His Devil's Heat

by Linzi Basset

  “I don’t have the combination to open the gate. Hold on, I’ll phone Enzo,” he tried to pacify her with a soft voice. Lauren was so upset she couldn’t even follow the conversation. She crumbled on the spot, on the verge of hysteria.

  “Got it, hold on, miss. I’ll have it open in no time,” he said while he punched in the code. The gate sprung open and Lauren sprinted past him with a soft, “Thank you.”

  “Samantha!” She shouted as she ran toward the back door and yanked it open. “Samantha!” Her voice rose hysterically as she tore through the kitchen.

  “Lauren?” Samantha appeared at the top of the stairs and quickly ran down when she noticed how upset Lauren was. “What’s the matter? Come now, shh, I’m here,” she tried to pacify her while she hugged her trembling body. “Come, let’s go to the den and then tell me what’s wrong. Enzo!”

  “Yes, missy?”

  “Some chamomile tea, please.” She guided Lauren through the door. “Oh, and call Rhone. Tell him and Keon to get over here. Something’s happened.”

  “There, calm down, Lauren. I’m not going to let anything happen to you. Come now, that’s better. Tell me what happened,” she cajoled her gently.

  “It’s him. He’s alive. He’s not dead, Samantha! And he’s coming to get me,” she sobbed.

  Samantha didn’t have to ask who she was referring to. She’d had the same feeling since the day she’d heard that Adam Baxter had died. When the inheritance came their way, it had set off warning bells.

  “What happened? Tell me what frightened you so much.”

  “Phone call. I got a phone call. He didn’t speak but the way he breathed, that heavy, excited . . . oh god, Samantha, it was like he was right there, pressing me down in the bed while he . . . while he—” She choked and clawed at Samantha’s hand. “It was him. I know it was. He’s not dead. Oh god. What am I going to do?”

  “He can’t get to you, Lauren. Keon and Rhone have turned this place into Fort Knox.”

  Lauren looked at Samantha.

  “You’re not surprised. You never believed he was dead. Why didn’t you say something? Warn me!”

  “It was just a feeling and I didn’t want to upset you in case I was wrong. I’ve been doing some digging but so far, I haven’t found anything. With Richard now part of the Precision Secure team, I didn’t want to put him in a position where he has to compromise Rhone’s trust.”

  “Here you go. I made some chamomile tea. It will help calm you down. The lads are on their way,” Enzo informed Samantha calmly. He handed the cup to Lauren but she was trembling too much to hold it.

  “Here, let me help you.” Enzo sat down next to her and with the same gentleness he reserved for Samantha, held the cup for her to drink.

  Lauren took a couple of sips. “Thanks, Enzo. It’s enough. I’m feeling better already.”

  “Vraiment?” He shook his head but wasn’t surprised that stubbornness ran in the family. “I’ll be in the kitchen, missy. Shout if you need anything.”

  “Thanks, Enzo,” Lauren said softly. She watched him leave. “What are we going to do, Samantha? I can’t go through that again. I persevered, for Beckie’s sake, but as God is my witness, if he takes me again, I’ll kill myself.”

  “Nonsense and besides, we’ve got each other now, not to mention Rhone and Keon to protect us. And, don’t forget, the entire Precision Secure team behind them.”

  “You don’t know him like I do, Samantha.”

  Samantha shook her head. “I know him very well, maybe better than you. I have always known what drives him and I see him for who he really is. He hated me because he couldn’t control me. He had Beckie to manipulate you. Don’t lose sight of that, Lauren. He has no hold over you now. You and I are together now. And this time, we will face him side by side.”

  “He has to die, Samantha. I can’t live with him lurking around forever. I’ve had enough. I want love and happiness. Come on, you’re the sniper. How are we going to get rid of him?”

  “I have no intention of taking a shot at him from afar, Lauren. I want him dead as much as you,” she said with a voice soaked in venom. “But I want to look in his eyes when I pull the trigger; to watch him surrender to death.”

  “How? We don’t know where he is. If he faked his death, he could be anywhere. You should know that better than me,” Lauren said, her shoulders slumping dejectedly.

  “I don’t know but one way or the other I will find him and be ready to take him out when I do. He destroyed our lives and he did it with such callousness. I want to confront him and let him know; show the fucking monster that he didn’t take our courage. He will pay for the loss and pain he’d caused us. I have a suspicion that Rhone and Keon know something.”

  “Are you saying they know he’s alive?”

  “Possibly, and before you jump on your high horse, just think, Lauren, neither one would say anything to us. Protect and care. They won’t tell us because they don’t want us to worry.”

  Lauren rubbed her eyes and sat back in the sofa. “What are we going to tell them when they arrive?”

  “The truth. It’s imperative that they know Baxter is up to something.”

  The screech of tires sounded in front of the house. Samantha looked at Lauren. “Don’t say anything about what we’ve discussed. If Rhone catches wind of my intention to hunt Baxter down, he won’t think twice before keeping me chained to the bed.”

  “He wouldn’t!” Lauren said with huge eyes.

  “Oh, believe me, he has, a couple of times in the past and he would do it again. The man is nuts. Lately, he’s become so protective I have to breathe softly,” Samantha tried to make light of the situation.

  It didn’t help and the moment Keon walked inside and their eyes met, Lauren lost it again. Tears rolled over her cheeks. Just thinking how disgusted he would be if he knew what Baxter made her do, broke the last of her resolve.

  Keon dragged her into his arms and held her tight. He looked at Samantha. “Talk, Sammy. What the fuck happened?”

  “She got a phone call. A heavy breather. She thinks . . .” Samantha hesitated when Lauren shuddered. She took a peek at Rhone. He was looking like a marauder with his feet apart and his hands on his hips; a frown on his face.

  “She thinks what, luv?” Rhone prodded gently. Samantha was surprised at his control over his emotions.

  “Lauren believes it was Adam Baxter.”

  Samantha noticed the quick look the two men shared. It confirmed what she’d told Lauren. They too didn’t believe that Baxter was dead. She’d bet her best gun that they knew a lot more than what they were letting on.

  “Enough, Red, I’m here. Why do you think it was Baxter?” Keon tenderly wiped away Lauren’s tears.

  “It’s the sound . . . I,” she shook her head and bit into her lip. “It was him. I know it was.”

  “Relax now, Lauren and finish your tea.” Keon glanced at Rhone, who gave a curt nod.

  “We didn’t want to tell you because we are dealing with the situation,” he began tentatively. Lauren’s head snapped up.

  “You knew! All this time?”

  “We suspected, but we only confirmed it last night,” Keon admitted.

  Samantha glowered at Rhone. “You went without me?”

  “Don’t start, luv. I had no intention of taking you.”

  “What did you find?” She demanded, unperturbed by the chilled look in his eyes. “Don’t give me that look, Rhone Greer. We deserve to know. It’s our lives too he’s threatening.”

  “And it’s our responsibility to protect you, so don’t—”

  “Please, Rhone,” Lauren interceded quietly. She looked at him earnestly. “I have to know. I can’t afford to be lax. Not with him. I can’t . . . fuck! I won’t be his plaything ever again. I need to be prepared; know what to expect.” She glanced at Samantha. “As does Samantha. He still believes he has some hold over us and it’s only a matter of time . . .”

  Rhone sighed sat down in a plush win
gback chair. He patted his lap. “Come here, luv.”

  Samantha didn’t hesitate and settled in his lap, surprised when he pulled her against his chest and hugged her.

  “Do you know how much sunshine you’ve brought into my life, Samantha?” His gaze followed the tip of her tongue as it ran over her bottom lip. He brushed his finger over the glistening surface. “So beautiful,” he murmured.

  “Just let us know if you want us to leave, Chuck,” Keon teased, as amazed as Samantha at the tender look on Rhone’s face. Not that he should be. He already knew that Rhone loved Samantha. He just needed to realize it himself.

  “Sadly, there’s no time.” He chuckled at the look of disappointment on Samantha’s face. “But, tonight, luv, I’m taking you to the club.”

  Her eyes brightened at the promise. She’d been banned from the club until she was completely healed.

  “And, we’re going to explore something a little . . . different. With both of you.”

  Lauren’s eyes widened and she glanced at Keon. His smile was just as wicked as Rhone’s but instead of making her wary, it excited the hell out of her.

  “But, we digress. We went to Baxter’s house last night and came across some important documents pertaining to Precision Secure, the Sixth Order and Damien Whittaker.”

  “Oh yes! I saw that file. He’s the CEO of the Black Diamond Corporation.” Samantha frowned. “Do you think he’s involved with the Sixth Order?”

  “We know he is and the Damien Whittaker who is now in charge, isn’t the real one.”

  “I don’t follow.” Lauren seemed confused.

  Samantha gasped as the penny dropped. “No! Don’t tell me he . . . good god, Rhone! Are you saying Baxter killed Damien Whittaker?”

  “Not exactly,” he hedged.

  “Then what the devil are you saying?” she pressed.

  “From what we overheard, someone else masterminded the entire, shall we call it, swap.”

  “Swap?” Lauren asked with a deep frown.

  “Adam Baxter has turned into Damien Whittaker.”

  Silence descended over the room as the two women tried to make sense of what Rhone was saying.

  “Turned into Whittaker? Do you mean facial reconstruction?”

  “Yes, and then some. Hair, his voice, the way he walks; he’s a completely new person. He arrived at the house while we were there and from his soliloquy it was clear that he is being played by someone else.” Keon confirmed.

  “And you know who that someone else is, I imagine,” Samantha said.

  “We have a suspicion it might be Vito Vitale, the mafia boss.” Rhone hugged her. “Right, now you know. We’ll send photos of Whittaker to your phones so that you know exactly what he looks like. And, let me make this very clear to both of you; you do not approach him, you do not let him inside your head and least of all, you do not allow him anywhere near your person. If he approaches you somewhere in the open, you fucking run. Is that understood,” Rhone barked with a dark look on his face.

  “You don’t have to worry about that, honey,” Samantha said, too eagerly and too easily, setting off warning bells in Rhone’s mind.

  “Samantha,” he warned. “I’m not kidding. You stay away from him. If you thought he was dangerous before, remember that a trapped wild animal is even more ferocious. Adam Baxter is now in that state.”

  “I know, Rhone. Lauren and I aren’t stupid. Believe me, after everything that he’s put us through, we have no desire to be at his mercy again.”

  Rhone frowned at her statement but Samantha returned his look with a sweet expression.

  “Very well. Keon, please phone Lance and ask him to dispatch the bodyguards. We’ll wait until they arrive. Oh, and phone the school so that they’ll allow access to Beckie as well.”

  “You’re not thinking he’ll try and take her again, do you?” Lauren asked, fear shallow in her eyes.

  “We’re not taking any chances. Not with any of you. So, ladies, get used to having a big burly shadow from this point forward.”

  The women glanced at each other, but meekly accepted Rhone’s instruction.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Adam sat back in Damien Whittaker’s chair, an expression of satisfaction on his face. He had taken a chance to go to his own house, which apparently now belonged to the Francis bitches. But, it had been a stroke of genius at the same time. It had dawned on him while he was there that he was now untouchable to Rhone and Keon, or whoever else had their guns in for Adam Baxter. Finally, he was in a much stronger position to achieve his all-time goal.

  He was still in control. No matter how much Vito Vitale believed that he had the upper hand. An evil smile curved his lips upward. Vito Vitale won’t know what hit him. Not when his plan to implicate him for the assassination of the President fell into place.

  The Vito cell phone—as he’d christened it—rang. He sighed heavily but answered it on the third ring.

  “You don’t listen, do you, Baxter,” he said without greeting him.

  “Now what are you blabbering about,” Adam sneered. Vito was a fucking mobster—a very dangerous one, granted—but in Adam’s eyes, he was nothing but a lowlife with a gun and goons to do his dirty work.

  “Careful, Baxter. You know how little your life means to me.”

  “Really? If I really didn’t serve any purpose to you, Vito, I wouldn’t be alive. What do you want?”

  “I warned you to stay away from anything relating to your previous life.”

  “Yeah, so?”

  “Don’t fuck with me, Adam. I know you’ve been to your house.”

  Adam felt a chill run down his spine at the thought of Vitale keeping a track on him.

  “How the fuck do you know that?” He barked.

  “Did you honestly think I would go through all the trouble to keep you alive and not have tabs on you? I have to admit, I didn’t believe you could be this stupid. It’s rather disappointing.”

  Adam clenched his teeth hard. “What are you suggesting, Vito?” he spat.

  “I have many contacts, my dear man, which allows me access to the latest technology. So, be warned. Don’t fuck with me.”

  Adam shrank in the chair. It didn’t take a genius to realize what he was alluding to. He’d used various tracking devices himself in the past. Trying to figure out how and what he was using would be next to impossible.

  “Gone mute, have you?” Vito taunted him. “Don’t push your luck with me. Forget your previous life and your vendetta against the Francis sisters. Not to mention Rhone Greer and Keon LeLuc. Don’t defy me or the decision to eliminate you for good, will be an easy one.”

  The phone went dead. Adam didn’t move for a long time. He leaned his head against the back of the chair and stared out of the window with sightless eyes.

  Just when he thought he had the upper hand, life dealt him another fucked-up hand. Suddenly, he was tired. The stress of the past couple of weeks and the trauma his body had suffered since the accident weighed down on him, threatening to suffocate him.

  His wintry eyes have frozen over like the surface of a winter puddle, robbing them of any hope to ever find peace in his life. Something his father said years ago, flashed in his mind.

  “We’re all in the same game, son, just different levels. Dealing with the same hell, but different devils. Don’t let those demons consume you because once they do, you are doomed to fail.”

  Adam felt those devils closing in on him now, swirling in black cloaks around his head, infiltrating his mind and clawing at the essence of his soul.

  He frowned, wondering if it was Vitale who had taken the files from his new, supposedly impenetrable, safe.

  “No, he would’ve said something,” he sighed heavily.

  I have to find a way to block him. I’m not going to give up on my quest. Wait a minute . . .

  Adam Baxter, as it was, had been aware of the plot to assassinate the President of the United States for the past eight years. The mafia had always been
their biggest opposition and if they could get the Don incarcerated for a major crime, the Sixth Order would gain control over organized crime.

  Connecting with Vito had been the first step, so he would come to trust Adam and become lax. But then Adam became sidetracked by the promises Vitale had made and decided to change the direction and rather implicate the Sixth Order. Vitale had put an abrupt end to that.

  Now, it’s back to the original plan. And the best way to get rid of Vitale is to make sure he takes the blame for killing the President. He’s gone too far and I will see this through. The Sixth Order will have to see my value and award me accordingly.

  * * * * * * * *

  “Oh, you’re wearing contact lenses. I like them. They suit you much better than the thick black frames you always favored,” Lena, his PA, said two days later when he arrived at the office.

  “It was time for a change,” he acknowledged in the usual brusque fashion Whittaker spoke with.

  “I’ve already given your guests coffee. Would you like your usual as well?”

  “My guests? I don’t recall having a meeting scheduled.” Adam frowned irritably. She should know by now how unexpected changes irritated him.

  Lena paled under the sharpness of his gaze. “I’m sorry, Mr. Whittaker, but they said they’re your varsity friends and you invited them for a visit. I didn’t think you’d mind . . .”

  Her voice faded when he stalked away and entered his office. His body went taut when he noticed the two large men lounging in the chairs in front of his desk. Then he closed the door behind him with a resounding click.

  “Gentlemen,” Whittaker said, trying his best to keep the shocked surprise at bay. “I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage. My PA says we were at varsity together?”

  He squirmed under the intense regard from the two men—the last people he’d expected to see when he’d walked through the door.

  Rhone Greer and Keon LeLuc. What the fuck are they doing here?

  “Then you have a very selective memory, Damien, isn’t it? Or are you going to claim that whoever changed your face also wiped your memory at the same time?” Rhone asked dryly.