Tamed (Corcoran Team: Bulletproof Bachelors Book 3)

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Tamed (Corcoran Team: Bulletproof Bachelors Book 3) Page 2

by HelenKay Dimon


  With the order given, Shane headed for the guy. Checked for breathing and was relieved the guy was still alive, because it was tough to question a dead man.

  “Zip ties?” He knew she had them, but he asked anyway. No sister of Holt Kingston, leader of the Corcoran traveling team, would have a house without zip ties. The bigger question was why the attacker had stormed in here. He had nailed the door with a determined kick, and Shane wanted to know why. “Did he say anything to you?”

  “Barely.” She buzzed into the kitchen and came back with the restraints.

  “I’m going to need to hear every word.” Shane went to work on binding the unconscious man. “I’m guessing he was here to rob you, but with your connection to the Corcoran Team, we can’t be too careful.”

  “He’s not here for me. They...he...broke into the house next door.” She paced the floor a few feet away from him. “I saw him, he saw me and then he came over here.”

  The idea of her being a witness brought him some comfort. Wrong place, wrong time. It sucked, but it meant she wasn’t the target. That would help him sleep again...someday.

  “Here.” He handed her his cell. “Call the police. They’ll need to check on the neighbors.”

  “I hate to think about what they’ll find over there.”

  “You’re not alone on that.” Shane did a quick pocket check of the unconscious guy. He was about to stand up when he touched a piece of paper. Slipped it out of the guy’s pocket and read the message. The words on it hit Shane like a kick to the gut.

  She froze while pacing back and forth a few feet away. “What is it?”

  “Your name and address.”

  She frowned. “What?”

  There was only one explanation, and it chilled him straight to the bone. “The men were here for you.”

  Chapter Two

  Makena tried not to throw up. Shane didn’t spook easily. The guy tracked killers and kidnappers for a living. He waded into danger without blinking. But now he was crouched down in her family room, holding that piece of paper with his face turning pale and his mouth flattening into a thin line.

  Without saying a word, Shane turned back to the downed man and ripped off the knit cap covering his face. “Do you recognize this guy? Have you ever seen him?”

  Those qualified as the questions she could answer without even thinking about it. One look and she knew. “No. Never.”

  “Did he say anything that could—”

  “Why is he here? Why my neighborhood?” That was all she could think to ask even though she knew the questions didn’t make sense or even match what Shane was saying.

  A guy in a commando outfit storming into your house and holding a gun should raise a whole bunch of questions. None came to her in that moment. Her mind went blank. She chalked it up to some sort of weird self-protection mechanism.

  She had no idea what her outward reaction looked like, but it had Shane standing up and reaching for her. His eyes narrowed as he stepped over the motionless body and put a hand on her arm. A touch she couldn’t even feel.

  “Let’s try this,” he said as he stood there facing her. “Take a deep breath.”

  “Okay.” He could say anything next. She was willing to do or say whatever would unravel the confusion of the last few minutes.

  “Did you tell anyone about Holt or the Corcoran Team?” Shane pitched his voice low as he asked, “Maybe in conversation or by accident? Even a mention of the team’s name?”

  It took a second for the question to register. She’d expected...something else. “No.”

  “It’s fine if you did. I just need to know.”

  “I said no,” she said, her voice growing louder with each word. She knew better. Corcoran’s work depended on secrecy and the ability to move freely without being identified. They worked for governments and corporations, protecting and rescuing. She would never endanger anyone on the team.

  And she would never risk Shane’s life. Seeing him now, the broad shoulders and fit build that had his T-shirt hugging his biceps and hanging loose over his flat stomach, made her a little breathless. The short light brown hair and that familiar scruff around his chin just begged for her to run a finger over it. He possessed a handsome, almost pretty face that guaranteed an unending stream of teasing from his teammates...and she’d spent years loving him from a distance.

  “It’s easy to do.” Shane shook his head. “More than once I’ve—”

  “Honestly, Shane. No.” She’d failed at a lot of things in her life, but not this. The safety of the people she cared about ranked above everything else. She’d never even stepped close to that line.

  His gaze searched hers for another second. “I believe you.”

  “You should.” It was almost insulting that he experienced any doubt.

  “That leaves very few reasonable options.” He stood so close and leaned in as he spoke. “Are you messed up in something?”

  The words didn’t make any sense at first. It was as if the slam against the floor had rattled her brain. Scrambled whatever up there helped her comprehend simple sentences. “Like what?”

  “Something that would bring armed men to your door.”

  “Are you serious?” She worked at a desk. She read files and sat in on meetings. Nothing about her life shouted excitement...except for one thing. Her secret. The one piece she never shared. The same side work that kept her sane and would make Shane furious if he knew. She couldn’t even imagine the warnings and threats he’d issue if he knew.

  More body aches sparked to life the longer she stood there. She tried to take a mental inventory. Sore knee. A twinge in her back. That pain when she moved her wrist a certain way. She was going to be one big thumping bruise tomorrow.

  “I’m being thorough.” He talked slowly, enunciating each word. “We can’t miss anything. Even the smallest bit can sometimes provide the lead.”

  “I work in college admissions. I can’t really imagine a kid or a kid’s parents resorting to this sort of revenge for an application rejection.” Maybe she could, but that didn’t mean they’d be able to find her. Neither her cell nor her address was public record.

  But the other thing. She bit her bottom lip as she tried to reason it out. The part of her life, the private part, where she sat at a computer and conducted interviews. Pored through records and looked for lies. Those men could get angry enough to hurt her.

  Shane stood over six feet and now he bent down until they stood eye to eye. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  “Nothing.”

  His intense stare didn’t let up. “We’ve known each other for too long for me not to pick up on that bobble in your voice.”

  “I was attacked.” But he was right. It had been years. She’d met him through Holt. Shane was her big brother’s best friend. The guy with the bad marriage and, eventually, the difficult divorce. The one who made sure Holt came home safe from their assignments. The one who hung around and joked and looked and smelled so good.

  For Makena, appreciation and attraction had grown from the second they met. She’d kept her feelings locked inside and pushed them away while he was married. Once he was single again, her gaze started lingering longer on Shane’s broad chest. Even when they weren’t together, the memory of his deep voice vibrated in her head. She looked forward to seeing him, even if the peek amounted to nothing more than a quick glimpse as Shane dropped Holt off somewhere.

  She missed him when he was gone and enjoyed whatever little time they spent together these days. And today she silently thanked him for getting there on time. His entry had made all the difference. Anything could have happened to her if he’d waited a few more minutes to show up.

  A groan cut off her mental wanderings. Low and almost a growl, it had her attention zipping to the floor. The attacker didn’t move and his eyes didn’t open, but the air changed. She felt rather than saw movement.

  She shifted so they could both look down. “He’s waking up.”

  “Good
.” Shane moved her back, just far enough that the attacker’s hand no longer rested next to her foot. “I have some questions for him.”

  Funny, but all she wanted was to see the guy dragged out of her house and locked up. The why mattered, but seeing the guy’s presence triggered a constant shaking inside her. “Any chance we could handle those at the police station?”

  “I want to question this guy without an official report.”

  That sounded like one of those things Holt said and she tried to ignore because she did not want to know. “I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.”

  Shane took a step in the downed man’s direction and his eyes popped open. “You have two minutes to tell me who you are and why you’re here.” Shane aimed his gun at the attacker. “Or do you need an incentive?”

  “Shane, please.” The only thing she wanted less than to hear about Shane’s work plans was to watch them in action. She understood the need for hard talk—even violence—to combat evil, but she did not want to witness it firsthand. She’d had enough of that tonight.

  “Go wait outside for the police.” He never broke eye contact with the attacker. They’d launched into a staring contest and neither of them moved.

  She wanted Shane safe. She also wanted him to stay out of jail, so she was not leaving, no matter how much relief flooded through her at the thought at being outside in the fresh air and away from the injured attacker. “No way.”

  Shane shot her a quick glance before returning his attention to the guy on the floor. “I need answers. He has them.”

  The attacker lifted his head but didn’t say anything. His fingers moved on the carpet and sent Shane’s gaze bouncing.

  He held out a hand in her direction even as his focus remained on the attacker’s prone form. “Stay back.”

  She didn’t have any intention of getting closer. The exact opposite, actually. She took one step and backed into a chair. She could add her calf to the list of injured body parts.

  She swore as she glanced down. The room started spinning in slow motion. The attacker’s foot hooked around hers and he pulled. Her knee buckled as the air whizzed under her. Prone one second, the attacker moved with record speed the next as he jackknifed into a sitting position.

  Shane’s hand brushed her forearm as he made a grab for her, but the attacker proved to be a second faster. He wrapped an arm around her legs. She fell and her weight came down in a rush. The next time she inhaled, she lay on top of the attacker, her back against his front, with the fire poker balanced on her neck, keeping her locked against him.

  “Drop your gun.” Those were the first words the attacker had spoken since Shane raced through the back door.

  Her breath rushed out of her as her heartbeat thundered in her ears. The shaking inside her morphed into waves of panic. Tension filled the room and seemed to have Shane’s arm locked as he pointed the gun just past her head at the attacker.

  “I said drop it.” The pressure against her neck closed in, choking off what little air moved through her, as the attacker spoke. “Do it or I kill her.”

  “No.” Shane didn’t offer anything else. Just that.

  The attacker tightened his grip until his knuckles turned white. She could see his skin right by her face. His arms shook as he pulled in. The light began to fade on her.

  No way was she going out like this, in her own home while Shane watched. She flailed, shifting her weight and elbowing as she pushed and kicked.

  Shane said something, but she couldn’t hear him. Couldn’t hear anything. Could barely think.

  Movement flashed in front of her. Shane went from looming over them to shifting to the side. A bang echoed through the room, right by her face. She felt the attacker shudder behind her. His hold tightened for a fraction of a second, then slipped away.

  Her ears rang as Shane reached down and lifted her to her feet. She tried to turn and see what was happening as she rose, but Shane’s arm blocked her. Her body came to a halt and her head rested on his shoulder as her leg muscles gave out. She glanced over his arm and spied the blood on the floor around the attacker’s head, before she quickly closed her eyes again.

  Shane had shot the guy.

  The realization hit her and her stomach flipped. The trembling moving through her had her teeth chattering. “Did you...”

  His arm tightened around her waist as his hand brushed up and down her back. “Yes.”

  The soothing gesture threatened to suck her in. She fought off the comfort and pulled back so she could look up at him. “You mean you killed him.”

  “Yeah.”

  He didn’t deny it or try to pretty up the words. Part of her appreciated the clear voice and the sure way he spoke about his actions, without justification. But part of her hated how easy it all seemed for him.

  “Are you okay?” With his hands on her shoulders, he turned her body until his shoulders stood between her and an unwanted view of the death below her.

  She didn’t see a reason to lie, so she didn’t. “Not really.”

  “He would have killed you.” Shane sounded so sure.

  His conviction fueled hers. That fast, some of the haze cleared. “I know.”

  “Makena, I—” He broke eye contact and glanced toward the front of the house.

  She heard it, too. “Sirens.”

  “Now we have a problem.” Shane stepped back.

  “Now? As opposed to two minutes ago?”

  “Don’t panic.”

  That comment almost guaranteed she would. “I doubt that.”

  “The police are going to come in here and act like I’m the suspect.” He offered the explanation as he unloaded his gun.

  “What?” She needed Shane right where he was. Not down at a police station. Not in danger. But that wasn’t her only concern.

  A new wave of panic crashed over her. The police could not go through her house. There were papers, folders and files they could not see. She hadn’t done anything wrong, but she’d have to explain, and she couldn’t. Not to them. Maybe not even to Shane.

  He set his weapon on the table with the bullets next to it. “To be safe I’m going to get on my knees and—”

  She grabbed on to his arm and fought to keep him on his feet. “No, I need your help.” A frantic clawing ripped through her insides. “There are things here.”

  The sirens wailed and lights flashed outside the window. She could make out the shadows of people outside, likely neighbors gathered to see what was happening. There would be police and possibly press at some point.

  None of this could happen.

  Shane’s hand went to her shoulder, then up to touch her hair. “Talk to me.”

  “The police can’t go near my safe.” She’d locked everything away in anticipation of Shane’s visit. Gathered up every shred of evidence and hidden it. She knew if she’d left out even a piece of paper, Shane would sniff it out. She’d been so careful. And now...

  His eyes narrowed. “What are you saying?”

  “I’ll explain later.” She had his arm and started pushing and shoving him in the direction of the bedroom. “You just need to keep them away from the safe.”

  A banging started. Sounded like the side of a hand pounding against her front door. Then the doorbell dinged once, and then a second time. The noise hit a crescendo as her panic rose and whipped up around them.

  “I’ll keep the focus on me.” He motioned toward the front door. “Go let them in.”

  “What about—”

  “You’ll explain it all later.”

  She didn’t answer. Didn’t have time because the front door crashed in. Chaos exploded around her as uniformed officers piled into her small family room. She turned back around to say something to Shane, but he’d disappeared.

  Her glance dropped and she spied him on his knees, right near the body. He had his hands hooked behind his head, but the police kept shouting. They knocked him down on his stomach as they wrenched his arms behind his back.

  “N
o, he’s not—” A policeman pulled her back before she could rush in and move everyone off Shane.

  Shane turned his head to the side and looked up at her. “Call Connor.”

  Her brain scrambled. “My cell doesn’t work.” She shook her head, trying to remember where she put it or why that information even mattered.

  “They probably blocked the signal. Try again.” He glared, as if willing her to listen. “We need Connor.”

  Connor Bowen, the owner and head of the Corcoran Team. The man with power and connections. She knew one thing: if Shane needed Connor for reinforcements, they were all in trouble.

  Chapter Three

  Shane tried not to stare at her. Being in the same room with Makena always resulted in the same reaction. His heart rate kicked up as fast as his common sense took a nosedive. The black hair, usually pulled back with those sexy curls hanging down by her ears. The dark eyes and hints of the heritage passed down from her Japanese mother.

  The long legs and trim body...everything about her set his blood boiling. So beautiful that she tested every vow he’d ever made postdivorce about keeping relationships light and sex only. He wanted her every minute and fought off the attraction with every cell and every muscle.

  He tore his attention away from her and watched his team as he stood in the middle of her family room with activity buzzing around him. Cam and Connor had arrived. Connor had walked through the door and immediately started doing what he did best—he ran the whole show. Came in with a cover and ordered people, all while silently wrestling control away from whatever poor schmuck thought he ran the crime scene.

  Cam, along with Holt, formed the three-man traveling team for Corcoran. Cam showed up to help because that was what Cam did. No questions asked, he rushed in and provided support. Many times that included flying a helicopter. This time he stood on the other side of Makena, across from Shane, and made sure no one got near her.

  Connor broke away from the detective and headed over to the Corcoran semicircle. “We have one dead attacker.”

  “Thanks to Shane,” Cam said.

  “You would have done the same thing.” Every member of the team would have put his body in front of Makena. Forget about her being innocent, though that counted as a good answer. She was Holt’s sister, and no one touched the people the team members cared about.

 

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