Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 76446 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76446 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
I knew it was pointless to try to find her.
She was gone.
I had no idea how long I was out, but it was long enough for her to dress - judging by the discarded towel - and leave.
As soon as my head eased up a little bit, I would get out, go back to the compound, see if Janie or Alex could hack into any local traffic cameras to see what way she went in.
The idea of her leaving made my stomach knot.
It made no sense for her to stay.
If her plan was to kill me, she could have done it with no muss while I was out cold. Face in the pillow. No struggling. A child could have done it.
So the plan wasn't to kill me.
That was comforting. In a way. Though, quite frankly, I couldn't have blamed her if that had been her plan. It was a fitting punishment for what I had done.
But if her plan wasn't to kill me, then, well, what the hell was it? Just to shoot me, let me know she knew what I had done.
And then that all those years I thought I was off the radar to just about everyone in the damn world, she had been right there on my tail almost the whole time.
Christ.
All these years, she'd been watching me, analyzing me.
Another thought had me shooting up in bed, ignoring the way the room pitched, the pain intensified.
What if she had been the one to burn me?
It was a hard thing to imagine, given the girl I had known. But then again, she was not the girl I had known. Not anymore. I had made sure of that, hadn't I?
The reality was, I didn't know this Mack at all. I had no idea what she was capable of.
One thing was for sure, she was not someone to be underestimated.
It wasn't easy for someone to get the drop on me. My training had brought me across many continents, exposed me to countless styles of fighting, training techniques. Whatever you threw at me, I could handle at your level. It made a shitty spy if your cover ID was a Russian and you fought like an American.
Everyone had a style, or at least one style that was dominant. Lo and her people up at Hailstorm studied all different kinds of fighting styles, but the girls club usually leaned toward Krav Maga, an Israeli technique that features a lot of disarming techniques and causing the maximum amount of pain as quickly as possible to cripple an opponent before they could come at you. Which made sense for a woman who was likely going up against someone with a lot of weight and height on her.
But Mack?
I had no idea what her style was.
Maybe because it seemed mixed.
Something practiced like Systema but mixed with the unpredictability of street fighting.
She fought dirty too.
I shouldn't have found that intriguing given that I had been on the receiving end of it, but I had to appreciate someone who didn't hesitate, who used your own weaknesses - like my unwillingness to hurt her - against you.
"Fuck," I hissed, dragging myself out of bed, my head slamming, my stomach rolling, my thigh fucking throbbing.
In twenty-four hours, the woman had done more damage to me than anyone had done in over a decade.
Reaching into my pocket, I grabbed a twenty, tossing it on the bed as an apology for my blood on the sheets that the housecleaning staff would likely cringe at, checked around to see if she'd left anything behind, cleaned most of the blood off in the sink, then made my way out, trying to mentally prepare myself for the never-ending shit I was going to get as soon as I made it back into the clubhouse.
When I got there, Lo's guys were out front, and Sugar, Virgin, and Repo were walking the grounds, looking for any other possible weak spots. In the far back, I could see a wheelbarrow and who looked like Wolf handling the tunnel situation.
Taking a deep breath, I grabbed the bag I had picked up on the way, and moved inside, dropping the energy drinks down on the coffee table in front of Janie and Alex, each of whom were both steadily clicking away on their keyboards.
At the clicks, their heads jerked up, smiles tugging at their lips.
"I like her," Janie declared, nodding.
"Judging by those eyes, your head is pounding, huh? What'd she hit you with?" Alex asked.
"First a gun. Then a lamp," I admitted, making her smile spread wider.
"Okay, I like her too," Alex agreed.
"So, we're assuming she got away?" Janie added as Reign moved in from the kitchen.
"Yeah, she was staying at the Hadlet Hotel. Anything you can get..."
"You don't think she's done with you?" Reign asked, dropping down in the chair, eyes moving over my head. "Looks like that could use a stitch or two. Want me to track down Pagan for you?" he asked, lips twitching.