He Came Back to Collect

Chapter 007

The five guards had managed only to make Cornell look even more impressive.

Maria knew these men. They were military veterans, all of them capable in a fight, yet he had handled them as though they posed no threat at all.

What she'd just seen belonged in an action movie. Even a trained stunt performer would have needed a wire harness to pull it off, and the man she'd dismissed as a nobody had done it without so much as breaking a sweat.

She pressed a hand over her mouth, fighting the urge to gasp.

She might have underestimated him.

Cornell paid little attention to her reaction. He took out his phone, dialed, and spoke loudly enough for her to hear.

“General Sten, I'm sorry. Your granddaughter has a lot going for her, but we're not right for each other. I'll do everything I can to keep her safe. As for the engagement, I'd appreciate it if you let that go.”

There was a long silence before the old man answered.

“All right,” he said at last, the disappointment plain in his voice. “Thank you for everything you're doing. If I find someone else I can trust to protect Maria, I'll relieve you. Until then, I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to stay.”

“Yes, General.”

Cornell saluted, ended the call, and left without looking back.

He had barely gone when the phone on Maria's desk rang.

“Grandpa?”

“Well, Maria, if Cornell isn't interested, there's no point forcing it. You can't make two people want each other.” He sighed. “We'll talk about the future another time.”

He hung up.

General Sten was the strongest protection Sterling Group had. Once he was gone, there was a real chance the company would be torn apart.

He'd hoped that marrying Maria to Cornell would give her someone she could count on after his death. With that plan now in ruins, he could only deal with things as they came.

Maria sat holding the receiver.

She ought to have been relieved. Her grandfather had finally stopped trying to make her marry the man.

Instead, she felt oddly disappointed.

Someone who could speak those languages and fight like that wasn't an ordinary job applicant. Who exactly was Cornell Bateman?

By the time Cornell was walking home, the streetlights had come on, casting a dull yellow glow over the sidewalk.

A large group of men approached from ahead.

Among them was Sperm, the blond thug he'd beaten at Rebecca's building. He spotted Cornell immediately and hurried to point him out.

“Big B, that's him! The guy who beat up all three of us!”

The man leading the group was bald, with a belly stretching the front of his brightly patterned T-shirt. He looked Cornell over, taking in the pale face and unremarkable build, then slapped Sperm across the cheek.

“You had me thinking this guy was some kind of monster. Three of you couldn't handle that? Fucking useless.”

Sperm held his reddening face.

“He's good,” he muttered. “I'm telling you.”

Big B stepped into Cornell's path.

“You hurt my boys. I can't let that slide, or nobody takes me seriously.” He gave him a hard smile. “Fifteen grand, or an arm. Your choice.”

Cornell behaved as though he hadn't heard him. He didn't appear to notice the more than twenty armed men behind him, either.

He put a cigarette between his lips, lit it, and drew in a long breath. His eyes were bleak through the smoke.

“Move. I'm in a bad mood, and you don't want to make it worse.”

Big B let out a disbelieving laugh. Nobody talked to him like that.

His men found it just as funny. Around here, people knew better than to mouth off to their boss. This idiot must have lost his mind.

“Stand back. I'll take him.”

“Let me do it. I'll teach him how to talk to Big B.”

“Guy's practically begging for it.”

Big B's face darkened.

“Beat him to death.”

They rushed in, weapons raised, each expecting the same thing: a few seconds of resistance, some blood on the pavement, and then the pretty boy on his knees begging their boss for mercy.

Their first blows struck nothing.

Cornell was already moving through them, his left hand in his pocket and the cigarette still between his lips. He changed direction too quickly for them to follow. Whenever he stopped, it was just long enough to catch a wrist and turn a man's weapon against the thug beside him.

The luckier ones took blows to their shins, shoulders, or backs. Others went down clutching bleeding heads.

Within seconds, the men still standing were afraid to swing. Every time they tried to hit him, one of their own got hurt.

Cries of pain filled the street.

In less than a minute, almost all of the nearly thirty thugs were on the ground. Four or five had retreated to one side and stood trembling, too frightened to join in.

Big B had gone white. He tried to run, but his legs wouldn't hold him.

Cornell walked over, calm as ever. The man's teeth were chattering by the time he reached him.

He rested a hand on Big B's shoulder and gave it a light pat.

“If you bother Rebecca Abrams again, I'll cripple you.”

Big B nodded so hard his whole body seemed to move.

“Never. I swear. It won't happen again.”

All he wanted now was to stay as far away from this man as possible. The swagger had vanished; he could barely stop himself from bowing with every frantic nod.

“Get out of here.”

The fight had eased some of Cornell's frustration. He left the gang behind, climbed to the third floor, and let himself into the apartment.

Water was running in the bathroom. Rebecca must have been washing.

“Rebecca? You home?”

No answer.

“Hey, beautiful?”

Still nothing.

He thought of the gang outside. Had they come here first? Had they done something to her?

He hurried to the bathroom and pushed the door open.

Her scream was so loud he stuck his fingers in his ears.

Rebecca was lying in the white bathtub, wearing purple headphones. Warm light fell across her bare skin as she scrambled to cover herself. Her hands didn't quite manage the job, and for a moment Cornell could only stare.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

Her face had flushed all the way to her ears.

The shout brought him back to his senses. He drew a breath, fought down the urge to climb into the bath with her, and turned away, pulling the door shut.

“Sorry! I called you twice and you didn't answer. I thought something had happened.”

“Oh, sure you did. Your rent's going up fifteen dollars next month!”

“Fine by me.” His grin returned. “I've got a job now. You're talking to Maria Sten's new personal assistant at Sterling Group. Doesn't pay a fortune, but it's over seven hundred and fifty a month.”

The bathroom door opened again almost immediately. Rebecca emerged wrapped in a towel and stared at him as though he'd announced he was from another planet.

“You? You got hired by Sterling Group?”

“Wasn't that hard.”

His phone chimed before she could answer. The message confirmed that he'd been hired and told him to come in the following day to complete his onboarding paperwork.

Rebecca read it and raised her eyebrows.

“Well, look at you. It's actually true.” Then she smiled. “In that case, forget the fifteen. Your rent's going up seventy-five next month. You can afford it now. Keep up the good work.”

“Seventy-five? It was a hundred and twenty! How does it jump that much?”

“Please. This is downtown. You'd struggle to find a place as nice as mine for four hundred and fifty. You should be thanking me.”

She tossed her hair, gave him a look, and went back to her bath.

Cornell shook his head. He couldn't be bothered to argue over that much money.

Then his phone rang, and he raised an eyebrow at Hannah's name on the screen.

“Hey, baby. Miss me already? Come over. I'll get us a room.”

“Oh, grow up, you pervert.” Her voice turned serious. “We found out who framed you three years ago.”

The grin disappeared from his face.

He'd been hauled before a court-martial, branded a murderer, and left to carry the blame for something he hadn't done. Task Force Reaper had been disgraced along with him.

Once the spearhead of Aldovia's military, the unit had become a joke. All twelve men who'd served with him had seen their military careers cut short. They were scattered now, and he didn't know where any of them had ended up.

His hands closed into fists until his nails dug into his palms. The pain only made his anger sharper.

It was time someone paid for what they'd done.