Atticus (steele Protectors 2)

by Carole Mortimer

  “Hey, this is me, okay?” her friend chided softly. “You don’t need to hide how you feel about Atticus from me, how you’ve always felt about him.”

  Jenna stood up to restlessly pace the room for several minutes. “It’s been the weirdest day,” she finally admitted. “We had one of our usual arguments before he drove me to work this morning. I taunted him, he threatened me—”

  August frowned. “Atticus threatened you?”

  She gave a rueful smile. “I thought with a smacked arse.”

  August looked taken aback. “Oh?”

  “Only it turned out he was actually going to turn off the internet in the evenings, not spank me at all, so I—”

  “Back up a couple of steps,” August interrupted. “Start from the beginning.”

  Jenna did exactly that, relieved to have August to talk to about her confusing day. The two women had been friends since they went to university and then shared an apartment for several years. August was the closest thing to a sister Jenna had.

  As close as the Steele brothers were to being her brothers.

  Except Jenna had never thought of Atticus in that way.

  She was even less likely to do so after this evening…

  “Wow. That’s…” August seemed lost for words. “I don’t know what to say,” she finally admitted.

  Jenna gave a rueful smile. “How do you think I feel?”

  “Logan was pretty annoyed with Atticus when they left just now.”

  She eyed her friend teasingly. “You could tell that just from a look?” She hadn’t missed the glance the engaged couple had exchanged when Logan kissed August before leaving.

  August snorted. “Logan and I know each other pretty well by now. He doesn’t like to admit it, but behind the tough-guy exterior, he can also be very sweet and romantic.” She gave a chuckle as she looked down at the solitaire diamond engagement ring on her finger. “I’ll never forget the way he presented this to me tied by a ribbon to a single red rose. He was stark naked at the time—”

  “TMI, August!”

  August chuckled. “I can’t tell you how much I wish I’d met your brothers, Logan especially, before all the problems a month ago. Damn.” She winced. “I shouldn’t have mentioned that. I’m so sorry.”

  Jenna gave her friend’s hand a squeeze. “Having the reporters still hanging around outside this building and the bank, and then this man accosting me today, proves it isn’t going to go away just because no one mentions it.”

  “So who is this man they have locked up at the Steele Protectors offices?”

  “No idea.” She shrugged. “I’d never seen him before today.” She frowned. “He didn’t exactly look like a thug either. More like a university professor—although not Professor Taylor, ’cause he was so hot, I could never concentrate in his class—”

  “You’re going off subject, Jenna,” her friend teased.

  She laughed for what felt like the first time today. God, it was good just to spend some time with August like the two of them used to when they shared an apartment. Before all this mess started and August met and fell in love with Logan and Jenna ended up living with Atticus for her own safety. Which she loved, of course, even if she also enjoyed making life difficult for him—

  Damn it, she was going off subject again.

  Jenna straightened. “Anyway, this man— I think his name is Jon Worthington. At least that’s the name the man who visited me at the bank in the morning gave to the receptionist. I told her to tell him to make an appointment. But then this man approached me as soon as I left work. He said he just wanted to talk to me, but he refused to back off when Ben told him to, and then Atticus got into it too, and you know how protective he can be.” She grimaced. “So—”

  “Did you say Jon Worthington?” August stood up slowly.

  “Well, I’m not a hundred percent sure it’s the same man from this morning—”

  “But he looked like a uni professor? Thin? Aged about fifty? Red hair tinged with gray?” August pressed. “About six feet tall?”

  “Yes…”

  August drew in a deep breath. “I know who he is!”

  “You do?”

  “Yes,” she groaned. “We need to call the Steele Protectors offices. Now. Before Atticus or one of the other brothers does something they’re all going to regret.”

  “If we all go in there, the guy is going to piss himself on the spot.” Atticus eyed his tall and heavily muscled brothers impatiently as they stood together in the room with the two-way mirror into the adjoining room where their prisoner was being held.

  Jon Worthington, if that really was his name—no one had bothered to ask him that yet—was sitting on one of the only two chairs in the room, handcuffed to the table in front of him. His face was very pale above the gag about his mouth, his eyes darting nervously about the room.

  One look at the five of them together, and the guy was likely to have a heart attack.

  Logan wore faded jeans and a white T-shirt.

  Logan’s twin, Rourke, looked as elegant as always in a three-piece suit and silk shirt and tie.

  Haydn wore ripped jeans and a black T-shirt with the Steele Protectors logo, an eagle in flight similar to the one tattooed on Atticus’s back, on it.

  Lucan was also dressed in a black T-shirt and jeans.

  Apart from Rourke, they all appeared completely badass, and Rourke’s elegant appearance was completely deceptive because he was as lethal as the rest of them. More so, on occasion.

  Atticus was the tallest by a couple of inches, but his brothers were all several inches over six feet tall. The guy they had locked up really would wet himself if they all trooped into the room together.

  “So how do you—” Logan broke off his question to look at his cell phone as it vibrated in his hand.

  “August calling again?” Atticus derided. “That’s three times in the last five minutes. And it isn’t a security issue; otherwise, we would have heard from Anthony.” He gave a shake of his head. “I’ve heard of being pussy-whipped, but this is fucking ridiculous.”

  Logan scowled at him. “We were supposed to be spending a quiet evening with Jenna discussing the wedding.”

  “And instead it was your choice to accompany me here, so turn off the fucking phone,” Atticus bit out impatiently.

  His brother’s nostrils flared. “This guy had better be worth my losing an evening with August.” He turned off his cell and slid it into his jeans pocket. “So how are we going to do this?”

  “We aren’t, because I’m going in alone,” Atticus snapped, shrugging when Lucan gave a disappointed sigh. “I did tell you I didn’t need any of you guys just to talk to a lone man who is probably well aware of the error of his ways by now.”

  “I’m coming in with you,” Rourke said quietly.

  “What—? No.” Atticus gave a firm shake of his head. “Two minutes alone with this guy, and I’ll even have his hidden bank account number in the Cayman Islands.”

  “But I’ll ask nicely, whereas with the mood you’re in, you’ll probably beat it out of him,” Rourke reasoned. “You only have to look at him to see he’s a white-collar worker. Just as he only has to look at you to think you’re some sort of thug. Like speaks to like.” He straightened his already perfectly aligned cuff beneath his tailored jacket.

  Lucan nodded. “Pretty boy has a point.”

  Atticus laced his fingers together before cracking the knuckle joints. He really wanted to hit something, and the man inside that room had dared to try to touch Jenna earlier. But was that reason enough to hit first and ask questions later? It wasn’t the way he had taught his brothers to interrogate a prisoner.

  “Fine.” He nodded tersely to Rourke. “I’ll let you do the talking, but if I don’t like the answers…”

  Rourke nodded. “They by all means, be my guest and do your worst.”

  Atticus gave a humorless grin. “Don’t worry, I will.”

  Chapter 6

  “Yo
u can’t do this,” the man protested as soon as Rourke removed his gag.

  Rourke looked completely unruffled as he leaned back against the table. “I’m pretty sure we already have.”

  “I have rights—”

  “Right now, in this room, you don’t,” Atticus bit out, and received a chiding glance from Rourke for his trouble.

  “Who are you people?” the man demanded to know. “All I wanted to do was talk to Miss Riley.”

  “Now you can talk to us instead,” Atticus invited silkily.

  “I have been locked in this room for hours, without water or bathroom facilities—”

  “Then the sooner you start talking, the quicker you can have both those things,” Rourke reasoned.

  The man gave a pained wince. “My name is Dr. Jon Worthington. I’m a partner in a general practice here in London. As I’ve said, repeatedly, I want to talk to Miss Riley about…about a private matter.”

  “Absolutely not,” Atticus snapped.

  “What is the nature of this…private matter?” Rourke spoke in a more reasonable tone.

  The doctor swallowed. “There was an…an incident a month ago, in which Miss Riley was injured.”

  “She was beaten to within an inch of her fucking life!” Atticus exploded.

  “Yes. Well.” The man’s gaze avoided meeting his. “I’m sure Edward didn’t expect it to be quite as serious as it was.”

  A haze of red passed in front of Atticus’s eyes, accompanied by a low growl reverberating in his chest. “And is Edward a friend of yours?”

  The older man looked uncomfortable. “After a fashion.”

  “The same Edward who paid two thugs to abduct and beat August Harvey but somehow managed to take Jenna Riley instead?” Atticus persisted.

  Worthington’s gaze moved nervously in his direction before he quickly looked away again. “Edward isn’t really like that. He…he was desperate, thought he was going to lose his art gallery.”

  “So fucking desperate, he paid two thugs to beat up an innocent woman to cover up the crime he was about to commit!” Atticus’s hands were clenched into fists at his sides.

  Worthington winced. “He was beaten up by them too the following day.”

  “That’s what happens when you decide not to pay the criminals you hired.”

  “That Edward did that was partly my fault— I didn’t have anything to do with the men he hired,” he instantly defended as Atticus took a step toward him. “I…Edward and I were…together for many years, and were joint owners of the art gallery, although I had no involvement in the day-to-day running of the place. When we separated six months ago, I needed my half share of the value of the gallery in order to be able to make a life for myself and buy somewhere to live. I had no idea things were so financially dire for Edward he would consider stealing a painting from one of his own clients, let alone go to such lengths to ensure he wasn’t suspected of the crime.”

  “Why do you want to talk to Jenna Riley?” Rourke prompted before Atticus could speak.

  “I thought I might be able to persuade her into believing Edward isn’t really a criminal.”

  “Persuade her how?” Atticus frowned.

  “By talking to her. Only talking to her,” the doctor insisted after a brief glance at Atticus’s thunderous expression. “Edward is… He’s really a gentle soul, and…and being in prison is slowly killing him. He’s lost so much weight already, and if the court decides he has to stay in prison for any length of time, I’m afraid of what his reaction might be.”

  Atticus had met the slightly effeminate and rotund art gallery owner responsible for the attack on Jenna a month ago, and he could well believe that Jervis was suffering while he languished in prison waiting to go to trial. Although he had no idea why Worthington thought accosting Jenna with the intention of pleading with her on his ex-lover’s behalf was in any way acceptable.

  “You still have feelings for the man,” Rourke stated evenly.

  The older man’s eyes became moist. “We were together for twenty years. Just because our relationship is over isn’t reason enough to want to watch him suffer in this way.”

  “We all had to watch Jenna suffer, and she’s still suffering after being beaten by the men your gentle soul Edward paid to attack her,” Atticus said harshly.

  “I’m so sorry,” the doctor choked. “I wouldn’t have bothered Miss Riley, but I don’t know what else to do,” he appealed. “I just know if Edward goes to prison for any length of time—”

  “Which he will,” Atticus assured aggressively.

  “He won’t survive!”

  Atticus bent until his face was merely inches away from the older man’s. “Strangely enough, I don’t give a fuck.”

  Worthington drew in a shaky breath. “You and Miss Riley are…?”

  “None of your fucking business!”

  “Related,” Rourke answered at the same time as Atticus bit out his own reply.

  The doctor’s shoulders slumped in defeat. “So what happens now?”

  Rourke shrugged. “We can either let you go—”

  “Or carry on questioning you until we’re convinced you didn’t have any involvement in the attack on Jenna,” Atticus stated firmly over the top of Rourke, not inclined to release this fucker until he had every bit of relevant information out of him.

  The door was flung open, and Jenna walked into the room, August hot on her heels. “You’re going to let him go.”

  Atticus turned to face her. “What the hell…? Don’t any of you have control of these women?” He shot a belligerent glare to where he knew his brothers were standing in the adjoining room observing them through the two-way mirror.

  “I’m so sorry about this, Jon.” August rushed to the doctor’s side, Logan two steps behind her. “Take off these handcuffs immediately.” She shot Rourke a furious glare. “Jon wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

  “He just said the same thing about his psychotic boyfriend,” Atticus snarled.

  “Ex-boyfriend,” August insisted, taking the key for the handcuffs from Rourke.

  “Atticus, no.” Jenna placed a restraining hand on his arm as he would have stepped forward to stop August unlocking the cuffs, something Logan took exception to as he moved to stand protectively in front of August. “August explained everything on the way over here. Dr. Worthington is just concerned and upset about his friend.”

  “Wow, concerned and upset,” Atticus taunted in caricature. “And what the fuck does he think we’ve all been since you were attacked?”

  Jenna’s expression softened. “I’m here, and I’m safe.”

  As far as Atticus was concerned, this whole thing was turning into a three-ring circus. Not only were four of his brothers present—and apparently doing fuck all to control this situation—but now Jenna and August were here too. With the door to the room open, Atticus could also see an uncomfortable-looking Anthony standing out in the hallway, obviously having accompanied the two women from Atticus’s apartment.

  “Maybe if you had let Logan answer his cell phone, we could have put an end to this sooner.” August gave Atticus a fierce glare. “I tried to call as soon as I realized who it was you were holding here.” She helped a shaky Jon Worthington to his feet.

  Atticus stepped forward. “I didn’t say he could leave.”

  “Back the fuck off,” Logan growled.

  “Atticus.” Jenna gave his arm a squeeze of encouragement when he didn’t heed that warning.

  He shook off her hold. “What the hell is wrong with all of you?” he bit out furiously as the rest of his brothers appeared in the hallway alongside Anthony. “This man has admitted to accosting Jenna with the intention of pleading with her on behalf of his ex-lover, the man who hired two thugs to abduct and torture her, and now you all intend to stand back and allow August to let him go free. Am I the only one who can see what’s wrong with that scenario?”

  “No, of course you aren’t,” Lucan sighed. “But that probably makes what happen
s next Jenna’s call.” He looked at her enquiringly.

  Jenna was torn between telling them to let Worthington go and upsetting Atticus, which he certainly would be if she advised they release the older man.

  But what had Jon Worthington really done to deserve being half terrified out of his life by being kept a prisoner of the Steele brothers, Atticus in particular?

  August had explained on the way over here exactly who Jon Worthington was and the reason she suspected he had been trying to speak to Jenna. The man cared enough about his ex-lover to seek her out and plead on Edward Jervis’s behalf.

  The police had arrested and charged the gallery owner for instigating her abduction and torture, with the added charge of his intent to rob a client. Quite how Jenna was supposed to be of any help with his dilemma, she had no idea.

  But she couldn’t find it in her heart to hurt Jon Worthington any more than he already was, as he feared for what might happen to his ex-lover in prison.

  Jenna had been terrified when she was abducted, suffered immeasurable pain when she was viciously beaten, had feared for her very life for all of the three days she was held captive. But, as she had told Atticus just now, she was still here, and she was safe. He had ensured that. She didn’t have a single doubt he would always ensure that.

  As she knew he would be angry with her for what she was about to do now, but would forgive her. Eventually.

  She lifted her chin. “Let him go.”

  “Oh for the love of…!” Atticus’s glare included everyone in the room before he turn on his heel and strode out into the hallway, his brothers parting like the Red Sea to facilitate his departure.

  “Atticus—”

  “Don’t.” Lucan was the one to stop Jenna as she would have followed Atticus. “I’ll go after him.” He gave a half smile. “I have no problem with him verbally ripping me to shreds, but he might say some things to you he will ultimately regret.”

  Tears blurred Jenna’s vision before falling hotly down her cheeks. “Tell him I’m sorry.”