The Trouble With Temptation (Second Service Book 3) (8 page)

BOOK: The Trouble With Temptation (Second Service Book 3)
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A car door slammed behind them.

The hair on Ty’s arm stood at attention, and it had nothing to do with the anticipation of Morgan’s kiss.

“Hey, you two.” The thickly accented voice echoed off the plaster wall in front of him. “Put your hands up.”

It only took a heartbeat for the passion in Morgan’s eyes to turn to terror. Ty pulled away. He slowly turned around.

One man stood on the edge of the sidewalk. Another was seated behind the wheel of the parked car. Neither one had bothered to conceal their faces. That wasn’t a good sign.

Ty didn’t recognize either one from photos but it didn’t take a genius to guess who they worked for…or why they were here.

The man walking toward them pointed the matte black Beretta in his hand directly at Morgan.

“What’s going on?” Ty asked calmly. He took a step away and to the side, hoping the man’s attention would follow him.

It didn’t work. His focus never wavered from Morgan’s face.

“What the fuck do you think?” he said. “Give us what we want and no one will get hurt.”

Like hell.

This was exactly why Ty hated the
Bratva
. They had the worst damned timing.

 

Chapter Nine

 

 

Morgan stared at the gun pointed straight at her chest.

She couldn’t move, no matter how hard she tried. It was like everything inside her had frozen the second Ty had turned and she’d seen the long black barrel.

“Your purse,” the man shouted.

Morgan blinked.

She understood the words, even with the man’s thick Russian accent. She knew what she needed to do, but her body refused to act. Fear was overriding everything. It was shutting her down.

And it was going to get her killed.

The realization flipped a switch somewhere inside her. Her limbs surged back to life.

If the man wanted her purse. He could have it. If this was a mugging, she just wanted to get it over with.

Morgan pulled the strap over her head and flung it in his direction. The man snatched it out of the air. His lips curled up in a smile.

But he didn’t lower his gun.

He took another step toward her.

Morgan threw her hands in the air. “You have my purse.”

“You’re right. I do,” he said.

“I don’t have anything else of value. I swear.”

“I know.” His exposed teeth gleamed in the overhead light.

“I have something you might be interested in,” Ty said. Morgan swiveled around toward him. Why the hell was he drawing any attention to himself? The guy was all but ignoring him. If he played his cards right he could get out of this unharmed. “But you’re going to have to come and get it from me.”

“J-just give them what they want, Ty,” she pleaded with him. This wasn’t time to play the White Knight. Didn’t he understand? This guy had a gun, and he looked like he meant business.

The man in front of her turned his head toward Ty, but the gun didn’t follow.

Ty lowered one of his hands, and pulled his wallet from his back pocket. He held it out in front of him in his open palm.

The man looked down at it for a second before taking a step toward Ty. He reached out to grab the wallet.

Ty moved like a flash. One second his hand was stretched out in front of him, the next it was wrapped around the mugger’s arm. Before Morgan could blink, Ty violently wrenched the man’s arm up, and the guy fell to his knees with a yelp.

But he wasn’t down completely. Their attacker raised his good hand, the one with the gun in it and pointed it at Ty’s midsection. Ty wrapped his fingers around the barrel and twisted it around. The man’s wrist gave a sickening snap, and he crumpled to the pavement.

Ty palmed the stolen weapon and turned toward the parked car. Morgan watched with wide eyes as the second attacker stepped out of the driver’s side door. Ty didn’t hesitate for even a second. He pulled the trigger.

Morgan screamed as the fierce blare of gunshot hit her ears.

The driver fell to the street.

Morgan covered her mouth. She struggled to pull in air through her fingers. What the hell was happening?

Morgan turned toward Ty for answers, but found that he wasn’t done just yet. Ty straddled the man on the ground in front of him and pointed the barrel at his head.

The man stared at Ty and stopped writhing. He closed his eyes, and bared his teeth, as though he accepted his fate.

Panic swelled inside her.

“No!” Morgan screamed.

She shouldn’t have worried.

Ty pulled back his hand and smashed the butt of the gun against the attacker’s face. The man’s body went slack on the sidewalk. Ty grabbed her purse off the ground and tossed it back to her.

“Wh-wha—” Morgan could barely get her mouth to work as Ty stood. He strode toward her, the gun still cradled in his hand.

“Come on.” He wrapped his hand around her arm and pulled her away from the building, toward his bike.

Morgan stumbled backwards, her gaze fixed on her attacker. Streams of blood poured from his nose and mouth.

“Is he dead?”

“Which one?”

“Either.”

“That guy? No. Just unconscious.” She heard his keys rattle as he pulled them from his pocket. “And as long as your neighbors called 911 right after hearing the gun shot, the other guy won’t bleed out from his shoulder wound before the ambulance arrives.”

Morgan stared up at him with wide eyes. He was so calm…unnaturally so. Who the hell was this guy? Because she knew who he wasn’t.

He sure as hell wasn’t just some random bartender. She was certain of that.

“Should we go help him?” she asked as she was hauled to the curb.

“No time,” he said, throwing his leg over the bike. “We need to be gone before the cops arrive.”

“We do?”

“I don’t have time to explain right now. You’re just going to have to trust me.”

She did? Why the hell would she do that?

Morgan looked down at the gun Ty was tucking into his waistband. The man had just cold-cocked a man with a gun in front of her without so much as blinking. He may have shot another to death.

Of course, he’d done all that to save her ass.

“Get on,” he said, gesturing behind him.

Morgan hesitated.

Sirens wailed off in the distance.

“Now, Morgan.” Ty’s voice was hard.

“But the cops are on their way,” she said, as if he didn’t already know. Wouldn’t it be better if we waited and let the authorities sort this out?”

“Barinov has moles inside the police department, Morgan. If you go with them, his men will know exactly where to find you. And this time they
will
finish the job.”

Morgan’s blood turned to ice.

The sirens were louder now.

“Crap,” she muttered under her breath and jumped on the back of his bike.

 

 

***

 

 

Morgan held on for dear life as Ty’s bike tore down her street and away from the police sirens. She closed her eyes as he pushed the throttle to what had to be its limit. Morgan was pretty sure she’d never gone this fast on anything but an airplane.

Strangely, ending up a smear on the pavement wasn’t her primary concern. It was whether or not she’d just made the biggest mistake of her life.

How many times in the last couple of days had she had that same thought?

Of course, running from the police with an armed gunman had a way of making you take a serious look at your life choices.

The cops would be pissed. That much was obvious. But it all came down to which she was afraid of more—the police or the Russian Mafia. In the end, she could only hope that the SFPD were an understanding lot.

At the very least, they probably wouldn’t shoot her on the spot. The same could not be said for the
Bratva
.

The image of her attacker’s eyes flashed in Morgan’s mind. He wasn’t there for her money. He hadn’t given a single damn about her purse. He’d been there to hurt her. Maybe even kill her.

And there wasn’t any doubt in her mind why.

Evgeni Barinov had sent him.

He was past warnings.

A chill that had nothing to do with the cold night air ran up Morgan’s spine.

Dear God. The Russian Mob wanted to kill her.

And Ty had saved her.

He’d been like a damn ninja tonight, kicking ass before she could even blink. Where the hell had he learned to fight like that?

The same place where he’d learned to pick locks and shoot with a split second to aim.

Maybe she wasn’t riding off with the White Knight after all.

Morgan opened her eyes as the Ducati slowed. She glanced at the rainbow of plaster-covered buildings whizzing by. It looked like they were somewhere in the Mission.

Ty pulled his bike around the back of a building and stopped next to a tarnished metal fire escape that snaked up to the top.

“Where are we?” Morgan asked.

“My place.” Ty killed the engine and stepped off. He held out his hand.

Morgan stared at it. “Maybe this isn’t the best idea.”

“It’s okay. I’m certain no one followed us.” He pressed his hand closer.

She crinkled up her nose. “I just…”

“You’re scared of me,” he said.

That couldn’t be surprise she heard in his voice. It just couldn’t. She’d just watched him pummel a man into the concrete for heaven’s sake. Did he think that was an everyday occurrence in her world?

Still, scared might be too harsh of a word.

“Wary,” she amended. “Cautious.”

“I’m not going to hurt you, Morgan.”

“I know. I know.” And she did. He’d done nothing but help her. Hell, she’d be dead right now if it wasn’t for him.

Ty glanced around the parking lot. He shifted from foot to foot in his impatience, but still, he didn’t pressure her. “So what’s the problem?”

That was the question, wasn’t it? What
was
the problem? Deep down, she trusted him. More than that, all of her instincts screamed that he would do anything to keep her safe.

But why? Why would he risk his life for hers? Why had he wanted to spend time with her in the first place? Because Morgan was starting to get the idea that it wasn’t just because he couldn’t resist her sparkling personality.

That was the real reason she hadn’t stepped off his bike. That was what she was really afraid of. Going with him meant getting answers, and even after everything she’d been through, the truth scared her more than anything.

Her shoulders sagged at the realization. It was much easier just to pretend that it was Ty and his gun that she was scared of. But easier didn’t make it right.

She drew in a deep breath and looked up into his eyes.

“You’re not really a bartender, are you?”

The flat line of his mouth tightened. His nostrils flared as he drew in a sharp breath. “Morgan—”

“You’re not.” Her hand flew to her mouth. See, she knew she didn’t
really
want the answers. Not that she had any. But her head was swimming with possibilities. “Do you work for the Russians? Or some other gang? Or are you a lone wolf?”

His brows pulled together. “
A lone wolf?

“I don’t know.” Morgan threw her hands in the air. “Everything I know about the criminal underworld comes from television shows.”

“I’m not a criminal,” he said.

“So, what are you then?”

“Come inside and I’ll explain,” he said.

Morgan looked at his hand again. She drew in a deep breath and slowly let it out. She still wasn’t certain that she wanted the truth but what other choice did she have?

“I just don’t know. I mean—”

“Oh, for God’s sake. We don’t have time for this,” Ty said.

He wrapped his arms around her middle and lifted her off the bike as if she didn’t weigh an ounce. Her belly landed with a hard thump against his shoulder. Morgan kicked her legs wildly as she looked down at the pavement six feet below.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Making up your mind for you.”

The ground started to move. A second later she heard the metallic clink of his boots on the steps of the fire escape.

“I’d stop thrashing if I were you,” he said, his voice laced with humor. At least someone was enjoying this. “I’d hate to drop you.”

Morgan stilled even though Ty’s arms felt as sturdy as steel rods wrapped around her. He was taking the steps two at a time now and the parking lot was quickly getting farther away.

“Put me down!”

“You didn’t say please.”

That was it. She didn’t care who the hell he was. Once she was back on her feet, she was going to kill him.

“Put me down, please!”

He stopped moving. She heard the chime of keys. She lifted her head in time to see a wooden door being kicked open. Ty stepped inside.

A moment later, he slowly slid her down the length of his body. Even after her shoes hit the kitchen tile, he didn’t let go. His arms stayed around her waist. His hand lingering dangerously close to the curve of her bottom.

“There. All better?” he asked with that wicked smile that never failed to heat her blood.

Morgan leaned back and kicked him in the shin as hard as she could.

“Now I am.”

BOOK: The Trouble With Temptation (Second Service Book 3)
2.08Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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