Countdown to Zero Hour Read Online Free

lights. Men streamed from the front door, hurrying toward the conflict.
    Denim Man saw the oncoming bouncers and bodyguards and doubled his attack. He swung and sliced quickly with his blade, showing murderous skill. Art remained nimble and stable, avoiding the razor edge. If she could’ve drawn a breath she would’ve shouted some caution to Art.
    Just when he looked to be on his heels, Art launched his own assault. The knife struck out like a snake in his hand. The first jab missed, but he swiped the edge to the side and cut through the man’s shirt and into his forearm. Denim Man winced, clenching his teeth. Art didn’t let up. His knife flashed out, again and again. The man’s arm was cut in long stripes.
    Her heart thundered harder at the sight of blood in the violence. The blades were much more brutal than anything she worked with in the kitchen.
    Denim Man tried to counter, but Art blocked him with a quick punch to the shoulder that knocked him back. Art stabbed out again and sliced across the back of the man’s hand, forcing him to drop his knife.
    She winced and drew her arms tighter to her body, knowing the pain must’ve been intense.
    The man’s terrified eyes stared wide at Art’s blade. Art made him flinch with a fake stab. Denim Man never saw Art’s other fist coming in. The blow landed square on his jaw. The attacker was unconscious before he hit the ground.
    Art immediately picked up that man’s knife and patted him down for any other weapons. He found only a cell phone and tossed it to the side with the man’s wallet. He did the same for Leather Blazer, who was in too much pain to put up a struggle.
    The other men from the club descended on the scene. Half surrounded the two downed attackers, while others whisked Rolan back into the building. For a moment, the only sounds were the low groaning of Leather Blazer and the quick, hard thumping of Hayley’s pulse in her ears.
    Art emerged from the group of men and went to her, his face focused. “You okay?”
    “Yeah,” she replied. Was this the same man she’d been flirting with? He’d changed so fast, the fighter just beneath the surface. He seemed human again, but all that violence couldn’t go away that quickly. “You?”
    Still holding both knives, he checked over his hands. “Couple of nicks, nothing bad.” One of the knives had the other man’s blood on it. Art’s amazingly calm gaze moved on to her face again. “Get out of here before the cops show up.”
    She glanced down the hill to where her SUV was, trying to figure out how to switch gears between life-and-death struggles and the nuts-and-bolts details of hitching up her steam cart.
    Art grounded her with his calm and even tone. “You’re not part of this business. You just sell pelmeni, right?”
    She nodded.
    He continued. “I’ll stay with your cart. Get your car.”
    Usually taking orders prickled her, but having a clear directive helped sort out all the chaos. She jogged away from the side of the club, realizing she still held the slotted spoon like a weapon. She had clenched her fist so tight her fingers creaked when she opened them to get her keys out.
    She laid too much gas on, and the tires screeched up the hill toward the club. The group of men surrounding the downed attackers paid little attention when she double-parked. Art didn’t hold the knives anymore, and pushed the cart over to her trailer hitch. Hayley helped him hook it up, but lost most of her dexterity to jumping nerves.
    Selling her family recipe pelmeni outside a Russian nightclub had seemed like a perfect way of digging her way out of debt and turmoil. But in one night, she’d shaken hands with a mob boss and witnessed an attempted killing. The man who’d taken on and neutralized the attackers appeared way too calm. The same physicality that had flared vivid sexual fantasies had erupted into quick, devastating violence.
    Art placed his warm palm over her trembling hand. “Chef. You’ve got