Veils: A Killers Novel, Book 4 Read online

  Veils

  A Killers Novel, Book 4

  Brynne Asher

  Contents

  Veils

  Other Books by Brynne Asher

  Prologue

  1. Virginia is for Lovers

  2. The First of Few

  3. Leave Me Be

  4. Don’t Tell Grady

  5. Fearless

  6. Independence and Freedom

  7. Fake Memories

  8. Game-Fucking-On

  9. Chase Hard

  10. Abstraction

  11. International Language

  12. Killers and Healers

  13. A Noose

  14. Bugger Off

  15. Storm

  16. Recollections

  17. Spiral

  18. Cocoon

  19. Inevitable

  20. Trouble in Bromance-Landia

  21. The Honeymoon is Over

  22. Lose His Shit

  23. Xs, Os, and Hearts

  24. Black and White

  25. Water and Oxygen

  26. My World Shifted

  27. Beloved

  28. Death

  29. All Mine

  30. Ferocity

  31. Fireworks

  32. Aftershock

  Epilogue

  Read more by Brynne Asher

  Acknowledgments

  Read a Sample from Broken Halo

  Text Copyright

  © 2019 Brynne Asher

  All Rights Reserved

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission from the author. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of author’s rights. Only purchase authorized editions.

  Any resemblance to actual persons, things, locations, or events is accidental.

  This book is a work of fiction.

  Veils

  A Killers Novel, Book 4

  Brynne Asher

  Published by Brynne Asher

  [email protected]

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  Brynne Asher’s Beauties

  Edited by edit LLC

  Cover Design by Dark Waters Covers

  Other Books by Brynne Asher

  The Carpino Series

  Overflow – The Carpino Series, Book 1

  Beautiful Life – The Carpino Series, Book 2

  Athica Lane – The Carpino Series, Book 3

  Until Avery – A Carpino Series Crossover Novella

  Killers Series

  Vines – A Killers Novel, Book 1

  Paths – A Killers Novel, Book 2

  Gifts – A Killers Novel, Book 3

  Veils – A Killers Novel, Book 4

  Until the Tequila – A Killers Crossover Novella

  The Montgomery Series

  Bad Situation – The Montgomery Series, Book 1

  Broken Halo – The Montgomery Series, Book 2

  Standalones

  Blackburn

  Dedication

  To those who want nothing but a memory.

  Prologue

  Jarvis

  Fuck.

  Patience is a tool I’ve had to learn. It doesn’t come naturally to me like it does to Crew. Self-control and I play as nicely as North Korea does with the rest of the world, but I’m working on it. It’s as necessary as it is annoying. I don’t need Asa on my ass because the CIA is all over his just because I can’t manage to sit on my hands an extra two minutes.

  Two minutes can be a lifetime in my world.

  But now? This moment? If they don’t make a move soon, I’m going in. I can’t take it. This isn’t a normal kill. This is different.

  She’s in there.

  And I’m out here.

  At least six of them.

  One of me.

  And her.

  Fuck.

  Two more walk out. That makes four outside and two in—with her.

  When I start to take them out, it’s got to be fast. The stakes have never been higher—vital like oxygen, which my lungs are now screaming for.

  One of them turns for the door. This is it.

  Snip.

  Right through the head. He falls.

  The other three jerk.

  Snip. Snip.

  The fourth yells and shifts for cover. Exactly what I want—a warning to rouse the others.

  Snip.

  I move out of the brush, and through my night vision goggles, the fifth is easy to pick off when he peeks out the door because he’s more curious than smart.

  Snip.

  I move to the door and make myself wait a beat. I know he’ll come. They always do.

  Boots echo on the floor.

  Three, two…

  I turn and kick the old, aged wood.

  Humph.

  It splinters in his face and I don’t hesitate. He hardly has a chance to open his eyes, let alone get his bearings before he’s wearing my bullet in his skull.

  Moving through the building, I kick doors. Nothing. Climbing the slim stairwell that complains with my every stomp, I take them two at a time.

  My insides … I don’t even recognize myself. This … this storm that’s brewing.

  I might explode. Or fall a-fucking-part.

  I know she’s here. Right now, I’m thanking the technological geniuses that helped me find her.

  I kick open another door. Fuck.

  She’s lying in the corner, curled into herself, as motionless as a dead, fallen leaf on a still day.

  I don’t ever freeze and I never hesitate. I’m too good. But the sight of her…

  This moment will be etched in my brain for the rest of my days, and I know for a fact, I’ll be forever changed because of it.

  “Gracie.”

  Chapter 1

  Virginia is for Lovers

  A few weeks earlier

  Jarvis

  The party is still going strong even though the wedding itself was over four hours ago. Empty wine glasses litter white-covered tables and music cuts through the dark night. The whole scene screams bad chick flick starring lonely, scorned bridesmaids.

  I move beneath the stars through the sea of tables covered in flowers, mutilated cake, and all the other shit until I find him. He’s standing off to the side, shadowed on the edge of the floodlights filling the dance floor. He’s got an arm around his wife and they’re deep in conversation.

  His eyes cut to me before I get to him and I shouldn’t be surprised. He’s that good—better than good. It doesn’t matter how long he’s been out of the game, he’s still got that sixth sense. I’d say he was the best and he might have been at one time. Hell, he taught me everything I know.

  But he’s not the best anymore.

  I am.

  Still, he doesn’t take his eyes off me when he turns his wife, Addy, in his arm and tucks her to his side despite her swelling belly. He doesn’t greet me or ask if it’s done. I’m here, which means he knows it is.

  I lift my chin. “Hey.”

  “You made it,” Crew answers and doesn’t ask about my trip. “Since Asa doesn’t hate you like he used to, I’m sure he’ll be happy you’re here.”

  “Good to see you home, Jarvis. And I’m glad you could make it. The wedding itself was small but, as you can see, the reception got out of hand,” Addy says, her voice is low and soft as she leans into her husband. She knows everything—every single thing we do—and what it means to return home, even though I don’t have one of my own. For the last few years, home is here, at Crew’s camp tha
t has become headquarters for the men working under him. “Will you be here for a while or do you have to turn around to leave right away?”

  “He’ll be here for a few days.”

  I turn at the sound of his voice and extend my hand to the man who recruited me and was my only advocate in the beginning. His wife is with him, and just like Addy, she’s as much a part of this as the rest of us. “Grady. Hey, Maya.”

  Maya smiles. “I’m glad you’re home. Come by for dinner before you leave again. The kids miss you.”

  Grady shakes my hand and adds a slap on the shoulder. “Just came over to say goodbye. The sitter called and we’ve gotta get home. Cayden has a fever.”

  “I’m sorry,” Addy says as she rubs her belly. I swear she’s twice as big as she was before I left six weeks ago.

  But Crew doesn’t mince words. “Shit. He was playing with Vivi at the wedding.”

  “Don’t get your panties in a twist. It’s only a fever,” Grady drawls.

  Crew glares back. “She can’t get sick. We only have a couple weeks until the due date.”

  “I’m surprised you haven’t quarantined your family yet. If she’s sick now, it’ll only build her immune system. I’ll bring Cayden over tomorrow to spit on her.”

  If I didn’t know these two were the badasses they are, I’d think someone had thrown me into a Mister Mom Convention.

  I interrupt the Dr. Oz episode playing out in front of me. “Where’s Asa? I guess I can’t call him Grumps anymore.”

  Grady turns and points toward the edge of the dancefloor where Asa Hollingsworth is holding Saylor and looking at his new wife like she just cured all the world’s ailments.

  These men. They’re dropping one by one. But what the hell else are they going to do now that they’ve put themselves out to pasture? I guess settling down is easy when you have nothing else to do.

  “They’re so happy. I can’t stop looking at them.” I turn back and Maya’s eyes are on the newly-married couple and Keelie’s daughter. “I mean, look at Saylor. She’s as happy as her mom and that’s saying a lot because I’ve never seen a bride happier than Keelie.”

  “Really?” Grady frowns at his wife. “That hurts my feelings.”

  Maya bites back a grin and leans into her husband. “Besides me, of course. That goes without saying.”

  “We’re out of here, too. Addison needs to get off her feet and I need to check on Vivi since she was around Cayden. Evan’s got this covered.” Crew puts a hand to Addy’s back and turns her toward their house when he looks to me. “I need some time in the morning. Got a call from Carson and things are brewing in Afghanistan. That trip has been moved up.”

  I’m not surprised but I am pleased. I was set to be here for the next few weeks and I’ve come to hate downtime. “I’ll be there.”

  The women reach for hugs but I don’t say goodbye. I turn toward the bar set up outside the main building at Addy’s winery to grab a drink, congratulate Asa and Keelie, and then get the hell out of here.

  The crowd is still thick—men in suits, women dressed to the nines, and waitstaff that might as well be a flock of penguins. That’s why when my eyes land on an ass encased in denim so tight that every swell and curve are on display, I do a double take. That ass is topped with a plain white T-shirt that isn’t as tight as the jeans, but is snug in a way that makes me curious about what’s in the front. Her long dark hair is piled on top of her head, messy and coming apart in a way it was put there hours ago and the owner doesn’t give a shit—which is odd at a formal event like this one.

  It seems she and I are the only ones not dressed for the occasion.

  I take the only open spot at the bar, which happens to be next to her. She stands at least ten inches shorter than me. If she’s a tick over five-three then I’m the Jolly Green Giant.

  The bartender sets a glass of red wine in front of her and looks to me. “What can I get you?”

  “Whiskey neat, the most expensive the groom sprung for.”

  The bartender smirks and I hear from my side, “You’re at a vineyard, you know.”

  I look down at the woman who seems to give fewer shits about her appearance than I do my own and find eyes so blue they cut through the dimly-lit night. But my gaze drops immediately to her tits that are an advertisement for the commonwealth, informing me that Virginia is for Lovers. I look back up to her bright eyes. “Seeing as the sign at the entrance states it’s a winery and we’re surrounded by grapes, I figured it was a vineyard.”

  “Then you should try the wine. It’s great.” She takes a sip. “Friend of the groom or bride?”

  I turn to her and lean on the bar. “Groom. You?”

  “Bride. But only through a friend-of-a-friend. I’m sort of crashing because I’ve had a long day and could use a drink. I just rolled into town, which is my only excuse for the way I’m dressed. And I don’t have anything dressy with me anyway, so there’s that.”

  “Your whiskey, sir.” I turn to the bartender and take the lowball he placed on a napkin. “Boss Hog by Whistle Pig. Top shelf, compliments of the groom.”

  “Fitting,” I mutter, taking the glass and turn back to the fun-sized woman who’s proving to be chatty. “Are you always a billboard for the state motto?”

  She glances down at her shirt and when she looks back up, she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth and she shrugs. “Only when I spill coffee all over myself and have to buy a new shirt at the airport because the airline lost my luggage.”

  I take a sip of my whiskey and settle in as it warms my insides. “The perils of flying commercial.”

  “I’m not sure how else I’d fly.” She looks at me like I’m crazy. “But now I’m screwed because I have to catch an international flight first thing in the morning and need my suitcase.”

  “Maybe you should be shopping instead of drinking wine.”

  She stands straighter and points to me with the same hand that’s fisting her glass. “Hey, I just got done dealing with the airline for more than two hours. They promised my bag would be delivered before three in the morning. There’s nothing more for me to do. I’ve earned this and I’m damn well drinking it.”

  I lift my glass and take another sip.

  “What’s your excuse?” she asks.

  I frown. “Excuse for what?”

  Her eyes run their course over my body and land on my boots before jumping back to my eyes. “For showing up at Keelie’s wedding dressed like Doctor Doom.”

  I hitch a brow, not taking the energy to form the WTF response to her comment.

  She waves her hand up and down, assessing me one more time. “Black boots that look like you just traipsed through a jungle, enough pockets to carry everything in my purse, and a plain black tee. Quite honestly, if we weren’t at a wedding reception, I’d think I’d fallen into an action movie.”

  If she only knew, she’d take her wine and run. She probably should. “I guess you can say I just got off work and came straight to the party for a drink, not unlike you.”

  Instead of running, she shifts her weight and cuts the space between us in half, lowering her voice. Her blue eyes dance and I can’t tell if she’s giving me shit or if she’s really curious. “What do you need all those pockets for?”

  I take another sip of the liquor I know for a fact retails for more than five hundred dollars a bottle. I would know, my fucking father brags about his collection and Whistle Pig isn’t even his most expensive. Asa didn’t pinch pennies. “My work requires a lot of necessities. Parts, pieces.” I shrug. “Stuff.”

  “So, you’re not just wearing those pants to haul around your wife’s lipstick and hair ties?”

  I raise the glass I’m holding in my naked left hand and tell her the truth. “No wife. No lipstick.”

  She takes another sip of her wine, doing nothing to hide her curiosity. “Girlfriend who doesn’t like to carry her own purse?”

  “You won’t even find chapstick. Feel free to frisk me,” I pause and glanc
e down at her shirt again, “Lover.”

  She tips her head, and right now, all I can think about is her feeling her way through my pockets. “Maybe I will. Should I call you Rambo? G.I. Joe? Or are you just some guy from the nineties who won’t let go of his cargos?”

  I take a deep breath and can’t believe I’m about to say what I’m going to say because no one addresses me by my first name. No one since I left home over a decade ago to head to the Academy, but it doesn’t matter because she’s leaving tomorrow, and from the sounds of it, I’ll be gone in a few days. I’ll never see this woman again.

  And only because of that, do I do what I never do, and give her a little bit of me that I give no one. “Noah.”

  “Noah,” she repeats and I listen to my name slip through her full, pink lips. “I like it.”

  “Good because I’m stuck with it.”

  This stranger’s eyes show me that she’s amused by my flat reply.

  “Your turn,” I press. “What name are you stuck with?”

  “Uh-uh.” She shakes her head. “I want to know more about you. If you don’t have a woman to carry around lipstick for, what do you put in all those pockets?”