Page 55 of Play Dirty
He darted to the other wall and pulled up short as he peered through the door, unable to tamp down the mix of nerves and anger that rushed through him at what he saw.
“Come on in. What a pleasure to finally meet you in person,” Bennington said regally, as if Madigan was about to join him for high tea.
After another sweeping glance around, Madigan made his way into the room carefully, stepping past two bodies near the door, gaze roaming every nook and cranny and making what assessments he could in short order. There was a sitting area to the left. To the right, an executive desk and small office area. He had a partial view of a pair of legs, unmoving, and recognized Eastman’s brown Oxford wingtips.
Straight ahead was Azrael.
A physical ache spread through Madigan’s chest as he shifted his gaze in that direction.
Bennington stood just inside the entryway to the safe room, gun in his left hand, arm slung around Az’s chest, holding him close, effectively using Azrael as a shield and leaving Madigan without a clean shot. If he was off by a hair, Azrael would pay the price, and Bennington’s knowing smile said he was aware of that fact.
It was the other hand that worried Madigan more, though—the one with Bennington’s thumb resting at the ready on the plunger of the syringe stuck in the side of Azrael’s neck.
Madigan kept his gun steady on the man as he crept forward.
“I love a bit of poetic justice,” Bennington said in a confiding tone.
Azrael’s face was calm and steadfast. Unafraid. Madigan instantly hated it. It was the stoic reserve of a man prepared to meet his death. Madigan wasn’t ready for Az to meet his death, and certainly not at the hands of a human shitstain like Bennington.
“That’s close enough.” Bennington lifted a hand to halt him, and Madigan thought he might explode with fury as he grit his teeth and forced himself to stop.
Azrael’s gaze sought his, and, this time, it seemed his dark stare drilled deep inside Madigan and unfurled through him like a soothing touch, requesting patience, requesting calm.
Madigan sucked in a slow breath and forced his shoulders to relax. He’d be of no fucking use to Az or anyone else if he couldn’t keep a cool head.
“I was on the way to that meeting in Rio when I learned Ryan had double-crossed me. The man has always had loose lips. I would’ve killed him myself if Azrael hadn’t, but he was useful for a while.” Bennington smiled. “For instance, before I learned I was being played both ways and decided to turn the game on him, Ryan was the one to let me know that Azrael was working with another man who had accompanied him to a club in Rio. Rare, these days, isn’t it, a partnership like that? No one trusts easily anymore.” Bennington paused a beat before resuming. “It’s a bit more than that between the two of you, though, isn’t it?”
“What is it you want?” Sheer willpower kept Madigan’s voice even when what he really wanted to do was tear into the man’s throat. “I can assume Azrael is still alive and you’re still here because you want something you think I can give you if properly motivated. Cut to the chase.”
“Don’t bargain with him,” Azrael growled. “You already know what to do.”
Madigan ignored Az and kept his focus resolutely on Bennington, watching for any flinch of movement that might betray his intentions.
“I know about the deadpool,” Bennington snarled. “I want my name struck from that list. In return, I’ll let your lover here go and shut down the enterprises that your littlecollectiveseems to find so distasteful.”
“Bullshit.”
Bennington lifted a shoulder. “It would be a much more efficient expenditure of everyone’s time in the long run. You must realize by now I’ve already called in reinforcements. You’ve got what, a couple others inside? Presumably one or two on the outside?” As if on cue, gunfire erupted somewhere in the distance. “And you can rest assured that I’m neither the first nor last man to run such businesses. If not me, someone else will rise to the occasion.”
“They’ll be discovered and taken down, too.” Madigan was almost certain Cas would stay on top of that.
“We’ll see.” Az winced as Bennington dug the needle deeper into the side of his neck and seemed to change tack mid-stride. “If Azrael were smart, he would’ve put the good doctor over there out of his misery promptly instead of trying to help him. If he were brilliant, he wouldn’t have sought me out again after Rio. But the angel of death has a soft streak, doesn’t he?” Bennington purred.
“He’s better than me,” Madigan said. His gaze dipped low to the pulse hammering at the side of Azrael’s throat and the tract of skin exposed by the weight of the vest protecting his torso. Madigan wanted desperately to make it out of this room with him so he could taste that pulse again, touch it, feel it beneath his palm. “At almost everything.”
Bennington took another step deeper into the safe room. “Then all the sadder for both of us. This door closes and, by the time you get it open, I’ll be gone and rigor mortis will be setting in on your boyfriend. Last chance.”
Madigan forced his gaze to hold steady on Azrael’s midnight eyes, eyes he’d met with lust, with fury, with emotions he’d tried to deny for months.Love.
“Azrael is right. We don’t bargain,” he said.
Then he squeezed the trigger.
Az jolted as the bullet ripped through him, the force knocking both him and Bennington backward as it buried itself in Bennington’s Kevlar vest.
Madigan rushed forward as the two men went down, shoving Az out of the way and diving on top of Bennington.
They grappled, Bennington swinging the gun around to crash into the side of Madigan’s face.