He nodded, taking the dead man’s gun and tucking it behind his back, a knife in hand, and slowly got to his feet, wavering, unsteady.
She frowned and mouthed, “Solene?”
He looked to his room and mouthed back, “Closet.”
Vi nodded and left him.
Deacon stepped out from the hallway into the living area, his knife in hand, and concentrated on what he’d set out to do—kill Romero Burleigh.
The bastard looked as if he’d gone for a stroll in Beverly Hills. He wore a dark suit, red tie, and looked like a million bucks. He twirled a pair of Cartier sunglasses that cost upwards of twenty grand—something Deacon knew because a drug runner on a Laos job had been keen on them—and sat with one ankle over his knee. His dark hair had been cut short, styled, and went with the tan from Burleigh’s time in India.
“Been a long time, Shadow.” Burleigh smiled. “You’re looking as expected. Worn down, sad…weak.”
“Well, well. The rapist is back. How was life in India, fuckhead? Should have stayed there.”
Burleigh’s smile disappeared. He slowly uncrossed his legs and stood, six foot three and still heavily muscled. He removed his jacket and tie and placed them over the couch with care. Then he unbuttoned his shirt sleeves, rolled them up, and toed off his shoes.
“I’d hoped we could do this civilized. I’ll beat you to death, then take the woman. We’ll go our separate ways. I mean, you’ll be dead, but you’ll die knowing I own Solene Hansen.” Burleigh grinned. “I hear she’s a hot fuck. Is that true? I’ve already got more than a few customers interested. No need to answer. I’ll find out for myself soon enough.”
Deacon knew not to fall prey to his own anger, but it wasn’t easy. He had the gun at his back, the knife in hand. Burleigh thought he could taunt Deacon into a bare-knuckled brawl to the death? As tempting as that sounded, Deacon didn’t believe in playing fair. And he knew Burleigh didn’t either.
With his free hand, he withdrew the gun from his back and aimed at Burleigh.
“What’s this? Cheating, Shadow?” Burleigh looked amused, not worried.
Shit.Deacon must have missed something. Burleigh’s backup? Some convoluted plan?
Movement to his right froze him in his tracks.
“Uh-uh.” Vi yanked Solene by the hair, holding Solene in front of her like a full suit of armor. “Sorry, Deacon. You shoot him, she dies.” She held a gun to Solene’s head, and the stark terror on Solene’s face scared him shitless.
“Damn it.” He threw down his gun and dropped the knife, knowing he had to think fast. “You’re working forhim?”
“You could say that.”
Burleigh laughed, his humor a poison that burned. “I learn from my mistakes, Deac.” The chummy reference grated. “Always have a backup plan.” Burleigh walked to Solene, whose hands remained behind her back, obviously secured by the traitor in their midst.
“You know what he does to women,” he said to Vi. “How can you deal with him?”
She shrugged. “A job’s a job. And the pay is incredible.” She grinned, holding Solene by the hair, not letting her move as Burleigh openly fondled her while watching Deacon.
The rage in his woman’s eyes settled him. He had to get her clear before launching at Burleigh. And somehow, they had to get Vi out of the way too.
“Okay, Romero. I did my part.” Vi shoved Solene at him, and as Solene turned, he swore he saw something metallic in her hands.
He kept an angry expression on his face, not sure about anything at the moment, but needing it to play out before he made his move.
“I need the number,” Vi continued. “We made a deal, and I held up my end of the bargain. I took care of Meridia for you. And Big Joe is barely clinging to life as we speak.”
Deacon froze.
Burleigh saw his reaction and laughed. “Did you really think this is all aboutyou?” He laughed harder. “Priceless. What a sorry fuck. This is about so much more than you three assholes.” He glanced at Vi and tossed her a phone. “It’s programmed in. Call him. He’ll tell you himself.”
She nodded. “One more thing.” She looked at Solene, and the disdain on her face shocked him. Deacon had never realized what a good actress she was. “You’re a whore like all the others. It won’t matter what you do or what you say, Romero’s only using you. You’re not one of his angels, and you never could be.”
Vi deliberately turned to an obviously surprised Romero. She kissed him on the cheek. “I always admired you, but I could never tell you, not with eyes and ears always on me.”
He rubbed his cheek, clearly enamored. “When you punch in the number, make sure to use the codeword. You know the one.”
