Jason (Kings of Guardian #4)

by Kris Michaels

  “It seems you have a problem, Mr. Clement.” Jason wasn’t sure how he did it, but his tone remained conversational. In reality, the only conversation he wanted with the motherfucker was with his fists.

  “Who the fuck are you?” The thug’s confused bravado came off weak, at best.

  “I’m the man you are trying to blackmail. Got to say, you have balls. Not many people would take on the CEO of Guardian Security.” Jason watched as his words worked through the alcohol or drugs that tainted the man’s reasoning.

  “Fuck me,” the man whispered.

  His Lima Team leader laughed out loud. “Boss, I can find someone to bust his cherry ass for him. Lots of men in prison.” A rumble of laughter came from behind him. Jason lifted his hand and clenched his fist, resulting in immediate silence.

  “You demanded money to relinquish your parental rights. I assure you, I don’t need your assistance to ensure you never see my son, but I thank you for the offer.”

  “Faith is a drugged-out slut and a cum dump, and I got the photographic evidence to prove it. The kid… he’s mine. My lawyers have the photos and will file the paperwork to ensure I get full custody. With her past, I can take him.”

  “You could try, but from prison, I’m not liking your chances.” Jason caught a slight movement from his right. A tall, lanky man with a scraggly beard shifted. Jason flicked a finger in the man’s direction and two red dots centered on his chest.

  “You move again and I’ll take it as a threat.” Jason refocused his attention on Clement. His people would handle the periphery.

  “I’m not going to jail.”

  “You will or you’ll go to hell. I wouldn’t force my hand in this, because I think I’d prefer you dead.”

  The gun had to have been hidden in the seat next to the bastard, because he had it out and fired a split second before his team and the men surrounding Horace ‘Hit’ Clement reacted. The impact of the bullet from the biker’s gun spun Jason.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “What are you going to tell Faith?” Jacob’s question pulled Jason’s attention away from his tablet. He glanced at his brother, who sat across the plane’s cabin.

  “Does he need to tell her anything? I mean, it’s not like we filled her in on the operation.” Jared’s question came from behind him.

  Jason straightened from the after-action reports the Detroit Police Department and the Michigan Bureau of Investigation had filed. Jewell’s people had forwarded them as soon as they hit the system. The Guardian techs hadn’t hacked, necessarily, as Guardian had memorandums of agreement in place with both agencies, but they’d definitely cut through the red tape and about twelve hours of wait time.

  He shrugged his shoulder and winced at the burn from the bullet wound on his bicep. That stupid son of a bitch, Hit, had taken a shot. He’d paid for it, too. The bastard had to have been high. Nobody with gray matter between their ears would have tried to take on the force Jason had led into the Demon Bastards clubhouse, no matter how many patched club members were present.

  Jason took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. The headache that started last night with the phone call Jared had taken at the restaurant was alive, well, and pounding like a jackhammer in his skull. What he wanted to do was to forget all about today, to pretend it hadn’t happened. He’d rather keep all this shit from Faith, adopt Reece and never look back. Unfortunately, what he’d like to do and what he needed to do were, as always, in direct conflict. “I’ll tell her. I can’t have this between us. I’ll tell her the reasons we went and explain how the show of force was supposed to stop the fuckers from getting stupid.”

  “Guess nobody told them.” Jared tossed that obvious tidbit into the conversation.

  “They took the first shot.” Jacob glanced at the white dressing on Jason’s bicep.

  “And we took the last.” Jared closed his eyes and shook his head. “Motorcycle riding thugs shrouded in arrogance and ignorance. They run drugs and illegal guns, and the stupid bikers think they are a paramilitary unit.”

  “Some of them had training. That core group, to the left as we were facing Hit, the ones who reacted when Hit shot at Jason? They moved like a well-trained fire team. They didn’t aggress, held the bikers’ reinforcements back with suppressing gunfire, all without giving away the fact they were helping us. Hell, they moved for cover with some of the same tactics we train with and use. Jewell is pulling their backgrounds, and if my instincts are right, I’ll send a recruitment team back to Detroit tomorrow to do an assessment. Might have some fresh blood.”

  “Or you might have a pre-existing undercover team from, say, the Michigan Bureau of Investigation or Detroit PD.” At Jared’s comment, Jacob whipped his head around and faced his brother.

  “Why wouldn’t they identify themselves?” Jacob’s question made sense from a strictly military perspective.

  “I’m not sure a federal or state agency would risk blowing their cover. Besides, when you run an op that deep, getting sent to jail adds more credibility. Hell, so does running drugs and transporting guns. As long as they don’t cross too far over the line, they validate the cover they are projecting.” Jared shrugged as if the idea of an undercover team wasn’t a big deal.

  “Huh. Regardless, if they are what I think they are, ex-military with or without police background, I can work with them. I’m always in the market for fresh blood.”

  “They’re cops. I’d have a better chance recruiting them.” Jared’s challenge was clear.

  “They’re military first.” Jacob raised an eyebrow, baiting his brother.

  Jason’s head couldn’t handle the inane banter, so he finished the cock measuring contest. Lord, at times like this he truly appreciated how easily Gabriel had handled the alpha bullshit he and his brothers spewed. Channeling his mentor, he halted the argument with calm, direct instructions. “It doesn’t matter. Get Jewell’s report and sort it out. Whatever the background, if they are legit, make the appropriate offer and get them to the ranch for training.”

  Jason returned his attention to the tablet, although his thoughts focused on how to tell Faith what had transpired in the last twenty-four hours.

  “You okay?” Jacob’s quiet question held one hell of a lot of meaning, and Jason knew he didn’t mean the fucking boo-boo on his arm.

  Jason nodded. “Yeah, I’m good.” Surprisingly, he was fine. The bullet had reamed his muscle and his arm was burning like a red hot poker, but the pain meant he hadn’t caved and accepted the pills that were offered. He’d rather live with the ache and burn than be balls deep back in that pit, and one pill was all it would take. He had a fiancée and a little boy that needed him.

  “Are the reports aligning?” Jared poured three fingers of scotch and plopped down next to Jason.

  “For the most part. Minor variations from different points of view. The MBI confirms the DPD’s investigation. The debacle was initiated by the Demon Bastards and we were there with properly executed federal warrants for the arrest of Horace ‘Hit’ Clement and five other CKs. Two of the bikers are talking. Said the old man was up from Atlanta and claimed he had information Hit could use. Seems Hit agreed. The bikers said the geezer was neck deep in drugs and women, compliments of Hit.”

  “That has to be how Hit got your name and made the call, but how did her father know?” Jacob took Jared’s scotch and took a swig. Jared sighed and retrieved the bottle and another glass. He also grabbed a soda for Jason before he sat down again.

  “The bastard was probably keeping tabs on her. If he thought for a moment he could use her or Reese, he’d do it.” Jason rubbed his eyes. They burned almost as bad as the bullet hole in his arm and the bruises forming on his ribs and jaw.

  Dirt on the son of a bitch was easy to find and present to a federal judge. By six in the morning, no more than eight hours after the man placed his call, they had their warrant, and Jared engaged the Domestic Operations branch to grease the response with the MBI and DPD.


  Gun trafficking, drug dealing, and tax evasion were the charges forming the foundation of the warrant, but Jewell’s team went above and beyond by jumping down the rabbit hole after information. They pulled DPD cold cases citing Demon Bastards involvement. The MC obviously had people inside the police department and judiciary, because cases that should have gone forward were dropped. Evidence that should have been presented at trial was mysteriously forgotten. Jason spent the majority of the plane ride to Detroit on a conference call with the Director of the MBI and Detroit’s Chief of Police. At last count, Guardian suspected six cops, three assistant district attorneys, and two judges of taking bribes to throw cases. The money trail was damn near foolproof. So far, the investigation also tied Horace ‘Hit’ Clement to the murders of three members of a rival motorcycle club.

  If by some miracle the weasel squirmed out of the original charges and the attempted murder charges for shooting Jason, well… he wouldn’t live long. One way or the other, the son of a bitch was going down hard.

  “Will her father live?” Jacob swirled the amber liquid in the crystal glass, focusing on the scotch as he spoke.

  “Not looking good. The bullet ricocheted around his chest cavity. He’s in surgery now.” Not that Jason gave a flying fuck, but Faith might. He was her father, after all.

  “Dude, your face… you should put some ice on that jaw.” Jared tapped his own jaw indicating the location—like Jason needed any help knowing where the hell the butt of the gun had caught his face.

  Like him, his men had a few nicks and scrapes. Nothing life threatening. The bikers weren’t exactly pushovers, and even though the majority were thugs who had more brawn than brains, a few of the enforcers were particularly vicious.

  “I’ll live.”

  “Yeah, thanks to us.” Jared’s mouth pulled up at the corners and Jason recognized the teasing tone.

  “Uh huh, right.” Jason shook his head. Not the way he recalled the situation.

  Jacob sat up and chimed in, “It’s true! If we hadn’t pulled you off that bastard, you would have killed him with your bare hands. We saved you from prison.”

  “Justifiable homicide. He shot me.” Jason leaned back against the soft leather chair.

  “Nah, you got a little non-life-threatening booboo and the man who shoots at you spontaneously turns into biker pulp? Any judge would throw your ass in jail. Admit it, we saved you.” Jared poured another drink for himself and topped off Jacob.

  “He’s still biker pulp.” The feeling of satisfaction warmed him as much as he knew the alcohol was warming his brothers.

  “Yes, but he’s breathing biker pulp.” Jacob lifted his eyebrow and waited.

  Jared winked at him. “That’s a fact, although he’ll be a mouth breather for the rest of his life. Dude, his nose was obliterated. How do you do that much damage with just your fists? I hope your knuckles hurt.”

  Jason grunted an affirmative sound and glanced down at his bruised knuckles. He pulled his swollen fingers into a fist. Damn, the crunch of bone and cartilage had felt so fucking good. Honestly, he felt exhilarated—not at the pain he’d inflicted, but knowing that the bastard would never have the balls to come after his family again. Yeah, that gave him 100% satisfaction. Fuck it if that mentality crossed him over to the dark side. He’d gone there before, and he’d stay on that side of midnight for the rest of his life if it meant Faith and Reece would be safe.

  Jacob nudged him under the table. Jason lifted his eyes to his brother. “I get it. If anyone threatened Tori or my babies? Believe me, I get it. Whatever it takes.”

  “As long as it takes.” Both Jared and Jason chorused the motto Guardian was founded on. For these men, it was more than just a saying. It was the way each and every member of his company lived.

  Jared leaned back and took a sip of his scotch. “Who’d have thought a year ago, we’d be here?”

  “Holy hell, not me.” Jason shook his head. “I was working through stacks of contracts trying to convince myself I was happy.”

  Jared chuckled. “Gabriel really has second sight, doesn’t he?”

  “Fuck, if that’s the case, it would have been nice if he’d told us about the orgy on the second floor of that warehouse. I really can’t unsee that. Honestly, I didn’t know slot ‘A’ actually fit into tab ‘B’ and tab ‘C’. Jacob laughed and tossed back his drink.

  “Hell, man, I could have told you that. That’s gay porn 101,” Jared deadpanned.

  Jason’s brain took a moment to realize what his brother had just admitted. He cleared his throat. “First time you’ve ever said anything like that out loud.”

  “Not like it’s a secret.” Jared shrugged.

  “Then why in the hell are you treating Christian like shit?” Jacob taunted.

  “He’s a child and not my type.”

  “What’s your type?” Jacob shot back.

  “Not him.”

  “He’s twenty-two years old, and according to Tori and Keelee, the guy is sexy.”

  “Dude, are you so whipped you sit around and talk feelings with your wife and her sister?”

  “No, but hell… I do have ears, and from what they said, the kid likes you.”

  “See! You said it yourself. He’s a kid. Not fucking interested.”

  “Riiight. He’s older than Faith, and you’ve given us your blessing.” Jason smiled at the blush that raced up Jared’s face at his taunting.

  “Shut the fuck up. What are you going to tell Faith?” Jared turned toward Jason.

  “Seriously? How is he supposed to shut up and answer your question?” Jacob chuckled at Jared’s glare. “It’s an obvious ploy to change the subject, but I’ll allow it.” Jacob let Jared off the hook.

  Jason rubbed the back of his neck and drew a deep breath. “I’ll tell her the truth.”

  “Dude, you’re going to tell her about the orgy?” Jacob’s innocent expression didn’t quite cover the smile that broke across his face.

  “Both of you are impossible.” Jason tapped his tablet, bringing his desktop back up.

  “Notice he didn’t say he wasn’t going to tell her,” Jared taunted.

  “I’m telling Tori. There were a couple of positions I’d like to try. Like the one where the guy had his…”

  “Oh hell no! Just no. I’m sorry, but really, you shut the fuck up. I don’t want to hear about you and your wife’s sex life.” Jared stood and walked back toward the galley of the plane. “I’m getting food.”

  Jason snickered at the comment. “Behave yourself, Jacob.”

  “Who? Me? I’m an angel!”

  “You are playing with fire. Leave him alone.” Jason pulled up the latest report from the hospital to review.

  “He’s one hell of a detective, but in this situation, he couldn’t find his ass with both hands. Christian is head over heels for that man.”

  “Was. I’m pretty sure Jared has ruined any interest Christian may have had, but that is none of our concern. Drop it. I promise you’ll only hurt someone if you get involved where you’re not wanted. Look at what Jared’s ‘good intentions’ did to Faith.”

  Jacob sighed. “Damn, did Tori talk to you?”

  “Yeah, Jacob, that’s what I do with all my spare time. I call your wife and talk about you and Jared, and we compare notes.”

  “See, I knew it.”

  “God, you’re a moron. Go pull your team’s initial reports so I can review them and send them to legal.”

  Jacob jumped up and saluted. “Aye, aye, my Capitan!”

  “Major.”

  “Yeah, a major pain in my ass.”

  “Still your boss.”

  “Until you fire me.”

  “Again!” Jared called from the galley in the back of the plane.

  Jason watched Jacob head back to his chair and tablet and shook his head. All of his brothers were powerful, dangerous and just a little fucked up. He was blessed.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  The all-day soak continued
to form cascading rivulets that branched into random patterns on their descent down the window glass. The soft patter of raindrops against the windowpanes usually soothed her nerves, but today was different. Faith mindlessly chewed what remained of her thumbnail. She’d managed to chew all her nails down to the quick. Jason didn’t sleep last night, at least not with her. She knew because his side of the bed wasn’t disturbed, and he was still gone when she woke. Other than a quick call early this morning, she hadn’t heard from him. The problem he was working had consumed not only him, but from what Tori told her, Jacob and Jared, too. Tori had called a couple times during the day to chat, but she hadn’t heard from Jacob either. She didn’t seem worried, so Faith tried to copy the woman’s calm acceptance… unsuccessfully. She was worried.

  Faith glanced at the clock again. It was late. She’d already fed Reece, did the bath time dance, read him a story and put him to bed. There was nothing on the million channels of television that held her interest, and the music that had played softly in the background did little to ease her nerves, so she turned it off. The creaks, pops and pings of the beautifully restored home seemed magnified by the silence.

  Tippy rolled onto his side and stretched. Faith buried her hand in the dog’s long coat. His groan and deep sigh brought a small smile to her heart. Her eyes traveled over the expensive furniture on which her dog slept. She and Reece had been picked up from their previous existence and placed into a world she’d never imagined for either of them. When Theo had pulled her out of Detroit, she never dreamed that one day she’d be engaged to a man who loved her as much as she loved him.

  Tippy popped to his feet and skittered to the hall. He gave a warm bark when the door opened. She heard Jason’s graveled timber as he spoke to the dog. God, he was even good to Reece’s puppy.

  “Where’s your momma?” Faith heard Jason’s question.

  “I’m in the den,” she called. She could hear his boots against the hardwood floor. He filled the door and her heart fluttered. He was wearing a black military uniform. Her smile froze. A huge bluish-black bruise covered his jawline and a partial shirtsleeve—the lower half had been cut off—exposed a white bandage on his upper arm.