by Sybil Bartel
Before I could make an escape, Talon was between me and the door, urging me into the reading chair by the window.
I panicked.
“No, no, no.” I stepped back, and my legs hit the bed. “I’m good. I don’t need you to touch anything. I’m good with my staples.” My head started to pound. “Really, no thank you, I’m good. I don’t, um, I don’t need—” I stumbled and my ass hit the bed.
“Genevieve,” Sawyer warned.
Talon spared Sawyer a brief glance before squatting next to me. His eyes on me, he spoke to Sawyer. “Playboy, give us a minute.”
“No,” Sawyer immediately responded.
Still squatting, Talon threw Sawyer a look. “Not a request, Marine.”
His gaze on me, Sawyer’s chest rose and fell. Then he abruptly turned and walked out.
Talon looked back at me and smiled casually. “You okay?”
His scent, like coconuts and beach, drifted around me. “I’m fine.”
His expression sobered. “You don’t look fine.”
I smoothed a lock of my hair, bringing it over my shoulder and twisting it. “I mean, I, um, I’ve had better days. But it was only a little bump on the head and I’m okay.”
“A grade two concussion and six staples ain’t a little bump, darlin’, and that’s not what I’m talkin’ ’bout. You okay bein’ here with Playboy, or do you need me to get you out of here? Because I’m lookin’ at a packed bag, a scared woman, and a pissed-off Marine, and I’m feelin’ tension that’s thicker ’an mud.”
Everything hit me all at once.
The carjacking, my head getting split open, being in the penthouse of Sawyer Savatier, my purse gone, gang members knowing where I lived, my business in the toilet, another muscled, dominant ex-military alpha in front of me, Sawyer telling me he couldn’t have a married woman in his home, divorce papers I should’ve signed a year ago, embarrassment, guilt, loneliness—all of it heaped into an impossible mountain of insurmountable despair, and I couldn’t breathe.
I wanted out.
Far away, out.
“I need to leave,” I whispered, both hating myself for saying it and feeling relieved.
Talon, a man I’d met mere seconds ago, didn’t hesitate. “Say no more.” Grasping my arm, rising to his full height, he tossed his plier-looking things into his kit. Nodding at my suitcase, he asked, “You got everythin’ you need?”
Tears welled. “Mm-hmm.”
Sparing me a glance, he dipped his head toward me and lowered his voice. “I’m not expectin’ Savatier to cause a problem, but just the same, I’m gonna grab my kit and your bag, and we’re gonna head straight for the door. Keep your head down and let me worry ’bout Playboy, okay?”
A tear slipped loose. I nodded.
In the exact same gesture as Sawyer had done, Talon swiped my cheek with his thumb. “Hold those tears ’til we’re outta here. Then you can let loose, darlin’. You with me?”
Biting my lip, I nodded.
“Good girl,” Talon murmured without any affection before slamming my suitcase shut and shouldering his black bag. Zipping my suitcase, then picking it up, his free hand landed on the small of my back. “Here we go.”
Oozing frenetic energy like he was itching for a fight, Talon led me out of the bedroom and down the hall, aiming us toward the front door.
Standing in the living room, looking out at the night sky, Sawyer turned.
Anger hit his face so fast that I had to drop my gaze.
“Talerco,” Sawyer barked. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Keep walkin’,” Talon whispered to me before raising his voice. “Respectin’ the lady’s wishes, Savatier.” Dropping his hand from my back, he stepped in front of me and opened the front door. “Elevator, darlin’.”
“Talerco.” Sawyer came at us.
“Elevator,” Talon repeated, gently pushing me forward as he stepped between me and Sawyer. “Done deal,” he warned Sawyer.
“Genevieve!” Sawyer yelled.
My heart crushing in on itself as if I were walking away from a lover, I frantically hit the elevator call button as tears slid down my face.
“Stand down.” Talon’s hand landed on Sawyer’s chest. “You and I both know I’ll take you. Don’t make me do it, Playboy.”
Sawyer looked at me, and for a split second the closely guarded expression of stone he always wore slipped. Disbelief and something close to pain or hurt flashed for a second before it was gone and anger twisted his features. He glared at Talon. “She has the Tres Angulos after her,” he ground out. “You walk her out of here, you risk her life.”
“Nothin’ I haven’t dealt with before,” Talon clipped.
The elevator dinged and the doors slid open.
Talon threw me a command over his shoulder. “Get in the elevator, darlin’.” He dropped his hand from Sawyer’s chest and backed up a foot. “I’ll call you.”
Sawyer’s nostrils flared and his jaw locked. “You’re risking her life,” he bit out, punctuating every word.
“I’m savin’ her dignity.” Talon walked backward toward the elevator.
“Talerco,” Sawyer warned one last time.
Talon stepped inside the elevator and hit the button for the garage. “I’ll keep her alive.”
The doors slid shut.
FURY, RAW AND AIMED AT Talerco, consumed me.
I pulled out my cell and dialed.
Luna answered on the first ring. “Luna.”
“Talerco took her,” I bit out.
“Hold.” Shuffling sounded, then I heard a door open and close before Luna came back on the line. “Repeat,” he demanded.
Fuck, fuck, FUCK. “She wanted her staples out. I called Talerco. He shows up, and two seconds alone with her and he’s leading her out of my place, telling me to stand the fuck down.”
“Jesucristo,” Luna muttered. “What’d you do to her?”
“I didn’t do a goddamn thing!” I yelled, snatching my keys.
“All right, all right, amigo, calm down. Where’s Talerco taking her?”
“I don’t fucking know.” And that was the problem. “Who’s on shift? They need to follow Talerco.”
“Ty. I’m texting him now. Talerco aware of the situation?”
Goddamn it. Trigger happy and remorseless Ty. I headed out the door. “I told Talerco, but he brushed it off, saying it was nothing he hadn’t dealt with before.”
“It’s not,” Luna reassured.
I jammed my fist against the elevator call button. “I don’t need an endorsement of his fucking skills, Luna. He took her.”
Luna exhaled. “Okay, listen up, brother, because I’m only gonna say this once.”
I ground my teeth and refrained from telling him to fuck off.
Luna took my silence for consent. “Talerco’s a lot of things, but overreactive isn’t one of them. He also isn’t baselessly impulsive when it comes to something like this.” He paused, then he dumped the rest of his bullshit speech. “He wouldn’t have removed her from the situation unless she asked for it. Brother to brother, you know I’m right.”
I slammed my fist into the wall.
“Sawyer,” Luna snapped.
“What?” I ground out.
“Do what you gotta do to calm the fuck down, then head to the office. I’m calling Talerco, and I’ll have him bring her here. You, me, and Talerco will hash it out in a conference room once she’s secure in one of the client apartments. Comprende?”
I didn’t say shit. I hung up and got on the elevator.
I drove my Range Rover like it was a Maserati all the way to the office, scanning every fucking intersection as I went, looking for them. I pulled into the garage at Luna and Associates twelve minutes later.
Talerco’s black Challenger was nowhere in sight.
Anger-fueled adrenaline pounding in my veins, I skipped the elevator and took the stairs up to the third floor where the conference rooms were. I knew something was wrong the second
I looked through the glass wall of the largest conference room and saw Preston, Tank, Collins and Tyler all standing around Luna and his laptop.
I shoved through the door, my glare on Luna. “What the fuck are they doing here?”
Tyler, the prick, smiled. “Damn, he swore.” He looked around at the rest of the guys with an expression of fake shock. “Was that just me, or did you all hear that?” His smile amped up. “Does this mean it’s love?”
“Women.” Collins shook his head. “Fucking trouble is what that is.”
Crossing his arms, Tank threw Collins a look. “Shut the fuck up.” Tank nodded toward Luna. “You need to see what he has.”
Luna spun his laptop to face me and hit play on a security image feed. “They caught them coming out of your garage.”
I watched Talerco’s Challenger pull out of the garage, and before the black company Escalade parked across the street could fall in behind them, a tinted-out gray van gunned it out of a construction lot across the street, cut off the SUV and got on Talerco’s six. The Challenger shot forward, obviously seeing the tail, and in the last second of the video, I saw Talon take a corner, turning in the opposite direction of Luna and Associates.
I surpassed anger. “Where the hell is he going?” I asked Luna. “Get him on the phone, now.”
Luna didn’t answer. He typed on his laptop and another image appeared. This time the familiar software program of the tracking system he used to monitor all the company vehicles came up. “This was from a couple minutes ago.”
I watched the red blip of Ty’s SUV parked on my street. Then the red dot shot down the street in front of my condo, took the same corner as Talerco’s Challenger, then nothing. It disappeared from the screen.
I looked from the screen to Luna. “What the hell just happened?”
Luna held my gaze. “We lost GPS monitoring, and both Talon’s and Ty’s cell phones are going straight to voice mail.”
What the fuck? “What does that mean?” I asked, but I already knew.
“Signal jammer,” Luna confirmed. Turning back to his laptop, he pulled up a map of the city. “The question is, where would Talon head to?”
“No,” I bit out, my anger ramping up to a new level. “The question is why the hell didn’t he come here?” He knew there was security here around the clock. At any given time, there were at least three Luna and Associates men on duty. We were all ex-military, and we were all trained.
Breaking his silence, Preston pushed off the wall. “You’re both wrong. The real question is what gangbangers are doing with a jammer. They typically don’t mess with anything like that. The cartel doesn’t even use them.” His gaze shifted around the room, never landing on any one of us, before he stared at the carpet. “You sure it was just a carjacking?”
I spun on him and did something I never fucking did with the guys. I lost my temper. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Exactly what I asked.” His hands on his hips, never looking at me, Preston shrugged. “What do we really know about this chick?”
Tyler smirked. “You do know who his dad is, right? If anyone’s a target, it’s Playboy.”
I glared at Tyler. “They don’t know who I am. They were going for the vehicle, period.”
“How many cars were in the lot that night?” Tank asked offhandedly.
“Too many,” Collins answered. “It was Mel’s after the clubs closed. They would’ve had their pick. The place is packed after hours.”
“But they chose Sawyer’s SUV,” Tyler added skeptically.
“Enough,” Luna cut in. “It’s a company SUV, and speculation isn’t gonna help us find Talerco and the chica right now.” Spinning his laptop to face all of us, he stood. “We need to split up and find them. We don’t know how many are in that van, and while I’d bet on Talerco any day of the week, numbers are numbers. He and Ty could be grossly outnumbered and outgunned.” Pointing to the screen, he assigned grids. “Since we’re all gonna be subject to the jammer, we’re traveling in teams. Tank and Preston, take the south end of the city. Collins and Tyler, take the northern quadrant. Sawyer and I will head west.”
“West doesn’t make sense,” I argued. “The city grid dwindles, and there’ll be too many opportunities for the van to shoot at them. Talerco would be an idiot to go west.”
“Disagree,” Luna clipped. “West will be less populated, which means less collateral damage. It’s what I’d do. Talerco isn’t stupid, and he isn’t gonna fire warning shots.” He eyed me. “He’s gonna shoot to kill.”
“So will Ty,” Preston added.
Ignoring Preston, Luna glanced at his watch. “Gear up with the assumption you’ll be on your own. Take enough ammo to hold off a small army. You all know the gangs travel in packs.” He looked up, glancing at each of us. “Stay on comms, do your grid searches, call in your locations to base every ten minutes. Report any potential sightings ASAP so we can track via traffic cams if we lose you, assuming those don’t get jammed too. Meet back here by oh-one-hundred.” He paused. “If you lose comms, cell and GPS, use your best judgment. I don’t want to put our families in danger or suspend client activity to fight a gang war, but we will if we have to. Your best defense is to stay invisible until you need to be seen. Remember that. Any questions?”
“Yeah.” Preston crossed his arms. “Is one chick worth a gang war? Because that’s where this is heading.”
My nostrils flared.
His eyes on Preston, Luna’s hand shot out and landed on my chest. “I’m gonna humor that question only once, and only because you’re new, so listen up.” He dropped his hand from my chest and held up one finger. “One. We protect our own. This isn’t a client. This is personal to one of our brothers. Even if it wasn’t, we’d still be heading out, doing exactly what we’re gonna do.” He held up a second finger. “Two. This isn’t about a single chica. We’ve got two of our brothers out there. We’re going after them because we don’t fucking leave anyone behind. Ever. You want out? Fine. No judgment. But stand down now so we can get on with it.”
“Throw me under the bus for being the new guy here all you want.” Preston shrugged as if not offended. “But if you think gangbangers will let it go, your head’s in the sand.”
Luna’s voice dropped to a lethal warning. “Underestimate me again, and it’ll be your last move as my employee.”
Preston didn’t back down. “If stating the truth gets me walking papers, so be it.”
Silence fell over the room as the tension ramped up, and for a split second I thought I was going to witness a bloodbath.
Then Tank stepped up to Preston. “Shut the fuck up and grab your gear. I don’t have time for this shit. Let’s go.” He shoved past Preston, throwing the door to the conference room open.
For a heartbeat, Preston didn’t follow. He stood staring at the fucking carpet.
Then Tank bellowed from the hall. “Now, Preston!”
He walked out.
Tyler smirked. “Crazy and an attitude.” Shaking his head, he glanced at Luna as he walked toward the door. “Good fucking luck with that one.”
Collins eyed Luna. “New guy’s right.” He glanced at me before walking out.
I looked at Luna.
“Jesu-fucking-cristo,” he muttered on an exhale.
I glanced after Preston. “He’s going to be a problem.”
Luna looked at me. “What do you mean, going to be?” Unholstering his 9mm, he dropped the magazine, checked the clip, then slammed it back into place. “He already is.”
“You shouldn’t have hired him.”
“You think the streets of Miami are safer with him roaming loose?”
I didn’t say shit.
“Right fucking answer,” Luna clipped. “Let’s go.”
ONE HAND HOLDING HIS CELL phone, his eyes darting between the rearview mirror and the road, Talon took a corner going double the speed limit before glancing at his phone again. “Goddamn it.”
My heart in my thro
at, one hand gripping the handlebar above my window, the other holding on to my seat belt, I forced a response out. “What?”
Talon frowned as he glanced at the side mirror. “No signal.”
Oh God. “But we’re in the middle of downtown.”
He didn’t respond. Straddling the lane marker, he gunned it as he wove between two cars.
Dread threatened to choke me. “How is that possible?” Downtown Miami was not a cell phone dead spot.
Talon tipped his chin at the GPS display on the dashboard. The map, not moving, was static. “No GPS either.”
I swallowed past the brick in my throat. “How is that possible?”
“Signal jammer.” Cutting across two lanes, he took a turn at the last moment.
I dared a glance behind us. “What’s that?”
“Nothin’ legal.”
The same gray van that had been following us ever since it had screeched out of a parking lot across the street from Sawyer’s condo made the same turn. Right after the van, a black Escalade also made the turn. “They’re still there.”
“On it.” He took another last-minute turn. “We’re gonna have a little fun. You ready?”
I didn’t have time to respond.
Talon gunned his Challenger, and the engine roared as he turned down a one-way street going the wrong direction.
A delivery truck slammed on his brakes and veered.
“Watch out!” I screamed.
Horns blared and tires screeched as Talon expertly whipped the car around the truck and gunned it down the breakdown lane, barely avoiding more cars behind the truck. “Nothin’ doin’, nothin’ doin’,” he murmured cutting across two lanes when there was a break in oncoming cars.
My heart slamming into my ribs, I fought for a breath. “That wasn’t nothing,” I accused.
Half his mouth tipped up. “If the stakes ain’t high, you ain’t livin’.” Jumping a curb, he spun the Challenger and braked at the same time. The car slid to a stop on the side of the road, and Talon turned in his seat, looking behind us.
My hand went to my chest. “I think I prefer no stakes.” My life included.
His half smile amped up into a grin. “Lost ’em.” He spun the car around and got back on the surface streets, thankfully going the right direction in the right lane.