Dark Nights Dangerous Men

by Elisabeth Naughton, Cynthia Eden, Katie Reus, Alexandra Ivy, Laura Wright, Joan Swan

  “Are you worried about tonight?” Her quiet voice echoed through the vehicle’s interior and he found her staring intently at him, her brown eyes wide. She wore her emotions so vividly, it pained him to see the worry in her gaze.

  Hell yeah. “No. Security will be tight and we’re not going to stay that long. Just long enough to make an appearance, do some toasts and then I’m getting you out of there.” He’d expected an argument but when she simply nodded he realized how scared she must be.

  Not that it was surprising, but after Grant had stopped by so she could look at mug shots—a fruitless exercise—she’d holed up in his guestroom the past couple hours working on her laptop. She’d been so wrapped up in her work he’d had to remind her when it was time to get ready for the party. At her parent’s house they’d briefly argued about her keeping her brother’s letter a secret from him, but he hadn’t had the heart to push her too much. Tomorrow morning they planned to go to Porter’s bank to see if it was the right bank for the safe deposit key. The ‘M’ engraved onto it was a very distinctive symbol for one of the biggest banks in Miami. Since he had a key almost identical to the one Benny had left, it was the best starting point.

  If her brother had been smart, he’d have put her name on the account but until they got there they wouldn’t know. Whatever was inside that box—if anything—had better redeem Benny or Porter was ready to hurt the guy himself. Well, after Orlando Salas.

  With Elizabeth so subdued and not even mustering enough attitude to argue with him—he found he missed her feistiness more than he’d ever admit to her.

  “I hate that I’ve dragged you into this mess,” she said quietly.

  Frowning, he pulled through the intersection. None of this was her fault. “You didn’t do anything—”

  The sound of screeching tires alerted him a split second before a Bronco clipped the front of his vehicle, sending them into a tailspin. His neck and shoulders tensed as he gripped the steering wheel for control. “Just perfect,” he muttered under his breath as he started to straighten them out.

  While he slowed and righted the SUV, sudden sharp bursts of gunfire hailed around them. It sounded like hail crashing down as rounds sprayed the bullet resistant windows. The fist around his heart tightened as reality crashed over him. They were under a full attack.

  Elizabeth screamed and ducked down in her seat, sending the contents of her clutch purse scattering everywhere.

  “Hang on,” he muttered, willing himself to stay calm. If the SUV wasn’t armored, he’d be more worried.

  Gripping the wheel, he managed to keep moving forward and stay focused on their surroundings. Getting boxed in right now was not an option. Cars and trucks honked from all directions. Even though they had a security team following them he wasn’t worried about staying with them. His only priority was getting Elizabeth out of there.

  He floored the gas pedal and shot through a red light. Elizabeth was gripping the door handle with one hand and the center console with the other as she crouched lower, but she was otherwise unharmed.

  “Can you reach your cell phone?” he asked, his heart in his throat. Elizabeth should never have been placed in a situation like this and he hated the fear he saw on her face.

  She bent down to where it had fallen to the floor and grabbed it. “Who do you want me to call?”

  “No one. Take out your SIM card and battery.”

  She looked confused but popped the back of the phone off. He glanced in the rearview mirror again. He doubted anyone had planted a tracking device on his vehicle or even her phone but he didn’t have time to check. And he wasn’t taking any chances. She’d been at Orlando’s house long enough for one of his men to have planted something on her so he’d rather be paranoid than dead.

  When she’d done as he asked, he rolled down her window a scant few inches. “Keep the SIM card, throw out everything else.”

  She hesitated for a millisecond, but did as he asked.

  He took an abrupt turn, earning a quick yelp from Elizabeth. At least she wasn’t the crying, screaming type. Thank God. He couldn’t handle that right now and it would just be harder on her if she lost control. So far she seemed to be handling things okay but after the day she’d had, he just hoped she wasn’t going into shock.

  “Where are we going?” Her quiet voice tugged at his heart, making him want to head to Orlando’s and put the guy out of his misery.

  “I’ll keep you safe. I promise.” It was all he could offer. Right now he wasn’t sure where he was taking her. Red Stone had a few safe houses located around Miami for emergency situations but he wasn’t going to take her to any of them on the chance that Orlando knew about them. It was unlikely, but with Elizabeth’s life at stake, there was no room for error.

  He steered them down a few side-streets and deeper into the heart of Miami. Bright blue, green and various tropical colored houses flew by them. As he took another turn, his death grip on the steering wheel lessened. There wasn’t anyone following them that he could see. Even his security team wasn’t visible. One of the guys had tried radioing him but he’d snapped it off. It wasn’t far-fetched that one of Orlando’s men could be listening in on the right frequency.

  Porter slowed and turned down a dead end street. It was lined with old, one-story Florida homes that displayed awnings and jalousie windows. Everything was so damn quiet and peaceful it was hard to believe they’d just been under fire minutes before.

  “What are we going to do?” Elizabeth’s voice shook.

  “We’ve got to ditch this vehicle,” he said as he kicked the SUV into park. It was the best answer he could give her.

  She wrapped her arms around herself tightly. “Okay.”

  More than anything he wanted to lean over and comfort her, promise her everything would be all right—but now wasn’t the time. He glanced in his rearview mirror before he bent to grab an extra gun he kept stowed under the driver’s seat, but he froze. An SUV—not the Bronco that had clipped them—slowed then parked a few houses back. He twisted around in his seat. A man emerged from a vehicle carrying what looked like—his heart stopped.

  Was that a hand rocket?

  For a split second, Porter thought he was seeing things. He was in Miami, not a warzone. Without pause, he grabbed the gun then unstrapped Elizabeth’s seat belt and grasped her slim arm.

  “What are you doing?” she shrieked and struggled against his unforgiving hold.

  He knew her instinct to fight was kicking in because he was manhandling her. Instead of answering, he opened his door and forcibly dragged her across the console. Luckily she didn’t weigh much. “Run!” he shouted.

  As they tumbled on to the sidewalk, he hauled her to her feet and shoved her toward one of the houses. Blood rushed loudly in his ears as he tried to get her to safety. He risked a glance over his shoulder. The guy had the weapon aimed, was about to fire. Porter wrapped his arms around her waist and tackled her to the grassy surface, using his body to protect hers.

  A hissing sound streaked through the air then the SUV lifted a few feet off the ground, landing with a sickening boom. A ball of smoke and flames engulfed the vehicle and climbed into the night sky as parts and pieces flew in every direction, landing with loud thuds. The heat licked at his back, but adrenaline coursed through him.

  Stay alive. Keep Elizabeth alive.

  His thought process was simple.

  Pinned beneath him on her back, Elizabeth’s dark eyes widened as she gaped at him. He quickly tugged her to her feet. Now she definitely wasn’t fighting him. She kicked off her high heels and they ran full force across one of the front yards. Once they rounded the one-story house, Porter jumped the chain link fence into a bordering backyard, then lifted her under her arms and slung her over. Now was no time to be gentle.

  They needed to put distance between them and the man who’d just tried to blow them up with a hand rocket. Porter hadn’t gotten a good look at it, but it had looked like an AT4 or an RPG. Either way, they
were in a very bad situation. Aim didn’t have to be exact with a hand rocket. As long as someone could hit in the general vicinity of their target, damage was guaranteed.

  This just brought up a whole new mess of questions. Why would Orlando Salas send someone to come after Elizabeth with an RPG in the middle of Miami? Granted, Porter knew Orlando had connections to arms dealers—he did sell drugs after all—but this attack screamed desperation. Porter guessed it had something to do with whatever was in that safe deposit box. Which meant getting to it before anyone else was now paramount.

  “We’ve got to find another car,” he said so Elizabeth would know he had some semblance of a plan.

  “Yes.” She was panting next to him, but she kept up as they ran across the backyard.

  Rounding the corner of another one story house, he motioned to Lizzy to keep her back against the wall. She complied without comment.

  Hugging the wall, they inched along the side of the house. The fence didn’t extend all the way around the yard so once they had visibility of the front yard and part of the neighborhood, Porter pulled out his gun. He hated doing this, but it was the only way to stay alive.

  He turned to Elizabeth. “I need you to be my lookout. If you hear or see anything suspicious, run and don’t look back. Then find a pay phone and call Harrison or Grant.”

  She grabbed his arm, fingers curling into his flesh. “What are you going to do?”

  “I’m finding us a car.”

  “Okay.” Her voice wobbled, but she crouched down against the corner of the wall.

  Keeping his gun low, he stepped out from their hiding place and visually scanned the rest of the neighborhood.

  Two houses down, he spotted an old Volkswagen Beetle. Easy to hotwire. He motioned to Lizzy to follow him. Hotwiring was a skill he’d picked up as a teenager. Not something he’d ever been proud of, but now he was damn thankful for the ability. In less than thirty seconds, he’d hotwired the white car and they were heading deeper into the heart of Miami.

  * * * * *

  Lizzy’s heart pounded wildly in her chest as she sank down onto the closed toilet seat of the cheap motel room Porter had checked them into—after paying with cash. Her legs trembled and she could barely stand as it was. She couldn’t believe what had just happened. Terrified didn’t even begin to cover what she was feeling.

  Someone had blown up Porter’s SUV with a freaking rocket launcher or something. And they could have been in it when it happened. If it hadn’t been for Porter dragging her out of it she’d be dead. Another shudder snaked through her.

  Porter was on the phone with Harrison in the adjoining bedroom letting him know they wouldn’t be coming to the engagement party tonight so she’d taken the chance to escape for some privacy. No need to let Porter see what a mess she was. This whole situation was her fault. Or, more specifically, her brother’s fault. She might want to keep him out of trouble but whatever Benny had gotten himself into was big and really bad. She didn’t want to think the worst of him, but other people she cared about had almost been killed because of their involvement with her. First her best friend, and now Porter. Not to mention innocent bystanders.

  She attempted to take a deep breath but her lungs felt too small. Her entire body shook and it was taking what little grasp on self-control she had left not to break down into a puddle of tears.

  Porter was so efficient and was handling everything so she didn’t want to appear weak, especially when this was her mess. Not his. If not for her he’d never have gotten dragged into this. Still…hot tears burned her eyes and began to spill over, carving a hot path down her cheeks.

  Crap.

  She couldn’t cry. Not now. If she started, she’d never stop. Her tears, however, didn’t listen to her command. To her horror, more pooled in her eyes and they just kept flowing.

  A soft knock on the bathroom door jerked her head in that direction.

  “Lizzy?” Porter called softly.

  He was using her nickname. Just great. She couldn’t handle gentleness right now. If he was aloof maybe it would snap her out of this pseudo-breakdown.

  “Lizzy?” He said her name again, this time louder and there was no mistaking the concern in that deep voice.

  She opened her mouth but only a squeak came out. Mortification welled up inside her. She cleared her throat and tried again. “I’m fine,” she rasped out, ignoring how watery and pathetic she sounded.

  When he didn’t respond she figured he’d give her some space. Leaning forward, she spread her knees and put her head between them. Somehow she had to get control. As she took a deep breath, the bathroom door swung open.

  Porter stood in the doorway, his jacket off, his tie loosened and concern on every inch of his face. He swore softly and before she could react he was kneeling in front of her. “Are you all right?”

  How could he be so calm? They’d almost been killed. “I’m fine. Sorry you have to see me like this.” She batted away some of her tears and for the moment they abated.

  Frowning, he cupped her face with one hand and gently wiped her cheek with the pad of his thumb. “You don’t have anything to apologize for,” he murmured.

  The feel of his callused hand on her skin quickly dried the rest of her tears. In a split second her emotions jumped from still-terrified to turned-on and getting hotter. Good Lord, what was wrong with her?

  As she blinked away the blurriness her leftover tears caused, the heat in Porter’s blue eyes seemed to glow in the small, dimly lit room. “Don’t I?” The question came out as a whisper.

  He growled something low in his throat. She couldn’t understand what he said—if he’d said anything at all.

  Still staring at her, he slid his hand back farther until he cupped her head. His grip was dominating but not too tight. Her lips parted as she gazed at him. Anything that happened between them now would likely be a mistake. It was so hard to care though when she craved a release. Anything to take off the edge of the fear crawling around inside her like angry spiders.

  Porter was everything she needed and wanted.

  Strength.

  Stability.

  Pure, masculine power.

  Lord, the power that emanated from him was enthralling. A shiver rolled over her that had nothing to do with the temperature of the room and everything to do with the man in front of her.

  He swallowed once, hard, as he stared at her. “You kill all my good intentions.” His voice sounded as unsteady as her quaking insides felt.

  “Right back at ya,” she murmured.

  Porter wanted to kiss her. She could see it in his eyes. He was definitely contemplating it but he was also torn. Probably held some honorable thought that right now she was vulnerable and he didn’t want to capitalize on it.

  That honor was one of the things that had originally drawn her to him. But it didn’t change the fact that she would never stop loving her brother and Porter would never understand the bond she and Benny had. It would always lie between them and she couldn’t let herself fall for a man when she knew she’d always feel guilty for running to help her brother. It would create resentment for both of them.

  Instead of doing the one thing she desperately wanted—throwing her arms around Porter’s neck and kissing him until they were both breathless and stripping their clothes off in a mad frenzy—she cleared her throat and averted her gaze from his spell binding one.

  The moment she did, Porter dropped his hand.

  A sigh of relief she hadn’t realized she was holding escaped loud enough for him to hear. Guilt jumped inside her at the almost hurt look he gave her but it was gone so fast she wondered if she’d imagined it.

  As he stood, she did too. At least she now had a lid snapped shut on her emotions. Instead of looking in the mirror and seeing what a mess she had to be, she followed him to the other room and perched on the edge of the queen sized bed. “So what’s going on?”

  “I spoke to Harrison and Grant.” Instead of joining her on the bed he p
aced at the end of it, looking like an animal trapped in a cage. He hated being trapped here, feeling useless. She understood because she felt the same way.

  “And?”

  “Harrison definitely understands why we won’t be at the party tonight but he wants us to go to one of Red Stone’s safe houses.”

  But Porter didn’t. He’d already told her as much and she agreed with his reasoning. On the off chance Orlando had somehow found a mole within Red Stone and knew about the locations of their safe houses around the city, Lizzy had no problem hunkering down in a pay-by-the-hour motel. As crappy as the place was, discomfort was an easy trade-off for staying alive. “What about Grant?”

  “He’s ah…not happy with me. He had already heard about the blown up SUV before I called—didn’t know it was one of Red Stone’s of course, but it’s not every day something like this happens in Miami. He wants to bring us in to make a statement and put us both under protective custody.”

  Lizzy tensed at his words. If they were in custody she couldn’t check out what that key opened up. And more importantly, she couldn’t protect her brother. He’d obviously gotten in over his head and she didn’t want to be somewhere with no way to help him. “I’m not—”

  “We’re not going anywhere. The plan is still the same. Tomorrow we go to the bank—hopefully it’s even the right one—and see if you have authorization to that safe deposit box. He might not like it, but Grant isn’t going to tell anyone we were driving that SUV.”

  She inwardly sighed in relief. Porter obviously had a different reason for not wanting to go into custody and it had nothing to do with keeping her brother out of trouble. Whatever Porter’s reasons were, she didn’t care as long as they were both on the same page. “Then what?”

  “That depends on what’s in the box.”

  Wasn’t that the truth? So much depended on what her brother had left for her. If only she could get hold of him. But of course he’d disappeared again. She stifled a yawn and looked at the bed she sat on.