by Sybil Bartel
Jesus fuck.
Anxiety shot through my veins and I tiptoe-ran to Conner’s room. My finger on my lips, I crouched in front of my son. “Shh, we’re not going to talk, okay? There’s a man at the front door and you’re going to pretend to be a quiet little mouse until he leaves. Nod if you understand Mama.”
Wide-eyed, Conner nodded and pulled his blanket closer.
“That’s my good boy. Let’s get Teddy and you can wait in the closet for Mama while she talks with the man, okay?”
Conner scrambled for his teddy bear and clutched it to his chest.
I slowly pulled the closet door open so it didn’t squeak and ushered Conner inside but when I tried to close it, his eyes filled with silent tears and he shook his head.
“Shh, shh, it’s okay. I’m coming right back for you. Sit down and snuggle in the clothes, okay?” The knock sounded again. “Let Mama take care of this and I’ll be right back.” I kissed my son and quickly rushed out of the room, closing the door behind me.
“OPEN UP, I KNOW YOU’RE in there!”
Taking a deep breath, I yanked the door open and scowled.
Jason’s friend Candle crossed his tattooed arms over his leather cut and his shrewd blue-eyed gaze dropped to my tits. I didn’t know his real name and I didn’t want to. Jason had told me once he’d earned his nickname by killing a man with only a candle.
I forced a smirk. “Lucky me. My favorite biker.” Please, please, please don’t let him know about the guns.
Casual, like he had all the time in the world, Candle scanned the length of my body, but something was off in both his mannerisms and his expression. “Not yet, but I could be.”
“You could be a lot of things, like dead in a ditch for all I care. I should’ve known you’d talk Jason into prospecting for the LCs one day.” Jason had sworn when we’d gotten together that he wasn’t interested in that kind of life and I’d stupidly believed him.
“I didn’t talk him into shit.”
Sure he didn’t. “Screw you.”
The corner of Candle’s mouth tipped up. “Doubt your old man wants you hitting on me, sweetheart.” The smile didn’t touch his eyes.
“Jason isn’t my old man and he’s not here.” I tried to shut the door.
Candle leaned against the frame and blocked my attempt. “In my world, you give a woman a kid, that makes you her old man.”
Dread turned into full-blown alarm. “Then it’s a good thing I don’t live in your world.”
He raised his eyebrows. “You sure about that?”
I hadn’t heard a motorcycle pull up. That’s what was wrong. Candle must’ve been waiting for me. “What do you want?” Jesus, I was never going to make a clean escape.
“You know exactly why I’m here.”
He wanted the guns and I had no clue what Viking had done with them. No choice now but to play this out, I sucked in a breath and reached for every ounce of bravado I had. I knew what Candle was capable of. Murder was humane compared to the rumors about the torture he was capable of inflicting. When I’d worked at the strip club full-time, none of the girls wanted to go to a back room with him. “No, I don’t. Jason doesn’t live here anymore and I’m not buying your shit, so go find some club whore to harass.”
“Harass? You getting all uppity now that you work a day job?”
How the hell did he know that? “Fuck you.”
He chuckled. “Damn, I forgot how mouthy and hot you are.”
“Leave. My kid’s asleep.”
He pushed off the door and curled a giant, tattooed bicep around me. When he leaned down to my ear and whispered, his breath tickled the hairs on my neck. “Then you’d better be quiet.”
Candle had always been full of insinuation and sexual innuendos, but he’d never touched me before. I glared at his arm then at him. “Did I say you could touch me?”
His face dissolved into a deadly sneer. “You wanna fuck me, woman, that’s one thing. But you screw with my shit? That’s altogether different. Inside. Now. Before I lose the good mood seeing your tits put me in.”
I stood my ground. “Take a good look, because this is as far as you’re ever gonna get.”
He let out a low, throaty rumble that was more growl than laugh. “We’ll see.” His fingers dug into my shoulder and he propelled me backwards and into the apartment. Kicking the door shut, keeping me locked in his hold, he scanned my place. “Where are they?”
“Where are what?” I put all the attitude and irritation into my voice I wanted to feel but couldn’t because my heart was pounding so hard, I thought I was going to have a fucking heart attack.
Candle dropped his grip and stepped around me. “Then we’ll do this the hard way.” He looked over his shoulder at me. “You move, I’ll fuck you so hard, you’ll know why they call me Candle.”
I swallowed back bile.
Quick but methodical, Candle made a full sweep of the apartment. I held my breath as he barely glanced at Conner’s closet. We both knew the crates were too long to fit in there but I didn’t say shit. I stood still as fuck and barely a minute later, he stalked straight at me. I backed up till my ass hit the wall and his hands landed on either side of my head. “Where’s my shit?”
That’s when I noticed what else was different. Candle’s eyes had deep circles under them and his hair was disheveled, not windblown. He hadn’t come on his bike. A bike wouldn’t hold three crates of guns. “I have no fucking clue what you’re talking about.”
“If I ask you again, you gonna lie a third time?” His finger hit my chin and dragged along my jaw in warning. His eyes narrowed and he followed his movement. “Because I got a thing about liars. Last time. Where are they?”
Fear crawled up my spine. His touch wasn’t sexual. At all. It was calculating and measuring and I knew he could snap my neck just as easily as he could break my jaw. “Where’s what?”
His nostrils flared, his jaw clenched and he went from controlled dominance to unleashed anger in zero-point-two seconds. He grabbed my chin, hard. “Answer the goddamn question!”
My blood ran cold. “Wh-what are you talking about?”
His hand tightened until pain shot through my jaw. “Don’t play this game. You’ll lose.”
I tried to swallow past the lump in my throat. “I’m not playing anything.”
His grip dropped to my neck, closed over my throat and he squeezed, hard. “WHERE ARE MY FUCKING GUNS?”
My hands flew to his and my eyes welled with tears as air fought to get through my constricted windpipe. Then I said the first bullshit thing that popped into my head. “I threw them in the ocean!” I clawed at his tight grip.
As instantly as he’d grabbed my neck, he let go. But then his arm pulled back and before I could even turn my head, his giant fist sailed past my face and slammed into the wall. Crunching sheetrock sounded in my ear like gunfire as dust landed on my shoulder.
Candle fisted a handful of my hair. “You lying bitch!”
Oh God, ohgodohgodohgod. “My son,” I choked out.
His chest heaving, his jaw ticking, Candle glared at me and barely reined it in. “Now you’re worried about him? What the fuck did you think would happen to him when you took my shipment?”
“Please,” I whispered. “I didn’t take anything.”
For a split second, rage swept across his face then he shut everything down except his tone. “You think your old man didn’t talk? I know you fucking have them.”
Icy needles prickled through my chest and I regretted every step I’d taken since I’d driven away with those crates in my SUV. Worse, if I told Candle the truth now, he’d kill me and move on. I had zero leverage without the guns and even less if he knew I gave them to Viking. My only hope was to stall until Tyler called or make him think I was holding out on him. He’d keep me alive until he got what he wanted. I just prayed I could survive whatever sick shit he had planned. “I don’t know what Jason told you, but he’s lying.”
His cold glare
narrowed. “I guess you do wanna find out.”
Oh God. “Find out what?”
It happened so fast, I gasped. His hands wrapped around my wrists, he pushed my arms up over my head then he slammed them against the wall. His hips pinned mine and he leaned within an inch of my face. “What it feels like to burn.” His mouth landed on mine and his tongue slid in, heated and dominant.
Shock crashed into me and survival distorted my sense of right and wrong. God help me, I didn’t push him away.
Candle ground his hips into mine and mimicked his movement with his tongue. He kissed me with the skill of a man who fucked people over for a living, then he bit my bottom lip. “You lying, horny bitch.” He trailed his tongue across my neck and bit my ear. “Where’s my shit? Tell me and maybe I won’t fuck you before I hurt you.”
I jerked back.
He caught both of my wrists in one hand and gripped my hair tight. “Going somewhere?”
“You’re fucking psychotic,” I spat.
“You haven’t begun to see psychotic. This is just the tip of the iceberg.” He pressed harder into me and I tried to move my hips away from his. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Slow and with masterful precision, he rubbed himself between my legs. “My dick not good enough for you?”
I hated him. I hated Jason. But I hated myself for my own stupidity. “Let go.”
“Why?” He let go of my hair and swept his thumb across my lips then pressed it into my mouth. “You’re wet as shit.” He smirked, pulling his thumb out and grinding his erection directly on my clit. “I can smell your sweet pussy from here.” He forced my hand to his dick. “You don’t know what you’re missing.”
I yanked my hand back and slapped him.
His cheek turned red, my hand stung and his smile reached his eyes.
Anger eclipsed all my fear. “I don’t have your guns!”
He grabbed my wrist and slammed it against the wall above my head. “Doesn’t mean I won’t fuck you.”
“Get the hell off me.”
Slow and deliberate, he leaned forward and licked the side of my neck before he pulled back and glanced at my chest. “Your nipples are hard as shit. You sure?”
Something inside me snapped and I detached. I looked up into Candle’s calculating gaze and threw down the gauntlet. “You wanna fuck me? Kill me first.”
His expression darkened and he stilled. For three whole heartbeats he didn’t move. Then he leaned down to my ear and whispered, “Fuck, that’s sexy.”
My front door was kicked open.
BEFORE I COULD BLINK, CANDLE spun. Pulling a gun from his back waistband, training it on the intruder, he put me in a choke hold and used my body as a shield between him and the door.
My chest seized up in my throat and all the air left my lungs.
André stepped into my apartment. His face a steel mask of calm, he aimed his gun at Candle’s chest. “You okay, chica?”
I sucked in a restricted breath and managed a half nod.
Candle tightened his grip on me and smirked. “Long time no see, Luna.”
They knew each other?
“Not long enough.” André took a step toward us. “Drop your gun.”
Candle pulled me closer. “Fuck no.”
“You’re outnumbered.”
“By who? Your jarhead dropouts?”
Viking strode into my apartment. No weapon, no Kevlar vest like André, there was no mistaking the rigid set to his features. He was pissed as hell.
Candle swore under his breath. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
With the strength and purpose his sheer size afforded him, Neil moved past all of us and went directly to Conner’s room. Cracking the door without a sound, he took one quick look and strode back to us. His glare terrifying, he stepped right up to Candle and forced his aim off André and directly to his chest, dead center. “Let go of her.”
“Fuck you,” Candle taunted. “You’re not even armed.”
“I’m always armed.” Low, calculated and so threatening it made my knees shake, Viking’s voice took the tension in the small apartment to a whole new level.
Candle didn’t even flinch. “This is between me and her. Not your concern.”
“She is my concern.”
Four little words and everything I thought I’d ever wanted in life shattered. All of my hopes and dreams fell at my feet in a mocking pile of trash. Every absolute I’d ever known was thrown in my face. Men were shit. My son was gold. Every day began and ended with the knowledge that my strength, me alone, would pull us through. I didn’t fantasize about a shiny knight or fucking horses. Reality was the face of a felon who’d stolen guns with his son in the car. Heroes? Men who gave a shit? That wasn’t reality. Viking didn’t get to walk into my apartment and say four goddamn words that ruined everything, everything, I’d ever known.
Fighting tears of sheer anger, my fists clenched and rage bit at my gut. “Get out, Neil.”
Candle laughed. “You heard her.”
Cold, cruel, Viking’s gaze cut to mine. “Where is the boy?”
“None of your business,” I snapped.
“Ariel,” André warned.
Sick of all of their alpha bullshit, not thinking about the consequences, I jerked out of Candle’s grip and jabbed a finger at Viking’s chest. “The boy has a name!”
Candle moved first.
He shifted his aim and cold metal hit the side of my head. Viking grabbed my upper arm and I was spun in a half circle. My back hit Viking’s chest and his huge arm reached across me and grabbed the barrel of Candle’s gun. Viking yanked and Candle’s aim left my head and landed on him.
“Pull the trigger,” Viking warned, gripping Candle’s gun and holding it flush against his left shoulder. “See what happens.”
My heart threatening to quit, Viking’s spicy musk washed over me like a cruel dream.
André stepped to the side of us and aimed at Candle’s head. “He’ll have a through and through. You won’t be so lucky.”
Candle tipped his chin at André but he didn’t take his eyes off Viking. “Not my first lay, Luna.” The hand bracing the hand holding the gun flicked. Quicker than I could focus on his movements, Candle spun something black in his palm and came away with a vicious serrated knife.
Steady, rhythmic, Viking’s chest rose and fell against my back with each measured breath. “SEAL?” he asked quietly.
Both gun and knife now pointing at Viking, Candle scoffed. “Do I look like a fucking princess?”
“Ranger,” Viking stated as if a puzzle piece was falling into place.
“Took you long enough, Jægerkorpset,” Candle countered. “You won’t walk out of here with only a through and through.”
“You will not walk out, period.”
“Maybe not. But I won’t go down alone.” Candle’s eyes made a telltale glance in my direction. “You sure you can protect her before I hit the ground?”
Viking said something in Danish.
André lowered his aim and stepped back. “Come here, chica.”
Candle shook his head. “Stay right where you are, sweetheart, unless you want to see your boyfriend bleed.”
Viking spoke again in Danish. André moved toward Candle’s back.
“One more step, Luna, and I pull the trigger.” The corner of Candle’s mouth tipped up like he was enjoying himself. “That was textbook, Christensen. I expected more out of you.”
“You will be dead before the knife hits her chest,” Viking retorted.
Candle winked. “I wasn’t aiming for her chest.”
Viking’s arm moved up a few inches from my chest and covered my throat.
Dread rose from my stomach and I tried to swallow but couldn’t.
Candle smiled. “Now I’m aiming for her chest.”
André stepped forward, his gun raised.
Viking shook his head once and André lowered his aim. “How much?” he asked Candle.
Candle’s smile amped up. “W
hat makes you think this is about money?”
“Because you have none,” Viking stated.
Candle slowly nodded and studied Viking a moment. “You sure about that?”
Shaking, victimized, and angrier by the second, I couldn’t stand there another moment. I needed to get to Conner and I needed to do it now. Praying he would understand, I tapped Viking’s leg. “Let go of me, Neil.”
Candle smirked and André took aim at his head again. Shockingly, Viking raised his arm off my neck and without letting go of Candle’s gun, he gave me enough room to escape. I ducked under him.
“C’mere, sweetheart.” Candle didn’t take his eyes off Viking.
I sidestepped him. “Fuck you, Candle. Shoot them both for all I care.” My heart pounding, my knees practically knocking, I reached for every drop of attitude I had and stormed to Conner’s room. Just as I closed the door, the thunderous stomping of men running up my stairs accompanied the telltale sound of guns being cocked. It sounded like fucking Armageddon as I stumbled to the closet, dropped to my knees and slowly opened the door.
My baby was sound asleep.
I barely registered the raised voices coming through the walls. Panic hit me so hard, my chest burned and air refused to fill my lungs. I didn’t have a bullet in my brain or a knife impaled in my throat and Conner was safe. I kept telling myself that, over and over as air tried to wheeze past my mouth and squeeze into my lungs, but it only got harder to draw in a full breath. My vision blurred and my fingers curled in on themselves.
Giant thigh muscles appeared in my line of sight as I gasped for air, any air, and a huge hand cupped the back of my neck. My legs were shoved apart and my head was pushed between them.
“Breathe,” Viking commanded.
My chest pressed to my knees, I couldn’t.
Then I was airborne and the hallway flashed into my view before my ass hit something soft and my bed squeaked. A string of foreign words filled my bedroom and movement erupted around me. Noises, crumpling, no oxygen.
Shit, shit, shit.
“Ariella.”
I was going to die.
My hands in balls, my toes curling, my chest compressed, this was it. Oh God, Conner.