Chapter Two

Entering the shabby apartment building, the smell assaulted Kellum’s nose.

Shit, he put his sleeve to his face and stepped over the bum in the doorway. Not that every homeless person was a bum, but the guy sitting slumped against the wall seemed to fall into that category.

Don’t be silly. You don’t know if he’s even homeless.

He silently shushed the voice in his head and kept walking with a double check over his shoulder to make sure he hadn’t been followed. Kellum cautiously walked deeper inside the smelly, dingy depths. Pulling his coat tighter, he kept his head down and made his way up the stairs.

Four flights up.

Never taking the elevator after the first time it had clunked and groaned to the top.

Wouldn’t want to get stuck in that sucker.

He passed the third-level door when he heard the second-level access door open and he sprinted up the last set of stairs. There were twenty for each set. Reaching the upper door, he yanked it open and raced down the hallway with his heart pounding.

He always had his key ready and clutched the metal prongs.

Don’t drop your keys, don’t drop your keys…

With shaking hands, he shoved it into the lock and turned it. Lunging inside the door, he slammed it and turned all four deadbolts.

Click.

Click.

Click.

Cli—

Damned fourth lock always stuck. He gripped it hard, lifted up on the door knob, and it slipped into place with a scratching grind.

Struggling to catch his breath, he leaned his forehead against the door, then turned and sank his ass to the floor.

Fuck.

It had been nobody.

Probably nobody.

It must have been the neighbor. Jenny Jones was nice, she’d made him cookies and while he hadn’t stuck around to talk much, it had been a kind gesture. She stayed there with her boyfriend and ten-year-old son.

His ass grew cold from the floor and he sighed.

“Get a grip,” he muttered, got to his feet, and slipped off his dark wool coat. He hung it on the rickety coat rack he’d found at the Salvation Army a few months ago. One leg wobbled from the added weight, but he liked it. It matched the rest of the random furniture throughout the small place. Like the table he’d found without a leg. All it took was placing boxes beneath that side and it stayed upright.

He liked imperfection.

Stopping at the phone, he checked the answering machine. He was probably the only one on the planet, surely in Ventura County, who owned a house phone.

He had his reasons.

No messages, of course. The only person who would call Kellum had been given instructions not to.

Toeing off his shoes, he made his way into the kitchen just to the left of the short entryway and pulled down a can of refried beans along with the remaining bag of stale tortilla chips. He cut off a tiny piece of mold growing on the cheese and placed that partially eaten block on the counter.

Tortillas with cheese.

Again.

Third night in a row.

Oh well, he didn’t have much of an appetite these days.

What would his big badass teammates think of his current dietary options?

What would Creed think?

He scowled and took out the can opener and twisted the knob around the can of beans until it was open.

That man.

That man was a…

He harrumphed beneath his breath.

Was sexy as hell. That was what he was.

Creed and Kellum sitting in a tree.

“Oh brother,” he mumbled and dumped the chips onto one of the mismatched plates. After the nachos were fashioned and placed in the microwave, he made his way into the living room.

The carpet was worn threadbare in numerous places, but it was better than living on the streets. Just the thought sent a cold shot of fear through his chest. That was never going to happen. He made enough money from Pegasus to live in a nice place. Only…he couldn’t risk it yet.

He walked through the living room to a partially closed door of the one bedroom and pushed it open. Bunkbeds stood neatly on one side with a twin bed on the other. It was perfect except it was empty.

He aimed to remedy that tonight. Tonight, his life would be changed forever.

Returning to the living room, he studied the blackout curtains and the dirty brown couch he’d found next to a dumpster several weeks ago. It hadn’t smelled all that bad. He wandered back into the kitchen, took the food from the microwave, and returned to the living room. Sitting on the sunken-in, dark brown couch, he took several bites. Finding that he didn’t have much of an appetite, he chalked it up to what he had to do later.

He placed the half-eaten food back into the refrigerator and grabbed the small bag of trash to dump on his way out.

Walking to the rickety table near the couch, he opened the small drawer and pulled out a pistol. On a Pegasus bust, he lifted the gun and filed the serial numbers from it. He’d fudged the records in the Pegasus computer system so it couldn’t be traced. Of course, they’d find it eventually and Ace would have every right to press charges.

If he had to use the weapon, he would. But he’d also destroy it afterward and leave it in pieces in the ocean. Nothing could lead back to him, his brothers, or the unit. Pegasus could never know what he’d done. Kellum would never risk harm coming to any of them. They might think they were badasses, but they hadn’t come across someone as sinister as he had, and he hoped to hell they never did.

He could imagine Creed giving him an “Are you crazy?” look at not asking for help, but he shook it off. Okay, so Creed was a tough badass, but Creed couldn’t escape a bullet nor the ramifications of having his whole life and everything he loved most wiped out.

Kellum only had a few hours before he needed to leave and go back to Percy’s apartment, but he took the precious time to gather his resolve before he tucked the handgun into his coat where it hung heavy in the inside pocket.

Leaving the entrance to the apartment building, he pulled his coat tight and walked the six blocks to the bus station. He’d sold his car to keep hidden and received a decent amount for it. He’d also obtained a new ID.

It was easy to disappear into the crowded bus and when it stopped near his destination, he melted into the shadows.

Watching.

Waiting.

For the right time to make his move.

Nothing was going to stop him.

Nothing and no one would get in his way.

He would kill to do what he needed to do.