Read Online Hitman's Desire: A Bad Boy Romance by Megyn Riley - Free Book Online
Authors: Megyn Riley
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number of individuals… or agencies.” Ryker pulls the two photos from his coat pocket—one picture is of him, and one is a picture of me.
Shit.
“Someone’s got a contract out on you too,” Ryker says.
11
Scarlett
I ’ve heard rumors about the Lexington, but I didn’t think they were true.
We enter the lobby and it’s just as opulent as the Belvedere. Almost instantly, a concierge greets Ryker. He’s an older gentleman with white hair, wearing a tuxedo.
“Good to see you again, Mr. Stone. The usual suite?”
“Yes. That will be fine.”
“Do you have any luggage today, sir?”
“No.”
The concierge hands Ryker a card key. “You know the rules, but should I explain them to your… companion?” His gaze falls on me. He clearly doesn’t recognize me, and that concerns him.
“That won’t be necessary. I’ll explain everything to her.”
“Excellent. Enjoy your stay, Mr. Stone.”
The concierge leaves and we stroll to the elevators. Ryker seems oddly relaxed. Unguarded.
I am a ball of nerves.
“What rules? No smoking? Pool closes at eleven?” I ask.
He shoots me a look that says he’ll explain later. We wait a few moments in silence for the elevator, then ride up to the 49th floor.
Ryker doesn’t bother to clear the hallway. He doesn’t exercise any caution when stepping off the elevator. He doesn’t seem to have a care in the world. My palm hasn’t left the grip of my gun since the Belvedere.
Ryker slides the card key into the slot, and the access light flashes green. He pushes through the door into the lavish suite. This is definitely nicer than the Belvedere. And the Belvedere was nothing to sneeze at.
“What are we doing here?”
“Laying low,” Ryker says. “I gotta formulate a plan.”
“A plan for what?”
“Surviving.” Ryker strides to the window, scanning the area. “We’re safe here. At least, for now.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“We weren’t followed. And nobody in your office knows where we are.”
I scowl at him. I know he thinks there is a mole in the FBI, but I find that hard to believe.
“This is a safe house, of sorts,” he says. “No hits are allowed on the property.”
“If this is safe, why did you come to the FBI for protection?”
“This isn’t a permanent residence, if you know what I mean. A guest like me can only stay for 48 hours at a time.”
“And people actually play by the rules?”
“Yes,” Ryker says. “The mob is an organization who’s survival is dependent upon rules and codes of conduct. There is a certain honor among thieves.”
“So, no one associated with the mob can commit an act of violence on the property?”
“Correct.”
“And I thought those rumors were bullshit.”
“There’s a lot about this life that you don’t know,” he says.
There is a long moment of silence.
“Why is there a contract on me?” I ask. “Why am I being targeted, specifically?”
“What are you into?”
“I’m not into anything.”
“Who are you investigating? What trials are you testifying in? Who have you pissed off?”
“That could be any number of people.”
“Whoever put the contract on you knew we were together. They knew I was in protective custody. Do the math.”
“You think someone in the Bureau leaked the information?”
“I know so. It’s the only explanation.” Ryker’s eyes stare into mine. “Do you have any idea who that might be?”
My mind is racing. I don’t know what to think. I know the people in my department. They’re all good agents. I can’t imagine any of them would be working with the mob. But I’ve been a poor judge of character before. I thought Cole was a good guy, before I caught him cheating. I would’ve said he was honest and trustworthy. I wonder who else I could be wrong about?
I shrug. “I don’t know.”
“Think. Has anyone acted even remotely suspicious?”
“I don’t know. I’ve had my hands full taking care of my own caseload. I hardly notice
Shit.
“Someone’s got a contract out on you too,” Ryker says.
11
Scarlett
I ’ve heard rumors about the Lexington, but I didn’t think they were true.
We enter the lobby and it’s just as opulent as the Belvedere. Almost instantly, a concierge greets Ryker. He’s an older gentleman with white hair, wearing a tuxedo.
“Good to see you again, Mr. Stone. The usual suite?”
“Yes. That will be fine.”
“Do you have any luggage today, sir?”
“No.”
The concierge hands Ryker a card key. “You know the rules, but should I explain them to your… companion?” His gaze falls on me. He clearly doesn’t recognize me, and that concerns him.
“That won’t be necessary. I’ll explain everything to her.”
“Excellent. Enjoy your stay, Mr. Stone.”
The concierge leaves and we stroll to the elevators. Ryker seems oddly relaxed. Unguarded.
I am a ball of nerves.
“What rules? No smoking? Pool closes at eleven?” I ask.
He shoots me a look that says he’ll explain later. We wait a few moments in silence for the elevator, then ride up to the 49th floor.
Ryker doesn’t bother to clear the hallway. He doesn’t exercise any caution when stepping off the elevator. He doesn’t seem to have a care in the world. My palm hasn’t left the grip of my gun since the Belvedere.
Ryker slides the card key into the slot, and the access light flashes green. He pushes through the door into the lavish suite. This is definitely nicer than the Belvedere. And the Belvedere was nothing to sneeze at.
“What are we doing here?”
“Laying low,” Ryker says. “I gotta formulate a plan.”
“A plan for what?”
“Surviving.” Ryker strides to the window, scanning the area. “We’re safe here. At least, for now.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“We weren’t followed. And nobody in your office knows where we are.”
I scowl at him. I know he thinks there is a mole in the FBI, but I find that hard to believe.
“This is a safe house, of sorts,” he says. “No hits are allowed on the property.”
“If this is safe, why did you come to the FBI for protection?”
“This isn’t a permanent residence, if you know what I mean. A guest like me can only stay for 48 hours at a time.”
“And people actually play by the rules?”
“Yes,” Ryker says. “The mob is an organization who’s survival is dependent upon rules and codes of conduct. There is a certain honor among thieves.”
“So, no one associated with the mob can commit an act of violence on the property?”
“Correct.”
“And I thought those rumors were bullshit.”
“There’s a lot about this life that you don’t know,” he says.
There is a long moment of silence.
“Why is there a contract on me?” I ask. “Why am I being targeted, specifically?”
“What are you into?”
“I’m not into anything.”
“Who are you investigating? What trials are you testifying in? Who have you pissed off?”
“That could be any number of people.”
“Whoever put the contract on you knew we were together. They knew I was in protective custody. Do the math.”
“You think someone in the Bureau leaked the information?”
“I know so. It’s the only explanation.” Ryker’s eyes stare into mine. “Do you have any idea who that might be?”
My mind is racing. I don’t know what to think. I know the people in my department. They’re all good agents. I can’t imagine any of them would be working with the mob. But I’ve been a poor judge of character before. I thought Cole was a good guy, before I caught him cheating. I would’ve said he was honest and trustworthy. I wonder who else I could be wrong about?
I shrug. “I don’t know.”
“Think. Has anyone acted even remotely suspicious?”
“I don’t know. I’ve had my hands full taking care of my own caseload. I hardly notice
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