by Sharon Wray
“Twenty. No more.”
Once the cop left, Calum opened the door. Juliet rushed into Rafe’s arms, and he held her closer than he’d known was possible for a man to hold a woman.
“Juliet?” Calum tapped her on the shoulder. “I need to talk to Rafe alone. Can you and Philip wait down the hall? Once I’m done, he’s all yours.”
She kissed Rafe and let Philip lead her away.
Calum snapped his fingers in front of Rafe’s face. “You heard about John?”
“Yes. I went there earlier to sign the deeds over to Juliet, but I didn’t hurt him.”
“Why? I thought we were on the same side when it came to her selling her land.”
“Because I’m returning to the Fianna.”
Calum raised his eyebrows into a perfect arch and tilted his head. “Excuse me?”
“I’m leaving tonight and never coming back.”
“Okaaaay.” Calum scrubbed the back of his neck with one hand. “You mean you’re leaving with Juliet.”
“I lost, Calum. Balthasar has Samantha and the vial.”
“Weren’t they going to kill you or torture you or something?”
“If I return to the brotherhood tonight, all punishments will be lifted.”
“What about Juliet?”
“I’m going alone.”
Calum dropped his hands to his hips in full-on lecture mode. “No. We can still fight. We’ll hunt Balthasar, save Samantha, retrieve the vial. Nate, Pete, and Garza can help us.”
“Nate and Pete are wanted men. Garza has already bent his moral convictions. I won’t ask him to break them. And I don’t want you getting any deeper involved with this. Saving Samantha and the vial is now the Fianna’s responsibility—if the Prince acts.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
Rafe stared at his friend. “If they take out Balthasar, there’ll be collateral damage.”
Calum backed up, his eyes stone-cold blue. “You’d let Samantha die?”
“I’ve no choice.”
“This will kill Juliet.” Calum’s breaths sounded short and labored. “And you? How will you survive without her?”
“Not well.” Understatement of the millennium.
“I called in a lot of favors to get you free. I did it to save you and Juliet. To save the best friends I’ve ever had. It can’t end this way.”
Rafe grasped Calum’s shoulder. “This second chance has been the greatest gift anyone’s ever given me. I’ll never forget it.”
“Will we ever see you again?”
“No. It won’t be allowed.”
Calum swallowed and looked away. “This will destroy her.”
“Which is why I need you to promise to look out for her, to protect her. When she’s hurt, she retreats into herself. Refuses help and goes to extremes to prove her independence and worthiness. Don’t let her do anything self-destructive.”
Calum’s hand covered his. “I promise to keep her safe. To make sure she never wants for anything.”
“Thank you.”
Calum wiped his cheek with his sleeve and jacked up his shoulders. “What do you want me to do about the judge?”
“Don’t worry about it. When the time is right, my brothers will come for me.”
“And Juliet? Do you want to see her? To say goodbye?”
No. “Yes.”
* * *
Juliet and Philip sat in the waiting room near an emergency exit. She checked the clock. Twelve minutes left. “Who are you texting?”
Philip hit send. “Just business.”
“Oh.” She stared at the gray floor, wishing she could stop time, when the back of her neck tingled. She scanned the room until she saw a dark-skinned man leaning against the wall, staring at the cell block door.
How did I not notice him before?
He almost rivaled Rafe in height and width. His motorcycle jacket emphasized his upper body. Black leathers encased muscular thighs and trim waist, and a black beanie covered his head. His crossed arms exposed a tattoo on one wrist, a leather cuff on the other. From his aggressive eyebrows to his steel-toed boots, his hard angles reeked of strength and force. He reminded her of Rafe.
Since Philip was engrossed in another text, she peeked again. Only this time the man stared at her. His dark eyes slashed and burned as they trailed across her body.
Her toes curled, and she wiped her hands on her skirt.
The lights hummed and blacked out for a moment. When they came back on, the man had disappeared and Calum stood in front of her.
She stood. “May I see him now?”
“Yes.” Calum handed her the keys. “But he’ll only see you and Philip together.”
Philip pressed a hand against her lower back. “How much time?”
“Seven minutes. When you’re done, meet me at the car.”
She ran into the cell block and down the hallway. Since this was the older part of the station, Rafe was the only one incarcerated down here. When she got to Rafe’s cell, she opened it with the keys, dropped her purse, and flung herself into his embrace. His warmth soothed her ragged edges and helped her breathe.
“I need to talk to both of you,” Rafe said softly.
Philip came in, arms crossed, scowl engraved. “You’re leaving again, aren’t you?”
“That’s ridiculous.” She shifted to glare at Philip. “Why would you say such a thing?”
“Because it’s the truth.”
Those words hadn’t come from Philip. They’d come from Rafe.
His arms dropped, and he stepped away. The brown eyes she loved held a hardness she’d never seen. His granite jaw could cut diamonds. Everything about him shifted to cold and hard. No humor. No winks. No teasing smiles. He’d also rolled up the sleeves of his shirt exposing the tattooed names on his right forearm. And the ribbon on his left wrist? Gone. As if it had never been there. “I’ve been lying to you.”
Philip scoffed. “We’re supposed to be surprised?”
She focused on the dark swirls in Rafe’s gaze. “About what?”
“My deal with the Prince. Whether or not I found the vial, I always had to return. I was never staying with you.”
“You were never staying with me?” She repeated the words just to hear them properly. “How long have you known that?”
“Since that first moment in Liberty Square.”
“You sought me out. I’m the one who ran away.”
“I needed you to find the vial. I couldn’t do it without you.”
“And what happened between us earlier tonight?” She didn’t care that Philip was listening to this. To his credit, Philip put a hand on her shoulder to keep her steady.
Rafe looked away. “Two adults seeking comfort.”
She put her hands on his chest. The heat coming off his body seared her. His muscles contracted, and his heart rate had to be ten times normal. “It was more than that. I can feel it.”
He gripped her wrists and pushed her away. “I’m leaving. For good this time.”
Her eyes burned, and her face felt tender and hot. He crossed his arms and sighed as if tired of the whole thing. “Philip, tell Pops thanks for the car. I gave the keys to Calum.”
She heard Philip swallow before saying, “Okay.”
“I still don’t understand,” she said. “Your tattoos—they’re not real.” She forced herself to look at his arm. Despite the time spent in his bed, washing his body, making love to him, she’d shied away from reading his right arm. But now, she didn’t. Without his permission or approval, she pushed his sleeve up his massive arm. He didn’t stop her. In fact, he moved it up higher until he revealed the bicep she couldn’t encircle with two hands.
In perfect script, names had been inked in a circular pattern from wrist to shoulder. She lost count after six
ty, but traced each one with her finger. And he let her.
“The names are true?” Philip’s voice sounded breathy, tortured.
She threw Rafe’s arm away and backed up.
“Why wouldn’t they be?”
“I’d just hoped…” Philip paused because Rafe went to the cot, grabbed a manila envelope, and put it in Juliet’s bag on the floor. “What are you doing?”
“Those are the deeds to Capel land.” Rafe then said to Philip, “Take Juliet and get out of here. ASAP.”
She tore her attention from Rafe and turned to Philip. He’d shoved his hands in his pants pockets and stared at the ground. His shoulders heaved and then slumped. For the first time she realized that Rafe’s betrayal—then and now—hadn’t just affected her. It’d torn apart his family. He hadn’t only abandoned her. He’d left his younger brother who’d always adored him and the father who disapproved of yet loved him.
She stared at Rafe’s arm again, remembering everything she’d learned about Fianna warriors and their tithes to the Prince. Rafe’s tattoos weren’t real. Not just because she wanted that to be true but because the idea of the tattoos had, for years, kept her from trying to find him. The idea of the tattoos had been a perfect ploy to break them up and set Rafe free.
“No.” The word came as an order instead of a response. “You’re not doing this. I’m not letting you sacrifice yourself for me again. We’re going to figure this out together. And if you won’t help me, I’ll get Nate, Pete, Calum, and Garza to help me.”
“Juliet—”
She held up her hand. “I’m going to find the Prince and tell him we’re not playing these games anymore. You’ve given them eight years of your life. You’ve paid your tithe.”
“What are you talking about?” Philip’s stare bounced between her and Rafe. “Who is the Prince, and what the hell is a tithe?”
She didn’t answer because Rafe’s jaw moved from the force of his molars grinding themselves down.
“Don’t do this, Juliet.” Rafe’s voice dropped, and he grabbed both her arms. “You can’t negotiate with them. It’s too dangerous.”
“I don’t need your protection or your permission.” She broke out of his grip and pressed one hand against his heart. “I need you. And if you won’t fight for yourself, then I will.”
The lights flickered again. When the regular lights didn’t return, the backup generator kicked in with a loud grunting noise followed by red emergency lights.
“Time’s up,” the officer said from outside the cell. “Another storm’s come through, messing with the power. Gotta lock him back up.”
She reached for her purse. “Don’t worry, Rafe. I’ll take care of everything.”
Rafe moved forward until the guard blocked his way. “Stay away from the Prince. You’ll make everything worse.”
“Things can’t get any worse.” She slung her purse handle over her shoulder and pulled on Philip’s arm. “Let’s go. I’ll explain it all outside.”
Once she and Philip left the cell, Rafe called out, “Don’t do this, Juliet. Please.”
As hard as it was to ignore him and not look back, she had a goal. She was going to extricate Rafe from the Prince. She just had to figure out how.
At the cell block door, she ran into the dark-skinned, leather-clad man, who said, “Je suis désolé, madame,” and kept going.
Once they were back in the waiting room, alarms blared and the red emergency lights blinked.
Philip shouted over the blaring sounds, “Let’s get out of here.”
The red flashes blinded her as they left through the emergency exit. Drizzle glistened on the asphalt, and by the time she reached the sidewalk, her hair and dress were soggy. Officers ran into the building, and she heard shouts.
She hiked her purse higher onto her shoulder. It now held her grants and her deeds. The two things she once thought she wanted more than anything.
“Come on.” Philip hustled her across the street until they found a covered storefront. Fire trucks raced by, and smoke rose above the riverfront a few blocks away. Sirens whirred in the night air. Helicopters hovered overhead.
A dark SUV came around the corner as two men ran out from an alley next to the police station. The first man shoved the second into the car. The driver pulled away before the door shut, tires squealing.
A black car pulled up in front of Juliet and Philip, and the back door opened.
Philip took her arm. “The sooner we get away from this mess, the sooner we can get on with our lives.”
She slid across the leather seat, except Calum wasn’t there. This wasn’t Calum’s car.
“What are you—” Philip’s voice ended with a thump. A man in a hoodie punched Philip in the stomach. He fell onto his knees, and the man kicked him. His head hit the curb.
“No!” She scrambled out, but the man pushed his way in and leered.
Deke.
She kicked him. He slapped her across the face, throwing her against the door frame. Her vision faded, and pain radiated from her cheek to her ear.
“Go!” Deke ordered the driver. “Balthasar is waiting.”
“Straight. Savage.”
She scrambled for the handle, and the locks clicked. Through the window, she saw Calum get out of his car across the street and run toward her. But the driver of her vehicle gunned the engine.
The SUV must’ve made a U-turn because it came roaring down the street. A black van came from the other direction and swerved, forcing the SUV to the side of the road.
“Drive!” Deke’s hot hand moved up her thigh, and she spat at him. He slapped her again. “Bitch!”
The car sped away. She couldn’t see the SUV or Calum because Deke had captured both of her wrists in one hand. He shifted over her, his black cross hanging off his neck. His garlic-tainted breath burned as he hissed, “Finally.”
The car halted suddenly, brakes squealing, throwing her and Deke onto the floor. She hit her head and slipped into blackness.
Chapter 44
Nate and Pete left the club. Instead of after-storm coolness, the humidity was cranked to 100 percent. They were loaded with water and weapons, ready to search for the safe house.
Nate paused. “Do you hear sirens?”
“Yes.” Pete faced the river. “I smell smoke.”
Nate’s phone buzzed with a message from Calum. Nate’s heart kicked like a pistol being cocked. Then he ran back inside the club, yanking Pete’s arm along the way. “Do we have a first aid kit?”
“Yes. I think someone who worked here was an army medic or something. There’s a combat medic kit in the kitchen closet.”
Ten minutes later, they had the stainless-steel kitchen work table cleared and the windows covered with cardboard and duct tape so they could turn on the lights.
Pete checked his watch. “They should be here by now.”
Nate went to the back door as a black Bentley drove into the alley with its lights off. Garza jumped out of the driver’s seat.
Nate ran to help Garza and Calum with Philip. His shirt was sticky, and his hands were covered with blood.
“I don’t know how much blood he’s lost,” Garza said.
Hopefully Philip wouldn’t need a transfusion. They made it to the kitchen and laid him on the counter. Pete was laying out first aid supplies.
“Nate, I need hot water and clean cloths.” Pete nodded toward the bottle of industrial soap and a box of latex gloves near the sink. “Everyone washes hands and puts on gloves.”
Nate came back to the table with the water and dish towels that still smelled like bleach. For as disgusting as the club was, the kitchen was surprisingly clean. “What happened?”
“I’ll tell you what fucking happened.” Garza held Philip’s shoulders down on the table while Pete cut away Philip’s blood-soaked shirt. “The Fianna s
et two diversions, attacked your MPs, and broke Rafe out of jail.”
“That’s what happened to you,” Calum said while washing his hands. “I was almost run over by Balthasar’s guys.”
“Wait.” Nate glanced up. “Balthasar has guys?”
“Yep. At least two.”
“I didn’t see any guys.” Garza washed up, put on a pair of gloves, and went back to securing Philip. “By the time I got outside, I found Calum trying to carry Philip.”
“Shit.” Pete began to clean up Philip’s stomach and muttered, “Shit,” again.
“Is it bad?” Philip asked.
“Some of your sutures ripped. And you have a goose egg on your head. If I can stitch you up and stop the bleeding, you’ll only have to worry about infection and pain and maybe a concussion.”
“I’m good with that.”
“Nate,” Pete said. “I need a suture kit. It’s in the bottom of the first aid box.”
Nate opened the suture kit for Pete while Calum took out his phone and started texting.
“What are you doing?” Nate asked Calum.
“Fixing this.”
“It’s my fault,” Philip groaned from the table.
“Nate!” Pete ordered. “Any pain meds in that case?”
“Tramadol pills and lidocaine cream.”
“No narcotics.” Philip struggled to sit until Garza pressed him down again. “I can’t help her if I’m drugged.”
While Nate cleaned Philip’s wound, Pete laid out the tools he needed to stitch up Philip. “What do you mean by it being your fault?”
Calum’s shoulders sloped over the phone. “Balthasar has Juliet.”
“And I helped get her kidnapped,” Philip said.
Nate took Philip’s jaw and stared into his eyes. “Juliet is where?”
“With Deke.”
“With Balthasar,” Calum corrected.
Pete stopped sewing. “Why would she be with either?”
“Because,” Philip said, “I was taking her to someone who wanted to buy her property. Now that Rafe’s left her again, I wanted her to be free.”
“This whole thing is a damn soap opera,” Garza said.