Red-Hot Vengeance Read Online Free PDF Page B

hours later, as promised, Vaughn was back. She held out her hand to López, but he didn’t give her what she wanted. She gave him a look that froze his blood and, for about a second, made him regret his choice.
    All of a sudden, Vaughn started up. Something had caught her attention in the corner of her eye. She looked around the place. There he was, the same policeman she’d already seen at the storage building. When he got up, she didn’t give him time to reach for his weapon. She held out her gun and took her aim.
    “No!” López shouted. He clung to her arm, making the shot go into the furniture instead of Williams’ head.
    “You really are a fucking nuisance, mister López,” Vaughn said. She hit him with the back of her gun and he fell behind the counter.
    People were screaming and fighting their way out of the pub. Outside, Vaughn’s minions were waiting for her signal. She shot López randomly to prevent him from running away. The bartender yelled in pain. He tried in vain to crawl away, but he was injured and there was nothing he could do to stop the catastrophe about to happen.
    Vaughn heard the cop shout at her. Instead of paying him any attention, she ran to the door and fired three times. That was the signal. A rocket was fired into the pub. López closed his eyes, but it was pointless. The noise of the explosion was deafening. People screamed for help. Blood splashed on the bottles. Soon the whole place was on fire.
    López tried to move. That only caused him more pain. He groaned. He coughed. He threw up a mixture of bile and blood. There was too much light, too much noise, too much heat. López felt like his body was melting away. He screamed but didn’t hear himself.
    Suddenly and out of nowhere, a hand seized him. He was pulled out of the fire with such brutality that he thought his body would be dismantled. He gasped under the pain. And all went black.

 
     
     
     
     
     
    Him
     
    Williams got home after yet another tiresome day. Once more, he had arrived just too late to retrieve the ruby from all those filthy thieves. He was getting sick of that damned ruby. More than once had he wished to forget about it, but he’d given his word to Duval himself that he would get it back. And although the Frenchman must have lost any hope by now, Williams was a man of his word.
    Besides, it was because of him that the ruby had disappeared in the first place. Someone—either Farrell or Carter—had broken into his flat and stolen the jewel right under his nose. A year later, Williams still wondered how on Earth it could have happened. But it had.
    And there he was now, unable to sleep despite the triple lock on his door. Yet, the insomnia didn’t come because he feared someone would break in. No, it was because Williams blamed himself for the loss of such a precious gem.
    Williams left his jacket by the door. He walked to the living room, putting his gun in a drawer on the way. He gazed at himself in the little mirror. He looked terrible. His ginger hair, getting lighter on the temples, was a mess. Those beautiful green eyes of his wore a gray veil betraying exhaustion. Williams ran his fingers on his face. He noticed that even his hands looked older tonight.
    “Hello,” a voice said in his back.
    Williams didn’t have to turn around to recognize his boyfriend. “Hey, love,” he said, looking at him in the mirror.
    His lover leaned against Williams’ back and wrapped his arms around his chest. He held him for a long time. The embrace made Williams forget his problems. He closed his eyes, savoring the warm fluttering in his stomach. The feeling of his boyfriend’s body against his back made his knees tremble.
    “Kyle?” he said.
    “Hm?” His voice vibrated in Williams’ ear, making his heart beat a little louder.
    “I am so in love with you,” Williams whispered.
    “Aw,” Kyle said. He gently forced Williams to turn and face him. “I love you too, honey.”
    Williams let himself be kissed