Dirty Deals by Nicole James Page 0,43

isn’t there, because it’s in my shoulder holster hanging over a chair in Ashlynn’s bedroom. I stay low and charge across the porch, through the screen, and to the bedroom. I find my holster and slip my gun free. Ashlynn’s still asleep. I shake her shoulder. “Babe. Wake up.”

She sits with a start.

“Someone’s outside creeping around. Where’s your gun?”

“What?” She’s still drowsy.

“Where’s your gun?” I snap, and she’s suddenly wide-awake. She pulls the drawer on the nightstand and takes it out.

“Get down on the floor.”

She slips off the bed to the opposite side from the door.

“Do not come out. Shoot anything that comes through this door, understand?”

She nods, her arms trembling as she holds the gun.

“Remember what I taught you. Safety off. Finger off the trigger until you’re ready to shoot. Take a breath and fire.”

She nods.

“You shoot, you don’t stop until you empty that clip, understand?”

She nods again.

I move through the door, closing it behind me, then run bent over to the back of the house. I can hear someone out on the steps, jimmying with the door. I contemplate whether to shoot them through the door or let them walk inside before I kill them. I slide closer to the kitchen window near the table and rise up just enough to peer out. All I can make out is a dark shadow, but then I catch a glimpse of moonlight on his face. He’s got on a ski mask, so I know it’s not her landlord or some neighbor kids goofing around.

I’m wondering if this guy somehow cut the power to the house. That’d take some skill and gives me a hint to the level of criminal I’m dealing with here.

If I wait until he’s inside the house, I’ve got the legal right to kill him. But I don’t give a damn about that. I pull out my phone, text Reno, and tell him to get the guys to Ashlynn’s ASAP. I know he’ll pick up, and I know he knows the address.

I slip the phone in my pocket and aim my gun at the glass in the top of the door. I fire three rounds through it. Feet pound down the steps, and I scramble to the window in time to see him dashing around the garage. I got a better look at him this time. He’s tall, at least 6’2”, and slender. I’m sure I didn’t hit him; he was running just fine.

I scurry to the bedroom, staying low in case that asshole has a rifle with a scope stashed out there somewhere.

I lean against the wall and tap on the door. “Babe, it’s me. Don’t shoot.”

“Okay.” Her voice is soft and on the verge of tears.

I turn the knob and shove the door open. “You okay, Hot Rod?”

“Yes, is he gone? Did you get shot?”

“No. That was me. I scared him off for now.” I move into the room and around the bed to her. She starts to stand, but I yank her back down, sitting on the floor next to her. “Stay down. Cavalry’s comin’. Be here soon. I don’t want to risk you getting shot. He’s still out there.”

“I should call the police.”

“Help’s already on the way. Be here in about five minutes.”

“They’re that close?”

“No, but you’re not that far from the interstate. Won’t take ‘em long; they do a hundred miles an hour, and they will, I promise you.” I watch her reaction. She’s terrified, but I’m connecting all the dots. “Who’s out there, babe? You bought that gun worried about someone.”

“My stalker, maybe, I don’t know.”

“Enough to follow you across the fucking country?” I’m not buying it. “Somebody wants you dead, Ashlynn.”

“I figured that out.”

“Is there something you’re not telling me?”

“When I walked to my car after work tonight there was a Las Vegas keychain on the roof of my car. Did you put it there?”

“Fuck no.”

“A while after I got home, I noticed some things. I think maybe someone had been in the house earlier.”

“Why?”

“Things in my bedroom looked out of place. Not like it had been ransacked or anything, just not quite in the same way I left them. I half convinced myself I was imagining it.”

“So that’s why you acted like you did when I pulled up? You were scared?”

She nods.

“This stalker—I want a name.” She licks her lips, like she’s contemplating whether or not to give it to me. I’m checking my clip, but my hands still at her reaction. “Babe, give me his name.” My tone