His Alone (For Her #2)

“The only thing I want is you dead.”


“Why?” He takes a step back, but there is nowhere to go.

“I told you that already. I’m here for Paige.”

He studies me for a second, trying to get a read on me, but I give him nothing. “She hired you?”

“No.”

He lets out a humorless laugh. “You love her.” His tone suggests it’s the stupidest thing in the world. An emotion I’m sure he can’t comprehend. “You came here to kill the father of the woman you love? How romantic”

“The only reason I haven’t killed you yet is because I thought maybe the plans Miles had for you would be enough. But after hearing her talk about you, the pain I see in her eyes, the anger and fear there…I know only one thing will do. She didn’t have to ask me to do it. I wanted to make sure I got to you before she did. I wasn’t letting your filth touch her ever again. I won’t let anything touch her.”

“You think you’re any different than me? You kill to get what you want. It’s the same. We just want different things.”

“Maybe so.” I shrug, because on some level this is true. I’d do anything for Paige if it made her smile. “She wants you dead, so be it.” With that, I pull the trigger. His body drops to the ground, and I only pray that with this, my kitten finds some peace. I stand there wondering if this will be enough to win her back. I tuck the gun away. I’ll find a way or I’ll die trying.

I see a movement out of the corner of my eye, and I freeze. Paige is there with a gun in her hand. It’s down by her side, and she’s looking at me with tears in her eyes. She’s seen it all. Heard it all.

I’m angry that she’s here and that she’s put herself in what could be a harmful situation. She’s had to see another one of her parents die. Even if she hated him, I didn’t want her to have this memory branded into her brain, too. I didn’t want any of this to touch her. Seeing her makes every protective instinct I have push forward. I want to shield her from this dark, ugly world.

“Kitten,” I whisper, and I want to run to her and take her in my arms, but don’t know if she’ll let me.

Her father lies dead between us, blood coating the dirty floor, and I don’t know if she can look at me after this. It’s one thing to want him dead and to wish for it to happen. It’s another to see the man you love doing it. That is, if she still loves me.

“Captain.”

She runs to me, throwing herself in my arms and sobbing. I can feel her worry and fear melt away with every breath. I hold her tight and carry her out of this place. Away from the darkness and all the evil that can never touch her again.

I take her out to the car and set her down, pulling my gun out and placing it in her lap. “Wait here, kitten. I need to finish this.”

Her eyes are wild, but she nods and holds my weapon. She watches me as I go to the trunk and pull out the gas can and walk back to the building. “The books. Get the books,” she says, making me turn to look at her. I debate it for a second before setting the can down and running back inside. I grab them off the table. When I get back to the car, I hand them to her. I pick up the gas can again and pour it around the perimeter and then throw the container inside. Standing back, I grab the Zippo out of my back pocket and light it up.

“This is for her, you sorry bastard.”

I grab a piece of trash and light it. I look at the flame and make sure it’s caught before I throw it onto the waiting gas and watch the building ignite. I turn and walk away. No one will look into this too much, because they were all known criminals. And if anyone does decide to dig, I’ve still got enough pull to make it go away. Nobody is going to miss that piece of shit, and this world will be a better place without the filth he brought to it.

When I get into the car, I reach over and pull Paige onto my lap. It’s dangerous, and probably illegal, but I drive back to our building with her in my arms. I’ll be damned if I ever let her go again.





Chapter Twenty-Seven


Paige



* * *





“WHERE ARE WE GOING?” I ask, burying my face back in his neck when we get in the elevator and he hits the button to the wrong floor. I can’t let him go. I never want to let him go again.

“I need to show you something.”

It’s late, and we’ve both been through so much. I’m drained. I don’t know if I can handle much more, but I’ll be strong. For him and for me. For us. And at this point, he could take me anywhere and I would go without a fight. After tonight I’m his.

He carried me from the car and refused to put me down since. The doors open, and he walks out with me in his arms as he goes to a door. He unlocks it, and once we are inside, he sets me down and closes it behind us.

The place is sparse, but I can tell right away it’s his. The smell of rosewood and clean linen makes me smile. This is his home. There’s not a lot of furniture and no pictures anywhere, so it doesn’t take me long to see everything. I turn to him. It doesn’t feel like a home at all.

Captain takes a deep breath and pulls me down the hallway to a door. He pushes it open and then steps aside, letting me walk in. My hands go to my mouth as I see thousands of pictures of me.

“What is this?” I ask, looking at him and then at the pictures. Some from right before I went to college, around the time Miles found me; some from my college years. I take up every inch of his walls.

“I barely graduated from high school when the CIA got ahold of me. I’d shown interest in going into the marines, and they swooped in and grabbed me. I wasn’t with them long when they started pushing me underground. My target―Alexander Owens.”