Wyatt agreed, and turned to go. A few steps later, he stopped and turned back to Darrell. He took a deep, rattling breath, as if to brace himself, and Kat’s heart skipped a beat.
“Darrell, my brother always wore his dog tags. He could’ve been buried with them. If you find them…” he trailed off, his face achingly sad. Kat wrapped her arms around him, giving him comfort as he’d done for her.
Darrell nodded once. “I’ll let you know right away,” he said sincerely.
Kat’s heart broke for Wyatt. She couldn’t imagine losing her sister, especially not to a man like McCready. She hoped, for Wyatt’s sake, that they didn’t find his brother’s body, buried here and forgotten. But maybe it was better to know. She vowed to ask him about it. But, first, she had to survive McCready. She steeled herself as they made their way back to the cars.
She had to enter the lion’s den, one last time.
Chapter 16
They arrived back at McCready’s mansion in separate cars. Wyatt parked his sedan around the back, hoping McCready hasn’t noticed their absence. How strict was he with regards to his team’s schedule? If Spider and Weston stayed out—like they did the night Wyatt took them drinking—was that against the rules?
Wyatt probably should have asked all that before heading out. Now, it was too late. Well, if McCready got mad, Wyatt would have to find a way to appease him.
He walked into the house through the patio doors and headed straight for the door to the garage. Kat was coming his way, glancing around as if she expected McCready to be waiting for her. She smiled when she saw it was Wyatt and his heart skipped a beat.
She really was beautiful, and her rare smiles made her even more so. Particularly when they were just for him.
She opened her mouth to say something, but a door opened behind Wyatt, interrupting her. Wyatt spun around.
McCready stepped from his office, tugging on the bottom of his rich purple suit jacket in a fake-casual way. He smoothed a hand over his slick hair, drawing out the suspense, before finally turning in Wyatt’s direction.
“Where have you been?” he asked, an edge of malice in his tone. Weston stepped out behind him, folding his arms across his chest and glaring menacingly. Had Weston seen them at the cemetery? Did McCready know they’d discovered his body dump site?
And if he did, why weren’t they dead yet?
Wyatt affected a relaxed posture. “Out and about. Why? I didn’t think I was a prisoner here.”
McCready eyed him with disdain. “You’re not, of course. But my crew needs to let me know where they are at all times. What if I’d needed you?”
Wyatt shrugged. “You could have called.”
The situation was deadly serious, but Wyatt hoped that by brushing it off, McCready would give up attempting to intimidate Wyatt and let him off with a warning. Weston looked like he was keen to do some damage, but Wyatt hoped he’d save it for when they were next in the ring.
McCready shifted. “Of course,” he said. “But I would like to know where you were.”
Wyatt sucked in a breath to reply, scrambling to think of a convincing lie or a way to deflect the question. He should have thought about this in more detail on the drive over, but he’d been so focused on getting back as quickly as possible.
Before Wyatt could say anything, Kat wrapped her arms around him from behind, planting her hands possessively against his chest. Her body was plastered against his back.
“Where do you think we were?” she purred, poking her head around his side to meet McCready’s gaze. Wyatt tried to suppress his surprise. She could switch on this sleazy sex-kitten thing so quickly, like she had when they’d pretended to make love last night. It must have been a survival mechanism for her, a way to manipulate men.
McCready narrowed his gaze at the two of them. “Is that so?”
Kat smiled. It didn’t reach her eyes, but it would have been convincing from where McCready stood. “Of course. You said to make him welcome. And, well, he requested my presence.” She made it sound like Wyatt had ordered her into his bed and he was mildly nauseated at the thought.
McCready’s gaze bounced between them, clearly searching for the lie. Wyatt kept his face carefully blank and blissful, as if he’d spent the last few hours getting thoroughly fucked by a beautiful woman.
“So you enjoyed his attentions last night, I take it?” McCready sneered.
Kat stiffened. “It’s never about what I want,” she hissed, stepping away from Wyatt. He immediately missed the warmth of her at his back. “Is it?”
Her stance was challenging as she stared McCready down. Wyatt’s heart leapt to his throat. What the hell was she doing? Trying to get herself killed?
Wyatt stepped forward without even thinking, his instincts screaming at him to get between Kat and McCready. But apparently her defiance had been the exact reaction McCready had expected. Because he did something Wyatt hadn’t anticipated.
He laughed.
And with his laughter, he relaxed. And then Weston slumped. And finally the tension left Wyatt’s body.
“You’re a good little soldier, Kat, aren’t you?” McCready’s voice was slightly mocking, but not in a way that implied he didn’t believe her.
Kat stared at her boss for a long moment. “I’ll do whatever it takes to go home,” she said in a soft voice. To McCready’s mind, this obviously meant fucking the new guy to keep both him and McCready happy. But Wyatt knew she was referring to the steps she’d take to destroy McCready.
Wyatt’s heart swelled with pride for Kat. She was so brave, standing up to the man who’d given her hell for the last five years.
McCready grinned at her and stepped aside. “I’ll hold you to that.”
Kat strode forward as if to pass McCready. When she drew level with McCready, she paused. Looking McCready dead in the eye, she smiled her sweetest smile.
McCready frowned, not knowing what to make of it. Even when Kat resumed moving and headed along the corridor, McCready’s eyes stayed on her, his expression a mask of confusion.
Wyatt knew what that smile meant. It was a promise.
A promise to destroy McCready.
Wyatt smirked, buoyant, and followed Kat down the corridor. He didn’t bother looking at McCready, knowing nothing he could say or do would top Kat’s wordless vow.
They made it back to Kat’s room without saying anything. Wyatt glanced at the camera on the ceiling. The red light switched on as he was looking at it, and Wyatt frowned. Was McCready watching them?
He couldn’t ask Kat, in case he was, so instead he turned to her and smiled. “McCready hasn’t given me a room yet, so—”
Kat gripped his hand. “Stay,” she whispered, her voice low and trembling with something Wyatt couldn’t name. He smiled and tugged her closer until he could circle an arm around her waist. He kissed her forehead softly.
“You couldn’t keep me away.”
They got ready for bed, conscious McCready could be watching their every step and listening to their every word. A creeping sensation came over Wyatt, a self-consciousness that came with the knowledge there was someone watching and judging every move he made.
Eventually, they got into bed and Kat switched off the light. Wyatt stayed on his side of the bed, unsure how Kat would react his touch. He wanted to hold her, all through the night. He wanted to make love to her, too, but McCready watching them killed the mood. Soon, they’d be free of his clutches, and Wyatt could tell her how he felt. That he wanted her in his life, in his bed.
But even though they were in this intimate scene, it wasn’t the time to talk about the future. The low light, the sound of her breathing next to him, the soft warmth of his skin. It was distracting, and tempting.
Wyatt lay on his back, and imagined they were in a better place.
They were woken by a loud crash thundering through the room.
Wyatt had wrapped himself around Kat while he slept, and his first instinct was to roll her off the bed and flatten h
imself on top of her to protect her. Good thing he did, because seconds after they moved a gunshot exploded and then the bullet hit the mattress with a thud.
Kat was breathing hard, almost sobbing, but she was unharmed. Wyatt blinked the sleep from his eyes and glanced over the edge of the mattress.
Weston and Spider stood by the bed, fury etched on their faces. Weston raised his gun to point directly at Wyatt’s head, finger tightening on the trigger.
“We heard the gravedigger has been arrested. I wonder whose fault that it,” Weston hissed. He fired.
Wyatt dived back behind the bed as the bullet flew past, grazing the back of his head.
He grunted as the sharp pain rocketed through him.
“Wyatt!” Kat cried out.
He blinked, clearing his mind of the pain. “I’m okay,” he reassured her. But blood trickled down his back and his cheek, dripping onto her chest.
Her eyes were wide with panic, but Wyatt couldn’t think about that now. Spider and Weston were rounding the bed, their footsteps muffled by the carpet. They took their time, clearly not concerned Kat and Wyatt might escape.
Wyatt’s heart pounded in fear. Not for himself, but for Kat. He couldn’t lose her. Not when he’d finally found a woman who affected him the way she did. Not before they had a chance to see where their chemistry might take them. And he couldn’t let her be killed when she was so close to freedom from this place.
He’d die before he let that happen.
Wyatt pushed Kat under the bed, shuffling her until she was completely invisible. He pressed his lips against her ear.
“Get out the other side of the bed, out the door, then run. Find Darrell. I’ll distract them.”
He pulled back to study her face. Stark terror was written across her features. She shook her head, denying his words, but there was no time to argue.
Spider and Weston came into view, and Wyatt focused all his attention on them.
Weston raised his gun, pointing it directly between Wyatt’s eyes.
Wyatt kicked out from his position on the floor and the gun went flying. It clattered against the wall. Weston turned on Wyatt with intense fury in his gaze and dove straight for him. Wyatt rolled out of the way and gained his feet, bringing his hands up in a fighting stance. His head swam from the sudden manoeuvre, the blood trail on his head changing direction to follow gravity.
He blinked and focused, ready before Spider took a swing at him. Wyatt ducked, but he was oddly slow, and the blow barely missed him. He punched back, into Spider’s solar plexus. The big man grunted, but otherwise didn’t seem affected. Wyatt went for another punch, this time at his face, but Spider caught his wrist before he could connect.
Behind him, Weston levered to his feet. Without thinking, Wyatt lashed out with a side kick, striking him in the gut. Weston fell back onto the bedside table, and it rattled alarmingly under his weight.
Spider still held his right wrist, so Wyatt head-butted him. A mistake, because his aching head protested the clash and a fierce headache throbbed all through his skull.
Two against one. The odds weren’t great. Wyatt had to get out of here before he was killed.
Spider threw a punch, and Wyatt ducked again. At the same time he whipped his leg around and slapped Weston across the face with his foot. He straightened, his back now to Spider, and his wrist in Spider’s grip. He pulled Spider’s arm forward until his elbow was even with Wyatt’s shoulder, then he yanked the arm down hard.
A loud crack rent the air and Spider let out a yowl of pain. Wyatt had broken his arm.
Spider stumbled back, so Wyatt focused on Weston. He kicked the man in the face to buy himself some time, then leapt over the bed and ran for the door.
He crashed into Kat in the corridor, the two of them nearly toppling over in a tangle of limbs. Wyatt managed to keep his feet and dragged Kat along the corridor even before he regained his balance.
“I thought I told you to run?” he asked over his shoulder.
“You really thought I’d leave you?” she countered.
Wyatt didn’t have the time or the breath to argue, but a smile slipped across his face at her words.
He towed her in the direction of the patio door, to where he’d parked his sedan, but she pulled hard on his arm to stop him.
“No,” she gasped. “The garage.”
Wyatt stared at her in confusion.
“We won’t outrun a Lamborghini in your car,” she explained.
She was right. Wyatt changed direction, charging off towards the garage. When they got there, Kat ripped the keys off the wall and ran towards the Ferrari. She clicked it open and then tossed Wyatt the keys. He slid into the driver’s seat and switched the car on.
As the engine roared to life, Spider and Weston burst into the garage.
Wyatt threw the car into gear and stomped on the accelerator. The car lurched forward, immediately gaining speed in the short space. The front of the car crashed into the roll-up door of the garage and burst through the other side, the twisted metal scraping the pristine paint job of the red Ferrari. The front of the car was a bit crumbled from the impact, but the car still handled perfectly.
It leapt down the long driveway, flying like the wind. Wyatt had never driven a car like this at full speed and his heart pounded in exhilaration.
Even before they reached the gate to McCready’s property, two cars exited the garage behind them, this time after rolling the garage door up and out of the way. The orange Lamborghini was first, followed by the yellow one. No doubt it was Spider and Weston.
Wyatt turned left out of the gate and roared along the road. The side street was wide, empty, and well lit, not a surprise given the upper-class neighbourhood.
Wyatt turned the wheel at the last second, careening around a corner. The engine strained at the too-fast turn, but Wyatt held steady and managed not to spin out. He gunned the engine and sped off. Behind him, the two Lamborghinis skidded on the unexpected turn, bumping into each other. They righted themselves in time and Wyatt cursed as they gained on him.
“Where will we go?” Kat asked desperately.
“I don’t know,” Wyatt gritted out, then took another corner. He glanced at her. She looked frightened, her face pale, but her eyes were determined. Again, pride swelled within Wyatt. He could easily love this woman.
“We have to lose them first,” he continued. He focused back on the road. He had to either lose them…or make them crash.
Wyatt turned onto a main street. Despite the late—or early—hour, there were still cars on this well-trafficked thoroughfare. Wyatt dodged the Ferrari around the other cars, who honked aggressively as he passed. He was suddenly glad for all those defensive driving courses he’d taken as a cop.
He weaved through the minimal traffic. Behind him, the two Lamborghinis did the same. Wyatt let them get closer, easing off the gas slightly. His heart pounded as he waited for the right moment. His gaze darted between the road in front of him and the rearview mirror.
A turn appeared. Wyatt waited until the last second before he spun his wheel. The two cars behind him scrambled to follow.
But Wyatt had timed it perfectly. As he sailed through the intersection, a black SUV sped through his green light, narrowly missing the Ferrari. But the lead Lamborghini wasn’t so lucky. The SUV plowed into its side. Wyatt’s heart leapt as the orange metal crumpled beneath the SUV’s superior weight.
In the rearview mirror, he witnessed the Lamborghini get crushed between the SUV and a lamp post. Before anyone would have had time to exit the car—before it had even come to a complete stop—the car exploded in a ball of fire.
Wyatt gripped the steering wheel as the car rocked. Next to him, Kat gasped and clapped her hand over her mouth, peering out the back window at the fiery blaze. Wyatt slowed the car, since the other Lamborghini was still sitting in the intersection, where the driver had braked to avoid the SUV.
The driver stepped out of the car. From his size, Wyatt knew it was W
eston.
Which meant Spider had been in the car that had exploded. For a brief second, Wyatt almost pitied the guy. It couldn’t be a pleasant way to go. But given who Spider was and what he’d done, Wyatt couldn’t bring himself to regret his actions.
The fire was spreading to the SUV now. Weston ignored the driver of that car as he hurried past, towards Spider.
Wyatt held his breath for a moment, until the driver’s side of the SUV swung open and a man fell out onto the pavement. After gasping for breath for a second, he got to his feet and stumbled as far from the inferno as he could.
“We need to go,” Kat said, eyes still on the roaring flames.
Wyatt studied her face for a moment. He saw no fear, no regret. Just a matter-of-factness, and maybe a hint of satisfaction. Wyatt breathed out a sigh of relief. If Kat had condemned him for killing Spider…
Well, he didn’t need to think about that now.
Instead, he threw the car into gear and sped off through the night.
Chapter 17
Wyatt pulled up out the front of the same bar he’d taken Spider and Weston to. Kat shivered at the thought of the two men. Spider was most likely dead, and Weston would be out for vengeance.
But Kat couldn’t regret what she and Wyatt had done. Spider had deserved punishment for what he’d done to her, to the other girls, and what he’d nearly done to Ruthie. Maybe that made her cold and heartless. Maybe it was a sign she was broken beyond repair. But all Kat could think about when she thought of Spider being dead was good.
“What are we doing here?” she asked, staring up at the flickering neon sign.
“You’ll see,” Wyatt replied, opening his door and stepping out into the cool night. He was still only in the track pants she’d given him to sleep in, his bare chest on display. Kat took a second to admire his sculpted athlete’s muscles by the light of the floodlights before she, too, left the car. She clutched her phone to her stomach, which she’d grabbed while Wyatt had been fighting Weston and Spider.
Undercover Fighter Page 14