Charity's Secrets (42 page)

I put
the end of the silencer against the back of his head, pressing into the base of
his skull, to remind him to be careful. He's shaking, I can see his fear is
taking over as he realizes the end coming.

"Business
as business, John? You tried to have him killed, twice! He loved you," I
tell him. "You betrayed him. You betrayed all of us. What could have been
more important than us?"

He
doesn't say anything for a moment, accepting his fate maybe, or trying to think
of a way out of it. I press the gun harder into his wiry hair to help him
loosen up.

"If
I gave him Justin, and basically Senator Lewis, I would get Panther and all the
connections I would need to keep it going."

I'm
disgusted by him. "You should never have crossed us, John. You should never
have done that to a man who cared for you as much as Justin did. But most of
all—you should never have fucked with me!"

"Can
you really do this, Charity?" he asks, his voice riddled with fear. "Is
it really in you to kill me?"

"Goodbye,
John."

I pull
the trigger, feeling the kickback and hearing the muffled
POP!

A few
moments later Garrett and Lena come around the corner into the room. I can see
it in their faces, they’re proud that I was able to do it, but worried about me
too.

Honestly,
it wasn't hard. He nearly took Justin away from me. For a short time that
night, I thought he was already gone. He fell to the cushions of the couch in a
lifeless heap, and I saw the hole in his neck, the source of all the blood.

I mean—
who
the fuck gets shot in the neck and lives?

He was
gone, I was sure of it, and life imploded around me. After thinking I lost him
over his mother, I couldn't handle losing him again. I screamed and freaked the
fuck out, throwing and breaking everything I could get my hands on.

That's
when Garrett regained consciousness. Seeing his brother like that, after just
finding out about his existence, was too much for him and he passed out, but hearing
me brought him back. He called the ambulance and calmed me down. Garrett took
his brother's pulse, my hands were too shaky and unstable, and the son-of-a-bitch
was still alive.

We
stopped the bleeding and I called Dr. Cooper. He knew exactly what to do; they
had protocols in place for this.

At the
hospital, Justin was admitted under an alias so no one could find him or get
his status. Any inquiry for Justin Collins would be directed to us. They had
him in surgery immediately. The bullet was still in him, putting pressure on
his spine, which explained why he was unconscious.

They
saved him. Dr. Cooper saved him, just like he saved me after the accident with
Steve.

I
called Lena when he went into surgery. By the time he came out, Lena had our
names, including our own John Fillmore.

My plan
to be the one to kill John started before Justin woke up in recovery.

No one
got in my way. Justin tried and he learned quickly not to. He was not in the
position to stop me, and that had not a damn thing to do with his recovery. It
had to do with my huge, all-consuming need for revenge.

This
was the first time I had killed with my own hands and I couldn't feel more
relieved. John was a traitor and what I did to him was justified.

Lena
knows me best, and how to handle me. "You good?" she asks.

I
answer her. "I'm better than good." I let her study me for a few
seconds, judging me.

We
smile at each other, and then she turns to Garrett. "She's fine."

"I
see that," he says. He motions for me to get up and come to them while he
uses his phone to send a text. It's to Justin, so he'll knew I'm safe.
"Come on, let’s get you cleaned up to see him. He won't be right until he
sees you himself, you know that."

I
glance at Lena, ignoring the movement I see behind her, other members of
Panther that were waiting with them.

"Go,"
she says. "We'll take care of this."

Garrett
waited outside of the ladies room while I changed and washed up in the sink.
There are some very unglamorous aspects to shooting someone at close range in
the head, things they don't usually show you in the movies. After I was ready,
he took me to the hospital.

By the
time I get to Justin's room, I'm swimming in anxiety. I just want to curl up
next to him and let him help me forget everything, forget what I just did. The
only thing I want to remember is why I did it and Justin's embrace is all I
need for that. But John Roberts is there as Garrett and I walk in. Their strong
voices roll through the room without any tension. They're both very pleased
about something.

Justin
finally sees us and sits up further in his bed, ignoring the notepad lying
across his lap. "Are you okay, Warrior?" he asks.

"I
was. Now I'm pissed the fuck off," I growl at him.

He
smiles brightly, understanding me instantly, and writes "sorry"
across the pad, holding it up so I can read it from across the room.

I mean,
really
! He was shot in the God damn throat! Dr. Cooper told him not to
talk, at least for the next few days so he doesn't risk doing permanent damage.

Mr.
Roberts laughs. In my anger, I nearly forgot that he was in here, and that he
has no clue who I am. "You are something else, Charity," he says,
startling me. His tough, leathery face turns to Justin. "You're right—I
love her."

Apparently,
he does know me.

"You
must be Garrett," he says. "JP tells me I can trust you, and that's
enough for me." He shakes Garrett's hand tightly. "You should get to
know me—we're going to be working together a lot now."

Garrett
smiles, but we can tell he doesn't fully understand what that meant. He thinks
he does, but he refuses to assume.

"They
need an update," Mr. Roberts says to Justin. "Are you really going to
write it out for them?"

"Tell
them."
Justin
writes, grinning.

Obviously
something has changed while we were taking care of our lose end. I hope they
tell us fast, because my nerves are beginning to hum. I need Justin and I need
the comfort of his arms. Today was a big deal, bigger than I've been letting
myself accept.

Mr.
Roberts carefully sits himself on the bottom edge of Justin's bed. "You're
running the show now," he says to Garrett. "You have your brother and
Lena helping you, they're not throwing you to the wolves alone, but you're
running this side of things starting with Senator Lewis. They will continue to
run Panther Corporate, providing the intelligence, and funding the team, but
they need your help now." He takes deep breath. "This morning, Arthur
Shea made contact."

My
blood boils. I want him dead as much as I wanted John Fillmore, and I want to
do it myself.

Bastard!

"It's
okay," Justin adds softly, reading my face. I don't care how soft he
talks, my face tells him if he says another word I might rip his throat open
myself.

"He
didn't authorize the attempt in your home and he doesn't tolerate
insubordination, not on any level. You decimated his team; most of the group
jumped ship as soon as they heard, terrified they were next. It was not the
time to make a move on you, but his guy did anyway, so he cut him loose."

"He's
in the wind?" I ask.

Both of
them nod cautiously.

Mr.
Roberts continues. "Shea wants a truce. He wants to salvage the last of
his group by securing their safety. He will help us get Lewis in the running
for the next Presidential campaign as long as this war ends now."

"And
why should we trust him?" Garrett growls.

"We
shouldn't," Mr. Roberts agrees. "We should never
trust
him,
but we should call the truce and make the deal. There's a bigger picture to
look at, and something more important to focus on right now."

"It
gets our group what it needs at a much lower cost," I say to them,
"and right now we need to find the guy that shot you, Brian Marker,
because if he wasn't ordered to kill you, then he did it because he wants it.
We need to locate him and kill him, because as soon as he finds out you're not
dead, he'll be back for you."

I feel
my fingers begin to tremble. I've had enough now. I've needed Justin from the
moment that I fired the gun and now that I know the danger we're in, I can't
wait any longer. I need to bury myself in his love and forget about everything
else for a little while. I don't know if I can just stand here for another full
minute.

"Exactly,"
Mr. Roberts says excitedly. "Damn you are sharp! Justin, you weren't
exaggerating." He stands off the bed. "Shea wants him dead, too. He's
afraid of him now that he's a free agent again. You two need to focus on this,
for the group, and mostly for yourselves."

He
steps over to Garrett. "We should get to know each other and we should start
now," he says.

I'm
sure he's seen my emotions rupturing, and this is his way of getting himself
and Garrett out of here before I meltdown completely. My legs wobble as they
say goodbye and the door closes behind them.

"Come
here now," Justin orders.

I'm too
upset to yell at him for talking again. I fall into him, dropping onto his bed
beside him.

My body
quits and Justin pulls me the rest of the way in. He doesn't say another word
because he doesn't have to. He knows exactly what I need right now without
asking.

His
arms are tight. When I breathe out, he breathes in, and his heart forces mine
into rhythm with him. We are one as we were meant to be.

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See
the next page to read the opening excerpt from Charity’s Passion, the last
novel in the Charity series by Maya James.

Charity’s Passion

By Maya James

PROLOGUE

I could
never properly explain to her why I do this, just as much as I don't think I'll
ever be able to stop doing it. My words would not do it justice. She thinks
it's adorable, something I do to be cute. I'll let her believe that. Truth is,
there's much more to it than that. This is when I find the peace that keeps the
rest of my life in order. Something as small as this can be so important that
my life almost depends on it.

When it
happens, I go right back to the beginning, back to the Manhattan Grill when my
heart stopped and the air was trapped in my lungs. At that moment I had thought
my life was over, and I was right. The miserable existence that I thought was a
life up until then was most certainly over. Thank God for that.

Thank
God for Charity.

From
that moment on I've had something new and better, something worth living
for--something worth killing for. All I want to do for the rest of my new
existence is love her and make her love me.

My eyes
trace the beautiful contours of her face; those perfect, sexy lips, her full
cheeks, her eyes closed so lightly I always expect them to open at any second
and catch me staring at her, which they eventually always do. When I wake up
next to her, my first need is always to see her face, before I breathe or move,
I have to see her. It brings me back to that first time in the Grill. Every
morning, I get to relive my first time seeing her. That makes me the luckiest
man alive. I get to fall in love with her over and over, and all I have to do
is wake up beside her.

I
fucking hate business trips without her.

When
I'm away, I still wake up early. I grab my phone and immediately log into the
webcam I had installed in the fan above our bed. It's not the same, not really,
but it's so much better than nothing. I'm off balance when I don't wake up to
her.

So,
I'll keep letting Charity think it's cute that I wake up and watch her sleep
every day. She doesn't have to know how much I need and depend on it.

She
takes a deep, peaceful breath and I know she'll wake up soon.

I'm
worried about her. She's brave to the point that it's hard to keep her safe the
way I like to. Months have passed since she took care of the John Fillmore
problem, and we're not any closer to locating Brian Marker. Now is the time to
get worried. If it was me, if I were him, I'd wait, crawl into a safe hole
someplace and wait for everyone to become complacent. And now everyone is--even
Charity.