True Justice
Page 8
Yeah, she wanted him even more.
“Are we done?” she asked, knowing he wasn’t even close.
He laughed, and it was a wonderful thing to hear. It had been too long.
“Oh, my love, not even close.”
She was damn glad for that.
“Mmmmm, you’re really sexy,” she stated. “I’m a very lucky wife.”
Greyson dropped the rest of his clothes to the floor and stood over her.
“I’m the luckiest man on the planet. I have you, Emma. I’m sorry I brought up a divorce.”
She saw it in his eyes.
“You wanted to get me away from Vegas. I understand, Greyson. I will always understand.”
“Thank freaking God for that,” he muttered.
“Now, back to this,” he said, stroking his really engorged erection. “Know where I can put it?”
She rolled over and got on her knees.
He lifted a brow.
Well, that was intriguing.
“Take me, Greyson.”
That he could do.
Greyson climbed onto the bed and grabbed her hips. With a nudge, he slid back into her body, and he moaned.
“It’s good to be the king,” he said, as he began moving in and out of her body.
She pushed back against him, burying him to the base.
“Jesus, Emma,” he muttered, watching himself disappear into her body. “I love my wicked kitten.”
Oh, she was aware.
“Fuck me, Grey!”
That was all he had to hear. His wife’s use of words she rarely dropped drove him wild.
Pulling her up, she was pressed to his torso again, and then, and only then, he began moving.
With the pump of his hips, he slid in and out of her body as they stared across the room at them having sex. She was sexy, and he dwarfed her body.
His hands moved around to her baby bump, and he placed them there, claiming not only her but also the little life they’d created.
This was the mother of his child.
It was so sexy.
Sliding one hand to her clit, he stroked her as he stroked into her.
She moaned, leaning her head against his shoulder.
Greyson could stay like this all day, watching them fornicate—watching them move together like a well-oiled machine.
He craved his wife.
“More,” she said, staring at him in the mirror.
Their eyes met.
It set off the wickedness in him.
He began pounding himself into her body. His breath was labored, and he was barely holding on. That need was pulling him under, and he loved it.
Only his Emma could bring this out in him.
Only her.
“Who do you love, kitten?” he asked, trying not to fall without her. Greyson knew she was close, but he was holding on for all he was worth.
He could feel the tremors move through her body.
He could feel the quake as her thighs shook with that impending explosion.
“ANSWER ME!” he ordered.
“Only you, Grey!” she said, as he roughly rubbed her clit until she was on the verge of shattering apart. She was struggling through the pleasure to stay focused.
“You’re mine,” he said.
Emma shook.
His body tightened.
Everything in them began breaking apart.
“Fall with me,” he hissed, the eruption already happening. “Fall with me, kitten!”
That was all it took.
She couldn’t speak.
Emma was tumbling hopelessly out of control. That pleasure was just too much.
It consumed her.
Greyson exploded, pouring hotly into her body from behind, as he struggled to keep on his knees.
Emma took everything he had, willing them to tumble into the pleasure. That wet, hot heat filled her.
He filled her.
“Oh, Grey!” she whispered, as her body shattered under the pleasure filled thrusts.
Together they tumbled, the colors and pleasure swirling wildly around them.
Greyson dropped them to the bed, remaining buried in his wife’s body.
“We’ll be okay,” she stated.
He held her protectively against his body.
“I know.”
He didn’t really know that. His gut was churning, and he had that sick feeling. It was them against every bad guy in Vegas.
The odds weren’t in his favor, and he knew it.
“We’ll be okay, Greyson. I know we will. We can do this. Have faith.”
He was trying.
Croft was praying for a miracle.
They needed one.
And soon.
Chapter Two
Mountains Around
Vegas
Tuesday
Mid-Morning
T o say that he was a man on a mission would be an understatement. Now that his brother had killed his sister, an innocent who had so much to look forward to, Dimitri was out for blood. For his family, for the people he loved, and for himself.
Viktor had broken his family, and it had pushed Dimitri over the edge. He was grotesquely out of control, and he knew it. Only, he couldn’t help it.
He wanted vengeance.
He wanted his blood on his hands.
He wanted to end the pain.
Truthfully, a part of him wanted to die. He knew that if Viktor ended him, his half-brother would leave the Crofts alone long enough for them to regroup and leave Las Vegas. He’d left them letters back at his home at Sky Villa, and he’d explained all of it.
Hopefully, they’d listen to reason—even when he certainly wasn’t.
What it all came down to was that he said his goodbyes on paper because he couldn’t do it face to face. Dimitri couldn’t stare Emma in the face and not break. He couldn’t tell her goodbye and watch her cry.
He knew her.
Dimitri wouldn’t break her more.
So, he’d walked away without a word, and it sucked. There was so much he wanted them to know, and he couldn’t say it to them. He wanted Greyson to know he might not be his blood, but he was his brother.
He was his best friend.
For the first time in his life, he had one. He’d never let anyone close enough to become a friend, but a best friend?
Yeah, no.
This was a first for him.
Before Emma and Greyson, Dimitri lived the life of the solitary wolf, and he didn’t need people.
Only, he’d been wrong.
So very wrong.
He did need them, and now that he had them, he had to make the sacrifice. For the people he loved, and loved him back, he’d give up his life.
No longer IF, but when he died, Viktor would let them run. He would take Vegas and let the Crofts live. They could escape with his last sister and start a life elsewhere.
All it would take was his death, and that was a price he was willing to pay.
For the family, he’d sacrifice it all.
After he’d betrayed them to Babylon and made that deal to find Viktor, he knew they would be in danger. He knew what would be asked of him.
They were the price he’d want.
While he’d let Babylon destroy his body and soul in his bed, he wouldn't let the man near Emma. She was the purest thing he knew, and he wanted to preserve that. The heart of the home, and family, was that one woman. She held everything together, and she had to survive.
If she went down, Greyson would follow.
If Croft went down, Vegas would follow.
It was a sick set of dominoes, and he knew it. They were all connected in fate’s vicious circle.
So, he was making the sacrifice to ensure they left the rest of the family alone.
He knew that his brother wanted him to track him into the mountains. Dimitri would be a sitting duck. He’d seen the trackers on his gear and his ride.
His technology sucked if he thought he couldn’t de
tect it. Yet, Dimitri didn’t pull it off. If Viktor wanted to track him, so be it. He’d ‘follow’ him deep into the mountains for one last game of cat and mouse.
Maybe he’d get lucky and kill him.
Maybe he’d be unlucky and die.
It was anyone’s game, but what he did know was it was far enough away from Emma, Katerina, Greyson, Curtis, and Chris. If his brother was out chasing him, he wouldn’t be gunning for the Crofts.
It was his last goodbye to them.
So now, as he hiked through the woods and toward his ultimate end, he knew someone was behind him. He could hear the birds in the distance.
It had to be his brother, or it had to be someone he’d hired to chase him down. He didn’t doubt that Viktor, that psychopath, would hire someone to help him.
Honestly, he didn’t have the skill to kill him.
Whoever he’d hire was just as big a mess. The man wasn’t a trained killer, and here was the proof.
He’d made one hell of a loud approach.
Well, Dimitri would use that to his advantage. As he glanced down at the compass on his watch, he headed North. He knew if his brother was in the woods, he’d need the high ground, and that was the top of the mountain.
The wannabe sniper couldn’t get him through the trees. He’d need to get him in a scope.
So that meant pressing on.
It was deeper into the trees and it would be harder to track him.
Viktor was a dead man.
Or he was.
One way or another, someone wasn’t coming out of the mountains. Tonight, it would get cold. Soon, he’d bed down, get out his gun and scope, and do what the military had taught him to do.
Kill.
Or die.
Dimitri had no choice.
It was for the people he loved more than himself.
And he would set them free.
* * * G R E Y S O N C R O F T * * *
Terrace Glen
When they got to the man’s home, they couldn’t just ring the doorbell. They might be seen. So, they maneuvered around the back of the house and to the easiest part to access it. She’d broken in before, and from her intel, she knew the shit had hit the fan.
She and her band of merry security guys had sat outside the house in the desert for a while. They were making sure it was clear to go in, and safe.
Their idea.
Not hers.
They’d watched as Christopher Ford left, and he’d been crying. That wasn’t a good sign. Speaking of rats bailing the ship…
That was bad.
She knew where Dimitri Gideon wasn’t, and that was the funeral and the house. She had Feds on the ground watching the family until she arrived.
That took down two of their security.
All that was left was a woman who had just given birth and was mourning her sister.
Odds were in their favor.
So, at the gate, she took the black box that Ivan handed her. She slapped it onto the metal, and there was a beep.
“You have one minute,” Ivan stated. “It’ll interrupt the security system long enough to get over the fence.”
That worked for her.
She didn’t need a whole minute.
“I’m ready.”
Heath held his hands together and braced himself for her to use him as a means of getting over. They could climb.
She was not equipped to handle that.
“Boost me,” she said.
He caught her foot in his hands and lifted with all his might. Elizabeth flew over the fence without even touching it. When she landed, the coast was clear.
“Come on,” she said, glancing back at them.
Ivan was next, and then Heath and Wilcox joined her on the other side. The only sound was of their steel-toed boots hitting the metal of the fence and then the ground.
There wasn’t much a group of Marines couldn’t get over, and this was the proof.
When they landed beside her, they flanked her.
“Let’s get inside.”
She knew the code. It had been on the dark web, and Ivan had bought it for her. When in Vegas, do things the seedier way. Ethan would have a shitfit.
It almost made her giggle.
Only, she was focused on one thing. Since their security was out there, it was just more proof that the Crofts had a shitstorm coming.
Vegas was about to turn on them if they didn’t get her help and fast. While Elizabeth was all about law and order, sometimes, you had to take a walk on the dark side.
This was one of those times.
It was a nice break from her normal life of playing it by the rules.
At the kitchen doors, they saw a man cooking. Well, she wouldn’t be able to get past him. That meant handling the situation.
“We have one who needs a nap,” she suggested.
“I got it,” Heath whispered. “I’ll read him a bedtime story.”
Well, that was handled.
Quietly, to be able to allow Heath to sneak up on him, she slid the door open. It wasn’t until the big man moved past her that he was noticed.
The chef glanced over.
His face said it all. His eyes went big, and he didn’t move when Ivan pointed a gun at him.
“Heath?” he asked.
Heath patted him on the shoulder in reassurance.
“This won’t hurt. Sorry,” he said, before hitting his pressure point on his neck. The man crumbled to the floor in a pile.
Well, the fence was clear, and now the chef was down. This was going fairly well.
“Let’s go have a seat,” she said, checking the security monitors on the kitchen wall. That, too, had been on the dark web. The password matched Dimitri Gideon’s birthdate—his real one.
“Where to?” Ivan asked.
“The living room looks good. Disable the cameras. I don’t need this on record.”
He handled it.
Elizabeth and her band of normally lawful men headed in.
And they waited.
Help had arrived.
Greyson rolled his neck to alleviate some of the tension. He and Emma had just finished fornicating, and that had helped. At least they had come to the agreement that they’d fight and were on the same team.
He wasn’t feeling AS stressed, but he still needed that miracle.
Oh, and a bourbon.
Only, as he was heading down the stairs, the alarm on his watch beeped.
It was only one chime.
That was enough to stop him in his tracks.
In his house, their security could pick up when there were TOO many people present. It was a little feature that Dimitri had promised would save their lives.
And it just might.
It was telling him that they had too many warm bodies in his family’s space.
He tapped the watch and it was right. Unless someone was having a get-together, there were four too many people in their space.
Shit!
He headed back upstairs and to the bedrooms where he would find his brother and Curtis. While he’d want to handle this by himself, he knew the odds.
They weren’t in his favor.
Greyson wasn’t one to let his imagination run rampant, but this screamed of a Russian killer making his move.
Shit!
Shit!
Shit!
They had to move fast.
When he knocked, Curtis answered before he could do it again.
“What?” he asked, whispering. “What’s wrong? You look freaked out.”
Greyson got it. That meant the baby was asleep, so he kept his voice low.
“We have company.”
His eyes went big.
That was NOT what they needed at this point. The family was just regrouping.
“Let me get my gun.”
Curtis went back in, and when he left, they heard the lock turning on the door. Clearly, he’d warned Katerina of what was going down.
“Let’s get Dante. We nee
d his help.”
They headed down the hall, and Greyson tapped lightly on the door while Curtis kept scanning up and down the hall for trouble. His brother answered, and he was shirtless and his jeans were open.
There was no doubt what he was doing and what they’d interrupted. Well, he’d have to pick it up later—if they had a later. That was up in the air.
“Uh, I was busy.”
“We have company,” he said as he held up his gun, and Curtis too.
He got it right away.
Dante opened the door, and they headed in. Steele was in bed and naked. He looked disheveled.
“Uh, are we having a sexy man party?” he asked.
“We have intruders,” Dante stated. He was all about joking around, but this was NOT the time.
“We have four people in the house who shouldn’t be here. We need to confront them.”
That was all Steele had to hear. Immediately, he hopped out of bed and pulled on his pants while his husband pulled on his boots and a t-shirt.
“I’m ready,” he said, pulling his gun from the nightstand drawer. “Let’s see who we have visiting us. I doubt they are here for condolences.”
Yeah, Croft too.
Curtis headed over to the wall-mounted monitor in Dante’s room. There were five control centers in the house. One in the kitchen, one in Dimitri’s room, one in Curtis’s, one in Greyson’s, and one here.
He began typing, and the control center kept beeping at him like he was doing something bad.
“Uh, that can’t be good.”
“It’s jammed,” he said.
“What?” Greyson stated. “We have one of the top security systems in the country. How does one jam it?”
God!
He really wished Dimitri was there.
“Someone jammed it. I can’t even tell where they are. I can pick up the number of heat sources, but the signal is scrambled.”
Greyson tapped his watch.
Dimitri once said their watches would work autonomously from the house’s security centers.
He hoped he wasn’t wrong.
“Living room.”
It showed him the bodies moving, and then one small one had joined them.