Trapped in his End Game (Series)

A simple bribe to the clerk at the motel gives me a copy of the keys to her room, though I doubt I’ll need them. I’ve staked out the place for over twelve hours, analyzing the patterns of the two cops guarding the room. Two fucking cops. That’s it? That’s all they have guarding their key witness?

It seems too easy, almost as if it’s an invitation. Of course, they’re not supposed to be seen. The cops sit in the unmarked police car. There are probably more inside the motel room.

Risky, risky, risky.

The guy sitting behind my seat lets out an audible sigh and squirms in his noisy leather. The guys I brought with me are ready to go. They’ve been waiting for hours to help me kidnap this girl.

“What’s taking so long?”

I look up into the rearview mirror, right into his impatient face. “Will you shut your mouth?”

From the darkened window of the car, my eyes flick to the gas station across the street, where just tucked in the corner of the building, there’s a black duffel bag.

And it’s filled with explosives.

I roll back my sleeve and check my watch. Three minutes.

The excitement ramps up in my chest, all over my body, making me want to do anything but sit still in a car. It makes me grin. I can almost feel the sparks in the air, zapping me. These are the moments I live for. This is why I love what I do.

The fucking thrill.

Normally I don’t flirt so close to the edge. So many things could go bad with this kidnapping-she’s a fucking state witness, for Christ’s sake, but it’s the highlight of my career. Guys from other crews across New York will hear about this. No one will say that I didn’t earn the right to be made. If it goes wrong, it’ll be the downfall of my career. I’ll spend the rest of my days in prison, if I’m not killed first.

My watch beeps and the most beautiful colors light up the sky. The blackness momentarily turns blue as an explosion rocks the ground. A bright, orange ball engulfs the gas station, the trail of gasoline sending black clouds of smoke into the sky.

“Holy shit!”

My heart hammers inside my chest as I reach inside my jacket and pull out my cell phone. It feels strange to stare into the black screen and dial these numbers: 9-1-1.

“Nine-one-one, what’s your emergency?”

“There’s a fire in the gas station on Clement St. I’m at the motel across the street, and PG&E just came by. There’s a gas leak.”

“The Shell gas station on 53 Clement St?”

“Yes. Please hurry.”

Then I hang up the phone, the smooth glass slipping in my hand as I tuck it back in my jacket. The fire grows in front of my windshield as the gas station clerk runs outside, using a fire extinguisher on the flames now crawling up the wall. It has no effect on the raging fire. I imagine the heat radiating from the red flames. A window explodes from the heat and I look at the darkened motel at the figure in blue, knocking on all the doors of the motel.

Yes, right on time.

Another deafening explosion rocks the pavement, blowing into the far left wall of the motel. People spill out of their rooms like ants to watch the flames licking on the side of the building. Screaming sirens reverberate inside the car and I nod at the guys behind me. We step out of the car and watch as the giant red truck rolls into street, firefighters climbing down to attack the gas station first.

“Gas leak! Gas leak!”

Frightened shouts reach my ears as I jog toward the room where she is staying, heart pounding. I see her. She’s right there, huddled against the door. That cunt Michelle watches her, but the two cops in the car run toward the gas station. Smoke wafts across the parking lot as I stand, limbs trembling.

The guys behind me watch me carefully like two trained hounds.

“Okay, go.”

They’re off. I only have one other guy to help me now. They walk casually toward Michelle, hands deep into their pockets. She’s on the phone and doesn’t notice them. Sneaking up behind her, they grab her purse from her shoulder. Her screams lift in the air and I jog closer, close enough to touch Melanie’s dark curls. The FBI bitch runs after the thief, and I reach for Melanie’s shoulders.

“Ma’am, you need to evacuate the area.”

She turns in my grasp, but I don’t let her catch a glimpse of my face. I lead her to the side of the motel where it’s dark. My heart still pounds like a motherfucker. I can’t believe it. Almost there.

Once we’re in the safety of the shadows, I can relax. She turns toward me, my face hidden in darkness. My cock stirs when I take in her appearance. She’s wearing those skintight jeans that I love and a low-cut purple silk blouse. Her dark hair is tied up in a messy ponytail. Damn, I forgot how much I fucking want her.

“I’m not supposed to-”

“Shut up.”

I step closer until my hip bumps against her. Goddamn it, I want to play with her, but there’s no time. Plenty of time later for all of that. The whites of her eyes go all around when the light cascades over my face.

“Tommy,” she breathes.

I don’t let her have a second breath. I wrap my hand around her mouth, swallowing her scream, and then my arm hooks around her neck. She fights like a madwoman. Her heels stamp on my feet, and I nuzzle her ear, laughing. I flex my arm and squeeze her neck, cutting off her circulation. There are a few seconds of muffled screams and then the fight quickly leaves her limbs. Her muscles go limp and she slumps in my arms. I carry her over my back in a fireman’s lift and then I walk back into the parking lot, which is swarming with cops.

It’s chaos.

Dimly I feel my heartbeat somewhere in my chest, rattling madly. Not out of the woods yet. My car is right there, but I immediately feel eyes on me. Cops.

Fuck.

“My girlfriend had a bit too much excitement.”

“You need to leave the area!”

Thank fuck. “Okay!”

Before she wakes up, I hurry toward the parked SUV and push her in the backseat. The other guy with me follows inside silently. The flashing lights through the smoke suddenly remind me of the Crazy Horse, where I met the girl in the backseat. Then I see Michelle running across the motel, looking frantic.

“MELANIE!”

A smirk pulls the corners of my lips as I start the car and back out of there. She’s my witness now.