Smoke Bomb by Abbi Glines

Three

Trinity

Six Months Later

This house was much bigger than I’d anticipated. I wasn’t sure I could continue cleaning the local library and the other two businesses I currently cleaned for. As much as I liked my evenings alone in the library, the grand I made a month from cleaning it six nights a week didn’t compare to the five grand a month I was going to get for cleaning this house three days a week.

With that kind of money and extra time, I could not only pay all my bills, but there was also a possibility I could go to the junior college in town. My future was starting to have some hope. There was a chance for a real life if I could keep this job. It would take me cleaning the library, bank, preschool, and at least four more businesses a month to make this kind of money. Even then, I wouldn’t have a moment to do anything other than work.

Smiling for the first time since Hayes’s death, I began to dust the furniture in the room that the house manager, Ms. Hottel, had brought me to. She wasn’t the friendliest person, but I wasn’t here to make friends. I was here to make money. This was an opportunity that I wasn’t going to lose. Good things always seemed to get snatched away from me. I hoped I got to keep this one. It was time the universe gave me a break.

The next few hours, I cleaned several rooms, being sure to clean every square inch even though this house was as clean as it was elaborate. I had yet to meet the man who owned the house. He’d hired me through the bank manager, Philip.

Apparently, Mr. Esposito was a very important client in need of a new house-cleaning service. Philip had said he was a private guy and didn’t want a team of cleaners in his house. I owed Philip for getting me this job. I was aware that Philip liked me, but he was much older than me. Maybe forty, but I wasn’t sure exactly. He had claimed he was separated from his wife when he asked me out once last month. Thankfully, he had accepted that I wasn’t ready to date. I was still grieving my fiancé’s death. I wasn’t sure how long that excuse was going to hold though. He was an attractive man, but I had watched him flirt with other women at the bank. I had a feeling he was separated because he’d done something wrong. Not the other way around.

I would deal with that if and when the time came.

I had been working on my anxiety. The first few panic attacks I’d suffered through after Hayes’s death were difficult. It wasn’t like they were new to me. I’d dealt with them all my life, but Hayes had helped me work through them. When I went to my dark place, where I escaped from memories, that was a different story. Thankfully, that had to be triggered by something. It didn’t happen often. I wasn’t going to rely on another person again. If I let myself, I’d lose them. That was a lesson I’d learned. I had to be strong for myself.

Feeling more confident, I gave the last room on the main floor one more glance and felt good about how it looked, then headed for the stairs. I had been informed that Mr. Esposito was at home but that he was in his private quarters that I wouldn’t be cleaning, ever. This was a sprawling residence and I was curious where those private quarters were located. Not that I’d go looking for them. I wasn’t stupid, just intrigued.

As I made my way toward the second floor, I heard what sounded like a muffled scream. Was someone watching a television? I hadn’t come across another human since Ms. Hottel had taken me through the house, going over what was expected. I paused and thought about going to investigate, then decided against it. Being nosy was a bad idea if I was going to keep this job. My foot hit the first step just before a cloth was shoved in my mouth from behind, muffling the scream that tore from my throat.

My heart slammed into my chest as the reality of what was happening hit me. Whoever was behind me grabbed my wrists and tied them so tightly that I cried out in pain.

“Where is the fucker?” a deep voice demanded near my ear.

What fucker?

I shook my head, panicking. I had to do something. I glanced around and tried to turn to see who it was that had me when my body was slammed against the wall. The side of my face pressed against the stucco, and I closed my eyes for a moment, wondering if I would cry now.

Was this enough to provoke my tears? My own death?

“Take me to the fucker.” The threat in his voice was clear.

If I didn’t do what he wanted, I wasn’t going to live. Problem with this was, I had no idea who the fucker was or where the fucker was.

“Motherfucker,” another male voice growled.

Suddenly, I wasn’t being pressed against a wall. I didn’t move though. I stayed still, afraid to breathe.

“What the hell?” the first man snarled.

“Not that one.” The other man’s deep voice made me shiver.

I closed my eyes, amazed that they were still dry. I was possibly in my last few moments of my life, and I still couldn’t cry.

“Jesus, Huck,” he said.

Then, I watched as a man climbed the stairs without looking back. The gun in his hand made me whimper. He was going to kill someone. Possibly me.

A large hand wrapped around my arm, and I winced as I was pulled away from the wall.

“Easy, Trinity,” he said, close to my ear.

He knew my name. How did he know my name? I turned my head slowly until my eyes locked with the most unique color I’d ever seen. Was that what people referred to as cornflower blue? Why was I even thinking about this man’s eye color at a time like this?

“Do you remember me?” his deep voice asked.

I blinked, then let my gaze take in the rest of his features. The strong jawline, defined angles, the … oh my God. Huck. The other guy had called him Huck. It had been six months since the day in the church when Hayes’s brother had walked into the prayer room and stood up to Tabitha.

I swallowed nervously and nodded my head.

“Don’t fight me,” he warned. “You’ve got to get out of this house. I’m going to get you to safety, but I need you to trust me.”

Trust him? I was gagged, and my hands were tied behind my back.

Hayes had never spoken of a brother. That had bothered me. I was now beginning to understand why he hadn’t mentioned Huck.

Huck was a criminal.

I nodded, not because I trusted him, but because I knew I had no other choice. The other man with him had no reason to help me. However, the determined look in Huck’s eyes gave me a shred of security. I’d been his brother’s fiancée. Was that enough for him to keep me alive?

He took my arm with one of his hands, and in his other hand was a gun. I followed him as we walked back through the house. There was no sign of life.

Where was Ms. Hottel? Had they killed her? My stomach twisted in a sick knot.

I had to almost run to keep up with Huck as he maneuvered through the hallways until he came to a door I hadn’t been through. We stopped, and he listened before opening it and stepping out into the sunlight. I saw movement in my peripheral vision. Turning my head, I watched as a bullet went into a man’s head, and he dropped to the ground.

I screamed into the cloth muffling me. Huck began moving again and followed, but my gaze was on the gun in his hand. The one he’d just killed a man with.

Why the hell was I not crying? Was I truly this broken? I had just watched a man get shot in the head.

A black SUV came around the corner, and I started to duck. In the movies, this always appeared right before the gunfire erupted. It came to a screeching halt in front of us, and Huck jerked the door open and threw me inside. I scrambled to sit up, but Huck shoved me back down.

“Stay,” he barked.

“Where’s Gage?” the driver shouted.

“There!” Huck replied, his hand still on my back, keeping me pressed to the leather seat.

A car door opened, then slammed before I was jerked back as the driver shot off. A gunshot caused me to flinch, and then sick, maniacal laughter followed.

“Find him?” Huck asked.

“Am I in the car?” the guy from the stairs asked.

I was looking at him as he turned to reply, and his eyes dropped to me. Without barely any movement or warning, the man had the barrel of his gun pressed to my forehead, but Huck moved almost as quickly and pressed his gun to the other man’s temple.

I was frozen in shock. I didn’t dare breathe.

“What the fuck?” The man sounded shocked at Huck holding a gun to his head.

“Drop the gun,” Huck replied.

The other man took his gun back as he glared at Huck. “I didn’t know we were taking souvenirs.”

Huck removed his gun from the other man’s head.

“If the two of you could refrain from killing each other while I try to get our asses out of this fucking compound, that would be fantastic,” the driver drawled.

The other man looked at me one more time, then shook his head in disgust before turning back around. “This is your ass,” the man said. “Blaise is not gonna be happy.”

No one said anything for several minutes, and it wasn’t lost on me that Huck continued to hold his gun as if he would need it at any moment. I was definitely not out of danger. His hand remained on my back, keeping me low, and I didn’t try to move. My arms cramped, and I was sure my wrists were raw, but I didn’t care. This was better than a bullet in my head.

Huck’s hand wrapped around my arm, and he pulled me up. I cried out as the rope dug deeper into my tender flesh.

“Dammit,” he muttered, and his hands moved to my wrists.

I remained still while he untied me.

“Did you just fucking untie the bitch?” Gage asked.

“Call her a bitch one more time, and I’ll make you mine,” Huck snarled.

“What the hell is wrong with you? I know you got a thing for big tits and fat asses, but, Jesus Christ, did you have to take that one? You could have gone to the damn club tonight and gotten one of the girls there.”

I winced as my arms dropped to my sides.

“The two of you need to calm the fuck down,” the driver said in an annoyed tone.

“He’s the one taking a damn witness alive so he can fuck her,” the other guy said.

I turned, my eyes going wide as I looked at Huck. His eyes met mine, and he sighed, rubbing his temples with his thumb and forefinger.

“God, Gage, what does it take to shut you the hell up?” he asked.

The guy who he had called Gage pointed at me. “Kill the damn witness and drop her on the side of the fucking road.”

I inhaled sharply through my nose.

Gage shrugged when he saw my reaction. As if he was apologizing for something that was inevitable.

“She’s Hayes’s fiancée,” Huck said. “Or was.”

Gage looked as if he’d been slapped. His face paled as he looked at me. It was odd to see a killer with clearly no remorse or mercy turn from hard and ruthless to showing actual emotion. Pain flashed in his amber eyes, and he winced as he closed them a moment.

“Fuck,” he muttered.

“I’ll shoot him for you,” the driver said to Huck, then glared at Gage.

They’d all known Hayes. These men, who had just gone into a house and murdered people in cold blood, had all known Hayes. How was this real life?

Huck reached up and untied my gag. When it fell, I sat there silently. Wondering if this meant I was going to get to live or if the man they’d called Blaise was going to kill me. I was afraid to ask.

“Why were you at that house?” Huck asked me.

I lifted my eyes to meet his. “To clean it. To-to-today was my first d-day,” I stammered out.

Huck ran a hand over his face and groaned. “This is an awfully long way from home for you to be cleaning his house.”

I frowned at him, then realized he thought I lived in Alabama. Hayes must not have told him much about me. Perhaps they had been estranged. Seeing as how Hayes was going to be a minister and this man was a murderer, that would make sense.

“My apartment is in Lake City,” I whispered, afraid to incite anger in one of them.

Huck’s frown deepened, but he said nothing.

“How the hell did Hayes get hooked up with someone from there?” Gage asked, looking at me with clear mistrust in his eyes.

Huck’s gaze was back on me. I glanced up at him, knowing he was wondering the same thing. These men had guns and were killers. Probably in a gang. I would tell them anything they wanted to know if I could live.

“My father lived in Alabama, and his wife went to the Baptist church Hayes’s grandfather is the minister at. When my dad had a heart attack, I, uh, left college to go help take care of him. My father wanted me to go to church because I think he believed I’d bond with my stepmother. I went, and Hayes was there. He followed me to my car after a service and asked me out. Then, the rest …” I shrugged. Sure, I’d left out a lot of details, but I didn’t think they wanted my entire life history.

“You moved out of your parents’ house after Hayes died?” Huck asked me.

I realized I hadn’t explained why I was now in Lake City, Florida.

“My stepmother’s house. My father had another heart attack four months after my return, and it killed him. He left the house and all his belongings to my stepmother. She, uh, doesn’t like me. Never has. So, yeah, I packed my things and drove south. Lake City was the first place I came to where I could afford an apartment and get a job immediately.”

Huck’s neck flexed, and I could see the muscles in it shift. The hard line of his mouth made him appear deadly, but then he was. I shivered at the thought.

“She’s the redheaded bitch from the funeral,” Huck said.

I nodded my head.

Nothing else was said for several minutes, and I rubbed my sore wrists as I looked out the window. We weren’t in Lake City, but my new employer, who was also dead now, had lived in a much better area.

“Are you going to take me home?” I finally asked when I realized we were driving farther away from Lake City and not toward it.

“No,” Huck replied without looking at me.

“Why not? I thought—I thought you weren’t going to kill me. I swear I won’t tell anyone anything,” I told him. My heart was racing again, but then it hadn’t ever slowed down completely.

Gage turned around and gave me an annoyed glare. “We don’t know if you’re telling the truth. Fuck, we don’t know that you didn’t get into Hayes’s life on purpose. Who you might be working for and if you were really there to clean that house.”

I shook my head. “But I told you, Hayes asked me out. I didn’t go after him.”

Gage laughed then, and although there were crinkles at the corners of his eyes, the gleam in them wasn’t amusement. It was calculating and terrifying. “He was a fucking man. Anyone could have hired you and sent you to wiggle your juicy ass in front of him to get his attention.”

My jaw dropped.

“Shut up,” Huck barked at him.

“We can’t take her to the house. We don’t know if she’s lying or not. What about the shop?” Gage asked.

“The house,” Huck replied.

“Gage is right. That’s not a good idea. Shop is neutral. Everyone knows its location and that you own it,” the driver said.

“We are taking her to the fucking house,” Huck said through clenched teeth.

I closed my mouth and turned my head to look out the window again. What in the world had I gotten myself into? These people were crazy. Who would hire me to go get Hayes’s attention?

“Hayes was going to be a minister,” I said just above a whisper. “I don’t understand why you think someone would have sent me to get close to him.”

I was afraid to look at Gage or Huck. The other guy remained silent as he drove.

“He was a fucking Kingston. Loving Jesus and shit don’t change that. Not in our world,” Gage said as if that made sense.