Hard Run (Delta Force Brotherhood)

by Sheryl Nantus

  “I’ll never see you again.” Her eyes filled with tears. “Is that what you want?”

  “Hell, no.” He drew his thumb over her soft skin. “I want you to be alive and safe.”

  “I could be. With you.”

  He forced himself to shake his head. “I couldn’t guarantee both of you would be protected. And Robby’s not going to want to stay in Vegas for his entire life, stay chained to your side. He’ll want to move, and when he does, he’ll be out from under any protection we can give him. The Brotherhood has a pretty far reach except this…” He shook his head. “We could give him a fake name and identity, but Mac’s going to be upset—it’s different when you’re just in hiding versus in the system for testifying against someone like Smith.”

  “I need Robby to be safe.” She looked down. “I can’t walk away from him. Not after this, not after all we’ve gone through together.”

  “I’m not asking you to. And I won’t. He’s your family.” He pulled her into his arms. “Family has to come first.”

  …

  She laid out the suitcases and started packing them—one for Robby and one for herself. She didn’t know if or when they’d ever be able to return to the apartment, not with the threat of retaliation from the gang hanging over their heads.

  As she worked, her mind kept wandering off onto different tracks, searching for a way to be with Finn.

  She could ask him to leave Vegas and come to be with them, move in. Be their personal protection, their wall against any repercussions down the line from running the gang out of town.

  But it’d be wrong.

  He’d been there for her, and he needed to be there for others like her, others who needed help. He couldn’t do it long-distance from a small town where they rolled up the sidewalks at night and the biggest excitement before the bike gang came to town was the discussion about how large the new highway sign advertising Whistling Willows would be.

  He couldn’t do it hiding with them in another state, in another life with a falsified past and an unknown future.

  It was for the best. Maybe not for her, but for Finn and the Brotherhood.

  Witness protection.

  She rolled the word around in her mouth, hating the bitter taste.

  She’d promised she’d talk to Robby about it, and she would.

  Finn walked into the living room, his bag resting on his shoulder. He’d pulled on a light-blue T-shirt and tucked it into his jeans.

  She forced herself to look cheerful. “I called the hospital. Robby’s fine and already giving the doctors hell.” It was hard to keep the tears from breaking free, her heart aching at seeing him ready to go.

  “Good. He’s a tough one. He’ll come through this stronger and better for it.” Finn’s smile was forced, and she knew it. “Are you packed yet?”

  She waved an arm over the open bags. “Getting there. The agent outside said they’ll be taking me to the safe house right after you leave. I’ll get visits to the hospital if I want, but it’s best if I stay out of sight until they finish drawing up the paperwork. So…” She sighed. “I guess this is it.”

  He was across the room in a flash, sweeping her up in his arms for one final, long kiss that seemed to last for hours.

  “I love you,” Finn said.

  She nodded, reaching up to touch the scar. “I love you, too. No matter where I am or what I’m doing, I’ll always love you.”

  “Me, too.”

  She rose on her toes and kissed him. “Until later, Finn Storm.”

  She held back her tears until the door closed.

  …

  The safe house turned out to be in Las Vegas. When they’d taken the exit into the city, Skye hadn’t been able to hold back a surprised gasp.

  Mac turned around in the front seat. “I know. Believe it or not, it’s the closest one. It goes without saying you can’t contact Finn or anyone at the club.” He gave her a friendly smile. “We’re also transferring Robby to one of the local hospitals here, keeping everyone close. He’ll be there by nightfall.”

  She nodded, still in a state of shock.

  Mac nodded at the driver. “Let’s get inside and set up.”

  The next two weeks went by in a flurry of interviews. Matt Cooper had been on hand each time, helping in any way he could. From what he told her, things had gotten interesting when it came to Mick Smith.

  The gang leader hadn’t opened his mouth since Finn had punched it shut, claiming he’d been framed by Finn Trotter, who was nowhere to be found. The case against the various gang members had been enough to convince many of them to turn state’s evidence, including Jake, who had no problem detailing every little bit of the operation.

  Skye had allowed herself a private smile at that.

  There was enough evidence to put many of the members away for years, along with a good chance of nabbing some of the cartel responsible for the high-grade heroin coming into the town—the garage south of the border had already been raided by the Mexican authorities, and that line of smuggling was closed for good. Whispering Willows was safe again—but not for her and Robby.

  …

  Finally the day came for Robby to be officially discharged from the hospital, his recovery complete. Skye approached the door of his room, nodding at the plainclothes officer sitting nearby. She recognized him from her handful visits, and as she held up the bag of clothing she’d brought for Robby, he smiled and waved her in.

  Skye entered the room to see her brother pacing back and forth, the hospital gown dangerously close to falling off. He grinned and held up both hands.

  “They took the IV out an hour ago. I’m cleared to go. all I need is to sign off on the release.”

  “Good.” She passed him the bag before going to the window. “Brought you your favorite T-shirt and jeans. Shoes are in the bottom.”

  “Thanks.” She heard the plastic rustling as she watched the horizon. It was easy to imagine the Devil’s Playground just out of sight, the nightclub preparing for another busy night of entertaining the masses, the Brotherhood readying themselves to push back the darkness with another dangerous mission.

  With Finn on the front lines.

  She cleared her throat. “Mac called. Said the trial’s set for three months from now. We’ll have to stay in the safe house until then, and afterward we’ll be offered enrollment in the witness protection program.” Her stomach twisted into knots at the idea of leaving the area forever.

  “Yeah.” His tone was a mixture of relief and curiosity. “Wonder what our new names will be.”

  She pressed her lips into a tight line, juggling her feelings.

  …

  “Get your head in the game before I knock it off,” Dylan growled as he stepped back.

  Finn gave himself a shake, recovering from the sharp jab he’d just received. They were in the boxing ring in the basement of the Devil’s Playground, and he was supposed to be training.

  Training today seemed to consist mostly of getting beat up by his boss.

  Finn ducked under a sweeping right hook and landed a pair of punches to Dylan’s sides, pushing him back along the canvas floor.

  “Good,” his boss grunted. “Now show me how you put down Mick Smith.” He laughed through the mouthpiece. “If you want, I can go buy a riding crop to get you in the mood.”

  Finn chuckled and went at him, not holding back.

  A few minutes later, Jessie, the unofficial referee, rang the bell and ended the match.

  She stepped inside the ring and tossed each man a towel as they wrestled off their boxing gloves.

  “Nice to see you in action again.” She pulled her lips into a tight line. “Even if you smell like dirty socks.”

  “Love you, too,” Dylan said with a wink.

  “Trey called in while you two were working on your waltzing.” Jessie chuckled. “He says Mac came through with an update. Trial’s scheduled for three months from now. He thinks it’ll be an easy conviction, putting Smith away for decad
es.”

  Finn grunted.

  Jessie exchanged glances with Dylan and stepped away.

  Dylan went to his own corner, disposing of his gloves before picking up his water bottle and dumping part of the contents over his head. He wiped his face and approached Finn.

  “You spoken to her since you came back?” Dylan didn’t need to clarify the question. “It’s been two weeks.”

  “No. No reason to.” Finn took a swig of water and swished it around in his mouth before spitting it into the nearby pail. “Especially if she’s going to go underground. Make it a clean break, keep both of us from hurting too much.”

  Dylan eyed him. “Trey can find her, you know. Underground doesn’t mean dead. And they might not take the offer. Smith’s still dangerous, but it’s a big decision to go into witness protection. A hell of a step—she could decide to stay put and risk it.” He moved under the ropes and hopped down to the floor. “I saw the way you looked at her. Don’t tell me you don’t care about her.”

  Finn shook his head. “Hell, yeah.” He closed his eyes and sighed. “Men like us, Dylan—we don’t get lucky like that. We just don’t.”

  “I’ve got a woman over there who would disagree with you.” Dylan smiled. “It can happen.”

  “Maybe. But what can I offer her?” He waved a hand, taking in the gym. “I got nothing other than my cover job here, and the Brotherhood. I can’t ask her to drop everything, drag Robby here to an uncertain future. Mac’s willing to offer her witness protection, make sure her and Robby are forever safe from Mick Smith and his connections. I can’t compete with that.”

  “Are you sure?” Dylan eyed him. “You can offer her the same thing I offered Jessie. My heart.” He thumped his chest. “Men like us, we don’t get too many chances at happiness. Don’t pass this one up because you think you’re not good enough for her.”

  “It’s her decision,” Finn said. “I can’t make this one for her.”

  “No. No, you can’t. But whatever she decides, you can make sure it’s not because she doesn’t know what you feel for her.”

  Finn winced as his boss exited the training room, angry at himself.

  He wasn’t going to force Skye to choose between him and her brother.

  Maybe he was an asshole, one who loved her more than he thought possible, but he wouldn’t do that to her.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  The trial had been easier than Skye had anticipated—thanks to the overwhelming evidence, Smith cut a plea deal at the last minute, keeping them off the stand. She and Robby returned to the safe house in Las Vegas for one last time.

  “It’s up to you.” Mac split his attention between Skye and Robby. “I can tell you Smith is never going to get out. I can’t promise he won’t make a run at you. He might contact the cartel, give them your info. Revenge is a pretty powerful emotion.”

  Mac had shown up at the safe house accompanied by a U.S. Marshal—a tight-lipped older man who introduced himself as Al Barton and had a handshake that would crush a bowling ball.

  Mac continued. “He strikes me as a man who likes to hold a grudge.”

  Robby cleared his throat. “He’s probably more upset with me than with her.” He glanced at Skye. “I mean, I’m the one who started all this.”

  They were all very careful not to mention the Brotherhood, Skye noticed.

  “I think you’re both in equal danger.” Mac studied Robby for a long moment. “Your sister put herself in the line of fire for you, and brought in Finn. That comes with a price.”

  Barton pulled a folder out of his briefcase and placed it on the table. “I’m authorized to offer the two of you new identities and new lives, if you want them.” He turned his attention to Skye. “You’ll have to give up everything. I’m sure you’ve heard about it—it’s pretty well exactly what you think. We’ll place you somewhere else, someplace safe. But you won’t ever be able to return to Whispering Willows.”

  “I can’t say I’ll miss that town but…” Robby scratched his ear. “How long do we have?”

  “This isn’t an unlimited offer. The launch window’s closing, in a matter of speaking.” Barton ran his hand over the folder. “Can I ask what the problem is? I don’t mean to be blunt but it’s not like you’ve got anything holding you here or in Whispering Willows. No family and limited friends. They’ll understand if you disappear.”

  “True.” Robby looked at Skye before turning back to Mac. “Give us an hour to talk it out.”

  Mac cast a glance at Barton. The older man nodded. “Good enough.” The marshal slipped the folder into his briefcase and stood up. “You have any questions, ask one of your guards to call me, and I’ll be right over.” He shook their hands before heading for the door.

  Mac hesitated, letting Barton leave first. He turned to the pair. “I don’t mean to pressure you two, but life doesn’t offer any guarantees. Sometimes you just have to take a leap of faith and hope you land where you should.”

  Skye frowned, taking in his words.

  …

  It’d been three long, miserable months without any contact from Skye. Finn had avoided any opportunity to see Mac, afraid he’d break down and ask for a chance to talk to her.

  The knowledge he was doing the right thing didn’t help ease his aching heart.

  It was early morning when the call came from Dylan’s office, summoning him away from helping unpack the daily food delivery.

  Finn opened the door to see Jessie standing behind Dylan, looking out onto the empty dance floor. She turned and smiled at him.

  “Smith took the plea. He won’t be out of jail until he’s a very old, cranky man in diapers,” Dylan said. “Mac called, confirming what we’d thought was going to happen. Now that the trial is over the U.S. Marshals have offered the Harrises witness protection.”

  “Okay.” Finn’s chest ached as if Dylan had landed a solid blow. “What did they decide?”

  “They haven’t. Asked for an hour’s grace to make up their minds.”

  “So why are you telling me?”

  “Because I figure you deserve to know. And if you’re going to do something about Skye, now is the time to do it.”

  Finn sat down. “Damn it.” His head spun as he tried to gather his thoughts.

  “What are you thinking?” Jessie prompted.

  “I just…” He closed his eyes. “I don’t have anything to offer her. I mean, this is what I do. What I am.” He spread his arms, taking in the window behind Dylan. “She won’t leave Robby. And I don’t know if I can protect both of them.”

  “We can try,” Dylan replied. “But it’s not your choice, is it? It’s hers. All you can do is tell her what you feel and see what she chooses.” He studied Finn. “Do you love her?”

  “Yes.” The word came easily, surprising him. “I damned well do.”

  “Enough to let her go if she decides to take Mac up on his offer?”

  Jessie interrupted before Finn answered. “Hold it. She can’t make her mind up if she doesn’t know how you feel.” She stared at him. “You ever told her that you love her?”

  “Yes. Before I left her place.”

  She shook her head. “Does she know you meant it? Like, you’d do whatever it took to keep her by your side? The forever kind of love?”

  “Um.”

  “You men are so annoying.” She glared at Dylan. “Don’t even try to contradict me.”

  He held up his hands and smiled.

  “It’s not fair for you to let her make that decision without knowing how you feel,” she said.

  “But…” Finn started, prepared to defend his position.

  “But nothing.” Jessie cut him off. “You don’t like going into a fight without knowing the situation. You study the terrain, you do recon. Why the hell would you let the woman you love make a life-changing decision without knowing where she stands with you?” She continued, slashing the air with one hand. “It’s been three months, and you’re still hopelessly, fantastically in lo
ve with her. Don’t you think she deserves to know that?”

  Finn looked at Dylan.

  Dylan shrugged.

  Finn stood up. “Can we find out where the safe house is?”

  “Sure.” Dylan picked up the phone. “Give me a few minutes to get hold of Mac. If he won’t give it to me, I’ll get Trey to hack in.” He chuckled. “The threat should be enough to get Mac to cough up the info.”

  “Her cell phone would have been cut off when she left Whispering Willows.” Finn said. “I can’t even call and tell her to wait until I get there before leaving.”

  “Once she’s in the system it’ll be hard to get her out,” Jessie said. “The U.S. Marshals protect their charges zealously.”

  “Go.” Dylan waved him off, the phone still to his ear. “Get to the garage, take the fastest car. Standby for my call. If we’re lucky, she’s within driving distance of Vegas. If not…”

  “I need a location, not a cell number,” Finn shouted as he backed out. “I have to see her face-to-face.”

  Finn sprinted for the elevator.

  What he wanted to say to Skye wasn’t going to work with just a phone call.

  …

  Patrick, the Brotherhood mechanic, tossed Finn a set of keys as he came through the door.

  “Jessie called ahead.” He pointed at the bright red Charger. “She’ll get you there.”

  Finn climbed in and jammed the keys in the ignition.

  His phone rang. He stabbed at the screen before throwing the car into gear.

  “Mac can’t promise they’ll hold her until you arrive. The Marshals are on a tight schedule. If she says she doesn’t want to talk to you and wants to go, they’re gone,” Dylan said. “He’s already pushing his luck by telling you where she is and telling them not to shoot you on sight.”

  Finn slammed his foot down on the gas pedal. “Tell me where she is—I don’t have time to waste.”

  Rubber squealed, smoke filling the garage as the car leaped toward the exit and Dylan shouted the safe house location.

  …

  “Damn it.” Finn threw the phone onto the seat beside him. She’d been right around the damned corner, in a residential area a stone’s throw from the nightclub.