The Seven: A Taste for Jazz: Book 3 of The Seven series by Ciana Stone Page B

her mind. Conner! Shit on a stick! She shouldn't have left him alone.
    Executing a sliding turn in the middle of the road that would have done a stunt driver proud, she opened up the engine of the powerful bike for as much speed as it would give. Even at top-speed she was a good half hour away from Conner's house.
    Sending out a silent plea that she'd end up with egg on her face and Conner would be safe and sound, she raced toward his house.
    *****
    Conner was safe. But as pissed off as he'd ever been in his life. Not only had he neglected to turn back on the alarm system after Jazz left, he'd forgotten to arm the security in his lab.
    Now he sat at his desk with a giant of a man standing three feet away with a gun pointed straight at him who claimed to be there to take him to a man he was going to do business with.
    That told Conner enough. Someone either wanted what he was working on bad enough to kidnap him or to get rid of him. Either way, it was exactly as Jazz had predicted.
    "Here's the deal, doc," the giant said with a snide grin. "You'n'me's gonna take a ride. And you ain't gonna fight me, cuz if you do, I'll shoot you in the knees and drag your sorry ass outta here. And what's more, if you give me any trouble, and I do mean any at all, I'm gonna come back and wait on that bitch Jazz. And when I finish having my fill of her, I'll deliver her head on a platter. Now we straight?"
    Conner's first inclination was to take his chances and have a go at the giant. He was big, but didn't look like he'd be too fast. But then there was the matter of the gun. No way he could outrun a bullet. He could, however, shift - and that might give him an advantage.
    But what sealed the deal for him was what the man said about Jazz. It made Conner's blood run cold. The thought of that ugly hood's hands on Jazz was enough to make him see red. He'd bide his time and make sure this big thug never got a chance to lay a hand on Jazz.
    "Yeah, we're straight," he said then asked, "You have a name or you just want me to call you Ugly?"
    Barnette barked a laugh. "Call me Barnette, motherfucker."
    "Fine, motherfucker. I need to enter the last of this equation while it's still in my head or whoever you're working for is going to be really disappointed."
    "What the fuck ever."
    Conner typed in a quick string of commands that would route a message through his computer to his email account and from there to Jazz's cell phone. It would take a bit of time but was the best he could do on short notice.
    He finished, made a show of putting a thumb-drive into a USB slot, and copied a bunch of worthless data to it. Once it was done, he removed the drive and held his hands out to his side as he slowly stood. He'd play along until the moment presented itself, then he was going to break this fucker's neck.
    "You done?" Barnette asked.
    "Got it all right here," Conner wiggled the drive back and forth.
    "Good, then let's move. You're driving."
    Conner led the way to the garage, selecting the Jaguar. Not because it was fast or even his favorite vehicle but because he'd specifically mentioned to Jazz that he'd just LoJacked it with the latest technology and had even shown her the small remote he'd created that could tap into any LoJack system in the country, giving him constant access to the car's location.
    He'd developed the remote as a test and intended to offer it up freely to every law enforcement agency in the country.
    Right now, he hoped Jazz remembered it. He didn't expect or want her to come to his rescue. He just wanted her to be able to pinpoint him.
    He climbed in behind the wheel as Big Ugly, as he thought of his captor, wedged himself into the passenger seat.
    Conner started the car, drove to the entrance of the estate and stopped.
    "Why the fuck you stopping?" Barnette asked
    "You want me to choose where we're going?" Conner hoped the moron picked up on the sarcasm.
    "Head south for the I-4 connection."
    Conner turned left and headed south, keeping