Bullet to the Heart (36 page)
She winced. “You need to work on your pronunciation and accent.
Tu suces,
” she said with a smile.
“That I may, but you haven’t responded to my request.” Where weariness had been, there was now steely determination.
“Yes, I did. I said—”
He shook his head emphatically, dark black hair, longer since she’d last seen him, falling over his brow. “Not the response I wanted.”
She rolled her eyes. “You are acting like a child, and this is not a game.”
He got in her face then, anger pouring off him. He smelled so good, and his breath was warm as it blew against her face and neck. “You’re goddamn right this isn’t a game. Do you think for one fucking minute that, as I looked down on you dying in that pit, I thought it was
fun
? You nearly died, Gretchen. It is intolerable. I will not lose you!” He was yelling by the time he finished and he took her face in his hands, forcing her to meet his gaze.
“You wormed your stubborn ass into my soul, and I’ll not fucking allow you to kill yourself for vengeance. You’ll stay here, where I can keep you safe, and we’ll plan, Gretchen. We’ll plan, and then we’ll act, but we will do it together. You will never put me through that again,” he said viciously.
“You cannot mean this,” she whispered, tears flowing unheeded down her checks, their fiery tracks a reminder that she felt now. Because of the man yelling in her face, she felt.
“I don’t say things I don’t mean.”
She tried to pull away, the intensity of his gaze gripping her soul and refusing to let her think. “You don’t know what you’re doing. . ."
She trailed off as he just stared at her, refusing to budge or allow her to.
“You told me the first time I saw you driving away from me in Seattle that I would thank you for saving my life.” He smiled then, and it was painful, but it made her heart thump heavily. Blood pushed through her veins, reminding her of the reason she was here. “You were right, Gretchen. Thank you.”
He punctuated his words with a kiss at the corner of her mouth, and her eyes drifted shut.
He could not know what he was asking of her or what he was getting himself into.
“But this is about so much more than my life—it’s about my heart. I know what I’m doing. Now it’s up to you to let me in,” he said, and then stepped away from her.
She felt bereft, as if her anchor to the world had been raised. She could not do this with him. She had not broken, but she was changed. Gretchen was no more as much as he wanted to believe it so. She was only Bullet, sometimes Remi. She was damaged. As much as he’d lost, he deserved better.
“I have not broken, but you, Rand Beckett . . . you could be the one to do so,” she whispered.
“I cannot break that which has become a vital part of me. I don’t know how it happened—how
you
happened. But you are here now, and I won’t let you be hurt anymore.”
It was impossible that he was saying these things to her, and yet her heart reached out to him, refused to be quieted, in fact,
demanded
to be listened to.
“I do not know what you want me to say.” Her voice broke on the last word, and more tears welled up and fell over. Her head pounded, and she quaked from head to toe.
He nudged her face up with his finger. “Say you’ll stay here, with me.”
She’d reached a ledge she’d never thought to prepare for. Her heart answered before her brain could check it.
“I’ll stay,” she whispered, shaking with . . .
fear
. God in Heaven, Rand Beckett had managed to instill in her something she’d not felt since she’d watched her parents gunned down.
Fear. What was this warmth in her chest? This agonizing need to see him, smell him, touch him? Never had anyone besides her sisters meant as much as this man did to her. It was unacceptable.
And yet it refused to not be accepted. Even as the feeling hissed and snarled at her, she dared it to fuck with her. She would stay, and she would keep him safe. She would heal, and then she would go after Joseph with everything in her.
“Lie down,” he murmured against her lips, his own soft but firm, teasing her with their closeness. “You need to rest. There’s time to work it all out later. For now, sleep,” he urged.
She did as he instructed. She even allowed him to tuck her beneath the covers. She watched him warily, still not understanding or fully trusting this tentative thing between them.
He sat down in the chair beside the bed and relaxed into it, his gaze never leaving her face, intent and communicating everything with a single look.
“Rest. I’ll be here.”
She nodded and turned over, her heart slowing, her body succumbing to its weakness. She took a deep breath and felt her soul take flight.
For now, she’d rest. She would fight this fight with him when she was better. Maybe tomorrow...
Ce n'est pas grave, non?
It doesn't matter, does it?
Arrete
Stop.
C'est trop. Nous devons cesser.
It's too much. We must stop.
Dis-le!
Say it!
Et il sera toujours doux parce que vous serez morts.
And it will still be sweet because you will be dead.
Et votre mort sera doux pour nous tous.
And your death will be sweet for us all.
J'ai besoin. Arrête ça!
I need. Make it stop!
Je ne suis personne.
I am nobody.
Je suis ici. Bientôt le chasseur devient le chassé.
I am here. Soon the hunter will become the hunted.
Kanojo wa anata kara no orokana o shiri o nani mo uketoranakatta
She took nothing from you stupid ass
Mais qu'est-ce un choix à faire. Je n'aurais pas pu faire l’un ou l'autre.
But what a choice to make. I couldn't have done either one.
Me toucher.
Touch me.
Merci
Thank you
Mon nom . . . dis-le
My name..say it
Ne me faites pas faire cette chose.
Do not make me do this thing.
Ne me moquez pas!
Don't laugh at me!
Nous quittons aujourd'hui. Attendez-vous à nous demain.
We leave today. Expect us tomorrow.
Ou je ne vous diront jamais où le garçon est.
Or I will never tell you where the boy is
Oui, rien n'est trop cher quand il s'agit de
Yes, nothing is too expensive when it comes to . . .
Oui.
Yes.
Poupon
Little baby
Savent, Minton, elle vient.
But please know, Minton, that she is coming.
S'il vous te plaît
Please
Toi
You
Tu suces
You suck
Ven
They come!
Vous
You
Vous me comprenez?
Do you understand me?
Vous n'êtes pas la mienne pour tuer à prendre.
You are not mine to kill to take.
Vous pourrir en enfer, salope!
You will rot in hell, bitch!
Vraiment?
Right?
Lea Griffith began sneaking to read her mother’s romance novels at a young age. She cut her teeth on the greats: McNaught, Woodiwiss, and Garwood. She still consumes every romance book she can put her hands on, but now she writes her own.
Lea lives in rural Georgia with her husband, three teenage daughters, two dogs, a cat, and a Betta fish named Coddy George. When not working at the EDJ, she’s usually at her keyboard writing. She loves romance and nothing is off-limits when it comes to her muse.
Taliesin Publishing thrives on introducing you to new authors and stories. If you enjoyed this book, please continue reading for an excerpt of the next book in this series, as well as excepts of other stories releasing soon we think you’ll love. And if you do, please spread the word.
Taliesin Publishing
Arrow to the Soul by Lea Griffith
Coming February 2014
The sounds of the busy outdoor café permeated Adam’s thoughts. A car backfired, people chatted, and the clank of silverware against plates was loud as he waited for her arrival. The smooth purr of a street bike hovered over the background noise. And then she was there.
The woman parked the sleek Suzuki Hayabusa 1340 and took off her helmet. Long ebony hair, pin straight and so shiny, so soft looking his hands itched to grab hold of it, fell down her back, skimming the top of her luscious ass. His body hardened.
Fuck
.
She lifted a leg over the bike and Adam’s hand tightened on the mug he lifted to his lips. She moved like water. Fluid, easy, and flowing—every movement a testimony to her training, and something else Adam could not name. It was indefinable, but it spoke of a decided lack of worry, indeed an overabundance of confidence. Even as he recognized the seductive curve of her hips, the gorgeous, clean lines of her body wrapped in tight black leather, his mind struggled to reason with his body. Everything she was should be abhorrent to him.
But it wasn’t.
Her smell still taunted him, a phantom in his nose and over his tongue. He’d been in Vancouver once as the plum trees were blooming. Their sweet, honeyed fragrance had called to the wildness in Adam back then. Her scent had done the same two weeks ago.
He’d stood beside a woman who’d faced down over twenty-five armed men and dared them to save her sister. She had threatened him, hell she’d threatened them
all
, and then she’d walked away, disappearing into the fog. He’d been marked that day by her golden eyes and hardened soul. Adam had not been the same since.
It had been two weeks since they’d rescued Bullet from a water pit in Peru. They’d been the longest two weeks of Adam’s life, all because of the woman he now watched making her way toward a family of five.
It would be four when she walked away. If anyone nay-sayed her, the family would be wiped off the face of the earth altogether.
Adam couldn’t let that happen. Bullet had begged him to go after Arrow. What she hadn’t known was he’d been planning on doing just that anyway.
He set his mug down carefully. The heavy afternoon heat of Mexico City didn’t faze him, yet nobody gave the woman a passing glance. Odd considering she was decked out in full leathers and the temperature soared well over a hundred degrees today. But she seemed to fit into the tableau; the control she wielded somehow morphed the setting to her whim.
Heat be damned, she was a cold, calculated killer. The very air she stirred filled with her intent to eliminate life. And Adam hated death. At least unnecessary death. Sometimes the Great Spirit called on his people to do things for the continued good of the human race. Adam had answered that summons on many occasions. But Arrow took any life she was paid for and simply kept moving.
Like the water her walk brought to his mind, she flowed from one job to the next, never rippling, never rushing. The thought of what she was, what she
did
, left a sour taste in his mouth. He didn’t understand his irrational need to stop her and refused to delve too deeply into it right now.
She was about to set into motion events that would destroy relations between the United States and Mexico, and
that
Adam could not allow. The fact that Mexico’s president was in Joseph Bombardier’s pocket was irrelevant. That the man abused young Hispanic girls in ways that defied morality was digustingly irrelevant. If he went down, so did the barrier between the number one drug cartel in Mexico and the United States. The dead bodies of innocents would litter the streets of every single town along the US/Mexican border.
The man needed to die, but not until his country was more stable. Still she walked, unhurried.
“
Hey, chica
!” some young boy yelled in her direction. “
Ven aquí chica geisha
.”
Adam winced. Come over here, geisha girl? Poor kid had no idea he’d just taunted one of the most deadly women in the world.
She ignored the kid, floating over the hot, pocked pavement as if she had not a care in the world. She stopped about fifteen feet from the family and leaned against a wall in the shade. The president’s guards were being especially lax today. People milling by on the street stopped to meet and shake hands with their leader. It was unheard of.
Slowly and methodically, Arrow rolled her right sleeve up to mid-forearm and then pulled an object from her backpack. She didn’t glance around and the cadence of the rise and fall of her chest never changed. She was ice cold.
Adam cocked his head and everything around him faded. His gaze sharpened on the object she strapped to her hand and everything clicked. He’d wondered how she would get a bow and arrow so close to her target without being seen by someone on the busy street.
But the wrist-mounted weapon she’d just strapped to her arm and loaded was her answer.
Son of a bitch!
He stood carefully, taking a last sip of his bitter coffee before setting the mug down once again. Adam straightened his suit jacket, ran a quick hand through his hair, and began to move around the tables scattered on the sidewalk. His gaze narrowed, every movement she made raising the hair on the back of his neck.
