Savage Ending (Savage Trilogy 4)

“I have no doubt. I’m leaving town tonight. Can you spare time for lunch?”

“Sorry, no. Wedding preparations. But thank you. I can’t wait to get started on the project.”

“After the honeymoon, of course.”

“Sorry, but yes,” I say, but I’m not really sorry at all. “I can’t wait.”

“Where are you going?”

“Hawaii,” I lie, and I don’t know why. “Kauai.”

“Well, have a fun and safe honeymoon.” He gives a small bow, steps around me, and walks away.

I don’t turn to watch him leave.

I rush for the door. I need out of here. And I don’t think I breathe again until I’m in the vehicle with Smith.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Kirk was here,” I say.

“I saw him walk in. What happened?”

I glance over at him. “Nothing bad, but he makes me uneasy. I lied to him about where Rick and I are honeymooning.”

“You did good. Never ignore a gut feeling.” He starts the engine. “To your fitting?”

I glance at the time on my cellphone. “Are you up for a bite to eat? I didn’t want to go with Robin, and thank God, or I would have ended up with Kirk, too. But truly I’m starving and I have an hour to kill. Unless I have time to go to Walker and talk to Rick about Kirk?”

“Not in New York traffic. Blake is already checking out Kirk. And as for food, I’m up for a bite to eat. Always. Where?”

“Tacos?” I suggest.

“Taco Thursday. I love it.” He sets us in action.

I settle into my seat and think about his words, which echo Blake’s and Savage’s “always trust your gut.” I do. I just wish I understood what it’s telling me.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Savage

Blake, Adam, and Asher are in the conference room gorging themselves on pizza when I arrive at the Walker offices. “I see Santa arrived early this year,” I say, grabbing a slice and sitting down in front of an extra-large pepperoni pie, Adam’s favorite. I give him a grin. “You don’t mind sharing, right?”

“Would it matter?” he asks dryly.

“Good point,” I say, glancing between Asher and Blake. “What else good is happening?”

“We checked out the investor in the museum,” Blake says, sliding a file in my direction. “He looks legit.”

“At least on the surface,” Asher says. “All I did was run his basic info. If you want, I can dig deeper.”

“It depends,” I say, glancing at the billionaire bastard’s profile and shutting the file again. “Aside from him wanting in my future wife’s pants, is there any other reason I should kill him? Is there any chance he’s connected to this bullshit with Max?”

“The guys who ambushed us were all ex-military, all working for some private for-hire security company,” Asher says. “They were young. Too young to connect back to Tag or you and Max, but we checked for links anyway. Nothing showed up.”

“What about a connection to Jacob Allen, the ex-NSA director?”

“I saw nothing that linked to anyone involved—Tag, Candace’s father, or you,” Blake says, and after he finishes off a slice of pizza adds, “And while Max tells you he’s being blackmailed, I suspect it’s the other way around. I can’t prove that but my gut, based on what you’ve told me, is that he was looking for a payday. But the good news here is I can’t find a link back to you. We’ve scoured the black web, made contact with informants in the right places, and we’ve come up with nothing.”

“What about Max?” Adam asks for me. “Anything on him in all that digging around the web?”

“Nothing,” Blake says.

I grimace. “Yeah well, that’s like saying you didn’t see Jack go up the hill with Jill, but he rolls down a few minutes later, dead.”

“What the hell is it with Jack and Jill and you right now?” Adam asks. “Why do I think it’s some sort of pre-wedding nerves that has Jill not coming down the hill?”

I ignore him and continue on, though it was a good play on words. Well done, Adam. “I don’t run blind,” I say. “What if I’m a target and that makes Candace a target?” My lips tighten and I do what I never do. I toss my uneaten pizza back into the box. “We’re getting married in two days. We’re going on our damn honeymoon.”

“We will handle this,” Blake assures me.

“Yeah, man,” Adam chimes in. “Chill. Eat pizza. Have normal wedding nerves. We’ve got your back.”

“Like I can do anything fucking normal,” I say. “I’m a damn assassin getting married in a church. What the fuck is that?”

“Ex-assassin,” Adam reminds me.

“Not if someone hurts Candace,” I assure him. “I normally just get the job done, a quick kill, and move on. If she gets hurt, I won’t be quick. I will make the responsible person suffer.”

“Back to your question,” Blake says. “What is normal about an ex-assassin marrying the love of his life in a church? Nothing, but it’s good. Real damn good. What is this? Good. Real damn good. We got this. We are going to be monitoring the situation, looking for trouble. Get married. Go on your honeymoon. If you want backup when you’re in California, we can make sure Candace never knows.”