King's Reign (The Xander King Series Book 4) Read online

  And it felt good.

  The three men took out their pistols and tossed them into the pool.

  “Xander, please,” Gabriela begged. “Drop the gun and run. I’m begging you! Don’t do this!”

  “But if I just let them go, how will they ever learn?”

  The three men stood back, anger on their faces, but their hands were in the air.

  That was when Xander shocked everyone around the bar, everyone around the pool, and especially Antonio and his thugs. He ejected the pistol’s magazine, tossed it in the pool, then racked the slide to eject the round in the chamber and tossed it in the pool as well.

  Xander gave a sweeping glance, looking each one of the Mexican men in the eye.

  “You ready for that lesson?”

  By the looks on their faces, you would have thought Xander was a piece of raw meat, and they were pit bulls about to come after it. But Xander knew it was absolutely the other way around. When they made their move, it was as if Xander had taken no time off at all. The first man—Thug One—all 250 pounds of him—lowered his head and dove for Xander’s legs in an attempt to get him to the ground. There aren’t a lot of rules to follow when taking on multiple attackers, but the number one rule, no matter what, is never let them get you on the ground. As the big man wrapped his arms around Xander’s waist, Xander sprawled, simultaneously kicking his legs out behind him and forcing his hips down on the man’s shoulders, landing on top of him. A second man—Thug Two—not quite as big, came at Xander, and Xander popped up to his feet just in time to catch the kick that was meant for his head. While he held Thug Two’s leg, Xander violently kicked the big man’s planted leg with the force of an axe, and just like a chopped trunk, Thug Two fell to the ground like a tree.

  “Get him!” Antonio shouted to the third bodyguard.

  Xander knew that before Thug Three made it to him, he had to do some damage to Thugs One and Two to level the playing field. As Thug One began to get back to his feet, Xander took the back of the man’s neck in his hands and pulled downward as he drove his knee up into his forehead. The big man went limp, unconscious. Thug Two was just getting to his feet, and after delivering the knee to Thug One, Xander spun, whipping his leg around his body, and the heel of his suede loafer connected with Thug Two’s jaw. The sound of his jaw breaking could be heard all the way to the beach.

  That was when Xander felt Thug Three’s arms wrap around him before he could turn around. The man lifted Xander up in the air and began to walk him over to the bar, the most solid thing he could slam Xander down onto. In the eight-foot walk, Xander managed to turn into the man, and when he did get slammed, at least it was on his back. Xander’s body being smashed into the bar top made a terrible crashing sound, and as the air was driven from his lungs, he managed to keep his head and searched for a weapon. Xander bit back the pain that encompassed every inch of his back. The bartender was standing five feet from him, his jaw agape, a bottle of rum in his hand. As Thug Three began to lift Xander back into the air, Xander took a deep breath and signaled the bartender by holding up his hand, a gesture to throw him the bottle. The bartender glanced at his own hand, then quickly tossed the bottle to him, and as soon as Xander caught it, he turned it in his hand and slashed it down on Thug Three’s head as hard as he possibly could. The force of the blow shattered the bottle, and Thug Three let go of Xander as he fell to the floor.

  Xander bounced off the bar top and landed on his feet. He glanced at the bartender, and through labored breath and a painful wince he managed to say, “Just put it on my tab.”

  Xander couldn’t believe how much fun he was having.

  By that time, Antonio was moving toward Xander, but his peacock chest wasn’t sticking out quite as much as it had been before. He grabbed a nearby chair, took two momentum-building steps, and tossed it at Xander’s head. Xander ducked, and the chair crashed against the bottles sitting on the middle shelf behind the bar. Xander was about to tell the bartender to put that on Antonio’s tab when Antonio ran at him, and Xander caught his little pencil neck in his right hand. These guys had no business being in a fight with a certified, US military–trained killer. Any Navy SEAL would have broken them, but for a legendary ex-soldier like Xander, it was as easy as breathing. They were just small-time thugs, probably just as terrible with their guns as they were with their hands. They looked mean enough that Xander figured most people didn’t mess with them. But as Xander squeezed Antonio’s neck like a vise, and after dispatching all three bodyguards with relative ease, he knew they were all thinking what he was thinking: looks can be deceiving. That thought was more evident on Gabriela’s face than anyone’s. She was not expecting to see what just happened.

  “Call off your dogs or I’ll put them down for good,” Xander told Antonio.

  The sarcasm was gone.

  Antonio looked over at his men as they all got back to their feet, then back to Xander. Xander could see in his eyes that he didn’t want to be embarrassed. The three men stepped closer, and Xander squeezed and shook the much smaller Antonio. “Call them off!”

  Antonio glanced at them once more, then swung his fist and hit Xander in the side of the head. Anger surged through Xander. As Antonio reared back to swing again, Xander lifted him off his feet, took two steps, then flung him through the air and into the pool. He immediately pulled his Marfione Halo IV OTF knife from his shorts pocket, pressed the action button, and the blade ejected from the handle.

  “Don’t just stand there,” Xander said to the three thugs. “Let’s get this over with.”

  The three bodyguards, unarmed and already humiliated, looked at each other, then to their boss. Antonio was out of the water, sopping wet, his arm hurrying Gabriela back toward the hotel. Xander took a step toward the three thugs, and they immediately followed Antonio’s cue and began to shuffle off toward the hotel behind him.

  As he walked away, Antonio shouted, “Stick around, white boy. You may have won this one, but stay here and see the hell I bring down on you.”

  Xander retracted his knife and put it away as he taunted back, “Says the little man as he runs away.”

  Gabriela shouted, “Don’t be a fool, Xander! Get out of Mexico!”

  “But Kyle will be here soon!” he shouted back, more just to amuse himself. He knew full well she had no idea what that meant. Xander was full of himself in that moment. Invincible. It had been far too long since his system had felt all the wonderful feelings that come with besting a man . . . or four. He realized if he did hang around in Mexico, there in fact would be consequences. And it was in that very moment that he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he wanted back in.

  All in.

  Because in that moment he was hoping against hope that those consequences would indeed come. His body and his mind welcomed the challenge.

  The question that had been running through his mind, nonstop for five long months, had finally been answered. If the itch came back, would he scratch it?

  He scratched it.

  And damn it felt good.

  3

  All In

  “Xander, are you drunk? You sound funny,” Sam told him.

  For five minutes, Sam listened to Xander rant and rave about getting in some bar brawl in Cabo San Lucas. Sam was Xander’s partner in crime. For the last several years, she and Xander had been fighting together against the evil of the world. Up until five months ago, she had also been relentlessly helping him hunt down the men responsible for murdering his parents. She was ex-MI6 from London and a certified badass. There was no one Xander trusted more with his life, and the lives of his loved ones, more than her.

  “What?” Xander sounded confused. “Drunk? No, I’m just . . . You were right. I’m ready to get back in the game.”

  Sam brushed away at her long dark hair, and as she stared into the mirror, she couldn’t help but smile. She knew this call would come. She knew Xander couldn’t wander aimlessly for long. But it had taken him far longer than she thought it would. Sin
ce Xander was so excited, she decided to have a little fun with him.

  “Back in the game?” She played dumb. “You mean the bourbon company? I thought you wanted Kyle to run that to help keep him out of trouble.”

  Xander was flabbergasted.

  “What? My bourbon company? Are you listening to anything I’m saying, Sam?”

  Sam’s smile grew wider as she put her hair in a ponytail.

  “Yes, of course I’m listening. You want back in the game. The horse racing then? I thought there was a new pony that had some potential.”

  Xander let out a sigh. “I hate you.”

  Sam laughed. “Well, I don’t know what you want from me, Xander. It’s past midnight here and I am trying to get to sleep. I suggest you do the same. Sounds like you’ve had enough fun and games for one night.”

  “Bullshit, Sam. You know exactly what I mean. Call Director Hartsfield in the morning and tell her I want to take her up on her offer.”

  Sam continued to play dumb. “Offer? What offer?

  “Stop it.”

  “You mean the offer for me and you to run our own top secret division within the CIA of the United States of America? The offer you turned down flat some five months ago?”

  “Yes, smart-ass, that offer. I want it, and I want to have free rein exactly as she stated we could. They give us the target or the mission and we see it to its end, as we see fit. Period.”

  “One little spat with some drunken frat boys and you’re ready to work with the US government again? What do they put in their margaritas down there?” Sam was enjoying ribbing Xander.

  “Are you finished? Listen, I’ve got some business to tend to here tonight. Call Director Hartsfield, then call the team. I want everyone in San Diego for dinner—no, hell with that—I want everyone on the yacht in Saint Thomas for dinner tomorrow evening. And I want our first target.”

  Sam finally let Xander off the hook. “I must admit, Xander, it’s good to hear you have some cheer back in your voice. I’ll make the calls, and I’ll make sure the yacht is stocked with all the goodies Marv and the CIA will send us.”

  “Can you feel that, Sam?” Xander played.

  “Now what are you going on about?”

  “I know you feel it. You’re excited. You’ve been bored as hell waiting for me to come around.”

  “It is about time, Xander. So, business to tend to tonight, you say? In Cabo? What’s her name?”

  “Oh, this is much better than a woman, Sam. I wish you could be here. Some local thugs are hopefully going to retaliate tonight. Can’t you just feel the electricity?” Xander was overjoyed.

  “I think they call it being snockered, but if you say it’s electricity, it’s electricity. Don’t pull a muscle.”

  “Love you, Sam.”

  Sam rolled her eyes, yet she couldn’t help but smile. She would never tell Xander this, but she missed her partner in crime. She could feel that same electricity he was feeling. She was also glad she hadn’t let her skills slip over the last five months. She had been training religiously in anticipation of that very phone call. She was as sharp as ever and more than ready to get back to what the two of them did best.

  “All right then, Xander. See you in Saint Thomas tomorrow.”

  Sam ended the call. As she laid her head on the pillow and stared up at the ceiling, she was grateful. As much as she knew Xander had needed the time away, she was happy it was over. The last five months had felt like five years. When your weekly routine is adrenaline-filled chaos, followed by the satisfaction of making your enemy pay, days filled with looking at random photos and maps and merely getting to offer an opinion of how to catch the bad guy were like entire days spent watching paint dry.

  Samantha Harrison had conditioned herself over the years to be a machine that runs on the thrills of the next dangerous adventure. Her tank had been on empty for months. But hearing Xander excited once again about getting back to it, her tank began to fill again. By the time she pulled the team together and all of them were going over the particulars of the next target on that yacht tomorrow, she had a feeling that tank would be full.

  4

  Payback’s a Bitch

  Thugs One through Three, along with Antonio, made their way up the concrete steps that were cut out of the side of the cliff at the Resort at Pedregal. They were headed toward Xander King’s suite. The four of them were moving much more slowly than they normally would, due to the battered state that Xander had left their bodies. However, the reason for the swift attempt at vengeance was because it had been their egos that had been the most bruised.

  Antonio wasn’t used to getting bested. Mostly because his men were usually there to form a protective barrier around him, ensuring that the man who paid their bills was never harmed. Antonio was determined to prove to the American who was the real man. Even though it would be four on one.

  Antonio had connections all throughout Cabo, so it was easy for him to get a key to Xander’s room. He wouldn’t have minded kicking in the door, but he did enjoy the thought of sneaking up on Xander as he slept. He couldn’t believe the stupidity of this brazen gringo. No one stepped to Antonio. And if they did, they sure as hell weren’t dumb enough to stick around for the consequences. When the maids had informed him that in fact Xander had not fled from the resort, Antonio’s blood was sent straight to boil. He didn’t know what it was about this man that made him want to be so personally involved. He usually didn’t get his own hands dirty. That is what he paid people for. Maybe it was the way he looked at Gabriela. Maybe it was the way there was absolutely no fear in the man when Antonio confronted him. Either way, he needed to be taught a lesson.

  Behind the four men moving slowly up the outdoor stairway, a yellow three-quarter moon floated out over the ocean. The breeze was warm, and in the distance seagulls were settling into their homes, cooing to their babies as they fed them a snack. The midnight hour had come, and as Antonio approached the gate to the front patio of Xander’s suite, he considered it to be a perfect night for revenge.

  “Now listen,” he whispered to his men. “We have a lot riding on this week, so we can’t afford to have police investigating us for murder. So don’t kill him. But once we have him subdued, we will bring him right to the brink of death. You understand?”

  His men nodded.

  Antonio fit a set of brass knuckles over the fingers of his right hand. Thug One readied his baseball bat, Thug Two a tire iron, and Thug Three would have to settle for his bare knuckles. Normally all these weak weapons would be guns instead, but the last thing Antonio needed right now was heat. And nothing brought heat like a dead body. Especially a dead American body. He knew there was still a strong chance that they would have to kill him. In the event that happened, he had a plan for that too. But he honestly wanted him to remember this night for the rest of his life. The night he crossed the baddest man in Mexico and paid dearly for it.

  The hotel suite was completely dark. Not even the light of the moon penetrated the blackout curtains that were closed over the windows. Most vacationers staying at the resort were either out partying by the water or fast asleep in their beds. Either way, there wasn’t a sound to be heard outside of the faint rush of the ocean greeting the sand at the bottom of the cliff.

  The electronic key lock clicked—someone was opening the door. Yellow light from the moon, along with a rush of warm tropical air, poured in through the opening. After only a couple of moments, the light disappeared as whoever had come in the hotel room closed the door behind them, and it shut harder than they had meant for it to.

  A lamp clicked on by the bed in the open room, and a dark-haired man sat straight up in bed, a frightened look on his face, as the four Mexican men stared back at him.

  “You’re not Xander King,” Antonio said to the dark-haired man.

  The man smiled at him as he scooted out of the bed and rose to his feet. Then he pointed behind the four of them.

  “No, but he is.”

  “Wh
at took you all so long?” Xander said from behind them while snatching the baseball bat from the grip of the man closest to him.

  The other three men turned just in time to see Xander smash Thug One in the stomach with his own bat. The man dropped to his knees, and Xander followed it up with a knee to his forehead.

  One thug down.

  “Get him!” Antonio shouted to his men, ordering them after Xander. Then he turned his attention back to the man in the bed. “You picked the wrong room to hang out in.” He clenched his fist, squeezing the brass knuckles in his grasp.

  “I’m pretty sure you are the one who picked the wrong room. I’m Kyle, by the way.”

  Kyle Hamilton held out his hand, as if Antonio would actually shake it. Instead, clearly not a fan of his sarcasm, he took a swing at Kyle’s outstretched hand. Kyle managed to pull his arm back just in time to avoid being struck.

  “I was just trying to be polite.”

  Antonio swung at Kyle again, this time at his head. Kyle jerked his head back out of the way, then stepped into a strong jab to Antonio’s chin. It was immediately evident that what Xander said about them not being well trained was true.

  On the other side of the room, Xander squared up into a fighting stance, opposite Thug Two and Thug Three. “You sure you all want to do this again?”

  Thug Two answered with action. He stepped forward, swinging the tire iron down toward Xander’s head. Xander managed to get both ends of the bat in his hands, thrusted it vertically, and it collided with the tire iron. Chips of the wooden bat flew into the air––better the bat than Xander’s head. Thug Two reloaded before Xander could adjust and brought the tire iron back toward the bat. This time it went straight through the wood and broke the bat in half. Xander took a step back, glanced at the separated pieces he held in his hands, and just as Thug Two brought the tire iron back for another swing, Xander stepped forward and front-kicked him in the gut, pushing him back a couple of feet. He then planted the left leg he’d kicked with, spun his body around it like a top, and the heel of his right foot whipped with him, striking Thug Three square on the right side of his jaw.