“You know who,” she wails, shaking her head, “He gave me...t-ten thousand dollars...to do this to me...and s-say it was Tyke. I tried to say n-no, but...he knows where my family lives, in Indiana. And I couldn’t...I couldn’t...”
“It’s OK Belle,” I whisper, tucking her candy-colored hair behind her ear. “I don’t blame you. Neither will Tyke. But Belle...I need you to tell me who did this to you. I need you to say his name for me.”
“I can’t do that,” she insists, looking at me in terror, “I told you, he’ll kill me. My family. What the hell could you even do if I told you—?”
“Plenty,” I whisper, digging my badge out of my purse and flipping it open for her to see. Her eyes go wide as she registers my meaning. “Belle, my name is Quinn Collins. I’m a special agent with the FBI,” I say evenly. “And I have reason to believe that a fellow agent has gone totally off his fucking rocker. Pardon my French. I want to take this motherfucker down, and I think I can do it, too. But first, I need you to tell me who did this to you.”
She holds my gaze as her frantic thoughts settle. A look of steely determination comes over her face as she comes to her decision.
“Bruno,” she whispers, clasping my hand tightly. “It was Jeff Bruno.”
For a moment, it’s all I can do to take her words in. I don’t dare let myself feel the full extent of my anger just now. I don’t trust myself to. I simply give Belle’s hand a gentle squeeze.
“Thank you,” I whisper, my voice ragged, “Thank you, Belle. I’m so sorry this happened to you. Please believe me when I tell you that I’m going to do everything in my power to bring this asshole to justice.”
“Do you think Tyke will ever be able to forgive me?” she asks tearfully, looking younger than ever in that moment.
“I think...it’s impossible to guess what people are capable of,” I say slowly, “but my best guess is that Tyke’s more than capable of compassion. And forgiveness.”
“I hope so,” she whispers, falling back against the dressing room wall, “I really hope so.”
“I’m going to send back some of the other girls to take care of you,” I say to Belle. “You need to go to the emergency room.”
“OK,” she whispers.
“Oh, and Belle,” I go on, pulling myself to my feet, “if anyone asks, I introduced myself to you as Keira Campbell. All right?”
“All right...” she mutters, shaking her head. “Man. You MC people are a fucking strange bunch, you know that?”
“That does seem to be the case,” I smile softly, turning to go.
My heart is pounding in my ears as I make my way back out into the main club. I give orders to the girls about what needs to be done for Belle. They’re so relieved that someone was able to comfort her that they drop their improvised weapons and flock to their sister in need. I turn next to the pack of baffled MC brothers. Each looks more gobsmacked than the next.
“Well?” Mac finally demands. “Care to enlighten us about what the hell is going on?”
“I’m not sure just yet,” I tell him, “but I hope to be soon.”
I make my way wordlessly past them, and feel Brooks instantly at my side. As we march back into the sweltering night, two words clarify in my reeling, roiling mind.
It’s on.
Chapter Eighteen
The momentum that’s been building since Bruno slammed me up against that armored van and threatened my life is soaring to its peak. I’ve got my hands wrapped tightly around this situation’s reins, and all I’ve got to do is hang on. But this is unlike anything I’ve been trained for, unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. For all I know, I’m about to get bucked out of the saddle and crushed in a stampede of circumstance. But what else can I do but see this through?
I was dragged into this mess before I even knew the extent of it. The second Mitchell chose me to take on this Vegas assignment I became a player. Bruno tried to scare me off, send me running for the hills, but he only brought me closer to the center of the action. I have no idea how far and deep this thing runs, but I know I can’t turn my back now. After what happened to Belle, how could I leave the Nine and the Wraiths alone to get blindsided? What if Bruno’s next target is Kassie, or Kelly? I’m not going to let him get away with this. I can’t.
Brooks and I head back to the penthouse to regroup. We can’t stay at my place, it’s just not safe enough. Hopefully, The Mayor can hold down the fort while I’m gone. I trust that cat to take on just about anyone. No, right now, the penthouse is our best bet. If you’re going to plan the take down of a dangerous criminal, might as well do it in style, right?
I’m silent as we hurry into the high rise, guarded as ever by the doorman, Franklin.
“Mr. Tiberi called ahead to say I could expect you both,” the usually chipper man says, “I’ll secure the premises now that you’re inside.”
I raise an eyebrow at the doorman. What does he mean, secure the premises? With a solemn glance, Franklin pulls back the front of his uniform to reveal a serious-looking piece.
“Thanks Franklin,” Brooks says, leading me toward the elevator, “good to know you’ll be on guard.”
“What is he, a hit man or something?” I whisper, as we step into the elevator.
“Former hit man,” Brooks corrects me. “Current...private security coordinator.”
My head is spinning as we make our way into the gorgeous penthouse suite. Routes forward light up in my brain, sparking along like fireworks. I don’t have time to think of eventualities, we have to act fast. Bruno’s escalating this conflict with exponential speed and intensity. There’s no room for playing nice here. I sink down onto the leather couch, resting my elbows on my knees. Vegas is lit up through the floor-to-ceiling windows before me, but I can’t concentrate on the stunning view. My next move swims up and crystalizes in my mind as Brooks sits down next to me, two cold beers in hand.
“It was Bruno,” I tell Brooks through gritted teeth. “He beat up Belle, and tried to pin it on Tyke.”
“Sonofabitch,” Brooks growls, taking a long swig of beer. “So, what now? Are you going to go to your agent in charge?”
“No,” I reply, sipping my beer, “no, that won’t do it. I have to handle this myself.”
“Yourself? Red, what the hell do you mean?” Brooks asks, his eyes teeming with conflicted concern. “This guy is clearly dangerous. He could seriously fuck you up, or...what are you doing?”
I’ve whipped out my cell and opened up a new message. Before Brooks can stop me, I’ve sent off a text to my monstrous fellow agent.
I know what you’re doing. I want to help.
“There,” I mutter, as the text goes through.
“Are you insane?” Brooks asks, snatching my phone away. “He’s a maniac.”
“All the more reason to stop him,” I point out.
“That’s what the goddamn FBI is for,” Brooks says, grabbing my shoulders.
“You know as well as I do that the FBI will never take him out,” I say quietly. “Just like the Navy was never going to stop that asshole who went after Natalie. Sometimes you have to take justice into your own hands, right?”
“Red—”
“Isn’t that what you told me, Brooks?” I insist, taking his face in my hands.
“Yes...” he allows, his jaw clenched tightly, “But I didn’t mean your hands. I can’t watch you put yourself in harm’s way. What if something—?”
“Something terrible could happen at any time. To anyone,” I insist, pressing against him. “We know that better than anyone. But that doesn’t mean we should shy away from doing what we know is right. I have to stop this fucker if I can, Brooks. And I’m going to need your help.”
“I can’t lose you,” he says, wrapping his arms tightly around my waist.
“Then don’t,” I whisper, running my fingers through his curls. “Help me, Brooks.”
“How am I supposed to think straight with you so close to me?” he murmurs.
; “You’re not. That’s sort of the point,” I grin, brushing my lips against his throat. He groans as I run my hands down his chest, straddling him right there on the couch.
“Tell me what you have planned,” he breathes, grabbing my ass as I grind against his stiffening cock.
“In a minute,” I whisper, closing my eyes as I feel him growing hard against my sex. “This loose cannon shit has got me all worked up. I think I need to blow off some steam.”
“Well that I can help you with,” Brooks says, bringing his face toward my heaving chest. I gasp as he tugs down the front of my top, freeing my breasts in one swift motion. He wraps his lips around my hard nipple, tracing circles there with his dexterous tongue.
Surely, logistics can wait until after a good fuck.
By the time I awake the next morning, stark naked and pressed against Brook’s hard body, Bruno’s reply is waiting on my phone. I roll out of bed as soundlessly as I can and pad into the kitchen. Heart beating like crazy, I open the text and stare down at Bruno’s message.
You want to meet, little girl?
I scowl at the message before shooting back a response; I do, in fact, want to see him. I send along a set of coordinates and a time—high noon. Hopefully, Bruno’s got a little flair for the dramatic.
After a time, he agrees. The meet is set. My nerves have already skyrocketed so high that I’ve reached a state of strange calm. However this next move of mine plays out, at least I know that I’m doing something to stop this man. And if something should happen to me along the way...well, best not to think about that just now.
“Is everything set?” I hear Brooks’ voice ask from across the suite.
I turn to see him framed in the bedroom doorway, not a stitch of clothing on his incredible body.
“What’s that?” I smile. “I got distracted.”
“You’ve got a one-track mind is what,” Brooks says, shooting me his crooked grin. “Did the fucker agree to meet with you?”
“He did,” I say, gripping the edges of the kitchen counter. “It’s all happening.”
“And you’re sure you want to go through with this?” Brooks asks, pulling on his jeans.
“I’m sure,” I whisper.
“There’s no way I’m going to talk you out of it?” he presses, striding across the suite toward me.
“Not a chance,” I smile, wrapping my arms around his bare torso.
“Well then,” he growls, planting a deep kiss on my lips, “we’d better get you ready for your little play date, then.”
“Thank you,” I whisper, kissing along the sharp line of his collarbone. “Thank you for letting me do this.”
“Yeah right,” he laughs softly, “as if there’s any letting you do anything. You’re a strong, fierce, fucking stubborn woman. You go your own way.”
“Well, thanks for not trying to stand in my way then,” I smile.
“Are you scared?” Brooks asks, lifting my face back to his.
“Terrified,” I admit.
“Of getting hurt?” he asks, his face clouded with concern.
“I don’t really care if I get hurt,” I tell him, tracing the outline of his chest tattoo with the tip of my finger, “but I don’t want to hurt you by letting something happen to me.”
“Well,” Brooks breathes, kissing the top of my head, “Better not let anything happen to you, then.”
“I’ll do my best,” I say.
“Is that a promise?” he asks.
“I promise,” I whisper, looking up into his shining green eyes.
“And...when this is over,” he goes on, his voice low and hoarse, “what then? Between us, I mean.”
“One thing at a time,” I tell him. “Now come on. Help me get ready.”
Chapter Nineteen
The dry, hot breeze picks up on the barren hillside, setting a vortex of dust spinning around my ankles. I stand with crossed arms, huge sunglasses fixed firmly over my face. The cool metal of my handgun, resting against the small of my back, isn’t doing very much to ease my nerves or fight the noontime heat. But there’s no turning back now.
Stand up straight, I coach myself, checking my watch for the umpteenth time. You look tougher when you don’t slouch, Collins. Uncurling my spine, I rake my eyes along the hilly horizon, searching for a sign of life. One way or another, this whole thing is almost over. Just as soon as...
There. A cloud of dust, kicked up by a trundling jeep that’s headed directly toward me. My heart collides painfully with my ribcage as I brace myself for what comes next. I’ve never felt more exposed on than I do right now. I’m used to having the strength of the FBI right behind me, but this is uncharted territory. It’s just me, up alone on this hill, with a violent maniac coming my way.
And to think I thought this assignment might end up being uneventful.
The jeep roars over the rise before me, skidding to a halt across the flat expanse of land. I wrestle my features into a mask of composure as the driver’s door flies open. Jeff Bruno swings himself down from the vehicle, drawing himself up to his full, hulking height. He squares his broad shoulders, a smug sneer curving his meaty lips. A subtle quake begins to destabilize my legs. Dammit—I can’t let him see how scared I am.
“Long time no see, Collins,” he says, taking a swaggering step toward me.
“You’ve been keeping pretty busy in the meantime, haven’t you?” I return, holding my ground. “Thanks for coming to meet me, Bruno.”
“My curiosity got the better of me,” he shrugs, “I had to come see just what the hell you hope to accomplish with this little rendezvous.”
“I told you,” I say simply, “I want in on this scheme you’re running.”
“Scheme?” Bruno scoffs, “This ain’t no slumber party, Collins.”
“Racket, then. Whatever,” I reply, “I want a piece of the action.”
“What action are you referring to, little lady?” Bruno grins, closing the space between us.
“You’re clearly working to take down the Devil’s Wraiths and Dante’s Nine in one fell swoop,” I begin, refusing to budge an inch as Bruno creeps closer, “And there’s only one reason you could possibly have for going out on a limb and manufacturing a case against them. Money.”
“Who says I’m manufacturing a case against them?” Bruno asks, widening his eyes in mock innocence.
“If you weren’t, you wouldn’t be trying to shake me off the case,” I shrug, “You didn’t want me reporting back to Mitchell that there was nothing to see at the clubs. Especially not since he put a time limit on Operation Inferno.”
“Maybe I didn’t want you around because I don’t like dealing with whiny little bitches,” Bruno snaps.
“Belle Taylor told me everything,” I spit back, whipping out my trump card, “You tried to set Tyke Bronson up for assault. One brother goes down, they all go down. Right? Pretty good idea. You couldn’t have anticipated that she’d talk to me.”
“I certainly couldn’t,” he growls, his fists clenching menacingly.
“Lucky for you,” I press on, “I’d rather get myself a slice of whatever you’re bringing in to take those guys down than play the good cop here.”
“Is that so?” Bruno asks, cocking an eyebrow above his reflective aviators.
“Sure is,” I assure him, “You know how to play the game, Bruno. I took a little stroll along your track record at the Bureau. You’ve got this agent-for-hire thing down to a science, don’t you?”
“You digging up dirt on me, little girl?” Bruno growls, his voice deadly.
“Just admiring your prowess,” I offer, the tremor in my legs beginning to grow. “I want to help you, Bruno. Whoever you’re taking money from must have enough to buy a second agent. So, who is it? From one turn coat to another.”
“I’m not a turn coat, you little piece of shit,” he spits, color creeping up into his neck. “I’m helping to take down two criminal organizations here. So what if I pocket a little cash along the way?”
“You’re right,” I say quickly, “It’s not like we get paid enough for what we do. Gotta find a way to pay those bills.”
“You making fun of me, Collins?” Bruno presses, kicking up the dirt as he walks toward me. “That’s not a very smart move for a little girl like you. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we seem to be all alone up here.”
“That...that’s true,” I whisper, backing up against my Mustang, “I was hoping we could keep things friendly—”
“Were you?” Bruno laughs, looming over me. His gigantic form casts a shadow over my gaze, and I can finally see his furious expression up close. “I thought I made myself clear back at the field office. I warned you to get off my fucking back, didn’t I? Didn’t I tell you what would happen if you bothered me again?”
“You said...you’d...um...” I stutter.
“Kill you,” Bruno says, smiling sinisterly. “Did you honestly think you could get in on my game just by asking nicely? You’re a fucking child. This setup is all mine, little girl. I don’t need your help. I don’t need the FBI’s blessing. I’m above the law. I bring my own justice. You think you can scare me with your little beat-up hooker friend’s word behind you? Please. I’ve been with the Bureau for years. Decades. No one’s going to believe a word you say against me.”
“Is that so?” I say, my voice barely rising above a breath.
A strangled cry escapes my throat as Bruno seizes me by the front of my shirt, lifting me off the ground.
“You want me to prove it?” he roars, holding me up as I kick my legs wildly, hoping to land a hit.
“Let me go, you so sonofabitch!” I scream, “You’ve lost your mind—”
“Maybe,” he grins, every inch the homicidal maniac I always feared him to be, “Guess that leaves you in a pretty sticky situation, huh?”
“Come on Bruno,” I try to reason, “just take it easy. We can talk about—”
“I’m through talking, Collins,” he snarls, hoisting me up another inch. He looks my body over lasciviously, and I feel my blood turn to ice. “I’m ready for some action. I’m...”
Impulsively (Dante's Nine MC) Page 17