The loss of a stranger filled her with a sadness that made her heartbeat stutter.
She was out of time.
At the end, she supposed most people took stock of their life, weighed accomplishments, and measured good deeds against bad. She wondered if her parents had done the same. Had they died taking comfort in their belief the Matthews would give her a good home?
She hoped so.
Her parents had done all they could to protect her in life and in death. They couldn’t have known how things would go.
The blade of the knife dented the soft flesh of her inner thigh. She could feel the sharp edge, a willing accomplice in her death. Increased pressure and a quick slice and this nightmare would be over. And yet, her hand wouldn’t obey the order being given.
Her mother’s voice echoed in her head.Don’t be scared.
Strippedto his waist and lit by a single gas-powered spotlight, the founder of Petrova Personal Protection looked every bit the avenging angel tattooed over the whole of his back. He stood in the center of the church, head bowed, hands clenched into fists. On the graffiti-covered wall of the altar in front of him stood a V-shaped giant made of shadow.
Seated between the shadow and the man was the asshole Adam had come for.
“No more…please…no more.” Arms and legs duct-taped to an old wooden chair, Hood hardly had the strength to beg for a respite from the beating he was receiving. With a final blow, Petrova granted his last wish, and he was knocked unconscious.
Flanked by Chase and Zander, Adam watched from the dark entryway as O’Reilly picked his way through the rain-soaked rubble in the center of the nave. Forsaken long before the rest of the neighborhood had dwindled and died, years of faith couldn’t save St. Agnes Church from the ravages of time.
In the middle of the crumbling chaos, Petrova’s breath turned to fog as he spoke his final words to the man seated before him, then he turned and met O’Reilly by the spotlight. As Petrova rinsed his hands with water from the bottle O’Reilly poured, Adam could only imagine the amount of blood being washed away.
Retrieving a white shirt hanging from the light pole, O’Reilly handed it to his boss who put it on and buttoned it as they made their way to where Adam stood with his men.
“Sam.” Petrova extended his hand, addressing Adam by his pseudonym. Officially dead, Adam Grayson had been killed in action on assignment in Iraq. Sam Black was the name Adam took when resurrected as a JTT operative. It was the only name he was known by outside of the lodge in Montana and even then, only by a select few.
A ghost trapped between two worlds, he existed fully in neither.
“Lou.” Adam clasped the man’s palm. The abrasions and swollen knuckles were a testament to the laws of justice the ex-con lived by.Your eye shall not pity. It shall be life for life, eye for eye, tooth for tooth, Deuteronomy 19:21.Had Adam asked him to, Petrova would have killed Hood without hesitation.
It was also the reason the grandson of one of the richest men in America had spent his formative years in Sing Sing. New York’s maximum-security prison. “Chase Mackenzie, Zander Cavanaugh,” Adam said, hitching his thumb from one to the other and introducing both men.
“Thanks for your help with this.” Zander grasped Petrova’s palm.
“Appreciate it,” Chase said, doing the same.
Petrova looked over his shoulder to where Hood sat alone in the circle of light, his head dangling, his chin resting against his chest. “He’s a real sack of shit,” he said, turning back to face the group. “Put another girl in the hospital before we caught up with him, she has significant brain damage, won’t ever recover fully.” He shrugged a shoulder. “Someone has to stop him.”
Adam nodded once, the trigger finger on his right hand twitching restlessly. Ending Hood’s reign of terror was his responsibility, and he was ready to finish it, here and now.
“We’ll be waiting outside,” O’Reilly said, pulling the door open and signaling to his men they were coming out.
“I’ll join you,” Zander replied after a look passed between him and Chase.
Clapping a large hand on Zander’s shoulder, the head of the most prestigious personal protection company in the world smiled. “Smart move, gentlemen. I need more guys like you. When you’re done working for chump change, you and your teammates should come see me.”
Petrova suffered no fools. A serious man with killer business instincts, he didn’t toss those kinds of offers on the table unless he meant it. Chase, along with the rest of the JTT, would have very lucrative employment opportunities waiting for them if they were ever in a position to accept.
For now, the targets on their backs precluded the possibility, although the seed of an idea started to take root in the back of Adam’s mind, something for further consideration when he had more time.
“He’s all yours, Sam,” Petrova said over a guttural moan from Hood. “When you’re done, my men will clean up here, and we’ll get you on your way back to the airport.”
“Roger that,” Adam said. “We’ll be out in two minutes.”
With a final nod, Petrova left St. Agnes Church without a backward glance.
“So, what’s your benefits package like?” Zander asked as he followed him out.
