I almost forgot how much I liked the fucker until I saw his face again. We didn’t gossip like ol’ biddies or anything, so I have no idea what the hell he’s been up to all these years beyond his new team, but there are some things you don’t need to say to know.
There was a look in his eyes that hadn’t been there before, a look that not even a war in the desert had put there, but something even more tragic. My gut told me he was probably a loner now more than ever, and that worried me as much as this news from Screech. After all, a man who is prone to going off halfcocked on missions by himself could get into a world of trouble. It seems as though perhaps he may have found trouble in Ricca.
“Survey the situation and get back to me.” I end the call, not wanting Desirae to have questions. I don’t want to lie to her, but my world is one I can’t share with her.
I pick up my fork and begin to eat, waiting for her to ask questions. When she doesn’t, I can’t hide my surprise.
“What?” She doesn’t hold back. “Why do you look like you wanna devour me, or are waiting for me to tell you your puppy died? I’m not sure which.”
I laugh. “You’re different.”
She raises an eyebrow at me, her curly hair wild around her face, making me want to devour her.
“How am I different? I have tits, ass, and a hole for you to sink into. I think that makes me like every other woman.”
Reaching out, I trace her jawline. “Far from it, sweetheart. Any other woman would have asked who was on the phone, what that was about—that kind of shit.”
She smiles big. “Why, so you can lie to me and tell me you’re in the construction business and remodeling a home?” She sets her fork down. “Look, Ethan, the way I see it, if I don’t ask, you don’t have to lie. What you do is your business.”
Something about this burns in a way it never has before.
“Des, I don’t want it to be like this. I don’t want you to think I’m lying or keeping things from you.”
She puts her hands up to stop me. “I’ve lived with the Hellions long enough to know anything kept from me is for my own protection. I don’t need to know about your club life. You do what you gotta do, and if that means Home Depot is the new code word for a meeting, then so be it. I don’t need to know.”
Damn, they don’t make them better than her.
Never in a million years did I think I would come across a broad who would fit into my life the way it is now. Sure, Ice found a woman like that in Morgan, but he had to teach her the ins and outs of our world along the way. It seems, with Des, I don’t even need to do that. It’s like she’s a fucking mythological, motorcycle club, rainbow-colored unicorn, something men talk about having in their wildest dreams yet never expect to achieve in reality. However, here sits my wildest dream, right next to me. It almost feels too good to be true, which worries me. Nothing this good could ever come along without something bad happening somewhere after. That’s life’s checks and balances system. Here, have a present. Now watch me take your present away from you.
The idea should seem ridiculous, but knowing Ricca, possibly Wellington, and who knows who else are after my woman to take away her God-given right to breathe is my bitch slap from reality. I just got her where I want her—in my bed and on the back of my bike. There is no way in hell I’m willing to lose her now.
Desirae’s brows furrow, and I realize I have been silent too long.
She sighs. “Look, if you want me to ask just so you can tell me all official like that it’s none of my business, I will. But really, I thought you might appreciate the fact that I’ve already been well-trained by the Hellions.”
Well-trained? I don’t like the way that sounds. I know there are plenty of fuckers up there who would be more than happy to get Des naked.
“Woman, just what the fuck does well-trained mean?”
Her eyes go wide at my tone. “It means just what I said before. I know not to ask questions about stuff you can’t tell me. It means that, if you got a phone call right now then hung up and tell me you have to go, I know better than to ask you where and to just give you a kiss and tell you to be safe. It means I know your brothers and your club come before anything and anyone, including me.”
Some wild, instinctive part of me suddenly wants to grab her face in both of my hands and tell her that’s not true, that the club will never come before her, which seems beyond crazy. I have only had her in my life for a little over a month and in my bed for a night. My emotions are at war with my logic, and neither side is winning at the moment, but neither side is willing to back down from the fight. Regardless, I can’t give her those words yet. That would be the equivalent of putting my mark on her skin, a property patch on her back, and a ring on her finger.
Part of me really wants to take that leap, which is why I know that, even if I can’t give her the words now, if things keep going like this between us, it won’t be long before I do give them to her. And I will be damned if anyone, including Ricca, is going to take that or her away from me.
Before I know it, my hands are cradling her face exactly like I imagined. My thumbs stroke the soft, warm skin of her cheeks as my fingers tighten just enough to silently say what I can’t speak out loud.
I don’t wanna let you go. Maybe ever.
Her gorgeous eyes search my own as a heat builds behind them. It’s the same sort of heat I saw and felt when I was making love to her last night.
Damn, it is crazy how something I never thought I would need could be unexpectedly dropped into my lap. Even if it was a crippled lap being wheeled around in a stupid chair, she seems to fit so nicely there, like she’s proving to fit everywhere else in my life. Perfectly.
I let my internal civil war rage on and give in to the only thing I can give her right now: my body.
I crash my lips down on hers in a hard, hungry kiss that doesn’t feel adequate enough to convey just how much she is coming to mean to me. So I kiss her deeper, searching, looking for some way to show her what I can’t make myself say.
Our tongues tangle, and with it, I feel part of something deep inside me let loose to tangle up in everything that is her. I’m not worried about getting that piece back, either. I want her to have it, some part of me she can carry with her everywhere she goes. Getting lost in this woman is a nirvana I don’t want to come out of anytime soon.
A bit of my sanity returns, though, when I hear a plate crash to the floor. Pulling away, I see that it was her plate of food, but at least the dish didn’t break.
Looking back at her feverishly shining eyes, flushed face, and swollen lips, I would love nothing more than to give her everything her body is silently begging for. However, I want my woman full of more than just my cock. I want to take care of her in one of the most basic ways a man can. I want to feed her, know that the food meant to nourish my body is nourishing hers, instead, keeping her strong and healthy.
I slide my plate of food over to her. “Eat up, babe. I’ll clean up the mess then take a quick shower while you finish.”
Not giving her the chance to object, I lean down, swipe the food back onto the plate, and head off to the kitchen to dump it. Before I head down the hall to my bathroom, I look back to see her putting a forkful of eggs in her mouth, and it damn near makes my chest puff out in pride that I’m taking care of my girl as much as she has been taking care of me.
I shoot her a devilish grin and wink before I disappear out of view, whistling one of the songs I had to sing as I was running in formation while in Special Forces training.
After a quick shower, I’m going to show Des why it’s so important she keep up her strength by engaging in one of the more intimate kinds of workouts for the day.
~Desirae~
Ethan is in the shower, and for the first time in I can’t remember, I am relaxed. I have a belly full of food, along with those butterfly feelings I haven’t experienced since high school. Part of me feels guilty for being happy when my siste
r is dead. She will never get to feel this again. I can’t even say for certain she ever did before she died.
I can’t help wondering about this Ricca man she got herself tangled up with. Is he handsome? Is he a charmer? What is he so deeply involved in that he got my sister killed? Was it the tie to him? Was she a message to him?
My mind goes over and over what really happened to my sister. Before I can get to the moment it all ended, I hear a noise at the door.
Strange, I think to myself. Everyone in Ethan’s life who comes and goes has their own key.
Maybe Evan has his hands full, I think as I hear more shuffling from the doorway. I don’t give it a second thought as I stand in front of the refrigerator, leaning in to decide what to make for dinner.
I stand up just as a hand comes around to cover my mouth. I try to scream, but the cold metal of a gun is pressed to my cheek.
“Keep quiet!” a man’s voice whispers harshly into my ear.
How the hell did this guy get into Ethan’s apartment and past his security system? Did we forget to arm it last night?
My assailant drags me, stumbling backward, out of the apartment. We make it to the elevator where its doorway is held open by a box before Ethan comes running out of his apartment, still glistening wet from his shower with just his boxers on and a gun in his hand. He aims, but there is no shot without hitting me as I am pulled into the elevator.
My captor kicks the box out of the opening, and the doors immediately begin to close.
Fear fills me. I struggle against the man’s hold as tears prick behind my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. I keep my eyes on Ethan’s until the elevator doors close completely.
I have never had a gun held on me like this before. If I try to fight him, will he give up on trying to kidnap me and just pull the trigger? I’m not ready to die now. Facing death in the reflection of the stainless steel elevator doors, I feel my will to live after losing my sister suddenly return.
The descent feels like the longest elevator ride of my life. I can feel my entire body trembling in fear as I blindly stare at the stainless steel reflection of myself being held by a man in black with a mask. The gun pressed to my temple taunts me, reminding me that I’m on the verge of death the way my sister was when she was tied to that tree and tortured. The memory brings on a fresh wave of adrenaline and despair. I’m not ready to die, and I sure as shit don’t want to be tortured!
The elevator finally stops on the first floor with a soft ding that seems to taunt me with what is coming next. The doors slide open, and the man holding me doesn’t even wait until our reflection has disappeared to push me forward. Even though I know it’s probably stupid to fight since he could blow my brains out at any given moment, I still do my best to drag my feet and fight him every step of the way.
As we near the stairway door, I can hear the thuds of someone falling, and my heart breaks. Ethan isn’t ready for those, and I know he pushed himself in order to try to save me. I can only hope Evan or one of the Regulators has eyes on the building to get to me and to get to Ethan quickly.
My captor pushes me out of the building’s front door and into the parking lot where a full-sized van pulls up with its sliding door already open and waiting. I’m shoved inside, and the van peels off with a screech of tires while my captor climbs in behind me, slamming the door closed as we go. His gun is still pointed at me, but I try to kick it. The man only laughs from behind his mask.
I scramble to the backdoors, determined to launch myself out into the road. My fingertips are just grazing the interior handle when he grabs my hair and yanks me back roughly. I hear the bones in my neck crack violently, and a surge of pain blazes from my neck through my shoulders for a split second before I hit the back of my head on the metal floor.
I keep pushing to crawl away again, worried I might have more than a pulled muscle from my kidnapper being so rough. Any serious injury could keep me from escaping. Regardless, I’m going to fight with every cell in my body.
My fingertips are only an inch away from the same damn handle when he pulls me hard again and covers my mouth and nose with a cloth this time. When I inhale the pungent scent on the fabric, my eyes close of their own accord, and before I can fight further, I’m out cold.
Chapter
16
~Hammer~
If shit didn’t go south fast… I come out of my shower to hear a struggle in the kitchen, so I slide boxers onto my still wet body and set out to see Desirae fighting to free herself from some man’s hold. Time stands still.
Grabbing my hideaway 9mm from the end table, I flip the safety off and move to the doorway. I aim yet can’t get a clear shot. I won’t put her in jeopardy. The elevator doors close as I lock my eyes on hers.
Without thinking, I hit the stairwell and make it down two floors before the pain starts shooting through my hips, and my legs begin to shake almost uncontrollably. I make it down another two floors before everything gives out, and I tumble down the fifth set of stairs to the ground floor. My body is on fire, my head throbs, and I need to get up. Everything is spinning, making my stomach clench with the need to puke, and I can’t get my vision to clear. I groan and elbow crawl to the closest door.
A maintenance man for the complex comes rushing over.
“Phone,” I yell hoarsely.
He hands me his cell, and I quickly dial Alibi.
Coal’s gruff voice grunts a greeting.
“Hammer here. Send reinforcements now,” I bark out in pain.
“On it, brother.”
I disconnect the call, my body feeling like it’s on fire from the inside out. My mind can only focus on one thing, though: Desirae.
Someone came into my house and got her. I didn’t keep her safe. I failed her.
My broken body couldn’t take the stairs, and I let her down.
The maintenance man grabs his phone from me. “Be still. I’ll call the paramedics.”
“No!” The cops will only hold up our window of opportunity to find her. “Just help me stand.”
He helps me up, but my hips want to crumble. I fight to stay upright as Coal and Ice jump out of a truck and rush in.
“Des! Fuckin’ get Screech on the cameras and find her!” I roar.
“Already on it,” Coal replies as he wraps my arm around his shoulders. “Lean on me, brother.” With no other choice, I do. They get me into the truck, and we drive to the club.
Rage consumes me as my mind races with everything they could be doing to her. Hell, we don’t even know who has her.
Ice’s phone rings, and after he looks at the display screen, he answers with a clipped “Yeah” while pushing the speaker button.
Screech’s voice crackles over the line. “Eyes on the prize via the Florida Highway Patrol’s aircraft camera feed. Regular white work van. I can’t get the plates because they have them obscured with one of those tinted license plate covers. They’ve already hit the highway and are headed northwest at a speed of seventy miles per hour. You’ll need to put the pedal to the metal to catch up to them.”
“What are we lookin’ at for law enforcement presence in the area? We clear for top speeds?”
“Negative, ghost rider. You’ve got several bogeys in your area, so you’ll have to proceed with caution. You want me to tip them off to a kidnapping and put a BOLO out in case? They can get to her before you can.
“NO!” I shout. “They’ll fuckin’ kill her before any cops can stop the van. Just keep your eyes on her and let us know where they’re heading.”
“Roger that. Still headed northwest on Route 27. Next exit is Hialeah.”
“If they so much as shift their little pinky in another direction, I wanna know immediately,” Ice grinds out through gritted teeth.
“Ten-four, bos—Wait, what the fuck? No! FUCK NO!”
My hands grip the dashboard so hard they are white from the strain, and I hear the vinyl crack under the pressure. “What is
it, Screech?”
“I lost the fuckin’ feed! Something or someone is jamming it, blocking me out.”
“You can’t hack another source, man?” Coal asks.
“I’m searching traffic light camera feeds now, but it doesn’t look good, brother. I can’t find them where they’re supposed to be at the rate they are traveling. And nothing is coming up in the vicinity, either. I hate to say this, but I think we just lost ’em.”
Picking up the phone, I call the only other people who know about Desirae’s situation and what the fuck we are possibly dealing with.
“Tank,” he answers immediately.
“Hammer here. Tell me you’ve got something more than the last time we touched base.”
I hear the muffled sounds of him moving locations. His voice is low, his tone sharp. “Tell me the panic I hear in your voice isn’t because something happened to Des.”
“No time for a pissing match. Share your intel.”
“Gotta ride,” I hear him say to someone else. “We already have. You guys are the big dogs with the legal connections.”
“I don’t give a shit what kind of connections need to be used. Someone found her and came into my fucking house to get her. Tell me who the fuck it is so we can get to her.”
“We shared all we have. Hang tight,” he snaps, moving through an office or some sort of building. “Check Des’s bank account. Did she move any money? Anyone touch anything?” I hear Tank order someone else. He still doesn’t speak to me as I hear the mumbled sounds of another man speaking. “Ah, fuckin’ shit.”
“What? Dammit, don’t leave me hanging.” My anxiety amps up, and I have this need to snap someone in two. Right now, Hellion or not, Tank will suffice to ease my temper.
“Des apparently logged into her online account not long ago. If anyone was watching for a paper trail of her location and hacked in, they could narrow down where she was.”
“I’ve got a man I can get on that. Anything else?”
Hammer (Regulators MC Book 2) Page 16