by Violet Blaze
She pauses suddenly and looks over at me, like she's waiting for a reaction.
“What? You think I'll bail if your mum doesn't warm to me right away? Love, I think you have a lot more to worry about from my family than I do from yours.”
“Oh God,” she groans as she runs a hand over her face. “I can't talk about any of this right now. Let's just find Kailey, make sure she's safe and worry about it later.” There's a long pause as I take the turn onto her sister's street, flicking off my headlights and taking it slow, just in case. “Royal, do you have any sisters? Or brothers? Jesus, I don't know a damn thing about you.” She exhales a harsh breath and points out the window before I get a chance to speak. “Stop. It's right here.”
Lyric goes for the handle on her door before I reach out and grip her shoulder. I don't see anything out of place here, but Mile Wide's not going to make a scene if they decide to kidnap the mayor's daughter.
“Hold up there, Pint-Size,” I say, letting go of her shoulder and climbing out of the truck with a hammer on my belt and a semi under my cut. I move around to Lyric's side and let her out, locking the doors and watching as she slips her gun inside her purse. She looks at me for a long moment, my eyes adjusting to the darkness, taking in the gentle, rounded curve of her jaw and cheeks, the feminine softness of her lips.
“Kailey is … oh, screw it,” Lyric says, reaching down and taking my hand, her small fingers curling around mine as she leads the way through the front gate and up the walkway. I let her guide us, my eyes searching the darkness for any sign of movement. I don't expect to see anyone from Mile Wide here tonight, but I sure as hell didn't expect Landon to betray me either.
Life's a bitch sometimes, isn't it?
We pause just outside the front door as Lyric digs around inside her purse and comes up with a key. She doesn't even knock; that's the thing that saves us.
The door unlocks, and I put a finger to my lips, putting Lyric behind me as I slip an arm along the red painted wood and push it inwards, letting it swing softly against the wall. A golden strip of light falls across the cement porch beneath our feet just a split second before a shot rings out, clipping the wood support beam to my right.
“Fuck.” I pull Lyric down and then slip inside the house, sliding my Ruger out and pushing my back into the stairwell to my right before standing up and aiming my gun over the railing. “Sorry, mate.” I pull the trigger once, putting a round through the man's muscular arm before I hit him in the back of the head with the butt of my gun. It takes me all of three seconds before I see the other guy at the top of the stairs.
“Royal!” Lyric screams, appearing in doorway behind me. I figured she was useless with her gun, bought it just to feel safe, but when I see it held steady in both hands, I know right away that's not the truth. “Get down!”
I drop low as she gets a shot off, grazing the man's shoulder and giving me enough time to move up the stairs and elbow him in the throat. He's a big bloke, and he doesn't go down easy, lifting his injured arm up and aiming directly at my fucking cock. A quick flick of my wrist, and his elbow bends the wrong way, the gun falling from his fingers.
I use my gun to hit him in the face, once, twice, three, four fucking times before he sags to the carpet with a harsh breath. A quick kick to the gut and another to the face, and he isn't getting up anytime soon.
There's blood everywhere and bullet holes, but I've already got my phone back in my hand, speed dialing up my boys.
“We're on Underwood Drive, near Hector. Get here.” I end the call when I'm halfway down the stairs, pausing next to Lyric as I pull her inside and shut the door. The Mile Wide boys had silencers on their guns, but Lyric doesn't. It's possible the cops'll show up.
I flick the locks and then put her behind me.
“Stay close, Pint-Size, and keep quiet, alright?”
She nods her head, her expression drawn and determined, like she didn't just a shoot a man, like she's done all this before. Carefully, I pull open the door across from us, finding a small powder room with nobody in it.
“Kitchen's down the hall on the left, living room straight past that. There's a pair of French doors that go outside, and to the right of those, an office.”
I feel a small smile pull at my lips as Lyric trails behind me down the hall, taking a supporting role as I survey the downstairs for any signs of life. There's nobody, and the back doors are locked several times over. Satisfied with that portion of the sweep, we double back and do the same thing for the upstairs, Lyric giving me the layout as I check both rooms and another bathroom.
“Kailey isn't here,” she says after I declare an all clear, checking both men to make sure they're still unconscious. “Kailey … isn't here,” Lyric repeats, breathing a sigh of relief. “They must've been waiting for her to come home.”
“Better tell that on-again, off-again bloke that he saved her life,” I say as I grab the arms of the first man and drag him down the hall, around the corner, and lay him on the floor in front of the kitchen island. A quick assessment of the blood in the hallway, and I know there's no way to clean this up before the cops get here. I suppose with some dim lighting and a little scrubbing, it might be alright. “Grab a bucket, something to wipe the splatter off the walls with. If you can hang something over that hole, all the better.”
Lyric looks back at me for a second and then nods, no hesitation or fear in the way she moves. It was like she was born to live a different life, something more exciting than being a monkey in a suit. Or hell, maybe she is right for politics? She does what needs to be done, no bones about it. I love it.
It takes an effort to pull myself away from Lyric, but I do, heading up the stairs and moving the second body out of sight. I flick the upstairs lights off, satisfied that if the police show up at the door, they won't be able to see anything.
Back down the stairs, my boots quiet against the carpet, I find Lyric with a nail and a hammer, putting a new hole right above the spot where the bullet entered the drywall. Within seconds, she has a family photo hung there like it's been gracing that spot forever.
“God, I bloody fucking like you, Lyric,” I say as I pass, pulling her in close for a quick kiss. She smiles as I race past and open the front door, running a hand over the splintered wood of the porch column. It's not obvious enough that somebody who wasn't familiar with the house would notice it, so I move on, into the powder room to clean up my hands, check for spots of blood on my clothes.
When my boys arrive at the door a minute later, the place is about as spic and span as it's gonna get, Lyric dragging a rug over the saturated red stains in the carpet.
“I've got two of them that need to go with Glacier,” I say, letting Dober and Smoky in the door, Mug right behind them. “But I need you to wait and see if the cops are going to show. Pick up anything on the police scanner?”
“Nothing about this,” Dober says, giving Lyric a long, lingering look before passing his gaze over to me. “They're swamped trying to deal with an illegal bonfire on the beach, bunch of drunk ass kids from Humboldt State with too much weed and too much alcohol. Somebody spray painted a dick on the lighthouse, and some tweaked out punk smashed in the windows at Murphy's and stole some beer. It's a busy Tuesday night in Trinidad, CA.”
“Bloody brilliant then,” I say as Lyric stands up and looks over at my officers with a polite sense of defiance, a look that says she isn't interested in whatever it is they might think. This ought to be fun. But I'm nervous at the same time I'm aroused, fucking aching for her. I want to slide my fingers through her hair, push her body into the wall and dip my fingers into the wetness between her thighs. Hell, I wouldn't even have to warm her up; she's probably already hot and ready for me.
I pass the keys to Smoky, yanking my gaze away from Lyric.
“Back the truck up the driveway,” I tell him, and he disappears in an instant.
“So. It's the mayor's other daughter then,” Dober says, putting together the pieces of the puzzle. La
ndon was a good VP, but Dober's looking to be even better. I feel my heart constrict at the memory of my dead brother, but I push it back. Now's not the time or place. There's no fucking space for feelings right now, just actions. “We know where she is?”
“No clue, but if we want to keep things smooth with the mayor and the city, then we should find her, make sure she's alright.” Dober and I stand there in the narrow hallway, looking at one another for several long seconds. I could order a detail for Kailey, sure. In theory, yeah, we should make certain she's alright, keep our dealings with the mayor free from any influence of Mile Wide. But I can't. It's not a wise maneuver, not with Lyric to deal with. I can only protect one Rentz girl, and only because she's mine. I need to make that clear: this isn't a political thing. This, this is my woman.
I pull out my mobile and hand it to Lyric.
“Call your sister again,” I tell her, but she's already dialing, moving towards the living room for some privacy. I watch her ass as she goes, turning back when Smoky opens the front door, Mug at his heels. Their ginger hair is like a shock to the goddamn system, bright as the fucking blood under my feet.
“Guy's upstairs,” I tell Smoky as he and his brother turn and head for the second unconscious body. Dober and I go for the first.
“That's great,” Lyric's saying, all false cheer and relief. “In fact, I was wondering if you'd be able to stay there?” A pause as Dober and I position ourselves on either side of the body. I grab the man under his armpits; Dober gets him around the ankles. Either one of us could move the guy ourselves, but dead weight is a hell of a lot easier to deal with when you've got help. “Listen, I know this is going to sound weird, but—” Lyric stops suddenly and makes a frustrated sound as Dober and I lock eyes above the body.
“She knows better than to say shit?” he says in a low, rough voice that I really don't fucking like. I grit my teeth at him as Lyric continues talking.
“Can you please stop for a second? Kailey. Kailey. Can I get a word in edgewise?” Another pause as Dober and I round the corner into the hallway and he casts a narrow eyed glare over his shoulder. “I need to tell you something important, so if you're not capable of listening, I'm coming over there.” Another pause. “The guys that tried to mug Sully, the ones the Wolves chased off? Well, they were at your house tonight.”
Dober raises his eyebrows as I smirk, shouldering open the crack in the front door and moving as quickly as I can to get the guy in the bed of my truck. I help Dober toss him onto the tailgate, wiping some blood on my jeans as I move back to the cab and grab some rope from the backseat. I grabbed it to tie some rubbish down in the bed, and left it there. Looks like it's going to come in handy tonight.
I pass the coil over to Dober and let him do the honor of trussing up our new mate, moving back inside just in time to hear the tail end of Lyric's conversation.
“I'll let him know. Okay, Kailey. I love you, too.” And then she hangs up with a sigh, running her fingers through her brunette waves and glancing over her shoulder at me as I move out of the way for Smoky and Mug. “That was … difficult,” she says as she watches them take the second man outside with a faraway look in her eyes. When she moves that green gaze back to me, I can't resist anymore, taking a few long strides across the living room until I'm holding her by the hips, pulling our bodies together.
“You've got bloody good instincts,” I tell her and she smiles, slightly. It fades away just as quick, but I kiss her anyway, a flash of tongue, a press of hot heat that she returns by arching into me, giving herself up to me like she can't wait a second longer. When I pull away, there's a crinkle of skin between her eyebrows as she frowns.
“I think Kailey might actually listen to me for once,” she says with a sigh, leaning into me, the soft press of her breasts against my abs igniting a glorious erection inside my jeans that I don't bother to resist. She feels it, too, and her mouth twitches.
“We need to go back to the clubhouse,” I tell her and wait for the expression on her face to change. It does, but not in the way I'd expected. There's no fear or trepidation or even nervousness there, just a firm resolve that locks into place and makes that hard-on in my pants even harder. Fierce. Like a wolf, like another alpha.
Good. Because I never wanted a bitch.
I smirk at her, but she doesn't notice, her eyes on the front door as Dober comes back in. I turn and watch the two of them exchange a look. Neither looks particularly impressed.
This is going to get messy.
The clubhouse. The club. The other women.
They might not like her at first, but they'd best get used to it because I'm pretty damn sure I've just found them their new queen.
That creepy blond guy is waiting for us when we arrive at the Alpha Wolves Compound, a big smile on his face and a pair of … kitten patterned pajama pants on his legs? I have to blink three times at the sight before Royal leans over with a smirk and breathes hot against my ear, making me shiver.
“Glacier's completely insane,” he whispers. “Just try not to make eye contact with him.”
I do anyway, meeting the ice blue of his eyes before I get the chills again. Hmm. But as strange as he seems, at least he's smiling at me. That other guy, the one with the beard and the dragon tattoo, he looks at me like I'm the enemy, the one that dragged him out of bed in the middle of the night to haul bodies around.
Bodies that aren't really bodies, I remind myself because they're not dead. No, these guys are very much alive—but for how long? I cross my arms over my chest, hate, hate, hating that I'm still wearing my suit. I really should've changed. Next time, I'm not going to fight the urge; I'm just going to do it.
I breathe in deep, a salty ocean teased breath that fills my lungs and calms the racing of my heart. On the outside, I think I look calm. On the inside, I'm freaking out. What am I doing here? I think as I follow Royal up the steps of the redwood deck, the wood dotted with moisture from the fog, the branches of the giant evergreen trees above our heads shifting and waving in the nighttime breeze.
Inside, it's warm and quiet, the lights dimmed, the sitting area to my left empty, the staircase to our right dark. I reach up and ruffle my hair, keeping my gaze forward, my back straight. This is Royal's world, not mine, and the rules here are different; I have to remember that.
We enter the bar area, a few TVs still on, some glasses still dotting the bar. That blond woman I met my first night here—Fauna, I think her name is—stands behind the marble countertop with her husband, raising her eyebrows when she catches sight of me.
“Well, well, if it isn't Little Miss Deputy Mayor,” she says with a small smile, jerking her chin in the direction of one of the metal bar stools. “Have a seat, doll. You look like you could use a coffee.” I watch a subtle nod from her husband, Jack, as he runs his fingers down his dark beard and Royal lifts up a hand, gesturing for him to follow.
There's this split second where Royal hesitates, where I can see the muscles in his shoulders and back go tense, where he almost looks over his shoulder at me. I stare at the snarling wolf face on the back of his leather vest, the patches on either side as well as above and below it. An entire story, right there on the back of a cut.
I know what he's thinking in that frozen instance, if he should stop and talk to me, tell me that I have to wait here even though I hate it, even though I want nothing more than to follow him outside and down that pergola covered path, inside those wooden doors to the chapel.
Then time speeds back up and he's moving away, out the doors with four guys on his heels.
“Late night church session, boys,” is the last thing I hear before he disappears completely, and I take a seat on a chair made of welded motorcycle pieces, my hands just starting to shake. I shot a guy today. I might not have killed him, but I pulled a trigger and put a bullet through his arm.
“You up for some more Johnnie Walker?” Fauna asks with a laugh, flashing me those white teeth of hers. “If ever there was a time for drinking, no
w might be it.”
I hesitate for a second, glancing over my shoulder at the clock on the wall. It's a steel silhouette of a curvy woman on a motorcycle, one of the wheels decorated with black numbers. Holy crap. It's almost four in the morning, and I have work tomorrow.
I turn back to Fauna.
“Why the hell not?” I ask and she laughs again, putting a hand on her denim clad hip as she looks me over.
“That's the spirit, Deputy Mayor,” she says as she gets out the booze and pours me a generous glass, pushing it across the black marble with an understanding smile. I don't know how much she knows about Royal and me, but her gaze is sympathetic. “Rough night, I take it?”
I look up at her kind eyes, the laugh lines around her mouth, the streak of color in her hair. It's as blue as her eyes. I have no idea what I'm 'allowed' to talk about, so I just shrug my shoulders and shake my head.
“You have no idea,” I say as I tip the glass back and feel my throat constrict against the burn. My lips tingle when I set it down, watching Fauna as she studies my face. “And I still have to get up and go to work in the morning.”
“That's club life for ya,” she says as she pours another drink and comes around the bar to sit with me. “By the way, you got a little blood on your skirt,” she adds once she's settled, poking a long manicured fingernail at a few dark spots on the gray fabric. I look down with a shiver and then flick my gaze back up when Glacier appears in the doorway. He winks and salutes us before breezing through and disappearing out the back.
What did he do with those guys? I wonder as I take another sip of my drink and let the alcohol curl warm and heavy in my stomach. I can already feel the shaking in my hands subsiding. Where are they? With the guy from the hijack? Is he even still alive?
“You want to borrow some clothes or something? I always bring extras with me to work. You have no idea how rowdy it can get around here.”
I smile tightly.
“I can only imagine,” I say as I take a deep breath and stare into my drink, wondering what it is that I'm supposed to be doing right now. I'm not used to waiting around like this. When something needs to be taken care of, I deal with it. Mile Wide represents a danger to my family, to myself, my career, so I'm willing and ready to do whatever I need to get rid of them. The first step would be to talk to Sully, see exactly how deeply he's involved in all of this, how much he knows.