In the Crossfire

by L. P. Dover

  I stopped at the car and turned around. “Yes. She’s Anthony’s daughter, and she’s in Wyoming with me right now.”

  His eyes widened. “Are you fucking kidding me? Why the hell would you bring her here? Where is she?”

  I nodded toward the road. “About three miles south of here. I rented a cabin for a couple of days before we fly out to California. She knows what I do, but she doesn’t know who I am. I’m ready to get back to work.”

  Ian scoffed. “That’s great and all, but I think you’re making a huge fucking mistake. Where does she think you are?”

  My gaze wandered over to the barn. “I told her I’d find her a horse. I just bought a farm in Norwich, and she’s living with me.” The way he stared at me was as if he didn’t even recognize me anymore. Being gone for the past year had changed me, and I wouldn’t take it back. I wasn’t about to apologize for any of it.

  “Do you love her?” he asked, saying the words as if it disgusted him. He didn’t know shit about Layla or who she really was.

  My jaw clenched. “She’s not like her family.”

  “That’s not what I asked.”

  “Yes,” I snapped, glaring over at him. “I love her. At first, I was using her to get to her father, but…things changed.”

  “And you think she’ll still love you when you kill her father? What about when she finds out who you really are?” Silence filled the air. When I didn’t answer, he ran both hands through his hair, eyes wild. “You don’t want to do it, do you?”

  I did more than anything, but I didn’t want to lose Layla. “It’s complicated,” I answered, saying the first thing that came to mind. “I’ve lived this life for over a year now.”

  He threw his hands up in the air. “Do I need to go up there and kill the bastard?”

  “No,” I growled, body tense. “I don’t want you anywhere near New York.”

  “Then get it handled, Bryce. Your family misses you. Your real family. Don’t forget who we are, who you are.”

  Sighing, I opened my car door. “Things change, brother. I know who I am, and who I want to be. Sometimes we don’t always get what we want.” A sad expression passed across his face, and he nodded in understanding. The last thing I wanted was to leave on bad terms. I held out my hand, and instead of shaking it, he pulled me in for a hug.

  “It’s too late to say don’t do anything stupid. Just know I’m here for you. I love you, brother.”

  “I love you too,” I said, slapping a hand on his back. When I let him go, I looked out at the mountains. “I miss it here. When I saw the news about Grace, I had to find a reason to see you. I’m glad she’s okay.”

  I met his gaze, and he nodded. “Me too.”

  “Tell Reed I stopped by, and that I’m sorry I couldn’t stick around.” I hopped in the car and rolled the window down. I could tell he didn’t want me to go.

  “What are you going to tell your girlfriend when you show up without a horse?”

  “I won’t be without one,” I replied sadly. “I need you to arrange for Charger to get shipped to New York.” I had a feeling that was what he’d want.

  Ian nodded as if he already had a feeling that was what I was going to say. “Okay. I’ll get it done. You have my word.”

  “Thanks, brother.” I turned the car around and waved as I drove past him. I didn’t know when or if I was ever going to see him again, but I was glad to know he was happy. He deserved it.

  Once I made it back to the cabin, Layla walked out, dressed in a skintight black dress with her blonde hair perfectly straight down her back. She waved as I got out of the car, her smile bright. “What was the surprise? You’ve had me wondering this whole time.”

  I walked up to her and pulled out my phone to show her the picture of Charger. “I got you something. His name’s Charger.”

  When she saw the picture, she gasped and flung her arms around my neck. “Oh my God, he’s gorgeous. Thank you.”

  “I knew you’d like him. He’ll be good to you.”

  I held her tight, and she kissed me. “You are too good for me. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  I didn’t know what I’d do without her, and I prayed I never had to find out.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Layla

  TWO WEEKS LATER

  It was much warmer in New York, being that it was the first week of June, so Bryce and I worked on getting our pool opened up. We’d grilled some hamburgers out on the back deck, and now it was time for a nighttime swim. The sky had started to go dark, but the tiki torches around the pool gave off the perfect light.

  “Do you want another glass of wine?” Bryce shouted from the deck.

  Floating around on my pink raft, I couldn’t see him, so I paddled around until I could. I was already a little tipsy from the four previous glasses. “I’m good,” I said, waving my hand in the air. He disappeared inside, and I closed my eyes, enjoying the sound of the water and the crickets chirping. It was peaceful, and reminded me of our time in Wyoming. I was ready to go back.

  Bryce took me to dozens of trails in the Grand Teton National Park, and we toured all of Yellowstone in just the few days we were there. I never got to officially meet Charger, but he was set to arrive in another week. I couldn’t wait to ride him.

  The sounds around me lulled me into a trance, but that was quickly squashed when a loud splash came from behind. I jerked awake, and shrieked as I sat up. My float bobbled in the water, but I couldn’t see through the darkness, at least not until a set of arms came up underneath my raft and toppled me over. I sucked in a breath before going under, and I could hear Bryce’s muffled laugh.

  I shot up out of the water, and smacked him on the arm. “You’re such an ass,” I said, pushing the wet hair off my face.

  Bryce grabbed me around the waist, and pushed me against the pool wall. “Had to wake you up somehow. You might’ve slipped off your float and drowned if I hadn’t.”

  Wrapping my legs around him, I pursed my lips. “I wasn’t sleeping, I was thinking.”

  He didn’t look like he believed me. “What were you thinking about?”

  I shrugged. “Wyoming, mostly. It was a such a great trip, probably the best one I’ve ever been on.”

  His lips tilted slightly. “Glad to hear it. It’s a wonderful place.”

  “I could tell. You seemed to be happier there. More so than you are here.”

  His smile faded. “It has nothing to do with you, Layla. I promise. Being there just reminds me of another time.” He pushed his body into mine. “I’m actually quite happy where I’m at.”

  It only took one second to realize he had no swimming trunks on. I wrapped my legs around his waist. “I like where you’re at too,” I purred.

  Holding onto me, he moved us toward the shallow end to where the water came up to my shoulders. He backed me up against the pool wall and held onto the edge before lowering his lips to mine. They were so soft and firm. Willingly, I opened for him, and he pushed his tongue inside with demand, like he needed me…I loved it.

  “I love being able to feel you like this,” he groaned, pushing inside of me.

  My whole body tingled. “So do I.”

  He gripped my waist with his strong hands and lifted me off his length, turning me around toward the pool wall. I gasped with how quick he moved me, my heart thumping wildly in my chest when he lowered his lips to my ear, biting down.

  “You’re going to want to hold onto the edge, Lemon Drop.”

  Instantly, my insides tightened in anticipation, and my nipples grew more sensitive. I held onto the edge of the pool as he snaked his arms around me, pushing his rigid cock between my legs and pinching my nipples between his fingers. I squeezed my legs around him, and he used my breasts to pull me up and down, his length sliding along my slit. I could feel my orgasm beginning to build, and the moment my body clenched down, Bryce changed angles and slammed his cock inside of me.

  I bit my lip to keep from crying out as he r
ode me hard, rubbing his thumb achingly fast across my clit. The water sloshed around us, and I was losing my hold on the edge of the pool, but Bryce’s grip held me firmly in place. His thrusts went deeper and deeper, until it was too much to bear.

  “Fuck,” Bryce grunted. “You’re so damn tight.”

  Hearing him say that was my undoing; it was too late to hold back. The harder he pushed, the harder I came, trembling all around him. My orgasm went on and on, getting stronger the second Bryce dug his fingers into my hips and yelled out, cock pulsing as he came inside of me.

  Breathing hard and jerking with aftershocks, Bryce kissed the back of my neck and rested his head against mine. “I love you,” he murmured in my ear.

  “I love you, too.”

  It was the perfect ending to a perfect night.

  *

  My body felt like Jell-O after our tryst in the pool, followed by a steamy second round in the shower. I crawled in bed and turned on the TV while Bryce made sure everything was locked downstairs. I already knew they were, but he liked to double check.

  When he walked in and saw what I turned on, he shook his head, not shocked in the least. “Game of Thrones again?”

  I patted the mattress. “Hell yeah. You still have two more seasons to binge watch with me.” He got in bed, and I snuggled up against his chest, draping my right leg over his. “Besides, I know you like the show just as I much as I do.”

  Chuckling, he traced his fingers along my back and rested his left hand on top of mine on his chest. I stared at the tattoos that covered his left arm and realized that I’d never paid that much attention to them. I knew on his right arm he had a skeleton with other various designs that reminded me of something medieval, but on his left, there was a sword and scales with a snake wrapped around the hilt. It wasn’t very noticeable, but there was a date tattooed onto the blade of the sword.

  I slid my fingers up his arm and traced the date. “What does that mean?” I asked, murmuring the words.

  His body tensed, and it caught me off guard. I sat up and stared down at him, hoping I didn’t open an old wound. What I found wasn’t sadness or pain in those blue eyes of his, but something else…almost like he didn’t want me to know.

  Bryce sat up, and looked down at his arm, intentionally keeping his eyes off of mine. “I don’t think I can tell you. Not yet.”

  “One day?” I asked, drawing his attention back to me. “Do you not trust me?”

  With a heavy sigh, he pulled me onto his lap. “I trust you, Layla. There are just some things you don’t know about me. Things that, if you did, I don’t know if you’d be here with me right now.”

  I cupped his cheeks and kissed him. “Nothing is going to change my mind about you. I’m here, right now. If I had my way, I’d stay with you for the rest of my life.”

  His eyes flashed with surprise, and he gripped my hips with his strong grasp. “You sure about that?”

  “Almost certain,” I replied, grinning slyly. By the look on his face, it was as if a huge weight had been lifted off his chest. I wanted to know what he was hiding, but I didn’t want to push him.

  “When the time comes for you to know everything, if you still want to be with me, I’d be happy to marry you, Layla. I don’t want to be with anyone else. Only you.”

  Tears sprung to my eyes, but the moment was cut short when his phone buzzed with an alert. I’d never heard it before, but it only meant one thing. Someone was on our property. Bryce jumped out of bed and threw on the pair of jeans and T-shirt he had on earlier.

  “What is it?” I asked, heart racing. I hurried over to my dresser and grabbed the first thing I could find, which happened to be a pair of black gym shorts and one of my college T-shirts. I ran over to Bryce’s side and watched him access the cameras that were all over our house. One by one, each feed blipped out and disconnected right before our very eyes, but not before we saw a man dressed in black in one of them. Someone was at our house, and undoubtedly, they were not alone. “Oh my God. What are we going to do?”

  Bryce opened up his nightstand and pulled out two of his guns, making sure both had full magazine clips. “We are not going to do anything. Stay here and lock the door.”

  “Like hell I am,” I hissed low. “I’m coming with you.” I grabbed my own gun out of the nightstand on my side of the bed and glared at him, daring him to tell me otherwise. “I’m not afraid. I can do this.”

  His jaw clenched, and he huffed. “Fine. Stay close. If anything happens to me, you run.”

  He turned off the TV, blanketing the bedroom in darkness. Gun in hand, I followed closely behind him out into the hall. “If anything happens to you,” I whispered, “I’m killing every fucker responsible.”

  Shaking his head, he glanced quickly back at me. “So damn hardheaded.”

  The only problem with our cameras not working was not knowing where the danger was coming from. There was no sound, no breaking of glass, or any hint of anyone breaking in. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t terrified. All the lights were off downstairs, making it feel even more ominous. Then again, it helped for anyone outside not to be able to locate us through the windows.

  We made it down the stairs, and I slid across the floor to behind the couch. Bryce stood against the wall and looked around. From where he was, he could see the front door in the living room, and the door in the kitchen that led to the garage. The only one we couldn’t see was the one that led to the back porch.

  Bryce looked ready to kill, his features hard and dangerous. It sent shivers down my spine. He held a gun in each hand as he scanned the living room. “Stay there,” he growled, voice barely discernible.

  Before he could step away, a knock sounded on the door. Eyes wide, I froze behind the couch. I looked over at Bryce and shrugged. “What the hell is this?”

  His jaw clenched. “Could be a trap.”

  Another knock. And then another. With each rap at the door, it made my blood run cold. But nothing could prepare me for what I heard next. “Layla, open up,” a voice called out. My heart stopped, and the breath left my lungs. Was I imagining things or did I just hear…

  Bryce slid across the floor and faced me. “Who the fuck is that?”

  I couldn’t even get the words out of my mouth. Another knock thundered against the door, and a man’s voice I didn’t recognize called out Bryce’s name.

  “Bryce, it’s me. Open the door.”

  Bryce was just as shocked as I was. He slid one of his guns into the back of his jeans, and helped me up. My heart raced so fast I thought it was going to explode out of my chest. I wanted to open the door, but I was afraid it was my mind playing tricks on me.

  Bryce stepped forward and pulled me behind him. “Stay behind me, Layla. I don’t know what the fuck’s going on.”

  Gun in hand, Bryce walked over to the door, and I held my breath. As soon as he opened it, and I saw the one man I thought I’d never see again on the other side, I burst into tears. Standing there, with a smile on his face, was my Uncle Michael, dressed in a dark gray suit and looking exactly the same, with his ash-colored hair and green eyes. He was a Corsino, but he didn’t have the Corsino signature look, nor did he act like the other men in my family. Maybe that was why I favored him over everyone else.

  “Hey, Ladybug.”

  “I thought you were dead,” I cried.

  His smile saddened, and he shook his head. “It’s a long story.” He opened his arms, and I jumped into them, loving the familiar scent of his cologne. “I need you and Bryce to come with us,” he said.

  I stepped away from him, narrowing my eyes as I glanced at both him and the other man. The other man was in a suit as well, with gray hair and a regal build. He had haunted brown eyes, as if he’d seen and been through a lot, but they were also kind. I didn’t recognize him from any of the other mafia families. “Why?” I asked.

  Huffing, Bryce crossed his arms over his broad chest. “I’d like to know the same goddamn thing. What the fuck are you doin
g here?” he spat at the gray-haired man.

  The other man sighed. “Like Michael said, it’s a long story, which I’m hoping to have explained tonight.” He held a hand out to me. “By the way, I’m Peter Johnson, a friend of the family. If you feel more comfortable following us in your own car, that’s fine too.”

  I squeezed Bryce’s hand, and he looked down at me. There was so much anger on his face, and it made me wonder what his connection to Johnson was. “I don’t know what’s going on, but I think we should go.”

  He nodded, but I could tell he was reluctant. His grip on my hand tightened as he stared at my uncle and Peter. “Let’s go.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Layla

  There were so many questions, but I didn’t know where to start. Bryce refused to ride with Michael and Peter, so we followed behind them. His grip on the steering wheel was so tight, I thought the leather would rip apart.

  “I can’t believe Michael’s alive,” I said, still not believing it. “I don’t understand.” My father, including Bryce, had seen his decapitated body. I looked over at Bryce for his input, but all he did was stare at the road. Ever since he saw Peter Johnson, he’d been acting strange. I had a nagging feeling that he was hiding something from me. “Who’s this Peter Johnson?” I asked. “He obviously knows you, and by the way you reacted, I know you know him.”

  His grip tightened harder on the wheel. “We work together,” he said. “But I had no clue your uncle was still alive.”

  “Work together? Is Peter a vigilante killer too?”

  Bryce’s jaw clenched. “Was. He doesn’t do it anymore.”

  It wasn’t long before we turned down a long driveway toward a large colonial-style mansion that had to have been built in the early 1900s. It was beautiful and timeless, but it also made things even more strange. A part of me thought we’d be taken to an old warehouse. We parked in the circular driveway behind the gray Chrysler 300 my uncle and Peter were in.

  I started to get out, but Bryce grabbed my wrist. “Wait.”