Misguided Target (7 page)

Kane

My eyes snapped open in a panic as I looked around Kendall's empty living room. I quickly jumped to my feet, rushing from room to room, calling her name, looking for her. How long had I been asleep and where in the hell is she? Had they taken her? Why hadn't I heard anything? Surely I would have heard someone come in. I walked over to the front door and found the deadbolt still latched. There appeared to be no forced entry. How could I be so irresponsible as to fall asleep? I'd barely slept for weeks with no ill effects, and yet two nights with this woman and I not only passed out before having sex, but now, when I was supposed to be protecting her, I passed out again. I inspected the apartment, noting that her purse and cell phone were gone. If someone had gotten in here and abducted her they wouldn't have grabbed her belongings. She must have left on her own. Did she run away?

I walked over to my cell phone and noticed a handwritten note tucked under it.

I'll be back soon. –Kendall.

I'll be back soon
? What the hell is wrong with her? We have hired killers after us and she goes off gallivanting somewhere and writes this ridiculously vague note! What if they've figured out where she lives and they're out there waiting for her? Maybe they've taken her already! Fuck!

I suddenly felt completely helpless. I had no idea where to start looking for her. Should I go out there and look for her? What if she comes back and they come for her when I'm not here? Dammit. I looked at the clock; it was nine in the morning. If she wasn't back by ten I was going out there to look for her. I went into the washroom and splashed some water on my face, taking a few deep, calming breaths. This woman was driving me crazy! I was a trained soldier who could remain calm in almost every single situation imaginable, and yet somehow she managed to get under my skin like no other.

I heard the door creak open so I quietly positioned myself in the doorway of the bathroom. I would be able to get a clean shot at whoever was here; I just had to wait until they were close enough for me to overpower them. One, two, three… I leapt out from the doorway and tackled the trespasser to the floor.

“Ow!” the person cried, and I recognized the voice. This was a female and it sounded like Kendall, though she didn't look like her. “Get off of me!” the voice demanded, trying to struggle beneath my weight.

“Who the hell are you and who sent you?” I demanded, easing up a bit to allow her to talk without letting her up.

“It's Kendall, you moron! Get off me!” she screamed, wiggling around frantically. I quickly moved off her and found her stormy grey eyes glaring at me. “What is
wrong
with you? You could have killed me!”

“Oh please, calm down. If I wanted you dead you would be; besides, where in the hell have you been? You just leave without saying a word!” I argued back, trying not to notice how good her freshly cut chin length and dyed blonde hair looked.

“Obviously I went to get my hair done,” she stated, pointing at her head, rolling her eyes like I was a total idiot, “Besides, I left you a note!”

“Oh you mean the one that said 'I'll be back soon'? Oh my bad, that's real fucking helpful,” I growled, trying my hardest to keep my temper at bay. “What's the point of all this anyway?” I asked waving my hand at her hair.

“Well… you were sleeping when I woke up. I couldn't go back to sleep so I started thinking and I got the idea. I figured they were looking for me as a long-haired brunette so it might be helpful to change my appearance. You know like a disguise…” she offered, her cheeks now turning a deep shade of pink.

“Oh that's just great! You go walking around to find some random hairdresser to do your hair when you have people trying to kill you! That's a brilliant plan, Kendall!”

“First off, my friend cut my hair. She's a hairdresser and lives like a block from here. Secondly, I thought it might help. You know, to stay under the radar or something… They do this sort of stuff in the movies all the time!”

“Oh my God! Are you fucking serious? You are seriously going to kill me here, you're taking advice from movies now,” I stated, outraged, but the truth was, a part of me knew it was actually a pretty good idea. Her new look paired with her ripped jeans, converse sneakers and a baggy sweater did actually look very different from her usual brunette goddess self. This makeover might actually help us, but I was on a roll and I couldn't let her know that. Plus, it didn't excuse the fact that she doesn't seem to understand how serious this situation was. If she did, she wouldn't have left. I can't keep her alive if she kept making reckless decisions like that. I'm not sure I would have really heard her out and seen the value in her idea had she told me, but still. This is not how things were going to work; I couldn't operate this way. “From now on you tell me everything, okay. You tell me who you're talking to, who you're with and where you're going. Got it?” I demanded, practically snarling, “Grab your shit. It's time to go,” I ordered angrily walking over to grab her laptop. She didn't argue, but the slump in her shoulders told me she was feeling a little depleted. I felt like an asshole for treating her like that, but we didn't have time to deal with it right now. We really did have to get out of there.

Kendall

As I followed Kane down the street I realized my makeover was an epic fail. I don't know what I expected, but him being such a dick about it certainly wasn't the reaction I thought I would get. I ran my fingers through my hair, surprised at how light it felt. He was mad I hadn't told him where I had gone, and I guess I understood, but at the same time I'm not a total idiot and I wouldn't put myself at risk. Not on purpose anyway. Regardless, I still think it was a rather brilliant plan on my part. Then again, having psychopathic assassins trying to kill me has never been a worry of mine, so what did I know? Even if he was right, I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing it, especially because he is always such a smug jerk about everything. His phone rang, distracting me, “Yeah it's me…” he said, answering the call. “Yes, the sooner the better…No public. Sorry but it has to be public. All right 19h00 at L. Memorial.”

He hung up and placed his phone back in his pocket. “Who was that?” I asked, but of course he ignored my question and kept walking. “So you're not going to tell me anything about what's going on?” I pressed, trying to get some sort of response from him, but still nothing. He was really starting to aggravate me. He said I needed to tell him everything for my safety but somehow that didn't apply to him? “Can you at least tell me what we're doing or where we're going?” I asked, but I still didn't get a response from him. After another block with no response from him, I stopped dead in my tracks. It took him a second to realize I was no longer walking, but once he did it was clear he was pissed.

“What the hell are you doing?” he hissed, quickly closing the distance between us. “Stop acting like a child. Let's go.”

I squared my shoulders, defiantly staring him in the eyes, “No, not until you tell me what the hell we're doing. This is ridiculous! I have no clue what's going on and you won't answer me or tell me anything!”

“This is not the time or place to discuss this,” he replied, but I didn't falter, I held my ground, never breaking eye contact with him. After he realized I wasn't budging, he let out a loud, frustrated sigh, “Okay, listen… please follow me for another few blocks. We'll grab a cab and I'll tell you where we're going, okay?”

“And you'll tell me who that was on the phone and what the conversation was about?” I asked, watching him roughly run his hands over the stubble on his chin.

“Don't press your luck. Now come on,” he answered before taking off again. It wasn't exactly the response I was looking for, but it was better than nothing. I quickly followed him as we headed onto a busy block with an abundance of cabs driving around. He hailed one over and we climbed in. “Oak Hill Cemetery, please.”

I froze. Why the hell were we going to a cemetery? Especially given everything that had been going on it seemed incredibly ominous.

“Um… I'm not sure I'm comfortable with going to-” I whispered but he quickly cut me off.

“I know cemeteries are a little unconventional for sightseeing, but this place is beautiful. Besides, the area is one of the oldest and most prestigious in the city. There are lots of other interesting venues near there that we would likely be able to check out while we are here. We won't stay long, but I think it's worth seeing. Trust me, darling,” Kane answered affectionately, kissing the palm of my hand like we were a couple. What the hell was going on?

Judging from the smug smile he gave me, he was rather amused by the stunned expression I was currently wearing. He was obviously trying to tell me something in his cryptic little message that had little to do with the cemetery, but I couldn't focus at the moment with him kissing my palms and affectionately rubbing his thumb on my forearm. I needed to focus; he was trying to tell me something. After a lot of effort on my part in forcing myself to ignore his touch and his close proximity, it dawned on me, lots of other interesting venues near there.' James lived in that area. Of course! This was a little annoyingly cryptic, but this was obviously his way of trying to cover our tracks in case this driver was ever questioned. “I'm sorry, I'm not trying to scare you or make you uncomfortable. I know I can be a little pushy, but I don't mean to be. I'm just used to people following my orders without complaint or question,” he continued, giving me a weak smile.

“It's fine, I trust you,” I answered honestly, grabbing his hand in mine, offering him a small smile in return. I meant it too. No matter what happened between Kane and me, there was something about him I trusted wholeheartedly. Our eyes met and I could see confusion lingering in them. He kissed my palm again, sending all kinds of crazy sensations through my body. He infuriated me, and yet a simple, fake kiss to my palm could send every one of my nerve endings into a fevered reaction. For better or worse, it was clear I was still attracted to Kane, and as much as it angered me to feel that way, my body had made that decision for me. It was also clear I was still alive because of him, so I decided that although I didn't always have to like him, like a good soldier I would follow my commander anywhere. That's obviously what he was used to and what he needed from me, so it was the least I could do to make things easier on him. Hopefully we could figure this out without killing each other or getting killed. I prayed we could save James too.

Kane

I was relived Kendall quickly understood why I wanted to go to the cemetery. I have to admit it had surprised me a little when she held my hand. I wished it hadn't felt so comforting when she did it. I needed to focus back to the task at hand.

The cemetery worked out as planned. We spent a little time touring before exiting and making our way through side streets to James' place. Once we arrived on his property, I spent some time sweeping the area. The fact that his house wasn't swarming with police officers told me that those lovely individuals we'd seen in action last night had done a good job of covering everything up. James was an important public figure, so it wouldn't take long for people to start asking questions and wondering where he was. I went into the groundskeeper's shed and found a can of spray paint.

“What's that for?”

“Stay back for a minute. I'm going to spray the camera. You can head to the door once I do that,” I offered, making my way over to the hidden camera. I stretched my arm up and sprayed the device. She rushed over to the door and stood in front of it, looking around anxiously, “Please unlock the door,” I said, wondering why she wasn't entering the premises.

“Why would I be able to unlock the door? I don't have the code,” she stated, furrowing her brow in confusion.

“Oh, no reason. I just thought maybe you knew it,” I answered, a little surprised. I guess this meant their relationship wasn't on a 'key to the front door' level. Luckily for us, I happened to have the code; it was a stroke of pure luck that James had given it to me in a desperate attempt to get me to consider staying with him. We stepped inside and I took out my RF pen and began scanning for any bugged devices.

“What the hell is that?” she questioned, following close behind. She was so close to me that I could smell her apple-pear shampoo. Suddenly, I was ripped back into the memory of the other night and our embrace. I could remember the feel of her body close to mine. I zoned back into the present, a little surprised at how much a scent could affect the body.

“It's a transmitter scanner,” I answered quickly, taking a few large steps, trying to gain some distance between us.

“Like as in surveillance stuff? Did you use that at my place too?” she asked, whispering.

“Yes I did. It isn't the most powerful scanner available, but it does the job and it happens to be a pen too,” I smiled, causing her to smile back. Someone in my command got them as joke presents one Christmas when we were on a mission, but they'd ended up being discreet, easy to carry and useful when you wanted to do a quick scan. It didn't pick up any transmitters, which meant whoever was orchestrating this kidnapping didn't think we or anyone else would come here. It was clear someone had been here and gone through the place. There was one of two options: the first was that they found what they were looking for or the second was that they were satisfied it wasn't here. They'd done a decent job of covering their tracks, but they weren't perfect. Had it not been for the one misplaced ornament on James' mantle and the slightly crooked picture frame above it, his otherwise O.C.D. level organized house looked untouched.

“Well someone was definitely here,” I told Kendall as she looked around apprehensively. “I wish I had some sort of idea what they were looking for. As a precaution, try not to touch anything directly.”

She nodded and walked over to the living room, putting her bag down beside the couch. “Should we turn on the TV?” she asked, grabbing the TV remote with her sleeve.

“What for?”

“I want to see if they have any kind of report on James or Dom,” she explained a little unsure.

“That's a good idea,” I replied, and saw a relieved smile spread across her lips as she turned it on a local newscast. I hadn't been giving her enough credit, she had some really good ideas and was quite impressive at offering valid suggestions I hadn't necessarily though about. I turned my attention to James' bookshelf, rifling through his books. It's hard to know where to start looking for something when you have no idea what it is. It didn't help that I knew so little about James that I couldn't even begin to know he might hide something.

“Oh my God! Oh my God!” Kendall repeated, horror-stricken, from the living room.

I spotted a breaking news story which flashed pictures of three women, '
Three women were found dead early morning from a single vehicle accident. Moira Nickson, Lindsay Martin and Casey Peters have been identified as the victims of this tragic accident. They died when their small black 2014 Mercedes-Benz CLA 250 crashed into a tree located on St. Anthony's middle school property causing a rather gruesome scene. The official cause of the accident is not yet known and no further details have been provided at this time. School has been cancelled at this location for the day in order to assist officials in their investigation and clean up. We will continue to report developments as they become available.
'

“Did you know any of them?” I asked, walking over to her as she perched on the couch, covering her mouth with her hands. “Kendall…” I said softly, crouching down to face her, “did you know them?”

She nodded looking incredibly pale, “Yes, I knew all of them. They worked for Dom. Oh my God, Kane!
They
probably killed them, Kane! I mean it would be a pretty big coincidence that my coworkers died on the same night as all this happened and it not be related. They killed all of them and made it look like an accident. They're going to kill me, aren't they?”

My heart broke as her panic-stricken eyes bore into me. These women had to have something to do with James. This was clearly bigger than I imagined. Whoever these kidnappers were, they were taking out anyone involved. I had to figure out what was going on before they tried to hurt Kendall. I needed to find out what this was about; it would be too hard to protect her otherwise. There were still too many questions and too much uncertainty. “No, they won't. I won't let that happen. I promised you that I would keep you safe, and I intend to see that through,” I assured her, meaning every word. I pulled her into my arms, holding her tight. She seemed so frightened and fragile right now, and I couldn't help feeling angry and protective over her. A few minutes passed and I realized I was still hugging her, so I slowly let go. I got up and put some distance between us. I would do whatever I could to keep her safe, even if that meant keeping her safe from me. For the moment I had a job to do. “Do you know of any reason why they would have killed them? I can't make sense of what's going on, but somehow it obviously has to do with James.”

“No, I can't,” she offered. “I've been trying to figure out what the hell James did or what he was involved in, but I can't think of anything. All I know is that whatever the hell he and Dominique were up to, it royally screwed us all by association,” she replied, sounding as exasperated as I felt. People were being killed, James had been kidnapped, this whole thing was a mess, and I felt sure she would tell me if she thought of anything that could help. But I still didn't understand why they wanted her if she knew nothing. There was some sort of puzzle piece missing, and whether she realized it or not, she either knew something without being aware of it, or they thought she did, which was just as bad but a lot more difficult to figure this out.

“Did any of those women know where you live?”

“No, we didn't hang out outside of events. One of Dominique's rules was that we don't socialize outside of work and exchange personal information. Some people didn't take that rule seriously, but I did. I liked the separation between my two lives. No one had my real address, name or personal cell phone number.”

“What about James?”

“What about James?” she asked, confused by my question.

“Did he talk to those girls that you know of? Did he know where you lived? Did he have your personal number that they might be able to find on his phone?” I asked hesitantly, not really wanting to hear her response. I wasn't sure how close she and James were, but I knew I didn't really want to hear details about it.