by Piper Stone
He took several sips of his beer before leaning in closer, his eyes darting back and forth. “Boone, don’t go out on a limb on this thing. I already told you that the Dreyfus family is powerful, influential. They owned or still do portions of land, businesses and gave out loans many years ago.”
“Loans?”
“Yep, to start certain brand-new corporations.”
“Like horse ranches catering to champion steeds?” Boone asked, his mind reeling.
“Exactly. I don’t know specifics, but don’t go down this path. If one of the boys is back in town, then the shit is going to continue.”
Boone nodded. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”
“Well, hello, cowboy.”
When an arm was slinked around his neck, Boone stiffened and turned his head. “Candy. Nice to see you.”
“Nice?” she cooed. “I would think after what we did the other night that you could say something sexier than that.” She inched closer then gave Sawyer a look. “You’re pretty sexy too. I do enjoy threesomes. Don’t I, sugar?”
Boone couldn’t have been more embarrassed and seeing the look of amusement in Sawyer’s eyes, he exhaled. “I don’t think he’s into that kind of thing.”
“Oh, wait a minute now. I could easily be convinced.” Sawyer grinned. “Would you like a drink?”
“I’d love one,” Candy said, her voice husky. “What are you two, big, strapping boys talking about? Something sexy I hope.”
“Just business.” Boone’s answer was stilted.
“Oh, that’s right. I heard about the ranch. Damn shame. Aren’t you boys heroes again?” she asked, keeping her arm planted on Boone’s shoulder.
Boone shifted, moving back from her and checked his watch. Stasha was due any time. The last thing he needed was her to see him with another woman. “Just doing our jobs.”
“But I heard some of the horses were killed. Do you have any idea who?” Candy pushed.
“That’s not our job. Now, what would you like?” Sawyer inched even closer, the same grin on his face.
Using the moment as an excuse, he inched further away. “Stasha should be here any minute. Catch you later.”
“Oh! I was just having some fun,” Candy contested then turned her attention to Sawyer.
Breathing out, he headed toward the room, grateful to be able to get away from her. The decision to spend the night with them had been too impetuous, a moment he would never repeat. A smile crossed his face. He hoped that he’d never have to worry again. As he moved through the crowd, catching respectful nods and pats on the back, he thought about what Sawyer had said. Maybe the fire investigator would be able to gather enough evidence to ascertain some reasons why the shit was going down.
“There’s the man. I heard you had a date?” Zane lifted his glass.
“Enough. I am allowed to have a private life.” Boone rolled his eyes.
“Only if we say so.” Cooper walked closer. “You guys did good. Proud of you. Other teams would have freaked, and you kept your head. I can’t imagine what you went through.”
“Nothing I want to repeat,” Boone mumbled.
“Yeah, well we are in a different way. Parachute jumping in a few days,” Steel snarked.
Cooper gave him a flippant look. “Part of the job, Frost. You know that. At least the jump was pushed back.”
“Yeah, well I don’t have to like it.”
“None of us do,” Boone offered as he checked his watch again. Now, she was late. While he didn’t know her well, he had a feeling she was never late for anything.
“The Rattlesnakes doing this?” Moose inched closer.
Cooper nodded. “They are. Every member of both teams is doing this. Requirement. New material can matter. Now, you boys know just how much.” The words seemed to echo.
The men looked at each other and finally, Antonio cleared his throat. “Coop is right. We have to do this. Could save our lives.”
“We’ll start the scheduling tomorrow. Back on tomorrow, gents. Too much shit going on,” Cooper huffed. “Too much shit.”
“Yeah. I’ll agree.” Moose took a sip of his beer. “I can tell you that the Rattlesnakes are having difficulty.”
“I can imagine. Nothing like losing one of your own during an exercise.” Landen held up his bottle. “To saving lives and protecting our own.”
“I can toast to that,” Antonio said quietly.
Boone nodded but his thoughts drifted to Stasha. It was now ten minutes after seven. To say he was worried was a severe understatement.
“You all right?” Landen asked.
“Stasha’s late. Given she’s a target, I’m worried.”
“Target? What?” His eyes opening wide, Landen moved in front of him. “What are you talking about?”
“She was rousted at the rodeo, threatened. Then shot out when she tried to save some pups. Worried.” Boone grabbed his phone.
Landen looked at the others. “We’ll help protect her. We protect our own.”
“You’re not the cavalry,” Cooper said as he lifted an eyebrow.
“Landen is right. We protect our own,” Moose stated, followed by a grunt.
Boone had to admit, hearing the guys want to back him, protect the woman he loved was… Loved. Shit. He was in dire straits with this woman. He took a step back and tried her cell phone. Thank God, he’d snagged it from her phone the night before. When it went to voice mail, he hoped she was simply on her way. “Stasha. You’re late. You know what that means. Call me if something is up. I’m at Ziggy’s.”
“You know what that means?” Landen snorted. “Is she going to be a member of the Burnout club?”
Boone growled on purpose. “I’m not saying a thing, ‘cause if I do, you guys will never let me live it down.”
“Admittance. That’s what it is,” Cooper said then jumped back as if expecting Boone to punch him.
Sawyer was shaking his head as he walked into the room. “That girl is wild.”
Boone chuckled. “You should meet her friend, Brandy.”
“I remember her from the rodeo, buddy. I bet you had your hands full.” Sawyer noticed the look on Boone’s face. “Just sayin’. She asked a lot of questions about you.”
“Interesting. What kind of questions?”
“About the rodeo and how long you’d been involved. About the fire and the horses.”
Inhaling, Boone looked out the door. “I don’t like the sound of that given our earlier conversation. Can you check around to see what the sister’s name is?”
“You’re really off on a tangent about this. Aren’t you?” Sawyer asked.
“Yeah. My gut is working overtime.” Boone checked his watch again and glared at his phone. No call. No text. His skin began to crawl.
“What’s wrong. The lovely doctor stand you up?” Sawyer winked. When Boone said nothing, he sighed. “You’re worried.”
“As fuck. I know her too well. There’s something going on.” Boone swallowed. His throat was parched, his heart racing. She’d been hurt or worse. He knew it.
“Give her five more minutes, then see if you can find her. Traffic is a bitch out there.” Sawyer shrugged.
Boone took another swig of his beer and began to pace. He could envision her being taken, kidnapped and killed. Rubbing his eyes, he panted. This was ridiculous. “I don’t know if I can wait that long.”
“Call her again,” Sawyer suggested.
“Yeah, okay.” Boone punched in the numbers. When the call immediately went to voice mail with zero rings, he shuddered. “That’s it. I’m going to find her.”
“Okay, buddy. Do you want me to go with you?” Sawyer gripped his arm.
“This, I can handle on my own.” Boone walked closer to the table, easing down his almost empty beer bottle. His instinct was kicking in, creating more than just a nervous vibe.
He would murder anyone who hurt her.
Stalking toward the entrance, he waved at Shannon and a man caught his eye. The
dark eyes, the way he was staring at Boone as he moved through the restaurant was chilling. A vacuum encapsulated every cell in his body and he slowed his gait, staring the man in the eyes. Registering. Remembering.
One day, he knew, in his gut and in his mind, that he would tangle with this man.
Even to the death.
He watched as the smokejumper walked through the restaurant, a purpose in his step. Inhaling, he wanted nothing more than to confront the man, but not yet. It wasn’t time just to make moves of any kind. He was still in his gathering information mode. He remained where he was, smiling as the lovely redhead from behind the bar moved closer. His eyes drifted around the room and he bristled. Some shit was going to stop.
“Would you like another one?”
“I believe I would.”
“Comin’ right up. You’re new in town,” she said, her eyes darting up and down the length of him.
“Not new. Just haven’t been here for a few years.” He kept his answers short. No one needed to learn a damn thing.
“Well,” she said as she stuck out her hand. “The name’s Shannon Miller. I own the place. If you need anything, let me know.”
“Thank you, Shannon Miller. James Smith.”
“Good to know you, James. I’ll get your drink.”
He offered his brightest smile, giving her what he knew to be a sensual look. “Such a doll and I love your bar.”
“Thanks.”
When she walked away, he couldn’t help but notice the curious look on her face. She’d been checking him out. Making a mental note, he scanned the perimeter. He’d learned a hell of a lot about the smokejumping team over the last twenty-four hours. They were men to be reckoned with. They also seemed determined to dig into business that they should have nothing to do with. In other words, they could be a problem.
Especially the one.
He had a limited time frame to accomplish a great day. The last thing he needed was anyone meddling into his operations. What he’d overheard, by all accounts, didn’t amount to anything more than hearsay, but enough that he needed to contemplate who he could trust. Chuckling, he gave the lovely Miss Miller a genuine smile then took a sip of his drink. If there was one thing he’d learned in the years honing his business skills as well as his unscrupulous tactics, was to strike with a heightened level of ferocity.
Certain lessons needed to be learned, punishment doled out and he had no qualms making them happen. Savoring the flavor of the scotch, he held the liquid in his mouth before swallowing. Perhaps Boone Martin needed to learn the hard way to stay out of other people’s business.
He grabbed his phone and looked from right to left. The majority of patrons were far too intoxicated to care about anything, but the baseball game doled out on every television. He made the call and swirled his drink as he waited for an answer.
“Yeah?”
“Do you have our package?”
“About to. There’s no reason we had to do this.”
James shook his head, exhausted from playing the same games day after day. “We do what we have to do. Too many questions being asked. I need you to issue a warning.” One single warning shot was all the fucker was going to get. He heard the stilted laugh on the other end of the line and hissed as he attempted to tamp back his increasing rage. “You do as I say.”
“These favors are getting out of hand. We have a deadline.”
“I’m well aware of the deadline!” Closing his eyes, he wrapped his hand around the glass, the pressure creating instant pain in his fingers. “Just stand by. We don’t need any loose ends.”
“As if you cared about that from minute one. Two days or we’ll lose everything. You need to keep that in mind.”
“I know exactly what I’m doing.” James drained his glass and slammed it down on the bar, getting an evil eye from the owner. She was paying far too much attention to what he was doing. He jerked out several bills, tossing them across the bar and stormed toward the entrance. Every aspect of what they were doing was being scrutinized. By some damn foreigners. Fuck them. Fuck this business deal.
“Then follow the plan.”
He held his breath as the warm air hit his face. The sun remained like a beacon of hope, one that he would be happy to squelch. Fuck this town and all the people who lived here. They were going to pay for everything they’d done to his family. “I am doing what is best for all of us. You’ve certainly benefitted from my leadership. Just fucking stand by like I told you to.”
“Or what?”
“Let’s just hope it doesn’t come to that.”
After a slight hesitation, the answer was laced with resignation. “What do you need me to do?”
He issued the direction without emotion.
“Fine. I’ll take care of it.”
The asshole damn well better. He was growing weary of the games. Unlocking his car, he snarled before climbing inside. Perhaps he’d need to remove excess baggage. The thought gave him a smile.
Boone’s grip on the steering wheel was tight, the same as his body remained tense. He’d tried her cell phone again. Nothing. Anger rippled through his muscles, creating a series of tremors. As he pulled to a stop light, he glanced at his phone, hoping. Praying. Control. He needed to maintain a cool head. She was building a practice. Maybe she had a client come in late. Of course, she wouldn’t pick up her phone. He’d looked up the address of her clinic, almost tossing the phone after several failed attempts. Now, he knew, but he was going to insist that she came to his ranch where he could protect her.
A single smile crossed his face. As if she’d allow him. Damn, the woman had a mind of her own.
The moment the light turned green, he pressed down on the accelerator, flooring the Mustang. As he weaved around traffic, giving no thought to the basic speed limit, he could envision some asshole hurting Stasha. The thoughts became muddled as his fury increased, rising to the point he had difficulty breathing.
Beep!
Shooting off the horn, he charged through a yellow light, barely missing an oncoming truck. If it was the last thing he did, he was going to get to her. The GPS indicated he was close and his driving became more reckless as he moved onto the darkened two-lane road. “Come on. Come on.” He jetted past the driveway and skidded to a stop, yanking the gear into reverse and roaring up the driveway.
The sun was already setting, creating shadows but he was able see enough. There was a vehicle in her driveway. Idling, he pulled into a parking spot and debated what he should do. If this was a patient, then the front door would be unlocked. He’d casually walk in and wait. No harm. No foul.
Killing the engine, he wiped his sweaty hands on his pants before exiting the vehicle. From what he could tell, there were no lights on inside the clinic, but he tried the door anyway. Locked. Panic almost settled in, but he turned to stare at the vehicle. She had a visitor. She didn’t want to let him know. She had another life.
Perhaps she had another man in her life.
Refusing to fall into such a trap, he knocked and waited. Then knocked again. There were no sounds of any kind.
Snorting, he walked closer to the black SUV and tried to peer inside the windows. They were smoked, not allowing him to see a thing. He walked around the oversized and very expensive vehicle, studying the license plate. From out of state. Interesting. Making mental note of the numbers, he shoved his hands into his pockets and tried to determine what to do. Her truck was in the small parking lot, so she was here.
He scanned the area before walking around to the side. The building was much larger than it appeared from the front. He could tell there appeared to be an attached building, perhaps a residence? He inched toward the back and the moment he hit the corner, he heard voices. Lilting voices to be exact. While he was unable to hear any of the words, whoever she had as a visitor, she was happy to see.
Both guilt and sadness slithered into his heart and mind. They weren’t exclusive. They certainly weren’t committed. She could see anyone
she wanted to see. Unfortunately, he didn’t want her dating anyone else. The thought left a bad taste in his mouth. She obviously didn’t feel the same way.
Disgusted with his behavior, he refused to confront the situation. But damn, she could have called. Maybe he would have understood. Maybe.
He sat in his car for a full five minutes before driving off. At least he knew she was safe.
By the time he rolled into his driveway, dusk had settled in. He cut the engine and tapped the steering wheel. Relationships were far too damn complicated. Nothing a tall glass of whiskey couldn’t help, at least in the way of easing his heartache. The moment he slid out of the car, he heard one of the horses whinnying. They were almost never vocal, especially at this time of night.
“Hmm…” His keys in his hand, he stepped onto the porch.
The whinnying continued.
Another wave of sensations skittered, creating a new hit of adrenaline. Taking long strides, he rushed toward the barn, flipping on the light. His attention was immediately drawn to the gate in front of Blaze’s stall.
Sucking in his breath, he stared at the sign.
A large red ‘X’ was painted in the center, the corners dripping. Someone was issuing a warning. “You okay, babies?” Boone checked the horses before heading back to his vehicle, grabbing a flashlight. By all rights, he should call this in, but he had the distinct feeling whoever had been the perpetrator was still on the property. He checked around the barn as well as the corral, seeing nothing indicating how or when the intruder had been on his property.
After a few minutes of searching, he headed back into the barn. He checked the latches on every gate before hunkering down, studying the crude marking. He slipped his fingers through the substance. It was still tacky to the touch. Bringing his hand toward his face, he sniffed.
The single letter had been marked in blood.
“Get inside.” He jerked her around the side of the building and toward his vehicle.
The command was direct, and he glared at her as he threw open the door to the SUV. “I’m not going with you, Drake. I’ve already told you that.” Stasha remained defiant, yanking her arm out of his grip and taking a step back. “We’re finished. We’ve been finished. I have a new life here.” She’d been crazy to think she could sit and talk with him, with the man who’d almost driven away her passion for her career as well as for life. Dear God, she’d almost been sucked into believing he still cared. Her hands were clammy, and she wanted nothing more than to go to Ziggy’s, pretending this meeting had never happened. She was a different woman than when she’d left San Francisco. To think he’d once been her mentor in so many ways. She’d been naïve as a young woman, falling for him head over heels. And now? The memories made her sick to her stomach. Even in the shadowed light, she could tell he was faking his feelings, trying his best to woo her into falling into his web.