The Dragon (G.O.N.Y. - Double Dragon) Page 7

  “Who are you?”

  “A friend.”

  She didn’t believe him. “You attacked me, attacked my friends.”

  “I wanted to speak with you. Your ‘friends’ wouldn’t let me.”

  “Did you kill them?”

  She wouldn’t be able to cope with the knowledge that people had died to protect her. Delilah! She had to be alive. Her sister was strong. She hadn’t survived cancer to be killed by thugs.

  “I’m losing my patience…”

  Jezebel shook her head. She didn’t have a choice. If she remained under the table, he’d shoot her. If she got out, he’d probably shoot her still, but it might buy her some time.

  Scooting out, she got onto her knees, stuck the gun into her jeans, made sure to cover it with her jacket, and slowly, rose to her feet.

  Three men stood before her. They were all Asian and if she had to guess, she’d say Korean unless Ramsey had enemies from all over the continent!

  “What do you want?” she hissed.

  The man in the middle, the one with the white scar cutting into his upper lip, smiled, his eyes falling to her hands as if searching out a weapon, before lifting up to her face. “Pretty geomdung-i. I can see why he chose you.”

  “What are you talking about?” She was going to play dumb and lie. As of now, that was her strategy. Her only true exit was the door behind them. There was a window to her left, but she was on the second floor. Leaving that way meant at the very least, serious injuries. She couldn’t chance that. She wouldn’t jeopardize her child’s life that way.

  The man only smiled, a cold smile that never reached his calculating eyes. He muttered something in Korean and the two men at his side moved forward, closer to her.

  She took a step back.

  “I don’t want to hurt you, Jezebel.”

  “Who are you?”

  He dipped his head. “Kim. You can call me Kim.”

  “What do you want?” she demanded again.

  “You know what I want.” Kim smiled and looked pointedly at her belly. “That’s why you’re in protective custody, isn’t it? Because you’re a target with his baby—”

  “Whose baby?” She purposely masked her expression with confusion.

  Kim frowned before he lifted a brow and smirked. “Ramsey’s baby.”

  “Ramsey Stone?” She forced a laugh and shook her head. “This isn’t Ramsey’s baby.”

  His smirk faded and he blinked, before his eyes narrowed and he smiled. “You’re lying.”

  “I’m not.” She frowned at him. “Do you really think Ramsey would leave me here if I was pregnant with his child?”

  He seemed to contemplate it for a few seconds, before he drawled, “Then whose baby is it?”

  “Brandon.”

  Kim blinked. “Brandon?”

  “My husband!” She glared at him. “Is he alive? Did you and your thugs hurt him?”

  The man stared at her for long moments, before he shrugged. “Doesn’t matter whose baby is in your belly. Stone just needs to think it’s his.” Kim looked to the two men. “Grab her!”

  Jezebel was reaching for her gun when the sound of gunfire made her drop. Thinking she’d been hit, she began to feel for the blood, for the bullet hole, but quickly realized the gunfire was coming from the hallway and Kim and his men had turned to engage whoever was outside. Crawling around the desk, and over the body of the man she’d killed, she curled into a protective ball to protect her belly and prayed.

  When the gunfire stopped, Jezebel moved enough to pull the gun from her waistband. She heard footsteps approaching.

  “Jezebel?”

  She almost cried. Once, she’d treasured his voice, loved the man to whom it belonged. In the past months, she’d grown to hate everything about him, but right now, his voice sounded heavenly.

  “Jezebel, it’s Ramsey…” He paused as if expecting her to reply. When she didn’t, he continued, “I’m coming around the desk now.”

  Jezebel watched nervously, holding tight to the gun and wondering if her mind was playing tricks on her. Was someone else speaking? Was someone using his voice to trick her? Was she imagining things?

  The first thing she saw was shoes and pants, black shoes, dark pants. He spoke again and she caught snatches of it. Something about moving someone. She needed to see his face. Before she dropped the gun, she needed to make sure she wasn’t…losing it.

  The dead man was pulled away.

  A man slid to his knees, and then Ramsey was staring at her, staring into the barrel of her gun.

  She eyed him closely, taking in the familiar and unfamiliar features. He’d grown a moustache and thin beard, and it made him seem different, older, but his bone structure, obsidian eyes, full yet thin lips, were all the same.

  “Jez…” He scooted closer, and when his hand closed over the gun, she shuddered. His fingers stroked hers softly. “Give me the gun.”

  She shook her head.

  He moved closer, lowering his voice. “You’re safe now, Jezebel. I promise.” She shook her head again. She didn’t believe him. How could she? He’d lied about so many things. This gun wasn’t leaving her side until she could guarantee her safety, her baby’s safety and that of her sister.

  Pulling herself together, she said firmly, “You’re not taking my gun, Ramsey.”

  He stared at her long and hard before he released her hands and nodded. “Okay.” He looked back to the gun. “Can I hold it while you come out?”

  Jezebel thought about it. “You’ll give it back to me?”

  Ramsey instantly nodded. “I swear I will.”

  She wasn’t sure how much his swears and promises were worth considering he was a liar, but she lowered the gun to the floor, carefully stretching her body out to crawl from under the desk. As soon as she lowered the gun, Ramsey picked it up and scooted back to give her space. When she was out, she heard a click and Ramsey handed her the gun.

  Taking it, she stuck it into her waistband, not bothering to cover it with her jacket this time.

  “Are you hurt?” He sounded concerned, even looked it. She wondered how much he knew about her condition.

  With a quick shake of her head, she said firmly, “I need to find my sister.”

  ***

  To say Ramsey Stone was pissed off was a gross understatement.

  The past two weeks had been a whirlwind of activity that had culminated in this very moment. His conversation with Lee had set him on the hunt for Kim, but it was soon confirmed that the man had left the country. He’d had two choices: he could have followed him, which meant leaving the country, which he couldn’t quite do, or he could wait for his return, which according to Lee, who was quite forthcoming with information once he realized he had a high chance of surviving Ramsey’s meat factory, was in a few weeks. So instead of following him to South Korea, Ramsey called in and had him trailed, his every move watched and recorded. As he’d expected, Kim had grown careless in South Korea. That was how Ramsey learned that there was a leak in the FBI who wasn’t his leak.

  It didn’t surprise him as men were willing to kill their own mothers for the amount of money he paid his informants, but the fact that Kim cared enough to pay someone for information on Jezebel’s whereabouts angered him. The only reason Kim would have any interest in Jezebel was because of him. With the knowledge that Kim was interested in Jezebel, Ramsey had sent his men to “watch” her. Three days ago, Lee let him know Kim was back in New York. When the man had told him where, Ramsey had made several phone calls in the span of minutes. First, he called the men who’d moved in a few houses down from Jezebel and told them to be on guard. Next, he called his pilot, and told him he needed the jet ready as soon as possible. Last, he called Vince and told him to assemble a team. Unless he was seeking out new territory for his leader, there was no other reason for Kim to be checked into the Hampton Inn in upstate New York but Jezebel.

  He’d distanced himself from her to avoid this.

  The peo
ple who were closest to him had targets on their backs. Lily, he hadn’t protected, but her death had taught him a lesson and he’d wised up quickly. Hannah, Bastian, Sarah, even Vince, constantly had shadows and took various security measures before they went anywhere. They were closest to him, bound either by blood or marriage.

  Jezebel was not.

  She’d been his attempt at “normal” and Lily’s death had taught him “normal” was something he’d never have. So, he’d distanced himself. Jezebel had fallen in love with a spa owner. If she’d known his true identity, she wouldn’t have even entertained the idea. It had been naïve on his part to think he could keep his “other” side from her, but he’d wanted that life so badly, the life of a regular businessman with a wife he loved, and children.

  “Where are you taking me?”

  Seated across from him, her arms wrapped protectively around her sister, Jezebel watched him warily. They’d been in his jet for almost an hour, and during that time, she hadn’t said a word to him. Delilah, who they’d found huddled over the bleeding body of Brandon Erickson, hadn’t been so quiet. From the moment she’d entered the plane with her sister, to the moment exhaustion kicked in, about half an hour ago, she’d cursed him and everything to do with him while Jezebel held her and glared.

  He hadn’t expected much considering he’d done everything in his power to push Jezebel away, but the woman staring at him only looked like the Jezebel he knew. In her eyes was such coldness and distrust, he doubted he’d ever seen any warmth there where he was concerned.

  And he deserved it. He’d almost gotten her killed.

  “Somewhere safe.”

  “Where?” she snapped, but lowered her voice when Delilah stirred, murmuring something before falling back against her sister in a fitful sleep.

  “My apartment.”

  She shook her head, but kept her angry eyes on his. “I doubt your girlfriend would like that.”

  Confusion must have shown on his face because she amended, “Oh, did you toss her away too? Well, your new girlfriend then. She wouldn’t like having two unknown females in her space, I’m sure.”

  While he could address the “girlfriends” comment, he chose not to. It didn’t matter. “It’s temporary.”

  As soon as Kim, currently knocked out by a heavy dosage of horse tranquilizer, told him what he needed to know, he’d take her to the safest place he knew.

  Her eyes seemed to mist, but she closed them, turned her face away from his and hugged her sister closer. With her eyes off of him, Ramsey allowed his to drop. Her jacket was black and fluffy, two things that would conceal weight or a belly.

  Ramsey gripped his chair tightly and forced himself to breath.

  He hadn’t known she was pregnant. His men hadn’t known either, and looking at her, nothing seemed different but for the slight fullness of her cheeks. But somehow, Kim had known, had assumed the baby was Ramsey’s. It wasn’t such a leap considering they’d been together for many months. But before Ramsey could even process that, could even allow himself to feel anything at the thought of having a child, he’d heard her say it was Brandon’s.

  Just for that, he’d been tempted to let the bastard bleed out. He’d always thought “Eric” had been too close to Jezebel. His eyes were always on her, as if he couldn’t stop himself. He’d probably taken advantage of her sadness and depression over Ramsey, their close proximity, and–fuck! He blinked to get that image out of his head. He should have let him die, but Jezebel had refused to leave unless someone wrapped his wounds. So just to get her out of there, Ramsey told one of his men to do it. She’d wanted them to take him to the hospital as well, but he’d drawn the line there. Brandon’s team would arrive soon enough to patch him up and cover up what had happened. That’s what they were good at: cover-ups.

  “I want my life back,” Jezebel muttered, keeping her eyes closed and shaking her head slowly. “I’m not this person. I’m boring, and by-the-book, and I want my company back. I wish I hadn’t killed that man—”

  “You did what you had to do to protect yourself.”

  Her eyelids opened a fraction and he saw the glimmer of tears. “But you know what I wish most of all?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “I wish I’d never met you. I wish you’d never seen me, wish you’d never taken over for Bryan, and I wish…I wish I could go back and do everything differently.” She closed her eyes again. “You ruined my life, Ramsey.”

  He nodded. Yes, yes, he had.

  ***

  Jezebel awoke to the smell of eggs, bacon, and sausage. Her stomach rumbled and she opened her eyes and looked around. Where was she? The events from last night came rushing back to her and she quickly scrambled up, hugging the bedhead as she frantically searched for the gun. Where was her gun?

  “Hello…?”

  She looked in the direction of the voice and found a woman standing there, holding a tray between her hands and smiling. Confused, Jezebel looked around again and slowly calmed. She was in Ramsey’s apartment. They’d arrived here early this morning. Her sister was in the bedroom next door. She was safe. Unconsciously, her hands went to her belly. The rounded pouch was still there. As if knowing he was being worried over, he suddenly shifted. Jezebel relaxed more. Her baby was fine.

  “I brought you breakfast,” the woman spoke again. Although her English was very good, she had a slight accent.

  She moved closer and set the tray down on the end table.

  “I’m Hannah.” This close Jezebel guessed she was about forty or fifty, definitely too old to be Ramsey’s new girlfriend, though she was still a beautiful woman, even without barely any makeup on. “May I?” She indicated the edge of the bed, and watching her warily Jezebel nodded. “I know you had a difficult morning, so you must be starving, especially with the little one in there.” Hannah smiled softly. “What would you like first? Some tea? Orange juice? Or some toast, eggs and bacon?”

  Everything sounded delicious, but before Jezebel ate anything, she needed to know, “Who are you?”

  The woman smiled again. “Hannah.”

  Jezebel shook her head. She knew her name. “Are you the cook?”

  Hannah chuckled. “In a few months, you’ll learn that you’re everything: cook, driver, maid, nurse, whatever they need.”

  “You’re his mother?”

  Something in the way she said it must not have been very nice, because Hannah’s smile dimmed a bit before she nodded. “Yes, I’m Ramsey’s mother.” When Jezebel only stared at her, she asked, “So, would you like tea or juice?”

  Jezebel remembered a time when she’d wanted to meet the woman, if only to be sure Ramsey wasn’t embarrassed of her. Now, she didn’t care.

  “What type of tea?”

  “Green,” Hannah said instantly. “When I was pregnant with Ramsey, I couldn’t drink any other type.”

  “The tea, please.” She wasn’t going to share that she preferred green tea too. She’d tried other teas only to run for the toilet bowl faster than usual. Sometimes, a dash of mint worked in it too, after a bout of throwing up.

  Hannah beamed. Once Jezebel was holding the warm teacup, the woman continued, “Toast? Eggs? Bacon? Sausages? All?”

  “All.” Her stomach clenched in anticipation. What time was it? She looked around until her eyes caught sight of a clock. She’d arrived somewhere around four in the morning. It was now two in the afternoon.

  “Very good,” Hannah approved. “The best part of being pregnant is that you get to eat everything.”

  Hannah spoke as Jezebel ate, watching her and listening, but choosing to remain quiet. She wasn’t being purposely rude, but she didn’t feel very talkative at the moment, especially to Ramsey’s mother. Finally, when she was finished, the woman took her utensils, and said, “I’ll take these down. Why don’t you have a bath or get some more sleep?”

  When she was almost to the door, Jezebel remembered her manners. “Hannah?”

  The woman turned around with lifted brows and a smile.<
br />
  “Thank you.”

  ***

  When Ramsey stepped into his apartment, he was greeted by his mother. Before he could move to the staircase, she approached, wiping her hands on a dishcloth.

  “Jezebel’s awake.”

  He lifted a brow. “Oh?”

  “Yes. She had something to eat and is either taking a shower or sleeping.”

  “Good.”

  He tried to step around Hannah but she caught his arm. “What are you doing, Ramsey?”

  “Excuse me?”

  Hannah glared up at him. “Months ago, you broke that girl’s heart, and now you bring her here, to your home?”

  “Omma—”

  “I know it’s none of my business but she’s pregnant!”

  He grit his teeth. Yes, he knew that well. Just as he knew, after a thorough questioning, Kim had learned of her pregnancy by having his men trail her for months, and paying off one of her doctors. While he was hoping Jezebel would be dismissed as an uninteresting ex who’d gone into Wit-Sec because of her affiliation with him, Kim had been hunting Jezebel for months, waiting for the perfect time to strike. Learning she was pregnant had been that time.

  “Omma, I know what I’m doing.”

  Hannah sighed and shook her head. “Do you, Ramsey? Do you really?” She tossed the dishcloth over one shoulder and caught his hand in both of hers. “Do you know why I’m still here? Why I haven’t returned to Seoul?”

  Ramsey frowned. When he’d asked his mother to stay for a few more months, she’d instantly agreed. He wanted her close to him for her protection. If they could attack Lily, his niece, what was to prevent an attack on his mother?

  “You think I’m staying here because I’m afraid of Chang Chul-Moo and his tiny Mob?” Hannah scoffed. “I’m a mother first, a wife second, and I know when my child needs me.”

  Ramsey was already shaking his head, when her glare put a stop to it.

  “You’d like to think you don’t need anybody, right? That you can handle all of this on your own?”