Read Online Badass: Deadly Target (Complete): Military Romantic Suspense by Leslie Johnson, Elle Dawson - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Leslie Johnson, Elle Dawson
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co-worker, so to speak. Especially now, after the way you attacked him. Ordinary people don’t have the balls to do something like that.”
I don’t tell him that Mom had forced me into martial arts classes from the time I was little or made me take nearly every self-defense class under the sun. I can protect myself, at least I can in a classroom. But jumping Black had been instinct, fueled by grief and fear. There had been no technique, just rage.
“Another theory is that he suspected that you recognized him as your mother’s murderer and couldn’t risk keeping you alive.”
I look up at him and pull his jacket closer around me. “Then why didn’t he try to kill you too? You would be a witness also.”
He grins at me again. “In case you didn’t notice, he tried. And failed. I think we both took him by surprise. And I think he made a mistake jumping us at the bank, he realizes that now. There were cameras everywhere. If we’d been found dead, then his face…”
He trails off and paces back to the window.
“His face what?” I ask.
“He might not have cared if he’d been caught on camera because he might not have intended to be in the States long enough to be caught.”
“What are you thinking?”
“You said your mother wanted the contents of that box to be taken back to Russia.”
I nod, trying to follow his line of thinking. “Do you think the man who attacked us is from Russia too? That he planned on stealing the box and going back there?”
Jax shrugs. “It’s possible. It’s easier to be careless when you have a ‘do not go to jail’ card in your pocket. Plus, he’s with the Feds. He can just about make up any story he wants and most locals would believe him when he flashes his badge.”
I freeze. “The Feds?”
He sighs heavily, his breath shaking out in the silence. “When we were fighting, his jacket opened and attached to the pocket of his shirt was a Federal ID. I’m guessing that’s how he got past the security at the bank. He’s connected with the government somehow. He’s highly trained and, I’m getting the impression, highly motivated. Or a good forger.”
My head is spinning. The government was after my mom? What had she done? I had always felt that there were things she didn’t want to tell me, aspects of her life she felt were best hidden. But this is beyond even my greatest imaginings.
“God, what in the world is in that box?” I ask, glancing at it as warily as I would if it were a snake.
Jax squats down in front of it. “I don’t know, but it’s gotta be something pretty valuable or pretty dangerous. Ready to find out? Do you still have the key?”
Panic shoots a stream of adrenaline back into my system. The key? Oh please tell me I’ve still got the key. In all the ruckus, what if I’ve lost it? My hand shoots to my pocket, relief making the air rush from my lungs when my fingers close around the tiny piece of metal.
“I guess we should open it, right?”
I’m ashamed to say that a small part of me wants him to tell me no. Insist it is a terrible idea, and we should just leave it alone. I laugh. “Can we just take a nap instead?”
He smiles the tiniest bit, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.
Tears burn the backs of my eyes as fear ripples its way through me. Until right now, my mom’s integrity has only been in question. In a moment, that question will be answered, good or bad. And I’m afraid. Terribly and awfully afraid I will be destroyed by the answer. And what then?
Will I still love her?
Will I be ashamed of her instead?
Large hands cover mine, their warmth sinking into the cold of my own. I look up into his blue, blue eyes, the kindness I see there nearly shattering me.
“Let’s do it together,” he says, his voice as gentle as his gaze.
Together.
I nod.
Turning, he sits next to me and pulls the heavy metal across both of our laps. I slide the key into the lock and turn it, feeling more than hearing the tumblers click.
And
I don’t tell him that Mom had forced me into martial arts classes from the time I was little or made me take nearly every self-defense class under the sun. I can protect myself, at least I can in a classroom. But jumping Black had been instinct, fueled by grief and fear. There had been no technique, just rage.
“Another theory is that he suspected that you recognized him as your mother’s murderer and couldn’t risk keeping you alive.”
I look up at him and pull his jacket closer around me. “Then why didn’t he try to kill you too? You would be a witness also.”
He grins at me again. “In case you didn’t notice, he tried. And failed. I think we both took him by surprise. And I think he made a mistake jumping us at the bank, he realizes that now. There were cameras everywhere. If we’d been found dead, then his face…”
He trails off and paces back to the window.
“His face what?” I ask.
“He might not have cared if he’d been caught on camera because he might not have intended to be in the States long enough to be caught.”
“What are you thinking?”
“You said your mother wanted the contents of that box to be taken back to Russia.”
I nod, trying to follow his line of thinking. “Do you think the man who attacked us is from Russia too? That he planned on stealing the box and going back there?”
Jax shrugs. “It’s possible. It’s easier to be careless when you have a ‘do not go to jail’ card in your pocket. Plus, he’s with the Feds. He can just about make up any story he wants and most locals would believe him when he flashes his badge.”
I freeze. “The Feds?”
He sighs heavily, his breath shaking out in the silence. “When we were fighting, his jacket opened and attached to the pocket of his shirt was a Federal ID. I’m guessing that’s how he got past the security at the bank. He’s connected with the government somehow. He’s highly trained and, I’m getting the impression, highly motivated. Or a good forger.”
My head is spinning. The government was after my mom? What had she done? I had always felt that there were things she didn’t want to tell me, aspects of her life she felt were best hidden. But this is beyond even my greatest imaginings.
“God, what in the world is in that box?” I ask, glancing at it as warily as I would if it were a snake.
Jax squats down in front of it. “I don’t know, but it’s gotta be something pretty valuable or pretty dangerous. Ready to find out? Do you still have the key?”
Panic shoots a stream of adrenaline back into my system. The key? Oh please tell me I’ve still got the key. In all the ruckus, what if I’ve lost it? My hand shoots to my pocket, relief making the air rush from my lungs when my fingers close around the tiny piece of metal.
“I guess we should open it, right?”
I’m ashamed to say that a small part of me wants him to tell me no. Insist it is a terrible idea, and we should just leave it alone. I laugh. “Can we just take a nap instead?”
He smiles the tiniest bit, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.
Tears burn the backs of my eyes as fear ripples its way through me. Until right now, my mom’s integrity has only been in question. In a moment, that question will be answered, good or bad. And I’m afraid. Terribly and awfully afraid I will be destroyed by the answer. And what then?
Will I still love her?
Will I be ashamed of her instead?
Large hands cover mine, their warmth sinking into the cold of my own. I look up into his blue, blue eyes, the kindness I see there nearly shattering me.
“Let’s do it together,” he says, his voice as gentle as his gaze.
Together.
I nod.
Turning, he sits next to me and pulls the heavy metal across both of our laps. I slide the key into the lock and turn it, feeling more than hearing the tumblers click.
And
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