Gabe

Late into the evening, I reach for a shot of whiskey and toss it back, washing away the stress and strain of the past days. The band off to my right is playing a classic from the eighties, and the dance floor is full of Allie’s friends and coworkers, including herself. Quite the beautiful bride, she’s wearing a stunning lace wedding dress with her hair in big loose curls around her shoulders. The ceremony was beautiful and simple, as is the venue. Stone walls meet with dark wood accents and an unlit fireplace rests against the far wall. I assume the rustic wood tables and black chairs are all rented, as well as the tall centerpieces. I can’t help but think if I ever get married, I’d like something like this. Micah and Allie’s ceremony was personal, with their telling of their own vows. There’s just the right amount of people, and it’s obvious that everyone, for the most part, seems to know each other. There’s something special about that.

I motion for the bartender, who’s dressed in a white shirt, bow tie, and black vest, to serve me up another shot. He grabs the bottle, pouring the dark amber liquid into the glass.

Just as I raise the glass to my lips, a stern voice says, “Now that we’ve got some time, care to explain to me why McKenna’s not here.”

I swallow the fiery liquid and glance sideways, finding Micah, no longer with his black jacket on, frowning at me. I hadn’t told him when we were getting dressed before the ceremony that McKenna wasn’t coming. I can only assume he thought she’d meet me for the reception, but her chair during the dinner had remained empty. “She thought it best she didn’t come,” I tell him, returning the glass to the bar.

His brows shot up. “Thought it best for whom?”

“Not for you or Allie.” I see from years of friendship, knowing that look on his face, where his mind is at, so I explain, “She’s worried that the paparazzi are going to get another photograph of us together and they’ll use it against me.”

“Ah, I see,” Micah says with a knowing look. He turns to the bartender and orders, “Scotch on the rocks, please.”

“Yes, sir.” The barkeep accepts the order and hurries off to fetch his drink.

The band switches songs and squeals drift over from the dance floor as Micah leans an elbow on the bar and says to me, “She’s protecting you.”

“It appears that way,” I agree, my muscles stiffening against all the things I couldn’t control. “Of course, her protection is the very last thing I want.” I want this to be over. I want the tabloids to leave us alone. I want her with me.

Micah’s brows furrow at me as he accepts the glass the bartender delivers to him and takes a sip. Over the rim of his glass, he regards me, then states, “You’ve grown more attached to her.”

I draw in a long, deep breath before addressing him. “While the situation is complicated, what I feel for her is very much uncomplicated.”

“This will soon be over,” he says, obviously reading my tension. “There will be a time when you stop looking over your shoulder and wondering if someone is following you.”

Of course, he understands, Micah has been there. Seeing the tension rising in Micah’s face—obviously, he’s worried for me—I cup his shoulder. “I’ll look forward to that time, but this night is about you and your beautiful bride.”

Micah blinks, slowly the cold on his face replaced by warmth as he glances over my shoulder. “I am a lucky bastard, no?”

I follow his gaze, finding Allie dancing with Taylor, Darius’s wife, and Hadley, Ryder’s girlfriend, as Darius and Ryder watch them, sitting at a table a few feet away, enjoying a drink and sharing a laugh.

Never in all the years that I’ve been friends with these men have I felt like an outsider. Christ, back in our twenties, we’d created an inner circle for ourselves, owning the four sex clubs in the city, Afterglow, Lace, Impulse, Masquerade, living life to the fullest. Excitement and thrills . . . we had invented the Dominants’ Council to create a clubhouse, so to speak. Under that title, we ruled the city’s sex industry, profited off it, and enjoyed the delights of lust and freedom ourselves. But these past weeks, their lives have settled into something that is the exact opposite of what we all stood for. They are members of a different club now, and I no longer fit that mold. Both Micah and Ryder have given up ownership of their clubs, and Darius is only a silent partner. They all sought to move on, while my life still spins wildly out of control, being something I never wanted.

Where will I land when this is all over?

“She is stunning.” I focus back on what’s important tonight, giving Micah a firm slap on the back, not allowing my self-pity to ruin the most important day of my closest friend’s life. “I could not be happier for you.”

“Thank you for that, Gabe.” His smile is content as he takes me into a rough embrace.

From going through college together, to enjoying our wild twenties together, to now a new direction in our thirties, it’s obvious Micah’s found peace within himself. He downs the rest of his drink and then grins. “I better go to her before she gets annoyed with me.” He gestures.

I glance over my shoulder, finding Allie eagerly waving at him to come to her on the dance floor. “You don’t want a case of Bridezilla,” I tell him seriously.

“I certainly do not.” Micah laughs, then passes by me.

Allie gives me a little wave, which I return, then I watch as Micah wraps his arms around her, spinning her around for all to see. I shut my eyes, feeling the warmth of the booze slide deliciously through my veins, but tonight I can’t drown my tension.

“We’re watching her.”

I snap my eyes open, find Ryder sliding up to the bar next to me. “Watching who?”

“McKenna.” He rests an elbow on the bar, facing me. “Alex has eyes on her. If she leaves her house, we’ll know about it. She’s not in any danger.”

I snort and slowly shake my head, blowing out a deep breath. First, Micah. Now, Ryder. “Do I really look that miserable?”

Ryder nods. “Yes.”

“Perfect.” motion the bartender for another shot, pretty sure that’s the only thing that’s going to get me through tonight.

The bartender pours the shot and asks Ryder, “And for you, sir?”

“I’ll have the same,” Ryder replies.

Once the second shot is poured, the bartender moves farther down the bar, and I lift my glass to Ryder. “To Micah and Allie.”

He raises his glass. “To Micah and Allie.”

I toss back the shot and clench my jaw against the hot whiskey, then slide the empty glass back down to the bartender, as I add to Ryder, “I know that you have McKenna protected, and I thank you for that, I’m just . . .”

“Exhausted?” Ryder offers.

“Yeah, exhausted.” I sigh, rubbing the back of my neck. “Beyond ready for all this shit to be behind us.”

Ryder watches me then frowns, shaking his head. “This entire situation has been frustrating to no end, and yet . . .” He glances behind him at his sassy blond girlfriend, Hadley, who’s holding on to Taylor’s hands and dancing, a big smile on her face. “Without this shit with the tabloids, I doubt I would be with her.” He turns to me and heaves a long sigh. “And yet, at the same time, I watch what you’re going through—”

“Be happy for yourself, because I am happy for you,” I interject, cupping his shoulder. “Don’t let my mood make you think otherwise. Besides, Micah said it before, and he’s right; soon this shit will be resolved and life will move on.”

Ryder cocks his head. “How will your life move on, will McKenna be in it?”

I pause and consider that thought. It’s so easy to open my mouth and say yes. She’s the woman I want. Christ, she’s the woman I need. But I’m not foolish enough to pretend we don’t have a major obstacle in our way. Her brother. I won’t be sure how I feel about him until I see him face-to-face. How will I handle the way he’s sold us out?

Truth is, I also know McKenna will pick him over me, because that’s where her loyalty lies. While I can respect that, and know I’d love for her to be that loyal about me, I know life is hard and sometimes not very pretty.

“Wanting her in my life is not the problem,” I finally reply.

“Then what is?” Ryder asks.

“Her fucking brother, and the trouble he’s created for us all.”

Right as Ryder’s lips part to reply, his phone suddenly dings, and his brows furrow, immediately telling me something isn’t right. He retrieves his phone and curses. “We’ve got a problem.”

“What problem?” I frown.

He flips his phone, and on the screen, I see McKenna leaving her building, her purse in her hand. That’s not the problem. Next to her is a man I don’t know, but the other one is Tommy, Marcus Draken’s goon.

Fury shakes my hand. “Please tell me McKenna has not willingly left her house with these men.”

Ryder sighs. “I’m sorry, Gabe.”

McKenna

A ten-minute car ride later into Pacific Heights, and I’m exiting a black Cadillac Escalade and entering a brick-and-stucco Bavarian-style mansion located on Billionaires Row. Marcus’s bodyguard, Tommy, dressed in a suit similar to what I’d seen him in before, leads me through the grand two-story house, with the cherrywood floors, staircase, and paneling, another man follows close behind us.

Nerves rattle me as we pass a living room to my right, then a large formal dining room before the men are bringing me into a library, books lining the walls from ceiling to floor with a bank of windows that let moonlight stream in. I keep my purse in front of me, hoping that microphone on my cell phone I secretly turned on in the car will record this conversation.

Marcus is sitting in a brown leather wingback chair, reading a book bound in dark leather, and it’s beyond clear how powerful he is. He all but reeks of authority, but the truth is right now he’s my only way to Evan. And as much as Gabe wouldn’t want to know, this isn’t the first time I’ve been around men like Marcus Draken. The last time I bailed my brother out, it had been with a man just like Marcus, only that loan shark had been out of Las Vegas, not San Francisco.

No matter what, the very last thing I want is that tabloid capturing a photo of Gabe at the house of Marcus Draken, career criminal. He’s taken enough hits for me already. I won’t allow his life to crumble because he’s cleaning up my brother’s mess. This is my problem, not his. With that, I stuff all my nerves into a place in my soul that Draken can’t touch.

“Sir,” Tommy says as we approach. “Ms. Archer is here to see you.”

Marcus shuts his book with an audible thud and gives a bright smile. “Ms. Archer, it’s lovely to see you again.” He places the book on his lap, watching me closely as I reach him.

“You said you had information on my brother,” I get right to the point. “What is it?”

Marcus swats at the air. “We’ll discuss that soon enough, but first”—he gestures to the chair across from him—“let’s discuss the money I’m owed, shall we?”

I dart my eyes to the guy by the door, who looks slightly bored, then watch Tommy settle in behind the chair that I drop down into. None of these men can be trusted, and I’m aware of the danger I’ve put myself in. But I know men like Marcus; he wants his money. I give him that, and I walk away. Because at the end of the day, even if his business is dirty, it’s still business, and he simply wants to get paid.

However, I focus on all the things he didn’t say to ensure I have the evidence I need, in case I need it. “Do you care to explain how you are owed money, considering when we spoke last you said that you didn’t know my brother?”

Marcus’s mouth twitches, eyes dangerously darken. “At the time, it didn’t feel right to discuss business with those unrelated to it.”

“You mean because Gabe was there?”

Marcus inclines his head, and his voice is as smooth as silk when he adds, “This is a family matter, and Gabe O’Keefe is not your family.”

Admittedly, for a second, I sigh in relief that at least Marcus is admitting to having Evan. It makes me feel one step closer to him. I force myself not to get lost in the thousand questions I want to ask, and stay on point. “Is my brother alive?”

“For now, yes,” Marcus replies.

“For now?” I repeat, steadying myself for the conversation ahead. “Have you hurt him?”

“‘Hurt’ is an interesting word, isn’t it?” Marcus asks, lacing his hands on his lap. “What is your definition of ‘hurt’?”

“Injured, bleeding, needing a hospital.”

Marcus glances at Tommy. “Would you say that Evan’s state is within Ms. Archer’s definition?”

Tommy chuckles darkly. “Perhaps.”

I clench my hands on my lap, grit my teeth. I don’t want to play these games, and I want far away from these men. “You asked me here privately to talk, so talk. What do I need to do to get my brother out of this situation?”

Marcus regards me coolly. “Here is the thing, Ms. Archer. Your brother has become a problem for me. I don’t like problems.”

“You and me both, Mr. Draken,” I reply. “But do explain, what trouble has he gotten himself into?”

“He has taken a great deal of my money and cannot return what he’s taken.” Marcus’s brows lift. “Therein is the problem.”

“It’s only a problem if he can’t pay it all,” I say. “I will help him. Therefore, the problem is gone.”

Marcus smiles; it isn’t friendly. “Ah, yes, I’m aware that you think you can help him out of this.” He crosses his legs, hands on top, and adds, “I admit, Ms. Archer, that when I became aware of Evan’s debt to me, I wasn’t exactly sure how to handle him.”

Hot fury descends on my body, my nails digging into my palms. “I saw what you decided to do to him at the hotel.”

Marcus chuckles. “My men sometimes have a little too much fun, don’t they?”

Masculine laughter fills the room, reminding me that I am in a place I shouldn’t be, surrounded by three very strong men. But there’s something to their laughter, like I’m a toy, a plaything for them to swat around. I glance at both the doors in this room, and know with the other guard and Tommy, there’s no way I’m getting out of this room. “What exactly do you want from me?” I ask again, gritting my teeth.

“I want my money that your brother has taken from me, Ms. Archer.” Marcus stands and moves to the bar in a corner of the room, taking out the scotch and pouring himself a glass. “I know for a fact that you don’t have the funds to pay me what your brother owes me.”

I hold my breath. “How much does he owe?”

“Fifty thousand.”

“Fifty thousand,” I repeat, exhaling, trying to let that sink in.

“Well…” Marcus smiles over his shoulder. “Forty and change, plus interest, so yes, fifty thousand.”

It feels like a hundred-pound weight is pressing against my chest. The reality is, I can’t pay that money. For the first time ever, I’m not thinking about my brother’s safety, I’m thinking of mine. Because right now, as Marcus raises his glass to his mouth and takes a sip of his top-shelf scotch, I realize I’m a pawn in a greater plan.

“You are maxed with your finances,” Marcus continues, “and therefore, unable to pay Evan’s debt. Which brings us back to your brother owing me money that won’t be paid.” His gaze rakes me from head to toe. “To be perfectly honest, Ms. Archer, even if I feel that perhaps you could work the money off at the club, it’s a large amount.”

I glare at him. “I. Am. Not. Working. For. You.”

The side of his mouth arches, eyes twinkle with dark intentions. “Ah, a pity, nonetheless but we are still at an impasse. Your brother owes me a large amount of money, and I expect it paid.”

Realizing the situation before me, I shut my eyes, trying to think, come up with a plan, anything to get Evan and myself out of this. When I open my eyes again, I say the only thing I can. “You’re going to have to give me some time to come up with the money.”

“Time is not what you need. Money is what you need,” Marcus says, returning to his seat and crossing one ankle over his knee, his glass resting on the armchair. “Believe me, I’ve had my people look at this from every angle. You won’t pay this debt. And I know you already refinanced your condo.”

I had refinanced to pay Evan’s last debt. “You looked through my private financial records?” I ask.

Marcus picks a piece of lint off his pants and flicks it onto the floor. “Your boyfriend isn’t the only one who’s connected.”

I pause and watch him then, and for all the nerves I felt earlier they’re nothing compared to what I’m feeling now. It’s there in his eyes, this plan where I’m his pawn. You need to get out of here, McKenna. Now. “If you know about my financial situation, then why did you call me here?”

“Oh, you won’t pay his debt,” Marcus says. “But you seem to keep forgetting a very important factor, Ms. Archer.”

“What’s that?”

“I will be paid by any means necessary.” His gaze falls to Tommy behind me.

There’s danger in his eyes when he nods, and it’s danger that has me on my feet and running toward the door in a split second. I glance into the door guy’s eyes, he isn’t looking bored anymore, but then there’s tug on my hair, and I’m free-falling to the ground, the weight of a man following.

Gabe

With fury burning off the liquor, I storm into the groom’s suite. The T-shirt and jeans that I’d worn here are folded on the chair in the corner near my duffle bag, with my boots resting on the hardwood floor. “Please tell me you have a way to find her,” I demand of Ryder when he enters the room and shuts the door behind him.

“While Alex could easily hack into the phone company and access the GPS coordinates for McKenna’s cellphone . . .” He hesitates, shoving his hands into his pockets, and lets out a deep breath. “Keep in mind that what I tell you next is because I’m trying to help you. That said, back when this all began, we put a tap on her cellphone.”

I arch a single eyebrow. “Say that again?”

“Calm down.” Ryder gives a measured look. “Remember, I’m not the enemy here. Tapping her phone was a necessary evil, I’m afraid.”

Determined not to pummel a close friend who’s been nothing but helpful, I snap my glare away and stare at the hardwood floor beneath my shiny black shoes. Before I would’ve had no problem bugging McKenna, but now it feels wrong. We’re doing to her what I originally had been furious at her for doing to me.

I’m crazy with rage, with helplessness, with fear, as I breathe in deeply and exhale just as slowly. I want to protect her now. Hell, I want to save her from the grips of the man who has her. And it’s now, lost in these thoughts, that I realize somewhere along the line things have shifted. I can no longer deny it. It’s there staring me right in the face. I lift my head to Ryder and tell him, “You do realize that I’m in love with this woman.”

Ryder pauses. Then, his expression softens. “I do now.” Another long pause as his eyes search mine. “Regardless, Gabe, I still would have tapped her phone, whether you liked that or not. If her brother had called anyone it would have been her, and we could have tracked him from that call.”

I run a hand over my face, trying not to lose my cool. Christ, I’d been the one who approached Ryder originally, asking him to do all he could to find her brother. “Forgive me,” I say, finally dropping my hand, forcing my muscles to relax. “I’m . . .”

“Emotional.” Ryder waves me off. “You don’t need to apologize. I can’t imagine what you’re going through right now. This is a fucked up situation, and believe me, I take no enjoyment whatsoever spying on the woman who clearly means a lot to you.” He moves to the desk in the room, leans against the edge. “The good news is that because of that phone tap, we heard the conversation between Marcus Draken and McKenna.”

That’s an unexpected turn. “You have a recording of it?” I ask.

He nods, reaches into his pocket, and takes out his phone. Once he hits a button, he places the cell on the desk next to him, and Draken’s gravelly voice fills the air.

“Good evening, McKenna. This is Marcus Draken.”

A pause. When McKenna speaks, her voice is cool and calm. “What can I do for you, Mr. Draken?”

“I’ve had a change of heart,” he says. “I’d like to discuss this situation with your brother if you’d be willing to come and meet me.”

She pauses. “What exactly do you want to discuss?”

“I think we can come to an amicable conclusion to your brother’s situation.”

Her voice hardens. “Please do explain, because the last time we saw you, you said that you didn’t know him.”

“Oh, well, you see I have learned a thing or two about him since you came to see me,” he replies, all too careful not to implicate himself. “And I do like to help people out of sticky situations. Therefore, I think we could come to an arrangement, but I’d like to do that face-to-face.”

“I’m sure that could be arranged,” she replies. “Would you like Gabe and me to come to your club?”

It’s his turn to pause now. “I’m afraid that I would like to speak to you alone, if that’s all right. This is a private matter between you and your brother, and I don’t feel I need to tell Gabe O’Keefe my personal business.”

My body stiffens at the cold edge to Draken’s voice, a note in there warning me of a danger to come. A note that either McKenna doesn’t hear or ignores, because she finally says, “When?”

“Now,” Marcus replies. “My driver is on his way to gather you.”

One last long pause. Then, “I’ll see you soon.”

Ryder clicks the button on his phone. “The phone line goes dead after that.”

“I don’t know how I can be proud of her bravery and furious at her all at the same time.” I run my hands over my face, trying to understand her position. “Why would she put herself in this situation?”

Ryder gives me a level look. “I imagine she was thinking of you, thinking of all of us, and wanting to protect us from what her brother has done.”

The second he says the words, I know he’s likely right. Through all of this, McKenna felt guilty, like somehow she was at fault for what her brother had done. Apparently, my telling her she wasn’t at fault hadn’t gotten through to her. But right now, I don’t want to her to be brave and try to fix all this on her own. I want her safe, nothing else matters above that. “So, to further protect me,” I say, trying to get it into my head to understand, “she’s put herself into the hands of a serial criminal?”

“He won’t hurt her,” Ryder says. “Believe me, Marcus Draken is a smart man. From what Alex and I have learned of him, he’s evaded the police for years. He knows how to run an underground business and not get caught. I have no doubt at all that he knows I’ve been watching him now, after you gave me his name.”

I cross my arms. “How do you know that?”

Ryder gives an unamused smile, lifts his brows. “Alex had a couple conversations with the hacker employed by Draken while she attempted to get into his security.”

That could only mean one thing. “He has good people working for him, I take it?”

Ryder nods, smiles. “Apparently so. Alex was very annoyed by him.” His smile faded. “But since Draken knows that we know about him, he won’t do anything to her. It’s too risky.”

“So, he wants something from her?”

Ryder inclines his head. “Now we simply need to find out what that is.”

“It can’t be money,” I say. “She doesn’t have any.”

“But he is a loan shark,” Ryder retorts. “I’m not sure what else he’d want from her.”

I absorb that and let the little bit of hope that he’s too smart to hurt her ease the tension in the center of my chest. Before I order us to move ahead, I reach into my pocket and grab my phone, and turn the volume back on. “Fuck, I shouldn’t have turned off my phone. I’ve got a couple texts here. The first is from McKenna.”

“You were the best man in your closest friend’s wedding,” Ryder says with a measured look. “You had no choice. Keep focused. What does the text say?”

While I know that’s true, tension floods me. “The text reads, ‘Don’t be mad. Draken asked for a private meeting. I’m on my way there now. I’ll call soon.’”

Ryder frowns. “What’s the second text?”

My muscles surge with fury and helplessness at the same time. “It’s a text from Draken. It says, I have something of yours.” I breathe deep, ensuring I don’t throw my phone against the stone wall. I can’t think. I can’t move as I take in the photo that Draken sent, because it’s the blood on her mouth, the way the masculine fingers grip her hair, the way she’s hanging limp in the photograph. “I thought you said he wouldn’t hurt her,” I barely manage.

Ryder sighs, pressing his hand on my shoulder. “What I meant was, he won’t kill her.”

“Is everything all right?”

I jerk my head up, find Darius and Micah entering the room, eyes intense. “Micah,” I say, but then I stop. How do I explain? How do I leave the wedding of my closest friend to go after the woman whose brother sold us out?

My loyalty to the men around me holds strong. I’ve never wanted to choose between them and a woman before. But . . . “I can’t stay,” I finish. “McKenna’s in trouble . . .” From meeting Marcus Draken until now, I retell the story about what’s unfolded thus far to Darius and Micah.

By the time I’m finished, Micah’s eyes are wide. “Jesus Christ, Gabe.” He steps forward, cups my shoulder, his new platinum wedding band on his finger. “You should have told me all this earlier, regardless that I got married today. And yes, this takes priority. I can explain to Allie later why you’ve left. She’ll understand.”

I glance at Darius, and he nods, shoving his hands into the pockets of his slacks. “Go get her.”

When I turn to Ryder, finding his expression firm and ready, he gives a dangerous grin. “Let me tell Hadley, and then we’ll go together and get this done.”

Surrounded by friends, men that know me better than anyone else in the world, men whose secrets have been exposed and lives have been affected as much as mine from day one of this shitshow, I promise, “Tonight this will end, one way or another.”