Power Twist: Power Play Series Book 2

by Mitchell, Kennedy L.

“Keep talking to me, Tae,” I wheeze as I slide my suitcase out. “I'm here.” As she rambles, her voice quivering, I toss several types of clothes into the suitcase and the prepacked toiletries I keep on hand.

  “I'm here.” The light ding of an overhead door offers some relief. She made it. He'll take care of her until those dumbass agents can get to her. I’m going to kill them.

  On the other end of the phone, she asks someone for Tiny, telling them she needs his help. Soon a familiar high-pitched voice pierces through the phone. “He's here,” Taeler says. A long pause of the two talking, then more shuffling. “Okay, he's taking me to the back, said I'm safe until you get here.”

  I slump back against the wall, tears of relief welling in my eyes. “Great, I'll be there as soon as I can. I’m sure your protection team is already on its way to meet you, but don’t leave, you hear me? I shouldn't be more than a few hours. Call me if anything happens. Love you, Tae.”

  Dropping the phone to the floor, I press both hands to my damp face and breathe in deep.

  “We already called to get Air Force Two ready,’” Trey murmurs. I nod into my still trembling fingers. “It'll be okay, Mess. You got her somewhere safe and her agents—”

  “They’re fired,” I hiss. “Idiots.”

  Guilt slams into my chest, making me almost double over at the building pressure. Yeah, they screwed up letting her out of their sight, but the only reason she’s even in danger is because of me. My one reason for breathing is terrified right now because of my stupid ambitions and idiotic idea. I knew the risks taking this role, knew the dangers being indebted to men like Kyle and Shawn would bring. But I can't process this.

  Discreetly, I wipe my snotty nose as I lower my hands. The moment our eyes lock, he offers a stiff nod of acceptance.

  “Let's go.” My gaze falls to his extended hand. Eager for the instant comfort his touch offers, I slide my fingers through his. With a small tug, I'm pressed against his chest, chin tilted up to see his handsome face. “And don't worry. You can shower on the plane.”

  I huff an unexpected laugh. Leave it to this man to make me laugh when the walls are crushing in all around me.

  Rolling my shoulders, I stand straight and take a deep breath.

  “Okay, Trouble. Let's get to Austin.”

  Chapter Ten

  Randi

  Even the gentle hum of the plane's engines does nothing to calm me from the anxiety-riddled high. Two whiskeys and I’m still wired, worried as hell and nowhere to go. The two more hours to Austin might as well be ten with all the pent-up nervous energy coursing through my veins.

  The ball of one foot bounces against the plane’s belly while the other swings furiously back and forth in the air. Uncrossing my legs, I switch sides and recross them with a huff of impatience.

  “You're driving us all crazy, Mess,” Trey says through a yawn which he tries to hide behind a tight fist. “She’s safe, and the agents are with her now. We can't do anything further until we get there, so calm the hell down, would you?” His eyes flick to Grem. “Get her another drink and some food.” Looking back to me, those brown eyes narrow in concentration. “Have you eaten today?”

  I shrug and go back to my fidgeting.

  “This is bullshit,” T grunts. “The other agents are there with her. We don’t need to go. There isn’t enough time to gather intelligence, plan a route, plan an alternate route. We need more time.”

  “I'll just tell that to the fucker who's following Tae,” I snap. “We'll be fine, T. But we can't wait.”

  “We're running on empty as it is. Plus only a few of beta team's guys got to the tarmac before we took off. This is a bad idea, Randi.”

  “Fine, you stay on the plane with your graphs and shit while I go get Taeler.” I plaster a sickly sweet smile on my face. “How's that for a plan?”

  “Don't get sassy with me, Randi,” T growls. “You're my responsibility—”

  “And Taeler is mine!”

  “We can't just go running—”

  “She's in danger, T. What else is there to do but go after her?”

  “Her agents are with her now. She’s no longer in trouble.”

  I snort in annoyance, then cross my arms over my chest and shoot him a death glare.

  Trey stands with a groan, his knees popping as he shakes out his legs. “Listen, kids, break it up. Tensions are high, and we all need sleep. You need food,” he says, pointing to me. Turning to face T, he bends forward and rummages through his duffel bag. “You need a Snickers.” Still bent over, Trey pulls something from the bag and tosses it to T, who catches it midair. “You're not yourself when you're hungry.”

  I huff, knowing full well that won't end this fight.

  Wait, what?

  My jaw slacks as I watch T devour the king-size candy bar in less than three bites. Did he even chew, or is he some form of chipmunk where he stores food in his jaw for later? I tilt my head, brows furrowed, trying to figure out what kind of twilight zone I've stepped into.

  After licking his fingers, T nods to Trey and relaxes back into his seat, shuffling papers around the desk while murmuring to the few team members sitting nearby.

  My seat jostles, snapping my attention from the now-subdued T to Trey as he situates in the seat beside me once again.

  “Works every time,” Trey whispers in my ear.

  Still staring, I give my head a small shake. “Seriously? How many of those do you have in there?” I ask, hitching my chin toward his still-open duffel.

  “I keep the bag stocked. Don't worry, I have enough to keep you two from killing each other.” Leaning across the aisle, he thrusts a hand into his bag and pulls out another candy bar. “Here. You need one too if you won’t eat real people food.”

  Gripping the edge of the brown wrapper, I split it open, revealing the delicious chocolate, peanut, and caramel creation. Normally at this point my mouth would be watering and a huge chunk would already be missing from the end, but even this is unappetizing. But if eating a few bites will get Trey off my ass, then this is the lesser of two evils. There’s no way I could choke down real food right now, no matter how good it is on this plane.

  Taking a quick nibble, I wrap it back up and set it on the side table. Trey's lips dip, his eyes following the mostly untouched candy bar.

  “Thanks,” I say, dusting off my hands. “Just not really hungry right now. Too worried. The fact that tonight is even happening….” Reaching over, I press the Home button on my phone, making sure I haven't missed a call or text from Taeler.

  A large, rough hand wraps around my own, pulling it back to my lap. “She's safe, Randi. We can't do anything until we land, and once we do, it's our job to keep you safe and get you to her. Relax, think about something else.”

  I blow out a hard breath. “Like what?”

  “I don't know.” His gaze flicks around the plane before landing on the uneaten candy bar. “What's your favorite candy? Obviously not Snickers.”

  A small smile pulls at my lips. “I do love a good candy bar. I’m not sure you'd call that one my favorite, but it was one I bought a lot when we had the money.”

  “Why did you buy it, then, if it's not your favorite?”

  Leaning back in the seat, I allow my eyes to flutter closed. The memories shift through of those rare times Mom was coherent and had some spending money. As a kid, I didn’t think about where the extra money came from, but now I do. Maybe the revolving door of men in and out of our trailer weren’t just boyfriends. My stomach churns at the thought.

  “It might be hard for someone like you to understand, but when you get stuff like that from Dollar General, you want to make your money stretches. I learned quickly which candy was the biggest bang for your buck, and a Snickers was just that. Protein, caramel, chocolate. So I typically chose that one, though it was less out of it being my favorite and more out of need.”

  I peel my lids open, cutting my gaze to Trey at the long pause to monitor his reaction.

 
“Well, that's just fucking sad, Mess.”

  I can't hold back my obnoxious snort. Trey's eyes crinkle at the edges, displaying the laugh lines I like so much. The other men pause their whispered conversation to stare at me.

  “Sorry,” I mutter, still smiling. “Yeah, I guess it is, Trouble. I guess it is.” Chewing on my thumbnail, I think over his original question. “I don't know if I have a favorite though. Maybe hard candy, but I like chocolate too. Especially holiday chocolate.”

  “Like chocolate bunnies and Santas?”

  I nod. “I don't know why it always tastes better when it's meant for something special, not just an everyday treat. Like those Reese’s pumpkins around Halloween. Yum. And if you waited until the day after the holiday, you got the stuff on sale, so double bonus.” I pick up the barely touched Snickers and take a small bite. “But not Peeps. That shit is disgusting.”

  “Agreed. If I wanted a marshmallow, I'd buy a big fucking marshmallow, not one that tastes stale.”

  “Right!” I agree with excitement. “Maybe I'll misuse my new power and ban those from the US. I can do that, right?” My cheeks begin to ache from the wide smile that seems to keep growing.

  “Pretty sure people would question it, but sure, you could try. I'd back you.”

  “Benson,” T calls out, drawing our attention. “I need your thoughts on something.”

  Trey's dark hair falls forward, brushing across his forehead as he nods. With a quick glance to me, he offers a smile and small wave. “Duty calls, Mess. Eat that, and then try to get some sleep. It will be a long night.”

  Watching him shift across the aisle to where T and the others sit, I admire his ass in those dark gray slacks. Wonder if I could convince him to sneak back into the bedroom with me for a quickie. I mean, I did shower, so there’s that, and as hell-bent as he is on me relaxing, that’s a surefire way to calm me down. It could even be one of those mostly clothed fuck sessions where only the needed areas are exposed.

  Like he can feel my heated stare—or hell, maybe hear my thoughts—Trey peeks over his shoulder. I tear my gaze from his round ass as a knowing smirk pulls at his lips, his tongue sliding out to swipe along the full lower one. With an exaggerated wink, he turns back to the guys, jumping right back into the conversation.

  Wetness pools between my legs and a throb beats with its own pulse between my thighs. I squeeze them together, hoping to quell the building ache. Fuck, this guy turns me on with a single wink. How does that even happen? I'm in such trouble with Trouble. No doubt about it.

  I press a button, lowering the back of the chair nearly flat, and curl on my side.

  The second my mind quiets, the magnitude of what Trey just did for me sets in.

  Somehow, with my pulse raging, my mind a mess, and tension near the snapping point, that man calmed me down, took my mind off Taeler being in danger, and got me to eat all in the process of ten minutes. The leather groans as I shift to my other side to face the men. Tucking my hands beneath my cheeks, I relax my lids and attempt to sleep like he suggested.

  Sleep doesn’t come, but the erotic fantasies I conjure are just as distracting.

  * * *

  “Benson, you're in the back with Randi,” T shouts as we all stomp down the plane's stairs. Though I’m not sure why he’s telling them again. I overheard them go over the lineup and plan more than a few times the last thirty minutes of the flight. “You three in the Suburban behind us, and you two in front.” No idea who he's talking to, but echoes of “Yes, sir” make it over the low whirling of the plane's slowing engines.

  A gentle hand presses against my lower back, directing me toward the middle Suburban of the three. Glancing up, I grimace in embarrassment. “Listen, T. I’m sorry about being snippy earlier. I—”

  He holds up his free hand, halting my apology. “Not needed. We were both tense. I allowed the stress to get the better of me, and I shouldn't have said what I said. Friends?”

  “Friends,” I say with a big-ass smile. At one time T was adamant that we weren't friends, just business. Seems I’m growing on the big guy. “You know, even though I'm already sore as hell and got my ass kicked more times than I can count, I really liked Sarah.”

  T's stone-cold features break protocol with an almost smile pulling at the corners of his lips. “She's one amazing woman. We'll work on getting you strong when we get back, then pick the self-defense lessons back up after. I don't like you not knowing how to defend yourself.”

  “I haven't been able to, ever. Why does it bother you now?”

  He shakes his head, the last bits of the fading sunset reflecting off his dark bald head. “I saw just how terrible you really are earlier.” Reaching forward, he palms the door handle and yanks it open. “I didn’t realize you were that bad.”

  “Eh, I have you guys now,” I say, giving his shoulder a quick comforting pat as I crawl into the SUV. “Now stop stalling. Let's go get Tae.”

  Once I'm situated inside the dark interior, the door slams shut. Three other doors jerk open, the outside light pouring inside. Glancing over to the seat beside me, I offer Trey a tight smile as he adjusts the massive gun strapped to his chest.

  “Is that really needed?”

  “Yes,” all three agents respond in unison.

  I roll my eyes in exasperation and lean against the door to stare out the window at the glorious fading Texas sunset. Soon we're speeding from the small private airport headed toward downtown Austin, where Taeler is currently hiding out. The earlier nerves and anxiety inundate my thoughts once again.

  What if we don't get there in time? What if whoever was following her is still around? How can I do this to Taeler? How can I be so selfish?

  The twenty-minute drive flies by, and soon we're weaving through the downtown streets making our way toward Hoodwink. I track every building, each street, mesmerized by all that’s changed in the past two decades and the few things that are still exactly the same as when I left this town. Ugh, fuck I'm old. How has it been that long since I was in undergrad?

  “The fuck?”

  T's confused tone pulls my attention from the window to where he sits tense in the driver seat. Grem is turned in the front passenger seat, his focus not on me but out the back window. Shifting, I ease the seat belt harness a little to follow his laser stare. My brows draw close, eyes narrow, attempting to see what they see.

  But there's nothing.

  I shrug and twist back around. Must be T being paranoid about something. Seconds tick by and still Grem doesn't turn, continuing to stare out the back window.

  “There,” he shouts, startling me. “I see it. Black Escalade. It cut between us and the follow Suburban. Seems to be taking every turn we do.”

  “Fuck,” T and Trey say together. In the rearview, their eyes meet.

  “What's going on, guys?” I say, trying to temper the nervous high pitch of my voice. But no one responds. The cab of the Suburban settles with an eerily tense silence.

  T bellowing my name is the only warning before he slams on the brakes. The car skids along the dark asphalt, the screeching of tires bouncing off the nearby buildings. I lurch forward and my neck snaps as the seat belt catches, preventing my face from colliding with the back of the driver seat. The back end fishtails, tossing me one way and then the other.

  Wide-eyed, I search for Trey through the madness. Now unbuckled, braced between the front passenger seat and his own, he’s aiming the large gun out the back window.

  “Hold on,” T shouts.

  I throw both hands out, grasping for anything to steady myself for whatever's about to come. T slams on the gas, jerking me backward at the force of the sudden acceleration. I sway as we weave in and out of the slower cars.

  “Did we lose them?” T barks.

  “No,” both Trey and Grem respond.

  “We have another visitor too,” Trey shouts. His gaze flicks from the back windshield to me. “It's okay, Mess. We'll be all right. Trust me.”

  My head snaps up
and down in a jerky nod. I do trust him, but that doesn’t calm my heart from thundering against my chest.

  “Get us out of downtown,” Trey shouts to Grem.

  “Trying,” he growls in return as he flips through the Nav. “Here.” Slamming a finger onto the screen, a new route appears. “This takes us to the local FBI office.”

  “FBI?” Trey and T shout, sounding annoyed rather than happy.

  “Those fuckers won't do anything,” T growls as he jerks the wheel right to avoid slamming into a slow older Ford truck.

  I shoot out an arm, bracing it on the center console to keep from toppling onto Trey.

  “I knew this was a bad fucking idea.”

  Why the hell T's words make me sad, I have no fucking clue. Hot tears well along my lower lids, threatening to spill over. “I'm sorry,” I choke out around the burning of unshed tears now clogging my throat.

  “Fucking hell, Randi. You get your shit together and don't fucking cry on me, you hear me?” T yells. “I didn't mean it like that and you know it. I'm just… fuck!”

  For once my body doesn't respond to his direct command. In fact, it does the opposite. Warm tears stream down my cheeks, dripping from my chin onto my gray long-sleeve T–shirt.

  “I can't help it, you ass,” I yell, swiping away the traitorous tears with the back of both hands. “It just happens. I'm telling Sarah you yelled at me.” Okay, not the best comeback, but it’s all I can come up with at the moment.

  “Wow, she's pulling out the big guns,” Trey says, his serious tone completely lacking his normal happy-go-lucky pitch.

  “Everyone hold on,” T warns.

  The soft leather digs beneath my nails as I tighten my grip and slam my eyes shut, preparing for the worst.

  The squealing of tires rips through my ears. Reflexively, my shoulders shoot up in an attempt to protect my hearing from the piercing sound. T shouts something, sending the other two into a flurry of movement. The seat belt snaps against my chest, knocking the breath from my lungs and whipping my head forward, nailing the headrest of the driver seat.