Mine To Protect (Mine #6)(16)

“How do you think they all felt?” Zoe asked him. “Your victims? Do you think they were as scared as you are?”

His smiled faded. That fear was so bright and strong and when the last breath wheezed from his lungs…

The fear was still in his eyes.

Oh, God. He just died right in front of me. Her hands were shaking so badly, jerking and trembling as she checked for a pulse that wasn’t there.

Victor’s fingers closed over hers. “Let me take the gun.”

Her gaze snapped away from the dead man as she focused on Victor’s face.

“I don’t want you to accidentally fire.” He pulled the gun from her. “No more wounds tonight.”

That was when she realized—“You’re bleeding!” Blood was streaming down his arm.

And a dead hitman is at our feet. How is this my life?

“Flesh wound.” Victor shrugged it off, like a bullet wound was totally nothing to him, being the super special agent that he was. Bullshit. A bullet wound is a bullet wound! “We need to get out of here.”

She shook her head.

“This place is seriously compromised. With the bounty on your head, another hitman could show any second.” He pushed her toward the bed, away from the body. “I’ll call Russell and he can get a clean-up crew out here.”

A clean-up crew? “Luther used the same kind of crew.” She wrapped her arms around her stomach. Held tight. “Heard him call for them before…”

His eyes narrowed on her. “You heard your father call for a team to clean up after a murder?”

Zoe…be careful. “I’m sure the FBI’s team is much different. You’re not just going to make the body disappear, right?” She hurried toward the bed. She dressed as quickly as she could and tried extra hard not to glance back at the dead man. She didn’t know him. He was a complete stranger to her. A stranger who’d been ready to kill her for money.

Most people will sell out their own families for that much money.

“What body did your father make vanish?”

She was dressed. So was Victor. She hadn’t even realized he was putting on the rest of his clothes and his shoes. When she looked at his arm, she saw that the blood was soaking the sleeve of his shirt. “Luther is in jail for killing four of his associates.” She felt numb. “Why does another body matter to you now? It’s not like he’s getting out.”

His jaw locked as he turned away from her. “Don’t be too sure,” he muttered.

“What?”

But he’d bent near the body. His hands went to the guy’s pockets.

“Victor! What are you doing?”

Victor lifted his hand, holding a key ring. “I thought I got the tracker off our ride. Maybe there was another one on the SUV that I didn’t see. Or maybe he followed Russell and Lauren here—I don’t know how he found us, but I’m not taking chances.” He gave a grim nod. “What I am taking…is his ride. No one should be able to follow us in that.”

He’d put his holster back on and tucked his gun inside. The dead man’s gun—that was on the bedside table now. Victor pulled out his phone and put it to his ear.

Zoe’s gaze kept sliding to that dead man. Not my first body. With Luther as my father, how could it be? But it never got easier. Even knowing that the guy had wanted her dead…

Never any easier.

“Russell?” Victor spoke into his phone. “Yeah, yeah, get back to the motel and bring a crew with you.” A slight pause. “No, I found the bastard. Or rather, he found us. He’s here, and I’ll need you to take care of him.”

She shivered.

“No, you won’t be able to question him. You can’t question the dead. He came in, gun blazing. I had to return fire.”

Because he’d been saving her life. The hitman had given Victor the option of walking away. Of saving himself.

Instead, he killed…for me.

“I’m getting Zoe out of here. I’ll call again when we’re secure. You run the guy’s prints, check his DNA. Find out everything you can about him, got it? I’ll check in as soon as I can.”

He pushed the phone into the pocket of his jacket. Then he was reaching for her again. They stepped over the body. God, it feels wrong to just leave him! And a moment later, they were out in the cold night air.

“No one came,” Zoe whispered. “Someone must’ve heard the glass shatter—or the blast of your gun.” He’d had no silencer on his weapon. “But no one came to help.”

“That’s because this isn’t the helping kind of place.” He headed straight for the darkest part of the lot—and, sure enough, a motorcycle waited there. He put the key in the bike and had it growling to life. “When folks hear noises like that here, they hunker down. Helping is the last thing on their minds.” He straddled the bike and offered her his hand.

“We are going to freeze our asses off on that thing,” Zoe warned him.

He smiled. “Don’t worry. I won’t keep us on the roads too long. Priority one is getting you away from the scene. Priority two is making sure I use a ride that can’t be traced tonight.”

She climbed on behind him. He gave her the helmet to wear.

“Hold tight,” Victor told her.