ready. He wanted badly to pull out his own, to go head-to-head with this man he knew had killed his closest friend. But itwasn’t the time, and it wasn’t the place. He wanted not only the instrument, but also the man who’d given the order. Keeping his gaze locked on the blade, Trace lifted both hands and backed off.
“Listen, you want her that bad, she’s all yours. One woman’s the same as another as far as I’m concerned.” When the man spit at his feet, Trace bent down as if to wipe off his shoe. He came up with a nickel-plated .45 automatic. “Abdul, isn’t it?” The half-amused light in his eyes had become deadly. “I’ve already taken care of your two friends. The only reason I’m not going to put a hole in your head is that I want you to take a message to your boss. Tell him Il Gatto’s going to pay him a visit.” Trace saw the quick widening of the dark eyes and grinned. “You recognize the name. That’s good. Because I want you to know who kills you. Deliver the message, Abdul, and put your affairs in order. You don’t have very long.”
Abdul still had the knife in his hand, but he was aware that a bullet was faster than a blade. He was also aware that Il Gatto was quicker than most. “Il Gatto’s luck will run out, the same as his master’s.”
Trace leveled the gun to a point just under Abdul’s chin. “Yeah, but yours is ticking away right this minute. My finger’s starting to sweat, Abdul. You’d better move.”
He waited until the man had gotten behind the wheel and driven off before he lowered the gun. It had been close, Trace realized as he slipped the gun back into the holster strapped to his calf. He’d nearly taken his revenge there and then. Trace straightened again. When his blood was cool and his mind clear, revenge would be that much sweeter.
He spun quickly when he heard footsteps behind.
Gillian had seen that look before—when she’d told him that Forrester had been murdered. She thought she’d seen it again when her head had been jerked up by the hair. But even now, though she was seeing it for the third time, her skin prickled cold.
“I thought I told you to stay with a crowd.”
“I saw,” she began, then walked over to pick up her bag. It would sound foolish to say she’d stayed close in case he’d needed her help. “I didn’t know you had a gun.”
“You figure I was going to get your brother out with fast talk and a charming smile?”
“No.” She couldn’t meet his eyes now. She’d disliked but at least understood the world-weary, slightly grungy man she’d first met. She’d nearly liked and again had understood the cocky, smart-mouthed man she’d breakfasted with. But this one, this hard-eyed stranger who carried death within easy reach, she didn’t understand at all. “Did you … the other two men, did you … ?”
“Kill them?” He said the word simply as he took her arm and led her back to the Jeep. He’d seen both fear and revulsion in her eyes. “No, sometimes it’s better to leave people alive, especially when you know what’s left of that life is going to be hell. I didn’t get a lot out of either of them. They dropped your brother and the kid at the airport and were sent out for you. They didn’t know where he was being held.”
“How do you know they were telling you the truth?”
“Because these guys are the bottom of the food chain. They haven’t got the brains to lie, especially when they know you’ll slice off little pieces of their bodies.”
The adrenaline washed out of her. “God, then how are we going to find him?”
“I’ve got some leads. And the word is
I
, not
we
. As soon as I find a safe house for you, you’re going under.”
“You’re mistaken.” She stopped in front of the Jeep. Her face was beaded with sweat but no longer pale.
“Sure, we’ll discuss it later. Right now, I want a drink.”
“And as long as you’re working for me, you’ll drink in moderation.”
He swore, but
“Listen, you want her that bad, she’s all yours. One woman’s the same as another as far as I’m concerned.” When the man spit at his feet, Trace bent down as if to wipe off his shoe. He came up with a nickel-plated .45 automatic. “Abdul, isn’t it?” The half-amused light in his eyes had become deadly. “I’ve already taken care of your two friends. The only reason I’m not going to put a hole in your head is that I want you to take a message to your boss. Tell him Il Gatto’s going to pay him a visit.” Trace saw the quick widening of the dark eyes and grinned. “You recognize the name. That’s good. Because I want you to know who kills you. Deliver the message, Abdul, and put your affairs in order. You don’t have very long.”
Abdul still had the knife in his hand, but he was aware that a bullet was faster than a blade. He was also aware that Il Gatto was quicker than most. “Il Gatto’s luck will run out, the same as his master’s.”
Trace leveled the gun to a point just under Abdul’s chin. “Yeah, but yours is ticking away right this minute. My finger’s starting to sweat, Abdul. You’d better move.”
He waited until the man had gotten behind the wheel and driven off before he lowered the gun. It had been close, Trace realized as he slipped the gun back into the holster strapped to his calf. He’d nearly taken his revenge there and then. Trace straightened again. When his blood was cool and his mind clear, revenge would be that much sweeter.
He spun quickly when he heard footsteps behind.
Gillian had seen that look before—when she’d told him that Forrester had been murdered. She thought she’d seen it again when her head had been jerked up by the hair. But even now, though she was seeing it for the third time, her skin prickled cold.
“I thought I told you to stay with a crowd.”
“I saw,” she began, then walked over to pick up her bag. It would sound foolish to say she’d stayed close in case he’d needed her help. “I didn’t know you had a gun.”
“You figure I was going to get your brother out with fast talk and a charming smile?”
“No.” She couldn’t meet his eyes now. She’d disliked but at least understood the world-weary, slightly grungy man she’d first met. She’d nearly liked and again had understood the cocky, smart-mouthed man she’d breakfasted with. But this one, this hard-eyed stranger who carried death within easy reach, she didn’t understand at all. “Did you … the other two men, did you … ?”
“Kill them?” He said the word simply as he took her arm and led her back to the Jeep. He’d seen both fear and revulsion in her eyes. “No, sometimes it’s better to leave people alive, especially when you know what’s left of that life is going to be hell. I didn’t get a lot out of either of them. They dropped your brother and the kid at the airport and were sent out for you. They didn’t know where he was being held.”
“How do you know they were telling you the truth?”
“Because these guys are the bottom of the food chain. They haven’t got the brains to lie, especially when they know you’ll slice off little pieces of their bodies.”
The adrenaline washed out of her. “God, then how are we going to find him?”
“I’ve got some leads. And the word is
I
, not
we
. As soon as I find a safe house for you, you’re going under.”
“You’re mistaken.” She stopped in front of the Jeep. Her face was beaded with sweat but no longer pale.
“Sure, we’ll discuss it later. Right now, I want a drink.”
“And as long as you’re working for me, you’ll drink in moderation.”
He swore, but
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