Final Day

Book 3: Wired & Dangerous

by Megan Erickson

Genres: Women's Fiction; Contemporary Romance; Romantic Suspense

Synopsis

USA Today bestselling author Megan Erickson doubles the suspense when two intense and sexy heroes are drawn together in her thrilling Wired & Dangerous series. When his boyfriend is murdered, Erick Lee makes it his life's mission to hunt down the killer. The question is, how far is he willing to go to catch him? Erick has been asked to team up by a dangerously captivating hitman who has reasons of his own to want this man dead. But can he trust another killer? And do two wrongs ever make a right? Everett "Tarr" Hawk isn't just some lethal hitman. He has his own code of honor. With Erick and Tarr facing a common enemy, it's only by combining forces that they'll survive. But Tarr's code doesn't include a fierce attraction for someone he's sworn to defend with his life. Because in Tarr's world, every night presents a new danger . . . and listening to his own heart could get them both killed.

Release date: October 16, 2018

Publisher: Forever Yours

Print pages: 114

Sample

Chapter One

Erick

This wasn’t one of his better ideas. To be fair, Erick Lee never had brilliant ideas—he usually left the planning to his best friend, Roarke—but this one was colossally bad.

As he hung from the fourth floor fire escape in DC’s Washington Highlands neighborhood by the tips of his fingers, feet dangling, he knew now was not really the time to rethink life decisions. Now was the time to figure out how not to plummet to his death and splatter his brains all over the alley below. His arms were on fire, and if he didn’t figure out a plan soon, his sweaty fingers were going to give out.

He couldn’t pull himself up onto the fire escape because just inside the glass door of the apartment were several men who would think nothing of firing a bullet between his eyes.

Voices drifted through a cracked window. Erick didn’t need to listen, since he’d bugged the place right before the men returned. Which was why Erick had to leave in a damn hurry and why he was currently hanging from said fire escape by his fingernails. Fuck.

“He left town,” said a deep voice, which Erick recognized as Frankie Haro, brother of a Mark Haro, who was now deceased. Frankie was talking about Tarr, the hit man who had killed his brother. Frankie was out for revenge.

“He didn’t. He wants us to think he did but he’s sticking around for some reason. As soon as I find that reason, I find Tarr.”

Erick wanted to find Tarr too. That was the reason for the bug and for this death-defying feat on a fire escape. He didn’t know much about Tarr, or even his actual name; he just knew that Tarr saved his life. Was Erick happy about that? No, he was not. He didn’t want to be indebted to a fucking hit man.

Erick looked down at the fire escape platform below him. If he could swing his legs, maybe he could land on the platform rather than four floors down on asphalt. He inhaled sharply just as his left hand decided to give out. Erick muffled a shout and flailed, hanging by one fucking hand now, his legs useless. He glanced up at his white knuckles, and he knew, in about five-point-six seconds, his fingers were no longer going to be able to keep his 180-pound frame hanging.

It was now or never. He swayed in an effort to drop his body closer to the building and onto the platform below him. “One,” he whispered. “Two. Three.” He let go. His body dropped. And he didn’t quite make it. At least, not onto his feet. With his knees, he gripped the railing of the platform below so that he hung upside down like a gymnast on the uneven bars. His head smacked into the railing, and he took the pain streaking through his scalp as quietly as he could.

He hung upside for a moment, catching his breath, before he curled his abs with a moan, sat up on the edge of the railing, and hopped onto the platform. He touched the back of his head and grimaced at the smears of blood on his fingers. Wiping his hand on his pants, he turned to jog down the fire escape when he was stopped by the figure of a large man blocking his way.

He blinked. Blinked again. The ball cap, the curling red hair, the green eyes, and stubbled ginger jaw. Yep, here he was, the very man he wanted, and so did the men one floor above—Tarr.

“You’ve gotta be shitting me,” Tarr said on a hoarse whisper. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

Erick chewed the inside of his cheek. This was maybe ill-timed. “Would you be surprised if I said I was looking for you?”

Tarr rolled his eyes and grabbed Erick roughly by the shoulder. “Jesus Christ, we need to get out of here.”

Erick brushed him off, rubbing his arm. “Easy on the shoulder, man. I just dangled from a fire escape for a good five minutes.”

“You dangled from a—?” Tarr looked up for a second, like he was praying for patience. Erick got that look a lot from just about everyone who knew him. “You know what, never mind. This place is crawling with guys who want me dead, and you’d be a bonus. We gotta go.”

He motioned for Erick to follow him, but instead of walking down the steps, which seemed like the obvious exit, he made to go back inside the building. Erick held up his arms. “Whoa, uh, and we aren’t going down the stairs…why?”

Tarr looked at him like he was an idiot, and Erick was already tired of the look. “Because, genius.” He pointed toward the alley, and Erick peered over the railing to see no less than five men walking down the alley, guns visible. “Well sheee-it,” Erick whispered, dread licking at his spine just as Tarr grabbed him and shoved him inside the open door.

Tarr shut it behind them quietly and then whirled on Erick. “Are you trying to get killed? I don’t want to have to save your ass a second time.”

They were in an empty apartment that looked like it was being renovated. “That’s exactly what I wanted to talk to you about.”

Tarr’s eyes bulged. “Are you kidding me?” He pointed at the ceiling. “You know those guys up there want to kill me, right? You didn’t think to maybe wait until the heat was off my back to have a fucking coffee date?”

“I knew they’d lead me to you,” Erick said. “That’s why I’m here.”

Tarr threw up his hands. “Swear to God, you have a death wish.”

Erick clenched his teeth. “You have no idea what I wish.”

Tarr eyed him for a second and then pulled a gun from the back of his waistband. Gripping it with both hands, he pointed it at the floor. “Whatever. You want to talk? Fine. But first we get out of here without a bullet in our organs. Can you manage that?”

Erick pulled out his own gun from his shoulder holster. “I’m not an amateur, despite what you think.”

“Uh-huh,” Tarr muttered unconvincingly as he crept toward the front door of the apartment.

Erick followed him. “Wait. So if you know those guys want to kill you, why are you here?”

Tarr didn’t look at him. “How about we discuss that later?” He placed his ear to the door. “Plan is to get to the stairs at the end of the hallway and head down before they block all the exits. So we gotta move. Got it?”

Erick checked his gun. Fully loaded. “Sure, but they’re not trying to kill me. How about I leave and distract them?”

Tarr shook his head. “I know these guys, and that’s a bad idea.”

“Look, I know you think—”

Tarr stepped toward him, right in his space, and spoke through gritted teeth. “I do not have time for your ego right now, do you understand me? I know these men. I know what they’re capable of, and I don’t need another life on my conscience, do you hear me? All I’m asking is you follow my lead so we both get out of this damn building alive.”

Erick wanted to argue. He was good at arguing. Great, even. But this close, looking into Tarr’s serious-as-shit green eyes, he decided for once to just do what he was told. So he nodded and noted that Tarr’s shoulders dropped in relief.

Once again, Tarr put his ear to the door. “I don’t think anyone’s in the hall. We gotta move fast.”

Erick nodded, his palms sweaty as he gripped his gun. Despite his posturing, this was not his forte. Bugging an apartment and listening through headphones behind the safety of a computer? Stripping bank accounts of their funds? All that was easy for Erick because his skill was hacking. The actual fieldwork was fun sometimes, but not when his life was in imminent danger.

Tarr opened the door and, after a sharp inhale, peered into the hallway. He motioned for Erick to follow him, and with quiet footsteps, they walked down the hall at a fast clip. Tarr pressed on the door leading to the stairway, wincing as the metal push bar clicked loudly. Then they were through, and down two flights of concrete stairs when footsteps sounded below—as well as the click of a cocked handgun.

Tarr turned around and motioned for Erick to go back up. Roof, he mouthed. Now!

Erick turned and took the stairs two at a time, worked hard to cushion his footsteps so they were as silent as possible. Tarr was behind him, breathing hard as they passed the floor they were on, then the one above them. As they were rounding the stairs, the door to the apartment hallway opened, and Erick glanced down just long enough to see a hand holding a gun pass through first, followed by a face only a mother could love. And that face was looking right at Tarr.

The man raised his gun, and Erick shouted, “Duck!” Tarr covered his head, and a bullet pinged off the wall over him, sending a shower of broken concrete onto the stairs.

“Fuck!” Tarr raced past him. “Move, move, move!”

Male voices shouted, and Erick took off double-time. He was faster than Tarr, and soon they were rounding the top stairs at the same time and pushing through the roof door, tumbling out onto the roof together in a tangle of limbs. Tarr rose first and slammed the roof door shut.

Erick grabbed a piece of pipe lying among the gravel and handed it to Tarr, who shoved it into the door handle. “Won’t hold ’em long,” Tarr muttered. “We gotta get off this damn roof.”

Erick fucking hated running. He wasn’t bad at it, but he fucking hated it. However, there was something about men chasing him with guns that had him pumping his arms like a madman. He walked over to the edge and looked down. The building next door was close, reachable if they got. . .