by Scott, Kylie
“There’s no need to take this so personally, Helene.”
“Do you agree to my terms?”
A soft laugh echoes through the line. “Of course. My people will be in touch.”
The line went dead.
“I feel like I’m dealing with a fucking Bond villain,” Helene says, and sighs. “Honestly, to have it all come to this.”
“You don’t honestly believe this fucker, do you?” asks Bear.
“Not in the slightest. Make no mistake, he’ll be coming in hard for all of us with a small army and lots of guns.”
Fox crosses her arms, leaning against the wall. “Then why the games?”
“Why did I just prick that massive blowhard’s ego? Tell him I’d count it as a victory if I never see him again? Because now he has to put the bullet in me himself. He won’t settle for anything less than looking me in the eyes as he pulls the trigger,” says Helene. “After his people have cleared the way, of course. This is the best chance we have to get a shot at him and put an end to all of this.”
Thoughtful silence met her pronouncement. Not that I contributed to the general thoughtfulness. I was basically just a lot scared and doing my best to hide this fact.
“Wolf, how long would you guess we have?” she asks eventually.
My fiancé straightens. “Hard to say. A few hours at least. Or they could string us out, try and wear us down a little. They’ve got superior numbers and can choose the timing. So maybe they’ll wait until well after midnight and try to catch us tired or with our guard down.”
“If Scorpion’s in charge?” asks Crow.
“Then she’ll want to settle in and see what we’re up to before making a move. She’s cautious; it’s what’s kept her alive so long, made her such a good operator,” says Thom. “We got lucky last night, stumbling into her hit like that. Doubt we’ll get the drop on her a second time.”
The sinking feeling in my stomach turns into an endless void. Thom’s gaze meets mine across the room, and I try for a smile. Given the grim look on his face, my lips have failed me big-time.
Fox looks to heaven with a sigh. “Shit’s going to hit the fan again, yadda yadda. We all know it. So what’s the plan? Because I’m done with these assholes taking potshots at us.”
“First up, clear all of the weapons out of the safe room and then, Helene, you and Betty are in there until it’s safe to come out.”
Their boss beats me to “oh hell no” by like half a second.
“No, I’m not,” she says. “You need all the shooters you can get, and I’ll have you know I was quite the markswoman in my day. If I can take a duck on the wing at two hundred yards, then I’m quite capable of putting a bullet through Archie’s smug face.”
“What she said,” I add. “Apart from the markswoman thing. But I can point and shoot. You all saw that much.”
Thom’s lips thin, the man clearly unhappy and about to argue with us hardcore.
“This isn’t up for discussion, Wolf,” snaps Helene. “If I’m not visible then Archie won’t bother risking himself and entering the firefight, which is our one chance of surviving this. None of this goes away until he’s dead. Charles is safe from all of this for now. He’s your backup plan in case anything happens to me.” Her chin gets higher and higher. I don’t think she’s used to anyone so much as attempting to tell her what to do. “While I appreciate your wish to keep me alive and kicking, stopping that little prick comes first.”
He sighs. “Fine. However, you’re both down in the basement until we’ve got the initial assault under control. Then I’ll reassess the situation. But only once we’ve downed the bulk of their force will we make our play. Crow, you’re our expert on the long gun. I want you up on the widow’s walk picking off everything you can. Bear, you take the road approach. Fox, you’ve got the waterfront.”
Crow raises his hand. “I brought claymores.”
“Love me some explosives. Good work. Knew I liked you for a reason,” says Thom. “All right, let’s get busy.”
Everyone disperses, off to do who knows what home protection work. Fox starts grilling Helene about the security system, the location of any hardware including gardening tools, and the location of any and all access points. Given this isn’t a place Helene spends quality time, they then go off on a tour of the house. Bear and Crow, meanwhile, start unpacking and prepping enough guns and knives to kill an army.
“I can still get you out of here.” Thom stands at my side. “I’m serious, Betty.”
“Don’t. I’m not going anywhere.” I sigh. “What can I do to help?”
His face is somber. “Make sure all the windows are locked and curtains drawn. We need this place locked down tight.”
“Okay. What gun should I take?”
He picks up a small pistol, placing it in my hand with a grim expression. “Helene will be right beside you. Follow her lead. Don’t point your gun until she does. Don’t pull the trigger until she does.”
“Okay.”
“I mean it,” he says. “Otherwise the chances are you’ll accidentally hit one of us. I’d rather die in your arms than in your crosshairs.”
“Fair enough.”
“So you stay in the basement, safe and sound.” He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. It’s a tender, sweet thing for him to do. In fact, this whole moment fits that description, despite the weaponry.
My lungs feel leaden all of a sudden; my heart beats double time. The look in his eyes as he gazes down at me is everything I could have asked for. Everything I’d given up hoping I’d ever get from this man. And now here he is, giving it to me in spades. I do my best to memorize this, to commit it to memory for all time. Because, the truth is, we may very well not have many of these moments left, care of Archie and his goon squad.
“Pretty sure you said the same thing when you left me to go to Helene’s hotel,” I say in my ever so slightly sarcastic tone of voice. “Just F.Y.I..”
“Let’s not have a repeat of last night.” He kisses my forehead. “Hand to God, babe, you nearly gave me a heart attack.”
Nearly gave myself a heart attack too. But I don’t say that.
“Promise me you’ll keep your badass self in the basement for now, out of sight, okay?”
“Okay. Fine.” I shrug. “You’re going to be careful, aren’t you?”
“I’m always careful. I love you, you know?”
“You keep saying that.”
He gives me the smallest of smiles. “Just making sure you believe me this time around.”
And I don’t know what to say. Especially not when he’s looking at me this way. The subtle shift of his features leaves me with no doubt that he knows all about the war going on inside me. Heart versus head and all that. My feelings for him are far from simple, but I’m not quite sure they’re what he wants from me yet—assuming he wants me to say the same to him in return, as is tradition. “Thom…”
He blinks. “I better get to work.”
And the blink is the only indication that I’ve struck a nerve, and hurt him by delaying saying it back. And wounding Thom in any way pretty much feels like driving a knife through my own heart.
I’m honestly stunned. It’s a revelation. If this doesn’t answer the do-I-or-don’t-I-love-him question then nothing ever will.
Only he’s already gone.
I’m just standing there staring after him like an absolute certified idiot. One who wants to kick herself for not saying it back right away, for not taking the risk and jumping, trusting he’d catch me. Now he’s in a deep discussion with Bear, words like “perimeter” and “defense” being thrown around.
The moment’s gone and, like everyone else, I guess I have a job to do. Or I could be honest and admit that I don’t have the guts to pull him aside right now or just cut the shit and say it in front of other people. To wear my heart on my sleeve in front of an audience of operatives. Regardless of us potentially facing a messy and violent death soon, deep down, I’m apparentl
y still an emotional scaredy-cat. This is beyond disappointing.
But if Thom can be brave enough to put his heart on the line, then so can I. He deserves nothing less.
Shoulders back, tits out. After being labeled a badass, the least I can do is rise to the occasion emotions-wise. I’ll get another chance alone with him to ’fess up before everything hits the fan. Hell, I’ll move heaven and earth to make sure of it.
CHAPTER NINE
“Thom?”
He turns away from one of the living room windows. Behind him, a dazzling golden sunset lights up the yard. It casts the kind of perfect lighting that only comes along every once and a while. At his feet, an equally dazzling and dangerous array of firepower awaits, spread out on the Oriental rug. “Babe. Hey. You okay?”
“Yes. I um…” I cocked my head, taking in the weird tool in his hand. “What are you doing?”
“Cutting holes in the glass to fire through,” he explains. “Less obvious and messy than breaking the windows.”
“You think it’ll make a difference?”
“Everything we can do to come out on top is worth trying. If this gives us an extra moment or two before they know where we’re firing from, then, yeah, it could make a difference.”
I nod. “That makes sense.”
“Glad you approve.”
Oh. My. God. He’s making a tiny smirk and it’s the absolute cutest. Man, I have it bad. My stomach does some intense swooping thing. Like my nerves needed any more help. I rub my sweaty palms on the sides of my jeans. Pretty sure I had more game in middle school than I have now.
Inside, the house is all shadows. Only a few lights strategically placed down low are on. If you didn’t know better, you’d think the place was deserted. Which is exactly the image we’re going for. We’ve been reorganizing the furniture to cover exits or slow down anyone trying to gain entrance via the doors and windows.
All of us have done our best to help turn the cottage into a fort. And while movie montages involving prep for battle are usually exciting, I’m here to tell you they’re not. There was no dynamic music for starters, and my back hurts from lugging a jade coffee table into position. In truth, the whole getting-organized-before-the-big-action-scene thing is actually just really hard work.
“What’s wrong?” he asks. “You haven’t changed your mind about being here, have you?”
“Huh? No, not at all.”
He exhales in relief. Guess getting me out this late in the day would be a big problem. I am, however, sticking by his side.
“But I, ah…I have something to tell you,” I say.
At this, he sets down the tool, giving me his complete attention. And not that this isn’t an important moment and all, but I can’t help be distracted by how he looks. Thom wears a black long-sleeved Henley under a bulletproof vest like nobody’s business. All of the rippling of muscles in his arms, care of the way the fabric lovingly molds to his body, is awe inspiring. My hormones do a giddy dance. I basically just want to plant my face in the middle of his chest and hide for a while. Maybe forever. But I’m a woman on a mission.
“Okay.” He crosses his arms. “I’m listening. Then, after you’ve said your thing, you need to go put on your vest and stay in the basement with Helene.”
“Right, I’ll do that. But what I wanted to say is…” Honest to God, I’m about to tell him. About to say the big L word to someone outside of my immediate friends and family for the very first time.
Only, then I see a little black thingy discreetly tucked into his ear.
“Thom, can other people hear this conversation?”
“They’re not interested in listening to us.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
Just then, his gaze shoots to heaven and he holds a hand up to his ear. “Shut up, Bear. Go shit in the woods or something.”
Chuckles drift down through the hole in the window. I think they’re coming from a northerly direction. As in, above our heads. “Is that Crow up on top of the house?”
“Yeah. We’re getting into position just in case.”
“Can you possibly turn that thing off for a minute?”
“Sorry, babe. Just a sec.” He does the slightly furrowed brow thing well too. “Thank you, Fox. I’m aware there’s no time for fornicating just now. But I do appreciate your feedback.”
“Fornicating?”
Thom shakes his head. For all his “there’s no friends in this business” rhetoric, the man clearly enjoys having people he trusts and likes at his back. Which is nice. “Sorry. Apparently we’re all reverting to twelve-year-old humor to alleviate tension. What were you going to say?”
And I have an audience. A big fucking audience for my big fucking feelings. My stomach pretty much falls through the floor. “Oh. Um. Later is fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. It can wait.” Because as much as I like his friends, there’s no way I’m vowing my eternal love to him under these conditions. Especially with them all in such a comedic mood. Nope. Not going to happen. The coward in me rises, once again victorious. Ugh.
Suddenly, there’s the pop pop pop of gunfire.
The window where Thom was standing shatters. He’s already in motion. His arm swings out to tackle me, taking us both to the ground. Holy hell.
“Confirmed contact, I know,” he responds to whoever is talking to him through the earpiece. “Tell me you’ve got eyes on them…multiple hostiles. Roger that.”
He quiets and listens, his body half on top of mine and his arm around me tight. From overhead comes the sound of Crow returning fire. And from one of the kitchen windows facing the waterfront, Fox does the same. Bear is outside somewhere, no doubt doing his part. But it would sure as hell seem they’ve got us surrounded.
“Crawl toward the stairs on your elbows and knees, babe,” says Thom, picking up a rifle. “Stay low. I want you in the basement with the bulletproof vest on now. Go.”
Shards of glass cut into my arms through my long-sleeved T-shirt, but I do my best to ignore them and hustle my ass out of there. The thought of leaving Thom sucks. I 100 percent hate it. However, I follow orders like a good recruit/fiancée.
As I crawl along there’s more blasts and bangs and other assorted noises from various weapons coming from both inside and outside the house. People are damn well shooting at us. Again. And it’s way worse than the time in the hotel room. It deafening, like hail is pelting the house or we’re caught up in a tornado or something. People are actually trying to wipe us off the face of the earth and I’m terrified they’re going to succeed. My blood is pounding in my ears, adrenaline pouring through my body. But we are not going to die. Everything is going to be fine. At least, I really fucking hope so.
My hope lasts exactly until the wall next to me explodes.
I’m flung across the room screaming, dust and rocks raining down. At least when I land, I hit the back of a sofa first and it sort of cushions my fall. Though everything hurts like hell anyway. There’s also a bell or something ringing in my ears. Holy shit. This is insane.
“Thom?” I slowly rise just a little. Just enough to look around the room. “Oh God, please be alive!”
A hand reaches out of the dust storm, urging me back down. Blood drips from the side of his face where shrapnel or something cut him, but otherwise he seems all right. “Babe, it’s okay. Are you hurt?”
“I love you.”
The man doesn’t even blink. “I know. But are you hurt?”
“No, I don’t think so.” I cough up a lung or two as the air slowly clears. His dismissal of my mind-bogglingly big statement would be weird if we weren’t fighting for our lives, so I let it slide. “Did they launch a rocket at us?”
“Rocket-propelled grenade, yes.”
“Are you injured?”
“Just bruised like you. But there’s a hole in the wall now, so I’d really appreciate if you got your gorgeous ass downstairs pronto.” He pauses, watching said hole. Someone’s obvi
ously talking to him via the ear thingy again. “On it, Crow. Bear is on his way in.”
Sure enough, the gunfire outside intensifies as Bear comes limping in through the kitchen door. Fox swiftly moves to position an upended table in front of the entrance, using the available rubble to lock it into place. Assuming I’m going to do as told, Thom takes cover beside the new hole in the wall, leaning out to fire at bad guys every so often.
And I could run and hide as instructed. Or I could actually be helpful. I try to dart to my feet, but it’s more like a zombie-style stagger over to where Bear and Fox are positioned behind the central granite kitchen island. Blood is dribbling out of a wound in Bear’s calf, another wetting the sleeve of his black T-shirt. They’re barely visible in the low lighting.
“Hey, Betty,” says Bear, busy reloading a pistol. “Shouldn’t you be in the basement? Wolf is going to freak if he finds out you’re still up here.”
Out of nowhere, someone grabs a handful of my hair. My head swivels around hard, and Fox’s face is just inches away, her eyes drilling into mine. First one, then the other, as if she could look straight into my skull or my soul, or something.
“She’s clear for duty. We need all the help we can get.” She turns back to the firefight. “First-aid kit, by the door.”
“On it,” I say, scrabbling over on all fours through the dust and the glass to retrieve it.
“She shouldn’t be here,” Bear grumbles as I crawl back over to him.
“I said she’s clear,” Fox snaps. “You keep your eyes on our six, and let her get that bleeding under control.”
“I’m going to need you to stop moving,” I order. The cut on his arm is deep, but not too long. More like a stab wound. “Do I just wrap this?”
“Yep. There’ll be clotting gauze in there too. Let’s get my arm under control, then we’ll wrap the bullet wound in my calf.” Bear’s doing as he’s told, his eyes fixed on the windows to our side and the door behind us, gun cradled in his hands.