The Messenger (Professionals 3) - Page 48

“Want to get some time to rough him up yourself. I understand.”

“Thank you.”

“Go get your girl,” he called as I was running out the door, already scanning through my contacts, bringing my phone up to my ear. “I have a make and plates. Give me information,” I demanded as soon as I heard a voice.

It was curt and unlike me.

But that was how this business was at times.

There would be no hard feelings. If there were, I’d soothe them over.

Right now, it didn’t matter.

Jules mattered.

Only ever Jules.

I had no idea what his plan was. This Gary who was not Gary. And not Matthew. This man who was nothing but a face and some decent acting skills. This man who was no one.

I should have been spending more time looking, trying to find someone who matched his identity. To know what I was up against.

Was he just a conman?

Just a Don Juan, seducing and stealing from rich women? It was an old con, one that didn’t have as much footing in these days, these days when most women were skilled internet private detectives about all the men in their lives. But it still happened. And he was young and attractive. He could set up a nice life for himself that way.

Or was it worse than that?

Did he have a different kind of criminal past?

Assault?

Rape?

My stomach knotted tighter at the idea, at the possibilities.

Of what she could be going through.

Because the only reason to take her was to silence her.

And to silence her, well, he knew Jules.

He’d have to kill her.

He’d have to know, surely, that it wouldn’t stand.

We’d never let him get away with it.

Me, Quin, Lincoln, Smith, Miller, Ranger, Finn, even Gunner.

Not one of us would stand for it.

If he hurt her.

If he took her away from me.

There wasn’t a corner in this world, not a cave her could burrow into, not a rock he could climb under where I wouldn’t find him, drag him out, and make him pay.

Slowly.

Painfully.

Bloodily.

I was a good man.

I was careful with my words, careful more with my fists.

But that didn’t mean I couldn’t use them, that I didn’t know how to use them.

I’d never had the happiest of upbringings. My house wasn’t filled with love and light. It was full of exhaustion and expectations, parents who worked themselves nearly to death and wanted me to excel in everything I ever did to ensure a better future for me. My happiness was not a factor.

The only relief I had found was in the bi-weekly martial arts classes with my grandfather.

He taught me control.

He gave me an outlet for the frustration I had.

He showed me that violence was the last possible resort.

He told me that men – real men, good men – did not swing first.

But for Jules, I’d be happy not to be a good man.

I’d be happy to take every skill I had ever learned and use it to make her asshole of an ex suffer for any fear or pain he put her through.

But my plan was to get there first.

Before he could do any real damage.

Bumps and bruises and fear – those I could deal with. I could patch up. I could soothe over. I could teach her how to trust men – and herself – again.

She would be okay.

I would make sure of it.

But I had to get there first.

Because if he just wanted her dead, he could have shot her. Right there in the hotel parking lot. Fled. Left the pieces for others to pick up.

He didn’t want to do that.

He wanted to be careful.

He wanted to make sure he was long gone before anyone got a whiff of him on the air.

I had time.

Not a lot.

But some.

If I could keep my mind focused, I could find him. I could find her. Get her out of there. Bring everyone else in to deal with the aftermath. Whatever that may be.

My phone rang in the cupholder, making me reach for it with fingers so desperate it slipped through, making me veer off the road with a screech of tires, trying to find it on the floor at my feet.

“Yeah? Tell me you have something.”

“Same name. Matthew. He’s got all the papers for it. That costs a lot. He must be good at what he does. But all the papers lead to some half-built housing complex…”

I was barely even listening as I threw the car back into drive, as I peeled out onto the highway.

Of course.

Of course that was where he would take her.

It was empty still, abandoned. No one lived there yet, not even in the finished units.

The staff would have left at five like all builders did, then the office workers not long after that.

It would be safe.

Quiet.

No one would be there to see him at all, let alone report it.

Tags: Jessica Gadziala Professionals Billionaire Romance
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