The Maxwell Series Boxed Set: Books 1-3

by Alexander, S. B.

  I dialed Dad’s number. With every ring, my heart beat harder against my ribs and the buzzing in my head grew louder. On the fifth ring, a loud boom rang through the night.

  My brain went blank, and my body was in motion almost before I realized it. I dropped my phone and sprinted into the house.

  Chapter 38

  Kade

  I didn’t know why I’d agreed to work for Mr. Robinson. I hated the club scene. The place stank of sweat, booze, and cigarettes. The signs that hung on the wall above the mirror over the bar warned that there was no smoking.

  I carried a large bucket of ice from the storeroom to the bar. Kid Rock pumped from the overhead speakers, not loud, since the Red Sox game was on. The club didn’t perk up until about eleven every night. Until then, local patrons floated in to drink and watch their favorite sports team. Once the band set up, the old timers found their way out while the younger crowd drifted in.

  I dumped the ice into the silver bin next to the bar sink.

  Leo, the tattooed bartender, who was flipping the cap off a bottle of Coors, said, “Thanks, man.”

  “Do you ever take a night off?” I asked. Since I’d been working there, I’d never seen the man not tending bar.

  “Come on, Kade. You’ve been here at the height of the hour. What better way to meet some fine chicks? Or are you blind and celibate?”

  “Dude, seriously?” I shut the lid to the ice bin. Granted, I’d seen one or two pretty girls, but none who compared to Lacey.

  Leo placed the bottle of Coors in front of a guy in a black business suit. “I need the money, and I need to get laid. Two things crucial to a guy’s survival.”

  I’d go crazy if I spent every day in a bar. I liked the awesome bands, but the sweat-soaked bodies, couples on the dance floor gyrating together as if they were having sex, and the smell of the puke from people who couldn’t handle their liquor wasn’t what I would call fun. Thankfully, the job was only temporary until Mr. Robinson had time to search for a permanent hire.

  The businessman chuckled. “He’s got a point.”

  The only part of what Leo said that had resonated with me was the getting laid part.

  “What’s wrong, dude? You bat for the other team?” Leo asked, swiping a towel off the sink.

  “Fuck you, man.” My phone vibrated, and I fished it out of my pocket. Glancing at Hunt’s name on the screen, I said to Leo, “I got to take this.” I pivoted on my heel and wound my way into the hall from the bar. “What’s up?”

  “Hey, I have Wes here with me, and you’re on speaker,” Hunt said. “Where’s Lacey?” Unease wove through his words.

  “She’s hanging out with friends at Wiley’s. Why?” Dread squeezed my throat.

  “If you recall, I told you Weeks had three ex-wives,” Wes said. “The day Lacey was kidnapped, I also mentioned my team was still digging into Weeks’s background. Well, we may have found how Lorenzino knew James had the ledger. Weeks has a seventeen-year-old son, Barry, who’s been living with him. So, I contacted Detective Fisher to reach out to the ex-wives who live in LA. One of them confirmed her son was living with Weeks. She described him as having blond curly hair and hazel eyes. I’m waiting on a picture.”

  Fuck me. I punched the wall. Pain shot up my arm, but I welcomed it to keep myself grounded in the moment. I flexed my fingers a few times then dug around in my front pocket for my keys, storming down the hall to the back exit.

  “Kade, Kade!” Hunt’s deep voice blared through the phone.

  I slammed my hand on the metal bar and pushed open the heavy door. The muggy night air enhanced the sweat beading on me. I jogged to my truck, jumped in, and started the engine. When I did, my Bluetooth connected.

  “Kade, are you there?” Hunt’s panicked voice came through the truck’s speakers.

  “I’m in my truck. I’m headed back to Ashford.” My voice sounded calm even though my stomach was twisted into a big fucking knot of fear.

  “I know that description sounds a lot like that new guy at school, Shaun Spears, but we don’t know for sure,” Hunt said.

  “I’m not taking any chances. Her text earlier said she was meeting Shaun at Wiley’s. The dude hangs around her all the time.” Fuck if I wasn’t going to be there to protect my girl. “I got to call Lacey.”

  I slowed to a stop at the red light on the corner outside Rumors. I dialed Lacey’s number, and it rang, and rang, and rang until her voicemail picked up. “Lace, baby. I need you to call me as soon as you get this message,” I said as calmly as I could. I hung up. Dialed again. Again, the line went to her voicemail. I waited a minute and tried one more time. If I kept calling and she didn’t pick up, I’d drive myself crazier than I already felt.

  The light finally changed to green. I gunned on the gas, turned left, and made my way toward Lacey’s as fast as I could behind cars that were slowing to let people cross the street and through more traffic lights. I dialed Mr. Robinson’s cell phone. He was flying in from California today, and he should’ve been home by now. The line rang repeatedly until it connected to his voicemail. I tried the house phone. No answer.

  “Fuck.” I banged on the steering wheel.

  My next phone call was to my father. I knew he was home, and if he saw it was me calling, he’d pick up. He was the closest to Lacey’s and Wiley’s. My brothers were in Boston, and I didn’t want to worry or bother them.

  He answered on the first ring. “Hey, son.”

  “I need your help, Dad. Remember that guy, Dennis Weeks? He has a son who’s been living with him. If it’s who I think it is, he’s been hanging around with Lacey. He’s at Wiley’s with her. Can you get over there? I’m at least fifty minutes out.”

  “Slow down, Kade. You’re not making much sense.”

  “Dad, please? I’m worried. He might want to hurt Lacey. His father killed her family. Why would he stay here? What if he wants revenge for his father’s death?” I gripped the steering wheel so fucking hard my hands were vibrating.

  I heard a beep through the phone. “I’m getting in my car. Wiley’s is fifteen minutes away at the most. Have you tried calling her?”

  “Yes. No answer. I even tried Mr. Robinson. I’ll try calling Becca or Tyler or Renee. They were supposed to be with her. Call me when you get there?”

  “Son, as hard as this may be, I want you to take a breath and get here safely. I’ve seen too many soldiers die in battle because they panicked. You’re not helping anyone if you get hurt, and you could also hurt someone else if you get into an accident. Now, I’ve got this. I’ll call you when I get there. Understood?”

  Calm wasn’t remotely possible at that moment, but he was right. “Yes, sir.” I pressed the end button on the steering wheel, only to press the call button immediately.

  “Call Tyler.” Even though it still ate at me that he loved Lacey, I knew he’d watch out for her.

  One ring. Two. Three.

  Pick up. Pick up. I eased up on the gas, slowing my speed from ninety to seventy. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt someone else.

  On the fifth ring, the line connected. “Hello.”

  Thank God. “Tyler, is Lacey with you? Are you still at Wiley’s?”

  “Dude, what’s wrong? You sound like—”

  “Is she with you?” I didn’t give a fuck what I sounded like.

  “No. We finished dinner about thirty minutes ago.”

  “So she’s not with Shaun either?” I held my breath.

  “No. He didn’t stay for dinner. Something came up with his father.”

  Shaun could’ve been waiting for Lacey outside the restaurant and kidnapped her. I wasn’t going to breathe easily until I knew Lacey was safe.

  I barely said thanks as I hung up. Rage and fear were a lethal combination, not only for me but for Shaun. If he so m
uch as touched her, I was going to kill him. I knew I was jumping to conclusions. I also knew there was a remote chance I had the wrong person. But I knew my gut wasn’t wrong.

  Chapter 39

  Lacey

  I plowed through the door in between the garage and the kitchen, my pulse slamming in my ears and my head buzzing. “Dad!”

  Please don’t be dead. Please don’t be dead.

  The house was eerily quiet. I knew I hadn’t imagined the sound of a gun going off. I scanned the kitchen and the sunken family room from where I stood near the refrigerator, thankful for the full moon and its light spraying in from the windows in the breakfast nook. After a sweep of both rooms, all the air I’d been holding in came rushing out in relief that there weren’t any dead bodies.

  “Dad!” I called again.

  Buzz. Slam. Buzz. Slam. That was the sound in my head—a foreboding tune.

  I walked around the island to the wall between the family room and kitchen and snatched the first thing I could find—a frying pan that had been sitting on the stove. Gripping the handle like a baseball bat, I continued to the light switch. Broken glass crunched beneath my flats. When I turned the lights on, a shadow skated across the floor.

  Icy fear washed through my veins, and that tune in my head reached a crescendo. The edges of my vision blackened. I dug deep within me to stay in the moment. I had to find Dad. My body wasn’t listening. My breathing was off. I shook my head back and forth, but no matter what I did, neither the fog nor the noise was fading. The head shaking only served to make me dizzy. I stumbled and caught onto a barstool to steady myself. The pan banged against the stool, severing the deadly silence that had filled every corner of the house.

  The shadow grew, emerging from the family room and growing into a body—a male body that was pointing a shotgun at me. “Glad you could join us. Do you like how I set the scene for you?”

  I clenched my eyes shut then opened them. I was in a dream. I had to be. Otherwise why would Shaun be standing in my house with a weapon and a bloodthirsty expression on his face?

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” he said. “Let me introduce myself. My name is Barry Weeks.”

  A nervous laugh escaped me. “Come again?” I sounded like I’d just inhaled a tank of helium.

  “You heard me. I’ve been waiting weeks to get my revenge.” Disdain rang through his voice.

  The frying pan became heavy in my hands as I tried to meld Shaun the gentleman with Barry the hungry revenge-seeking stranger. “Revenge?”

  “Lacey, you’re a smart girl.” He kept the gun steady, the barrel aimed directly at my chest. “But let me spell it out. You killed Dennis Weeks. My father.”

  Sweat broke out at the base of my neck. “Your father? I didn’t kill anyone.” I had to do something other than stand there like a human flypaper. I pushed off the stool, hoping I could walk without crumpling. “Your father killed my mother and sister.” I rolled back my shoulders and raised the frying pan as though I was standing in the batter’s box.

  Shaun’s lips curled into a diabolical grin as he stood near the breakfast nook, the glow from the moon displaying his new features. Gone were the shaggy blond hair, quiet demeanor, and friendly personality. I was now in the presence of a predator with slicked-back hair tied at his nape into a short ponytail. He wore black gloves, black jeans, black boots, and a black T-shirt like he thought he was some cool cat burglar.

  “I’ve always liked your spunk, Lacey. I particularly enjoyed the show you put on at your boyfriend’s party. But tonight, I’ll be the star of the show.” He moved forward. “I’ll never see my father again because of you.”

  My heart thumped fast and furious as my brain thawed. “So, you were helping your father? You were Lorenzino’s source? How did you know my father had the ledger?”

  He stopped three feet from me, gun ready. “I didn’t. I overheard your conversation with your dad that day you, me, and Becca were sitting in the courtyard. You said something like you hoped the ledger was in the box.”

  Suddenly, I remembered the conversation between Becca and me before Shaun had sat down with us. Becca had said that he’d seemed attached to us.

  “You’ve been stalking me the whole time?”

  “It’s time to end this. An eye for an eye.” He closed the distance between us.

  I swung the frying pan. It dinged off the gun, sending a vibration up my arm before the pan crashed to the floor.

  His expression was caustic with a hint of smugness shining through as he pressed the shotgun into my chest. The cold metal awakened my subconscious, reminding me of advice Coach Dean had once given me. Facing your fears scares the demons away. If I was ever to overcome my fear of the dark and get past my PTSD, now was the time. I couldn’t stand around waiting for that gun to go off. I had to find my dad.

  I puffed out my chest. “So you’re here for revenge?” I shifted my glance from his narrowed gaze to the block of knives on the counter near the stove. I shuffled toward it.

  With a quick turn of his head, he followed my line of sight. “You think those knives are going to overpower a shotgun?” He laughed, low and lethal.

  “Where’s my dad?” I swallowed, but it was more of a loud gulp.

  He laughed again, raising the hairs on my arms. “Daddy is taken care of. Now it’s your turn.”

  I sucked in a sharp breath and halted in my tracks. The buzzing in my head was as loud as a jet engine. The room grew darker as my body quivered. I wobbled before my legs gave out. Tiny pinpricks of pain poked into my hands and knees as I tried to push upright. Pain seized the leg where Shaun’s father had stabbed me. I sat on my haunches as I pulled a shard of glass from my knee.

  Shaun set the barrel of the gun underneath my chin and guided my head upward. His mouth moved, but I couldn’t hear him. Tears pricked my eyes.

  Get ahold of yourself. Stand up. Dry your tears, and do something about this jerk. I didn’t have any weapons. I had nothing to fight with except my body and a small piece of glass. Then fight. Outsmart him. Use your self-defense training. Do something other than sit on your ass and wait to die. Your father wouldn’t want you to give up, and neither would your mom and sister. There’d been too many deaths, too many tears, too many nightmares.

  I held the shard of glass in one hand, planted the other on the floor, and pushed to my feet, the gun still firmly pressed underneath my chin. I had no idea of my next move. Keep him talking, and think. Self-defense wouldn’t help against a weapon. Why not? Go for his balls. At least a hit to his groin would slow him down long enough for you to get out.

  Once I was standing on shaky legs, I released a quiet breath, and with it some of the buzzing dissipated. I could stick the glass into his leg to slow him down.

  “Pathetic. You’re making this too easy.” His voice sounded muffled.

  Something thumped somewhere in the house.

  Shaun flinched, and I took the opportunity to kick him in the crotch. He bent over and groaned loudly. As he did, I drove the glass shard into his thigh.

  “Fuck,” he said through gritted teeth.

  I tore out of the room, running down the hallway. “Dad! Dad!”

  A beacon of light spilled out into the hall from the glass-enclosed sunroom. Again, I was grateful for the moonlit night.

  “Lacey.” Shaun said my name as if it tasted like rotten fish. Then two clicks sounded, sending severe chills down my spine.

  I went rigid, one foot in front of the other, my heart jackhammering. Slowly, tentatively, I pivoted to face the creep.

  “Now, running wasn’t nice.” He stalked forward, his face contorted in pain as his eyes flashed with fury.

  “This isn’t either.” I dove into the sunroom.

  A blast rang out.

  Chapter 40

  Kade

  I drov
e up to Lacey’s house, slamming on the brakes right behind her Mustang. Her car door was open, and the headlights were shining on a scene that reminded me of something out of a horror movie. Pure raw panic set up camp in my gut as I took inventory of the house and its surroundings. Her father’s car was in front of hers. The garage doors were wide open, and the house was as dark as the midnight sky. From where I sat, all I could think was that no one was alive in there. When the hum of a car engine reached my ears, I flew out of my truck, not bothering to close my door.

  My old man pulled in. I’d called him back after I’d hung up with Tyler. I jogged up to his door and opened it.

  “I just got here. Things don’t look good. The house is never dark.” I chomped on one side of my cheek then the other, fighting like hell to keep my nerves under control, but something worse than fear darted through me. It felt as if someone had taken a knife and was carving out my soul.

  Suddenly, a faint sound of someone grunting caused me to jerk my head up. “Did you hear that?” I started for the house.

  “Kade, wait.” My old man’s voice was firm but calm. “I called the police. They said someone called not that long ago about hearing what sounded like a gunshot. They already dispatched a patrol car.” He bent over, opened his glove compartment, and removed a Glock, then another. He handed me the one without the flashlight attachment as he climbed out of his car. He snatched two clips from the back pocket of his jeans then gave me one. “Let’s give them two minutes. But just in case, only use the gun if necessary.”

  Necessary? Was he looking at the same dark house I was? Everything about the atmosphere screamed necessary, especially if I found Lacey… If I did, I’d go off half-cocked. Then people would die.

  I took the clip and inserted it into the magazine shaft until it clicked into place. I pulled back on the slide then released it, allowing it to spring forward into position. My father did the same.