Final Day Read online

  Chapter Two

  Erick

  Erick was tackled to the ground, and Tarr’s voice was in his ear. “Should have known they were nearby.”

  Tarr rolled them under Erick’s SUV as more bullets pinged off of the side of the car. “That was lucky,” Tarr said as they rolled out the other side and crouched behind a tire. “They will not miss again.”

  “Look, I’m not who they’re after. Maybe I can surrender and distract them.”

  Tarr gave him a withering look. “That is a terrible fucking idea.”

  Erick wrenched himself from Tarr’s grasp. “Worth a try.”

  “Lee!” Tarr shouted, just as Erick extended his hand around the other side of the car.

  “Don’t shoot!” Erick called, right before peeking his head out so they’d see his black hair instead of Tarr’s hat.

  A bullet flew past Erick so close that he was pretty sure he had a bullet track in his hair. Tarr yanked him back behind the SUV. “You really are a fucking nutjob.”

  “I told you to run,” Erick said.

  “And I didn’t listen because I knew there was no point, dumbass.”

  Erick held up a finger. “Okay, fine. But one thing to note—they did, in fact, miss again.”

  Tarr looked like his head was going to explode. “If we get out of this alive, I’m going to punch you, really hard, right in the face.”

  “Thanks for informing me of your future plans,” Erick said. “How about we focus on the plan that gets us away from the guys trying to shoot us?”

  Hissing sounded, and the SUV began to sink. Erick threw up his hands. “Are you shitting me? I just got this truck! Brand-new tires.”

  “You can send them the invoice,” Tarr snapped. “Okay, listen. This is the plan. You cover me—”

  His voice was drowned out by the sound of an approaching car—engine roaring, a muscle car. Erick smiled because he knew exactly who was driving.

  “Why are you smiling?” Tarr shouted over the engine and more gunfire.

  “Because our backup is here,” Erick said.

  With a screech, a Mustang slid to a stop in front of them. The back door flew open as Roarke Brennan poked his head out the window. “Get in, dickheads.”

  Erick whooped at the sight of his best friend and dove into the backseat, Tarr on his heels. They slammed the door shut, and Roarke was off in a spray of gravel.

  As he peeled out, Tarr shouted, “Are they following us?”

  Roarke shifted gears. “Man, I got this.”

  “How did you know we were there?” Erick asked as he hunched in the backseat, careful not to sit up.

  “Heard reports of gunfire, figured you were involved, and checked the GPS on your phone.”

  “Why would I be involved?”

  Roarke jerked his thumb over his shoulder before shifting again and taking off down an alley at about forty miles per hour. “Because you’ve been tailing him.”

  Erick shrugged as Tarr glared at him.

  Another five minutes of twists and turns. Erick was about to throw up in the backseat when, finally, Roarke drove directly toward a steel wall. Tarr braced. “Uh, buddy—”

  The steel flew up. Roarke roared down a concrete ramp and screeched to a stop in a basement. The steel door slammed shut behind them. He turned off the engine, and Erick kicked open the car door, falling to his hands and knees. He kissed the ground. “It’s good to see you. Roarke tried to kill me.”

  “I saved your ass.” Roarke’s boots stopped in front of Erick’s head, and he extended a hand down to help him up. Roarke was a tattooed, notorious hacker who was calm under pressure and who was also in love with Erick’s sister, Wren. Of course it’d taken them two decades to figure it out, but better late than never. Erick had been best friends with Roarke since middle school, and they had worked as freelance hackers since they graduated college.

  Erick watched as Tarr stumbled from the car, feeling his body like he was checking for bullet holes. Jock, another hacker friend of theirs, emerged from a darkened corner of the basement. “Well, look who it is. I thought you left town.” Jock shook Tarr’s hand.

  “I was on my way out, until I ran into this guy and got ambushed.”

  “Who were those guys anyway?” Roarke asked.

  Tarr crossed his arms over his broad chest and eyed Erick, who couldn’t help but notice the guy’s size. “Why don’t you ask your friend?”

  “Okay,” Roarke said slowly. “Erick, who were those guys and what the hell were you doing there?”

  “Well, uh, I was there because I was looking for him,” Erick admitted, pointing to Tarr.

  “Erick,” Jock growled, “I told you—”

  “And I knew those guys were related to the man he killed saving you.” Erick speared Jock with a look. “So I bugged their place in case they disclosed where Tarr went. Turns out he was there, and then, uh, we had to run from the guys trying to get revenge.” He held his hands out, palms up. “But it all ended okay. We’re alive.”

  “I had to jump off a roof, asshole,” Tarr said.

  “Mark it off on your bucket list and quit being a baby,” Erick fired back.

  “If it wasn’t for you showing up,” Tarr said, pointing a finger at Erick. “I would have been out of there in time. But I saw you drop onto the fire escape like Santa Claus and had to save your ass. Again!”

  “No.” Erick stepped to Tarr. “I saved your ass. Twice. First when I made you jump off the roof and then when Roarke showed up. Because Roarke is my friend, so that counts as me saving you. It’s only logic.”

  Tarr’s eyes blazed. “I wouldn’t have had to do any of that if you never showed up in the first place!” Tarr’s fists were clenched, chest heaving, face flushed. He stood so close to Erick that he could see every individual bronze eyelash.

  Erick felt a flicker of interest warm his chest. No, no, no. Absolutely no. This whole search for Tarr had nothing to do with attraction. It was about finding out Tarr was just as much scum as any hit man. He’d had a moment of weakness saving Erick’s life. He had to have. Hit men ruined lives; they didn’t save them.

  Jock pushed them apart, and Tarr took a step back easily. Erick stumbled a bit and tried to look cool.

  Tarr took off his cap and ran his hands through his hair. “Dammit,” he muttered under his breath.

  “Why you were there anyway?” Jock asked. “Why haven’t you left town yet?”

  “That’s where I’ve been squatting. I knew Haro and his men were there, so I went back to hear what they were saying before I left.”

  “Break it down for me who Haro is.” Roarke leaned against his car and popped open a can of Diet Coke. Where the hell did he produce that from?

  “Frankie Haro is the brother of Mark Haro. The Haros are longtime, well-known contract killers,” Tarr explained. His hat was shoved in the back pocket of his jeans, and his sweat-damp hair stood at odd angles. “I killed Mark in Jock’s house. Killing another hit man in something other than self-defense is frowned upon. So they want to kill me. They might succeed, to be honest, but I’m going to give them a run for it.”

  “Do you think Maximus is behind this at all?” Roarke asked. Maximus was an infamous hacker who was behind the death of Roarke’s brother, Flynn, as well as many other criminal activities. After Roarke and the crew busted up an identify-theft ring led by Maximus, he’d not been happy and vowed to seek revenge.

  Tarr shook his head. “I don’t think so. This is about Frankie wanting me dead for killing his brother.”

  “What can we do?” Jock asked.

  “Nothing,” Tarr said quickly. His gaze landed on Erick. “Absolutely fucking nothing. I will handle this.”

  “Nah,” Roarke said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “You killed Mark for Jock and Fiona.”

  Recently, the crew had banded together to take down the men who’d been terrorizing Fiona for ten years. Jock, who’d been tasked with protecting her, fell for her in the process.


  “You protected Erick,” Roarke continued, while Erick rolled his eyes. Roarke ignored him. “You did that for us, for this crew. We have your back now.”

  “I’d rather you didn’t.” Tarr’s jaw clenched.

  “Why?” Roarke asked.

  “Lone wolf.” Jock loved to speak in sentence fragments.

  “Who’s a lone wolf?” Erick said.

  Jock gestured toward Tarr, as if inviting him to speak.

  “I like to work alone,” Tarr said defensively. “What’s wrong with that? I only involved myself in Jock’s business because I owe him. For life.”

  Roarke began to go on a long speech about friendship and teamwork, but Erick’s phone beeped. In addition to bugging the apartment, he’d also placed a trace on Haro’s cell phone. He’d just made an outgoing call so Erick tuned in, turning up the volume so the rest of the guys could hear.

  “Two things,” Frankie said on the phone. Erick would have to look up who he called later. “One, find out everything you can about that Asian kid he was with.”

  “Kid?” Erick muttered.

  “Second, he fucked with my family. See if he’s got any family to fuck with.”

  The call ended. Erick glanced up to see Tarr frozen in place, eyes iced over. He stared straight ahead, jaw so tight it looked it could crack.

  Jock took a step toward Tarr, not saying a word, but Tarr held his hand up, squeezing his eyes shut. “I need a minute.” His voice was rough, full of pain.

  He shoved his hat back on his head, pulling the brim low over his eyes. Then he walked toward the direction of the bathrooms on the far side. He shoved the door open. As it shut behind him, he yelled, a holler full of anger that rattled Erick to the core. He didn’t look away from the door, only stared after him, wishing he knew what to do to make this better.

  “He’s got family?” Roarke said quietly to Jock. He crumpled his can and tossed it in a trash can along the wall.

  “Sister has kids. She’s the reason he owes me. I took a bullet for her. She’s everything to him. All he has.”

  “Fuck,” Erick whispered. Pain hit him swift, like a punch. Some days he was okay, other days he remembered that he’d lost the love of his life. Roarke’s brother, Flynn, and Erick had been together and had a whole future planned out. Until Flynn was murdered. By a contracted hit man. Well, two actually. They were dead now, but that didn’t bring Flynn back, and it didn’t lessen Erick’s disdain for the profession. Which was why Erick was so conflicted about feeling indebted to Tarr for saving his life.

  A door banged open, and Tarr strode from the bathroom. His face was wet. But his posture was strong and confident.

  “Man, I’m sorr—” Erick began.

  “Nothing to be sorry for,” Tarr cut him off. “I made this choice. I knew they’d come after me and anyone I care about.”

  “Where’s your sister?” Roarke asked.

  “Maine.”

  “Okay. You and Erick head up so he get her set up with security.” Roarke was in leadership mode. “He’s the fastest we have and most creative. They’re after him too so he needs to leave town anyway. We’ll work from here to shut down their communications and bungle their operation best as we can. Then, we come to you. Offensive. We’re not just buying time for them to take you out. We take them out.”

  “Look,” Tarr began.

  “Haro and his crew are skilled,” Jock cut in. “You know it. I know it. Right now they are spinning their wheels and getting hotter by the minute. Once they find your sister, it’s game over.”

  Tarr’s nostrils flared. “They’re going to be pissed they lost a shootout on the DC streets.”

  “You bet they are.”

  For just a second, unease crossed over Tarr’s face.

  Jock must have noticed it. “We’ll get through this. No way are we letting you go this alone when you saved my life and Fiona’s.”

  Tarr heaved a breath, and after glancing at Erick, he extended his hand to Jock. He shook his hand and then Roarke’s. “Okay. I agree. I don’t care much about myself, but it’s only a matter of time before they find her, even though I hid her well. Different name, new papers, all of that.”

  “They might find her, but they haven’t met Erick and have no idea what he’s capable of.”

  Erick’s chest swelled, and when Tarr glanced at him, he gave him a thumbs-up. Tarr didn’t look convinced. Well, Erick would show him. Getting caught in gunfire was not Erick’s forte, but fucking with people electronically was most definitely his strength. He was looking forward to this.

  Roarke dug in his pockets and tossed Erick a set of keys. “Since your car isn’t operational, these are for the Xterra. Extra set of plates in the back. Weapons inside and some clothes. Food. Full tank. Don’t risk going to your place.”

  Erick frowned. “Someone’s gotta feed my fish.” There was also some chicken thawing in his sink. That was going to get nice and ripe.

  Roarke leveled him with a look. “How about you don’t worry about your fucking fish? Wren’ll take care of it once the heat dies down.”

  “Tell her there’s chicken in the sink she can have. Or throw out.”

  Roarke just stared at him. “I’ll tell her,” he said slowly, like Erick was stupid.

  “Excuse me for taking care of myself and cooking,” Erick shot back.

  Roarke smiled then, clearly amused at the conversation. “All right, man. Look, we will take care of your place. You okay to handle all this?”

  “Handle it?” Erick grinned. “Road trip, plus fucking up some hit men’s lives? I’m going to relish taking out the scum.”

  Tarr narrowed his eyes but didn’t say anything. Erick jingled the keys, his blood heated from getting in a not-so-subtle insult to Tarr. “Ready to go? You’re in charge of making a list of snacks.”

  “Don’t kill him,” Jock said, and Erick turned to see he was talking to Tarr. About Erick.

  “Give me some credit. I’m not that annoying,” Erick said.

  Jock only raised his eyebrows.

  “Come on,” Erick said, feeling lighter now that they had a plan and Erick got to do what he did best. Tarr fell into step behind him as they headed to the street where the Xterra was waiting for them. “Road trip!” he hollered.

  “Kill me now,” Tarr muttered.

  But when Erick turned around, he caught the very slightest smile on Tarr’s lips. The fact that the sight of that smile sent a shiver of excitement down Erick’s spine was very annoying. He hadn’t been attracted to a single person since Flynn died. Why in the world was he now noticing the full curve of the ginger’s lips and how well he filled out the shoulders of his T-shirt?

  Tarr glanced up, and their eyes met. Erick looked away quickly. Maybe having a crew of hit men after them would be the least complicated part of this trip.

  Chapter Three

  Erick

  The only reason Erick agreed to let Tarr drive was because he needed to get some work done on the way.

  “How long is this going to take us?” Erick asked, settling his laptop on his lap as Tarr made his way outside the city. Thank God for tinted windows.

  “Over eleven hours if we drive straight through with no stops.”

  Erick paused as he opened his laptop lid. “No stops? Do you own a bladder?”

  Tarr’s lips twitched, but he didn’t laugh. Or really smile. Close though. “We’ll have to stop. Get food.”

  “Sleep?”

  “I figure we can tag-team it. I’ll drive until I’m falling asleep then we’ll switch. I’ll sleep while you drive. Vice versa.”

  “Damn. I was hoping for a hotel with room service,” Erick said under his breath.

  “While my sister’s life is on the line?” Like a switch, Tarr’s voice hardened. “I don’t fucking think so.”

  “Calm down, man. I was kidding. Christ.”

  “Well, I don’t find you funny, asshole.”

  Erick squinted. “Mmm, that’s kind of a lie. I made you at least sm
ile once or twice.” Was he flirting? What the fuck was he doing? He focused on his laptop and angrily tapped some keys. He wasn’t actually doing anything but wanted to look like he was. “Whatever. I was kidding, but I’m sorry. Won’t happen again.”

  Tarr didn’t respond.

  For the next hour, the only time Erick talked was to ask Tarr questions about his sister’s house. Erick was designing a security system and had to know the number of entrances, windows, and floors. Erick had a basic 3D rendering of the house finished quickly. “How many people in the house?”

  “Three. My sister. Her two kids.”

  Erick’s fingers paused. “Boyfriend? Husband?”

  “He’s away on business for the next three weeks.”

  “Might be easier with him gone. You like him?”

  Tarr shrugged. “I don’t really have an opinion of him. He hates me because of who I am and what I do. I never visit when he’s around.”

  “Are you close to…what’s her name?”

  A muscle in his jaw jumped. “Everly.”

  “Everly. Are you close to her?”

  Tarr didn’t answer right away. “Not really.”

  “No?”

  “I said not really. I don’t really want to have a therapy session about it.”

  Erick rolled his eyes. “Is there a spot on you that isn’t prickly? Fuck. Calm down.”

  Tarr slammed his hand on the steering wheel. “I don’t understand what you want from me, okay? I’m alone ninety-five percent of my life. I’m estranged from my parents. My sister only tolerates me because her oldest kid loves me and knew me back before I did the shit I do now. What is this insistence on getting to know me?”

  “I don’t want to get to know you,” Erick fired back, which was true. Sort of. Especially because now he was feeling some sympathy for the ginger hit man. Flynn always said he had a soft heart that he hid behind snark and jokes. I like that I’m the one who knows this about you, Flynn would whisper while gripping Erick’s jaw, right before planting a kiss on his lips.

  Erick closed his eyes, feeling the phantom touch of his late boyfriend. Tarr breathed heavily beside him, and the sound was loud over the soft music playing on the radio. He opened his eyes, staring sightlessly out of his window. He had taken time over the last several months to mourn Flynn, but even though the jabs happened less often now, they were no less painful. That was what people didn’t understand about trauma. The severity of the agony never lessened; the painful memories just came less frequently.