The Kendall Family: Riley Part 8

"Any guy who isn't gay would be interested in you," remarked Tristan, eyes appraising her.

Sophia jabbed him with an elbow. "I'm gonna tell Victoria you said that."

Tristan shrugged.

"Anyway," began Jordan, smiling about their banter, "I was nineteen when I discovered Jake was having an affair. Actually, lots of affairs. I guess I should've known better. I broke it off with him and we couldn't work together anymore. We had a fight-that's where the scar on his face came from. I know he never forgave me for that, being vain like he was. I told Thomas I wanted out, but he refused to let me go, so I split. Just disappeared. Or so I thought."

"He found you?" Riley asked.

"Sort of. He came close a few times, or people working for him did. I had to keep running. I've been doing it for years."

Connor asked, "What did you do while on the run? And for how long was that?"

"A few years. And I continued working as a sniper because I didn't have much choice."

"Of course you did," Kris interrupted. "There are plenty of ways to make a living without killing people."

"Not when you're being hunted all the time," Jordan responded. "I'd made a few contacts of my own, but it didn't matter. Thomas put out the word that I'd gone rogue, as he put it, and was not to be trusted or hired. I think he must've had a thing for me because I suspect he would've put a kill order out for me. Instead, I was left alone but had trouble finding work. If I settled down, trouble showed up in some way, like being fired without warning, or my credit being ruined. Any new ident.i.ty didn't last long. I haven't talked to my family in years for fear that Thomas would do something or use them against me. He made it clear he wanted me back."

"How did you get by?" Chloe asked.

"The few jobs I took paid pretty well, so I didn't have to do anything too often, but it wasn't pleasant. I had no friends for fear they'd get used against me. I had no boyfriends. No contact with family. I just wanted to go back to the life I had before my parents were killed, even though that was impossible."

"That sounds pretty lonely," Chloe remarked.

Not used to sympathy, Jordan felt emotions surge at the words. "It was. That's not why I went back to Thomas, though. I was running out of options. I almost got caught when my old ID forgery techniques weren't enough to get me past Interpol. Technology had changed and I wasn't up to snuff on more recent techniques for that or other things. I was tired of all of it and wanted out. I ended up going back to Thomas."

"Why, if you wanted out?" Quinn asked.

"In a way, you're right," she began, "but he promised to update my skillset and take me back as long as I agreed to stop asking for so many details on why I was being sent for a job. I know they'd been sick of my independence, and I was sick of being forced to kill people on someone else's orders. Jake was to remain out of the picture, and we weren't to work together anymore."

"How long ago was this?" Riley asked.

"Weeks back. The first job they sent me out on was for you. I had no idea he was going to send Jake to kill me, which makes me wonder why they didn't just do it in Paris."

Riley said, "Maybe Jake's phone will provide some answers. Where'd you put it?"

"Back in your house."

"Let's go get it then," he said, rising.

"I thought you can't get in," Chloe remarked, watching Jordan get up, too.

Riley winked at her. "It's just police tape. We'll be fine."

Jordan pursed her lips, downed the rest of her wine, and cast a glance at Riley's family, wondering what they thought of her now. Most had seemed genuinely interested and not judgmental, but as Jordan left, her eyes fell on Kris, who stared back with a stone-faced expression that did little to rea.s.sure her.

Chapter 9 A Hot Summer Night.

With Jordan following, Riley stepped off the porch at Quinn's house and headed past the colorful cars-Connor's blue BMW, Tristan's yellow Mustang, and Chloe's red Infiniti G37-in the driveway and toward his house, where no police activity remained. A lawn and line of trees separated the homes, which were connected by his driveway. Instead of walking on that, he followed a flagstone walk he'd put in years ago at Chloe's suggestion. She'd reasoned that it looked better than the dirt path their feet had long ago carved across the gra.s.s, and he had to agree, especially when she added little solar-powered lanterns that now glowed white in the night. It had been a long day and he let out a sigh, eyeing the crescent moon high above Sugarloaf Mountain.

"How are you holding up?" he asked Jordan, who kept pace beside him.

Her eyebrows briefly rose before she shrugged. "Okay, I guess. Surprised you're asking."

"Why? Do I seem the indifferent type?"

"No, not at all. I'm just not used to anyone caring how I'm doing," she admitted, suppressing a frown he saw.

"The life you described sounds pretty lonely."

She shrugged again and he could tell she tried to ignore that by pretending, even to herself, that she didn't care about such things. "You get used to it."

"Maybe you don't need to be used to it anymore."

She glanced at him. "Why's that?"

Part of him wanted to suggest that she try some time with him, but he tended to be more factual than mushy. If that happened, it happened. No sense in suggesting it. "The man who's been coercing you into these things will be dead soon. Then you can live your life."

Not sounding like she meant her next words, she replied, "Yeah, that would be great, but I'm not sure what life I want to live. I haven't had anything else in a long time."

"There must be something you want to do."

"Yeah, not look over my shoulder all the time. Otherwise, I don't think about any other life than what I have."

"Because it's unreachable?" Once he said it, Riley decided to let it go, and she didn't answer. He could imagine that wanting a life you didn't have-or even any kind of life-would be upsetting, and that he shouldn't try to make her think about it. He knew firsthand that putting things from your mind could help you get by. He hadn't endured any huge hardships, since he considered being a Marine an honor and privilege, despite all the brutally exhausting work, but the fact is he'd killed people. Over a hundred in his eight years as a sniper. He didn't always know why he got the kill orders other than that the target was an enemy of the United States, which he'd sworn to protect.

Still, no matter what you tell yourself, you're still killing people. You can't even say it's self-defense when you do it from a thousand yards. You tell yourself other things about this being part of a larger picture of war, and that while the person you're killing may not be threatening you directly, they are still a threat to what you hold dear. But that kind of thing wears thin after a while, and you wonder if that's what terrorists in particular are thinking when they blow themselves up in a suicide bombing.

Just like the one that had killed her parents. Funny thing is, the people he was most proud of killing were exactly those guys. He'd done it nine different times, picking off someone just seconds before they were to detonate a bomb and kill everyone around them. Talk about a pressure shot. And that's just the thing-to keep going, to stay cool and focused, you tell yourself what you have to about your life and what you're doing. To keep doing it. To survive. To not be the one in a body bag.

Like Jake.

And so if Jordan didn't think about any future other than being forced by Thomas to kill people, then it wasn't Riley's place to make her go there. There'd be time enough later for her to think about it.

In the short time they'd have here before leaving for France, he could give her some taste of normalcy. It sounded like she desperately needed it. No one knew she was here except Thomas, who was expecting her to be dead right about now. And maybe if Thomas thought Jake succeeded, he'd let her go.

Unlike Kris, who'd shown little sign of forgiving Jordan after hearing her story, Riley felt only sympathy for her. He'd been almost the same age when his father died in an accident. A few years later, his mother died from cancer. One sudden death, one prolonged demise. Neither compared to your parents being murdered and wanting revenge for their deaths. That she'd pulled that off at sixteen had impressed him, and it wasn't the first time he'd admired her. It likely wouldn't be the last.

Despite her apparent "I can take care of myself" att.i.tude, he wanted to bolster her, lend her some strength, and frankly, plant a deep kiss on her. He felt both protective and non-smothering. He'd do what he could to help her, but give her s.p.a.ce to help herself. She seemed to have some pride he liked, but that might make her resist offers of help if he came across as thinking she couldn't handle herself. She might've felt sensitive to him having captured her, too, so he had to watch it. He glanced at her and saw darkness in her troubled eyes.

"Don't worry, Jordan," Riley began, "we're gonna find and kill Thomas together, for both of our sakes. Then we'll both take it from there."

Pursing her lips, she remarked, "I'm not gonna get my hopes up until I see his corpse with my own eyes."

"Think we'll fail?"

"I don't know. It's a few days off and we have a lot to do before then. We don't even have a plan."

"We can start on that tomorrow. The cops don't want us to leave just anyway, I'm sure, though they can't stop us, so we have time to think of something."

"I'm not a huge fan of the authorities snooping around."

"Then maybe you should stop doing bad things." He smirked.

She rolled her eyes.

By now they'd reached his house, where yellow police tape covered the front door and upper bedroom window Jake had used. The other entrances were likely the same, but the police didn't put tape across the garage. He tapped the code into the wall control and waited while the door went up.

"Didn't you just tell me to stop committing crimes?" Jordan asked.

"Try not to touch anything." Riley strode into the garage and opened the interior door to step into the house, not turning on any lights on the off chance a cop pulled up again.

"Even this?" Jordan squeezed his a.s.s.

For an answer, he took her hand and led her to the stairs, stepping over the outline of Jake's body on the floor. No one had died in this house before and he hoped this first time would be the last time. On reaching the top of the stairs, he suggested, "Take me to where you hid everything."

"Okay." Jordan gripped his hand and drew him to the stash of items the cops had overlooked. Then they sat on the bed with everything. She unlocked Jake's phone. "Let's see what's on this."

They put their heads together as Jordan flipped through some apps to get a feel for the contents. Riley put an arm around her shoulders, feeling pleased when she leaned into him. His c.o.c.k stirred.

Jordan said, "I'll switch it to English so you can read it. You don't read French?"

"No. Can you read other languages, too?"

"Russian, some German, Spanish, and Italian."

"Did you live in all those countries?"

"Some, yeah. I learned to speak enough to get by. Let's check the texts, first." She launched the messenger app and saw a conversation with only one other person, indicated by a "T". Just like she'd done. She scrolled to the top and began reading, having already noted that this was a new phone with a history of only a few days.

Jacques: Missed my flight. Next one not until tomorrow Thomas: Great. WTF?

J: Relax T: Now I have to tell her to stall J: She'll live. At least another day anyway!

T: Funny. Need to find a decent reason J: Tell her there's a second target. She won't know that's her :) T: You know how she is with questions J: f.u.c.k her. That'll be the last question she'll ever ask. b.i.t.c.h should do what's she's told. Wouldn't be dead soon otherwise T: You gone stupid? This is not encrypted, dumbs.h.i.t J: Yeah ok. Talk tomorrow T: Don't f.u.c.k up J: :).

Jordan sighed. "Wow. Well I guess there's no doubt now."

"Yeah," Riley agreed, "and now we know why he wanted you to wait a day."

They continued scrolling for the next messages.

Jacques: Here.

Thomas: Where exactly is here?

J: Comus. Drove past target property.

T: Told Jordan to hold off earlier. She was about to take shot.

J: K. I'm on mountain behind. In car. Gonna go down and take a look. Taking gear just in case T: Be careful. No idea where she went in meantime J: Ask her T: Will ask tomorrow what her plan is for timing. Don't be seen J: No s.h.i.t. Thx for advice T: And I better get my pics J: Don't worry. I want a pic of her with my bullet in her forehead. Will put on wall. Cherish forever "f.u.c.king a.s.shole!" Jordan suddenly yelled, startling Riley. She jumped to her feet, throwing the phone on the bed. There'd been no shortage of hostility between her and Jake during and after the breakup, though he'd been carefully neutral after her return. But part of her still hadn't believed he'd meant to kill her today. That was ridiculous, of course, with the multiple shots he'd taken, but a seed of doubt had lived in the back of her mind anyway.

Until now. She wanted to know the reason for it. That she'd scarred his face couldn't really be enough, could it? Only Thomas could tell her that now, and she swore he'd do exactly that. Just before she killed the son of a b.i.t.c.h.

But what really got to her just now was the idea of her with Jake's bullet wound in her forehead and a cherished picture of it for him to admire. She'd been objectified before, of course. It practically came with being a woman. But this was a more obscene version of it that had ignited all of her bad emotions about Jake, her first and only boyfriend, the guy who'd taken her virginity at sixteen and taught her everything she knew about love.

Or what she'd believed was love. She'd doubted that after a few years, even before learning he'd been cheating on her. The sting of her foolishness still remained. Now she was glad he'd died here instead of her. If Riley hadn't saved her life today, she'd never have known Jake had been the one to fire the shot. She turned to look at the Marine, who sat watching her with that softness she'd seen in his eyes right before shooting at him. Jake had never looked at her like that.

Was Riley different? Was any man? How was she supposed to trust one after this? All the years she'd spent alone didn't seem so bad suddenly. At least she'd had no one to let her down. She'd never let her guard down again without knowing why Jake had wanted to kill her, whether a guy with Riley's eyes was looking at her like that or not. She almost wished he'd stop it, even though she'd been dying to be looked at that way for as long as she could remember.

"Are you okay?" Riley asked, breaking her thoughts.

She turned away and lied, "Yeah." Jordan heard him get off the bed and approach, his footfall surprisingly light for a man with his powerful frame.

"It's not every day we have someone try to kill us. And when it's so personal."

She sighed and turned back to him, wanting to pretend he was as kind he seemed to be. "Let's not talk about it anymore. Is there any more to the texts?"

"No."

"Okay. We know Thomas isn't expecting anymore until tomorrow, so let's look over the phone more then. I think I've had enough for today."

"Then let's get out of here."

As they headed for the stairs, she asked, "Is there somewhere we can go besides your brother's house? I know they aren't comfortable with me. I don't blame them. I just want to be, well, a little quiet for a while."

"Sure. I have an idea. It's nice out. Let's take a walk."

"To where?"

"A surprise."

She c.o.c.ked an eyebrow. "I've had enough surprises for one day, too."

Riley smiled. "Fair enough. It's called Sunrise Meadow. A short walk from here. We tend to go there for peace and quiet, and sometimes to celebrate things. Why don't I grab a few beers to bring?"

"Perfect."

They soon made it to the kitchen, where Riley took two six packs of Guinness, chips, hummus, a cheese dip and guacamole, peanuts, and pistachios. Giving her a pat on the a.s.s, he went to the hall and returned with a blanket he threw over one shoulder and a cooler bag he put the rest into before grabbing napkins, a bottle opener, and a flashlight. Jordan popped two of the beers open and took a swig before handing him one. Then they went back out through the garage and began walking toward the target range. To one side, a path opened up and they went that way across the gra.s.sy fields, dim moonlight streaming over them.

Between swigs of beer, Jordan said, "I can honestly say I had no idea this was how the day was going to end."