Chapter Twenty - seven

Agent Mission Log Entry:

I guess it’s true. God really does protect children, drunks, and fools.

Which category do we fall in? I’ll give you three guesses.

And the first two don’t count.



“This is so fucking thin,” Jon said for the hundredth time, pinching the ultra thin material at his left hip and pulling it out slightly from his body, only to let it go and watch it snap back into place. The suit fit him like a glove from neck to knees. “Are you sure this’ll stop a bullet?”

Gabby was trying to ignore how good he looked standing there in the middle of his bedroom in something that showed more than it hid. Every muscle was outlined and well defined, the material even cupped his sleeping cock, revealing he was far more endowed than the second grader he claimed to resemble. “Well, yeah,” she told him with a nod, her voice slightly testy, “as long as he doesn’t prefer a head shot.”

Jon blinked owlishly at her, before pretending to dust lint off his left shoulder. “Well, at least it won’t show under the new Armani.”

She rolled her eyes. Surely, that wasn’t the only thing he was worried about. They had went over and over the plan for the evening until she’d been blue in the face. It was agreed that he would stay close to her, and to listen to any direction and do as he was told, without questions. Richie was going with them; there had been no talking him out of being a part of this hare-brained scheme. She warned that she only had the one suit, so he was not allowed to do anything stupid.

Like step between Jon and a bullet.

“No, it won’t.” She shook her head slightly, with a small grin curving her lips. “I know how thin it is, I had it in my purse that first night.”

He remembered that tiny little purse she’d had with her that first night when they’d met. “Really?” Surprise was not only in his voice but on his face as well.

“Yes, really.”

And again, he asked, “You’re sure this’ll stop a bullet?”

“Hey Kidd,” Richie said, sticking his head in the door, “ya gotta tie I can borrow?” Then he got a good look at what Jon was wearing and burst into laughter.

Jon’s eyes went frosty, and his head tilted sharply to one side as his chin rose a few notches toward the ceiling. “What’s so fucking funny?” he demanded.

“Where’s your cape?” Richie choked between guffaws, “And you never mentioned this was a costume party.”

“Laugh it up, Mook.” Jon’s voice was tinged heavily with frost. “This is gonna quite possibly save my life. Can you say the same about your underwear?”

“Who says I’m wearing any?” was Richie’s quick comeback, as he came fully into view, stepping into Jon’s bedroom.

“OK, that’s way more than I wanted to know about you,” Gabriella laughed.

Richie walked around Jon as he eyed the suit. “How is this gonna save you?”

Blue eyes shifted to Gabriella, preparing for an explosion. “It’s the latest in personal protection,” he paused meaningfully, “in the future.” Richie raised an eyebrow in question, and Gabby remained silent, so he went on. “According to Gabbs, it’s a bullet proof body suit.”

Richie reached out, pinching the material at Jon’s left shoulder. “Really? This is so thin. Are you sure it’ll stop a bullet?”

Losing all patience, Gabriella rolled her eyes and shrugged one shoulder, even as she pulled her Sig from it’s resting place at the small of her back. She pointed the gun straight at Jon’s chest. “Shall we test it?”

The two men started talking at the same time, at a speed that almost made them unintelligible.

“No, no,” Jon began waving his hands in front of himself. “That’s okay.”

“That’s okay. I’ll take your word for it, “ Richie was assuring her, even as he took quick steps backwards, away from Jon.

“Fine, then,” she managed without laughing. “I’m going to leave you to finish dressing, and I’ll go get ready to leave.”




Two hours later, Jon stood next to Richie in a crowded ballroom. White linen cloths draped over round tables adorned with fine black china and the finest of silverware. Beautiful centerpieces made up of a combination of flowers and candles were on every table. Across the sea of tables from where the two of them stood was a small stage, more of a raised dais, with a podium set up for the speeches that would come later.

Jon watched Gabby weave her way through the tables as she made her way back to them. She’d left them only moments before to go have a look around the place, to check for other entrances and exits, looking for potential security problems. She wore the same dress and heels that she’d worn the first night he’d met her. Her long hair was twisted up in some sort of braid that didn’t fall down her back, but was somehow tucked up and hidden, much like the gun he knew was in a holster on her thigh.

The three of them had walked the red carpet together while the paparazzi had snapped photos. Gabriella had ignored the questions that a few of them had tossed out, asking who she was and if she was Jon’s date. The news of his imminent divorce had hit the papers only days after she’d arrived. Jon and Richie had posed for pictures, both together and separately; Jon’s tight smile would be splashed across several papers’ page six columns the next day, but he didn’t care. It was all standard procedure.

Except for the assassin that was out to kill him.

When she finally reached the two men, she moved to stand on Jon’s left. “How much longer before we can get outta here?” Her question was little more than a whisper, as she leaned sideways toward Jon.

From Jon’s right, Richie laughed softly. “You’re joking right?” He didn’t even look her way as he asked the question. “He’s making a speech later.”

“What?” she demanded. Somehow, she managed not to glare at him. In fact, she managed to continue to smile while observing the roomful of people. “How is it that you managed to leave that important detail out of your explanation of the evening’s events?” She took a deep breath, as he opened his mouth to answer. She spoke first. “Never mind. I’m sure I don’t wanna hear it.”

It seemed like a millennium had passed, but it was only a little over an hour later, when Jon was called up to the podium. Her eyes scanned the room as she listened to Jon talk about the responsibility everyone shares to take care of their fellow man.

“We are our brother’s keeper,” he said to the assembled group of wealthy and powerful people. He continued to expound upon the necessity to help others and the joy it brings, and she had no trouble seeing the man he would become in her time. He was very good at public speaking, and apparently he always had been.

Her gaze moved from person to person quickly, as she watched for any of them to make a suspicious move. She didn’t relax her guard, not even when Jon returned to their table and someone else stepped up to the microphone.

“I didn’t make too big a fool of myself, did I?” he asked as he scooted his chair closer to the table.

Her eyes snapped to his. Was he serious? “Of course not. You’ve always been very articulate.”

Richie shook his head slightly. “He always worries.”

“He shouldn’t,” she said casually, reaching for her water glass.

“Can we leave now, Dad?” Richie asked with a grin.

Jon rolled his eyes. “In a few.”


Barely an hour had passed, when the three of them were making their way toward the door, Jon and Richie saying their goodbyes as they went. They were shaking hands with a few old acquaintances at the door, while Gabby’s eyes searched the line of cars lined up along the curb for their limo and driver. Finally she spotted him, four cars back from the entrance.

She linked her arm in Jon’s, their signal for him to end his conversation and follow her. His eyes met hers, and she tilted her head toward the car, opening her mouth to tell him the car was that way. That’s when she saw the red laser dot on his left shoulder, it seemed to slide in slow motion diagonally down toward his heart. “Move, “ she ordered tersely, tugging him toward the car and out of the path of the dot.

For once, Richie didn’t joke or tease. He moved quickly, stepping up to Jon’s other side and pulling him sharply toward the car. Loudly, as if on cue, he said, “The car’s over here, Kidd.”

With Gabby’s tug, then Richie’s pull, they managed a little zigzag motion without being too obvious. Gabby’s eyes scanned the rooftops across the street, trying to find the sniper’s hiding spot even as the trio headed for the car.

There. The roof at her one o’clock. “Got him,” she whispered, as she started toward the building, only to stop and turn back toward Jon.

He was almost to the car. “Go,” Jon ordered, “don’t let him get away.”

“Not until you’re in the car,” she replied, with a negative shake of her head.

He opened his mouth to argue, but the force of the bullet knocked the breath out of him, and he fell back against Richie. That’s when things went black. He heard Gabby demanding that Richie get him in the car, just as he lost consciousness.

Gabriella didn’t wait for the driver to jump out of the car and open the door; she jerked it open quickly, telling Richie to get Jon inside, before she was running toward the building and the sniper.

Richie shoved Jon in the car, and was sliding in beside him before the front man had even landed on the seat.

Chapter Twenty - six

Agent Mission Log Entry:

Jon is a stubborn fucking jackass.

Just throwing that out there.


“I know,” Jon sighed into the phone, “I’ll be there.” He shook his head as he disconnected the call. As bad as he’d like to skip tonight’s charity gala, he had committed himself months ago. Now, he turned his chair to face the window behind his desk. He loved this view, but Gabby would completely lose it if she walked in right now and saw the heavy drapes open making him a target to the assassin. A small smile that didn’t even crinkle the corners of his eyes danced on his lips. If the killer wanted him, now would be a good time to do it, but at this point he couldn’t even rake up a desire to care.

He knew when he told Gabby that he was going out tonight, there would be fireworks, of the worst kind, but he wasn’t the kind to hide in his cave while the world passed him by, and he wasn’t going to start doing it now. To be honest, he was hoping to convince Gabby to use him as bait to catch the killer, so that this could finally all be over.

And he could get down to some serious Gabby hunting.

It had been three days since the explosion in the den. A three day game of cat and mouse. He spent almost every waking moment trying to get her alone so they could talk, but she was an expert at dodging him or creating a buffer between them. And not only had she used Richie in her plot to never be alone with him, but Janet had been drafted as well.

There had been a time in his life when sex had been about nothing more than a piece of ass, but he was too old for that shit now. He had long out-grown the adolescent keeping score mentality, and now preferred a much more adult relationship. However, he wasn’t even sure he could have that with Gabby; their situation was anything but normal. But, he sure would like to try.

Gabby was strong, stubborn and independent. There wasn’t anything about her that was shy or demure. She was sassy, sexy and interesting.

In short, she intrigued him.


It was time they had a chat. He had given Janet the day off, and Richie wasn’t even awake yet. A predatory smile stretched his full lips, as he stood up. He was going searching for his little mouse.


Gabriella smiled to herself as she poured herself another cup of coffee. It had been rather easy to avoid Jon these past three days. Easier than she had originally thought. Richie had made a great buffer, and she was even starting to suspect that he knew what she was up to and was even helping her, probably in an effort to annoy his friend. The only problem had been that the guitarist was a late riser, so she’d had to enlist Janet’s unknowing aid in the hours between her rising and Richie’s.

She glanced at her watch, wondering where Janet was. The older woman should have been there by now. Gabriella had already made sure the penthouse was secure, and had two cups of coffee. Usually the housekeeper arrived either while she was making her first perimeter check of the morning, or immediately after.

Turning to leave the kitchen, she stopped so quickly that coffee sloshed out of her cup onto the gray stone floor. Jon stood in the doorway, casually leaning against the frame. Why hadn’t she heard him approach? She wanted to kick herself in the ass - she was slipping.

With a predatory smirk on his full lips and no shirt on that sculpted chest, he was one big piece of eye candy. But, as sweet as her tooth had suddenly gotten, she couldn’t afford to have another taste.

His voice was low and inviting, just a hint of a growl. “You’ve been avoiding me,” he accused, the smirk growing just a little.

The man/woman game of saying one thing but meaning another had never been Gabby’s forte. She wanted to stall, to play off his statement with ‘What do you mean?’, but that just wasn’t her. So, as blunt and straight to the point as always, she looked him straight in the eye. “Yeah. And?”

Jon’s smirk turned into a beautifully adorable, boyish grin. It was a smile that reached his eyes, making them crinkle slightly at the corners. He almost looked as if he were proud of her response. “That’s over, mouse.”

She was indignant. “Mouse?”

He nodded once. “Yeah, mouse. As in,” he paused and pointed to himself, “cat,” his finger changed direction to point at her, “mouse.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” she almost growled, even as she glanced over his shoulder longingly at the only means of escape.

Jon chuckled softly. “Janet’s not gonna come in to save you. I gave her the day off. And unless you want to take your life in your own hands by waking up the bear that is Richie in the morning...” he left the sentence dangling, as he shook his head slightly.

“I have a gun,” she remarked quickly, “I think I could handle the bear.”

“Yeah, but that’s not the way to get him on your side.”

She did growl then. She hated when he was right. “What do we need to talk about? Why hash out the mistake? Let’s just agree that it can’t happen again, forget it ever happened and move on?”

Their lovemaking hadn’t been the only thing he’d wanted to discuss, but the suggestion that he forget it happened, moved it to the top of the list. He stepped forward quickly, still blocking her only exit. He skimmed one long finger along her jaw, and his voice dropped several octaves to a sexy, growly whisper. “How am I supposed to forget what you taste like? How it feels to be inside you?”

Her resolve started melting away; he was deadly.

He moved in closer, his lips moving to her neck. “How you looked moving above me as you came for me?” His lips trailed down the side of her throat, until he could lick the hollow at her collarbone.

Sucking in a deep breath, Gabby raked up the strength to take a step back. “Don’t.”

He could hear the pleading in her voice. Instinct almost made him go in for the kill, but he wouldn’t push her into something that she obviously didn’t want...right now. And, there were other things they needed to discuss, things more pressing than his cock straining against the back of his zipper. He took a step back as well.

Throwing ice water on the situation seemed like a good idea. “I have to go out tonight,” he said matter-of-factly as he stepped around her and headed for the coffee pot.

“What?” she demanded. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?”

“You’ve been avoiding me, remember?” he threw that out with a smug little grin. He looked over his shoulder to find her stare trying to carve a freight train size hole in his back. “I tried to get out of it, but it’s a charity thing I agreed to months ago.” He shrugged, negligently, “Can’t back out now.”

Gabby closed her eyes, took a deep breath and counted to ten. She was fully aware that she was not in control of this situation. She was here to protect him, not keep him prisoner in his home until she could catch the assassin. It would have been nice to have more notice than this, but that was her fault as well.

“So I was thinking,” Jon’s words stopped her conversation with herself. “We should think of this as an opportunity too good to waste. We should make it so tempting for this guy to get a shot at me that he won’t turn it down.”

Gabby frowned at him. “You mean use you as bait?” her voice was slightly raised in surprise.

“Yeah, why not?” Jon asked with a shrug.

“You mean besides the obvious answer?” she demanded.

Like a zombie, Richie entered the kitchen then, seeming totally focused on the coffee pot on the counter. “Don’t mind me; I just need coffee.”

“Oh c’mon, Mouse,” Jon said with a grin. “You’re good. You can protect me.”

“Mouse?” Richie asked, taking his cup to the bar. He didn’t seem to notice or care that he was being ignored.

Her eyes narrowed at the new nickname, but there was no other response to indicate her mood. “And if I can’t?”

“You will,” he sounded so sure.

“This is not a good idea,” she ground out.

“Oh, good morning, Rich,” Richie said into his coffee cup. “G’morning,” Richie responded to his own greeting.

“He’ll only get one shot,” Jon told her.

“He’ll only NEED one,” she yelled. Was he a simpleton?

“How’d you sleep, Rich?” Richie asked his coffee. “Oh, like a baby,” he answered.

“You will protect me,” Jon said with determination, as if by his will alone she’d do it. “And you’ll get this guy.”

Gabby whirled around to look at Richie. “What do you think?”

His coffee cup no longer holding his attention, Richie’s head jerked up as if pulled with an invisible string. “What?”

With heavy sarcasm, she spoke more slowly. “What...do...you...think?”

With a smirk, Jon said, “Yeah, Rich, what do you think?”

“Oh, NOW, I’m in the room? NOW, you two wanna talk to me?” Richie growled. “Nope,” he shook his shaggy head slightly, “it doesn’t work like that.” Then he took a big sip of coffee, effectively ignoring them.

Jon scoffed. “Since when do you pass up a chance to put your two cents worth into a conversation?”

Richie looked up from his cup, to quickly scan the room. Then, he shrugged and took another sip of his java. “Ah,” he sighed, “the nectar of the Gods.”

“Oh c’mon, Richie,” Gabby pleaded. “I know you’ve got to think this is as crazy as I do.”

With a chuckle, Jon shook his head. “Nope. Rich would never side with someone against me. He’s always got my back.”

Richie rolled his eyes, and shook his head slightly. “You two are so damn comical that it’s almost sad.” At their matching stunned expressions, he went on, “First, I might always have your back,” he said to Jon, “but I don’t always side with you. Usually, I choose your side because you’re paying me,” he grinned devilishly. “This time I’m siding with you because you’re right.”

“You think using him as bait is the right thing to do?” Gabriella almost choked on her words.

The boyish grin on his face melted away to a serious and solemn expression. “I know Jon, better than anyone. He’s lasted a lot longer than I thought he would. I know that I couldn’t continue standing around with my thumb up my ass waiting on this guy to make a move, and Jon is more impatient than me.”

“I’d rather be proactive, than reactive,” Jon announced.

For long seconds, Gabriella just stared at the two of them. Finally, she sighed deeply. “Fine, if you insist on playing the hero, I’ve got something for you.”