Breaking Her Rules

by Katie Reus

  He looked at his watch again. Five minutes to go. Decision made, Zac sprinted back the way he’d come, sticking to the shadows. Once he reached the building he’d kept Christiansen’s wife captive in, he slipped inside through an open window space. Then he texted Christiansen the correct address for the meeting place using a throw-away phone he’d purchased an hour ago. He’d originally given Christiansen the wrong address, but had made sure it was in the same vicinity. Zac hadn’t wanted him trying to assemble a team of his security to infiltrate where he was keeping Iris. Now all he had to do was wait for Christiansen to show up.

  Once Zac got the money he deserved, he was the only one leaving the meeting alive.

  * * * * *

  Wyatt read off the text with the changed address for Vincent and Harrison Caldwell, who were hiding in the back of his SUV. They’d all known the original address he’d been given wasn’t the meeting place. Iris’s kidnapper wouldn’t have given them two hours to get there. Still, Harrison had sent someone to scout it out and sure enough, the abandoned building had been empty of all life.

  At first Wyatt had been surprised that Caldwell had decided to come on this job personally, but he’d have done the same thing in Harrison’s position. Iris was one of his people.

  Right now she was the only thing that mattered to Wyatt.

  “I’m letting the other team know to stay back and move in when we give the go-ahead.” Vincent’s voice was muffled from where he and Harrison lay covered two seats behind him.

  Wyatt knew this was a trap. It had to be. That was why he wasn’t going in alone and why Harrison had insisted on another security team to back them up. Four other men were in an SUV a few blocks behind them. They would remain at a static location until Harrison gave them the signal to move in.

  Since they hadn’t been able to get any good video feed with Iris’s kidnapper’s face at the hospital, they still weren’t sure who they were after. And her captor hadn’t been lying. He’d disposed of her phone immediately, making it impossible to trace him without knowing who he was first. Zac Thorton was their biggest suspect so one of Red Stone’s analysts had tracked his phone, but it had been traced to his penthouse suite in downtown Miami. That didn’t mean he wasn’t behind this, but at this point, it could be anyone. Wyatt didn’t give a shit who it was, he just wanted Iris safe and in his arms.

  As he steered down the street with no street lights and abandoned apartment buildings, it was like pulling onto the set of a horror movie. Everything was spray painted and windows were either missing or boarded up. This wasn’t like the Miami he’d seen so far. Even in the daylight he imagined this place was a desolate hole. “I’m pulling down the street. If the GPS is right, we’ve got exactly half a mile to go.”

  “Slow down,” Harrison ordered.

  He was only going ten miles an hour, but he slowed to just under five. There was a soft clicking sound as the back hatch opened, but it closed so quickly he couldn’t believe they’d both managed to exit. “Guys?”

  No answer.

  Okay, then, it was just him now. Depending on others for backup was hard to do when Iris’s life was on the line. But he had no choice. Now…fuck, he just had to pray Harrison and Vincent managed to infiltrate the building and take out Iris’s captor before the guy killed him or Iris.

  As Wyatt pulled up to the address he’d been given, his phone buzzed again. Another text. Get out, open all the doors to your SUV then walk through the front door. Bring the money. Leave phone behind, no electronics on you or the bitch is dead.

  Then Wyatt received another text with a picture of Iris laying on a mattress, clothed and sleeping. The picture didn’t mean anything though, it could have been taken earlier. He wanted to demand proof of life and if he didn’t have Red Stone backing him, he would have. As it was, he just wanted to get this guy into the open so someone could take him out and he could save his wife.

  Grabbing his briefcase, he dropped the phone into the center console, then did as the text ordered. He opened all the doors—to show he was alone—then headed up the cracked stone steps leading to the derelict structure.

  The man holding Iris could decide to just put a bullet through his head, but Wyatt doubted he’d do that outright. It was a calculated risk, but one he was willing to take for his wife. The man had asked for a ransom for a reason. He wanted this money and he wouldn’t take the chance that Wyatt showed up empty-handed.

  “I’m going in,” he murmured, barely moving his lips. The guy might have told him to leave his cell phone behind, but he wore an earpiece provided to him by Red Stone.

  As he reached what had once been a glass door, but was now just an open space with jagged glass edges around the frame, Vincent’s words stopped him cold. “Get out, Iris isn’t in there.”

  Relief slammed into him, but he couldn’t believe it. “Repeat,” he murmured.

  “The team just picked her up a couple blocks over. She escaped and a fucking drug dealer actually let her use his phone to call for help. She’s unharmed and says Zac Thorton took her. Harrison and I are moving in from the back. Get out of here now, we’ll take this guy down.”

  Iris was safe. That was all he needed to know. Now he could face off with that coward Thorton with nothing hanging over his head. The man had come after his wife, his only family, and made this very personal. With his Force Recon and weapons training, he knew he could take Thorton on. The guy was clearly smart, but he was just a fucking suit and he’d messed with the wrong guy. There was no way Wyatt was willing to risk this vendetta or whatever it was dragging on longer than tonight. He had to protect Iris. It was his right and he wouldn’t let anything stand in his way. “Negative. I’m going in.” But he wasn’t going in the front door.

  Vincent and Harrison both cursed, but Wyatt ignored them and dodged to the side of the doorway. It was too damn dark to see if anyone was waiting directly inside, but he wasn’t walking in now and making himself a target. Inching along the exterior wall, he crouched down as he half-crawled half-walked. Three windows over, he pulled out his pocket-sized flashlight and peered inside. Graffiti covered every wall and there were brownish stains on crumbling ceiling tiles, but it was otherwise empty.

  After dropping the briefcase inside, he hoisted himself over then pulled out his Colt .45. Unlike Iris’s favorite gun, his weapon wasn’t custom-made, but he went to the shooting range monthly and the Marines had taught him how to do many things well—including hit any target.

  His shoes were silent against the industrial carpet as he moved. Setting the case against a wall, Wyatt called on his former military training and swept out into the hall, weapon raised.

  Empty.

  It was as if he’d never left the Marines as he cleared the next three rooms down the long hallway.

  “Back four rooms, west side are clear,” Vincent said, his voice barely a whisper.

  “Back four, east side also clear.” This time it was Harrison.

  Wyatt quietly gave his status update but paused when he heard a slight shuffling sound somewhere in front of him. It came from one of the last three rooms he had to clear along this hallway.

  Ducking back into one of the rooms he’d just cleared, he grabbed a flat soccer ball with peeling green paint he’d seen, then cautiously stepped back into the hall. As he neared the next door he paused then hauled back and tossed the ball into the first room like a grenade.

  Shots went off, exploding into the quiet with brutal intensity as his decoy worked. Harrison was asking for a status update in his earpiece, but Wyatt ignored him. “The place is surrounded and I know you don’t have Iris anymore! Give yourself up, Thorton.”

  “Fuck you!” Another three rounds slammed through the plaster of the wall. As far as Wyatt knew, Thorton didn’t have any training, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t get off a lucky shot.

  Wyatt rolled to the ground and shot back through the wall in the direction the bullets had come from. Thorton cried out and Wyatt heard a thump, but he co
uldn’t be sure if he’d hit him. “Thorton? You have no leverage anymore and I don’t think you want to die. Come out and we’ll work this out.” Wyatt didn’t give a shit about working things out, but he wanted Thorton brought to justice. More importantly, he wanted to know if he had any partners, if Wyatt needed to be worried about anyone else coming after him or Iris.

  “Fuck you.” This time he sounded slurred, unsteady.

  “Why are you doing all this, Thorton? I knew your father and he was a good man.” Definitely not true, but Wyatt wanted to get his guard down. “Did Keibler drag you into this mess because of our history? Is that what’s going on?”

  Harrison informed Wyatt that he and Vincent were on their way, but Wyatt remained in position outside the door.

  At first he thought Thorton wouldn’t respond then he started laughing, the maniacal sound sending a shiver down Wyatt’s spine. “You’re so…fucking arrogant.” He coughed, the sound wet and gurgled, as if he was choking on his own blood. “Keibler knew…nothing. This was all me, you fucking thief. Think you can steal deals that belong…to me…” He trailed off into a hacking cough.

  Once he was silent Wyatt tried again. “You don’t sound so good. Why don’t you come out here and we’ll work things out?” And get the hell out of this place.

  Thorton started half-laughing, half-coughing. “Neither of us…are getting out of here.” The way he said it, so sure of himself made all the hair on the back of Wyatt’s neck stand up.

  Shit. “Vincent, Harrison, get the fuck out of here now. The place is rigged.” The two men uttered curses, but gave him an affirmative that they were moving out.

  He couldn’t be sure, but after the way Keibler had died, his gut told him to run. For all Wyatt knew this was a scare tactic, but he wouldn’t bet his life on it and more importantly, he wouldn’t bet anyone else’s on it either. He sprinted toward the nearest open door and dove through one of the windows. Pain pierced his upper arm as a piece of serrated glass caught him, but he ignored it as he rolled onto the hard ground. Shoving up, he ran toward the street, his legs and lungs straining as he pushed himself to haul ass.

  Once he’d cleared the street and was almost to the other building parallel to the one Thorton was in, he finally slowed and turned. “You guys clear?”

  “Yeah, you sure—”

  A fireball of orange and red ripped through the night air, lighting up the bleak surroundings like fireworks. For one moment everything was illuminated before debris rained down across the street. Thankfully Wyatt was far enough away out of the blast range. Something slammed into the windshield of his SUV, setting the car alarm off, but he didn’t care as long as Thorton was dead. He didn’t even give a shit about his money that had just been incinerated in the explosion—it was insured anyway. He tucked his weapon into the back of his pants as he let a thread of relief slide through him.

  “Wyatt?” Harrison asked.

  “Yeah, I’m good. How about you guys?” he asked, looking around for them.

  “We’re good, look to your left.”

  When he did, he spotted both men crouched behind a dead tree stump one building over. As he started to head toward them, an SUV turned the corner, tires squealing as it raced down the street. It jerked to a sudden stop and before he could move, Iris jumped out and ran toward him.

  Wyatt didn’t remember moving, but seconds later Iris launched herself at him, wrapping her legs and arms around him in a tight embrace. His throat was so tight he couldn’t squeeze any words out. All he could do was hold her. Iris buried her face against his neck, her tears soaking him as shudders wracked her body. He hated that anything could make his strong, beautiful wife cry. “I love you,” he finally rasped out into her shoulder. “I should have told you sooner, but I do. More than anything.” If she didn’t return his feelings, he’d deal with it, but there was no way in hell he was going another second without telling her.

  She pulled back, her eyes red-rimmed and wet as a smile spread across her face. “I love you too.”

  A weight he hadn’t realized he’d been carrying—probably for his whole damn life—lifted at those words. No matter what the future held, he was going to spend the rest of his life showing Iris how much she meant to him. No holding back anymore.

  Chapter 16

  Two weeks later

  Already in a dark mood, Wyatt glared at the buttons of the elevator. As if that would make the thing go faster. He’d already put his master key in and was heading to the tenth floor of the fifty floor hotel, where his office at this particular hotel was. He’d been called down to the security room for bullshit reasons and now all he wanted to do was wrap up the rest of his paperwork and head back to Miami. After spending the last two weeks there he’d managed to do everything long-distance, but had been forced to come to Vegas yesterday because he’d needed to do some things in person.

  Like meet with the head of the construction team about to break ground on another hotel/casino. The Serafina was going to have six pools, elaborate gardens, imported Russian sculptures, and one of the most exclusive spas on the west coast. It had been one of his favorite projects for the past six months, but today he didn’t care about any of that. He simply wanted to get back to Iris.

  She’d been fine with him leaving last night. Too fine, in fact. After all that shit with Thorton had been figured out by the police—and his dead body forensically identified from the scene of the blast—the last two weeks he’d spent wrapped up with Iris. Mostly naked when he hadn’t been working. It had been pure heaven. She’d taken some time off work too, but she had a job coming up and hadn’t been able to come to Vegas with him while she prepared for it.

  Wyatt understood, but that didn’t mean he had to like it. He wanted Iris near him always. After what felt like an eternity, the cylindrical shaped elevator dinged and opened onto the correct floor that was exclusively employee offices. Ellie was waiting there as he stepped out.

  “It’s after seven, go home,” he practically barked, even though it was clear she was doing just that.

  She shook her head as she stepped into the waiting car, her heels clicking against the shiny tile. “One day without her and you’re a monster. It’s pathetic, boss.”

  Wyatt grunted a non-response as he headed through her anterior office to his own. She was right. He was pathetic. And he didn’t care. Deep down, he knew he wouldn’t be able to travel back and forth long-term. Which meant he’d definitely be selling some of his casinos. Probably the Serafina once it was finished. Unless of course Iris accepted the job he had to offer her—but he hadn’t figured out a way to broach the subject yet. She was more than qualified for it, but he wasn’t sure what her reaction would be. He didn’t want her to feel like he was pushing her into something.

  As he stepped into his office, he froze. Iris sat at his desk, the city illuminated behind her through his ceiling to floor windows. Even with the lights off, he could see her perfectly. Leaning back in his chair, she had her legs propped up on his desk and crossed at the ankles. And she was wearing four-inch fuck me heels and a skintight red dress that might as well have been painted on.

  Like Pavlov’s dog, his mouth watered at the sight of her. Yeah, he was pathetic. “How’d you get in here?” he blurted.

  She raised a dark eyebrow, but didn’t move from her spot where she was clearly comfortable all stretched out. All he could think about was taking her on his desk. “How do you think? Ellie. She managed to get me a last minute flight out here on your jet. I’m pretty sure she threatened the pilot with bodily harm if he informed you I was coming.”

  He leaned against the doorframe, enjoying the view of Iris looking relaxed and so very fuckable. “That woman deserves a raise,” he muttered.

  “I know.” Iris let her feet drop, then stood and walked around his desk only to lean against it, stretching those sexy, lean legs in front of her.

  For a moment, he forgot to breathe as he drank in the sight of her, all long limbs and…pure sex. That’s w
hat he thought of every time he saw her. Not that he was complaining that she was here, but… “I thought you had a job.”

  Her lips quirked up slightly. “I might have lied.”

  He pushed up from his leaning position and quickly closed the distance between them. She spread her legs so that he stood in between them as he grasped her hips. Her exotic scent wrapped around him, grounding him in the way only she could. “Why would you do that?”

  “I had some stuff to take care of without your interference. I…arrived this morning.”

  His fingers tightened on her hips. “You’ve been here all day?” he rasped out. He’d been missing her all day and she’d been in the same city?

  “Mm hmm. I officially put in my notice to Harrison and I’ve had half a dozen job offers out here. I’ve been interviewing all day.”

  “You quit your job?” He couldn’t hide his disbelief.

  “Yeah, but not to become Martha Stewart.”

  “I don’t want that.” He never had. And the idea of Iris as a domestic diva made him laugh. Yeah, he wanted her safe, but he knew there was no way he could protect her 24/7. That was impossible and to attempt otherwise would be insanity. Besides, Iris was pretty damn good at looking after herself. He frowned as another thought occurred to him. “Who’d you interview with?”

  As she listed off six names—two who were his biggest competitors—he growled. Which just made her laugh. “I haven’t taken any of them, but there are a lot of opportunities out here for me. More than in Miami.”

  “Hold that thought,” he murmured before stepping away from her and around his desk. He pulled out the file he’d been holding on to and handed it to her.