Run This Town 03 - (Watch Me) Unmask You (14 page)

That made two of them. Elias’s body twitched in the aftermath and he hummed as they licked each other. He broke their kiss when his lungs couldn’t hold up any more and didn’t even bother getting out of bed to wash up. He was tired, and fucked out. And he wanted to curl up with Lucky on his chest, their bodies sticking together.

Not the first time. Won’t be the last. He rolled off Lucky and pulled him close. Lucky nosed his shoulder and throat, little inarticulate sounds falling from his throat. They stayed in the silence, with the scent of their sex all around them, until Elias remembered he had something to tell Lucky.

“I gotta go out of town.”

Lucky slid a hand through Elias’s hair. “New client?”

Before signing on with a potential client, Elias had a face to face meeting in order to familiarize himself with who he’d be working with. That also worked as the perfect excuse for when his travels had nothing to do with his firm and everything to do with a job for Stavros. “Yep. It’s in California. Gonna fly out Sunday evening, meet up on Monday bright and early.”

He felt Lucky nod. “Okay.”

“Shouldn’t take more than a couple days.” At least that for him to figure out why the Konstantinous wanted Federal Agent Donovan Cintron dead.

The door clicked shut behind Elias as he stepped fully into the hotel room. He’d thought he’d long discarded his days of subterfuge. Not so much.

“No tails?”

He waited until the overhead blinked on before meeting the eyes of the dark blond man sitting in a plush armchair on the far side of the room. “Not my first rodeo, Dane.”

Dane Hutchins didn’t give much in the way of facial expressions, but somehow Elias knew he hated being referred to by his first name. Elias walked further into the room and went straight to the bar, pouring himself a glass of whiskey. He tossed it back then spun to face Dane. He hadn’t moved, and his gaze, always so Goddamn knowing, stayed on Elias.

“What?”

“How’s the family? Had a nice anniversary?” If he sounded jealous, that would be Elias’s mistaken impression. If Dane’s gunmetal gray eyes held a secret longing, it was in Elias’s best interest to pretend he didn’t witness that slip in the federal agent’s armor.

“Are we going to talk about me instead of why the Konstantinous want your agent dead?” Elias poured himself another drink. Dealing with Dane always drove him to drink.

“Isn’t this what friends do, ask about family and shit?”

Elias snorted as he leaned against the bar, gaze on the liquid in his glass. “Do you have friends, Dane?” He looked up. “Because you don’t strike me as the type to allow any kind of familiarity.”

Eyes ever blank, face smooth as glass, Dane held his gaze. “You would know, right?”

Before Elias could correct that assumption, the door opened again. He tensed as a figure came through the open doorway clad in a black hooded sweater that covered his head, ragged jeans and ratty sneakers. Their visitor had both hands shoved into his pockets, shoulders hunched as he stood there, flinching when the door clicked closed.

Oh, talk about a bad feeling.

“You’re late.” No inflection in the words Dane spoke, but their visitor’s head shot up, red eyes glaring.

“Fuck you, too, Dutch.” Donovan Cintron’s eyes were glassy, his face—what Elias could see behind all that scruff—was a pale, sweaty mess.

“Hello, Donovan.”

Donovan stiffened and his head whipped around to where Elias stood. Three times he’d seen the agent since that time in Sag Harbor and despite having saved his life, Donovan never looked happy to see him. Now, the man looked like he was about to pass out at the sight of Elias. His eyes went wide and Elias saw his nostrils flare, saw his chest rise and fall rapidly.

Shame, fear and disgust flashed in Donovan’s eyes. Maybe Elias would feel that way upon coming face to face with the man who’d witnessed him at his worst, who’d seen him be abused, debased and unmanned. But Donovan couldn’t know just how alike they were. If he’d allow it Elias would share just how much they had in common. From the panic in his eyes though, Donovan wanted nothing from him.

“What’s he doing here?” Donovan turned to Dane, accusation in his eyes, in his voice. His stance ready for flight or fight.

“If you’d have remained on the line long enough when I called you would have known why.” Dane looked him up and down, and even Elias felt dirty and used up under the disapproving perusal.

Donovan’s jaw ticked and he gave Elias his back as he spoke to Dane. “I don’t have time for your shit, Dutch. Tell me why the fuck he’s here so I can get back to the job you’re paying me to do.”

Elias frowned. Donovan was working in that condition? What the hell was Dane thinking? “I’m here for you,” he told Donovan who chuckled.

“Yeah?” He didn’t face Elias when he spoke. “The ring on your finger says you’re taken, but that’s never stopped me. I’m game, wouldn’t mind hearing you scream my name at least once.”

Lips quirking, Elias walked over to him, careful not to get too close. “I’m flattered, but only one man makes me scream. You’re not him. What you are,” he said softly, “is my next target.”

Still refusing to look at him, Donovan cocked his head. “What?”

“Our friend here—” Dane motioned to Elias—“has been hired to kill you.”

Donovan moved then, meeting Elias’s gaze over his shoulder. “That’s a first. And they sent the best, too. I think I’m flattered.” His tone was flat, noncommittal, eyes dead.

“I want to know why,” Elias told him.

Donovan barked a laugh. “Why? What does that matter?” He turned fully and advanced on Elias, fists balled at his sides, tone shaky. “You think because you pulled me out of that hell hole we’re somehow friends? You think I owe you something? Do your fucking job.” His voice rose. “Kill me.” His eyes came alive then, just for Elias to see the plea in their depths, the hope that Elias would take him up on that offer, would do what he’d been sent to do.

Donovan Cintron wanted to die.

“I’ll have to deny that lovely request,” Elias murmured. “Much as it pains me.”

Disappointment flared in Donovan’s eyes before he wiped it away with a blink and a smirk. “Yeah. Bet you that refusal pains me more, though.” He glanced back at Dane who watched them closely. “We done here, chief?”

“I’ll be in contact,” Dane told him, and Donovan headed to the door.

As he stepped through, Elias called out to him. “Donovan.” The agent stopped, but he didn’t look at Elias. “Keep your head down.”

“Why? It’s not as if you’re gonna do anything.” And he was gone with a soft click of the door.

Elias rounded on Dane. “You have him working undercover again? In that fucking condition? What the fuck, Dane?”

Dane didn’t bat an eyelash. “He’s a professional.”

Elias stared at him. “The fuck? Did we not just see the same thing there? He’s suicidal, Dane. That guy is searching for death any way and any place he can.”

“Are you going to be the one to grant him his wish?”

He’d known the first time he’d met Dane Hutchins that he was a cold bastard. After dealing with Stavros Elias knew cold, but the guy in front of him gave his ex a serious run for his money. “Your backers know how you run your crew?”

Dane sat back in his chair, breath whistling from his nostrils. He kept his stare on Elias’s face, eyes growing colder than Elias had ever seen. “My backers expect me to get the job done any means necessary. I’m sure you know how that goes. They—and you—know better than to question my methods.”

Elias shook his head as he sat in a chair. “Fuck, man. Do you know how heartless you sound right now?”

Dane smiled, probably the first time Elias had ever seen him do that. He hoped it was the last. “Maybe, but I’m sure I’m nowhere near your level of cold. Or are we forgetting?” He lifted an eyebrow.

Elias easily understood why Donovan had looked like he wanted to level Dane with a fist. “I really regret our association, you know that?”

“I assure you the feeling is wholeheartedly mutual.”

Elias rolled his eyes. “Now that we’ve declared our undying love, can we get to why Donovan is a marked man?”

“Maybe your ex knows the true story behind why Van’s still alive.” Dane held Elias’s gaze. “Maybe Stavros knows you gave Seraphina the means to escape death while you rescued a federal agent.”

“I doubt that. Give me something else.” Elias just held his gaze until Dane sighed.

“Senator Mark Dulles.”

The name was familiar. The republican Senator had recently won a second term in the midterm elections. A victory when the press had all but called the race for his younger, way more popular opponent. Dulles was seen as too conservative, too set in his ways, too controversial with his very outspoken opposition for Immigration reform, Gay rights, and anything that seemed to help the poor and middle class.

But Elias didn’t know him because of his politics. Nope. The Senator was a close associate of Haimon Konstantinou. Elias had been with elder Konstantinou while he’d met with Dulles on more than one occasion.

He frowned at Dane. “What about Dulles?”

“Van is his son.”

There really were no coincidences in his life, were there? Elias stretched out his legs and sat back in his chair, making himself comfortable as he bid Dane, “Go on.”

“Word is Dulles is putting together a committee in hopes of throwing his hat in the ring for the presidency, and wants to distance himself from a certain Greek acquaintance.” Dane shrugged. “Killing his son might send a message.” He glanced away then back at Elias. “Dulles is also the one who helped me put my operation, this operation, together.”

Well fuck.

****

The noise—the sound of glass breaking—lifted Lucky’s head from the pillows. He remained still in the dark of his bedroom and listened. Nothing happened, and he heard nothing from the monitor to indicate Maddie was up so he dropped his head back down.

Getting to sleep was always a struggle in the big, cold bed when Elias was out of town. Lucky didn’t like sleeping alone, he never did, and he was so used to the body of his husband being in bed with him that on the few times when he wasn’t, it was difficult to deal with.

He huffed out a frustrated breath and rolled back onto his left side. Damn it.

Maybe he should call Elias again. They’d communicated via video call earlier in the evening while Lucky fed Maddie. Elias had told him he’d be having drinks with his potential client. And it was now— He cast a glance at the clock at his bedside table. 1:10 a.m. What did that translate to on the West Coast? 10 p.m.?

Elias might still be in his meeting. Lucky couldn’t bother him with his 
can’t go to sleep
 bullshit.

He rolled onto his stomach and growled into the firm pillow. Maybe he should get up, get his sketch pad and try to draw something. That usually helped when things got—

A sound reached his ears. Not what he’d heard earlier, glass, but something… else. Something grating against the floor? Maybe the sound furniture makes when sliding across polished wood floors.

Lucky lurched upright and grabbed his phone before getting off the bed and tiptoeing to the bedroom door. It wasn’t closed, left slightly ajar so he stood behind it and listened.

It couldn’t possibly be what he was thinking. There wasn’t someone in the house. No. But his heartrate had sped up and he couldn’t breathe right suddenly.

Stairs creaked. Their stairs. The—the step fourth from the bottom did that. All the time.

Someone was in the house. His hand was shaking. Fuck, his entire body quaked as he stared at the phone in his hand. His mind screamed at him to do something.
Call 911. Elias.
But his fingers froze, refusing to cooperate.

More creaking snapped his mind into focus and he raced across the room, thankful that their bedroom floor was carpeted. The adjoining door leading into Maddie’s bedroom was opened so he went in there and locked it behind him, heart in his throat. He flicked the light on, head swinging this way and that. His daughter slept fitfully, making adorable chuffing sounds when she exhaled.

His daughter, here, asleep, while people were in their house.

Jesus. He dialed 911.

Before the person started talking he was whispering, giving them his address. “There are people in my house. Please, send help.”

“Sir, what—”

He ended the call then hit speed dial for Elias. He brought it to his ear as he stared down at Maddie. The phone shook, knocking against his cheek.

“Come on. Come on.” He grabbed onto the edge of Maddie’s crib, squeezing it as the phone rang. Whispers drifted closer to him. They were on the top level of the house. “Pick up. Elias, fucking pick up.”

“Lucky.”

The words burst from him when he heard Elias’s voice. “There are people in the house. Elias.” He didn’t know how he managed to speak over the tremors. “There are people in our house.”

One beat. “Where are you?” Elias’s tone was different. Alert. Crisp. Calm. Way too calm for what Lucky was telling him.

“Maddie’s room.” A door slammed down the hall, and he flinched. “They’re coming,” he whispered. “Elias.” The helplessness was…overpowering.

“Listen to me,” Elias said softly, quickly. “Pay attention, Lucky. I’m so fucking sorry.”

Lucky frowned. “Wha—”

“There’s a gun taped under the crib, Lucky. It’s loaded. No time for questions. Point and you fucking shoot whoever comes through that door. Just like I taught you.” Someone was talking to Elias, a man’s deep voice came through in the background, but Elias kept talking, firing off those confusing words. “Lucky.”

“The cops.” Lucky shook his head to clear the confusion. “I called them. They should be coming.”

“Help is on the way,” Elias barked. “You need me and I can’t be there to protect you and Maddie, but Lucky, get that gun.”

Lucky dropped to one knee and ran a hand under the bottom of the crib until he came in contact with something solid. He yanked it away and stared. A gun. “Why— Why is there a gun under Maddie’s crib?”

A crash drowned out whatever Elias was saying. Maddie’s bedroom door splintered and broke in two. Men poured into the room, three, four. Lucky fumbled with the gun. The tape was still on and he couldn’t—

A pain in his upper right arm made him jerk. He looked down at the spot, watched the red hole in his arm right under the sleeve of his gray t-shirt. “No.”