Read Online The Seven: A Taste for Jazz: Book 3 of The Seven series by Ciana Stone - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Ciana Stone
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alone.
He waited until almost midnight when things were quiet, and snuck around the side of the house. He could see the guy sitting in an old vinyl recliner watching television and drinking from a bottle of Jack Daniels. It was going to be easier than he thought.
Barnette made his way to the back door, easing up the two rickety steps. He'd just reached for the handle of the screen door when the unmistakable feel of the barrel of a gun pressed against the back of his head.
"Easy, hoss," a voice he'd never forget whispered.
Barnette raised his hands and turned slowly, looking down the long silencer attached to the Glock, to Jazz's face.
"You're encroaching on my territory, Barnette."
"Seems to me it's the other way around."
"Uh-huh," she smirked at him. "Besides, you owe me."
"The fuck I do! You ran out on me, you bitch! With all the money."
"My money."
"Half of it was mine. We worked that job together."
"Way I see it, your half was payment."
"For?"
"For me finding you in my bed with your dick up that blonde's ass."
"Man's gotta have some relief, Jazz, and you sure as shit weren't putting out."
"Damn skippy. You cheated on me."
"Then why wait until after the job? You didn't say shit when you caught me."
"We were in the middle of a job, you jackass. One of us had to stay focused. And it sure as hell wasn't you."
"Fine, so I fucked around on you and you took the money. That doesn't have shit to do with now."
"Oh yes it does. You haven't come close to paying off that debt."
"Oh yeah, I have. Now put that damn gun away. You know you're not going to shoot me."
"Don't put it to the test," she warned as he took a step toward her.
"I mean it, Jazz. Put it the fuck down or I'll have to take it from you."
"Not gonna happen."
He made a move for her. She had one split second to decide. Shoot or not. She chose not, but did flip the gun in the air, catching it by the barrel to bring it around in a hammer strike.
The blow caught him in the forehead over his right eye and ripped a slice open clear down to his eye.
Barnette howled like a wounded buffalo, his right eye blinded by blood. His howl alerted the target inside. Shots came from the back window, peppering the ground around them. Jazz grabbed Barnette by the arm and dragged him around the corner of the house. He slumped down, holding one hand to his head.
"Stay here," she whispered and disappeared back around the side of the house.
That was the last he saw of her until she appeared with the bail jumper, cuffed and bloody.
She knelt down in front of Barnette. "Now we're even," she said and patted him on the shoulder.
He watched her walk away, the captured target in front of her, and swore. She might think it was over but it wasn't, not by a long shot.
And now he found himself being handed Jazz on a golden platter, an unexpected perk. Haul in the doctor for Mindleton, and get even with Jazz Boudreaux all at the same time. Life was good.
*****
Jazz drove through the massive iron gates, watching in her side mirror as the gates swung closed behind her. When Rock had suggested she come to his place as they left the gym, she'd jumped at the chance and was following him home.
Since their night in the gym, they'd had no time alone. The gym was packed from open to close with fighters preparing for a qualification round the upcoming week. Most nights when she left Rock was still working with a fighter. She'd learned a lot about Rock from watching him train the fighters. Most importantly was that he was a fighter who fought the primary battle on the mental level. While he was fast and strong and had excellent technique, on those factors alone he could have been beaten by a number of guys. But when his superior intellect and strategy was factored in, he was unbeatable.
Jazz was one hundred percent certain he could take the title if he chose to enter the competition. But he didn't seem interested. She wondered if it had anything to do with his other work and the life
He waited until almost midnight when things were quiet, and snuck around the side of the house. He could see the guy sitting in an old vinyl recliner watching television and drinking from a bottle of Jack Daniels. It was going to be easier than he thought.
Barnette made his way to the back door, easing up the two rickety steps. He'd just reached for the handle of the screen door when the unmistakable feel of the barrel of a gun pressed against the back of his head.
"Easy, hoss," a voice he'd never forget whispered.
Barnette raised his hands and turned slowly, looking down the long silencer attached to the Glock, to Jazz's face.
"You're encroaching on my territory, Barnette."
"Seems to me it's the other way around."
"Uh-huh," she smirked at him. "Besides, you owe me."
"The fuck I do! You ran out on me, you bitch! With all the money."
"My money."
"Half of it was mine. We worked that job together."
"Way I see it, your half was payment."
"For?"
"For me finding you in my bed with your dick up that blonde's ass."
"Man's gotta have some relief, Jazz, and you sure as shit weren't putting out."
"Damn skippy. You cheated on me."
"Then why wait until after the job? You didn't say shit when you caught me."
"We were in the middle of a job, you jackass. One of us had to stay focused. And it sure as hell wasn't you."
"Fine, so I fucked around on you and you took the money. That doesn't have shit to do with now."
"Oh yes it does. You haven't come close to paying off that debt."
"Oh yeah, I have. Now put that damn gun away. You know you're not going to shoot me."
"Don't put it to the test," she warned as he took a step toward her.
"I mean it, Jazz. Put it the fuck down or I'll have to take it from you."
"Not gonna happen."
He made a move for her. She had one split second to decide. Shoot or not. She chose not, but did flip the gun in the air, catching it by the barrel to bring it around in a hammer strike.
The blow caught him in the forehead over his right eye and ripped a slice open clear down to his eye.
Barnette howled like a wounded buffalo, his right eye blinded by blood. His howl alerted the target inside. Shots came from the back window, peppering the ground around them. Jazz grabbed Barnette by the arm and dragged him around the corner of the house. He slumped down, holding one hand to his head.
"Stay here," she whispered and disappeared back around the side of the house.
That was the last he saw of her until she appeared with the bail jumper, cuffed and bloody.
She knelt down in front of Barnette. "Now we're even," she said and patted him on the shoulder.
He watched her walk away, the captured target in front of her, and swore. She might think it was over but it wasn't, not by a long shot.
And now he found himself being handed Jazz on a golden platter, an unexpected perk. Haul in the doctor for Mindleton, and get even with Jazz Boudreaux all at the same time. Life was good.
*****
Jazz drove through the massive iron gates, watching in her side mirror as the gates swung closed behind her. When Rock had suggested she come to his place as they left the gym, she'd jumped at the chance and was following him home.
Since their night in the gym, they'd had no time alone. The gym was packed from open to close with fighters preparing for a qualification round the upcoming week. Most nights when she left Rock was still working with a fighter. She'd learned a lot about Rock from watching him train the fighters. Most importantly was that he was a fighter who fought the primary battle on the mental level. While he was fast and strong and had excellent technique, on those factors alone he could have been beaten by a number of guys. But when his superior intellect and strategy was factored in, he was unbeatable.
Jazz was one hundred percent certain he could take the title if he chose to enter the competition. But he didn't seem interested. She wondered if it had anything to do with his other work and the life
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