Deadly Game (Fortress Security #5)(89)

Carstairs cursed. “You made it so I can’t work anywhere.”

“There are organizations who would hire you.” Not good ones.

“The companies I want to work for wouldn’t look at me. You’re responsible for that. My only employment option is assassin-for-hire. I’m kicking off my new career by killing you and your girlfriend. A free treat for me.”

“Did you think there wouldn’t be repercussions for what you did?” Brent asked. “You came after my girlfriend and wounded one of my operatives in a bid for revenge.”

“If you and your PSI group weren’t so self-righteous, I would have been the best at everything. Yeah, I came after your woman and pathetic operatives. I’m not sorry. And I won’t be sorry to take out Josh Cahill and his band of thugs.” A grin. “They’re next on my list of free hits. After that, I’ll strike out on my own. I’ll be rolling in money soon.”

“You made a huge mistake,” Brent said, voice soft.

“My only mistake was letting you live this long.” Carstairs smirked. “Say goodbye to your woman, Maddox. I might let her live if she begs hard enough.”

Before the echo of the last word faded, Brent raised his weapon and pulled the trigger twice.

Surprise crossed Carstairs’ face before he dropped to the floor.

Brent kicked the gun from his hand and checked for a pulse as his operatives appeared at the end of the hall, didn’t find one. “Did you get that, Zane?”

His tech guru’s voice came from the watch. “All of it. I’ll send a copy of the audio recording to Taylor.”

“Thanks.” He ended the call and returned his weapon to his holster, turned. “You and Alexa all right, baby?”

Before she could answer, Alexa launched herself from Rowan’s arms into Brent’s, stuffed animals clutched in her hands.

He shifted so Alexa wouldn’t see Carstairs’ body. “I’ve got you, sugar,” he murmured in her ear. “You’re safe. I promised, right?”

“Uh huh. No more bad men?”

“No more, sweetheart.”

“Can I play now?”

He smiled. “Sounds like a good plan. Betsy, do you mind playing with Alexa?” he asked the female operative who had arrived with her teammates.

“No, sir. I love to play with toys.” She took Alexa in her arms, angling her body to keep Carstairs out of the child’s sight. “Did you see a dollhouse in the playroom, Alexa?”

“Uh huh.”

“Awesome. I have one of my own.”

“Really?”

“I have a picture of it on my phone. Come with me and I’ll show it to you.”

Brent approached Rowan, afraid to touch her, afraid she’d reject him because of the taint of violence on his hands and in his life. “Rowan,” he murmured.

Her gaze shifted from Carstairs’ body to Brent.

“Are you okay?”

A slow head shake was his answer. His gut tightened. “What do you need?”

“You.”

He covered the distance between them in two steps and wrapped her in his arms. Over his shoulder, he said, “How did Carstairs breach the house that quickly?”

“That’s on us, sir,” an operative said. “He had a partner who tripped the perimeter alarm on the other side of the house. We chased him down, but Carstairs slipped through without tripping a secondary alarm.”

“Find out how he did it and close the loophole.”

“Yes, sir. Cops will be here in five.”

Brent pressed a kiss to Rowan’s forehead. “Come on. Let’s wait in the living room. Alexa will be fine. Betsy won’t let her out of the room until it’s safe for her. If Alexa needs you, Betsy will let us know.”

On the couch, Brent gathered her close. By the time the police arrived, Rowan had stopped shaking. “Only answer the questions they ask, babe. Don’t volunteer anything.”

The next hours passed in agonizing slowness. He hated being separated from Rowan for questioning. When Taylor arrived, the interview process moved faster.

Finally free to leave, Brent drove Rowan and Alexa to his logistics coordinator’s house. Micah Winter and his wife, Sophie, waited for them. Alexa ran off to play with Nathan, the Winters’ son.

“Come with me, Rowan.” Sophie smiled. “I have a pot of tea prepared for us. Chamomile with Moroccan mint. Should be just the thing to settle your stomach.”

“Perfect. Your home is so beautiful. Thank you for inviting us to stay with you.”

Once the women walked into the kitchen, Micah eyed Brent. “Heard what happened. Rowan and Alexa are okay?”

“Seem to be. I plan to set an appointment for Alexa with a child psychologist.” He frowned. “She witnessed too much violence in the past week.”

“And Rowan?”

“She says she’s fine.”

“If she exhibits signs of PTSD, don’t give her a choice, Brent.” Micah studied him a moment. “Are you keeping her?”

“I love Rowan. I’d be a fool to let her go.” A smile curved his lips. “She told me on the way here that she didn’t have to worry about boredom in our relationship or life together.”

Micah chuckled. “Reminds me of Sophie.” He sobered. “You’re sure, Brent? Our life isn’t for the faint of heart.”