Guilty Pleasure

There was no mercy in that gaze. There was no compassion. There was only evil. Pure, black-hearted evil.



"This was so easy." He laughed at them as he moved inside, an arrogant swagger in his step that screamed conceited confidence.



Her weapon was tucked under the edge of the mattress, so far away. She lay against Khalid on his side of the ultra-king-size bed, the edge of the bed a good body-length from her.



"Aman." Khalid's tone was ice, his body tense against her.



He stared around the room curiously as he moved to stand at the foot of the bed. "I'm surprised you have no third with you tonight. I expected it."



He didn't know Shayne was there.



"I didn't need one tonight." Khalid held her close as he sat up fully and stared back at his brother.



"Ah, surely you are not giving up on such pleasures?" Aman propped his foot at the bottom of the bed. "I thought for certain that if you did not give them up for the memory of Lessa then you would give them up for no woman."



Marty kept her eyes on Aman, but her senses concentrated fully on Khalid. Aman was trying to piss him off, to hurt him. The memory of Lessa was one Khalid had never let himself forget, nor had he ever forgiven himself for her death.



There was also a sense of hope. Shayne was in the house. There was a chance, a slim one at best, but a chance that he could return to the bedroom and distract Aman.



"Does it matter why I gave it up?" Khalid asked, further drawing Aman into the belief that no one else was there. "Tell me, Aman, how did you get past my security guards?"



"They were easy." Aman smiled as he shrugged. "Very complacent in their abilities and their technologies. Unfortunately, I was here long before the full force actually arrived. Your poor cook slipped me in this afternoon, just after you and your lovely Agent Mathews left the house."



"And the call that the Saudi ambassador's assistant made from the party last night?" Khalid asked.



Aman smiled. "To Ayid, as I'm certain you know. I've been here for a while, brother." His gaze slid to Marty. "Long enough to nearly kill your whore the night you almost caught me in her apartment."



It wasn't an unknown assassin. Aman had been here all along.



Khalid breathed in deeply behind her. A controlling, patient breath as Marty clutched the sheet tighter to her breasts.



"Americans amaze me." Aman sighed, as though they were children he didn't understand. "They believe they are so full of wisdom and answers. But living is the understanding that such things cannot be controlled. Allah controls all things instead, and he reaches back, forsaking us when vengeance is owed us." He glared at Khalid then. "Vengeance is owed, Khalid. Allah provided a way for me to strike."



"I thought you said the cook provided that?" Khalid drawled.



Aman's glare intensified. "You mock me, Khalid?" He snarled. "You mock Allah further? The unholy alliances you partake of with other men's wives is a sin against all men. You should have been stoned as an infant. Destroyed before you could infect others with your perversions."



And Aman believed that, Marty saw. In his deep brown eyes she saw the conviction he felt.



"I've heard this all before, Aman." Khalid sighed. "It's becoming boring."



"Then hear this, traitor . . ."



The rifle went off.



Marty flinched then screamed as the bullet tore a hole in the pillow no more than a breath from her head.



"Fuck you, Aman!" Khalid yelled furiously, as he pulled Marty closer to him, despite her attempts to throw herself to the other side of the bed and the gun within easy reach if she could just make the distance.



"Perhaps I am only trying to liven things up," Aman sneered. "As you tried to liven them up the day you killed mine and Ayid's wives. The day you and Abram thought you could destroy our lives and our plans, forever."



Marty dug her nails into Khalid's wrists in an attempt to force him to release her.



"Abram did nothing," Khalid snapped.



The rifle fired again. A volley of bullets tore into the mattress beside Marty as Aman screamed out furiously. "You bastard liar! We know better! We have always known better! Tonight I came to kill your whore. Ayid will be with Abram now, ensuring he never breathes another night. But you, my brother, you will live to suffer as no man on earth has ever suffered."



He was insane.



Marty fought to hold herself in place, to still the need to fight Khalid's hold until it eased just enough to tear herself from his arms at the next opportunity.



She was halfway behind him now as he jerked her back and came forward. His muscles were tense and bulging as he held his rage in check, obviously waiting as well.



"You won't live to make me suffer," Khalid assured him. "Trust me, Aman. I'll hunt you both down like rabid dogs."



Aman chuckled at that. "I may die, but you will suffer. You will suffer the truth. The knowledge that your actions have caused you to lose the only woman you have ever truly loved. Ah, yes." He smiled. "I heard your vow of undying devotion to your little cunt. Words you have never given another woman. They have signed her death warrant rather than the mere raping I had intended for her."



She would rather die than have him so much as graze her with his demonic touch.



"Don't force me to destroy you, Aman," Khalid warned him, his voice powerful despite its softness. "I will. Harm her, and I'll make certain you die in agony."



"No more agony than you will know, my brother." The rifle lifted again and aimed toward her hip.



"Aman!" Khalid screamed out his name as the weapon fired.



Agony streaked along Marty's hip as she threw herself from Khalid to the edge of the bed. Her hand flew to the separation of the mattress and box spring, her fingers curling around the butt of the gun as it slipped free.



Simultaneously Khalid threw his weight over her body as more gunfire sounded.



She fought him. Trying to ignore the horrifying agony at her hip, Marty fought to turn, to aim the weapon she had managed to snatch at the bastard daring to endanger the man she loved.



"Move!" She was picked from the floor like a rag doll as Khalid threw himself toward the bathroom door.



Aman's curses were like the screams of a demon as Khalid threw the door closed, locked it, then forced Marty to the back of the room and into the sunken tub.



She stared at him in shock as she glimpsed the small, lethally powerful P90 personal protection weapon he carried in one hand.



"Put this on." He threw a white robe to her as he grabbed the white, comfortable pants he had worn in their suite and jerked them on.



"You won't escape so easily, Khalid." The sound of Aman's weapon tapping against the door was like listening to Satan peck his nails against it. It sent chills racing down her spine and horror filled her soul.



"Are you okay?" Khalid sliced a look at her as she tied the robe.



She nodded with the lie. She wasn't okay. She was bleeding like a damned stuck pig and her fucking hip was burning like the flames of hell were flickering over it.



"Do not play this game, Khalid."



Khalid threw himself into the tub, covering her as bullets tore through the bathroom door, the lock shattering. A foot against the panel, and Aman was staring in at them with a smile on his face before he threw himself to the side, barely escaping the gunfire Khalid spewed toward him.



"Ah, you are getting smarter," Aman called out. "Come out and play, Khalid. Come, my brother, and perhaps I will share your woman with you before I cut her depraved cunt from her body."



Chapter 20



Where the fuck was Shayne?



Khalid crouched over Marty's body, fighting to protect her, to give Shayne time to hear the weapons firing and to come running.



He knew she was lying to him. She had been hit. Her blood had sprayed his thigh as the bullet tore through her hip. Jumping for the opposite side of the bed had most likely saved her life, as Aman had been aiming for another shot even as she moved.



"You're fucking up, Aman," he called out to the other man. "You won't leave here alive."



"Do you think I came alone?" Aman was laughing. "I came with friends. One has bound Abdul to keep him safe, the others search your home now to ensure we missed no one. You are isolated, Khalid. No one will help you now."



Khalid breathed in roughly. Shayne was a damned good agent. He wasn't that easy to catch unaware. "Your father won't like having Abdul harmed, Aman," Khalid reminded him.



"Father is a sentimental old fool," Aman called back. "But Abdul will live, as per his orders, just as you will, brother. Though I doubt Father will shed many tears for Abram. You know he sent us for him."



Khalid stilled. That was impossible. Azir would have never sent his sons to kill his heir.



"Abram thought he could leave his home, his country," Aman called out. "He thought he could abdicate the future of his throne and his father would tolerate such a betrayal. Azir ordered Abram's death. Just as he will one day order yours."



He felt Marty moving behind him, her breath catching in obvious pain as she slid around him.



"Come, Khalid, let's not draw this out any further than we must," Aman chided him. "Let me kill your little whore, then I will be gone from your life again. At least, until you find another diseased bitch to take your depraved cock."



"Bastard," Marty snarled. "I want to cut his fucking dick off."



He stared back at her almost in shock. His ladylike little Marty had a mouth on her that could possibly almost match his own. He'd have to discuss this with her.



If they lived.



God, if they lived.



He narrowed his eyes on the door frame, watching the shadow that moved just outside it. The light spilled over Aman in a way that allowed Khalid to track him by tracking his shadow. His brother still hadn't learned to watch his ass. He had always depended on his father to watch his back. His father wasn't here now.



"We need to distract him," Marty whispered softly behind him. "We need to get him to edge closer to the frame. The P90 will pass through the wall, Khalid."



Khalid shook his head. "It's reinforced. I suspect Aman knows this, as my employees did. It will do no good to shoot anything other than the door. The bullets will be stopped by the layer of steel within the walls."



She sighed heavily behind him.



"My cell phone is in the bedroom," she said. "We're fucked if we have to stay here."



Their ammunition was limited, whereas he had glimpsed the backpack Aman carried. No doubt his brother was fully stocked.



"We'll just have to make every bullet count," Khalid told her quietly.



"I believe before I kill your whore, I want to fuck her." Aman was trying to push every button he thought Khalid possessed. "It was I who cut Lessa's betraying cunt from her body, Khalid. She was alive as I did so. She cried and begged, and in the end she screamed for her depraved husband and her bastard lover. But you weren't there, were you?" He laughed viciously. "Do you think my wife screamed for me when she died?"



"I think she died instantly," Khalid called back. "I doubt she even thought of you, Aman. I would guess she was happy to leave this life and her insane husband behind."



No doubt, Khalid thought, the woman had been as crazy as Aman was. She built many of the bombs that went into the vests of suicide bombers and helped Aman to plot many of the merciless attacks that had been made by the terrorist cell he led.



"Ah, you think you can speak such lies and hurt me," Aman called back, his tone furious. "Allah has sent me to punish you, Khalid. I am vengeance."



"I doubt Allah had anything to do with your insanity, Aman. Your father should have drowned you like a diseased dog when you were born."