Killian (Hope City #8) - Kris Michaels Page 0,72

the edge to get a look at the son of a bitch that was chasing him.

Only it wasn’t one man, it was two. Damn it. He slid back from the edge a bit but kept his eyes on the men. One had a weapon, the other followed behind him, a gun in his hand, but the man wasn’t actively searching. Just following. The one in the rear seemed less mobile than the one in the front. His gate was stilted, hesitant.

“You didn’t warn me about the damn dog,” the first man hissed.

“I tranquilized it,” the trailing man spoke.

“She was supposed to be here, too.”

“She was here. In the trailer. We find him, you finish him, and then my work is done.” The trailing man’s voice was directly under him now.

“You don’t know she was there.”

“I do know it. She’s been in that trailer every night. I’ve watched. Her family stashed her here when you failed to take care of her the first time.”

Fuck, the first man was Zamparelli.

Zamparelli spun and pointed his weapon directly at the trailing man. “You are trying my patience. Follow your damn orders.”

“Orders.” The other man snorted with contempt. “They will use you up like they did me.” The trailing man shook his head. “She was a friend and I gave her up to save my own hide.”

Killian swallowed hard and stared at the back of the man’s head. Who the hell was this other man? Who knew where they were? Who’d guessed where she was? And how could the motherfucker call Bekki a friend and allow her to be murdered?

“We don’t have much time and you’re slowing me down. I was supposed to do this after I confirmed the woman was dead, but…” The leading man fired his weapon. Killian jolted and pinned his head to the top of the container he was lying on. Holy fuck! The man had just pulled the trigger. No remorse, no warning, just pulled. He counted to ten before he peeked up over the side of the container again. Just the one man. He lifted a little farther. The other man was at the end of the containers. Killian watched as he looked left and then right, finally turning to his right and moving out of sight. Carefully and as silently as he could, he moved to the edge of the container, dangled his legs, and dropped to the hard-packed ground. He moved over to the other man.

He was still alive, holding his gut as blood oozed through his laced fingers. “Leave. Hide until help arrives.” Blood trailed from the man’s mouth.

“Who are you?” Killian memorized the man’s features. Sixty or so, grey hair, and deep lines around his face.

“I was… her friend.”

Killian grabbed the pistol from the man’s hand and lifted it up so he could see it.

“Tranquilizer.” The man coughed. “Pocket.”

Killian rummaged through the man’s pant pockets until he found a small case. He also grabbed the man’s wallet and slid it into his hip pocket. Two more darts. “Shoot at close range. She deserved to live.”

“She’s alive,” Killian whispered as he worked to figure out how to load the tranquilizer into the chamber of the small handgun.

The man struggled to grab him. “Not here?”

“No. Not tonight.”

“Good. Russians. They… bribes… politicians.”

“We know.” Killian kept his head on a swivel. He needed to get out of here before the first man came back. The man beside him wheezed in a long rattle. “ Take… care of… dogs…” Killian glanced down, but the man’s eyes stared sightlessly.

“Don’t worry you son of a bitch, I’ll take care of my dog.” But now that he had something that resembled a weapon and the scales weren’t quite so skewed, he was going to…

He felt the whap of a bullet land near his arm before he heard the sounds of the shot. He dove the opposite direction and rolled over and over until he reached the space between two containers. Fuck this! He ran straight for the build site. It was dangerous as hell in the daylight; at night, it was an accident waiting to happen—unless you knew where everything was. He flew from the containers and pounded over the first foundation, skirting rebar, plumbing, and forms they were constructing. He leaped over concrete pads, zigged around utility posts, and flew past set after set of trenches. He flinched when he heard another gunshot, but there was no indication of a bullet and he kept on running and jumped into the next trench.