I heard the soft fumf of something heavy falling on the bed.
“Now get this fuckin’ thing off me!” the man snapped.
“Memphis!” Sam called sharply, the noises Memphis was making stopped, I heard her claws clicking then I heard another soft fumf on the bed and I knew Memphis was moving toward Sam. “On your knees, hands up, palms to me, fingertips at your ears,” Sam ground out then came a barked, “Do it. Now!”
Oh God, oh God, oh God!
“Kia, up,” Sam rumbled.
Immediately I got up. Sam was reaching across the bed toward something at the same time he had his head back and his eyes and gun trained on the dark shadow of a man on his knees across the room.
“Get me some shorts,” Sam ordered.
I didn’t delay. Sam was standing there naked holding a man a gunpoint. I could see this would be uncomfortable.
I hurried across the room, opened a drawer, grabbed a pair of his shorts, left the drawer open and ran back to him. He handed me his gun and I took it without dropping it even though holding a recently fired therefore clearly loaded and deadly weapon freaked me way the fuck out.
“He moves, you even think he’s gonna move, shoot,” Sam instructed.
“Right,” I whispered and now it was me who was aiming my eyes and a gun at the man on his knees.
Sam took the shorts from me and in about two seconds he took the gun back from me.
I just stopped myself from heaving a sigh of relief.
“Turn on the light,” Sam demanded.
I turned on the light. Then I saw Memphis in reaching distance so I snagged her off the bed and cuddled her to my chest.
“Behind me, stay there.” Sam kept the commands coming and I kept doing as I was told.
Then I peered around him at a man with nice hair cut, khaki pants and a golf shirt. He was slim, fit and very alert.
And, lastly, I guessed he was my hit man.
“My next directive to my woman is dialin’ nine, one, one. You got two minutes to talk me outta that,” Sam told the man.
“We need a chat,” the man told Sam.
“I’m guessin’ that since you breached my security system and approached with your gun not at the ready, the fuckin’ safety on. Now you got a minute and a half for your chat. Don’t waste more,” Sam returned.
“I need assurances,” the man stated.
“Think your broker gave you those,” Sam retorted.
“Need them direct from you. I do not need Tanner Layne on my ass. Man’s bad enough but he comes with fuckin’ Ryker and he’s a pain in the ass. Now both ‘a them come with a man named Devin Glover who’s a serious fuckin’ pain in the ass. I want it direct from your lips, I stand down; you give the order for those assholes to stand down.”
“You already got that through your broker,” Sam told him, clearly losing patience.
“Yeah, well Layne, Ryker and Glover are pains in the ass but I’ve had the opportunity to look into Nightingale and I need to know him and his fuckin’ whack jobs in Denver won’t get a wild hair and go on a mission just for shits and giggles,” the man shot back.
“Don’t control Lee or his boys,” Sam stated. “My advice to you, now you’re on their radar, don’t do anything to piss them off. Further advice, you already done somethin’ that would piss them off, you disappear and do it really well.”
“Fuck!” the man exploded and I jumped then I pressed Memphis and I closer to Sam’s back.
Sam didn’t move.
The man started bitching.
“That cunt didn’t pay me to put up with this kind of fuckin’ headache.”
“You made a bad career choice. These are your consequences. Now do not stand there wastin’ my time. I’m givin’ you a good deal and you fuckin’ know it. As much as it shits me to allow it, a deal’s a deal and the deal is, you stand down, you walk outta here and breathe free. You got ten seconds to decide. At eleven, I’m incapacitating you and then you’re goin’ down another way.”
“I’ll stand down,” the man said immediately.
Sam sucked in an audible breath.
Then he was silent for three seconds (I counted).
Then he said with very scary, very quiet menace, a tone that, even knowing him and how he really was, sent chills up my spine, “Anything ever happens to her, ever, I will find you, I will hurt you and in the end you will beg me to kill you.”
I pressed closer to Sam.
The man held Sam’s eyes but, cold-blooded killer for hire in a golf shirt or not, his face had paled.
Then he nodded.
“Get out,” Sam ordered.
He nodded again.
Then he asked, “Can I have my gun?”
Sam didn’t speak and I wasn’t in a position to see his face but whatever look he gave the man, it worked. Instantly, the man got to his feet, turned and moved quickly out the door.
Sam turned and looked down at me.