There was so much more he longed to say to this man, but he knew his time for getting out alive was dwindling.Still…
He punched him in the jaw, taking precious seconds to enjoy his head snapping back before running for the door.Instead of going down, he took a deep breath and headed up.There was no point in calling the cops, not unless he wanted to have deaths on his conscience.
Dashing up three flights, he headed for the roof and kicked open the door.Checking his position, he ran for the far side and pulled up short.
Fuck me.
He had to jump.Stepping away from the edge, he tucked his sidearm in the back of his jeans and rubbed his chest, which still fucking hurt from the beatdown he’d taken from Dusan’s idiot son.It was going to hurt.
One last deep breath and he ran for the edge, launching himself off at the last possible second.Arms flailing as he bridged the gap, he grunted in pain as he landed and rolled.
Weapon in hand again, he ran for the access door.It was locked.Finding a pipe not far away, he wrenched the piece from its housing and smashed off the outside doorknob.When the chassis and spindle fell, he spun the pipe then punched through the borehole, sending rest of the components through to fall inside.Without the rest of the structure holding it secure, the latch assembly was barely any resistance for him to get inside.
Sweat dripped down his body as he finally made it back to the first floor.Yep, he could use a few more weeks of recovery before doing shit like this again.He glanced out the door before slipping out and heading up the street away from the shitshow to cross the street and go down behind the apartments and up the alley.Thankfully it was full of dumpsters that he could dip behind as he moved to the end he needed to be at.
Peering around the corner, he sucked in a breath.“Fucking hell.”
The street was basically empty, as he figured happened in the Old West when gunslingers were facing off.Two dark SUVs were at angles, blocking the street and leaving an opening between the building he was in the alley of and the one he’d been hiding in.
But that wasn’t what pulled the curse from his lips.Dusan stood in the middle of the street, a bleeding Robert on his left and Mark on his right with Dusan’s muscle making a half circle around him.Ensuring Lance wasn’t getting away.
Not that he looked like he was up to go anywhere fast.No, Lance figured when Jasmine had brought him to the safehouse after his ass had been kicked, he looked similar.
“Come out, Lance Beckner, and I will spare their lives.”
Right.Surehe would.
Michal strolled into view, his black shirt opened, showing off his pathetic chest.“I don’t see him.”He pulled his gun and aimed it at Robert.“You said he was here with you.”
The Fed sneered.“He is.It’s not my fault you couldn’t find him.From what I understand you can’t find your asshole and have to have your bodyguards do it for you.”
Digging for his phone, Lance stepped back into the shadows and dialed a number that had been listed as Booty Call in his phone.I should have done this sooner.He sent a text and took a deep breath before following that up with a call and shoving the phone in his back pocket.Then he stepped into view.
Jasmine ignored the blood sliding over the back of her hand as she lay upon the roof.The angle wasn’t perfect, but she did have a bead on the scum-sucking Dusan Jakovich.
She was well on her way—broken heart and all—to increasing the distance between her and Lance Beckner, or Baldwin.He’d made his decision and as much as she wanted to hate him for it, she couldn’t.Did she trust him now?After all, he’d made his stance clear and again, maybe if she weren’t dealing with her own broken heart, she would be angry.
I should have known.I don’t get a happily ever after.
It was called paying her dues.She’d been a shit person for many years and she had penance to deal with.However, her California exit had been waylaid as she’d gotten to Mark’s apartment to say her farewells in time to see him getting dragged away by Dusan’s men and shoved into the back of a black SUV.
Sorrow had instantly shoved to the back of her thoughts as anger and the need for vengeance rose swiftly.The man had tried to have her killed, she gotten over it.He wasn’t the first.He’d tried to have Lance killed.Upsetting?Yes, but the man was an undercover cop.It wasn’t the first time for him either.
But her friend?Single father?Hell to the fuck no.
Scorched earth was a saying.And that bastard was going to get to see it up close and personal.She’d followed, her unease growing as she’d realized where their destination was going to be.Hopping out a block away, she’d tossed cash at the driver and began to jog.
It hadn’t taken too much for her to make her way up to the roof of the building she entered then to jump across to get to the one she needed to be at, her bag slamming into her back and shoulder with each jump.
Positioned as she was where the shadow wouldn’t give away her location, she peeked over the edge of the roof, making sure Dusan was still in her line of sight.Gaze zeroing in on Mark and his beaten body as he somehow stood there.
“Damn it, Mark, why didn’t you just tell them what they wanted to know?”Her words were laced with tears she refused to allow free.He never failed to try to protect her.
This was all her fault.Because she’d brought him in when she needed help with Lance.And that man had repaid her loyalty by siding with the Fed who had betrayed them all.
Her phone buzzed against her hip and she lowered herself from view and dug it out to stare at the number.No one should have this number other than Lance and Mark.
She didn’t recognize it.But the area code did ring familiar in her mind.Wisconsin.
