The Savior: COLTER (Cover Six Security Book 6)

by Lisa B. Kamps

  "I'm going to kill the fucker."

  Chapter Thirteen

  Hands closed around his throat, squeezing with enough force to crush his larynx and snap his vertebrae.

  "What did you do to Allison? Where the fuck is my sister?"

  Colter brought his hands up between the locked arms then back down, breaking the grip on his throat. While the move allowed him to breathe, it didn't stop Boomer's attack. He shoved Colter back against the wall, knocking over the small table in the entranceway. Drywall caved under Colter's shoulder and a print crashed to the ground, glass shattering. Colter bent forward, rammed his head into Boomer's chest and pushed with his legs, sending the other man into the opposite wall. Another print crashed to the floor, the sound lost in Boomer's roar.

  "Where is she?"

  A fist connected with Colter's jaw, sent him staggering back with the force. Boomer swung again and Colter ducked, lashed out with his foot and caught Boomer's ankle. He jerked his foot back and Boomer stumbled, grabbed Colter's arm and used him for balance before he took another swing. The fist caught him in the side, landing on top of the cut he'd received the other night. Colter ground his teeth against the discomfort and fisted both hands in Boomer's shirt, ready to send the other man flying out the door.

  Another set of hands grabbed him, pulling him away. Colter swung, ready to fight off the unknown assailant.

  "Easy, man." Ox stepped around him, placing himself between Colter and Boomer. "Both of you need to knock it the fuck off."

  Boomer tried to lunge around him, his face a mask of fury. "I want to know what the hell you did to my sister!"

  "He didn't do anything to me, you ass." Allison's irritated voice rang out in the sudden silence. Colter turned, swallowed back an oath when he saw her standing at the bottom of the stairs. Her hair was tousled from sleep and her feet were bare.

  And she was wearing nothing but one of Colter's t-shirts.

  "You son-of-a—"

  Ox grabbed Boomer and dragged him away before he could lunge at Colter again. "Enough! You need to calm your shit down."

  "I'm going to fucking kill him."

  "No, you're not." Ox shoved him into the living room. "You're going to sit your ass down on the sofa and behave like a good little boy while we get to the bottom of this clusterfuck."

  "I'm not—"

  "Yeah, you are. And you—" Ox spun toward Colter and pointed. "You're going to shut the door and come over here and join us."

  Colter clenched his jaw, hesitated for a split second then reached over and slammed the door shut. The loud noise echoed through the still room, adding another layer of tension to the stifling air. Colter made his way to the living room, his attention focused solely on Boomer in case the other man made a sudden move.

  "Allison, go put some clothes on. You're leaving with me."

  "I have clothes on. And I'm not going anywhere with you."

  "Dammit, Allison, I told you—"

  "Al, go upstairs and change."

  "But—"

  "Please."

  Her mouth snapped closed and her head tilted to the side as she studied Colter. He expected her to argue—the mutinous expression on her face told him she wanted to—but she remained silent. She glared at her brother then turned and stormed up the stairs. The sound of a slamming door drifted down a few seconds later.

  Colter turned back to Boomer and Ox, watching them as closely as they were watching him. There was the faintest hint of amusement on Ox's face, an expression he didn't bother to hide. Boomer, on the other hand, looked like he was ready to kill someone. There was no doubt in Colter's mind that he was that someone.

  "What are you two doing here?"

  "I came to find out what the fuck you did to my sister."

  "I didn't do anything to her."

  "Yeah? Then what the hell happened last night?"

  Colter opened his mouth to answer. Closed it without saying a word. His gaze slid from Boomer to Ox and back again but he couldn't read either man's face. Even the wave of fury Boomer had been riding just moments earlier was suddenly muted and carefully hidden. They obviously knew something had happened. Did they know exactly what? And how had they found out?

  Colter turned toward Ox, figuring he'd get a straighter answer from him than he would Boomer. "Are you going to tell me what's going on?"

  Ox shrugged, false amusement flashing in his eyes. "Got a feeling that Boomer here was hoping you'd tell him that exact thing. The intel we got was a little light on details."

  "What intel?"

  "Not much. Just something about his sister's car being shot up and your truck leaving the scene. Like I said, a little light on the details."

  Colter bit back an oath then ran one hand down his face. "Fuck."

  "You better hope the fuck you haven't."

  He ignored Boomer's low growl and turned back to Ox. "Where did the information come from?"

  "Where else? The almighty Zeus. No idea where he got it from but you know Zeus—his connections are many. And all anonymous."

  Zeus. Of course. Colter shouldn't be surprised. If he had stopped to think about it last night, he would have realized that word would somehow get back to Daryl Anderson. Only he hadn't given it much thought—he'd been too preoccupied with taking care of Allison, and dealing with his own unexpected reaction to what had happened. Not just the shooting and how bad it had shaken him, but the bombshell she had dropped on him later.

  He ran both hands over his face and released a long breath. No way in hell was he going to share that information with Boomer. Colter was having a hard enough time dealing with it. If Boomer had come here looking for blood after hearing about the shooting, learning what was behind it would send him into a murderous rage. Colter had no problem with Boomer going after whoever was responsible—provided the man got in line after him—but he sure as hell didn't want Boomer coming after him. One altercation was enough.

  Colter frowned as a murky detail cleared in his mind. He turned back to Ox. "Wait. How did you know I was there?"

  "I told you: your truck was seen leaving the scene. And since your truck is parked out front, it obviously wasn't stolen so the logical conclusion is that you were driving."

  "But how do you know my truck was there?"

  "Because somebody saw you, that's why."

  "But there was nobody else there." At least, nobody on the street. It was possible someone might have looked out a window but would they have actually given that information to the police?

  Maybe.

  Doubtfully.

  Fuck.

  Colter hurried to the bottom of the stairs. "Al, get down here. Now. We're leaving."

  The two men had immediately picked up on his tension. They were both on their feet, alert and wary, eyes watching him as he moved to the closet and grabbed his go-bag from the back.

  "Start talking, Ninja."

  Colter didn't bother glancing over his shoulder as he grabbed extra clips and ammunition and added them to his bag. "Your sister was targeted last night. There was nobody else on the street except Allison, me—and the shooters. And while it's possible someone else might have seen something, and maybe even remotely possible that they would have helpfully passed that information on to the police, I doubt it."

  "Fuck."

  Boomer's low growl summed up the entire situation. Colter didn't believe for one second that some good Samaritan had given information to the police. Not in that neighborhood. Good Samaritans quickly became dead for helping the police—and the only other people who could have seen his truck were the people in the car that had been doing the shooting. He had no idea how the police would have gotten his tag number—if Zeus's information had even come from the police. Colter had no idea what kind of contacts Zeus had and now wasn't the time to question it. As far as he was concerned, he was looking at three immediate options.

  One: he was completely overreacting over nothing.

  Two: the police had run his tag number and were al
ready on their way here. Maybe they thought he was directly involved somehow—and yeah, he was—or maybe they just thought he was another witness. Neither option was a good one, not right now.

  And three: someone else was already tracking him down. Someone who had watched him leave with Allison. Someone who was after Allison and now knew where to find her.

  He hoped like hell it was option one but he had to prepare for option three—especially knowing that Allison had somehow entangled herself with a sex trafficking ring.

  Colter moved to the stairs again, stepped back when Allison came to a stop on the bottom step. She looked around the room, her face paling when her gaze rested on the weapon drawn and ready in her brother's hand. Trembling fingers closed over Colter's arm and she leaned toward him, seeking reassurance. He wanted to pull her into his arms, give her that reassurance, tell her that everything was going to be okay—but now wasn't the time.

  "Colter?"

  "We need to leave." He released her hand and turned to Ox. "Where are you parked?"

  "Down at the corner."

  Colter swore. His truck was right out front, it would be easier to reach it. But if anyone was looking for it—no, that was a risk he couldn't take. If it was just him, yes. But it wasn't.

  "You and Boomer go to your truck. Go up the street and turn right at the corner. We'll meet you at the top of the alley."

  "No way in hell, Ninja. I'm going with Allison."

  "You can't. If anyone's watching..." He didn't finish. Boomer's expression told him he didn't need to. If anyone was watching, they'd be expecting the same two men who had walked in to walk out.

  Boomer swore then tucked his weapon back into his shoulder holster. He stopped in front of Colter, his eyes blazing with anger—and worry. "Don't you dare let anything happen to her."

  "I won't."

  "Colter? What's going on? I don't understand."

  "I'll explain later." He turned back to Allison, grabbed her hand and led her to the back door that opened onto the alley. Instead of going with him, she pulled against him, tugging her hand free.

  "Tell me what's going on."

  "Allison—"

  "No. Tell me."

  He reached out, cupped her chin with his hand and looked into her eyes. "Do you trust me?"

  "Yes." There was no hesitation in her answer, only certainty. He offered her a smile, just a brief one, then grabbed her hand once more.

  "I'll explain everything later. Right now, we need to get ready to go." He looked out the window, glanced up and down the alley, searching for anything that didn't belong. "We're just going to walk up the alley. Stay beside me. And if I say run, you run. No questions."

  "But—"

  "No questions." He caught her gaze, held it until she finally nodded. Then he opened the door and ushered her down the short flight of steps—

  And hoped he wasn't leading her into another trap.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Allison entered the apartment then stopped and looked around, surprise filling her. She had no idea what she'd been expecting but it wasn't something quite so...normal. This place was exactly what Colter had said it was: a regular apartment.

  Sofa and loveseat. Coffee table and lamps. A few prints on the wall. From where she stood, she could see the small dining area and the kitchen opening off the hall. It was just a regular apartment, maybe a little bigger than most though she didn't really have anything to compare it to except her own tiny place. For the last ten years, she had lived in a lot of places but none of them could be called normal. This place looked about as normal as you could get.

  And it looked nothing like what she had imagined when Colter said he was taking her to a safe house.

  Maybe she had misunderstood and he'd said a safe place instead of a safe house. She hadn't been paying attention, had been thrown completely off-guard from the moment she'd heard the commotion at Colter's place and gone downstairs to find her brother and some other man she didn't know there. Everything else had happened so fast, she was still trying to make sense of it—especially when she was still dealing with what had happened last night.

  Someone jostled her from behind and she stepped out of the way, turned and watched as the three men pushed in behind her. Colter. Ryder. The man they had both called Ox. She had no idea why they called him that because he didn't look like an ox. He was almost as tall as Colter and her brother but he didn't have the same bulk, or even that same threatening presence the other two men had.

  But what did she know? She hadn't thought Colter had a threatening presence when she first met him. Hadn't realized exactly how threatening he could be until seeing him last night. Had she really been that blind last year on the island? Or had he just been that good at hiding that side of himself?

  Maybe both.

  Her gaze drifted to him now, seeing details she had never noticed before. The serious set of his jaw. The cold awareness in his dark eyes. The strength of his capable hands. The way he moved, with a fluid stealth and sharp alertness, like he was ready to spring into action at any second.

  How had she missed that before? How could she have been so completely unaware of this side of him? She knew what he did—had known even before, back on the island. Maybe not everything but she'd had a vague idea, only because she had a vague idea of what her brother did. At least, she thought she had. Watching them both now, she questioned everything she thought she knew.

  And if she had been so wrong about something so basic, what else was she wrong about?

  Her gaze shifted to Ryder, to the angry set of his shoulders and the ticking muscle in his jaw. How much did she really know about her brother and what he did? He'd been in the Army, doing something dangerous and macho, she knew that much. And now he worked for some private security something-or-other, doing more of the same. That was why she had called him last year and asked for his help. Maybe she had exaggerated a bit at first, but in the end Ryder—and Colter—had literally saved the day.

  Not that she'd ever tell him that.

  Ryder looked at her now, brown eyes so much like her own boring into her. Anger and irritation flashed in their depths, a combination that stirred identical reactions inside her. She stepped closer and narrowed her eyes.

  "What?"

  "I was going to ask you the same thing."

  "What's that supposed to mean?"

  "Just what I said." Ryder stepped closer, trying to intimidate her with his size. She refrained from rolling her eyes—just barely.

  "I still don't understand why Hannah married you."

  "Maybe if you bothered to keep in touch with her, she'd explain it. So much for that lifelong friendship, huh?"

  Allison jerked back, the quietly spoken words hurting her more than if he'd slapped her. "That's not fair."

  "Isn't it? What's not fair is you turning your back on your best friend while you hop around the country, playing your games."

  "I'm not playing games."

  "Yeah, Allison, you are. That's all you ever do. Only your games keep getting you in trouble and I have to come bail you out. When the hell are you going to grow up?"

  Anger flared inside her and she stepped forward, jammed a finger in the middle of Ryder's chest. "This isn't a game and I didn't ask for your help. I didn't even want you to know I was here!"

  "Excuse the piss out of me for trying to find you when I thought you were fucking dead!"

  Allison dropped her hand and stepped back, the harsh words chilling her. "What?"

  "You heard me." Several emotions flashed in his eyes, there and gone before Allison could make sense of any of them. She looked over at Colter, saw him standing a few feet away with the other man's hand wrapped around his arm, holding him in place.

  She looked back at Ryder, finally noticed the dangerous tension rolling off him in suffocating waves. "Why would you think I was dead?"

  "Because your fucking car was found shot up. What the hell else was I going to think?"

  "But—" The rest o
f her words were lost in a muffle against Ryder's chest as he pulled her into his arms. She stood frozen for several seconds, the hug so out of character for her brother that she didn't know how to react. Then she wrapped her arms around his waist and held on as tears burned her eyes. All of the uncertainty, all of the fear, rushed back to the surface. She clung to him, wishing for a brief second that they were little kids again and that her big brother would swoop in and slay the monsters hiding in her closet.

  But they weren't little kids—and this time, the monsters were real.

  "Allison, what the hell have you gotten yourself into this time?"

  She stepped back, wiped her cheek against her shoulder as she tried to figure out what to tell him. Not just him, but Colter as well. She'd only explained a little last night, had avoided the many questions she knew he wanted to ask.

  She looked over at Colter again, saw the curiosity in his gaze. The silent encouragement and strength he was willing her. She wanted to go to him, to feel his arms wrap around her and hear his warm voice in her ear, telling her everything was going to be okay. But it wouldn't be okay because she'd messed things up—again—and she didn't know how to make them right.

  And when Colter heard the whole story, he'd want nothing more to do with her. Why would he, when she could barely stand herself at times? But it was time to tell him the truth—

  And time to face the consequences of what she'd done.

  Chapter Fifteen

  She moved over to the sofa, shrugged out of her jacket and tossed it over to the side. She didn't bother to see if any of the men followed her—part of her hoped they wouldn't. It would be easier to tell the story without them sitting across from her, watching her.

  Judging her.

  She sat down, her hands clasped tightly in her lap, her gaze focused at her feet. But she wasn't looking at her shoes, or even at the thick carpet. In her mind, she was back on the island, working in the kitchen with Hannah.

  They were cleaning up after dinner, another bland affair of overcooked fish and a soggy combination of rice and vegetables. Allison couldn't blame the state of the meal on Hannah this time because she had been the one to cook tonight—except she'd been distracted, more than usual.