Hard Run (Delta Force Brotherhood)

by Sheryl Nantus

  An invisible hammer slammed into her chest. “What?” She lifted her head and stepped away.

  “Came in on a food run. Seemed taken aback about seeing me here, except it worked in my favor. Helped back up my story about being low on cash and looking for a job.” He leaned over and kissed her. “Have no fear. This might well have cemented the deal.”

  “Why would they need another driver so soon?” she asked, trying to ignore the pulse pounding in her ears. “They just sent the man off last night. Maybe a day or two before he comes back, then they can send him out again. Why would they need you?”

  “They’re playing catch-up. My guess is that they laid low for a bit after the incident with Robby. Sat back and waited until they were sure it was safe to start bringing product in again.” He jerked a thumb at the wall. “I bet the driver you saw go out last night is coming back tonight. Then they switch to another guy, keep the circle small but fluid. They’ve got to be running low, and they can’t wait any longer. They don’t want to give the guy too much too soon and risk him dropping the ball, so they’ll be looking for more drivers. I’m hoping to be their next recruit.”

  She nodded. “It makes sense.”

  Finn studied her face. “Are you going to be okay here for the rest of the night? Say the word, and I can sleep in the back.”

  Skye shook her head. “There’s only boxes and wooden skids.”

  “I’ve slept on worse.” He locked eyes with her. “I’m serious. I can stay if you need me to. I need you to feel safe.” His tone shifted, softer and more intimate.

  She pushed past her fear and forced a smile. “No. You can’t go into the bar half asleep.” Skye stroked his cheek. “Don’t put the mission at risk. I’ll be fine. I’ll call you if I have any issues, I promise.”

  He hesitated before kissing her. “For anything.”

  Skye nodded and shooed him out the door, sandwich in his hand.

  …

  The drug mule returned to the parking lot almost exactly twenty-four hours after he left. He rode off with one of the gang members while another took control of the car and drove away.

  Now Finn just needed to get the job.

  It’d been a week since the incident at the truck stop, and he was back at the Broken Spoke, seeking out a spot in the almost-full parking lot.

  A text had come in from Jake earlier that day asking if he’d be at the bar that night—a positive sign.

  Finn found an empty place at the back and parked his truck. There were a lot more gang members here than usual— the lined-up motorcycles proved it.

  He opened the reinforced steel door and walked in.

  A mass of bodies jumped up and down to the beat of the heavy metal music coming from the live band screeching from the small stage. He pushed through the standing-room-only mob, throwing an elbow here and there to clear a path to his regular position at the counter. He lifted his hand and got a nod from the bartender, having become enough of a regular that he didn’t have to shout his order.

  Jake was nowhere in sight.

  Finn forced down his nerves. He’d faced worse challenges.

  The bartender put down his beer and waited. Finn dug in his wallet and peeled off a bill, giving her as much of a tip as he dared.

  She smiled and moved away.

  His new identity was solid. Trey’s creations were works of art, mixing truth and lies up in equal amounts. The only way they’d be able to poke holes would be if they had friends in very, very high places who might be able to scrape the mud from Finn Trotter and find Finn Storm.

  And even then, he wouldn’t be exposed as a member of the Brotherhood. That secret was deep, so deep it’d be a cold day in Hell when it got dug out.

  Finn nodded to the bartender and took a sip of the lukewarm beer, forcing himself to swallow. He’d give a week’s salary to have one of the cold beers sitting in the cooler atop the Devil’s Playground roof right now. Right by the barbecue with Ace tossing some steaks on the grill.

  He pushed his mind back to the here and now. Even if he was found out, the gang would have nothing to pin on him other than the fact he’d lied and carried fake ID. As far as the world knew, he was employed at the Playground as a bouncer, nothing more.

  On the stage, the lead singer, greasy hair flying around his acne-pocked face, screamed something about fire and destruction, and Finn nursed his drink.

  His thoughts shifted to Skye and her brother. When this was all over, he could talk to some of their connections, people in the medical field. He didn’t want to raise her hopes, but Finn suspected there was some way of keeping Robby safe and cared for during his recovery.

  Dylan and Jessie would help her, of that he was certain.

  Maybe some of their contacts could help find Skye some financial assistance, some sort of…

  Someone bumped his shoulder, hard enough to spill the cheap beer. It splashed over his hand and onto the varnished wooden counter.

  Finn snarled and turned.

  “You stupid mother…”

  Mick Smith stared at him, his face only a few inches away from Finn’s.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Jake looked over the gang leader’s shoulder, giving Finn a warning glance.

  One chance to make an impression. Don’t blow it.

  Finn didn’t flinch, didn’t pull away. Move too quickly and it’d be a sign of weakness. Too slowly and it’d be a challenge.

  He counted off five seconds, spending it studying Smith. The Wolf’s Teeth logo was tattooed at the base of the man’s neck, disappearing under the black muscle shirt. His leather vest was the same as the one Jake wore except much more threadbare, parts of the black material cracked with time. His goatee was ink-black and almost pointed at the bottom, giving him a devilish look.

  Finn hadn’t seen eyes like his since watching Shark Week. Predatory. Cool and steady. It was easy to imagine Mick beating Robby nearly to death.

  Now.

  He glanced down, breaking the connection.

  Smith grunted and put a hand on the bar, edging his way in. His palm pressed against the wood, his thick knuckles evidence they’d been used and used frequently.

  This was a minefield, and Finn had to pick his path carefully.

  Jake cleared his voice, coughing over the loud music. “Finn Trotter, meet Mick. Mick, Finn.” Jake grinned. “Good to see you make it tonight. Thought you’d be all tuckered out wiping up truckers’ shit. That bathroom probably looks and smells like an outhouse with all those assholes letting loose the burritos they picked up on the road.”

  Finn shrugged. “If it pays, I’ll do it. I told you, I need the work. I’m not rich enough to turn down a job when I get offered one.” He looked up at Smith. “Guess you’re the one I’m supposed to be talking to.”

  Smith gave him a curt nod. “Guess you are.”

  He settled into the space beside Finn. Jake moved in on Finn’s left side, sandwiching him between the two bikers.

  “What sort of work you looking for?” Mick asked.

  Finn sipped his beer. “The kind that pays. I’m not in a position to get fussy.”

  Mick rapped his knuckles on the bar twice, looking over at the redhead. “You got a problem with illegal?”

  The bartender scuttled over with a beer, the cold glass already dripping condensation.

  “Nope.” Finn stared at Mick. “Except I draw the line at murder.”

  Jake laughed and slapped Mick on the shoulder. “Told you he was a funny guy.”

  Mick wasn’t smiling.

  Finn went back to studying his beer, letting the gang leader take the lead.

  “You used to be military. What happened?”

  Inside, Finn relaxed a fraction. They wouldn’t be asking more questions if they weren’t interested. “Poker. I don’t like it when people don’t pay their debts. I was owed some money. They didn’t want to pay up. I beat their asses down and got discharged because the crybabies had powerful friends.”

  Mick�
�s stoic expression didn’t change.

  Finn expected it was because he knew the backstory already.

  They stood drinking in silence for another few minutes, the bar traffic flowing around them. No one spoke to Mick, no one came near him. It was as if an invisible shield had fallen on the three of them, cutting them off from the rest of the bar patrons.

  “Look.” Finn drained his glass. “You’re all fine and handsome, but I don’t have all night to stand here and be your wingman. If you need me, then say so. If not, go away and let me enjoy my beer in peace.”

  It was pushing it, but Finn suspected that’s what Smith understood.

  Mick took a sip of cold beer. “I need a driver.”

  The words were music to Finn’s ears.

  Mick spoke in short, clipped words just barely loud enough for Finn to hear. “Listen hard, ’cause I’m only going to go over this once. We give you a car. You drive it down the back roads to Mexico, take it to a garage near the border. You sit in the sun, eat a burrito, or do whatever you want to kill time while they take it in, put it up on the hoist. Be a few hours, and they’ll soup it up, put some boxes of spare parts in the trunk. You return here, and we take the extra parts out, strip ’er down, and resell her to the collectors who get off on pimped out muscle cars. You get a hundred now, a thousand when you come back. In or out?”

  Finn chewed on his lower lip for a second or two, absorbing the cover story. “I’m in.” He glanced over at Jake. “Now buy me a damned real beer.”

  …

  Skye closed the hardcover book and tossed it on the coffee table before laying her head back on the sofa cushions, waiting for Finn to come home.

  She thought rereading her favorite mystery might help calm her nerves.

  It hadn’t worked. She kept inserting Finn into the detective’s shoes, seeing him run into danger as he tracked down the murderer.

  Robby. Finn.

  The bikers.

  The Wolf.

  She jolted upright when she heard the key in the lock.

  The familiar knocking set her mind at ease, the code verifying his identity.

  “You should be in bed.”

  She gave him a wide smile, his mere presence quieting her nerves. “Is that an offer?”

  “Sure as hell is.”

  Before she could say or think anything different, he was on her, swooping her up in his arms and carrying her to the bed.

  “I got the job,” Finn whispered as he carefully laid her down.

  She wasn’t sure if she should be happy or terrified.

  “Don’t worry.” It was as if he’d read her mind. “It’ll be fine. I leave tomorrow. It’ll only be a few days, and I’m going to be tracked every inch of the way by Trey and the others. Anything goes wrong, they’ll be there as back up.”

  He stood up and shrugged off his leather jacket before tossing it on a nearby chair. Next came his T-shirt as he grinned with what she could only assume was satisfaction at a job well done. “When I come back, Dylan’s going to have the Feds at the truck stop, ready to grab the Wolf by his balls and drag him and the rest of the gang to jail.” He let out a chuckle. “It’s all going to work out.”

  She wrinkled her nose. It’d been weeks, and she still couldn’t reconcile herself with the stink of stale beer and body odor.

  “Yeah. I need a shower. Then I’m coming back, and we’re going to celebrate in the best way possible.” His smirk left no doubt what he was thinking.

  Skye batted her eyelashes. “Ooh. You brought me some chocolate bars?”

  “No.” He smiled and desire quickened inside her, banishing any bits of tiredness she’d had left. “But I’m definitely interested in devouring something sweet and delicious.”

  …

  Later, as they lay in bed, Finn stared at the ceiling, one hand propped up under his head. “Going to be a hard run across the border and back.”

  A chill shot through her bones, despite the sweat still soaking her skin from their recent lovemaking. “It’s going to be dangerous.” She felt the need to clarify. “Not just arriving back here to meet Smith. The entire trip.”

  Finn turned, his forehead furrowed in confusion. “Of course it is. That’s the point. That’s why they’re paying me the big bucks. Getting there isn’t the dangerous part, to be honest. Coming back, I’ll be a prime target for everyone from Customs to the border patrol to corrupt cops on both sides of the line. Not to mention rival gangs or cartels who might want to hijack me to make a point.”

  “You’re not selling me on this plan,” she said wryly.

  “It’s not supposed to be easy.” He shook his head. “That’s why Robby agreed to it. It’s dangerous, but it pays.”

  “Except where did he meet them?” She cuddled closer, pressing her face into the crook of his neck. “I still can’t figure out where Robby got the idea, where they approached him. It’s not like Mick Smith put an ad in the paper or stuck a note up at the community dry cleaners. Robby doesn’t hang out at bars—at least, not ones like the Broken Spoke.”

  “This invisible buddy who put him onto the job,” Finn said. “Could have been anyone. Not like the gang doesn’t have connections everywhere. He was desperate for cash, they needed a driver.” He pulled her close as if to banish the sadness in her thoughts. “We’ll figure out who he is when we pull the gang down. They’ll want to cut a deal, cough up information, and give you a name. Then you’ll see justice done.”

  Skye nodded, feeling sleep begin to drag her away.

  “I’ll be back before you know it.” The whisper came to her before she drifted off.

  When she woke up, she heard multiple voices outside the bedroom. Her heart raced for a second until she identified them.

  Dylan. Jessie.

  She got dressed and came out to find them in the living room along with Finn and another man. He had dark hair, cut in the same military style as Dylan and Finn. He wore dark-green khaki pants and a black T-shirt.

  He rose and offered his hand. “Trey Pierce.” He nodded. “We’ve sort of met, but not officially.”

  “You’re the computer guru,” she said, getting a smile in response.

  “That I am.”

  “Thank you for your help.” She locked eyes with him. “For everything.”

  He touched her hand. “Anything we can do to help you and Robby out.”

  “Here,” Jessie called out from the kitchen. “Have some coffee.” She pushed a mug across the countertop. “I might make bad coffee, but don’t tell me it’s worse than the hospital swill.”

  Skye walked over to the kitchen, leaving the three men talking to each other in short, jagged words and half-finished sentences.

  “Don’t worry about trying to understand them.” Jessie smiled. “They get in their mindset, and it’s like trying to corral wild horses.”

  “I just can’t…” Skye drew a shallow breath as she picked up the mug. “How do you handle it? The stress, the worrying about something going wrong…”

  Jessie let out a soft sigh. “There’s no other way. It’s what’s needed to get justice, set things right.” She looked over at Dylan. “I feel sick every time they go out, except I know it’s got to be done. If they don’t do it, no one will. And if they can’t do it, it can’t be done.”

  Skye took a sip, searching for the words. The bitter brew scalded her tongue and throat.

  “Don’t tell them, but I make it bad on purpose.” Jessie slid over the sugar bowl. “That way I don’t end up having to make it too often.” She waved at Skye. “Our little secret.”

  Skye added a good amount of sugar and milk before turning to the living room.

  Dylan stood up as she approached, his expression intent. “I don’t have to tell you this is where it gets rough. Finn told you that if he disappears, you head out for Vegas. He meant it.”

  “But if you’re here already…” She wanted to reach out for Finn, to pull him close.

  “If we’re here, then we’ll be looking
for him and we’ll need you out of harm’s way,” Dylan said. “Hit the road and get to the club. You’ll be safe there, and we’ll bring Robby to you. Understand?”

  The seriousness of the situation hit her hard, almost physically pushing her back a step.

  This was it.

  No more waiting, no more plotting or planning. The drug bust combined with the gathered videotape evidence would put the Wolf’s Teeth safely behind bars and out of Whispering Willows forever.

  Her throat closed at the thought.

  She’d almost lost her brother to this scheme.

  She didn’t want to lose the man she cared for.

  “I understand.”

  She turned back toward the kitchen, unable to face them.

  The coffee mug trembled in her hands. She tightened her grip, but the shaking didn’t stop, the liquid dangerously close to sloshing over the edge.

  “Hey.” Finn came up beside her. He put his hands over Skye’s, adding his strength. “It’s okay to be afraid. But understand, this is what we do. And we’re damned good at it.”

  “I know,” she said. “I just wish it weren’t so dangerous.”

  “If it were easy, it’d be done already.” Dylan crossed his arms. “I’m not saying this because I’m trying to scare you. I have total faith in Finn. You and Robby are important to us, and we always plan for all options.” He smiled. “Don’t worry. We’re going to put Smith and his men away and keep you both safe.”

  “Thank you.” She gazed around the room, giving each of them a grateful nod. “Thank all of you. I don’t know what I would have done if I hadn’t come to you.”

  “Probably gotten yourself locked up after making a run at Smith with a shovel,” Finn deadpanned as he released her.

  “What?” Jessie said. “And you stopped her?”

  “She had second thoughts. But she was seriously thinking about it.” Finn nodded. “Right there in the parking lot.” He swung his hands as if clutching a baseball bat, making a smacking sound with his mouth.

  Skye smiled, remembering her earlier confession.

  Jessie laughed and clapped her hands together. “Damn. I’d have paid to see that. Next time, don’t stop her.”

  Skye took a sip of coffee, the easy banter settling her nerves.