Page 17 of Brazilian Surrender
The man walked up to the large window leading to the stairs, the same direction the other guy had taken. Maybe he’d take her with him downstairs then leave her and run. Or maybe he’d just…take her with him. Jaeger’s heart pounded. No way in hell he’d let that happen.
Camila stilled, and the guy lowered his gun to her neck. All Jaeger needed was a window of opportunity to leap.
“This building has security cameras. If you tell me what brought you here, I’ll help you out. No one gets hurt,” Jaeger said. “Not even you.”
“Not interested,” he said, but he lowered the gun to her side, though he kept holding her.
“Camila. To your right!” Jaeger shouted. The guy looked as well, and Jaeger launched onto him and slammed him against the wall. He punched the guy’s stomach, trying to get him to drop his gun. But the criminal used the gun to clock him; a sharp pain spread across his cheek. Jaeger kicked him.
“Jaeger!” Camila hollered, throwing a paperweight at the bastard. The guy ducked and landed another hit to Jaeger’s face. Jaeger’s cheek heated, the pain throbbing. He groaned and clenched the invader’s hand, focused on getting the gun.
What if something happened and he didn’t save her? What if—
Pain pierced his stomach. The criminal began to slide a knife into him. Jaeger tumbled back, and the guy pointed the gun at him. “One move and you die.”
Jaeger drew in a breath, and pain stabbed at him. He touched his wound, blood soaking his hand. He heard Camila step toward him, and the criminal again shouting for them to stay put. His vision blurred for a moment, and the guy jumped onto the emergency stairs.
“Jaeger. You okay? We need to take you to a hospital.”
“I’m fine,” he said. “Call Omar and tell him to come over. He knows a doctor that makes house calls. I just need a few stitches.”
She shook her head, skeptical. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah.” He groaned.
Camila searched for his first-aid stuff while calling Omar, and by the time Omar showed up with a doctor in tow—thirty minutes later—she had already helped him clean his abdomen and applied a clean cloth to stop the bleeding.
Dr. Watters once again showed he was worth every penny of his efficient and overcharged home visits. “You’re lucky this isn’t a deep wound, Jaeger,” Dr. Watters said, after he had sutured the wound and prescribed painkillers Jaeger probably wouldn’t take.
“Thank you,” Jaeger said.
While Watters fumbled with the bandage, Jaeger rolled his eyes. Camila had stayed with him in the room even though he had told her it wasn’t necessary. Jaeger hated her seeing him so vulnerable and preferred not to make eye contact.
“Next time you may not be so lucky,” Watters said when he finished. “Take care of yourself.” Omar, who had also been in the room, tore his gaze from the computer screen and walked the doctor out.
“Did you tell Lee about my place?”
Camila drew back. “He knows I’m not at my apartment. He’s the closest thing to a family I have in New York.” She paced around the living room. “What are you saying? Are you still considering him a suspect?”
Jaeger tried to stand from the sofa, but an ache moved through him. Hell. Maybe he’d need those painkillers after all. “Those men weren’t here because they wanted you, Camila. They searched for things in my files. They want to know who I suspect.”
“Lee doesn’t have a reason to want me out of the country.”
“Leave the possible motives to me.”
Omar returned and gave them a look. “What can I do, Boss?”
Jaeger grabbed his cell phone. “I’m going to call building security to ask for access. If we send Tony the tapes, he’ll ID the suspects and get us names. It’ll make it easier to go after them. They can lead us to whoever is behind all this.”
Omar nodded. “Sounds good.”
“God. This is crazy,” Camila said, rubbing her temples. “I never saw any of those guys before. Well, the one without a mask for sure.” Those two crooks had been nothing more than thugs hired by whoever wished to harm her. Wished her gone. But exactly who did she know who had a lot to lose from her simple existence?
…
“You really shouldn’t be here,” Jaeger said when he parked his car in the lot of an apartment building in Marine Park, Brooklyn.
Camila sucked in a breath. Forty minutes earlier, she’d been with Jaeger when Tony had IDed one of the suspects as Sean O’Brien, a petty criminal who had done quick stints in county jails but nothing serious. “Of course, I should be there, too. If he doesn’t admit to it, I can try to trick him with questions. I took criminal psychology classes before.”
