiting to see how long it’d take for Tate to slither from the car.

A few minutes passed before Tate’s door opened and he stepped out, adjusting his jacket as he moved toward the gathering of men. He stopped slightly behind the front of the vehicle and cast a backwards glance her way. Her fingers trembled slightly as she stared at the man who’d taken her lover’s life. Fear and anger bubbled inside her, and it was all she could do to snap his picture without screaming. He smirked as if he knew she was there before shifting his gaze to the other car. Slowly, the back door opened again, and another man stepped out. He was tall and thin, with ghostly pale skin that seemed to glow in the hallowed light. He carried a large briefcase in one hand as the other rested on his hip.

Gun…

The thought rolled her stomach, but she kept hitting the button, documenting every step the guy took. He stopped the same distance away, keeping his men between him and Tate. Tate smiled, a sickly turn of his lips that made his entire face crinkle with lines. Though many would consider him handsome, with his salon-styled brown hair, designer clothes and gym-worthy body, all she saw was the darkness that never quite left his eyes.

She zoomed in as the men both rounded the cars, stepping inside the circle of men. Tate and the new guy moved forward, exchanging a handshake before Tate nodded at the briefcase. The guy scrutinized Tate’s men, then turned so he could place the attaché case on the hood of his car. Paige held her breath as his hands disappeared on the far side of the case before the lid hinged upward, further obscuring her view.

She cursed. “Turn the damn thing around.”

The guy’s fingers gripped the edge, and as if by her command, he rotated the briefcase, giving both her and Tate a clear view of the stacks of money layered inside.

Her breath left her lungs in a long exhalation as she watched Tate examine the cash. She panned back, catching his smug smile as he raised one bundle and flipped through it, nodding when the dark-skinned man moved forward and escorted the buyer to the back of Tate’s car. The trunk levered open, exposing a large box. She kept shooting as the bodyguard removed a rifle and handed it to the other man.

A large ball of emotion filled her chest when she realized she’d done it…captured the bastard in the act. Sweat beaded her brow and she zoomed out so she could get a shot with Tate in the frame. She hadn’t missed the way he’d remained at the front of the car. Whether it was to maintain some semblance of innocence or because he felt he was above the scum who purchased his weapons, she wasn’t sure, but she wasn’t going to let him escape.

She continued photographing as the buyer turned the weapon over before handing it back and nodding at the guard. The trunk slammed shut and the men rejoined Tate at the front. Paige watched as his lips moved and he motioned at the cash. She thought she picked up something about tomorrow night, but he stepped back just as she thought she’d get the rest of the sentence, hiding behind the guy she’d admired earlier.

Even now, he looked familiar and she wished he’d just turn toward her. He seemed to sense her urgency and did the opposite, presenting his ass again. Paige felt the same strange stirring in her groin, as if she were preparing to take him inside. But her heart only wanted one man, and unless she discovered a way to make love to a ghost, it wasn’t going to happen.

“I’d settle for his ghost,” she whispered feeling the truth of the statement seep into her soul.

He’d been more than her lover. He’d been the other half of her life.

The purr of an engine shook her from her thoughts and she looked back through the lens just as the second car backed up, and disappeared beyond the pallets. She shifted to the other vehicle, hoping to get a few last pictures before the group vanished into the night. She caught Tate ducking into the backseat, his face still twisted into an evil smile. More bile rose in her throat, but she swallowed it, knowing he’d soon be behind bars once she’d had a chance to download the images onto her laptop.

The car sprang to life, casting two cylinders of light across the warehouse. Boxes and more pallets shimmered into sight as the car idled in front of the large building, the rumble of the engine vibrating through the ground. She cursed, knowing she’d lost her one chance to catch a glimpse of the bodyguard when he walked out of the darkness and headed for the car. She sucked in a quick breath, taking the shot before she’d sealed the camera to her eye. What she saw stole her breath.

Colored dots flitted across her vision as the scenery took a sharp nose-dive. She braced a hand against the drums, glancing through the camera one last time. Surely she’d only imagined…

He’d made his way to the car and had stopped as he’d grabbed the handle, his gaze finally meeting hers across the distance. Her fingers pressed the button a moment before the camera slipped from her grasp and swung against her chest. Pain sparked through her ribs, but all she could do was sink back against the rusted metal. She’d wished for a ghost, and it looked as if she’d gotten far more than she’d bargained for.

Special Agent Brogan Johnson climbed into the car, slamming the door shut as he ran his fingers through his cropped hair. The ends rubbed across his palms, soothing some of his pent-up tension. Leo glared at him from the driver’s side, grunting so Brogan would do more than look at him out of the corner of his eye.

He turned, returning the man’s sneer. “What?”

“We just made the deal of the century. Why the hell do you look so fucking pissed off?”

Brogan motioned toward the back before looking out the window. “Tate said we were making the drop tonight…that it’d all be tied up by midnight. Now he’s decided to make the transfer tomorrow. It’s bad enough he changes meeting times at the drop of a hat, now we’re stuck here for another day. I’m getting a bit…impatient.”

Leo shrugged as he shoved the gearshift into reverse and backed up. “So it’s one more night. Who cares? We stand to make a killing on this shipment. Besides, Tate’s just covering his ass. Ever since that photojournalist—Paige Sommers—started poking her nose into his business, he’s been more cautious.” Leo grinned and turned onto the main road. “I’ve heard she’s a lone ranger of sorts…always gets her man.” He chuckled, a deep sound that immediately put Brogan on the defensive. “From the pictures I’ve seen of her, she can get
this man
anytime.”

Anger flared through his veins and it was all he could do not to reach over and slam Leo’s head through the window. Instead, he laughed back and slapped the man on the shoulder. “She’s way out of your league,
buddy
.”

“How do you know?” Leo rubbed his arm as he glowered at Brogan. “You hiding something?”

Leo had meant it as a joke, but there’d been a slight waver in his tone that sent a chill down Brogan’s spine. He couldn’t let what would look like irrational jealousy blow his cover…not after all he’d given up to get this close to Tate.

He smirked as he pushed back against the seat. “You’re kidding me, right? If you’ve seen pictures of her then you know she’s hot, and well you, buddy…you’re not the prettiest thing walking around.”

Leo laughed, hitting the breaks as the light changed in front of him. “Hey, I might not be pretty, but I could give her the fucking of a lifetime, and she looks like she needs a man to fuck some of that
goodness
out of her.” He smiled at Brogan. “One night with me, and she’d be finding buyers for us.”

Not in a million years, asshole.

Brogan bit back the comment before he said it aloud. There was absolutely no harm in letting Leo think he’d have a chance with Paige, not when Brogan knew differently. She’d never allow someone who worked for scum like Tate to touch her—not that she wasn’t a hellcat in bed—she just had certain lines she wouldn’t cross. And fucking weapons dealers was one of them.

“You just keep telling yourself that, Leo.” He smiled at the man’s growl. “Maybe your fairy godmother will grant your wish.”

“Or maybe I’ll just look her up and invite myself over,” he said, cursing the next light that brought the car to a stop. “What the fuck is it with these damn lights? I swear, we’ve caught every one.”

Brogan chose to ignore his taunting and took a soothing breath. “Relax. It’s not like we’ve got anywhere to go now…Tate’s secured our services for another night. Might as well—”

His voice cut off as the whine of a motorcycle drowned out even the radio. He shot Leo a puzzled look and turned to glare out the window. Whoever was driving that machine was way too close. Brogan stared through the glass as the driver rolled into view, the mirror on the bike knocking theirs. Irritation he’d been holding back resurfaced and he lowered the window to tell the idiot to learn how to drive, when the driver turned toward him. Brogan’s reflection shimmered back at him through the tinted visor, but he knew he was being scrutinized. Fear gripped his gut as the hidden eyes continued to stare at him, as if looking into his soul. A name stuck on his tongue a second before the cycle’s engine revved and the bike took off, skidding through the intersection as the driver dodged the moving traffic, narrowly missing a bumper. Horns and squealing tires blasted the air as motorcycle barreled down the street, disappearing around the next corner.

“What the fuck?” yelled Leo.

Brogan forced down a swallow, praying to god he was wrong. He turned to speak when the glass behind them lowered. He looked in the rearview, hating the sight of Tate’s beady little eyes staring back at him.

Tate raised an eyebrow. “I don’t suppose either of you got the license plate of that motorcycle?”

Brogan glanced at Leo, cursing under his breath when the man handed Tate a slip of paper through the opening. Tate took the offering, his lips curling into a feral smile.

“Excellent. We’ll have our friends at the station run this. I have a feeling that was more than just a coincidence.” He thumbed the paper, chuckling. “I can’t wait to see who this belongs to.”

His face faded into black as the glass rolled into place, shutting him out. Brogan glared at his reflection before looking back at where the bike had vanished from view. He didn’t need to run the plate to know who’d just driven off. He’d recognize that leather jacket and that sexy ass anywhere. Hell, he’d spent over a year watching it wiggle in front of him as he’d followed behind on his own bike. The only question was…what the hell was he going to do now?

Chapter Two

“Fuck!”

Paige killed the engine and glided into a driveway a few houses down from hers. She’d taken every back street home but still wasn’t convinced Tate hadn’t somehow had her followed. She should have gone straight to a hotel, but she needed to grab her laptop.

Tears mixed with anger as she swung her leg off her Honda and parked it beside the garage. Of all the stupid ass stunts to pull…

She cursed her impetuous nature as she darted through yards, hiding behind bushes and plants. She’d been set—had all the evidence she needed to hand Tate over on the proverbial silver platter, but apparently, that hadn’t been enough. She’d spent what had felt like forever staring at the image she’d taken with the camera, trying to decide if it really was Brogan. Then she’d caught up with their car and had all but kicked the door in to get the guy to lower the window. The resemblance was uncanny, though the cropped hair and haunting look in the guy’s eyes had made her think twice. But just the possibility that it could actually be him had pushed her over the edge. How she’d missed hitting that truck as she’d plowed through the intersection was a mystery.

Paige set her jaw and hopped the last fence, keeping her body cloaked in the shadows. The house looked deserted, but that didn’t mean anything. She crept toward the set of French doors on the left side. She’d left her computer on her desk. All she had to do was sneak in, grab it and leave.

She shook her head. She wouldn’t have to worry if she hadn’t been so damn determined to look into his eyes without the camera lens between them.

Pain flared again, but she pushed it away. She could break down at the hotel. Right now, she needed to stay focused. She sprinted across the grass and pressed her back against the wall as she inched her way toward the doors. She fumbled with her keys, cringing at the way they jingled in the still air, before slipping one into the lock, sighing when the bolt disengaged. Paige slowly rotated the handle, praying the door wouldn’t creak, and slipped inside. She groped her way across the floor, finally reaching the oak desk. A noise sounded from somewhere in the house, making her jump.

Shit.

More sounds echoed through the silent room as she moved her hands along the top of the desk, breathing a sigh of relief when the laptop’s smooth surface grazed her fingertips. She wrapped her fingers around the edge and dragged it back when a rough hand snaked around her mouth.

A scream caught in her throat but vanished with her breath when she slammed into her attacker’s hard body. White dots flitted across her vision as his other hand wrapped around her waist, his lips caressing her ear.

“If you want to live, you’ll grab that computer, keep your mouth shut and follow me.”

The voice was darker and deeper than Brogan’s, with a slight Irish accent she’d never heard before. Her stomach dropped when the hopes that she’d actually seen him vanished, replaced by the ever-present emptiness. Paige nodded, praying she’d have one moment when she could kick this guy in the crotch and make a run for it.

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