Real name, fake name? Whatever. “So, Bill, who do you work for?” He crossed his arms over his chest and stepped in front of his parents. “You aren’t part of Consuelo’s dwindling payroll, and I doubt you belong to a rival gang. I imagine they’re pretty damn happy with me.” He cocked his head. “No, you’re freelance with a well-connected employer who leaked my classified information.”
Bill swept his gloved hand over his chin. “Information is always available at the right price—or if someone is pissed.”
“Someone’s pissed at me? Not surprising.”
With luck, these men only knew about the Consuelo case. If someone had leaked details about his past missions, how would he survive the fallout? He dragged in a deep breath to soothe his racing heart. Had these men tracked him from Marissa’s house? How the fuck did they find her place anyway? Only one agent knew where he was staying. If Ackermann betrayed him...no, he couldn’t think like that.
Harold pushed his shaking wife back and stood beside Jarrett. “What the hell is going on? Do you know these bastards?”
“You haven’t told them?” The leader tossed his head back and laughed. “I suppose not. When we found you last night, that sexy little thing in the chair was spreading her legs. I bet you’ve been too busy to explain shit to anyone.”
Crimson seared Marissa’s cheeks. She pulled down the hem of her new dress and drew her knees closer to her chest. The fabric hugged her every curve and rode up her thighs, showcasing her long legs sheathed in black hose and knee-high boots.
Bill smacked his lips. “Damn, I’ll sample that myself before we leave.”
Hell, no. Jarrett shuddered as Bill’s accomplices laughed.
“You never should have come home, Agent Brandt.” Bill cocked his weapon. “Of course, if it weren’t for the traitor, this pissant town would be a great place to hide.”
“Agent?” Harold flicked his gaze between Jarrett and Bill before landing on the latter. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but you have no right to point that blasted gun at my son. Leave. I’m a former police lieutenant. I have connections that will make your head spin.”
Jarrett smiled—he couldn’t help it.
His father had claimed to have no living sons, but now the man defended him. Imagine that. Unfortunately, Harold’s connections didn’t amount to much. Since someone in the DEA had leaked Jarrett’s info, Harold’s old cop buddies didn’t have jurisdiction to help anyway.
Bill scoffed. “Your drug addict son joined the DEA to avoid prison time. The drug kingpin Arlo Consuelo hired us to kill him.”
Harold gaped. His lips moved up and down as though he tried to form words.
Wow. If only he could revel in his dad’s speechlessness.
He clicked his tongue until Bill scowled at him. “You make it sound as though Consuelo personally hired you. News flash, morons—he put out the word foranyoneto take me down. You just lucked out with that snitch.” He rolled his shoulders. “I’m guessing the traitor is DEA and came to you, relinquished needed information, and promised a portion of Consuelo’s payment for my head. You bought that crap?” He laughed as the would-be assassins gawked. “What a bunch of amateurs. If you succeed, the snitch will probably kill you instead of sharing his prize money. He risked a lot by turning against the agency.”
The leader sneered. His accomplices shifted their feet.
“You know what? Go ahead. Kill me.” Jarrett spread his arms wide. “Kill my parents, my woman, and that sweet little boy. Do it. Murder an innocent family. When the snitch kills you as payment, I’ll see you in hell.” He stepped forward as Bill fisted the hilt of his gun so hard that his knuckles whitened. “I’ll get my revenge one way or another if you play that card. Be smart and walk out of here.”
“Fuck you.” Bill pulled the trigger.
