Read Online Hot Pursuit by Suzanne Brockmann - Free Book Online
Authors: Suzanne Brockmann
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then that he knew.
The last of his despair evaporated. It vanished, replaced by that certainty which now filled him so completely that he thought for a moment that his very skin might rupture and split. But as odd and uncomfortable as that was, he no longer felt sick or tired.
He was stronger than them, he was smarter than they were, and he knew what he wanted.
Alyssa.
The world gave him a gift as, just before she went out the door, her cell phone rang, and she reached for it. He caught a glimpse of a sidearm in a holster beneath her jacket, and it made him as hard as he would’ve been had she flashed him her breasts, which was odd, because the killing had never been about sex for him. It was about death and fear and power and control.
But it was what it was, and he knew not to question the will ofhis certainty, especially when she opened her phone, and put it to her ear, and told him her full name: “Alyssa Locke.”
Alyssa Locke.
Alyssa.
Locke.
He knew in a blaze of absolute conviction that he should not give Betsy MacGregor back, as he’d always done with his victims before. But not this time. Not now.
Not until he had Alyssa Locke within his grasp, begging for him to kill her quick.
C HAPTER
F OUR
F RIDAY , 30 J ANUARY 2009
L opez kept trying to get him to talk.
“How’re you doing?” he asked Dan Gillman, for what felt like the seven thousandth time in the week since the SEALs had returned from the treacherous mountains between A-stan and P-stan.
Danny nodded and even smiled as he said what he always said, “I’m good. I’m okay.” But Lopez didn’t look convinced, so he added, “I’m looking forward to this. It’s been a long time since I’ve been in New York.”
“Start spreading the news”
Izzy Zanella sang the opening to what was essentially New York City’s theme song, because he was an asshole and he didn’t know how to keep his goddamned mouth shut.
“Well, I
was
looking forward to this,” Dan amended as he followed Zanella, Tony, and Lopez down the escalator to the airport’s baggage-claim carousels. They’d traveled light, with carry-on bags only—except for Zanella the douche, who’d insisted on bringing his guitar.
Which was twice as stupid, because Dan didn’t even know Zanella played the guitar until he showed up with it at LAX.
Their teammate, Mark Jenkins, was supposed to come with them, along with his wife Lindsey, who worked as an operative forTroubleshooters Incorporated, the personal security organization they were currently representing here on the frozen island of Manhattan.
The four SEALs weren’t exactly moonlighting for the firm because they weren’t getting paid—just fed and housed. The “work” they had to do in exchange for that wasn’t very strenuous. They were the figurative “big stick,” in a “walk softly and carry a …” presentation that Alyssa Locke, the Troubleshooters XO, would be delivering over the next few days as she helped a newly elected liberal crybaby government official get used to the idea that some people were going to send her mean e-mails.
It was supposed to be an easy job, with a city full of upscale restaurants and bars awaiting them—restaurants and bars filled in turn with beautiful, supermodel-worthy women, many of whom would be eager to show that they fully supported the troops by taking a Navy SEAL home and getting naked with him.
After the hell of the past few months, this was going to be exactly what he needed, to start feeling like himself again.
It was going to be Danny and Jenk and Lopez, the three caballeros, together again. And yes, Jenk was married now, so the dynamic was slightly different. But Lindsey was cool. And yes, Tony Vlachic was coming with them, too, which was a little weird because he was younger than they were, he was relatively new to Team Sixteen, and he was … different, but it was all okay because—thank you, Jesus—he wasn’t Izzy fucking Zanella.
But then Lindsey had come
The last of his despair evaporated. It vanished, replaced by that certainty which now filled him so completely that he thought for a moment that his very skin might rupture and split. But as odd and uncomfortable as that was, he no longer felt sick or tired.
He was stronger than them, he was smarter than they were, and he knew what he wanted.
Alyssa.
The world gave him a gift as, just before she went out the door, her cell phone rang, and she reached for it. He caught a glimpse of a sidearm in a holster beneath her jacket, and it made him as hard as he would’ve been had she flashed him her breasts, which was odd, because the killing had never been about sex for him. It was about death and fear and power and control.
But it was what it was, and he knew not to question the will ofhis certainty, especially when she opened her phone, and put it to her ear, and told him her full name: “Alyssa Locke.”
Alyssa Locke.
Alyssa.
Locke.
He knew in a blaze of absolute conviction that he should not give Betsy MacGregor back, as he’d always done with his victims before. But not this time. Not now.
Not until he had Alyssa Locke within his grasp, begging for him to kill her quick.
C HAPTER
F OUR
F RIDAY , 30 J ANUARY 2009
L opez kept trying to get him to talk.
“How’re you doing?” he asked Dan Gillman, for what felt like the seven thousandth time in the week since the SEALs had returned from the treacherous mountains between A-stan and P-stan.
Danny nodded and even smiled as he said what he always said, “I’m good. I’m okay.” But Lopez didn’t look convinced, so he added, “I’m looking forward to this. It’s been a long time since I’ve been in New York.”
“Start spreading the news”
Izzy Zanella sang the opening to what was essentially New York City’s theme song, because he was an asshole and he didn’t know how to keep his goddamned mouth shut.
“Well, I
was
looking forward to this,” Dan amended as he followed Zanella, Tony, and Lopez down the escalator to the airport’s baggage-claim carousels. They’d traveled light, with carry-on bags only—except for Zanella the douche, who’d insisted on bringing his guitar.
Which was twice as stupid, because Dan didn’t even know Zanella played the guitar until he showed up with it at LAX.
Their teammate, Mark Jenkins, was supposed to come with them, along with his wife Lindsey, who worked as an operative forTroubleshooters Incorporated, the personal security organization they were currently representing here on the frozen island of Manhattan.
The four SEALs weren’t exactly moonlighting for the firm because they weren’t getting paid—just fed and housed. The “work” they had to do in exchange for that wasn’t very strenuous. They were the figurative “big stick,” in a “walk softly and carry a …” presentation that Alyssa Locke, the Troubleshooters XO, would be delivering over the next few days as she helped a newly elected liberal crybaby government official get used to the idea that some people were going to send her mean e-mails.
It was supposed to be an easy job, with a city full of upscale restaurants and bars awaiting them—restaurants and bars filled in turn with beautiful, supermodel-worthy women, many of whom would be eager to show that they fully supported the troops by taking a Navy SEAL home and getting naked with him.
After the hell of the past few months, this was going to be exactly what he needed, to start feeling like himself again.
It was going to be Danny and Jenk and Lopez, the three caballeros, together again. And yes, Jenk was married now, so the dynamic was slightly different. But Lindsey was cool. And yes, Tony Vlachic was coming with them, too, which was a little weird because he was younger than they were, he was relatively new to Team Sixteen, and he was … different, but it was all okay because—thank you, Jesus—he wasn’t Izzy fucking Zanella.
But then Lindsey had come
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