Wild & Sweet (The Haven Brotherhood)

by Rhenna Morgan

  She slid the key home, twisted the dead bolt and leaned her hip into the door to open it. A slow vibration registered through her purse, her ringtone muted by the overflowing contents inside. The next time she went shopping she was definitely downsizing. Hobo bags were just too convenient for carting around way too much unnecessary stuff.

  Digging toward the bottom, she rummaged through the latest shop magazines she’d tucked inside and her billfold, her keys jingling between her fingers—and froze.

  The alarm wasn’t beeping. Wasn’t it supposed to beep when she came in? She flipped the little cover for the keypad and groaned. “Yeah, it’s supposed to beep, but only if you arm the damned system, Gabe.”

  The phone stopped ringing and her shoulders sagged. Great. Not only was she clumsy and forgetful, but she was talking to herself in the dark.

  “I’m not going to complain.”

  A man’s voice. Deep and one she didn’t recognize. She jolted toward the door, instincts pushing her for escape.

  A hand clamped around her wrist and yanked her back against a hard, muscular chest. Another hand wrapped around her throat. “A nice system like that’s a shame to waste. Appreciate you making my job easy, though.” The man squeezed her neck enough to make it clear how vulnerable she was. “Don’t even think about screaming. You do and this will go worse than it needs to. Got it?”

  She nodded, her frantic agreement as jerky as her heart. Over and over, she blinked, trying to focus on the soft green light glowing from the alarm’s keypad. She palmed her keys, careful to silence their jingle against her sweaty palms. “What job?” Though after what Zeke had shared this afternoon, she had a feeling she knew.

  “Just cleaning up some loose ends.” He maneuvered her to the couch and shoved her forward, yanking her purse away in the process and tossing it well out of reach. A second later the lamp came on, painting her living room and her captor in a soft white glow. He yanked the curtains closed, his dark jeans and black hoodie only accenting how big he was.

  He turned and her lungs seized. No way could she mistake those eyes, the vibrant green unusually bold and impossible to forget. “You’re the guy from Mrs. Wallaby’s.”

  “Like I said, loose ends.” He unzipped the hoody and pulled a gun from a harness inside.

  Shit.

  Her ringtone sounded again, the vibration that went with it rattling against the table leg her purse had come to rest on.

  He lifted the gun and ambled closer. “You so much as twitch toward that phone and you’ll be dead a lot sooner than I’d planned.”

  She swallowed. Or tried, for all the good it did with her parched mouth and throat. Was it Zeke? Danny? God, why hadn’t she listened to him? She should have called him as soon as she left April instead of driving around the lake. “I’d rather not be dead at all.”

  “Then you should have played nice.”

  The phone stopped ringing and a little piece of her died along with the silence. There had to be something she could do. Some way to buy her time. Maybe if she played dumb he’d trip up and give her a chance to run. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “You should’ve sold like your neighbors did. Would’ve saved the people who want your land the need to get creative. Though you being the victim of the break-in next door makes it a little easier for me to stage your downfall.” He grinned and a shiver rippled down her back. Pure evil burned behind his eyes, a complete disregard for anything decent. “Gotta say, casing your place the last few weeks gave me a lot to look forward to. That man of yours is gonna hate losing you on a regular basis.”

  A whimper ripped up her throat and she pulled her knees in toward her chest, her hands fisting close to her chest. Sweat trickled between her breasts and her breath came in short, choppy huffs. The metal of her keys bit into her palms so hard it was a wonder she didn’t bleed.

  Her keys.

  God, how could she have been so stupid? One of the bells and whistles Danny had added to the system was the panic fob on her key chain. If she could push it without the guy catching her, all she’d need to do was buy more time.

  The man stepped forward, motioning his gun toward the hallway. “Get up.”

  She shook her head and tucked the hand with the keys behind her back, holding the other hand palm up as if to ward him off. “Please don’t.”

  Behind her back, she shifted the keys, clumsily trying to find the plastic sensor with her sweat-slick fingers. “Just call the people you work for. I’ll sell. I won’t repeat anything you’ve told me.” The hard plastic slicked against her fingertips. She gripped it tight and punched the button hard, holding it in place and silently counting the three seconds she needed for the alert to reach dispatch.

  “Lady, you do not want to push me. The money I’m making on this deal is enough to tide me over for the rest of this year. Me enjoying that sweet body of yours is just a bonus. One I can easily walk away from. Now get up, or die there.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  One ring. Then another.

  “Hi, this is Gabe. You know what to do at the beep.”

  “Damn it.” Zeke punched the end button. “She’s not answering.”

  “If she ain’t answering, something’s wrong,” Danny said. Like the rest of the team, his words came sharp between heavy pants while the men stepped up their efforts to sweep the rest of the offices. “Swear to God, she carries that thing everywhere.”

  “Yeah, well, she was kind of pissed when I left.” As in off the charts, cut his nuts off while he was sleeping angry. “Not thinking I’m high on her answer list. I came clean on what we were doing tonight, and she kicked me out of the house.”

  Axel grumbled through the headset. “The lass has a funny way of showing appreciation for someone having her back.”

  “She was freaked. Cut her some slack,” Zeke volleyed back. Though why he felt compelled to stand up for her he couldn’t fathom. He’d thought pretty much the same thing more than once since he’d stormed out the front door.

  “I don’t like this,” Danny said.

  That made two of them. The longer Zeke contemplated all the possible scenarios, the harder it was for him to keep his car in park. “Beck, you still have a man there?”

  “Pulled ’em off after we installed the system. She’ll be fine as long as she’s inside and it’s active.”

  “Yeah, well, she’s not using it.”

  A whole string of surprised responses sounded through the line, but Danny’s was the strongest. “What?”

  “She’s trying,” Zeke said, “but I busted her this afternoon and a few times before that. She forgets.”

  “Hold up, let me check the system.” Knox’s lightning fast keyboard strikes clattered through the audio. “Negative. Nothing activated. Sensors show movement, though.”

  “I know the locks are thrown ’cause she threw the bolt hard behind me. Beck, how long to get a guy out there?”

  Jace cut in before Beckett could answer. “You two are closer. Go.”

  Trevor twisted in the seat beside Zeke. “Uh, in case you missed it, you’re still inside.”

  “Then Knox’ll have to up his game and get creative,” Axel drawled. “Trevor, stay with Zeke. Go.”

  It was all the incentive Zeke needed. In one smooth move he ripped his headpiece out of his ear, jammed the stick shift into first, and pealed out of his dark parking space.

  “Roger that,” Trevor said. “We’re out.” It wasn’t until Zeke hit the highway and shot straight to the HOV lane that he broached next steps. “You got a certain way you want to play this?”

  Yeah, he did. He’d like to show up, find out Gabe was just nursing a serious grudge, and then spank her sweet ass for real. That dark, sixth sense that had bailed him out of one too many scrapes and saved a whole lot of lives insisted he wasn’
t going to get that lucky. “This is not my forte, brother. I’m thinking you get that or I wouldn’t have been the one on pizza detail. Unless it’s a brawl, then I’m a contender.”

  “You bring the heat Beck gave you?”

  “I take bullets out of people. Not in a hurry to make more business for my peers than there already is. Besides, my aim is for shit.”

  Trevor shook his head and huffed out an ironic laugh. “Only fucking guy I know who goes into a sketchy situation with possible thugs involved and doesn’t carry a firearm.”

  Zeke glanced at his brother. Despite his cool exterior, Zeke was pretty sure Trev could strike as fast as a snake if he needed to. “You bring yours?”

  “Is the pope catholic? Of course, I’m armed.” He anchored his elbow on the door and rubbed the back of his hand against his chin. “What’s the layout of the place?”

  “Simple. Master on one end, living and kitchen in the middle, and two bedrooms on the other end.”

  “Alternate entrances?” Trev said.

  “Two. A sliding glass door that heads out to the patio and separate steel door that heads out of the utility room.”

  “Right, so if something looks fishy, one of us goes to the front door and the other tries the back.”

  “And if it’s locked?”

  The color display in the center console lit up before Trevor could answer, Knox’s name splashed across the top. Zeke hit the accept button. “What’s the status on the guys?”

  “Guys are great,” Knox said, albeit a little distracted sounding. “Wet but great.”

  Trevor cast Zeke a confused look. “Wet?”

  “Kicked off the fire alarms to get ’em out of the stairwell and that kicked off the sprinklers. What’s your ETA to Gabe?”

  Zeke gripped the steering wheel a little harder, the telltale prickle he’d learned to avoid at all costs ghosting down his spine. “Ten minutes. Maybe seven.”

  Silence echoed through the line for all of a heartbeat before Knox spoke. “Gabe punched the panic button on her key fob. I’ve got her system hard-wired so the alarm comes straight to me and Beck first. You want me to hit the cops on this, or hold off until you’re there?”

  Heat fired through him, merciless, unrelenting rage flooding his system with the need to seek and destroy. At that moment he wouldn’t need a gun to do murder. Whoever dared to set their hands on Gabe, he’d happily serve justice with his bare hands. “Bring ’em in quiet. I don’t give a shit who gets there first so long as someone gets there.”

  “I’m on it,” Knox said. “Anything else?”

  “Yeah.” Zeke floored the accelerator. “Patch Danny in. I need an alternate way into the house.”

  * * *

  Like hell she was dying tonight. Not here on the couch and sure not at the hands of this deranged bastard. Whatever happened, Gabe was not going down without a fight. “Why were you at Mrs. Wallaby’s? She wasn’t even in town.” It was a long shot as delay tactics went, but better than nothing.

  “And you weren’t supposed to be there either. All I needed was information the execs could use to squeeze her out, but then you showed and jacked the plan.”

  “And the fire?”

  The empty smile on his face sent cold railing through her already shivering body. “Yeah, I set it. Another reason my bosses want you out of play. If it weren’t for you and your family, we’d have a lot deeper inroads in this neighborhood already. Now, get your ass up.”

  Her mind scrambled, desperate for some other topic to stall him with. She huddled deeper into the couch, somehow sensing that the second she was on her feet, the faster time would tick past.

  “I said move it.” He clamped a hand around her upper arm and yanked her upright, semipropelling her across the living room.

  Gabe went with the motion, tucking her arms tight to her body as though she expected a blow and hiding her keys from view. Against his gun they wouldn’t help much, but it beat going at him with her bare fists.

  Headlights flashed behind the closed curtains and the roar of what she was sure was Zeke’s Camaro rumbled outside her house. A car door slammed and heavy footsteps jogged up the steps.

  “You gotta be shittin’ me.” Her captor grabbed her, the gun’s muzzle pressed uncomfortably hard against her back.

  Knock, knock, knock. “Hey, Gabe! You in there?” Knock, knock, knock.

  “Trevor.” Of all the people she’d expected to show up at her front door, he had to be on the tail end of the list. All she knew was she was damned glad someone was there. She glanced up at her captor. “He’s one of Zeke’s friends.”

  Before the man could say anything, the doorknob rattled and Trevor’s voice rang out again. “Jesus, Gabe, I hope you’re decent. Danny and Zeke sent me out to pick something up for them. I’ll just be in and out, okay?”

  In one harsh push, Gabe found herself smack dab in front of the door.

  The bad guy shifted behind the door, his gun trained through the door toward Trevor. “Get rid of him,” he growled. “You fuck this up, he’s dead.”

  The door opened before she could get her hand on the knob. “Hey.” She stared up at Trevor, her thoughts too jumbled to come up with anything. All she knew is if she moved so much as an inch backward, one of Zeke’s best friends wouldn’t be alive long.

  “Hey, Gabe. Sorry to barge in on you, but Zeke and Danny are working on a new hot rod and needed me to pick up some plans he said he left here.” He stepped forward. “Just give me a minute—”

  “No.” She splayed one hand on Trevor’s sternum and pushed back as much as her shaking arms would support. “I mean...” Shit, what did she mean? And how the hell had he opened the door? “Danny keeps all his designs out in the garage.” She opened her eyes as wide as they could go and tried to motion behind the door with a shift of her gaze.

  He held her gaze, the sharp intensity behind his blue eyes not at all a match to his light-hearted tone. “Cool.” He held out the keys he’d used to open the door. But that couldn’t be right. Those keys weren’t Danny’s. “Which one of his keys gets me in there?”

  She fumbled with the set, the jangling metal grating her frazzled nerves. There had to be something else she could do. Something else she could say.

  Trevor’s hand closed firmly over hers. “This one?”

  Something in his eyes gave her comfort, warning and bolstering her in one calming glance. “Yeah.” She cleared her throat. “That one. He keeps his plans over on his workbench.”

  “Okay, got it.” He squeezed her hand, a cold calculating message behind his stern face. “I’ll head over and get them. You lock up tight, all right?”

  Lock up. As in don’t lock up. And she was supposed to do that with a guy pointing a gun at her how?

  Trevor stepped back enough she could close the door, his gaze lasered onto hers. She closed the door with him still standing there, her heart thrashing as if she’d just closed herself in her own coffin. She leaned against the old wood, covering the lock with her torso as a sob ripped up her throat.

  “Smart girl.” Her tormentor gripped her arm and jerked her away, his hand reaching for the bolt.

  “You jerk!” She kicked out, her boot connecting with his forearm.

  Before she could catch her balance, he backhanded her across the cheek and wrapped her up in a choke hold. She fought with all she had, writhing inside his unforgiving grip.

  “Now I see why the doc dug in,” he grumbled as he wrestled her down the hallway to her room. “Got fire underneath all that innocent bullshit you throw out. Looking forward to gettin’ some of that myself.”

  “Fuck. You.” She kicked his shin, the heel of her boot making solid contact before she let herself go slack. The ploy worked. He lost his grip enough for her to slip free, turn and swipe her keys across his face. With n
owhere to go but the dead end of her bedrooms, she plowed past him toward the main room, throwing her shoulder into the move as she went.

  “Bitch.” His footsteps sounded behind her and his hand clamped onto her shoulder, spinning her around so fast her stomach lurched. Just as fast, another hand wrapped around her wrist and yanked her out of the hallway into the utility room.

  Zeke.

  It was a second at best. A shadowed, freeze-frame instant of time for her senses to process his scent and his touch, but it was enough. She spun into the motion, huddling into the cocoon of his body, immediately surrendering to his lead.

  A blast filled the small space, a violent white exploding against the darkness alongside it. Then another from somewhere farther away followed by a heavy crash.

  “Zeke?”

  He slumped against her, his weight more than she could hold and pulling her down to the ground.

  “Zeke!”

  The laundry room light flashed to full bright, blinding her for precious, disorientating seconds. Before she could blink her eyes into focus, a blurry figure tugged Zeke off of her and rolled him to his back.

  Sirens sounded in the distance, lots of them coming in fast.

  She scrambled to her knees and froze at the blood coating the linoleum floor.

  Trevor pressed his big hands to the wound blossoming at Zeke’s shoulder, his phone tucked between his ear and his shoulder. “Knox, get us an ambulance. Intruder’s neutralized, but Zeke’s down.”

  Chapter Thirty

  This was why Gabe hated hospitals. The fake lemony scent masquerading unpleasant odors. The sterile colors and uncomfortable chairs. The unnatural tension slithering up and down the hallways. The mere idea of a grim reaper had to have come from such a place, the ugly black cowl and scythe a visual representation of the terrorizing emotion wafting out of each room.

  She squeezed Zeke’s hand in hers and smoothed her other along his forearm, careful to avoid his IV. Milling around her, most of his brothers had gathered, Beckett and Knox the only two who hadn’t shown since they’d brought Zeke back from surgery. The rest had meandered in and out, some offering her coffee, others giving her space.