The Shaughnessey Accord by Alison Kent Read Free Book Online

didn't keep his nostrils from flaring, his neck hairs from bristling, his adrenaline from pumping like gasoline.
    He sensed their visitor long before the black-garbed man swung around and aimed his gun straight at Glory's head. The intruder stepped over his own downed associate and held out a gloved hand.
    "Give me the gun and she will not die."
    Tripp cursed violently under his breath, weighing his options on a different scale than he would've used in this situation had Glory not been involved.
    If he'd had time to do more than react, time to think, plot and plan, he would've stashed the gun behind a can of olives and used the butt end to up his own prisoner count when the time was right.
    Instead, he found himself surrendering the very piece that would've gone a long way to protecting Glory from this thug. Now he was stuck using nothing but the wits that never seemed to operate at full throttle unless he had a contingency plan.
    Right now all he had was a gut full of bile. That and a big fat regret that he didn't think better on his feet than he did.
    Having passed off the gun, he raised both hands, palms out. "Let's neither of us go off half-cocked here."
    The other man considered him for a long, strange moment, his black eyes broadcasting zero emotion while he stared for what seemed like forever before he tugged the ski mask from his head.
    He was young. Tripp would've guessed twenty-three, twenty-four. Except when he looked at the kid's eyes. His expression was so dark, so blank, so unfeeling it was like looking at a long-dead corpse.
    Without moving his gaze from Tripp's, the kid shouted sharp orders in Vietnamese. Two other similarly garbed goons entered the storeroom and dragged away the deadweight Tripp had left in the middle of the floor.
    Once the cast of extras was gone, the lead player planted his feet and shifted his gaze between Tripp and Glory, both hands hanging at his sides, one worrying the ski mask into a black fabric ball, the other flexed and ready and holding the gun.
    "An interesting situation we find ourselves in here, isn't it?" he finally asked. "Miss Brighton, would you introduce me to your friend?"
    "What do you want?" she asked before Tripp could stop her. "Tell me what you want. I'll give it to you, and you can get out of my shop."
    His black hair fell over his brow. "If what I have come for was so easily obtained, then I would have it in my possession by now."
    He was after whatever the courier from the diamond exchange had delivered to the Spectra agent. Tripp was sure of it. Was sure as well the information would detail future packets removed from Sierra Leone.
    The ski mask fell to the floor. "I'm waiting, Miss Brighton."
    "He's a friend. A customer." Her hands fluttered at her waist. "We're just. . . good friends."
    "You allow all your customers to visit your storeroom?" His mouth twisted cruelly. "Or only the ones with whom you are intimate?"
    Glory gasped. Tripp placed his arm in front of her, a protective barrier he knew did little good. "C'mon, man. There's no need to go there."
    The Asian kid raised a brow. "Actually, I think there is. Getting what I want often requires me to explore a defense's most vulnerable link. It is not always pleasant, but it can be quite effective."
    Tripp was pissed and rapidly getting more so. "Well, there are no links here to explore. So do as the lady suggested. Take what you've come for and let us all get back to our lives."
    "Were it only so simple," he said as he gestured Glory forward. She forced her way past the barricade of Tripp's arm. "But we seem to have hit what will no doubt be an endlessly long impasse thanks to one of Miss Brighton's customers."
    Glory looked from the kid back to Tripp, her eyes asking questions to which he had zero answers. "I don't understand."
    "You are very predictable, Miss Brighton. As is your customer base. Same sandwiches. Same lunch hours. That made planning this job quite easy. I'm assuming the courier using your