No Fortunate Son (Pike Logan, #7)(44)

Pike heard Jennifer shout and knew he needed to end the fight now. Still wrestling Overbite for the pistol, he torqued it harshly backward, feeling the man’s fingers snap. He jammed his left thumb into the trigger guard of the pistol and forced the man’s index finger to break the trigger to the rear. The weapon cycled upside down, the round punching through the man’s chest. His eyes flared open and he fell to the floor, releasing the pistol.

Realizing the threat, Ponytail went wild trying to get control of his own gun. He whirled to the left, lifting Jennifer off the ground and slamming her into a wall. She fell and began scrambling backward. He leapt toward Pike, training the barrel for a kill shot. Pike was quicker. A small cough, and the man’s head exploded, the pistol falling to the floor, useless.

Breathing heavy, the pump from the fight racing through her, Jennifer checked to make sure he was truly down. She looked up at Pike and nodded.

Pike went over to the other man, hearing the labored breathing from his chest. Knowing he was near the afterlife. He said, “Who are you? Where is my friend?”

The man said, “Fuck you.”

And died.

Jennifer surveyed the carnage, shaking from the stench of death. The closeness of her mortality. She saw the Asian break from the corner and try to dart from the room. She sprang forward, beating him to the door. He raised a fist and screamed. She parried with her left and ducked under it, driving an uppercut with her whole weight behind the punch, lifting his slight frame off the ground. He collapsed in a daze.

She took a knee on the floor, shaking her hand from the blow and looking at Pike. He checked the chamber of his pistol. Satisfied, he let the slide close.

He walked to the Asian and said, “You still want to sell her, *?”

The man recoiled, pulling himself along the floor, getting away from the specter floating above him. To Jennifer, Pike said, “Search the bodies.”

She started going through Ponytail’s clothing, and Pike bent over the Asian, digging through his pockets. He pulled out a satchel, flipped it open, and glanced at the contents. He closed it and tapped the Asian in the head with the barrel of his newfound weapon. “You talk to anyone about what happened here, you’ll end up just like those two, understand?”

The man nodded, and Pike held up the satchel. “I know who you are. I won’t kill you. That would be too easy. I’ll sell your ass to friends of mine, and you’ll beg for the pain to end.”

The Asian cowered. Pike raised the weapon, saying, “Then again . . .”

His expression was so visceral Jennifer was sure the man was dead.

Don’t do it.

Her earlier conviction faltered. Violence for Kylie’s sake was one thing, but killing innocents—even * innocents—was crossing a deadly line. A step into the abyss. A fall into blackness that no rescue would absolve.

In a voice just loud enough to be heard, she said, “Pike?”

He glanced at her, the rage boiling out like a white-hot furnace. The Asian scuttled through the door, then began running for his life. Pike settled back and let out a breath.

She said, “You okay?”

He smiled, the violence having drained away as rapidly as the man fleeing the room. He said, “Me? I’m the one who should be asking that question.”

“I’m fine. I thought for sure you were going to kill that guy.”

“Perfect. I wanted him to feel the same way.”

She squinted at him, continuing her search of Overbite’s body. She found a thick keycard for someplace called B-Aparthotel, pocketed it, then held up a cell phone.

Pike saw the phone and understood the implications. He moved to the other body and said, “Good. Really good.”

Confused by the Jekyll and Hyde, she asked, “That was an act? What you just did with that guy?”

Pike started going through Ponytail’s clothes and said, “Yep. Sometimes you’ve got to act like a badass. Other times like a *.”

With conviction, or maybe confusion, she said, “You never do that. Never.”

He grinned, real humor showing through. “Not as far as you know, huh?”

Her mouth dropped open; she didn’t know what to say. Pike was meat and potatoes. Shoot or no-shoot. Kill or be killed. There was no nuance. If he wanted to break you apart, he did so. If he didn’t, you got to walk away, but she had never, ever seen any capacity for subterfuge, and now he’d just shown it twice.

He saw the realization sinking in and said, “You really thought I was losing it, huh?”

On new ground, she almost said no, not wanting to admit to her narrow, fallacious view of his psyche, but it would have done no good. He didn’t wait for an answer.

He winked and said, “Makes you think, doesn’t it? Women aren’t the only ones controlling that terrain.”

He tucked the weapon in his pants, hiding it with his shirttail. He nodded, satisfied with himself. “Yeah. I should get an Oscar if it fooled you. Trust me, I’m better than okay.”

He pointed at Overbite. “That * said we were a long way from our friend. He confirmed we’re on to something. I don’t know what, but Kylie’s at the end of it.”






29




Turn off the recorder. This isn’t for attribution. I told you that already.”