Page 37

“Yeah. But you gotta know I missed on purpose. I’m a good shot, Z. You know that for a fact.”
Yes, he did know that. And Eve had been right when she’d suggested that the shooter had been trying to miss.
“Why, Cotton?”
“Client wanted it done ASAP. I knew if I didn’t take the contract, someone else would. Thought I’d give you a few warning shots, you’d get out of town, and that would be that. Since they didn’t have your real name, I thought you’d be safe.” He swallowed hard and said hoarsely, “I didn’t mean for the guy with you to get hurt.”
Xavier closed his eyes again, seeing Hawke’s lifeless body, blood pouring from his neck. That was an image he’d never get out of his head. To know this man—his friend—had caused it was both infuriating and gut-wrenching.
“Z?”
Pulling in the anger, Xavier said, “I know you didn’t, Cotton.” Out of all the thoughts whirling in his brain, that was one thing he knew for a fact. Cotton didn’t have a killer instinct. The man wasn’t evil—he was just lost.
“Who’s the client? Who put out the hit?”
“Don’t know. Just some guy out of Chicago. Funds were transferred from a bank in Barbados.”
Thinking Serena could trace the money, he said, “Can you text me the bank info and tracking number?”
“Sure thing, Z. Anything I can do to help.”
“How much for the job?”
“Twenty thousand. Ten up front. Ten when the job was done.”
As hits went, that wasn’t a lot. It made him wonder how motivated these people were to get rid of him.
“And I was the only target?”
“Yes. The photo showed you at some fancy restaurant. Looked like you were with someone, but your face was the only one shown.”
That was one bit of good news—maybe. At least there hadn’t been a hit out on Jazz, too. At least as far as he knew. But her abduction and this contract on his life had to be related. Had some creep seen them together at the restaurant, decided he wanted Jazz for himself, and thought getting rid of Xavier would cut out his competition? That was an insane premise, but crazy things happened every damn day.
Rubbing his forehead where a headache was setting up camp, Xavier tried to see past the confusion and figure out what the hell was going on. Who was this person, and what did he want with Jazz? There was still so much they didn’t know.
Chicago, though. That was something they could work with. Without ending his call with Cotton, Xavier texted Rose. Get me on a flight to Chicago. ASAP.
“Z, you there?”
“Yeah, I’m here. Just trying to get my head wrapped around this.”
“Is he… Is that guy… He going to be okay?”
“Yes. He lost a lot of blood, but he’ll be fine.”
“I didn’t mean… Shit. I’m just real sorry, Z.”
“I know you are, Cotton. So what now? Where do you go from here?”
“I gotta get out of the country. I took half the money, so I figure they’re going to be looking for me to get it back.”
Reminding himself that OZ hadn’t been created only to bring the wicked to justice but to give second chances to those who’d lost their way, Xavier said, “Listen, I can help. A woman named Rose is going to call you and give you what you need. She’ll get you a new name, new everything. You can start all over again.”
“You don’t have to do that, Z. I can take care of myself. I just wanted you to know.”
“Listen, Cotton. They’ll probably be looking for you. Ten thousand is nothing to sneeze at. This is a chance to start over. Find yourself. Take the chance, man. Get a clean start.”
“You’re a good friend, Z. The best.”