Frost Security: The Complete 5 Books Series

Home > Other > Frost Security: The Complete 5 Books Series > Page 99
Frost Security: The Complete 5 Books Series Page 99

by Glenna Sinclair


  I fluttered my eyelids a little. “Okay.”

  “I never told you about what my parents did to me, did I?” he asked as he grabbed the front of his shirt and began to pull it up so I could see his chest. Little circular scars covered his chest and abdomen. Puckered, tight rings of scar tissue all over. Cigarette burns.

  I winced, reaching out a shaky hand to him.

  “They’d put their smokes out on me when I was bad in school. When I mouthed off at home. When I was good in school, or didn’t mouth off. Or because the day ended in ‘y.’ Said it was to get the demons out, Becks.”

  I didn’t know how to feel. This madman, one of my oldest friends, had just spent the last few months terrorizing me in secret, and the last couple hours making my life hell right out in the open. He’d framed my godfather, tried to blow up the man I loved, and was holding me now at gunpoint.

  But, deep down in those dark eyes of his, I could see the Derrick I’d met that first day at ERHS. How timid and weird he’d been at first. How edgy he was that all the other kids were worried about it. But, ultimately, how harmless he’d really been. I ran my finger over one of the scars and traced the puckered edges of the ring.

  He slapped my hand away and pulled his shirt back down, covering the countless rings of damaged tissue on his chest. Harmless back then, at least.

  I pulled my hand back, but I didn’t divert my eyes. I couldn’t look away.

  “Understand now? You brought me back here, you bitch. I’d gotten away from this place. I had a girl, I had a good job. Now I’m stuck here waiting for that old bitch to die. Having to wait on her hand and foot, having to wait for her to just expire from this world. But she’s so hate-filled, Becks, I know she won’t be going for a long, long time. She’s going to stick around and make sure my life stays a living hell.”

  I slumped into myself, my posture collapsing forward as I let out a deep sigh of regret. “Oh, Derrick,” I groaned. “I had no idea it was that bad for you. If I had, maybe Uncle Zeke or I could have done something.”

  “Well, guess what,” he said, climbing back to his feet and grabbing the diesel can. He set it down in front of me. “You can.”

  I looked down at the can and looked back up at him. “What do you want me to do?”

  “Pour it on yourself,” he said as he pulled Matthew’s handgun from the back of his jeans, “or I put a bullet in your head with your little boyfriend’s gun. We’ll see how easy he can get out of that one.”

  I shuddered at the thought. Would they go after him for something like that? Would he end up being cell mates with Uncle Zeke when it was all said and done?

  Derrick pointed the gun at me.

  I stared up into the black hole of existence that was the barrel of Matthew’s pistol.

  Non-existence hid somewhere down there, down at the very beginning of it. Non-existence measured in just a few grams of lead.

  I swallowed hard. It was either I do it myself, or he did it for me and blamed it all on the best man I’d ever known. In retrospect, it wasn’t that hard of a choice. I reached out for the canister of diesel.

  Figured I was dead either way. Might as well save Matthew the time spent talking to Sheriff Peak.

  Not a hard choice at all.

  Chapter Fifty-one – Matthew

  Chief Beckett’s truck hadn’t even slowed before I was out the door and going at a dead sprint through the pine trees ahead of me.

  I could smell Rebecca’s blood in the air. I could smell her fear. I could smell the diesel fumes.

  “Please, Derrick,” I could hear her cry. “You don’t have to do this!”

  “Shut the fuck up, Becks. Just do it, or I put a bullet in your head. Makes no difference to me.”

  I pounded through the woods, my heavy boots stamping down into earth. I could smell the gun oil on him, knew he was armed, as I raced through the trees.

  “Derrick!” she wailed, her voice full of tear and anguish.

  “Do it!”

  Up ahead through the trees, Derrick stood over her kneeling form with my sidearm in hand. He must have broken into my truck and gotten it from my glove box before he went to get Rebecca. My mate knelt there, crying, fuel can tightly gripped in both hands.

  I raced forward.

  She lifted the can and began to pour it over her face and body, screaming as it filled her cuts and scratches. “Derrick! Matthew! No!”

  “Derrick!” I roared, not even thinking about the consequences, as I raced out from the line of trees.

  He turned towards me, barrel swinging as he changed his focus.

  I went straight on.

  He pulled the trigger. Hot lead pierced my leg, slowing me down for a moment as the bullet punched through the muscle of my thigh.

  I hit him low and hard, lifting him bodily from the ground.

  Derrick yelled soundlessly, gasping for air as he pounded my head and shoulders with his fists and the butt of my sidearm.

  I carried him half-aloft, rushing him out to the creek.

  He tried shooting, but his shot went wild, out to the other side of the creek.

  My lungs burning like hot oil had been poured into them, I body-slammed him into the water. I’d never done anything more satisfying in my life.

  He came splashing up from the creek, drenched in water, screaming as blood streamed down his face. Hot, fresh blood. The kind of blood a wolf would literally kill for.

  “Matthew!” Rebecca screamed from behind me. “Matthew, no! Don’t hurt him!”

  God, I wanted to, though. For everything he’d done, everything he’d tried to do, and for all the damage and pain he’d caused my mate. But Rebecca was right. I couldn’t just hurt him or kill him. No matter how much I wanted to. Instead, I reached down as he floundered in the water and snatched the gun from his hand with a quick disarm, twisting it roughly until I heard his index finger snap and pop.

  He screamed in agony as I broke his finger. He stopped when I punched him in the jaw.

  Chapter Fifty-two – Rebecca

  It didn’t take someone having shifter senses to realize how awful the two of us smelled. Between the smoke on Matthew and the diesel on me, we were definitely two of a kind as we sat on the rocks, listening to the babble of the nearby creek, punctuated by the crackling and popping of police and fire department radios and walkie-talkies.

  Peter Frost, Chief Beckett, and Sheriff Peak all stood off on the side, quietly murmuring together about the best way to go about things. About the ANFO and about the charges being leveled against Derrick Newhouse, my former best friend.

  “I just can’t believe this,” I murmured as I leaned against Matthew, snuggling into his horrible, smoky smell. “I can’t believe it was all him.”

  “I can’t either,” he replied, sighing as he held me closer. “He was right there under my nose the whole time, and I didn’t suspect him more than the once.”

  “You actually suspected him?”

  “Well, of course. I’m an investigator. You suspect everyone.”

  “Even your client?” I asked with a half-smirk.

  “Especially your client,” he said with a little grin. “Unless, of course, your client is a beautiful high school English teacher.”

  “Oh? Is that all it takes to get a pass?”

  He laughed, pulled me closer, and kissed me on the forehead. If he minded the taste of the diesel on my skin, he didn’t mention it.

  “I thought that was really the end,” I said quietly. “Back there.”

  He swallowed, a thick, heavy, hollow sound in his chest as I leaned against him. “Yeah. I almost thought you were gone, too.”

  “I meant about you. When the fire truck exploded, I could have sworn I felt it. Like…like a piece of my soul was being chewed up by the universe and spit back out. Like a part of me was being carved off by the grim reaper himself.”

  He kissed my forehead again and smiled against it. “Yeah.”

  We stayed like that for a few more minutes.


  “I’ve got a question,” he said finally. “And you can say no if you want. You’ve had a lot going on lately, and I’ll totally understand.”

  “Go on…”

  “Well, I kind of have a wedding to go to this weekend.”

  “Let me guess,” I replied. “You still need a date, don’t you?”

  He laughed.

  “Of course I’ll go with you,” I said. “Just as long as the bride and groom don’t mind that I have more bruises than a rugby team.”

  “Believe me,” he said, “with this group, you’d look out of place if you didn’t have them.”

  Chuckling, I looked away. When I looked back a moment later, though, he was still gazing down at me. “What?” I asked, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious.

  “Nothing,” he said, brushing a stray strand of hair from my forehead. “I was just thinking about how beautiful you are. And how much I love you.”

  That was it. Tears formed in the corners of my eyes as I threw my arms around his neck, just like the first day we met, and dragged his lips down to mine.

  “I love you, too,” I whispered against his lips. “Always.”

  Chapter Fifty-three – Peter Frost

  “I do,” Jessica Long said, her hands clasped tightly with Richard Murdoch’s.

  “I do, too,” Ashley Maxwell said, giggling a little as she just as tightly clung to the big mitts of Frank O’Dwyer.

  “Then,” Peter said finally, a somber look on his face as he stood there at the head of the gathering beneath the canopied tent they’d erected on his property, “I pronounce you all husbands and wives. Gentlemen, you may kiss your respective bride.”

  Richard and Jessica embraced on the left side of the little ceremony area, while Ashley and Frank kissed on the right. In front of Peter, the whole crowd rose to their feet, cheering and clapping.

  They'd built a life here. A real life. One where, hopefully, he could see his pack grow and thrive. Where Mary could graduate school next year. Where maybe Richard and Jessica's children could go through school, and Frank and Ashley could even join the PTA. Hell, maybe after Mary finished up next year, she could even look at college. Have a shot at a normal life.

  Peter couldn’t help but grin as his two pack members wed their mates in front of the crowd of revelers. It seemed like the whole town of Enchanted Rock had turned up to take part in the festivities. He didn’t even mind that they’d turned a sizable chunk of his land into a parking lot.

  “It’s my pleasure to present to you, Mr. and Mrs. Murdoch, and Mr. and Mrs. O’Dwyer.”

  “You don’t look too bad,” Peter said as he and Matthew shook hands. “Little bruised, little cut. Not too bad.”

  He didn’t look too bad, that much was true. His shifter healing abilities had kicked in just fine. Even the bullet wound in his thigh was healed, from what the guys said.

  It was the first time they’d really seen each other since a couple nights before at the creek. After that, Peter had to bury his head in the work of getting the ceremony going. He’d had to organize plenty of missions and supply operations back in his Navy days, and this wasn’t that much different. It was all about knowing how to schedule comings and goings and setup times.

  “What about me, though?” Rebecca asked from beside him. Her makeup covered the abrasions and bruises for the most part, but she was still walking with a pronounced limp.

  “Just as beautiful as ever, Ms. Stokes,” he said, hugging her close.

  “You know,” she said as they pulled back, “flattery isn’t going to get Mary a better grade in my class next year, no matter how devilishly good, or undeserved, it is.”

  “Flattery?” Peter asked, smiling more than he had for the first time in weeks. “Only speaking the truth.”

  “Alright,” Matthew said, cutting off their little tit-for-tat, “you two lay off. No sense in my boss, or my alpha, flirting with my woman like this.”

  Peter and Rebecca both laughed. It felt good to laugh. It felt like, after the week they’d had—hell, the year they’d had—they all deserved a little more joy than they received.

  The new couple, perfectly bonded and bound together, drifted off moments later, though. They meandered over towards the line to congratulate the brides and grooms, where people were queued all the way out into the yard.

  “Get my message?” Jake Wayne asked in a low voice as he came up to Peter.

  “I did,” Peter said with a nod. “Walk with me.”

  Together, the two men headed over to the open bar. They ordered a couple beers from the bartender, Roy from the Elk, and tipped him liberally. Beers in hand, they made their way to a back table and took a seat. The toasts weren’t for a while longer, and they could both slip off unnoticed for a moment.

  “Found something?” Peter asked.

  “I did. Didn’t want to send it by message or email. I think we might be watched.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “Flight numbers and details out of Durango, local municipal airport. You’re right. Jaeger-Tech is here. Well, at least one of their companies is.”

  Peter groaned and took a large swig of beer. “How long?”

  “A month, at least. Maybe longer. This is just what I’ve been able to track down. Private flight came in earlier this week, but that’s as much I know.”

  “No heavy artillery moving in, then?”

  “Nothing like Norman, with Mary’s family, if that’s what you’re asking. I think it’s just recon at the moment, scoping us out.”

  Peter swore softly, swirling his bottle around. This wasn’t unexpected, but it sure as shit wasn’t welcome, either. But the idea that Jaeger-Tech was finally coming after them did have a certain appeal to it. After all, they were going to be a tougher nut to crack than most of the other packs they’d already hunted down.

  “Anything else?”

  Jake shrugged. “Not much. I think Lacy should do a preliminary sweep of all our systems and electronic devices, though, before we break the news to the guys. One little peep about us knowing about them, and they might strike before we’re ready. Try to get the drop on us.”

  Peter nodded sagely. “Think there’s some of them here?”

  Jake sighed. “No clue. I tried vetting all the guests, but there were plenty on the brides’ sides that I just wasn’t sure about.”

  Peter shook his head. “I’m not worried. They won’t strike right now, not out in the open. A war like this is fought in the shadows and you can’t fight that kind of war at a wedding in the middle of day, even if this is a small town. Too many questions are raised, especially in this day and age.”

  “We’re safe, then?”

  “For now.”

  But, Peter wanted to add, for how much longer?

  Peter clinked his spoon against his champagne glass as he rose to his feet. “I’d like to propose a toast,” Peter called out over the crowd. Everyone had finally been seated for dinner, and everyone’s conversation died down to a low murmur as the head of Frost Security called their attention to the front like a proper master of ceremonies.

  “To the lovely brides, Ashley and Jessica, two of the most beautiful and intelligent women to ever hire Frost Security. It’s no surprise you managed to capture the hearts of two of my best men.”

  Cheers of “here, here!” rose through the crowd as Peter turned his attention to Richard and Frank.

  “Men,” he began, his voice clear as it rang out over the crowd, “you two are like brothers to me. You know that, I know that. We all know that. We’ve gone through more than most soldiers ever do, and our roots run deep. I know I’ve only known you for a few years, all things considered, but I feel like we’ve been together our whole lives.

  “Now, I know you two. Which means I know you two have both screwed up a few things in your life.” A smattering of laughter came from the crowd. “Believe me, I’ve read your permanent files at the Department of Defense.” More laughter. “But, please, Richard, Frank…f
or the love of God, don’t screw this up, too. You’re not going to find any better than these two women, that’s for damn sure.”

  Cheers from the crowd erupted as everyone raised their drinks, and the sound of glasses clinking together echoed as everyone toasted to the bride and groom.

  “And one more thing,” Peter said, still standing at his place near the head of the tent. Now, though, he gazed out over the crowd of assembled townspeople that had turned up in droves to help his pack celebrate this marriage. “I’d like to thank everyone for attending. Frost Security came to Enchanted Rock just a few years ago. We’re from all over the country. Some of us without a home, some of us from places we miss. But, in all our years traveling around the world on deployment, I’ve never encountered people so warm and welcoming as the people of Enchanted Rock. You’ve taken us in, have been willing to take us at our word, and are now here to celebrate what’s probably the most important day of these young couples’ lives. And for that, I’d like to propose a toast to all of you.”

  He then stopped abruptly, the words catching in his throat like he was allergic to shellfish and he’d just had lobster for the first time.

  There she was, at the back of the tent. He recognized her. How had he not smelled her as she approached? How was Peter just now realizing she was here?

  Richard Murdoch nudged him in the side, bringing his attention back to the crowd that was still staring at him, waiting for him to finish his toast.

  Peter swallowed hard as he looked back to the woman and saw that she hadn’t just disappeared like a mirage. “To all of you,” he said again, his voice dry and husky. “May you all stay as wonderful and welcoming as ever. And may we always call the beautiful town of Enchanted Rock home.”

  The crowd burst out in cheers and applause as glasses clinked together.

  Peter promptly excused himself and set his glass aside. He raced as quickly as he could without running around the perimeter of the tent, his eyes set on the beautiful redhead who’d just set foot in his tent.

 

‹ Prev