The big guy pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and handed it to her. She tried to smile but wasn't sure she managed. She was mourning her family's reaction to her 'death.' She was allowed to be sad. And tired. She was so damn tired. The trail narrowed, so they had to travel single file. Drake went before her so the big guy could help him through the rock-strewn path.
"Just a little bit further." Joseph's voice was low as he stepped up. "It’s hard, what you’re going through."
Jillian shook her head. As if this guy would know. "They'll never forgive me."
"Not your fault, not your doing. You want to protect them, right?"
Jillian spun to look at the man. He was big, greying black hair and green eyes. His eyes were...hell, haunted, maybe? She turned back around, trying to absorb the intensity of the man behind her. "Of course I want to protect them." Of that, there was no doubt.
She watched Drake's leg buckle. The guy with the rifle grabbed his arm and kept him upright. "Drake is a good man. He's family."
Jillian turned around. "That sounded like a threat."
Joseph leveled a stare at her. "Did it?"
She nodded and held his gaze. It was hard, but she wasn't going to be the one to look away first.
A smirk spread across the man's face. "You'll do."
Jillian frowned at the man. "I'll do? What does that mean?" She crossed her arms over her chest, ready for a fight. Tired, angry that she couldn't change her situation, and thirty seconds away from sitting down and crying, she threw caution to the wind and faced off with the person who had come to rescue them. Stupid, mainly since he was as big if not bigger than Drake.
A full smile transformed the man's features. "You have spirit, and instead of breaking down into a blubbering mess you bucked up. " He nodded down the trail. "We need to keep moving."
Jillian blinked at him before turning on her heel. "That was a compliment, right?" She shot that comment over her shoulder as they started down the path.
Low laughter, the type that sent chills down your spine during a horror film, floated toward her before he answered. "Yes, yes it was."
Jillian suppressed a shiver as the events of the last forty-eight hours flashed through her mind. Thank goodness this guy was on their side. She doubted things would have turned out as well if he wasn't.
She scrambled down after Drake, and as the path widened into a small meadow, she ducked under his arm and allowed him to put some of his weight on her shoulders when they traversed uneven ground. The terrain was grueling to travel with two good legs, she could only imagine how much pain he was in.
"Thank you." She whispered the words to him, not intending on letting the other men hear her.
He glanced down at her. His face was drawn, and there were circles under his eyes. "For what?"
"For taking care of me. For doing what you can for my family. For loving me." Tears fell from her eyes as she looked up at him.
He stopped and swiped his thumb over her cheek, wiping away the moisture. "I'm sorry that you, Cliff and Matthew have to endure the coming weeks, but I promise I'll do everything I can. I love you." He leaned down and kissed her forehead.
"I know," Jillian answered. At the bottom of everything, all the swirling, chaotic mess of events, that very truth was her foundation. "I love you, too."
Joseph walked by. "About a half mile more." He continued on without looking back.
Drake drew a deep breath. "Come on, babe. Time to go home."
Chapter 24
Drake sat with his injured leg propped up on the railing as he sat with his ass planted in one of the oversized rockers he and Dixon had built for the wraparound porch. Cat, the animal that had adopted him because he made the mistake of feeding it, jumped into his lap. He was exhausted, but he knew he’d have a visitor, sooner rather than later. Drake stroked the short mousey-colored fur of the scraggly-assed cat. Cat wound up her Briggs and Stratton motor, but the damn thing had a hitch in her get-along. Every so often Cat squeaked in the middle of her purr and then had to start the motorboat going again. She was a pathetic excuse for a cat, with a bobtail that had a kink in it and half an ear missing, but she was a good mouser. He’d actually bought the damn animal food—expensive, canned, brand-name-type, cat food, but she preferred the mice and bugs she caught.
A few low cattle calls punctuated the quiet of the night. Drake closed his eyes and listened as he thought over the last fourteen hours or so. He’d been proud of Jillian today. She’d been a trooper. Throughout the trip down, she’d stayed with him, side-by-side, following Joseph without complaint. She sat through the video link debriefing and gave her statement to Jared. Jillian even stayed by his side while Doc tortured his wounds and examined his shoulder. After declaring he’d live and slapping a Band-Aid with hearts on it over a minor abrasion, Doc got a meal sent to Drake’s house and drove them down in his truck, which was cool—although now that he had time to think about it, climbing into that beast may have been harder than walking the distance to the house would have been. They ate in near silence. Not that there was any strain other than exhaustion. He showed her the bedroom and en-suite. Jillian moved like she was a zombie, showered and then immediately face planted in the bed. He’d lay odds the woman was asleep before she hit the sheets. He couldn’t blame her. It had been an exhausting day.
Drake had just finished talking with Jacob. The obituary for Doctor Jillian Law would be published tomorrow. Cliff and Matthew had been notified by state police of Jillian's death. Drake hated putting them through the pretense, but when Guardian explained why perhaps he'd be forgiven.
He closed his eyes and shook his head. "We will reach out to them as soon as we can, they will understand why. I'd go myself, but we can't send anyone that could tie Jillian to you or to us. There are ways, shadows if you will, that can get to them without being seen. I'll let you know when we've reached out."
"Thank you." Drake would be able to let Jillian know when her father and brother were notified. It wasn't much, but it was something.
"We also put a notice in Dixon's dead drop. We don't know if he's been able to check it."
"Have you heard anything from him?"
"Not directly, but we have a...resource who has seen him. He's doing what he needs to do."
Doing what he needs to do. Jacob's words echoed in his mind. Dixon had done what he needed to do the last time he'd been trapped with that son of a bitch. The ramifications had lasted years. He prayed Dix was checking his electronic dead drop. The rat-bastard of a sperm donor would use notification of Drake's death to hurt Dixon.
He heard the footfall before the familiar form came into view. Drake smiled into the darkness.
Frank dropped into the other rocker and pushed off, sending his chair into motion. “Heard you blew up Joseph’s cabin.”
“Yup.” It wasn’t a cabin; it was a house. A damn nice one, and yeah, they’d blown it to smithereens. “Pretty sure I’m never living that one down. I could find the cure for cancer, and my headstone will still read...” he motioned with his hand, “…he blew up Fury’s cabin.”
Frank gave his “no shit, stupid” grunt and Drake chuckled. The man could say more with a grunt than most people could say in two minutes of talking.
“You and your woman are invited to dinner tomorrow night. Amanda wanted to give you today to settle in.” Frank reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out two pieces of taffy. He offered one to Drake.
“Appreciate that.” He took the candy and unwrapped it while Cat investigated it. Frank shook his head as Cat’s motor hitched and squeaked. “Never figured you for a cat person.”
“Ha, well neither did I.” He bopped her in the nose with the wax paper, and she took offense, promptly showing them her tail as she left. Drake popped the candy into his mouth and started refolding the wrapper.
“Dixon?”
Frank’s one-word question opened the box he’d tried to keep a lid on since he’d asked Joseph for a status update. Hell, even Jared
had nothing more to give him. The not knowing was chipping away at him, leaving him feeling hollow, empty and more than a bit worried. But, that was his battle, no one else’s. Drake shrugged and replied as emotionlessly as he could, “Nothing direct. He's alive and still undercover.”
Frank looked out into space and then let out a sound that Drake did not want to hear. “Huh.”
Drake knew that comment always had something behind it. Getting Frank to voice the words might take a miracle, but he knew the man had something to say. “Huh, what?”
Frank sent him a sideways look. “Seems strange, that’s all.”
“Care to explain?” Drake took his leg off the porch railing, so he could turn and face Frank. “They tried to kill you, twice. Tried to take out Chief and Taty.”
“Maliki, too,” Drake added.
Frank turned his attention back to Drake for a moment. “That so? Have I ever met him?”
Drake shook his head. “Don’t think he’s ever been to the ranch.”
Frank nodded and returned gazing out into the darkness before he continued, “Right. Anyway, from what I’ve overheard, they see Dixon on them street cameras. Makes me wonder. If we see him, wouldn’t you assume whoever’s hunting you sees him, too?”
Drake nodded. Of course, they’d see him, but he grasped at a straw. “Maybe they don’t know where he is. He’s changed locations.” It seemed like years ago since he’d been told that his brother was no longer in New York. Hell, maybe he was back. Drake shut down the supposition before it started to repeat through his brain in a sadomasochistic mantra.
Frank gave another grunt. This one told him he was a dumbass. He shook his head and smiled. He’d been on the receiving end of that grunt a few times.
“Asked myself, why would they be staying away from Dixon?” Drake waited, his mind spinning with possibilities while Frank seemed to consider his words. The older man turned his eyes to Drake. “Been pondering that some. In my mind, comes down to one conclusion. Someone’s protecting him. Someone connected to whoever is after you.”
His father. The man loved Dixon, in a fucked up kind of way, but Drake never doubted that his sperm donor loved Dixon as much as said sperm donor hated him. The bastard. Drake clamped his jaw shut and ground his teeth together.
Frank sat forward and turned his head to Drake. “I took a liberty. I called Jason and told him what my doddering old mind had spun together. Wanted you to know.”
Doddering old mind, my ass. Frank was a fucking genius. One that spoke in grunts and would rather deal with animals than humans, but a genius nonetheless. Drake nodded his head, silently thanking Frank for his incentive.
Frank stood and stretched. “You head on in now. Get into bed with that filly and get some sleep. Heard there is a mountain of paperwork waiting for you.” Frank stepped off the porch but spoke over his shoulder, “Dinner’s at six. Don’t make me wait.”
“Like that has ever happened,” Drake spoke louder at Frank’s retreating back.
“There is a first for everything, son. Don’t get uppity or I’ll take you down a peg or two.”
Drake laughed, “Yes, sir.” He had no doubt Frank could still do some damage. The man was on the near side of sixty, and he was tougher than a wolverine protecting her den.
Drake stood slowly and tested his weight on his leg. He limped a bit, but it wasn’t too bad. He walked into the house and back to his master suite. When he and Dixon had built the house, they took into account that one day they might both have significant others or that they would share someone but still need their own space. The right side of the house was Dixon’s. The left was Drake’s. They had identical master bedrooms, en-suites, and office areas. They shared a massive living room, plus a kitchen and theater room. Drake made his way back to the bedroom. He shucked his clothes and slipped into bed.
Jillian rolled over and snuggled up next to him. “What took you so long?” Jillian purred, as she trailed a hand over his abs and then traveled lower.
Drake’s body took immediate notice. Making love to her might be a test in ingenuity, though. His leg was out of commission for at least a couple days, but he could think of several ways they could enjoy the comfort of his California King bed.
He turned to face her as her hand found his cock. Her grip tightened, and his eyes may have rolled back into his head for a moment. She pushed him onto his back and lifted up, sending the sheets cascading down along with her thick fall of dark blonde hair. “You, Mr. Simmons, were told by the doctor to rest. I believe his words were, ‘exert no effort’.” She leaned down and licked a strip up his cock. Drake bucked into her hand and groaned. He didn’t remember Doc saying any such thing, but he wasn’t going to say a fucking word. He was a genius after all.
Jillian’s hot breath along the side of his cock sent a shudder of passion through him. He clutched the sheets in his fist and tried desperately not to come within two minutes, like some pimple-faced teenager during his first sexual encounter. But her mouth…holy fuck, her mouth and tongue were enough to break a man. Drake swore and groaned as his hips bucked up into that beautiful suction. He was so fucking close. Jillian must have sensed it, too, because she popped off and straddled him. At this rate, he wasn’t going to last, and he would be damned if he came before her. He grabbed her hips and lifted her up over his mouth. His arms circled her thighs, and he pulled her down. He felt her body jerk when his tongue made contact. Drake loved the taste of her, loved how responsive she was to his touch, how she chased her own pleasure. He held on, finding her clit and teasing, sucking and licking her into a frenzy as she moved her hips against his mouth. She gripped his hair, and her thighs tightened around his head as she climaxed. Drake groaned as he lapped up her release. She gasped and lifted away when he assaulted her clit with his tongue.
Just when he thought the woman couldn’t get any sexier, she lowered and kissed him, licking his lips and delving into his mouth. The taste of herself obviously turned his little minx on. Fuck. He reached behind her and grabbed his cock, squeezing the base to give himself some time.
She looked behind her and then returned her gaze toward him. “I want to ride you.”
Drake held her waist with one hand and his cock with the other. “You like that, huh? Being in charge and riding your man?”
Her grin was the stuff of wet dreams. She sat back and arched as he slid into her tight, wet, heat. Jillian dropped her hand to his chest and draped them in a shroud of blonde hair. “Yee-haw and giddy-up, big boy.”
His hand snaked up from her waist and twisted in her hair as he gently tugged her down for a kiss. He released her as he thrust up, their breaths mingled as she held herself just above him. He retreated and thrust again. Drake waited until she focused on him. His hips continued long, languid strokes that propelled him toward release. “You overwhelm me.”
He was lost in her. He was never supposed to find this part of himself. Yes, he was a bastard for falling in love when his brother was in peril. Yes, he was a bastard for pulling Jillian into his world, and yes, he was a bastard for wanting a life with her, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t. Not when his life had been rearranged on an existential level.
“I love you, Drake. I love the man you are, the wonderful brother you’ve always been, the strong guardian you’ve become and even the part of you that is my nerdy friend. But I don’t want to talk right now.” She ground her hips down on him before she whispered, “Giddy-up, horsey.”
Drake threw back his head and laughed as she moved to brace herself on his shoulders. “Yes, ma’am.” He grabbed her waist and obeyed her command. He was so fucking owned.
Chapter 25
Jillian hurried across the hard-frozen ground. Even in her down-filled coat and lined boots the cold November wind sliced through her. She loved the ranch and the complex, and since she’d arrived four months ago, she’d kept busy working on perfecting Delbert. Joey had gone back to get it for her. Joey…she smiled into the thick scarf that kept the biting wind
from lashing at her face. Ember called her husband, Joey. Nobody else did, at least not to his face. Ember, Keelee, Jasmine, Sky, Lyric, Amanda and Aunt Betty had adopted her. She’d learned that each one of them had arrived at the ranch in different ways, but for each of them, love kept them firmly planted in the South Dakota soil.
It was Winchester Wednesday. The social event of the week. The ladies drank wine and watched Sam and Dean while they gossiped about the happenings around the ranch and complex. The men had childcare duties. They swapped responsibilities on Thursdays, so the guys could play poker, drink single malt and do whatever it was that men did when they bonded. She was late. For some reason, Jason King, the brother who was the CEO of Guardian had a scheduling conflict and needed to discuss the status of her miniaturization of the power pack for the long- distance coms units. It was going well, and she sent in weekly updates to the logistics branch chief. Why Jason King needed a personal briefing was beyond her. He kept her until she knew she was late. Hopefully, the ladies waited for her to start the episode. It was the second part of a two-part thriller that had Dean in purgatory…again.
She stomped her boots off on the front porch and opened the grand door to the ‘big house’ where Frank and Amanda lived. It was the ranch version of a mansion. Huge, but warm and inviting with a massive fireplace. She unwrapped her scarf and hung it on one of the many pegs that lined the wall, calling out as she stripped out of her coat. “Please tell me you didn’t start yet!”
“No, I didn’t start.”
Jillian spun at the sound of Drake’s voice. “You’re here!” She leaned around him to look into the great room. A hundred candles twinkled on every surface. She stood straight again and spun to her left, looking into the dining room that was dark and deserted. “Where is everyone? Why are you here?” Drake laughed and rubbed the back of his neck like he did when he was embarrassed. “What’s going on?”
Drake (The Kings of Guardian Book 11) Page 20