Seeking Vengeance: Callaghan Brothers, Book 4

by Abbie Zanders

  Which told Sean that whoever was under the car was really not supposed to be under there.

  Without waiting for an answer, Sean walked over to the car and pounded on the side panel. “Get the fuck out,” he growled as he yanked the Bose plug out of the wall. A heavy thud beneath the car, followed by the sound of a wrench hitting the concrete, almost made him wince. He wanted to scare the guy, not give him a concussion.

  Sean placed himself before the front of the Benz, feet planted hip-width apart and arms crossed to provide maximum intimidation while fixing his patented lethal glare. He blinked when the feet came out first. Instead of sneakers or work boots, the feet were covered in black leather boots with silver chains. And six inch spike heels.

  Sean could feel the pressure in his jaw from where he ground his teeth together. Nick was letting a girl under there? A freaking girl? He turned his glower on Nick, who was growing paler by the second.

  Familiar-looking blue coveralls began to emerge from beneath the vehicle. The boots were attached to legs that seemed to go on forever, followed by ample hips, lots of loose material around a probably small, flat waist, and, oh, sweet Jesus, breasts that filled out the coveralls better than he’d ever seen.

  “What the fuck, Nick?” said a low female voice as the head emerged, a burgeoning telltale red mark on her forehead marring what was otherwise flawless skin the color of a white peach.

  Not a girl. A woman. The woman took one look at Nick and followed his gaze to Sean. She should have been scared. Terrified even. She wasn’t. Her eyes might have widened a little. She might have run her tongue along her upper lip briefly. But there was no fear.

  “This your boss?” she asked, inclining her head toward Sean as she stood up. The sky high stilettos put her mouth somewhere around neck level with Sean. Nick nodded.

  She smirked, and Sean’s balls tightened painfully. At least now he knew the source of ominous foreboding he’d been experiencing. Outside he remained calm, but inside, his body was in full-scale riot mode.

  “You’re right,” she said in that smoky, kitten voice. “He does look like a total hard ass.”

  Nick groaned and closed his eyes. “Shut it, Nicki.”

  “Excuse me,” Sean said, his voice even lower, deadlier than before. “I don’t think we’ve met.”

  Light gray eyes – identical to Nick’s – considered him briefly before totally disregarding him. Sean was thunderstruck. No one had ever ignored him so blatantly. And certainly not a woman.

  Instead, she looked at Nick and began unzipping the coveralls. Within seconds she had revealed a voluptuous body poured into black leather pants and a matching lace-up black leather corset. On her back was a wicked tattoo of a fallen angel, centered so that the wings just kissed her shoulder blades. The flash of perfect flesh exposed between her low-slung pants and too-short top gave a teasing glimpse of some spiraling symbols that Sean ached to explore in greater detail with his tongue. She wiped her hands on the coveralls and handed them to Nick.

  “Benz is fixed. Was a problem with the modulator. Wrong size gap plug. You’re good to go.”

  Hands with long, elegant fingers and gloss black nails reached up to pull what looked like a pair of silver chopsticks from the top of her head. Immediately volumes of shiny black hair fell, cascading over her shoulders and breasts. With smooth grace she slipped the sticks – which Sean now saw were actually metal picks – into her knee-high black leather boots. It was too much. Sean felt like he was trapped in some kind of surreal dream. No, not a dream. A fantasy.

  “Hold on there, sweetheart. I’m not finished with you yet.”

  The woman regarded him for a moment, her lids half closed like a lazy panther, before she proceeded to walk right up to him, stopping when her body was only an inch or so from his. Even with the six-inch spikes her eyes were barely level with his jaw line. A dark, delicate fragrance assaulted him, sending pulsating images of hot, naked sex beneath a full moon in the middle of the woods through his brain.

  Without a trace of fear, she tilted her head up to look him in the eye. Up close, her eyes were even freakier than Nick’s. Crystal clear, multi-faceted like master-cut gems, appearing all that much lighter because of the black kohl outlining her upper and lower lids, framed in long thick lashes. The angle of the tilt made her eyes appeared half closed, as if frozen in ecstasy. She licked her lips, her very dark red glossy lips, the color of candy apples and just as shiny, the action slow and sensuous.

  There were two things going through Sean’s mind simultaneously at that point. One, this woman should be scared shitless, but she didn’t seem the least bit fazed. And two, she was the hottest woman he’d ever seen. As if to accentuate that point, his heart pounded in his chest and need clawed in his groin. The electricity arcing between them had him harder than a steel rod.

  * * *

  So this was Nick’s boss, the infamous Sean Callaghan. Nick talked enough about him, but nothing could have prepared her for meeting him in the flesh. The guy screamed intensity and power, and radiated a raw sexuality that called to her most primitive instincts.

  Without conscious effort, she memorized every nuance of his facial and bone structure. It was a skill she’d developed over the years, ensuring that should she encounter him again she would recognize him without fail, even if he attempted to change his appearance. Not that she would be able to forget him easily. His very presence commanded her absolute and undivided attention, which annoyed the hell out of her. Nicki, like her brother, had a natural resistance to authority figures.

  It was a hell of a presence for a simple mechanic. Even as the thought entered her mind, she dismissed it. Sean Callaghan was no more a garden variety garage owner than she was a Sunday school teacher. His countenance, the way he held himself, the silent arrogance – they all reeked of special forces training. Marines. Navy SEALs. Black Ops, maybe. But it all added up to the same thing: DANGER.

  His dark hair, cerulean blue eyes, and strong masculine features reminded her a lot of the guy who owned BodyWorks, the local fitness center. The resemblance was eerie. Brothers, most likely, she thought to herself. The BodyWorks guy was younger, broader, but didn’t have the breath-stealing, bad-ass intensity of this guy.

  All of this passed through her mind in a second, maybe two. The bottom line – the sleepy little town of Pine Ridge had its share of secrets. It was intriguing, but unless it had a direct correlation to her purpose, none of it mattered. The best thing she could do was just stay the fuck out of his way.

  And if he knew what was good for him, he’d stay the fuck out of hers.

  “But I am finished with you, baby,” she purred. To further illustrate her point, her hand reached out and covered his crotch. Oh yeah, this guy was made for hot, sweaty sex. One side of her mouth curved upward with a knowing smile as her hand ran the length of him, cupping his balls firmly through his jeans. “Damn.”

  “Nicki!” Nick said in a low, warning voice.

  Her eyes flicked toward her brother, having momentarily forgotten he was there. Her hand dropped away, and the smile was gone in an instant as she stepped back, all playfulness replaced by a mask of cold indifference.

  “My debt’s paid. I’m outta here.”

  “Nicki, wait –“

  “Sorry, sweetie. Can’t be late or the natives get restless.” She tossed one more smoky glance Sean’s way. “Nice package, by the way.” She began to walk away, but didn’t get more than a step or two before Sean’s hand reached out and clamped around her wrist like a vice, stopping her in her tracks.

  One corner of her mouth tilted up slightly, though her eyes flashed silvery fire. “Oooh, I bet you like it rough, don’t you?” she smirked, her voice a husky growl.

  “Sean – Mr. Callaghan - please, let her go.” Nick’s voice, laced with an edge of panic, cut through the tense silence. “Please.”

  Nick’s boss narrowed his eyes, but released the grip on her wrist. She reclaimed her hand and smiled, showing perfect white
teeth. “Later, Hardass.”

  Nicki Milligan walked – no strutted – out of Callaghan Auto like she owned it. She paused just outside, letting the cool air drift over her bare shoulders. Then she took a few steps to the left, out of the reach of the spotlights and into the shadows. There she promptly collapsed against the side of the building, hands gripping her trembling knees while she gasped desperately for breath and fought the urge to cry.

  She was used to dealing with dangerous, brutal men. Her whole life had been an in-depth study. But that was no ordinary man. It had taken every ounce of courage she had not to run from the sheer intensity of those blue eyes. But she’d learned a long time ago never to show fear; attitude was survival, and she planned on being around for a while yet. With shaking legs, she mounted her cycle and kicked it into high gear, racing down the street as fast as her machine would take her.

  Chapter Two

  Sean stared at the door. He wouldn’t have believed it if he hadn’t just seen it for himself.

  It took him a few minutes to realize that Nick was gathering his stuff. “Want to tell me what just happened?” Sean said.

  Nick turned tormented eyes his way. The kid opened up his mouth, then promptly shut it again and shook his head.

  At least Sean now had a good idea where Nick’s mind had been lately. Hell, Sean was having trouble thinking clearly, and he’d only been in the woman’s presence for two minutes. He couldn’t imagine being around her for any length of time. Christ, his cock was still tingling from her hot little hand, and that was through denim and Hanes. God help him if she actually wrapped her fingers around him; he’d probably turn to ash in her palm.

  Sean blew out a breath and tried to focus. “Okay, let’s start simple. Who was that?”

  Nick exhaled heavily. “My sister.”

  Holy shit. And then some. Sean had no idea this kid even had a sister. No wonder he had problems. Sean reached over and flipped off the lights. “Come on. I think we both need a drink.” For a moment, Nick looked like he might bolt instead, but then nodded. “Yeah. Fuck yeah.”

  “Was that a Ducati?” Sean said as he locked up, his eyes glued to the quickly disappearing taillight down the street.

  Nick blew out a breath, releasing his hair from its binding and shaking his head like a dog. “Sort of.”

  Sean pulled a couple of longnecks from the glass-doored fridge behind the bar. Jake’s Irish Pub was owned by his family; his brothers Jake and Ian took care of most of the day-to-day operations, but they all helped out occasionally.

  The place had a decent Friday night crowd, but Sean led him toward a quiet back corner usually reserved for close family and friends. Here they could talk in relative privacy. A nod to Jake was all it took to ensure that they would not be disturbed.

  Nick slid into the booth, looking a little worse for wear. That was good, Sean thought. He was less likely to lie that way.

  “So tell me what’s going on, Nick,” he said, handing him a bottle.

  Nick shrugged, accepting the cold beer and taking a long pull. “My sister’s in town. No big.” He flicked those freaky eyes at Sean. It was disconcerting to see such light, almost clear eyes against such dark lashes and hair, but Sean was fairly used to it by now.

  “I know I shouldn’t have had her in the bays, but she’s cool. Damn better than anyone else you got working there.” He paused. “And you do have that no-one-works-alone policy,” he added, almost as an afterthought.

  Sean refrained from pointing out that his rule was intended for employees and skilled mechanics, not for little sisters, even if they did bear a striking resemblance to Kate Beckinsale’s Underworld persona. Or maybe he was thinking of her role in Van Helsing. Sometimes they overlapped in his private fantasies.

  “She’s been the one helping you at night?”

  Nick turned surprised eyes on him, and Sean allowed just a small smile. “No one can get through that many jobs on their own, Nick. Not even you. I figured it was Dave, or Tommy maybe.”

  Nick barked out a laugh and shook his head vigorously. “You kidding me? They couldn’t find a fuel line with a lit match.”

  So Nick’s sister had inherited some of the same mechanical skills too. With bad girl looks and a body that made his mouth water, Sean’s fantasy was only getting better. If this kept up he was going to have to pinch himself soon. Or fuck her until she couldn’t remember her own name. He knew which one would be more effective. He also knew which one was the smarter choice of the two.

  “Looks a lot like you.”

  “We’re twins,” Nick admitted heavily, taking another long drink.

  “No shit?”

  “No shit.” Sean wasn’t sure if Nick viewed the admission as a good thing or a bad thing. Maybe a little bit of both. Sean had a twin, too. He and Shane were identical. Sometimes that was as much of a curse as a blessing; he knew firsthand the pull a twin had on you, for better or worse. And if the sister was anything like the brother, a.k.a., a magnet for trouble, well, no wonder the kid didn’t know which end was up.

  “She in some kind of trouble?”

  “Yeah. Sort of. I don’t know. Fuck.” For a moment, Nick looked almost lost. “She doesn’t think she is, but I’m not so sure.”

  “Maybe I can help.”

  Nick might have snorted; it was hard to tell. In any event, it wasn’t much of a response, and after a few minutes stretched by in silence, Sean figured he wasn’t going to get any more for free. He decided to try another angle. “So, how long is she in town?”

  “Don’t know. A day. A week. A month. However long it takes. ”

  “However long what takes?” Sean probed.

  Seconds ticked by before Nick answered. When he did, his expression was like stone, his eyes cold gray steel. “Family shit.”

  It wasn’t exactly ‘none of your business’, but it was close enough, and it was clear that the kid had no intention of willingly sharing the details. Sean wouldn’t push that button too hard just yet, at least not directly. He had a feeling that if he did, Nick would just clam up completely. As it was, he could tell Nick was uncomfortable with divulging just the little bit he already had. Still, it wasn’t enough to put Sean off from trying to find out more.

  “She’s staying with you, then?”

  “Yeah.” Nick’s features softened, just a little. Sean tried to remain patient, reminding himself that Nick seemed to be going through a rough patch, even though the why of it wasn’t exactly clear yet. Sean’s preferred style of interrogation tended to be a bit more aggressive and involved direct – and usually unpleasant – physical contact, though arguably, it achieved more satisfactory results in a timelier manner. Nick’s vague, short answers were fast becoming tiresome. Adding to his edge was the unexplainable need to know; he wasn’t sure why it was important, just that it was.

  “Is that part of the problem? Her crashing with you?”

  “Hell, no,” Nick said irritably, then caught himself. “Nicki’s great, man. I love having her around. It’s just...”

  Nick scrubbed his face with his hand, and in that instant, he looked a lot older than his physical years. Just what the hell had happened to these kids? Sean reminded himself to ask Ian – the resident expert on digital research – to look beyond the standard background check, only he’d ask him to include the sister, too.

  In the meantime, Sean signaled Taryn for two more beers and waited patiently. Nick wanted to talk, maybe needed to. Sean would let him get to it in his own time.

  As long as it didn’t take too long.

  Nick was obviously giving his answer a lot of thought, picking and choosing what he could safely reveal. Sean had been through enough interrogations to know when someone was weighing their options, deciding whether or not to lie and to what degree.

  “She’s stubborn, you know? She won’t let me take care of her while she’s in town. I hadn’t seen her in... well, that doesn’t matter. The point is, she insists on working, chipping in for food and shit.” He
snorted again. “She says she doesn’t want to be a burden.”

  “That doesn’t sound so bad,” Sean said, sipping his beer. “She’s a mechanic like you, right? Where’s she working?”

  Nick took a deep breath. His youthful features were pinched together, his mouth turned downward like he was in physical pain. “That’s what she should be doing,” he said. “But she’s not. She’s working at Angels.”

  One of Sean’s eyebrows raised in a perfect arch. He knew the place. Maybe a little too well. Angels was Pine Ridge’s local “gentleman’s club”. It was a great place to hang out if you were a guy who liked drinking and watching hot, sexy women dance... among other things. While Nicki definitely rocked the Angels vibe, it was not the kind of place any man would want his sister to work.

  “Waitressing? Tending?” he suggested hopefully. The servers and tenders wore sexy uniforms, but they still wore something.

  Nick’s look said it all. “No.”

  Fuck. No question she had the body for it, but fuck. Men didn’t go to Angels with a lot of pure thoughts on their minds. And there were a hell of a lot of shiny poles and private rooms in the place. Still, if she was Nick’s twin, she was twenty-four. Definitely old enough to make her own decisions.

  “She’s a big girl, Nick.”

  “That’s exactly what she said,” Nick spit back, looking at Sean as if he was a rat bastard just for agreeing with her. “But she’s my sister.”

  “Yeah, I hear you.” Sean just met her and he was uncomfortable with the thought of her working there, bad girl image and all. The weirdest thing? For as badass as she was, there was something inherently feminine and fragile about her. Maybe it was her eyes, maybe it was her perfectly formed features, but it was there, and it had a powerful effect on his more visceral male instincts.

  Setting that thought aside – surely it was an effect of the unease he’d experienced all day - she was still something straight out of one of his darker fantasies, but those fantasies were his. The thought of sharing them with a crowd had him clenching his bottle so hard he feared shattering it in his hand. It made no sense whatsoever, but he refused to analyze it. Tonight was all about instinct, not logical reasoning, and he was going on his gut.