“I’m sorry about Viktor too.” Holding her gaze, Natalie asked, “Are you doing okay?”
Emma shrugged and took a deep, shuddering breath. She couldn’t afford to get sucked under by the guilt right now. “I’ll feel better if these files help us stop Renfro Warner.”
“Let’s take a look—”
Faint popping noises came from the hallway, followed by an enraged howl.
A fucking reporter. After leaving the condo, Jason stalked toward the elevator, his left leg throbbing the way it often did after a run, the still-healing muscles complaining about the quick moves he’d made to catch the blonde. But, at the moment, his ego hurt worse.
Emma wasn’t the first woman to cozy up to him in order to get something. An introduction to someone more important, bragging rights, whatever. They rarely wanted Jason Chin, the flesh-and-blood man. They were after The Football Player, The Model, or The PJ. Or more recently, The Bodyguard. They wanted a fantasy, not a real man with feelings, goals, and bad habits.
Given his newer understanding of what had happened with Emma in college, he’d thought she was different. More fool him.
No wonder she didn’t want to be interviewed by the news station. She’d planned to hand her friend the ultimate scoop—her own on-the-scene account of what had happened, possibly revealing Jason’s role and background along with whatever information Viktor had planned to sell on Renfro Warner.
If possible, he frowned harder, rethinking everything Emma had done, seeing every move in a mercenary light. She’d seemed legitimately upset by the man’s death, but how much of that was disappointment over not getting something from him? Had she approached him hoping for a deathbed statement, or because of whatever she thought he’d slipped into Jason’s pocket?
Jason wanted to think that was secondary to her concern for another human, but he didn’t know if she deserved that much credit. She clearly wasn’t the same Emma he’d known in school. Or maybe she was exactly the woman he’d known in college, and she’d played him just as badly then too.Christ. He didn’t know what to believe anymore.
At the elevator, he reached for the call button, but hesitated. Her betrayal had sent him running out the door like a kicked puppy, but something about her story felt off. The notion sat in his brain like a burr.
Hell, what if there really had been something in his pocket and she’d lied about it? It was his job to recover any information that could hurt his client, and if Viktor had been selling secrets about the KML Braun acquisition, that counted.
Fuck. He had to go back.
The elevator dinged, and the doors opened to reveal two white guys with military-short haircuts. The wiry redhead wore a windbreaker and jeans. The other one had dark hair and a wrestler’s build, and wore the same “uniform.”
Given the warm weather, Jason couldn’t help but wonder if the jackets concealed weapons. Old habits…
The men eyeballed him as they filed out of the elevator. Not wanting them to think he was following them, he decided to wait until they reached their destination before returning to Emma.
The redhead took two steps before he stopped and turned. “Hey.”
Jason put a hand on the metal door to keep it from closing and looked at the guy, his senses on full alert as the man’s friend continued walking and approached Emma’s apartment. “What?”
The man’s expression hardened as he reached under his jacket for a silver handgun in a shoulder holster.
Jason dove through the elevator doors.
Pop! Pop! Pop!Silenced bullets lodged in the shiny steel wall opposite from where he crouched in the corner, holding his hand across the threshold to keep the doors from closing. He wasn’t carrying, so he had no easy way to defend himself, but he couldn’t let these guys get to Emma.
The redhead stuck his arm through the door and Jason yanked the man’s fingers back hard, cracking them. The gunman yowled but still managed to force his way inside. Behind him, the doors shut, trapping them together.
Jason went on the attack, kicking the man’s weapon out of his hands and unloading on him with a fast series of punches and knees.
Grunts filled the air as they grappled for control, bouncing off the walls of the tight space.
He twisted to avoid a hard kick meant for his groin, instead taking it on his left thigh. A fiery jolt of pain shot down his leg, as if the rod holding it together had been electrified.Motherfucker.
His grip slipped and the redhead swiftly gained the upper hand, catching him in a headlock.
Jason reached both hands overhead and grabbed the hand behind his neck, bending the fingers back as he yanked the man’s arm down.
His attacker cried out, his hold loosening just enough.
Jason clamped his right hand around the man’s wrist to retain control of that arm, and used his left to jerk away the arm across his throat as he twisted down and out of the hold.
Immediately, he followed up with another flurry of kicks and punches.
