by Tiya Rayne
When the auction starts at $500,000 so many hands go up it’s sickening. The next few exhibits are a lot like the first one. The most horrifying weapons you could imagine come across my screen, each one deadlier and more terrifying than the last.
Why would anyone need weapons like this? These are weapons of mass destruction. The kind of weapons sold only on the black market.
I don’t want to be here. I don’t even want to be in the same room as these people. Walker is a killer.
I know that for a fact, and I will not make an excuse for it, but the people in this room, they are pure evil. Why would Albany think I could handle this? The more the emcee rambles off the highlights of these exhibits the more my nerves get the best of me.
Look, I have no problem taking down bullies, or perverted men, or even putting assholes that call me a bitch in their place, but this is out of my league here. I’m not known to back down from a fight, but how the hell do I stop a gun that can’t even be detected by a metal detector. My nervousness is a result of feeling like I’ll fail. If this is the type of stuff I have to face to find my sister’s killer, I’m shit out of luck.
My shoulders slump as the realization that I may actually not live up to my sister’s expectation of me solving her murder takes over me. A hand appears on my shoulder. I already know who it is, the flutters alert me before I can turn around to face him.
“Do you want to leave?” he whispers in my ear.
I only nod. I want to leave this place and go back to the room. Back to before I knew shit like this existed.
Walker pulls out my chair and helps me stand before taking my hand to lead me toward the elevator we came in. I catch Scout’s dark eyes. He must understand what’s going on in my head because he nods as if he’s in agreement before turning back to the emcee. When we get to the elevator the emcee’s voice gets my attention again.
“Now, the moment we have all been waiting for. The late Dr. Evan Heimlich’s completed lost formula. The Fade Serum.”
The words mean nothing to me, but apparently, they mean a lot to Walker. He immediately stills, swinging his head over to the emcee, who is rattling off a laundry list of the most terrifying side effects of a drug possible. The way his head is tilted and his nostrils flare, I know Walker knows something about this serum.
“Let’s go,” he says, pulling me into the elevator when it opens.
Hawk
The moment the name is mentioned, I know why Red sent us here. I have understood the purpose of every place we have gone so far, but this one didn’t register. I hate clubs. Red knew that. For a moment, I thought she might be punishing me from the grave, but now I get it.
This has something to do with my last case. Dr. Evan Heimlich was a well-connected man. He had friends in high places.
At this point, it could be any one of them that might have come after me for revenge. My question now is what does this have to do with Red? The Nunnery is separate from the Church. They know what we do, but they don’t know any specifics. I’ve never given Red names of my hits, so how did she know Dr. Evan Heimlich was connected to me?
Once again, she blows me away with her talents. The gentle tremble of Brooklyn’s hand brings me back to the moment. She doesn’t want to be here. As tough as Brook is, I know that this was a lot to take in. The types of weapons mentioned here tonight are enough to scare grown men.
The ding of the elevator has me focused again. “Let’s go,” I whisper to her.
My only goal at this moment is getting her out of here and to safety. We climb in the elevator and the doors close. Brooklyn pushes the buttons to go up. The moment we start moving I pull her into me.
She comes without fuss. Her scent explodes through my senses. That soft powdery scent mixed in with the coconut and floral products she puts in her hair. I bury my face in the soft curls at the top of her head, loving the feel of the springy strands.
“It’s hard to believe that people like that exist in the world.” Her soft voice floats to my ears like a gentle caress. I hold her closer, wrapping both my arms around her as she wraps hers around me.
From what I can tell about her so far, she doesn’t show her vulnerable side to many. I’m assuming probably no one outside of her sister. I know she has to be shaken if she’s holding onto me so tightly.
“There are a lot of monsters in the world. That was why my job was so important,” I tell her.
My job was to rid the world of Dr. Heimlich and his research five years ago. I thought I did my job. The same night I killed the people of the Heimlich research lab, the Church destroyed all the research he had. Somehow something got past me.
She lifts her head from my chest and looks up at me, her breath fans my face. “Why did you stop?”
I smile. “I lost the passion for it. The first thing they teach you when you’re recruited is to love what you do. At eight-years-old, they put a gun in my hand and taught me how to fall in love with taking lives. They showed me the art of it. I craved it as much as you do painting. Then one day, I realized I wanted more.”
“My sister?” She doesn’t say it snarky like before. I think she is finally coming to terms with what Red and I had. She has no idea what the real truth is.
“Yes,” I admit. “But I wanted the real thing. Not the persona she played.
“I wanted a woman that I could love and that would love me back, not because it was her job. I wanted a wife and kids. My desire for a family clawed at me and I no longer had the passion to kill. And when you lack passion, you make mistakes.”
Which is exactly what I did. My mistake may have cost Brooklyn her sister. However, I can’t admit that to her.
The elevator dings and the low hum of the classical music greets me. I grab her hand and let her lead the way out of the elevator. She stops at the door swiping her bracelet to let us out. The door beeps and slides open. The loud music below nearly deafens me. We descend the stairs and reenter the crowded club.
I study the room for all threats. The laughter of a female to my right draws my attention for a moment. The breaking of glass on my left and the distinct sound of someone getting smacked has me looking over my shoulder.
In crowded spaces like this, I have to be fully alert. I’m still not a hundred percent sure why Scout was here. I didn’t like the fact that he thought to check up on Brooklyn.
Brooklyn stops in front of me. Her body stiffens, letting me know something is wrong. Before I can step in front of her, I’m bumped from behind, nearly knocked over. I swing around and I’m met with a clawing floral fragrance.
“I’m so sorry,” the inebriated girl slurs as she tries to wrap her arms around my neck. I grab her arms and move her away from me. “What’s the matter?” she purrs and at that moment two things register to me.
One, her breath smells nothing like alcohol, and two, Brooklyn isn’t behind me. I shove the women away from me. She’s a diversion. I spin around on my heels, searching for Brooklyn.
Someone to my left shouts. “Watch it,” drawing my attention.
Then a woman screams in a high-pitched voice. “He’s taking her.”
I shove people out of my way as I follow the commotion. I’m led to a hallway toward the bathrooms, the pounding music of the club not as loud here.
I push thorough the long line of those waiting for the bathroom to follow after Brooklyn. A blaring alarm goes off the moment the emergency exit door opens. Screaming comes from the main part of the club as everyone starts to panic.
I block out the commotion as I race to catch Brooklyn’s kidnappers. Pushing the door open, I step out to find them struggling with getting her in the car.
“Walker,” her panicked scream vibrates through me, pushing me harder than ever before.
One of the attackers hits her and she cries out. I see red. All my training kicks in.
Sensing someone to my right, I turn in time to catch a tall guy trying to attack me. He moves slow, stepping out with his left foot. He swings with his right
.
I lean back, dodging the blow that would have connected to my face. I use his momentum to shove the hand he swung down toward the ground. He stumbles forward and I chop him on the side of the neck, hitting him right in the carotid artery.
He goes down easily. I pull the gun I took from that asshole’s guard from the back of my waistband and fire a bullet in his head. A loud pop causes me to drop to the ground. I narrowly miss the shot that was fired at me.
I roll to the side to avoid the second one. I come up shooting, catching my target in the neck. He gurgles and hits the ground as the car peels off.
I aim for the tires and fire twice before chasing the automobile down the alley and onto the main road. I fire two more shots, shooting the car with one, but putting a hole in the tire with the other. The car swerves and runs up on the curve. The screams of the people standing outside of the club don’t distract me as I race toward the wrecked car.
A door opens, drawing my attention to the driver’s side. I place a slug in the driver before he can pull the trigger of the gun he drops to the ground. When the back door opens, I can hear Brooklyn fighting with the person in the back.
He gives up on his attempt to flee with her and turns to run. I take out the back of his kneecap with my gun and he falls to the ground. The next shot blows out the back of his head. I fire again and don’t stop until the clip is empty. Placing it back at my waistband. I rush to the back of the car.
“Brooklyn, baby?”
Her whimpers lure me to her. As soon as I reach the car she springs up, wrapping her arms around my neck. I pull her out of the car, and she wraps her legs around my waist and buries her face in my neck. She has had enough for tonight.
A car pulls up behind me. I turn ready to defend her with my bare hands, but it’s Steven. “Hey you two, get in,” he shouts.
I open the back door and squeeze at Brooklyn’s thigh. She loosens her legs from around me and drops them down to the ground. I scoop her up at the back of her legs and climb into the car holding her like a bride.
I don’t let her go when we’re inside. Her shaking body makes me tighten my hold on her. My little warrior has reached her limit.
“I thought you weren’t going to find me for a minute. I thought they were going to take me.” My jaw clenches as I hold her tightly to me.
“You should never fear that, Brooklyn. I will always find you.”
Although the words are said with confidence, that is my biggest fear. I have my greatest desire in my arms, and I’m no better prepared to protect her than I was the day I walked away from the Church. I wish I could take her away from all this, but I can’t.
I have to solve Red’s case. Not for closure or to clear my name, but because someone linked to her murder is after Brooklyn. I will shut the entire world down before I let anyone take what belongs to me.
I accept your challenge, Red. I will claim her.
Chapter 15
Claimed
Brooklyn
I’m so over this shit. My face throbs from where that fat fucker struck me. I tried to claw his eyes out in that back seat. I knew something was wrong the moment the other guy walked up in front of me in that tight crowd.
I was about to tell Walker when the fat fucker grabbed me out of nowhere and covered my mouth. I bit his hand so hard I’m surprised I didn’t taste blood. Thank God, people realized I was in danger. One guy even tried to block our paths before he got shoved out of the way.
I was so fucking relieved when Walker came out the door like a superhero. Now I cling to him like he’s my lifeline as he carries me through the door of our hotel suite. Not once has he let me go since he pulled me out of that car. Not that I would let him.
He doesn’t argue. Instead continues to carry me into the bedroom. He climbs on the bed with me still clutched in his arms. Laying us both down on our sides on the soft white comforter.
“Are you hurt anywhere?” He’s facing me. One arm is under my ribs while his hand is planted at my lower back.
I stare up into his beautiful eyes. “My face,” I whisper.
“I’ll go get you some ice.” He tries to move, but I bury my hands into the lapels of his suit jacket and my face into his chest.
I don’t want ice. I don’t care about my face. I don’t want him to leave me.
I’m acting like a child. I get it, but this is something I never got to do when I was younger. I was the slayer of monsters, the one that held my sister when she was afraid. I didn’t get to curl up into anyone’s chest and be afraid. Sometimes, you need that moment to be vulnerable.
“Don’t leave me, please.”
“Never.” That one single word comes out with so much emotion, I can’t help but think he’s talking about more than just now.
He kisses my forehead, dragging his lips over the surface to leave trails of his kisses. I’ve fought vehemently against my attraction to Walker. I’ve run from it, argued against, and even denied it.
Yet, I don’t want to anymore. I’m so tired of keeping my guard up, trying to watch every single thing someone does to make sure they aren’t trying to hurt me. I want to stop fighting.
That’s why I tilt my head up so that his lips can touch mine. I crave to feel them again. The kiss in the alley was only a sample of what I know he has in store for me. I now want to claim it all.
“Kiss me, Walker,” I demand.
He moves the hand on my hip up my body in a slow exploration. He traces every dip and valley on his journey to cup my face. His gorgeous eyes look down on me before he closes them and presses his lips to mine.
At first, it’s slow and delicate as if he’s testing me. Just as he did with my forehead, he drags his lips over mine, kissing every corner and every plump inch. I’ve never had a kiss feel so intimate.
His tongue has yet to slip inside to tangle with mine, but I’m already so worked up, I moan. The moment the sound slips out, he pushes into my warm cavern for a kiss that has me clenching my thighs. He dominates my mouth, kissing me with a maddening possession.
I don’t even realize he has rolled me onto my back and is lying between my legs until I rock my hips forward and brush the knot in his pants. Alarm bells in my head go off. It shouldn’t be that big, should it? I’ve seen him in his boxers.
Like, maybe I’m reading it wrong. I reach my hand between our clutched bodies to test out my theory. I gasp at what I discover. Walker grabs my hand and forces it above my head. My heart is beating overtime.
“Don’t worry,” he says breathing heavily down into my face. “I will make it fit.”
Sure, like a fucking Mack truck into a Volkswagen.
“Walker, wait,” I say when he sits up on his knees between my legs.
He places a finger to my lips to still my concern. “Let me touch you.” There is a pleading to his voice that I have never heard before. Something that strikes me as strange yet so sweet.
I shut my mouth. He climbs off the bed and holds out a hand for me to follow him. I stand before him, my back to the bed, and kick off the heels on my feet.
He doesn’t move at first, only watches me. Then slowly he touches my hair. It’s gentle. He toys with one of the curls, rubbing it between his fingers and then tugs it down where it rests past my breast before he allows it to bounce back up to my shoulders.
He then glides his fingers into my curls, rubbing my scalp before sliding down the back of my neck and coming around to the front. He cups my neck on both sides with his hands, both thumbs rub gentle circles over my throat before he travels up to outline my chin. He keeps one hand wrapped around my neck while with the other he traces my jawline, my nose, my lips, to the round shape of my eyes.
He takes his time examining me. It’s like he’s touching every little detail of me and recording it to memory. I stand silently, allowing him this. I’ve come to the realization that he’s determined to go slowly.
He moves both hands to my shoulders. Gripping my dress, he stretches the tight fabric down my sh
oulders, drags it to my hands. He stops, allowing me to pull my hands out of the long sleeved dress.
When the dress hangs loosely off my hips, he traces his fingers on my sides. Following the curve of my hourglass figure and then around to my front where he lightly cups my breasts in his hands. He strums his thumbs over my hardened nipples and I gasp at how sensual it feels.
He doesn’t seem to be in a rush, and I love that. With his eyes trained on mine, he lowers his head slowly. My breathing increases as his silky hair falls to cover his face. It brushes my skin right as his tongue darts out to lick my chocolate areola.
I moan his name as I fist my hands at my sides. Walker takes his time tasting and exploring my breasts. He works my body up so much I can feel my arousal sticking between my thighs. He kisses and sucks every inch of both my breasts. My knees go weak and he grips me around my waist with one arm while the other holds my breast up for his attention.
Finally, he lets my nipple fall from his mouth with a pop before standing up straight. Those soul-searching eyes, watching me carefully.
“Sit.” It’s a command that I follow obediently. My legs are too weak to refuse him.
I plop down on the edge of the bed and he stands over me as he loosens his tie, snatching it from around his neck. I don’t remember when Walker took off his jacket, but he’s now standing in front of me in nothing but a white button up that’s dirty and has a small bloodstain on it that I’m just now noticing.
“You’re bleeding,” I inform him of something I’m sure he already knows.
He shakes his head. “It isn’t mine.”
“Are you—” my words are cut off when he grabs my thigh and hikes up my leg to his waist, causing me to fall back. He releases my thigh and stands between my legs.
“It isn’t mine,” he reiterates before he bunches the fabric of my dress at my waist.
He tugs it down over my wide hips, causing me to lift a little. My knees are pushed to my chest, allowing him to pull the dress down my legs and off. I keep my knees together and scoot further up to the middle of the bed. He tosses the red material over his shoulder and focuses back on me.