A Matter Of Justice (Grey Justice #4)
Christy Reece
Prologue
London, England
The trap was set. The prey had been lured. Now all he had to do was wait for the bait to lead them inside. He had looked forward to this day. Had put off the killing for too long. Life became busy, and there were more than a few irritants in his world. These two together had been just one more. He had tolerated them, but then they’d crossed a line, one he couldn’t ignore. The time had come to end them.
They would be surprised, no doubt. He had chosen the bait well.
A slight sound outside alerted him that the finale was nigh. Moving the curtain only slightly, he watched the man and woman step up onto the small porch. The man wore tan pants, a light blue shirt, leather jacket; the woman was dressed in black slacks and a loose-fitting gray sweater. His eyes stuttered and stopped on the woman’s face. She didn’t photograph well, but in person she was really quite lovely. Thick, light brown hair just touched her shoulders. She had a stubbornness to her chin and an interesting little scar on her left cheek. He found the flaw quite intriguing. He would have liked to ask her how it came to be. Considering their lifestyle and career choice, he was sure the story would be quite entertaining.
Alas, he would never have the opportunity to ask.
The man beside her had the solid, lithe build of someone who could handle himself well. His dark blue eyes held a cold, ruthless quality, but when he looked down at the woman beside him, his entire expression changed, gentled. Interesting.
Andrew and Natalie Bishop had been a pain in his ass for several years. Still, he had steered clear of them...even admired them on some level. Their “white hat” mentality was wearisome but nevertheless harmless. Until it had ventured too far into his territory. His bank account had suffered somewhat, but the biggest sting was the damage to his reputation.
Had they known he would retaliate? Had they been on watch, waiting for him to strike? He imagined they had. They had been in the game a long time. They knew the risks. Knew what happened when one crossed paths with the wrong person.
They wouldn’t expect this, though. Months had passed, and they likely had put his retaliation to the back of their minds. That’s what made this one almost enjoyable. The surprise factor helped make this fun. Killing wasn’t something he usually did for pleasure. There were much more pleasant ways to enjoy one’s self. Killing was his business—a profitable one. These people had not only cut into his profit, they had embarrassed him. A double insult that he could not let slide.
He told himself those were the only reasons they had to die, but there was an inkling inside him that said it was more than that. A resentment, perhaps? An acknowledgment that they had made an impression in a way he never could?
No, he refused to even consider the notion. This was purely a business matter. Nothing more. She had done the job to his specifications, just like he’d taught her. To consider there had been a change in her because of them was intolerable. She was a good actress, and that was that.
The doorbell rang. He had thought about getting one of his female contractors to pose as his wife and play things out a bit. Rarely did he get a chance to playact anymore. But he had places to go and people to manipulate and destroy. Prolonging the inevitable would be a silly indulgence.
When the bell rang again, he went to the foyer and pressed the play button on the small recorder in his hand. “Come on in,” a sweet female voice called out. “I’m just getting a pie out of the oven.”
The house was small and cozy enough to make it seem as if the woman called out from the kitchen.
He stood at the entrance of the living room, scant feet away from the door, his gun pointed at the door. The moment they stepped inside, he would pop them, and that would be that.
The front door opened, slower than he’d anticipated. Stiffening, he cocked his head to hear any words being said. There was only silence.
Two things occurred that he should have anticipated.
From the back of the house, a young voice screamed, “No! Wait! Stop!”
The man and woman entered, their guns drawn. Had they anticipated the trap? Or were they just as wary as he always was? Even as he cursed his lack of foresight, he coldly and remorselessly planned his way out.
On high alert, he stepped sideways just in time to avoid the first shot. If he hadn’t moved, the bullet would have blown his head off.
He glared at the girl standing in the doorway of the kitchen. Light gray eyes, wide with horror, stared at him with a helplessness he usually enjoyed. Not this time, dammit. She would pay for her weakness and insubordination.
He should have seen this coming. Should have known she wouldn’t be able to handle this. She had all the right qualities to be a female version of him. But she had one major flaw, one that might well be fatal. He might have a fondness for her, but that wouldn’t stop him from teaching her a lesson she would never forget.
That would have to come later. For right now, he had the more urgent matter of staying alive. He turned his attention back to the couple now hunkered down behind a sofa in the sitting room.
“It’s no use trying to escape, Bishop,” he yelled. “You should’ve stayed out of my business.”
No answer. How typically rude.
Glancing back at the girl, he waved her over. “Come here. Now.”
The girl stood frozen in the doorway, her panicked eyes telling him shock would be setting in soon. He needed to act now.