“There are so many stars out tonight,” Talia observed as they stepped out onto the deck and Tucker closed the door behind them.
Claiming a lounge chair, Tucker sat then reached for her, ushering her down into his lap. He could tell himself that he did it just because he wanted to keep her close in case something popped off unexpectedly and being beside him was the safest place to be at the moment, but he’d be lying. The truth was, it just felt good to hold her. He enjoyed having her close, feeling her body heat against him. It helped him relax, quiet his mind.
“Did I tell you that when I was a kid, my dad taught me the constellations?”
“You haven’t told me much of anything about yourself, so no.”
Her quiet comment hit him deep, and Tucker felt like a bit of an ass for having kept her at such a distance. Clearly, it meant more to her than he’d realized. Cinching his arms around her a little tighter, he propped his chin on the crown of her head, the flowery scent of her shampoo tickling his nose.
“See those three stars up there, all lined up?” he asked, extending his arm and pointing at the night sky. “That’s Orion’s belt.”
She snorted. “I think everyone knows that one.”
With a rueful smile, he pointed at another set of stars, outlining their shape with his finger. “See the four bright ones over there?”
She tilted her head, examining the sky. “Mmm, I think so.”
“That’s Hercules. And those stars under it, the ones that look like a ladle, form Ursa Minor. What’s your sign, sugar?”
“Libra.”
He searched the sky. “There, the one that kind of looks like a kite. That’s you.”
She smiled. “Where’s yours?”
“I’m Aquarius, on the other side of Hercules.”
Lifting her hands up, Talia held onto Tucker’s forearm, which he’d wrapped around her, holding her shoulders and giving her a place to rest her chin. “I used to follow my horoscope back in college,” she said softly. “Did you know Aquarius and Libra are perfectly matched? They’re supposed to balance each other.”
Warmth developed in the center of Tucker’s chest and crept outward like tiny fingers. “Guess it’s a good thing I gave you a shot then. Owe!” She’d pinched him with her fingernails then rubbed the sting away. The act was sweet enough that he wasn’t even mad. Tucker kissed her temple and settled in.
THIRTY-ONE
“You two get inside, now.”
Talia jolted awake at the urgency in the man’s voice. Tucker was already moving her, pushing her to stand as he did. Still shaking off the remnants of sleep, Talia looked up to see Repo standing with his body halfway out the back door. The expression he wore gave nothing away, but his voice…That was a different story.
“What’s going on?” Tucker demanded. Without a second thought, he reached for her hand and dragged her along with him back into the house.
“Got a bead on Cruiz. Blake doesn’t want to wait around for them to find us.”
“Wait, a bead from where?”
“One of the prospects got a tip from one of the bunnies. Said she’s been fuckin’ a guy that hangs around the bars who claims he has an in and likes to run his mouth.”
Tucker grunted, not looking at all convinced. “We have time to chase it down?”
“Nope.”
“What does that mean for you?” Talia asked. As they reached the living room, Repo stepped out of the way, giving Talia her fist uninterrupted view of the rest of the house. All the men had gathered around the coffee table. On it was a pile of guns and ammunition. Enough to start a war, and that was exactly what they appeared to be getting ready to do.
“We’re taking the fight to them,” Tucker said gravely.
Releasing her hand, Tucker left Talia to join his brothers. They each chose a weapon, then loaded it up, checking clips and chambering rounds. A sick feeling settled in Talia’s stomach. She should report this. She needed to report this. But she couldn’t bring herself to rat him out. Her feet felt glued to the floor. She should have said something to Frank earlier when she’d spotted him hanging around the fringes of the Spartan compound. It’d have been a huge risk, and she didn’t know what she could have said, but something had to be better than nothing, right? But he was somewhere close by, she hoped, so it wasn’t too late. Maybe she could get word to him—
“It’s terrifying, isn’t it.” Gabby suddenly stood beside her, arms wrapped around herself as if warding off a chill. The evening was warm, balmy even, but Talia knew the feeling.
“I keep pinching myself, hoping I’ll wake up and find that this has all be one big, fucked up dream,” Gabby continued. “It’s my fault this is happening. Blake says it isn’t, but we both know it is. I brought Ricky Cruiz into our lives.”
“Who is this Ricky Cruiz?” Talia questioned. Up until now, no one had bothered to tell her a thing, but Gabby was so distraught, Talia could sense she was a fount of information just waiting to be tapped.
Haunted eyes found hers. “He’s a monster. Gave me these,” she said, tugging down the collar of her shirt to reveal angry red slashes, some flat, some puckered in places. They were healed, but Talia recognized they were fresh. She withheld a gasp, years of training helping her bury the emotions whirling inside of her.
“He tortured you?” she asked, appalled.
Gabby made a wounded sound, almost like she was choking. “I got off easy. Being on the wrong side of his blade was nothing compared to what could have happened to me. It was a mercy compared to what all those other women must be going through.”
Every hair on Talia’s body stood on end. Turning bodily to face her, Talia felt as if she were standing on a cliff’s edge, the information she’d been seeking so close she could practically feel it on her fingertips. “What women, Gabby? Gabby? What women,” she repeated, almost frantic when she didn’t answer fast enough.
Gabby’s gaze remained focused on the activity going on in front of them. “He takes them, sells them. I’m not sure what happens to them from there, but it can’t be good.”
“You’re talking about human trafficking?” Talia questioned, needing to be absolutely certain she was getting this right. She couldn’t afford to make any mistakes.
Gabby’s expression grim, she nodded. Further words weren’t required. They both understood the gravity of the situation. Those poor women.
Swallowing tightly, Talia watched the men gear up. Efficient, lethal, it was clear they knew what they were doing. Especially Tucker. His expression stark, he looked ready for anything. She feared for all of them.
This was two biker clubs going toe-to-toe with lethal weapons. Both sides were out for blood. This wasn’t play yard fun. This was a gang war. She’d seen the kinds of brutality gangs could inflict on not only a community but each other.
If the Spartans were going up against this Cruiz character and his gang, there was going to be bloodshed. There would be casualties. From both sides.
A giant, gaping pit opened up in Talia’s stomach as she continued watching Tucker prepare himself.
He could die. If he left tonight, he might not come back.
She couldn’t allow that to happen. She wouldn’t be able to live with herself if she stood by and watched them leave.
Without a second thought, Talia crossed the room and inserted herself into the middle of the group, much to their chagrin. She didn’t care. She’d do what she had to do, to hell with their rules. She was used to playing alongside the big boys. Now, they were going to have to get used to playing alongside her.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Tucker spoke up when she selected a Glock and a clip and punched them together. His brothers got busy tucking their own weapons into the back of their pants and into holsters located on their shoulders and ankles. If she didn’t already know they were bikers, she’d have thought them professionals, FBI even, they were that accustomed.
“I’m coming with you,” she informed him, careful to keep her
tone level, controlled.
Didn’t matter. Tucker wasn’t hearing any of it. Taking the gun away from her, he tucked it into one of the holsters under his arm. “No, you’re not, sugar.”
Talia fixed him with a look that she used often on men in the department who made the mistake of thinking less of her just because she wasn’t packing the right parts between her legs. “If you give me that ‘stay put’ bullshit, I will personally introduce your balls to my foot. I’m coming.”
The bastard actually laughed. His brothers followed right along, showing their solidarity. “I appreciate you wanting to help, but no way are you going. This isn’t a fight for women.”
And that’s where he’d be wrong. “Don’t play the man card,” she warned him. “I am more capable than you know. Probably more than all of you combined.” Her finger circled the room, not including Tucker, because she knew with his background he could more than handle himself.
“Yeah?” he challenged. “How much do you know about guns? Besides knowing where the bullets go?” he added when she pointed to the table to remind him what she’d just done.
She smirked. How cute. The man actually wanted to pull rank, as if he somehow outranked her because of his history in the military. “Like I said, more than you know.”
He gave her a placating smile that lit the fire of a thousand suns beneath her, but she was powerless to fight against it. “Guess I’ll just have to take your word for it.” Grabbing her hips, Tucker pecked her lips and stepped away so fast she didn’t have time to gut-punch him. Dammit. “You’re staying here. That’s final.”
Talia grit her teeth, her fists balling in preparation for what, she didn’t know, but she was furious. Tucker turned away to finish getting ready, and Talia, not thinking straight, stepped forward. She was fairly certain she was going to do something drastic when Blake stepped up, his stern voice stopping her.
“Actually, you’re both staying behind.”
Pausing, Tucker glanced over his shoulder, a disbelieving smile already in place. “What was that, Prez?”
“I said I want you here. The rest of us can do this without you.”
“Excuse me?” Dropping a magazine belonging to the .45 tucked under his right arm, Tucker turned around and leveled Blake with a hard stare that was definitely meant to intimidate. “I must need to clean my ears because I could have sworn you just grounded me.”
At least Blake looked apologetic about it. Not that it helped smooth over his delivery any. “I did.”
“What the actual fuck. You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Not even a little bit, bro.”
“Man, you know I’m the biggest asset you’ve got. You sidelinin’ me isn’t smart, and you know it.”
Watching the exchange closely, Talia bit her tongue. This wasn’t her fight.
“Maybe not, but I need you here. When it comes to keeping my family safe, you’re the best choice. If it means we lose out there,” he pointed toward the exterior wall, “then so be it. Gabby and my kids are my priority.”
Whatever argument Tucker had been preparing to issue, died before it left it lips. Even Talia was at a loss for words. Part of her wanted to be childish and point and laugh at the justice that had just been dealt—that’ll teach ya to tell me to stay home!—but the gravity of the situation didn’t allow for it. Instead, she’d have to celebrate the personal victory internally.
Tucker’s jaw clenched, and so did his fists as he digested this information. Having a boss to answer to herself, she understood the frustration, the feeling of impotence when all you wanted to do was get out there and do the job you’d been trained for. She felt for him, she really did. He was a soldier without a target, a man watching his friends go off to “war” as he’d called it and leaving him behind.
It had to be tough, but secretly, she was glad he was staying behind with her. It might be selfish, and it might even be unfounded, but she wanted to keep him close, protected. Knowing for certain that Tucker and the rest of the Spartans weren’t to blame for the missing women, she was doubly determined to make sure that the night went in their favor. With that in mind, she knew what had to be done.
Clearing her throat, Talia excused herself from the room and hid in the bathroom. Taking the cell phone she kept tucked in her pocket at all times, she pushed the preprogrammed button and waited for the call to connect. When it did, she said, “It’s me. I’ve got some information you’re going to want to hear.”
***
All was not hunky-dory in the Mahone household. Once the other men rode out, leaving Talia and the rest of them to hold down the fort, Tucker withdrew into himself. He wasn’t disconnected, at least not from his duties, but he hadn’t spoken a single word to her.
She couldn’t shake the feeling that he was somehow blaming her for being forced to stay behind. Even though it irritated her, she refused to let it go beyond that. As far as she was concerned, Blake had done her a favor. Now, not only did she know for certain that Tucker wasn’t the bad guy, but she was also afforded the opportunity to keep a watchful eye on him.
While she might be a strong and independent woman, Talia was also a woman who wanted the people she cared about close by her side. Right now, only one person fit that bill, and he was standing with his back to her, planted in front of the large window that overlooked the front lawn, peeking through a split in the curtains.
Deep into a game of solitaire, Talia let him be. The last thing she wanted to do was break his concentration or get heavy into talks when they needed to remain focused on the possibility of trouble finding them.
After all, she had made that call earlier. If her calculations were correct, and her intel was followed, the so-called war should be over before it began. She wasn’t sure where that put the Spartans, whether they’d be pulled for questioning or not. What she did know was that, regardless of how it went down tonight, there would be no blood shed. That was her one and only concern. Everything else, the possible problem building between her and Tucker, his anger over the situation, could be dealt with later.
“And…I win again,” Talia said aloud, mostly to herself, although she pretended that Tucker was listening, if only for the sake of having someone to talk to. The silence was deafening.
Gabby had gone off to bed more than an hour ago, although, considering how distraught she’d been at the time, Talia doubted highly that she’d actually gone to sleep.
The woman was so high-strung, she’d bet she was back there pacing the floors. If put in her shoes, Talia knew she’d be doing the same. No woman with a heart would be able to rest easy knowing the man they loved was out risking life and limb until they could see for themselves that they were okay.
And then there was little Ash. The kid was a champ. He’d barely made a peep throughout the whole ordeal. Blake had simply told him goodnight and given him a kiss on the forehead, then said “Off to bed with ya. See you in the morning.” Ash replied with an, “I’ll tell the angels to keep you safe tonight,” and then he’d bounced off.
Talia had watched and wondered at the dynamics of such a family, but then she wasn’t an insider. She was keenly aware that her time there was merely surface and limited. She hadn’t had the chance to get to the meat of it all, and she never would.
It struck her then, as she stared off down the darkened hallway, that she was going to miss the little life she’d been building. Even if it was a false one. That didn’t make it any less real to her, though. She’d made a friend in Gabby. She’d enjoyed her interactions with Ash and his father. The family dinner had been refreshingly normal. And don’t even get her started on Tucker.
She couldn’t even look at him without wondering what her life would look like once she was through here. Stark, she imagined, just like it always was. Normal. Routine. She’d push some paperwork for a couple weeks, get assigned to another case, maybe infiltrate some group somewhere, and start all over again. But it wouldn’t be the same. She wouldn’t feel the same about the pe
ople she’d get to know as she did with the merry band of Spartans. They weren’t the usual backbiting bunch of sharks that would eat their own young if they thought their throne was in danger that she was used to. They were family. Functional in their dysfunction, caring, loving…family.
That was one thing Talia missed most about moving away from home. Not that her parents were anything to write home about. They had their flaws. They were more wrapped up in each other than in her—their only daughter. They’d always been that way, as far back as she could remember. They loved each other fiercely, almost as much as they loved their wealth. She and her brothers were just a novelty, people they could throw on the front of a Christmas card to send to all their friends and coworkers. While they did love their children, there was a kind of disconnect there, one that made it easy for Talia to break away from and not feel as if she’d abandoned them. In reality, she had always been the one who felt abandoned.
Maybe that’s why she chose to marry Brock. Now, she could look back and see the signs her younger self had been blind to for what they were: controlling, jealousy, lies. Brock had presented all those things and more, typical of an abuser who used their words in place of their fists.
The sad thing was, she’d allowed him to get inside her head, make her feel as if she was doing something wrong. She’d worked hard to please him, doing anything and everything to make sure his needs were met, even at the expense of her own happiness.
By some miracle, however, Talia had never allowed him to browbeat her into leaving her job. Some part of her, buried deep down, must have known that if she did that, she would lose the last tie to her identity she had left, and that just wasn’t acceptable. Before the ink had dried on the divorce papers, Talia found out about the need for an agent out west, and she’d volunteered without a second thought.
It was the perfect way to kill two birds with one stone: put some distance between her and Brock, and start her life fresh.
Mettle: (Spartan Riders #2) Page 23