by Marie Harte
How the hell did they know about his date? He’d arranged it from work on a secure phone. Had they tapped Storm’s line, maybe? Shit. This didn’t look good.
Rafe laid the gun down on the hood of his car and stepped around it. From what he could tell, none of his opponents held a weapon. Between that and their orders to take him in unhurt, he might just be able to mow through these assholes and contact Storm right away.
He stopped a few feet from the blond. “Who’s your employer? Why didn’t he simply ask me to meet him?”
The man shook his head while the other four moved slowly to fan around them. “Our employer is a busy man. He’d rather we bring you to him.” The blond moved closer, almost within striking distance. “Let’s not make this any harder than it has to be.” He tried to grab Rafe. To the bastard’s surprise, Rafe threw him over his shoulder and caught the next closest man, taking him down as well.
The others rushed Rafe as one. He struck one’s neck and punched another in the solar plexus, eliminating two of his opponents. The fifth man kicked his ribs and punched him in the face in lightning quick moves. Pain burst in Rafe’s jaw as he defended himself from a series of well-placed blows. The blond rejoined the assault with the two remaining men and knocked him to the ground. One grabbed for Rafe’s ankles while another tried to shove a syringe in his arm. The blond yanked his head back by the hair.
“Hit him in the neck, Dickens.”
Rafe bucked and kicked the man holding his legs in the face hard enough to put him out of commission. He grabbed the syringe and managed to stab the blond with it. Then he tackled his last standing opponent. After suffering a few more blows to his ribs, he choked the man unconscious. When Rafe was able, he stood on shaky legs and hurried to his cell phone after retrieving his gun.
He called Storm, who answered on the second ring. “Hello?”
“Where are you?”
“Rafe? You don’t sound so good. What’s wrong?”
“Where are you?” he repeated.
“Don’t get huffy. I’m just getting ready to leave the house.”
“Don’t. Call your brothers and sit tight.” He rubbed his side, annoyed to feel the bruises starting to throb.
“Rafe? What’s wrong?” The worry in her voice soothed some weird part of him, because he liked that she was concerned.
“I’ll explain it to you when I can. But I think you might be in danger. Don’t leave the house, and lock your doors. I’ll come as soon as I can.”
He hung up and called Westlake. Assured a team was on the way, he then contacted Jurek specifically. Before he hung up, dull thuds impacted, shaking the bodies of the groaning men lying in the dirt.
Rafe dropped to the ground in seconds. He scooted under the car, but by then the shots had ceased.
Rafe called on his prognostication and watched as he, Jurek and a dozen agents in the yard surrounded five dead men. Frustrated, he slowly stood, favoring his right side, and looked around. Nothing but more questions with no answers. And worse, his date with Storm was shot all to hell.
Chapter Six
Storm shifted on her belly in bed, restless. She glared at her alarm clock. One in the morning, and still no further word from Rafe. Luc had taken her spare bedroom while Max and Thorne took care of some project they couldn’t get away from. After speaking with her, Rafe had called his boss, who in turn had called Max. She knew from her uncle that Rafe was alive and well. It would have been nice if Rafe had called her to explain things. She wanted to know what the hell had happened.
So much for her big date and the little black dress she’d purchased.
She sighed and decided to make a cup of tea. Maybe that would help calm her nerves. She rolled onto her back then froze. Two shadows leaned over her bed. One stuck the muzzle of a pistol in her belly.
“Don’t move, and don’t make a sound.”
Both intruders appeared male, and both were covered in black from head to toe. She tried to see their features but couldn’t due to the darkness of her room. The taller one on the right reached with a gloved hand and yanked the covers off her. Because Luc had spent the night, she wore her more prim pajamas, a cotton shirt and pant set.
She tensed even more at the thought of her brother. What had they done to him? Did they know he was in the house?
“Watch her,” the taller one ordered as he tucked his gun behind him. His companion nodded and stepped to the side, his gun still poking her stomach.
“Your boyfriend is out cold. He’ll wake with a headache. Unless you want a bullet in his brain, no sudden moves.”
“No moves. Okay.”
The shorter man stepped back and the taller one pulled her off the bed to her feet.
Storm’s mind raced. She needed to do something before they took away her hands. At least now she was in a much less vulnerable position.
“Wait!” she whispered and put her hands up to wave the large man back. “What are you doing here? Who are you? What’s going on?”
“All in good time, sweetheart,” the shorter man holding the pistol promised. “We’re not here to chit-chat. You come with us and you’ll get your answers soon enough.”
“Whatever you say. Just don’t hurt me or my brother.” She wished she could look into their eyes, but she’d make do. Relying on the persuasive tone of her voice, she spoke softly, “I really think you should step back a little.” She imagined the taller guy blocking the gun’s line of sight.
The taller male stopped reaching for her and moved to his left, effectively blocking the gun.
Storm pushed him into his partner and ran for the door. A shot rang out behind her, effectively halting her attempt at escape.
“Nice try, angel. Now I’m starting to get pissed.” The smaller of the two shoved his partner out of the way.
“Don’t, you idiot! He wants her alive. If you kill her, we’re as good as dead.”
They argued while she hurried into the living room. She kept a gun in a hidden panel by the fireplace. She just had to reach it.
The intruders followed. They could easily overpower her. She needed a distraction. Just then, the phone rang. They automatically glanced at it, giving her the time she needed to swing around the couch.
“We have to grab her and get the hell out of here,” the tall one insisted, his voice growing louder as he neared.
Just as she reached the fireplace, he grabbed her by the waist and tackled her to the ground. As they struggled, the phone stopped ringing. The overhead light came on. She quickly found herself blindfolded while the large man held her down. She resisted, but he wouldn’t be budged.
“What a hellcat. No wonder he wants her unharmed. Look at that bod.”
In the struggle, her shirt had ridden up under her breasts. She tensed when she felt a bare hand over her midriff. The bastard had taken off his glove to touch her? Panic made a muck of her resolve to remain in control.
“Yeah, this one’s a keeper. No wonder he’s paying top dollar for her unharmed.” His hand crept higher and squeezed her breast.
“Storm!”
Everyone froze.
Luc’s voice grew louder as he shouted for her through the spare bedroom door.
The threat of rape didn’t match the fear of what they’d do to her brother. She was a Buchanan. She’d be damned if she’d let some thugs harm her or her family.
“Come on, baby. Let me up and we’ll play.” She exerted a tremendous amount of effort to get through to the man on top of her. The skin to skin contact helped.
When he removed his hand and started to stand, she kicked him between his legs. She heard the shorter man swear and ripped the blindfold from her eyes as he reached her.
“Give me the gun, handsome.” She magnified her rage and fear into a command he couldn’t deny, despite his struggles. His nose bled while he mentally fought, and tears appeared in his eyes.
“S-s-sure th-th-thing.” He released the gun just as her front door flew open.
Thorne race
d inside with her uncle on his heels. At that moment, the bedroom door crashed open and Luc fell into the hallway.
But with her attention diverted, the men who’d tried to kidnap her raced past Luc down the hallway to the laundry room and back door. That they even knew where to go scared her, since her back door wasn’t off the kitchen, the way so many houses in the neighborhood had been designed.
“Go after them. I’ve got her,” Max barked.
Thorne tore after the criminals while Max hovered and Luc hurried to kneel by her.
“You okay?” With wild eyes, her brother checked over every inch of her, hugging her to him with relief.
“Am I okay? That’s some bruise you’re sporting, big brother.” She studied his temple with worry.
Her uncle wasn’t as sympathetic. “You were supposed to watch over her.”
Luc hung his head. “I was, but I... Hell, I have no excuse. I haven’t been sleeping well, and tonight of all nights it caught up to me. I wasn’t as aware as I should have been, and they knocked me out before I could defend myself.”
Storm gripped his arm. “Luc, sit down before you fall down.”
Uncle Max swore and called their medical team. Luc sat on the couch while Storm grabbed some ice and wrapped it in a towel. She quickly rejoined him and put the icy towel to his head.
“Shit.”
“You big baby. Be still.” She turned to her uncle. “Not that I’m not happy to see you, but I have to admit I’m curious. If Luc didn’t see this one coming, how did you?”
“We have Savage to thank for that.”
“Rafe?” Her pulse quickened. “Is he okay?”
“All I know is that Thorne and I were on the verge of learning who the hell Henry’s been working for when the phone rang, and Henry once again disappeared.”
“Bummer,” Luc croaked.
They’d been after Henry Carva for two years.
Max sighed and sat beside Luc. “Well, I have to admit I’d hoped to nail the bastard. But learning you two were in danger took precedence. Your boyfriend has a handy talent, Storm.”
Luc flinched when she pressed a bit hard. “Boyfriend?”
Storm groaned. “Not now. I want to know what’s going on. First Rafe is almost shot, then this?”
Max nodded. “Something is definitely off about all of this. Both of you need to get dressed. Pack a bag, Storm. You’re coming with us.”
Storm would leave tonight, but she had no intention of hiding away while her family tried to protect her. She’d seen the Buchanans in action too many times to discount the male protective streak. Hell, she’d watched her uncle and her cousin Cole smother Alex for years.
As she dressed and packed, she processed the information she’d overheard from her would-be kidnappers. She rejoined her family in the living room, and minutes later, Thorne returned empty-handed.
“They got away,” he spat with disgust. “They had a van waiting down the street that snagged them just as I’d neared. Obviously we have a third man, if not more. What the hell is happening?”
“We’ll find the answers at Westlake’s. Together, not apart, will lead the way to the reflections of truth.” Luc’s empty voice and blank expression preceded the rush of energy into the room. His face cleared and he scowled. “Man, my head is aching. Why can’t I ever see lottery numbers instead of nightmares?”
Poor Luc had a rough time with his abilities. He never saw direct visions of the future. Instead he had odd dreams and visions that portended trouble. And most of those needed to be deciphered, riddled with imagery and mysterious symbols. Unlike Thorne and Storm, he couldn’t call on his gift at will. It hit or it didn’t, with no in-between.
“I don’t think Westlake is necessarily a nightmare,” Storm offered.
Her brothers turned twin frowns her way. Thorne snorted. “You wouldn’t.”
Max sighed. “Great. A party with our competitor. At the very least, I hope we can get some answers.”
A half hour later, Storm arrived at the Westlake building with her family. They met Jurek, J.D. and Rafe in a large conference room.
“You okay?” Rafe asked.
She nodded. He had a bruise on his cheek but otherwise looked okay. Her overwhelming relief at finding him alive and well brought tears to her eyes. Stupid. She blinked hard. If her family saw her this upset, they’d attribute her weakness to the stress of the night. She didn’t see her brothers or uncle tearing up, and she’d be damned if she’d play the part of the vulnerable little woman around so much testosterone.
Jurek cleared his throat to attract everyone’s attention. “Let’s have a seat. I think it’s time to share what we know.”
Storm sat across from Rafe at the table, flanked on either side by her brothers and uncle.
“What the hell’s going on?” Thorne focused his displeasure on Rafe.
Rafe glanced at Jurek, who nodded. “It all started about a week ago, when Storm was almost run down by a stolen car. Friday night, right?”
“What?” Max wasn’t pleased.
Her brothers echoed his anger.
“You never said anything.”
“Are you okay? Damn it, Storm!”
“Everyone, if we could have some calm?” Jurek added, and the sound of his voice lulled everyone into a kind of haze.
Storm glared at Rafe. “I was going to tell them,” she said in defense of her silence.
“When?”
“Yeah, when?” Thorne asked.
Her uncle’s eyes were a deep black, and she could feel him seething with anger. “Storm, I want an explanation. Now.”
She should have told them sooner. She knew it. “It was on a date with Hank. We’d just left the movie theater when a car nearly ran us down. I managed to push Hank away but the car clipped me. End of story. I didn’t tell you about it because there was nothing you could do. I figured some drunk driver got careless and I didn’t want you worried.”
Thorne scowled at her. “You still should have told us. You might have been seriously hurt.”
“She was,” Luc pointed out. “That limp you were trying to hide is more than a stubbed toe, little sister. Gimme a break.”
“It’s a huge purple bruise on her upper left thigh,” Rafe offered.
All gazes swung to him.
“Hey, she’s my girlfriend, of course I’d know.” His sly grin made her want to slap him.
Everyone looked at her and she blushed. “Oh, hell. He stopped by my apartment when I was in my robe. He saw a hint of skin. That’s all.” She worked really hard to shut down all thought about what had happened after that. “I admit the car may have bumped me a little.”
“Bumped you a little? Are you out of your mind?” Thorne’s voice grew louder.
Jurek shook his head. “Yell at her later. We need to get to the root of this. Rafe, fill them in.”
Rafe nodded. “This seems to have begun with the attempt to hurt Storm. I had my own run-in with someone strange last Monday.” Rafe described the occurrence. “We did manage to get some prints off the casings but haven’t been able to locate our man. His name is Lewis Greene. He’s got a reputation as an efficient hit man, which makes the prints on the casings suspect. His name’s been linked with several shooting deaths but none of the evidence has ever linked him to the crimes. That he left any evidence behind on Monday doesn’t fit.”
J.D. added, “We’re still looking for Greene. And tonight, in the course of another investigation, five men tried to bring Rafe to meet their employer, whoever that is. They threatened to hurt Storm if he didn’t cooperate.”
“Bastards. What have you gotten out of them?” Thorne asked.
“They’re all dead,” J.D. answered.
Rafe had killed them?
“Don’t look at me.” Rafe held up his hands. “I took them down intending to get answers. Before I could, a sniper picked off each one.” He glanced at Storm. “It was right after that I called you.”
Storm wondered how the heck she wa
s tied to this. Maybe one of Rafe’s enemies thought he could get to Rafe through her? But she’d been on a date with Hank when she’d first been struck. None of this made sense.
“The men knew about our date tonight, Storm,” Rafe said. “But I called your office from mine. So either we have a leak or you do.”
Max swore. “I need to talk to Remy right away.”
J.D. looked steamed. “I’ve already run a security check on our end, but so far I’ve found nothing.”
Rafe rubbed the back of his neck, and Storm noticed the scrapes on his knuckles. “All of this is connected,” he said. “I can feel it. These aren’t random events. Someone wants Storm and me alive. The first attacks were amateur. She wasn’t hurt—overly—and I wasn’t shot. Trust me, Greene had plenty of opportunity to kill me if he’d wanted to.”
“Tonight men were sent to kidnap both of us.” Storm thought quickly. “You said it yourself, they tried to grab you, not kill you. My kidnappers said he’d kill them if I was brought back harmed in any way. And they wanted you to meet their employer. It sounds as if there’s one man at the center of it all, but I can’t think who you and I might have in common.”
“Neither can I.” Rafe shrugged. He looked tired and frustrated. A glance around the table showed her they all did.
Jurek intervened. “Max? We’ll make this a top priority, cross-checking names with your files and ours. In the meantime, I think we all need to get some shuteye.” He stood. “Why don’t you and I talk while the rest of them bunk down together? We’ll save manpower if we consolidate.”
“But someone wants both of them. You think we should put Rafe and Storm anywhere near each other?”
Thorne nodded. “Good point. We’ll take Storm. Best of luck, Savage.”
Max glanced at Luc and shook his head. “No,” he said slowly. “I think Jurek is right. We’ll keep a close eye on everyone.”
Jurek glanced at J.D. “Can you handle the details on this? I want to keep our involvement quiet.”
“I’m on it, boss. I know of a great place to rest up.” He left the room.