Mandy woke to loud voices coming from the living room. She’d tried to stay awake until Rocco returned from his mission, but she’d been too tired. She pulled her robe on over her pajamas and hurried out to see what had the men so excited.
As soon as she stepped into the hallway, she saw the guys standing in a tight circle and heard a familiar voice. The plumber’s daughter.
“Fee?” she asked, pushing her way into the ring of men.
“Mandy?”
Mandy reached out to hug her friend, who was ice cold. She glared up at Kelan. “You couldn’t have let her get dressed?”
“It wasn’t a social call, Mandy.”
She drew Fee to the sofa and wrapped her in the quilt before pulling her down to sit next her. “What’s going on? I didn’t know you were out of school already. Why are you here?”
Fee folded her legs in front of her on the cushion and glared at Kelan and Rocco. “They broke into Alan’s home and kidnapped me.”
Mandy gasped. She looked at Kelan’s shuttered face, then at Rocco for confirmation. He shrugged. “She was an unforeseen complication.”
Kit looked at the men gathered in the room. “I think you have some work to do downstairs,” Kit ordered. “Owen and I will chat with the girl.”
“I’m staying.” Kelan crossed his arms and planted his feet. “She’s my complication. I’m responsible for her.”
“True, that. And we’ll discuss it shortly. In the meantime, I need you to do as I asked and give me an update ASAP.”
Kelan didn’t move. “Rocco will get your update. I’m staying.”
“Why are these men in your house, Mandy? And don’t tell me they’ve come out for a vacation-I won’t for a minute believe it,” Fee asked.
“They’re friends of Kit’s. They’ve come to help me with the center. I’ve been having all sorts of problems.” Mandy said with a sigh, unsure how much she could or should tell Fee. “They have some questions for you. Please answer them as completely as you are able.”
Fee frowned. “I don’t know anything about what’s happening here. I just got back from school.”
Mandy nodded. “This isn’t only about the center.”
Fee looked at Kit and Owen. “My stepfather’s in trouble, isn’t he?”
“What makes you think he’s in trouble?” Owen asked.
“He was always a little off.” Fee got up and started pacing. “I’ve always wondered about him.” She looked at the men. “I never understood why my mother married him. She wasn’t in love with him, I don’t think. They didn’t even know each other. I was a senior in high school. She came home one day and said she’d found a way for me to go to college. They got married, and we moved up here. They seemed happy enough. And he did pay for my college. It was just odd, that’s all.”
Mandy watched as Fee moved around the room, gesturing with the blanket as she spoke. “And when my mother died, I really became suspicious. They said she ran off the road in a drunken stupor, that her blood alcohol level was higher than.14.”
“That’s good and drunk,” Kelan commented.
Fee glared at him. “She was a teetotaler. She never drank. Ever.”
“Was her death investigated?”
“No. I had a fight with Alan over it. He didn’t want me to raise any questions, or make any noise. I did anyway, but the sheriff couldn’t see beyond the coroner’s irrefutable conclusion that she’d been drinking. They had only been here a year by then. No one knew my mother very well. No one could vouch for the fact that it was exceptionally odd behavior from her.”
“Does your stepfather ever have unusual visitors? Is he a member of any associations or groups that you know of?” Kit asked.
“I don’t know about his professional organizations. I don’t think he belongs to any social groups. That’s another weird thing about him. He doesn’t have friends. He’s been in half of the houses in Wolf Creek Bend. Everyone knows him, yet he eats by himself at the diner most nights. He doesn’t socialize with anyone. Every now and then, he’ll go down to Denver unexpectedly. I usually work in his office in the summers. Several times I’d have to rearrange his schedule so that he could take a day off and drive down there.”
“Do you know where he went?” Owen asked.
“No. He never talked about it.”
“How would you describe his demeanor those days?”
“I don’t know. Edgy. When he got back, he’d take out his whiskey and finish off whatever he had left in the bottle.”
“Kit,” Mandy looked at her brother, “I don’t think she can go back. I think she should stay here.”
“Agreed,” Kit said. “Give her my room,” he offered.
Owen gave Mandy a dark look, clearly not pleased to have to deal with this complication. “Get her settled. Fiona-hold off calling Alan until we talk in the morning.”
She glared at Kelan. “I can’t call anyone. He’s got my cell phone.”
Owen nodded to Kelan. “Good. We’ll give it back to you in the morning.”
Rocco tossed Buchanan’s phone to Max, who immediately started digging into the plumber’s online accounts.
“Any problems-besides the obvious one upstairs?” Blade asked Rocco.
“None.”
“You look around while you were there?”
Rocco handed him the appointment book. “Seems at least once a month he clears out an entire day, as if he decides to take off without any forethought or planning. The bounced appointments all get rescheduled. No idea what that might mean, but it’s a pattern worth checking into.”
“Can you tell what he texted the night we came in, to whom, and how?” Blade asked Max.
“He’s got an email account, but there are no in-coming or out-going emails stored. He has no saved drafts, either. The only social networking app on here is Twitter. Last night, he sent a direct message to @A__akbar. No text, just a picture of our guys.”
“Who’s A Akbar? That short for ‘Allah Akbar’?” Rocco asked, remembering the crazed battle cry of Afghan insurgents.
“There’s no profile data for that account. I don’t know.”
“What was Akbar’s response?”
“No response. @A__akbar has never interacted with our plumber. He isn’t even following him. The next thing @A__akbar posted, barely an hour later, is, ‘Lovely evening to drink coffee in Denver. I’ve ordered a single espresso.’”
Blade and Rocco looked at each other. “Does he say something like that a lot?”
Max shook his head. “Can’t tell from this phone. A search shows nothing. He might have deleted his Tweets. Let me get into Twitter’s database to see what’s passed through his account.”
“I’ll a make copy of his appointment book,” Rocco said. “I want to return it and the phone before Buchanan wakes up.”
Kelan came downstairs after Fiona was settled. He handed her phone to Greer. “This is the girl’s phone. Best check it out before we give it back to her.”
The house was silent as Rocco made his way to Mandy’s bedroom later that night. He felt an unexpected rush of joy at the prospect of spending a few hours with his woman-sleeping and anything else that might happen while they were together. He stripped, then sent the dogs to their pillows. Slipping beneath the covers, he pulled Mandy to his side. This was the closest he’d been to heaven his entire life.
He eased her long T-shirt up, hoping not to rouse her too much. He liked her this way, warm and sleepy and soft, wanted to feel her skin against his. She shrugged out of the tee when he had it up about her arms and head, then snuggled back into his side. Rocco tossed it off the bed. He pulled her over his chest, then drew the covers around them. Slipping his hands under the blankets, he rubbed her back, her hips, her buttocks. She sighed and nuzzled her cheek against his chest.
He lifted his knees between her legs, nudging them apart as he rocked himself against her core. He captured her nipples, rubbed them, pinching just slightly. She sucked in a sharp draw of air as she responded viscerally to his touch.
“Shh. Don’t wake up. Don’t move,” he whispered. “I want you like this.” He pulled back and positioned himself at her opening, then slowly entered her, letting his cock stroke her feminine channel as his hands stroked her back. In and out. Up and down. Slowly.
“Rocco-”
He held her to him, keeping her from rising. He didn’t hurry this coupling. He wished it could last forever, leisurely and sweet. “We’ll go slowly.”
“Rocco-”
He could feel her body tightening, urging his to a faster pace. He took hold of her upper thighs, just below her bottom, keeping her still. “Not yet. Go back to sleep. I’m gonna fuck you for hours, so relax. Dream. Of me. Of this.”
He moved in her, his cock like hot iron. The restraint he imposed on himself strained his entire body. He could feel her passion heating up, rippling through her body. She cried out, her body tightening like a fist over him, pumping, grinding into him. She arched up and rode him hard. Rocco could feel his balls tightening, seizing. He gripped her hips, lifting and driving into her, over and over as he reached his own climax.
They both settled against the bed, still joined. It felt wonderful to have her warm, sated body on top of his. He tried to close his mind to the shadow stalking his euphoria, but it wouldn’t be silenced. One day soon, he would have to leave her. His arms tightened around her shoulders. He kissed her forehead. Leaving her was going to tear a piece out of his soul.
Mandy was hard at work in the kitchen the next morning when Fee came in. “What are you doing up so early?” she asked.
Fee shrugged. “I wait tables during the school year. I figured you could use an extra hand.”
“Well, I certainly could. There are only nine men, but I swear they eat like a whole battalion. Why don’t you get a cup of coffee, then I’ll have you make the biscuits.”
Fee paused beside the coffee pot. “Thanks for letting me stay here.” She looked over at Mandy. “After hearing that Alan is being investigated, I didn’t feel safe going back there.”
“I’m happy to help, Fee.”
Fee looked around them, checking the two kitchen entrances to be sure they were alone. “What do they think he did?”
“I don’t know exactly. I’m not sure they know, but I have no doubt they’ll figure it out.”
“So how long has your brother been with these guys?”
“Not long.” Mandy was gun-shy about answering questions. “He joined this private firm when he left the service.”
Fee looked down at her coffee, then back at Mandy. “This is really happening, isn’t it?”
Mandy squeezed her arm. “I’m afraid so.”
“Who hired them?”
“I don’t know. I’m just grateful that they are here.” She filled Fee in on the crazy things that had been happening with her construction site.
“Do they think Alan is behind that? I don’t know him that well, but it doesn’t seem like something he would do.”
“They are trying to follow the threads. That’s all.”
The next half-hour passed in a blur of preparations. Fee made the biscuits and cut up the fruit. She gathered a stack of plates and silverware. When she turned to take them out to the table, the big guy who’d kidnapped her stood there. Kelan, they’d called him last night. He looked to be of Native American descent and had to be at least a foot taller than her, about twice as wide, and whipcord lean. He’d carried her as if her hundred and ten pounds were nothing.
She felt the warmth of a blush creep up her face. “Morning,” she said, in as clipped a voice as she could muster.
He gave her a curt nod, then looked her over, his gaze clinical. “You slept well?”
“I did, thank you.” She stepped around him and carried her dishes out to the table.
Mandy saw Kelan turn and watch her. “She’s cute, isn’t she?”
“She’s an infant.” He poured himself a cup of coffee.
“She’s older than you think. She’s in college.”
He sipped his coffee, squinting from the heat as he watched Fee. His gaze shifted to Mandy. “That’s what I said.” He went to the dining room. “Want help with that?” he asked Fiona.
“Nope. I’ve got it covered.”
“Fiona, I’m sorry about last night. You must have been terrified.”
“I wasn’t scared. I had the Colt-which I want back, please. That was my grandfather’s gun.”
“You may not realize this, but guns are usually more effective loaded. You should have shot first and asked questions later. If we’d been the bad guys, you wouldn’t have stood a chance.”
Fee glared at Kelan. “That gun hasn’t been fired in a hundred years. I doubt it still works. And I didn’t realize what trouble Alan was in-I thought you were common burglars that I could bluff into getting out of the apartment. What about my phone?”
“Max has it. He’ll give it to you after breakfast.” He moved away, but Fee stopped him.
“Kelan?” He looked at her over his shoulder. “Thanks.”
He gave her a lopsided grin of brilliant, white teeth. His eyes crinkled, easing his stoic mask. He nodded. “I’m glad you’re here instead of with Buchanan.”
The other guys started to congregate as she and Mandy set food out. One of them introduced himself to her. He was even taller than Kelan. He had reddish-brown-blond hair, almost the color of a malt whiskey. It was longer on top and lay in waves of rich color. His eyes were the azure blue of a Caribbean shoreline. He had dimples when he smiled, which he did as he held out his hand to her.
“I’m Valentino Parker. Mandy says you’ll be staying with us awhile.”
She took his hand and felt it swallow hers. “Valentino? Seriously?”
“I know, right? I begged my mom to rename me Sue or Jodeen. Hell, I could even have pulled off a Rachel. But no, she had to be a romantic.”
“Well, you certainly fit your name.”
His smiled widened. It was electrifying. She realized she was still holding his hand. Their palms were becoming warm-all of her was warming up.
“Don’t talk to him,” Kelan said, interrupting her embarrassing stare.
Reluctantly, she pulled her hand away. “Why?”
“Because he’s bad news. He has about twelve concurrent relationships in flight at the moment, some of them even monogamous. You don’t want to be the thirteenth. And you won’t like his definition of monogamy.”
Fee looked over her shoulder at Valentino. He didn’t seem inclined to refute what Kelan said.
“He’s jealous,” Val explained with a shrug. “He can’t grasp that his frown is not his friend when it comes to women.”
“She’s not a woman. She’s a girl. Don’t talk to her.”
“Leave poor Fee alone, you two. She has enough stress in her life as it is.” Mandy interrupted them. “Kelan, why don’t you introduce the guys before we all sit down?”
A muscle bunched in his jaw. He looked like he was going to refuse, but took one glance at Owen and relented. He called out their names in quick succession. Val pulled out Fee’s chair for her, grinning at Kelan as he stood behind it.
The guys filled the dining room with noisy chatter while they loaded their plates. No one spoke about their plans for the day other than innocuous things like exercise rotations, which they planned to do in groups of two or three at various times during the day.
“Fiona, we’ll make the call to Buchanan after breakfast. We’ll do it downstairs. I want to record it,” Owen told her.
Fee pushed the fruit around on her plate, too nervous to eat after hearing that news. She was dreading that call. She didn’t know what Alan had gotten himself into, but it couldn’t be good if a team like this had come in to investigate him.
She looked up and noticed that Kelan was watching her poke at her food. She stabbed a strawberry and shoved it in her mouth, then followed it with a piece of biscuit. He continued to glare at her until her plate was empty.
After breakfast, the men ushered her to the stairs, half in front of her, half behind her. She felt like an enemy of the state being escorted to an interrogation. When she descended the last step, she moved into a different world. Two sofas had been pushed into the middle of the room and now sat back to back to make space for tables that, loaded with computers and equipment, surrounded most of the outer perimeter.
This was no simple investigative team. They had a war room here in Mandy’s basement. It was looking more and more as if these guys were a pseudo-military operation.
The man the others called Max hooked her phone up to the one of the computers, then gave it back to her and told her to dial Alan. “Keep it casual. You’re here to work for Mandy-simple change of plans, that’s all,” he coached her.
Fee looked around the room, nervous at having an audience. Her gaze stopped at Kelan, who stood the furthest away in the stance of a warrior, with legs braced and arms folded across his chest as he had done last night when Mandy’s brother and the one named Owen had questioned her. He met and held her gaze. For some reason, she took courage from his strength.
She dialed Alan.
“Fee? Where are you?” he answered the phone.
“Hi, Alan. I’m at Mandy’s.”
“What the hell are you doing there?” he asked.
She looked at Max. He was broadcasting their call to the room. He nodded at her and mouthed the word “Focus.” She pressed a finger to her other ear so that the echo wouldn’t distract her.
“I ran into her yesterday. She’s desperate for help up here. I hate to disappoint you, but I’ve decided to work for her this summer instead of at the shop. If you like, I can arrange for a temp to come in.”
“What I’d like is for you to get the hell out of there.”
“Why?”
There was a brief pause before he answered. “I want you to come home, goddamn it. Why do I have to explain myself?”
“I don’t understand. That’s all.”
“You know what? I made a promise to your mom and I’ve kept that promise.”
“You did, and I’m grateful for that.”
“Now you come home. Before it’s too late.”
“Why would it be too late, Alan? What’s happening?”
He sighed. “Just do what you’re told, or I wash my hands of you.”
“I’m going to stay here for a little while.”
“Then we’re through. We’re done. We are not family. You’re on your own.” Alan hung up.
Fee’s hand was shaking as she set the phone back on the table. She held no great fondness for Alan, but he’d kept his word to put her through college-a promise he’d honored even after her mother’s death. He was her very last connection to her mom. The room was deathly silent. She looked up at the men who watched her so solemnly. She would not cry, she told herself. Not in front of them, not in front of anyone.
Her glance moved to Kelan. He uncrossed his arms. More than anything, she wished she could go to him, have him hold her, hear him tell her everything would be okay.
But it wouldn’t. Not ever again. Alan was right. She was on her own. She walked across the room, her head up, her gaze on the stairs. She needed air, and lots of it.
Kelan broke the silence once the sound of Fee’s footsteps faded upstairs. “He’s up to something. Want me to go keep an eye on him?”
“Yes,” Owen said. “And, Max, I want to know about any out-going phone calls, emails, Tweets, or any other communication the bastard makes. Angel, there’s a connection between our plumber and Mr. Akbar. Find it. Get me some dirt on what they’re up to.”
A few hours after supper, the guys were fighting over a Nerf football and driving Max crazy. They’d been trolling their Internet sources, examining data, playing with different scenarios for the last fifteen hours.
When the football hit Max in the back of the head for the third time, he spun his chair around and winged it at Val. “Get out of here. All of you. Leave me in peace. You’re like a herd of buffalo down here.”
Val grinned at him. “Okay. You sure you don’t need us?”
“I need you to get outta my hair,” Max growled.
“I’ll keep him company,” Owen told the group. “If we discover anything interesting, I’ll phone you.”
The guys took the steps two at a time. “I’ll be D.D.,” Blade offered when they reached the living room. “Rocco, you comin’?” he asked.
“Not me.” Rocco grinned at Kit, who still hadn’t warmed to the fact that he and Mandy had a relationship. “I’ve got other plans for the evening.”
Kit glared at him but accepted Blade’s invite. “I’m in.”
“Where are you going?” Fee asked.
“Out,” Kelan said.
“Hey, can she go?” Val asked the group.
“Don’t think she’s legal,” Angel wondered aloud. “Unless they lowered the drinking age to, like, twelve?”
Fee made a face. “I’m twenty.” She was blushing.
Val watched the color rise on her skin. “Damn, she’s cute in pink. You sure she can’t come? Take a minute to make a fake I.D.”
Kelan stepped in front of her. “She’s not going. Guys night out,” he said to Val. When the last of the team had filed out the door, he faced Fee and bent close to her ear. “He’s right,” he whispered. “You are pretty in pink.”
Rocco led Mandy through the dining room and into the living. “We’re calling it a night, Fee. Max and Owen are downstairs if you need anything. Don’t leave the house. It isn’t safe yet.”
Fee glared at him. “I’m going to bed to read.” She started down the hall, mumbling as she went, “I’ve gone from a terrorist step-father to nine surrogate fathers.”
“Brothers,” Rocco corrected. “We’re not old enough to be your fathers.”
Mandy laughed. “We’ll be just down the hall, too, if you need something.”
“Right. But don’t need anything for a while, ‘kay?”
“Rocco! You embarrassed Fee,” Mandy scolded as he closed the bedroom door behind them.
“I’m not talking about Fee. I’m not thinking about anyone or anything that doesn’t involve you in my arms, right here, right now.” He took her hand and led her to the bathroom. Her favorite candles glowed by the sink and in the far corners of the tub, washing the room in a muted, flickering light.
Mandy looked at Rocco, her eyes tearing up. “When did you do this?”
He started to help her out of her clothes, unfastening her jeans so that she could step out of them. She was already barefoot. “While you were getting the dogs settled for the night.” He pulled her tank top over her head. She stood before him in only her bra and panties. Desire filled him with heat. He forced himself to keep his hunger under control as he popped her bra open. While she stepped out of her panties, he flipped on the water in the stall, letting it warm up. He shucked his clothes, then drew her into the shower stall.
The water was on the hot side of warm. He held her hand and pulled her into the shower. She dropped her head back and let the water stream through her hair. Blocking it from her face with her hands, she arched her back in a slow, delicious stretch that brought his gaze to all the sleek curves of her body. He stepped into the water in front of her. She looked at him through the sheeting water.
He took her hands and lowered them to her sides, twining his fingers with hers. She was so beautiful. He smiled at her, committing every second to memory. He leaned forward, looking at her through the water, letting it splash from her face to his as he kissed her. Her mouth opened to his. Water rushed in, and then his tongue. Softly stroking. He kissed her nose, between her brows.
He poured shampoo into his palm. She covered his palm with hers, rubbing it back and forth until he cupped lather. She took some and rubbed it into his hair. He did the same, drawing her long, copper mane up into the lather. It felt like he was creating her even as she made him, from suds and dreams. But she was real. Flesh and blood. And he was so goddamned blessed he could barely breathe.
They rinsed the shampoo from their hair, then he took up a bar of soap and started to wash her. She stopped him. She handed him a pink scrubby and poured a body wash on it. He lifted it to his nose. Jasmine. God, he would never in his life forget that scent. He rubbed her with the pink mesh ball, lathering every inch of her body.
He knelt to wash her feet. He leaned forward to kiss her belly, low, between her navel and her mound. He went lower still, pressing his face into her coppery curls. “Open for me, Em.” She rested a foot on his thigh. He licked her soft folds, rubbing his tongue over her clit. She gasped and grabbed his hair, holding him to her.
His fingers stroked where his tongue had just passed. When he slipped inside her, she cried out, frowning down at him with stormy, green eyes. He smiled up at her.
“Rocco, I’ll fall. I can’t do this.”
“Lean against the wall. I’ve got you.” He kissed her thigh, sucking on her skin as he worked his way back up to her core. He ran a hand up her thigh, over her hip and belly, to cup a breast. Mandy gripped his hand with hers. His tongue circled the swollen nub at the top of her core, then slipped along her folds as he entered her with a finger, two fingers. And then her body was writhing against his face, her channel tightening around his fingers. Fire shot along his cock as he imagined being joined with her for her orgasm.
When she grew still, he kissed her hip, her belly. He dipped his tongue into her navel, then licked along her ribs as he rose to her breasts. He kissed her collarbone, ran his tongue over the center of her throat, captured her chin between his teeth, and grinned at her.
Mandy laughed. He looked pleased with himself. His black eyes, so often sad or tormented, looked happy. She switched places with him.
“Your turn.” She pressed his hands against the tile wall, flattening his arms. “Don’t move.” She drew her hands down the muscles roping his arms. The dark hair of his chest and underarms streamed with water down his torso and abdomen. His penis stood upright from its nest of black hair, like turgid iron. His muscular thighs were spaced apart, bracing him against the wall.
“Kiss me,” he ordered, his eyes becoming hooded and intense. Mandy smiled. She leaned forward and kissed his pec, then his shoulder, then his other pec. “That’s not what I meant.” He breathed heavily through flared nostrils, his gaze held hers, his hands sticking to the wall as if shackled.
She stepped up on her tippy toes and kissed his neck, his jaw, slowly, working her way up to his mouth. He groaned as she pressed her lips to his. Mandy tilted her head, fitting her mouth against his. Her tongue did not penetrate his lips. She licked the circumference of his mouth. He growled, a low, rumbling sound when she reversed her direction and started kissing a long line down to his navel.
Water rained on her back as she knelt before him. She looked up to see the way desire tightened the features of his face. Without touching him, she flicked her tongue against the head of his penis. He spread his legs wider. She licked the sensitive underside of him.
“Do it,” he rasped. “Take me in your mouth. Now.” She turned slightly, mouthing only a portion of him, flicking her tongue back and forth over the engorged vein at the base of his cock.
“Jesus, Mandy. You’re going to fucking kill me. Take me now.”
She smiled and moved her mouth leisurely upward until she wrapped her lips around the crown. He groaned and thrust forward, pushing himself as deeply as she could take him. “Yeah, like that.” Every time he pulled out, her tongue caressed the hard length of him. He’d wanted this to go on forever. She sucked and stroked and pleasured him. She gripped his balls and gently massaged, even as she squeezed the base of his cock. He pushed into her mouth, feeling as if he was fucking her throat. His balls tightened, his only warning before semen shot like fire into her mouth.
He knelt before her as she lifted her face to the shower, rinsing her mouth with the streams of water that were growing cooler. He kissed her throat, her chin.
His eyes looked sad again. She touched his cheek. “What is it?”
“You’re looking at a man without a heart. It belongs to you now. Keep it or throw it away-do what you will with it. I can never take it back.”
She shook her head. “How is it that I feel as if I’ve known you my whole life, not just these past few weeks?” She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, buried her face in his neck. “I’ve been alone for so long. Most of my life.”
“But you’re not alone, now. You have my heart.” His arms tightened around her. “You give me a reason to live, to want to come back.”
She took hold of his face. “I’m counting on it.”
It was just before 11:00 p.m. when Ty parked in the side lot at Winchester’s. The place was packed. The band’s bass throbbed across the parking lot. Inside, the noise was almost deafening. It was odd, Ty thought, how disproportionate the number of men to women there were. The men were large and poorly groomed. Many had shaved heads. Some sported beards and moustaches. Most of them wore leather vests over wife-beaters, maximizing their display of ink. Not what he would have expected for a Western bar’s clientele.
Three women sat alone at one long table-two of them looked like Jersey Shore transplants complete with big hair, heavy make-up, and form-fitting clothes. The other few females in the place were on the dance floor or in crowded booths. Every table and booth was occupied, leaving nowhere for the group to sit together.
Val looked the situation over, spotted the table with the three women, then grinned at Ty. “Get me a Fat Tire. I’ll get us a table.”
Ty and Kit got their drinks first, then paused at a half-wall separating the bar from the booths, waiting for the others. Val was now sitting at the table with one of the women on his lap. Across from them was the other Jersey Shore princess. A third woman sat at the far end of the table, her nose buried in her phone. Wearing a T-shirt, jeans and hiking boots, she seemed an odd companion for the others. While Ty watched, she made short work of a guy who approached her. No one spoke to the other two women, which, given their come-fuck-me attire, surprised him.
Val waved them over.
“The guy’s a man-whore, but he got us a table,” Greer grumbled.
“You don’t hear me complaining,” Kelan commented, following him. They pushed their way through the crowd. Ty handed Val his beer, then sat between him and the hiker chick. Kit sat at the end near Ty, and the other guys filled in around the table. The brown-haired girl looked up at him. Her lips were compressed in a tight line. She offered no welcome but simply went back to her phone.
Ty leaned toward her. “If you don’t want to be here, why are you?” he asked, honestly curious about her answer. Again, she looked up at him. She wasn’t wearing any make-up. She didn’t need any. She looked like she’d come here right from a lengthy hike outside. What color would her smoky topaz eyes be in the sunlight? Her hair was wavy and looked unbearably soft. She was like a draft of fresh air someone had let into the thick, crowded room.
“I had no choice. They needed a D.D.”
Ty set his cane against the table and leaned back, absently rubbing his thigh. “Same here. I’m unstable enough as it is with this. Figured I didn’t need to be stumbling around in a drunken stupor.”
The girl’s smoky eyes studied his. “What happened?”
“War injury.”
She frowned at his thigh, lost to her thoughts. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“Why?”
“That you’re hurt.”
“Wasn’t your fault. You didn’t do this to me.” Ty wondered, as he said it, if he wouldn’t have voluntarily taken a bullet just so that he could sit here with this girl and have this conversation. He stuck out his hand. “Name’s Ty Bladen.”
Her eyes widened then narrowed. “Bladen?” She shook her head. “We got no further need to chat. No offense intended, Bladen.” She returned her focus to her phone.
Ty frowned. What was that about? He’d been gone for more than a decade. He’d done nothing to earn her frosty attitude. He could only think of one reason why she’d had that reaction. “Did you know my father?”
“No,” she said without looking up.
“Eddie! Get your nose out of your phone. We have visitors, honey,” the Jersey Shore girl cuddling with Greer leaned forward to call down the table. “Be nice to the man.”
Eddie flashed the woman a look, but stayed silent. “S’all good,” Ty spoke up, deflecting the woman’s attention. “The two D.D.s’ll just sit here and keep tabs on you guys.”
Ty sat silently for all of a minute before leaning over to Eddie and asking, “So-what’re you reading?”
The girl looked up at him with the hardest, ball-busting glare she could summon. “Listen, Bladen. This is how it’s going to go. You’re going sit in your chair and talk to your boys and leave me alone. Otherwise, someone’s going to get hurt.”
Ty couldn’t help but grin. God, she was hot. “Right. No talking.” He crossed his arms and slumped farther in his chair, his legs spread wide to ease the tension in his groin that his interest in the girl had caused. He tried to think of something other than the spitfire sitting next to him, but all he came up with were more questions about her. Why had she shut him down when she discovered his name? What had his bastard of a father done to her to cause such a reaction?
Val smiled as a waitress set a margarita in front of him. He paid her with a hundred dollar bill and asked her to keep drinks coming for him and his friends. The woman on his lap snuggled tighter while he spoke to the waitress. Val felt his body heating up. She was all curves-big breasts, narrow waist, plump ass. He didn’t care that her assets were medically enhanced. The very fact that she wanted to look sexy was sexy. He grinned up at her as she rubbed those assets against his chest.
God, he loved women. They were delectably different from men, soft and cuddly and sweet smelling. It didn’t matter if they were thin or heavy, small- or big-breasted, young or older. All of them equally fascinated him. They were truly a gift to mankind, and he intended to spend his life showing his appreciation.
She wiggled on his lap. His dick responded in kind. She giggled. “You know you have a girl’s name.” He drew her down for a kiss, putting her mouth to a different use than talking. He savored the sweet, chemical flavor of her lipstick, imagining the sticky, pink imprints she’d leave on his body as she kissed her way down to his cock.
“Do I kiss like a girl?” he asked, his voice rough.
“I don’t know. I’ve never kissed a girl,” she said, wrapping both arms about his neck.
“You’re lying.” More wiggling. Christ, he was going to lose it. Right here.
“Well, there was one time…”
“Did you like it?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?”
He gripped her hair, positioning her face where he wanted it. “Yes, I would.” He tilted his head and took her mouth with a force and authority that was all male. While she was distracted with the kiss, he lowered his hand to her thigh, bared for his consumption by the short skirt she wore. He stroked her skin from her knee up until his fingers brushed the hem of her skirt.
She didn’t protest. She drew back from the kiss and watched his hand on her leg. He lifted the margarita glass and held it to her lips, then turned the glass and sipped where she’d sipped.
“How is it that such a beautiful woman is here alone?” he asked, resuming his slow stroking.
She made a lovely pout. “We weren’t alone when we came here, but they took off a while ago. I’m so glad you showed up.”
He pulled her ass a little closer. “Just left you, did they?” He made another pass up her leg, his hand now fully beneath her skirt. Would she let him get her off here? Now? Would she quietly peak, her pleasure a secret between the two of them? Or would she go all wild on him with a screaming orgasm? He couldn’t decide which he’d prefer. Both, maybe.
Her phone beeped with an incoming text message. She huffed, but got off his lap to answer it. A quick look at the text had her sending a dark glare toward the woman at the end of the table. “Not funny, Eddie.”
She sat back down on Val’s lap, this time facing the other way-effectively blocking his advances since he was right-handed. He leaned in to kiss her neck and caught sight of the tattoo she wore below her left ear. A crescent moon and star.
I had them branded so we’d know them when we saw them, Rocco had said during the briefing two days ago. Val pressed his lips to the mark of his enemy and sent a surreptitious look around the room, searching for men with the same mark.
Ty looked between Eddie and the floozy warming Val’s lap, wondering what she’d texted. Probably a warning about the audience they were attracting. Man, he couldn’t even live vicariously. He decided to get up and move around. “I’m going to get another Coke. Want one?” he asked the girl next to him. Their waitress was being plenty attentive, thanks to Val, but his leg was stiffening up-he wanted to stretch it out.
Eddie kept her eyes on her phone. “No.”
“Hungry?” he asked, wishing he could get her to look at him one more time.
She did-and caught the sight of his grin. Her eyes narrowed. “No, thank you.”
Ty grabbed his cane and walked through the crush to the bar. He shouldered his way in and leaned an elbow on the counter. The man currently waiting for his drink was one of the many gangbangers clustered about the place. Ty’s gaze wandered over his tats, curious to see if he knew any of the images the guy sported. He followed an unimaginative hate message up the guy’s neck, where it terminated with a crescent moon and star.
A cold feeling started at Ty’s neck and worked its way down his spine. He sent a look around the crowded bar area, seeing the same mark on several men. The man at the bar must have felt his curiosity, for he turned and glared at Ty.
“Nice ink,” Ty tapped his neck. “What does it mean?”
The man’s brows lowered. “Why the fuck are you talking to me?”
Ty laughed. “Just makin’ nice conversation. Got some social anxiety there, big guy?” The gangbanger grunted for an answer and reached for Ty’s throat with his free hand-the other still held his money and was resting on the bar. Ty grabbed two of his fingers and bent them backward as he pushed the hand away. The man should have caved instantly to avoid the pain, but he kept up his forward momentum. He either didn’t feel the pain or didn’t need those two fingers.
Before the situation escalated, the barkeep slammed a baseball bat down on the counter. He looked at the skinhead. “You know the rules. No fighting.” The immediate area around the two of them got quiet, but Ty doubted anyone beyond a few feet from them heard the bang. He eased his hold on the guy’s hand, ready for anything. The man took his drink and paid, glaring a warning at Ty before he stepped away.
Ty looked at the frustrated bartender. “They part of your regular clientele?”
“No. Once a month or so, they come into town and take the place over. I made an agreement with their leader, Pete Conlin, to keep the place open longer when they’re here in exchange for no property destruction. Still, it’s a battle every time.” He eyed Ty. “You’re with the Feds who came into town earlier this week.” Ty didn’t bother correcting him. The less he knew about Owen’s team, the better. The bartender shook his head, grinning as he rubbed the counter down. “You picked a helluva night to come here.”
“Why’s that?”
“They aren’t normal biker dudes. They’re WKBers and they hate government employees.”
Ty took his drink and returned to the table. He tapped Kit on the shoulder. “We’ve got a problem. And not a three girls and six guys kind of problem.”
“What is it?” Kit asked as he stood up next to Ty.
“It’s a six guys and fifty WKBers kind of problem.”
Kit mouthed a curse as he glanced around at the clientele, his gaze snagging on man after man bearing the mark of Ghalib Halim. Val caught his look, and Ty could tell he’d figured out the problem as well. Kelan noticed the loaded glances. He hit Greer and Angel on the shoulders. They both stood up.
“I’m sorry to cut our time short, sweetheart, but it looks as if we’re heading out.” Val stood up, his arm still around the woman he’d been fondling.
She arched against him like a cat stretching, her hands kneading the contours of his chest. “Why do you have to go? Stay and keep me company.”
As Val leaned in for a good-bye kiss, the woman was yanked out of his arms. A fist connected hard with his jaw instead. Stunned by the abrupt change in his circumstances, Val barely had time to focus on the bearded, bald man in front of him before Kelan intercepted the next blow. His friend grabbed the skinhead’s throat in a hold so tight, the man could neither breathe nor pull away. It stopped the others who’d come forward in a close circle.
“Take it down a notch.” Kelan glared at the guy. “I’m going to let you go so we can have some nice convo about what’s got you freaked out.” The guy held his hands up. Kelan eased his hold.
“The bastard was touching my woman. I’ll be doing my talking with this-” He pulled a switchblade out of his pocket and popped the blade. He swiped at Kelan. It was the only strike he managed to make. Kelan hit his throat with the edge of his hand, then kicked out his knees.
When he turned to the next man, Kelan realized all his bros were likewise engaged. The space was too tight for them to take on more than a couple of men each. It was hard to tell how many they were going to have to fight, but the odds were definitely not in their favor.
Ty and Kit were fighting back-to-back, dodging chairs. For every man they put down, another took his place. Ty looked over where Eddie had been sitting. She was gone. At first, he was relieved, thinking she’d slipped away with the other women who’d been at the table. But then he caught a movement under the table and realized she was trapped inside the ring of fighting men.
He moved toward her, putting himself between her hiding spot and the circle of angry gangbangers kicking and thrashing their way into the line the team was holding around the table. As soon as he saw an opening in the crush, he drew her from under the table.
“Go. Get out of here. Find the other women you were with and go home.”
She looked at him for what seemed several heartbeats. He wondered if he’d ever see her again. He touched his hand to her cheek, unable to live out the night without knowing the feel of her skin. “Stay safe, Eddie.”
“It’s Eden. My name’s Eden.”
Ty smiled. Eden. He’d no sooner indulged himself in repeating her name than another fist plowed into him. He pushed into the bastard to give Eden enough space to slip away. When he looked back, she was gone.
The fight seemed to last for hours but probably was only minutes. Ty’s knuckles were torn and bleeding. He had a split lip and one rib felt as if it might be broken. His thigh was protesting its extended strain. He noticed a ring of downed WKBers was clogging up the fight zone just as a shotgun went off.
“It’s over. Get out,” Hal shouted, his shotgun poised for another blast into the ceiling. “And if you ever want to come back, you’ll pay for tonight’s damages.”
“We didn’t start it,” Pete said.
“Of course. I have no doubt who threw the first punch. But don’t worry-you’ll be splitting the bill-half to the Feds, half to you. Now get out.”
Ty and the others watched as the WKBers helped their friends up. They had to carry a few of them. He looked around the room for Eden but didn’t see her. Val clapped Kelan on the back. Being slightly behind him, he didn’t see the wince that tightened the man’s face.
“Thanks for the quick save earlier. Was expecting a pair of soft lips, not a hard fist,” Val said.
“Happy to help. And thank you for getting us all fucked tonight,” Kelan groused. “Next time keep your hands to yourself.”
Val sighed. “Yeah, sorry about that, too. She was just so damned sweet.”
“We didn’t all strike out.” Greer held up a torn napkin. “I got Trudy’s phone number.” He leaned over and spoke to Ty in a lower voice. “Might come in handy if we want an in with the WKBers. She lives in their compound.”
“Great. Maybe you and Val can double date,” Ty growled. He had a reason to get in to the compound too, but he doubted he’d get a warm welcome.
Kit handed Hal, Winchester’s owner, a business card. “Send our bill to Mandy’s house. Sorry things got out of hand.”
“Next time, don’t come here on WKB night, got it?”
“Loud and clear.”
At breakfast the next morning, Mandy thought the guys were unusually quiet but she was too busy cooking breakfast to notice why until she sat at the table. She sat next to Rocco. As he poured coffee for her, she looked around the table.
“Good heavens! What happened?” Every man, except the three who had stayed home last night, looked as if he’d been run over by a herd of horses. They had swollen, split lips, red, bruised cheeks, swollen noses, black eyes. Kit sported a butterfly bandage on his eyebrow. “Were we attacked? How could I sleep through such an event?”
“No attack,” Kit told her. He filled his plate as if nothing extraordinary had happened. “We went to Winchester’s last night.”
“I go there all the time. I never come home looking like you do now. I’ve never even seen a bar fight there. Really, Kit, you should have outgrown that long ago.”
“I’m guessing you don’t go there on WKB night.”
“Oh. Oh, no!” Mandy’s eyes widened as she processed what must have happened.
“And lucky for us,” Kelan explained, “Val hit on the lead guy’s hoochie mama.”
“She voluntarily sat on my lap. How was I supposed to know she was spoken for?” Val said in his own defense.
“Tell me the other guys look worse,” Mandy commented.
“We have owies, Mandy. We need massages.” Val gave her a soulful look.
“No massages,” Rocco growled. “Mandy is not here for your amusement.”
“And don’t even look at Fee. She’s under our protection,” Kelan warned.
Val grunted. “So that’s how this team’s gonna roll, is it?”
“I’d be happy to put you out of your misery,” Rocco offered.
Mandy laughed and set her hand on Rocco’s forearm to calm him. “I have a friend I can introduce you to, Val. I’m sure she’d be quite taken with your injuries.”
Kit glared at her. “Not Ivy.”
Mandy frowned. “I do have more than one friend, Kit.”
“Wow. No one’s sharing. What happened to the team that fights together has fun together?” Val shook his head and glared at Owen. “If I’d known women were so scarce here in Wyoming, I would never have taken this assignment.”
As evening cast long shadows across the ranch, Rocco stood with Blade at the high fence of Kitano’s corral watching Mandy work the Paint. He loved how she handled the gelding, eased his fears, respected him, asserted herself. It seemed to Rocco that the Paint looked forward to his twice-daily workouts with her. Soon she’d be able to ride him.
Blade’s phone rang. He had a short conversation with the person on the other end, then hung up. Rocco looked at him. “Problems?”
“No. I asked my foreman to take an extended leave for a while until we get the situation here cleared up. He said he was ready to go, but had a few things to discuss with me. I’m going to head over there. I’ll be glad when they’re safe.”
“Want company?” Rocco offered.
“No need. I shouldn’t be long.”
Ty walked into the foyer of his house a few minutes later, calling for Dennis.
“In here, sir.”
“Glad you could make arrangements so quickly,” Ty said as he walked into his father’s office. A sound caught his attention over by the private bathroom off the study. He caught a quick glimpse of Kathy, Dennis’s wife, gagged and bound. Hearing someone behind him, he spun around as a tranquilizer nailed his shoulder.
His world began to wobble, his vision narrowing, closing. He looked at his caretaker, who rushed forward to catch him. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I had no choice-”
The rest of his words were lost to Ty.
Dennis looked up as Amir led his whimpering wife out of the bathroom. “It’s done. I shot him, now let her go.”
“Take him out to your car and put him in the trunk.”
Dennis looked at his wife, then at Amir. “He’s too heavy for me to move by myself.”
Amir cocked his gun and pointed it at Kathy. “I suggest you figure it out, Mr. Jackson, or you’ll have two bodies to move.”
Dennis lifted Ty under his arms, but before he could pull him out of the office, Amir told him to stop. “Give me his cell phone.” Dennis handed it over. Amir dropped it on the floor and crushed its case beneath his heel. “Get moving,” he ordered.
Dennis dragged Ty across the foyer, out the front door, and down the steps to the waiting SUV. He opened the back hatch and lifted Ty into the empty cargo area. Amir led his wife out and shoved her into the backseat. “Get in and drive,” he ordered Dennis.
“Where?”
“Head up toward Hwy 130 West. I will tell you when to turn off.”
Dennis drove as fast he dared. Police patrols were scarce out this way. He didn’t know if he should comply or if he should try to get someone’s attention. In the end, the gun pointed at his wife’s head made his decision for him. Once they’d gone a little ways into the Medicine Bow National Forest, Amir directed him to pull off the highway onto a windy dirt road that hugged a few cliffs and crossed a couple of creeks.
“Stop. We’re here.” Amir ordered Dennis and his wife out of the car. The night air was cold in the mountains. Dennis took his coat off and wrapped it around her shoulders.
“Where are we going?” he asked Amir, who’d taken a flashlight out of the trunk. Dennis looked at Ty to see if he was rousing yet. He didn’t move. God, he hoped he hadn’t killed the boy. Though if he had, it might be better than whatever Amir had planned for them.
“Follow the path. I’ll show you where to drop his body.”
The ground was rocky, the path barely discernible in the dark. Amir jerked the flashlight around, using it more for his footing than theirs. Dennis almost fell into a deep fissure before realizing the path had ended right where he stood. He reached out and grabbed his wife.
Amir stepped up and poured light down the narrow hole, a hole too deep to see the bottom in the darkness. “That’s where you’ll dump the body.” He pulled out a long knife and turned to Kathy.
Immediately, she started crying, pleading. “Silence,” he complained, backhanding her. He grabbed her wrists, slashing through the rope that bound them. “Help your husband move the body.”
They trudged back to the SUV. Dennis’s mind was churning quickly, spinning through different options. Amir stayed in the Explorer as they pulled Ty out. He tried to hold most of Ty’s weight to spare his wife as much of the burden as he could.
“Is he dead, Dennis? Have you killed Ty?”
Dennis looked around. He could still see Amir with the flashlight in the driver’s seat. “No,” he whispered. “Let’s be careful how we get him into the hole. I saw a ledge not far below where we were standing. Maybe he can get out when he comes to. Hurry now. I don’t want him to awaken while we are here.”
Kathy was sobbing quietly, broken by fear. She stumbled and hurt her knee. “There is no one to help us, is there?”
“We’ll see. We’ll see, Kathy.”
At the edge of the crevice, Dennis positioned Ty so that he could slide down the one side, hopefully without getting any broken bones, though what good that would be if he couldn’t get out and no one knew where he was, Dennis didn’t know. When it was done, Kathy leaned over and tossed Dennis’s coat after him.
“Why did you do that?” Amir asked, his voice almost a scream. Gone was his knife, in its place was his sleek Glock. Dennis hadn’t heard him come up behind them. He drew Kathy a step away from the ledge. “It slipped is all. It fell off of her when we tossed him.”
“He is still alive isn’t he? Isn’t he?” Amir shouted this last when they didn’t answer quickly enough. “Go back to the car and wait for me,” he ordered.
Dennis grabbed Kathy’s hand and hurried to do Amir’s bidding. Amir shot a couple of rounds into the fissure where Ty was. Dennis had never felt such terror in his life. An idea took form as they rushed down the jagged hillside. At the SUV, he opened the back passenger door and ordered Kathy inside. He jumped in the driver’s seat, then put the SUV in gear, expecting a blaze of gunfire at any moment.
He could see the bouncing light of Amir’s flashlight as he ran back toward the SUV down the rough trail. Dennis cranked the steering wheel and spun the vehicle around. They drove fast down the dirt road. The trail seemed to take forever. Kathy kept a watch behind them. The narrow road made a sharp turn to the left, hugging a ridge. Dennis reminded himself to go slowly. His heart was pounding so that it drowned out Kathy’s whimpers in the backseat.
He hated leaving Ty with Amir. God, it probably didn’t matter. Amir had fired shots down into the ravine-the boy was probably already gone. They made a sharp turn onto another side road. The incline was steep, and the tires did not seem to grip the road through the dirt and gravel. He tapped the brakes.
Surely, there were cops ahead in the town of Centennial, or if not, at least there were people. He could get help there. He tapped the brakes again, realizing he was going too fast for the sheer, winding back road. Nothing. He tapped again.
The brakes were gone.
He tried easing up on the handbrake. He was so focused on the brake that he didn’t steer the SUV around another sharp bend. He looked in the rear view mirror, caught Kathy’s panicked gaze as the SUV launched itself over the mountainside.