by April Hunt
Chapter Five
Trey studied the sleek curve of Elle’s neck; the way her golden hair slipped from it artsy updo to caress the satiny skin of her bare shoulders. She looked soft, warm, and oh-so-touchable—which was funny, since he hadn’t so much as laid a hand on her since they’d reached the ballroom.
Others had, though. Elle returned smiles and hugs, making nice with everyone who stopped to say hello—which was nearly everyone in the damn room. Hell, she even amped up her manners and introduced him as her date. Anyone on the outside looking in would think her a social butterfly, content to flutter around the room and bask in the attention.
Not Trey.
He’d seen it in the field, soldiers gone immobile but still prepped to go on the offensive. That was Elle. She smiled, but when the other person looked away, it cracked. She hugged, but when they first stepped up, she tensed—and stayed tense—until they walked away. And then the cycle started all over again with the next person. It was fucking exhausting to watch.
When an older couple finished their good-byes and stepped away, Trey couldn’t take another second of Elle’s silence.
“Are we ever going to talk things out?” He stepped up next to her, fully aware of the warm zing that traveled up from where their arms brushed.
“About what?” Elle returned the wave of an older gentleman across the room and avoided looking in Trey’s direction. “Your caveman tendencies, the fact you’re on my father’s payroll, or that you took the phrase bring your work home with you a bit too literally?”
Trey ground his back molars. “Thailand.”
“Then the answer is no, we’re not going to talk things out.” Elle returned the wave of another couple.
Trey had been fucking the hell up ever since he’d let her slip from his bed. Not only had she evaded him back in Thailand, but he’d let the Senator get his way about the gala appearance and then acted like a jealous ass upstairs when she’d tried replacing him with Logan.
She would’ve been just as safe standing next to the former Marine, but something in his gut revolted at the idea of her spending quality time with the country boy Casanova.
“Not talking about it isn’t going to make it go away,” Trey reminded her.
“No, but it’s a coping mechanism that’s worked well for me in the past, so why fix it if it’s not broke. I swear to God,” Elle muttered, sounding more like she was talking to herself, “the next time Shay tells me to let loose and walk on the wild side, I’m going to gag her. She gets a vacation in her parent’s Catskill home and I get this.”
“Elle Monroe,” a voice interrupted Trey’s retort. “I thought that was you.”
A tall, willowy brunette sashayed toward them a lot quicker than should be possible on her mile-high heels. Bright lips matched her fire-engine-red dress, the kind a woman wore to say to everyone, “Look at me!” The brunette’s attention bounced from Elle to Trey and back, as she closed the distance.
Next to him, Elle groaned. “And it keeps getting better.”
Trey couldn’t help but wrap his arm around her waist and give her hip a little squeeze. She gifted him a quick glare before slapping on a smile and turning to the incoming brunette. “Stephanie! How nice to see you. It’s been a while.”
Damn, she was good at the fake politeness, too.
“It seems like forever!” Stephanie leaned in and the two women exchanged a hug. “I didn’t know you were going to be here. Daddy said that, as far as he knew, you were still out of the country. I wish I could vacation like that—just drop everything and go see the world. That must have been so exhilarating.”
“I’m sure it would be, but I wasn’t on a vacation. I was establishing a medical clinic that was helping tsunami victims.”
The other woman looked baffled for a minute, then another. “A tsunami is the wave thing? So if there was an ocean, you must have been able to get in some beach time…right?”
Trey waited for Elle to break the sudden silence. And waited. She stared at the brunette, and if he didn’t know any better, looked to be counting silently in her head.
“After the tsunami, there really wasn’t much of a beach—or anything else—nearby,” Elle finally said.
The brunette didn’t even register her underlying annoyance. She waved her hand, as if brushing away a fly. “Oh, never mind. I guess it’s not really important because you’ve obviously been very busy.” Stephanie blatantly ogled Trey. “Hello, there…and you are?”
“Trey.” He purposely shifted his body closer to Elle, the move drawing attention to his arm, still snugly hooked around her waist.
The woman’s look of surprise, then confusion was almost comical. “What happened with James? The two of you—”
“Are ancient history,” Elle finished.
“Really? I haven’t heard a word about the cancellation! Oh, my God. I’m so sorry,” Stephanie said, sounding horrified. “You poor thing. You must be devastated.”
“Not in the least.” Elle sounded sincere, her voice steady as she curled herself into Trey’s side and looked up at him through her long lashes. “This incredible man right here reminds me on a daily basis that I definitely made the right decision.”
Stephanie eyed him again, with, if possible, even more renewed interest. “And what is it that you do again, Trey?”
Trey forced a polite smile. “I didn’t say…but I happen to own a bar with some of my military buddies.”
Elle’s attention had yet to waver from his face, but Stephanie’s was already gone as she made an excuse to leave and joined a larger group of women. Heads bowed, the group of whisperers threw an occasional glance their way.
“You know you’re now going to be the talk of the gala, right?” Trey pointed out.
“A bar?” Elle ignored his comment.
Yeah, she knew about Alpha Security, but it was only part of him. The rest: Alpha—the bar—his hometown of Frederick, his family…they were as far from this kind of life as a person could get, her metaphorical caviar to his beer nuts and trail mix. As a punk teen looking for an adventure of a lifetime, plain ol’ beer nuts hadn’t been enough. He’d left—his hometown and his family—and he’d stayed away for a damn long time.
Now beer nuts was what he lived for—and why he continued to work for Alpha Security.
To keep those he cared about safe.
Trey forced himself to meet Elle’s gaze, half-expecting to find some kind of disappointment lurking on her face. Instead, she looked…curious. “Are you going to answer me?”
“About what?” Because he honest-to-fuck couldn’t remember. The second he looked into her eyes, everything had flown out of head like it had been catapulted.
“You own a bar?” she asked again.
Trey shrugged. “It’s home.”
“So it’s a real place?”
“Real enough, with its scuffed bar top, ornery regulars, and malfunctioning jukebox.”
Elle’s mouth pulled up into a small smile. “It sounds like a place that I’d like.”
“You probably would.” But Trey wondered if that would be the case. To a woman who grew up going to parties like this gala, where you could turn around and come face-to-face with a dozen or more Hollywood actors, Nacho Night Friday wouldn’t be a big draw. The only thing close to a celebrity that Frederick had was Old Man Johnson, who’d been on the local fishing show for about five minutes.
“Elle Monroe, what the hell do you think you’re doing?” someone hissed.
Trey snapped to attention and shifted toward the owner of the irate voice. James. The ex. Red-faced and livid, steam practically poured out of the man’s ears as he stalked closer. Trey barely resisted the urge to pull Elle back.
James pointed toward Trey and snarled, “Him? Are you for real? It’s bad enough you’re attempting to go through with this ridiculousness of ending our engagement, but now you’re going to embarrass me even further by insinuating that you’re with this…barbarian?”
Trey ope
ned his mouth to retort, but Elle beat him to it. She pushed her shoulders back and stared the asshole dead in the eye. Good ol’ James looked a little surprised at her open defiance.
“Let’s get one thing straight, because you were obviously not listening six months ago or in every email and phone call since. I am not attempting to end the engagement. I ended it. It’s done. I’m not marrying you now or anytime in the future, and if I wanted to embarrass you, I wouldn’t dangle a military veteran—a man who’s actually done good in his life—in front of you. What I would do, is tell every available woman in this room that you’re a narcissistic, cheating piece of horse dung who wouldn’t know loyalty if it bit you on the ass.”
“And where was your loyalty to me, Elle?” James growled low. “You completely checked out on me and at the worst possible time. You left me alone to deal with all those potential investors to your father’s campaign. They wanted to know where you were, and it was embarrassing trying to explain.”
“Embarrassing?” Elle asked through gritted teeth. “I was in the fucking hospital, you idiot.”
This was the first Trey had heard about a hospital. Witnessing Elle’s face transform from a heated rosy glow to a pale gray, he guessed her visit wasn’t to put in volunteer hours. Trey stepped closer, ready to do whatever was needed to keep this asshole at a distance.
“You want to talk about checking out, James?” Elle scoffed. “You want to talk about being left alone? Where were you after the accident? Or during the doctor’s appointments that came afterward? Oh, that’s right—you were screwing your secretary. You want to know what’s really embarrassing? Admitting that I, for even one second, ever contemplated marrying you.”
James’s mouth dropped open and closed, making him look like a goddamned fish. Trey would’ve chuckled if a severe need to put his fist through the bastard’s face hadn’t flooded through him.
“This isn’t over, Elle,” James warned. “I mean it.”
“And so do I,” Elle stated firmly.
James glared a little longer and then he turned, muttering under his breath.
After a few tense seconds of silence, Charlie’s voice came over the comm-link, “Bloody hell, love. Thank God you ditched that wanker.”
A speck of color blossomed on Elle’s cheeks. Her eyes went wide as she looked to Trey. “They can hear everything?”
“Every little thing,” Logan chimed via his own mic. “And can I just say that I second Charlie’s sentiments. That man is a new, lower class of pond scum. Count your blessings that you walked away when you did.”
“Oh, I do,” Elle admitted. “Every day.”
“We’ve got a fucking problem, kids,” Stone, heading the detail along the hotel perimeter, interrupted. “Event security found one of their guys unconscious on the north end of the grounds, and we just found another two on the east who were sleeping on the job, thanks to tranq darts in their asses. Looks like someone’s come to play.”
“Fuck,” Trey cursed.
“Play it cool, boys and girls,” Logan reminded them. “We got famous people out the ass in that room. Doesn’t mean whoever’s about to crash is after our girl.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not taking any chances,” Trey announced. “I want to start the evac now. She’s been at this party long enough. Can we get Route A cleared?”
“Already on it,” Stone affirmed. “Ortega will be waiting with the car.”
Trey cupped Elle’s elbow, ready to disappear through the rear entrance that would take them toward a pair of service elevators, when a large body stepped through it. Trey registered the assault rifle in the masked man’s hands a split second before someone fired off a string of rounds into the ceiling.
* * *
For the second time in less than a week, Elle found herself facedown on the floor, Trey’s body covering hers. Any hope that it had been because of a hypersensitive reflex had died the moment the loud taps of gunfire ripped into the room.
People around them screamed, some running, others frantically pulling out cell phones. Elle peeked to the left, where one masked man roughly stepped on the hand of a movie producer. The sound of crunching bones and the producer’s screams turned Elle’s stomach.
“Don’t bother trying to send out a mayday,” one of the men announced to the room. “We’re jamming all cell signals, and all you’ll do in the meantime is piss us the fuck off. Cooperate, and this will be quick and painless. Resist, and there are no fucking guarantees.”
“Everyone lay the fuck down on your stomachs, hands on your heads,” another of the men ordered.
Above her, Trey shifted, but he wasn’t following orders. He was watching the men—at least ten of them—as they walked through the crowd of prone bodies. They ignored the men in formal wear, barely glanced at the older women, and then bypassed the younger brunettes completely.
They were scoping out the blondes. Elle’s eyes widened in realization.
“Trey,” she whispered.
“Fuck me,” Trey cursed. He’d noticed it too. “Charlie. Vince.”
“Here,” Charlie’s voice came on the comm-link. “Bloody hell, I’m glad our mics don’t use cell frequencies.”
“Forget Route A. I need another way out.” Trey slowly scanned their side of the room and stopped on a swinging corner door a bare ten feet away. “I got eyes on the kitchen, but we’re not going to make it there without getting spotted.”
Stone muttered a curse before barking an order to someone on his end. “We’re not going to be able to take over the room—not with that many civilians inside.”
“I just need a distraction,” Trey murmured.
“Leave it to me, love,” Charlie drawled. “Wait for my count and then run like bloody hell for the kitchen. There should be a separate service elevator in the back.”
Time slowed to a near standstill, and with each tick of Elle’s heartbeat, two of the masked men got closer and closer, lifting the heads of the blonde women scattered over the room.
“Three,” Charlie’s voice counted down. “Two…one.”
A commotion broke out near the champagne fountain. A petite blonde in black satin scrambled to her feet, nearly lurching into the arms of the nearest armed man.
“Don’t shoot me,” Charlie pleaded, fisting the masked man’s shirt in her hands. And then she turned on the water-works, sobbing hysterically. “Please, I’m too young and beautiful to die!”
It worked. All attention was diverted to the crazy little blonde’s theatrics.
Trey slithered off Elle’s body and urged her to her feet. “Let’s go.”
“But the others?”
“No time right now, sweetheart. It’s not the others that they’re here for.”
A few people nearby watched them, wide-eyed, as they ran to the swinging door. From behind, someone shouted, and Trey urged her faster. The door crashed open as they hit it, slamming hard against the wall behind. Apparently already evacuated by hotel security, the kitchen was an empty void of metal prep tables and abandoned plates.
“Over there.” Elle pointed to the back corner, where the staff elevator allowed for easy delivery of food from floor to floor.
Trey linked his fingers through hers and practically tugged her through the maze of the kitchen. Behind them, the swinging door crashed open again. Elle had barely glanced over her shoulder when a strong arm wrapped around her neck from behind. The solid hold and Trey’s forward momentum ripped their hands apart.
“What the fuck?” Trey spun, gun already raised and aimed—at her.
No, at the man over her shoulder.
“Let her go before I put a bullet in your head,” Trey demanded.
“Neither of those things are going to happen,” her captor promised.
Alley Man. Elle would have recognized that raspy voice anywhere. Her heart skipped a beat and then continued to thump wildly.
Her pursuer pushed his masked face against her cheek, the contact making her skin crawl. “Why are you making
this so difficult, Miss Monroe? This was supposed to be a quick job. Easy money. I’m starting to think I’m going to have to up my price.”
“You won’t be able to enjoy money from six feet below,” Trey growled.
He kept his gun steady, not once taking his eyes off the armed man behind her. And he was armed. Elle felt the cool press of a gun against her lower jaw.
“I’m not the one who’s going to take a dirt nap, my friend,” Alley Man threatened. His hold around Elle’s neck tightened, and suddenly breathing became an issue. She wheezed, her hands flying up to the arm banded around her throat.
Trey’s entire body tensed, the first time she’d seen him react.
Alley Man chuckled. “Maybe I should offer my services free of charge since I’m being given a gift. Making you pay would be worth the loss of income.”
Elle caught movement on the edge of her periphery, a spot of black toward the left. Trey side-stepped right, and it was then Elle realized that their ear mics had been suspiciously quiet. The cavalry. That’s why Trey hadn’t made a move.
Trey issued another warning. “I don’t know what you think I need to pay for, but it’s you who’s going to be hurting if you don’t let her go. Last chance before things get ugly.” He took another step right, making Alley Man’s attention move with him. “If you don’t, I can promise that this isn’t going to end well for you.”
“Things already haven’t ended well for me,” Alley Man howled, “and all thanks to you!”
Both his gaze and his gun snapped to the left side of the room where Vince and Charlie stood, advancing with their own weapons drawn and pointed their way. Alley Man threw a glare back at Trey, who was slowly stalking forward. For every step the team took in their direction, her captor took one back toward the swinging door.
“You have nowhere to go,” Trey stated firmly. “My friends are here, and more are on their way. Do you know where yours are?”
Vince snorted. “Fuck, I’ll answer that for him. They’re on the run. At the first sign of our backup, they scrambled all over the place like newbie fighter pilots. Left his ass here to rot.”