Trouble (Bad Boy Homecoming Book 2)

by Avery Flynn

  Leah

  Warren Law did not look like Leah's mental image of the head of an international jewelry theft ring. He wore pleated Dockers and a pressed golf shirt. If this were a movie, he'd be the unassuming friend who was actually the heroine's insane stalker because she'd had the audacity to turn him down for sex and his fragile male ego had been harmed. He was a total nice-guy-asshole type.

  Warren stopped in front of the kitchen chair she was tied to and peered down at her. She had to make quite the picture since she was Duct taped to the chair, had a length of the silver tape across her mouth and her left cheek was so swollen she could see the edge of it in her peripheral vision. If she could have flipped him off or snarled out a smart ass remark she would have. As it was, the best she could do was glare at him, which earned her a patronizing chuckle.

  Warren patted her on the head and turned back to the shitbag of a dirty FBI agent. "I'm beginning to think she's not that important to him."

  "She is," Curtis said, his voice sounding funny since he'd stuffed gauze up his broken nose.

  Warren went stiff. "Are you telling me I'm wrong?"

  "No, sir." Curtis's gaze dropped to the floor and he took a step back from the other man. "It's just, you haven't seen the two of them together. It's like they're an old married couple who still bang on the regular."

  "How eloquent," Warren said.

  That was one word for it. Leah would have chosen bullshit. She hated Drew Jackson. It was just she couldn't help herself from stripping him naked—or wanting to—every time she was within sixty miles of him. That didn't mean anything. Sure, she'd grown up crushing on him and that summer he'd become her first love, but that was over. The feeling had flipped. Love and hate were opposite sides of the same coin, not the same thing at all.

  Curtis shrugged. "You don't pay me to talk pretty."

  "True." Warren nodded. "I pay you for the information you can provide about what the FBI is up to. Now that is no more."

  Oh, he sounded pissed. Looked like someone wasn't going to get a good employee review come bonus time.

  "They knew," Curtis said. "It's why I had to get rid of Ritter. He'd been informing on me."

  Got rid of. You didn't have to be a scumbag to know what that meant. Fuck. All of the sass drained right out of her.

  "You do realize you didn't tape over her ears too?" Warren asked, jerking her chin toward Leah.

  Nope. She wasn't here. Not really. The ringing in her ears from being knocked out was too loud for her to hear anything. Surely, if she thought it loud enough they'd hear it.

  Curtis turned and looked at her, his hand going to his swollen nose. "Is she really getting out of here?"

  "No, I guess not," Warren said.

  The urge to panic and fight against her bonds was nearly overwhelming, but she'd already gone that route when she'd woken up and found herself in the shitty kitchenette. It hadn't helped.

  "Everything with this heist has gone wrong, my cover is blown, and now I'm stuck clipping all the loose ends," Warren said, grimacing. "The good news though is after I move this damned diamond, I'm going to disappear to someplace tropical for a good long while."

  Warren's phone rang out a hard rock anthem. Everyone stilled. Warren glanced down at the phone, his smile sent a shiver down her spine.

  "Sheriff, I'd begun to think you didn't care," Warren said before pausing, an amused expression on his face. "You have a real talent for language. I've never been threatened quite like that before and believe me, in this line of work, being threatened is du rigor. However, we're not here for a friendly chat. We'll make the exchange tomorrow at high noon. Bring the diamond to the high school gym." He waited while Drew said something Leah couldn't make out. "Yes, I'm aware it will be crowded, what with all the last minute preparations for the reunion tomorrow. This place really goes all out for that sort of thing, don't they?" She couldn't understand the words Drew used in response but the pissed off tone was unmistakable. "I suppose you don't give a shit about the reunion preparations. I hope that attitude doesn't carry over to sweet Leah here. I'd hate to be disappointed." Without waiting for Drew to say anything else, Warren hung up and slid the phone in the front pocket of his pleated Dockers, walked over to the kitchen counter and slid open one of the drawers.

  "All set?" Curtis asked.

  "Almost." He took something out of the drawer and spun around, something black and metal in his hand.

  She had a second to register the handgun with a silencer attached before the muffled shot boomed in her ears, a million times louder than it was in reality. Curtis went down but left half of his head on the wall behind him.

  “I’m not normally a violent man,” Warren said, his voice cold. “But loose ends are meant to be tied”

  Leah couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. Panic roared in her ears. She yanked at the Duct taped bonds securing her forearms to the chair with all her strength and tugged at the ones holding her calves to the chair legs. By the time the fear and adrenaline had abated enough for her to think any single thought beyond "get out" she realized Warren had disappeared down the hall leading away from the kitchen, leaving her alone with the dead man and her terrified thoughts.

  8

  Drew

  There was no way in hell Drew was waiting until tomorrow to rescue Leah. That little lie had only been to buy some time and make Law feel like he was in control. In reality, Drew and Lexie had kicked it into high gear. He'd pulled rank for the last time in Catfish Creek and the sheriff's office SWAT was on its way. By the time Isaac and Tamara got to his house, it would be go time.

  He set down his night scope next to the rest of the weapons he'd gathered. The surface of his kitchen table was invisible under the armory spread out on it. Overkill? Hopefully, but he wasn't going to chance Leah's safety on being short a box of bullets. The thought made bile rise in his throat. Focusing on the job had been the only thing keeping him sane since he'd gotten off the phone with Law. He—scratch that—Leah couldn't afford for him to surrender to the what-ifs and could-happens.

  He glanced down at his cell sitting in the middle of the weapons. "Lexie, tell me you've found something."

  "I've narrowed it down to two possibilities," the hacker's voice crackled out of his cell phone's crappy speaker.

  His gut clenched. "Possibilities? I thought you were good."

  "Fuck you very much, I'm amazing but I can't magic people out of thin air."

  Shit.

  He dialed back the anxiety again. "You're right. I'm sorry."

  "Don't worry about it. I'm not feeling very polite right now either," she said. "Okay, the first is one of those communal living buildings developers are pushing on the young and dumb."

  Communal living? ”I don't even know what that means."

  "It's like a dorm but for adults," she explained. "The unit in Catfish Creek has individual studio apartments and a few one-bedroom units with kitchenettes."

  "What makes you think they're there?"

  "A combination of red-light camera video showing Curtis's government-issued car at different locations nearby and security footage from an ATM across the street that showed a man and a woman fitting Curtis's and Leah's descriptions going inside."

  All of that sounded like a lock. The fact that it wasn't had him pacing across his kitchen's tile floor. "I hear a but."

  Lexie let out a tortured sigh, obviously as wound up as he was. "The lighting in the video sucked and the angle was worse. It could be Curtis holding up a wobbly Leah or it could be a drunk couple weaving their way home after a long night."

  Fuck. Not what he wanted to hear. "Option two?"

  "An extended-stay hotel a mile away from the first possibility."

  "What makes it look good for this?" he asked as he grabbed the phone and carried it to the darkened living room where he could watch the street for activity without being observed.

  "The location and the fact that someone is registered under an alias Law uses."

  "Why isn
't that a for sure?" Jesus, the woman liked to draw things out.

  "Because John Smith is one of the favorite alias’ of cheating husbands too. If it is him, it's a brilliantly stupid move."

  If he'd been in a more charitable mood and not on the verge of killing the asshole, Drew would have agreed.

  "Isaac and Tamara there yet?" Lexie asked. "I'm showing they should be."

  A set of headlights appeared on his darkened street. A second later, a nondescript car pulled into his drive. Isaac and an icy blonde got out.

  "They’re here."

  "Good. I'm shooting you the addresses and building layout specs of each target right now," Lexie said. "Bring her home."

  As if failure was even an option.

  "I'll be doing that," he said. "No matter what."

  Leah

  The kitchen was pitch dark, but the metallic scent of fresh blood penciled in every detail she couldn't see of Curtis's dead body only a few feet from her. This wasn't a place she ever saw herself going. If she was going to die in Catfish Creek, she'd always figured it would have been one of The Hamburger Shack greasy burgers that would do her in. The panicked giggle that escaped was muffled by the Duct tape across her mouth.

  She tested the tape securing her forearm to the chair. Despite her pulling, tugging, and yanking, it hadn't budged.

  There was no way Warren was going to let her or anyone else walk away tomorrow even if he got the diamond—his killing Curtis without even blinking showed just how far over the line Warren had gone. There was no coming back. And if she didn't do something, he'd take out Drew. She wouldn’t—couldn’t—let that happen. Even the thought of it made all the air disappear from the room and there was only one explanation for that, the kind you came to when you could count the rest of your life in minutes and everything else that seemed so important before slipped away.

  For someone who's supposed to be a brainiac, you sure can be stupid.

  She loved Drew. She'd loved him since she was six years old and as much as he'd broken her heart, all the jagged pieces were still meant for only one man and she wasn't about to let some psycho hurt him.

  Drew

  The deputies in the unmarked mobile command unit were four blocks down. Drew stood at the halfway point between Lexie's top two possibilities and right in the middle of Isaac Camacho's glare zone. The fuck yous had gone unspoken so far. As former military special forces, Isaac knew as well as Drew did that they didn't have time for that now. Later? They'd probably both walk away with black eyes and bruises—but just because Drew knew he deserved them didn't mean he was going to take his medicine without hitting back.

  "I don't like splitting up," Isaac grumbled, shoving a hand through his shaggy brown hair.

  "Too bad," Drew said. "We have two possible locations and one could simply be a decoy. We can't take that chance with Leah's life on the line."

  Isaac puffed up his chest and took a step toward him. "Wonder who in the hell let that happen."

  Pound for pound, inch for inch they were evenly matched. Add to that the fact that they were both pissed off at the same person and it could go explosive fast.

  "It's not the time or the place," Tamara said, a harsh enough blast of frigid cold in her tone to stop Drew in his tracks.

  "You're right." Drew nodded at the woman who looked every inch like the bitchy ex-beauty queen she was. "Won't happen again."

  "Oh yes it will," Isaac countered. "But not until after we have my sister back."

  "Then let's get to it. We're all patched into the SWAT command center." He tapped the communicator that looked like an earbud but worked for ingoing and outgoing voice traffic, not to mention the ability to go old school and talk in tapped code to communicate when talking wasn't an option. "You take the communal living place and I'll check out the extended stay hotel."

  "What, no backup?" Isaac asked with a snarl.

  Already amped up, Drew reached deep for the calm he needed to get through this. "I can handle it. Anyway, my extra guys are out looking for the other FBI agent, Ritter, and manning the command center so this doesn't go pear shaped. This is Catfish Creek, in case you forgot it, it's not like we've got an unending supply of deputies."

  After a curt nod from Isaac, Drew continued. “Anyway, it's recon only. When we locate her, we call in the others before attempting to exfil. Are we clear?"

  Isaac nodded. "Crystal."

  With a nod, he took off at a jog, sticking close to the shadows toward the Metroplex Extended Stay Hotel. John Smith was staying in room four eighteen. There wasn't anyone in the rooms above, below or beside him, according to what Lexie was able to bring up—all of which made his gut twitch considering how hard it was to get a hotel room in Catfish Creek this week.

  Getting through the front door of the hotel when he was in full black tactical clothing, wearing a bulletproof vest, and carrying enough firepower to take out the building got him a panicked look from the hotel clerk. He stopped long enough to show his badge and to warn the clerk to stay low and safe if trouble came her way. Then he was sprinting up four flights of stairs, his only mental image that of Leah like he'd last seen her with that smart ass smile that twisted him up inside. Picturing her any other way could fuck up his ability to get the job done.

  Still breathing steady he walked through the stairwell door and out into the carpeted hallway that would muffle his steps as he approached the door for room four eighteen.

  He fished out the reverse scope from his gear bag and lined it up on the door's peephole. All he saw was black. Not a solid black as if someone had taped over the peephole but some serious darkness. Willing himself not to jump the gun and pick the door lock before he knew the situation, he stared through the scope trying to pick out any variations in lighting. Just as he was about to give up and pop the door lock, a soft beam of light appeared, drawing his attention. The light silhouetted a man with a medium build but that wasn't what made his blood freeze in his veins. It was the unmistakable splatter of gray matter on the wall of a kitchenette and Leah Duct taped to a chair.

  On the inhale he tapped out the target-located signal for the deputies in the mobile command unit and on the exhale the heel of his boot was slamming into the door near the lock, sending it flying open.

  Leah

  As soon as the light went on and the sound of Warren walking down the short hall reached Leah, a calmness settled through her. She'd worked it out already. Controlling her, grabbing the diamond, and getting away was a helluva lot harder as a one-man band then if Warren had still had his toady, Curtis. There was no way he'd take her to the exchange. More than likely he'd give some story about her being at a secondary location. Maybe she would be, she just wouldn't be there and breathing.

  Despite her attempts to escape, she was still bound to the chair. There hadn't been enough time.

  She raised her chin and let her face go blank. If she was going out, it wasn't going to be while begging. Instead, she'd hold on to the one thing that had gotten her this far, the realization that she hadn't ever really come back to Catfish Creek just to see the now-bedraggled cheerleaders or for the reunion at all. She'd come for Drew. And she'd gotten to be with him one last time. That was ending things on a high note.

  "Oh the stench is killing me," Warren said, stopping a few feet away from Curtis's body. "I'm afraid we need to expedite our timeline."

  Before she could even think of a smart remark to serve as her final words, the door flew open and crashed against the wall.

  "Hands where I can see them," Drew shouted.

  Dressed in all black with his face grim and his gun drawn, he looked every bit like an avenging demon bent on destruction.

  "There's no reason for such viole—” Warren said, one hand up and the other sneaking around his back.

  She screamed through the Duct tape covering her mouth, trying to warn him.

  "Move that hand any way but skyward and I'm gonna blow your head off," Drew said, sounding every bit like a man who'd welcome
the opportunity to pull the trigger.

  Warren hesitated, his gaze jumping from Drew in the door to the windows and back again, then slowly raised his other hand. Drew didn't even look her way as he marched across the bloodied kitchenette and took the gun from where Warren had tucked it in his waistband.

  "Down on the ground, fingers interlocked behind your head."

  Warren did what he was told. Drew shoved a foot down between Warren's shoulder blades and only then did Drew glance up at her. The furious darkness in his eyes made her breath catch.

  "Are you okay?" he asked, the muscle in his jaw twitching.

  Unable to talk or run to him, she nodded. He'd come for her. How in the hell he'd found her, she had no idea, but he had. Relief seeped through her as she looked at the man she loved, wishing like hell she could just tell him.

  A heartbeat later though and it was chaos in the cramped kitchenette as deputies, paramedics, and her brother swarmed inside. Before she could say anything to Drew, Isaac herded her outside and to the waiting ambulance.

  The entire time the paramedic poked, prodded and shined a light in her eyes, Leah kept an eye out for Drew, but he never appeared.

  "Ma'am, we're gonna need to take you in so the docs can check you out."

  She shook her head, trying her best to force the throb in her head from Curtis's knock out punch to stop. "I'll go later, I want to talk to Drew."

  Isaac crossed his arms and stepped directly into her line of sight until his broad chest was all she could see. "You'll go now nicely, or I'll haul your ass there kicking and screaming."

  Isaac was usually the most easy-going of the Camachos, right up until he wasn't anymore. That was probably what happened when you grew up with five strong-willed sisters and a single mom who ruled with an iron fist. Isaac bent, but he never, ever broke—and, judging by the stubborn look on his face, he wasn't giving in this time.

  "Can you let him know where I'm going?" she asked.