Undercover Fighter

Underground Fighters #3

 

By Aislinn Kearns

Undercover Fighter: (Underground Fighters #3)

Copyright © 2018 by Aislinn Kearns

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

 

 

Cover by Vila Design

Editing by Nikki Rose

Underground Fighters Series

Caged Warrior: (Underground Fighters #1)

Russian Beast: (Underground Fighters #2)

Undercover Fighter: (Underground Fighters #3)

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

 

 

 

Sleaze oozed from the pores of the room.

The dim blue lights obscured the worst of the sins, but there was still enough on display to make Wyatt feel like a virus crept over him, staining his skin and his soul.

Smoke curled up from the mouths of men and women, clogging the air with the scent of cigarettes and the harder drugs being passed freely amongst the party guests. Free-flowing alcohol sloshed in glasses and onto the floor as the night grew late. Women in skimpy outfits worked the room, their smiles brittle and their eyes dead. The men they pretended to fawn over either didn’t notice or didn’t care, too intent on copping a feel as the women passed with drinks or food.

Wyatt watched the proceedings from an armchair in the corner of the room, cringing inwardly at the sights. He kept McCready, his target and the only reason he was here, in his peripheral vision as he surveyed the room. It was a huge, open-plan space, fitting a hundred or so people inside before spilling them out onto the deck beyond. The crisp air outside didn’t deter the guests, as they drank and flirted and swam in the heated outdoor pool.

Inside, the room had enough columns, items of furniture, and pot plants to create an illusion of privacy if any guest wanted it. None took the house up on its implicit offer, though. Instead, men openly groped McCready’s women.

Wyatt turned back to his host. McCready surveyed the den of iniquity with intense satisfaction. He organised the underground fights Wyatt and other men participated in every Saturday night. Based on the guests here tonight, Wyatt was willing to guess that was only a small part of McCready’s business.

Wyatt wasn’t here to bust him for that, though. He had bigger fish to fry. He swallowed, moistening a throat dry from the smoke and the nausea currently roiling his stomach.

McCready glanced over and caught Wyatt’s eye. Wyatt tried not to curse. He’d done his best to stay invisible so he wouldn’t have to participate in McCready’s entertainments. But rather than let on, Wyatt forced a slight smile as McCready made his way towards him.

McCready was a man of average height and above-average width. His shoulders strained at the seams of his custom-tailored suit, tonight’s a royal blue. His shoes were shined to perfection, probably Italian leather, and his hair was an expensive undercut that probably cost more than all the haircuts Wyatt had got in his life put together.

None of those superficial trappings disguised the fact that McCready was a very dangerous man. His shoulders were broad with muscles—and not those from a gym. His eyes were hard, merciless, and Wyatt suddenly had no doubt this man had killed in the past, and wouldn’t hesitate to do so again.

Though, now he had men to do that for him. Fighters he’d hand-picked and trained to be his right-hand men.

A role Wyatt intended to take for himself, God help him.

“Enjoying yourself?” McCready asked as he reached Wyatt’s elbow, raising his voice above the music and the crowd.

“Sure,” Wyatt replied, attempting to sound enthusiastic.

McCready raised a disbelieving brow. “And yet you haven’t had a drink, or a woman, since you got here. What, exactly, are you finding so entertaining?”

Wyatt set his jaw, determined not to let his surprise show at how closely McCready had been watching him.

“I’m getting a lay of the land first,” he replied. “Taking it all in. Wouldn’t mind a drink, though.” He’d rather not drink, not here, but it was the easiest concession he could make to get McCready off his back.

McCready smiled as if he’d won a point against him. He flagged down a passing woman in gold hotpants and a matching bikini top. She was obviously one of McCready’s women, the same who served drinks at the fights Wyatt participated in on Saturday nights. Wyatt had always been curious about them. Did he hire them for the occasions? Were they on retainers? Or, he thought with a sudden jolt of horror, were they more like pets McCready kept to entertain his guests?

This particular woman was one he’d seen a couple of times. Dark hair, dark eyes, pale skin. She was pretty, though not as pretty as the rest of the women, if he was being honest. Perversely, that made him like her more, as if she, too, didn’t belong in this place of excess and superficiality. But her eyes had that same dull sheen as the other women, almost robotic as she looked at him without emotion.

Wyatt had the sudden urge to flee. To arrest McCready, as he would have done a year ago. To take the Stepford Wives away from this man, and protect them. To bring them back to life, and help them forget whatever McCready had forced them to do that made them shut themselves off so completely from their surroundings.

Is this what Wyatt would become? Would his mission turn him into some kind of mechanical zombie, willing to do whatever the man beside him asked? He hoped not. Though perhaps that would be the price he’d have to pay to get the answers he wanted.

“What’ll it be?” McCready prompted Wyatt, pulling him back to the present. He couldn’t flee, not now, when he was so close. Getting invited to one of McCready’s parties meant he was at least somewhat trusted by McCready. Surely it was only a matter of time before he was close enough to glean the man’s secrets.

“Whiskey,” he told the woman. “Neat.”

She gave a curt nod and spun away, quickly disappearing into the crowd while dodging wandering hands as best she could. Almost all the guests were men, and none of them seemed to be the type who had qualms about touching random women. Wyatt had no doubt this was intentional on McCready’s part. He cultivated his acquaintances precisely. For what purpose, Wyatt wasn’t sure.

Though, given the fact that Wyatt believed he recognised at least one senator, and another prominent businessman, among the attendees, it could simply be business. Though, he doubted it.

“I could give her to you, you know,” McCready said casually.

Wyatt tore his gaze away from where the woman had disappeared into the crowd and raised an eyebrow at McCready.

“Hmmm?” he asked, not sure what McCready meant, but having a horrible feeling he knew.

“If you want her, she’s yours. For tonight, of course.” McCready eyed him closely, watching for Wyatt’s reaction.

He managed not to give him one. Just. “Maybe later. I don’t want to miss any of the party.” Even if Wyatt was the kind of man who’d take McCready up on his offer, he knew it wouldn’t come without a price.

McCready laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. “Fair enough.”

It had apparently been the right thing to say to put McCready off without raising his suspicions, but Wyatt’s stomach roiled. McCready handed the women around like the drinks and drugs? Didn’t they get a say? Were they prostitutes, and he their pimp? Or was there another reason they were so under his thumb?

“You fought well tonight,” McCready murmured, making conversation.

Wyatt slanted a glance at McCready, trying not to expose his growing hatred for the man. He’d known he was depraved, but Wyatt was beginning to think he hadn’t suspected the half of it.

“Thank you,” he replied. His match had been against Weston, one of McCready’s favoured few. The bigger man currently nursed a beer, sulking against the wall as he glared at the room. Cuts Wyatt had inflicted earlier decorated his face. Wyatt couldn’t help but get a thrill of satisfaction at the sight. Weston was a dick—violent, stupid, and thuggish.

The woman came back with a drink on a tray, proffering it to Wyatt. He clasped the glass and raised it to his lips. The liquid was smooth down his throat. Top shelf stuff. She hadn’t skimped on him—or maybe McCready only had the good stuff.

McCready grabbed her arm before she could turn away. “Kat, this is Wyatt. I want you to take very good care of him tonight. Whatever he asks, okay?”

Kat’s gaze turned to him, and for a moment he saw a flash of something in those dull depths. Hatred? Disgust? Whatever it had been, it was gone too quickly for him to make it out. But no matter what she thought of him, he was cheered to know the spirit hadn’t been completely sucked out of her yet.

“Of course,” she murmured, ducking her head.

“Perfect,” McCready said, eyeing them both. “I have to go talk to some of my guests. Have fun tonight.” The last was said with a pointed look at Wyatt, who plastered on a smile.

When McCready had disappeared, he turned back to Kat. She looked at him expectantly, waiting. Wyatt didn’t know what to say.

“I’m fine,” he told her.

She raised her eyebrows, some life entering her gaze again. “I didn’t ask.”

Wyatt cracked a smile, his first genuine one for the evening. “I mean, I don’t need anything. But thank you.”

Kat shrugged, giving him an amused once-over. Her gaze was penetrating, as if she could see far more than he wanted to reveal, and she didn’t exactly like what she saw. It unnerved him, wondering what she saw in him.

Her eyes drifted up to his, where they locked. A sizzle of attraction passed through his veins. She was far more beautiful now that she didn’t look so robotic. The life in her eyes made her look like a real person, not a doll, and Wyatt found he much preferred that in a woman.

“Well, I may as well stick by your side in case you need anything.”

“And avoid the groping hands out there?” he asked, only semi-joking, with a tilt of his head to indicate the room at large.

She blinked, her eyes growing wary. “Why are you here?” she asked suddenly.

Wyatt straightened, panic edging in at his corners. He took a sip of whiskey to stall. “What do you mean?”

“You had to be forced to get a drink, you haven’t groped a single woman, and you were sulking in the corner looking miserable. If you don’t want to be here, leave.” She was glaring at him, as if he’d personally offended her. By doing what, he couldn’t be sure. And, now that he thought about it, why had she been watching him so closely?

“You’re not having fun, either. So why don’t you leave?”

Her eyes shuttered. “I can’t,” she murmured, so low he could barely hear.

He stepped closer to her, crowding into her personal space. “Neither,” he hissed, “can I.”

Her gaze snapped up, landing on his in shock. Wyatt shrugged, and then turned and walked into the crowd. He felt unsteady. He’d nearly revealed everything to that woman—Kat—and for what? Because he identified with her? Pitied her? He couldn’t be sure.

One thing he knew, he had to stay away from her. Those dark, piercing eyes might be his undoing.

He kept walking until he found himself in an empty hallway. There, he stopped to take a breath and get ahold of himself. His mission was far more important than anything else. There was nothing he wouldn’t do to get the dirt on McCready, regardless of what a woman he didn’t know thought of him.

That reminder drilled into his brain, Wyatt started opening doors, exploring the hallway he’d found himself in. It was only a small part of the palatial building McCready lived in. When he’d driven up to the house he guessed there were about fifteen bedrooms on the floors above him.

It would take him weeks to search the whole place. His plan to get in and out as quickly as possible took a sharp U-turn. Not that he expected this to be easy, but now he knew for certain he needed an excuse to stay here as long as possible.

It was a long shot, that McCready kept records. There wouldn’t be any point, not really. But since the other option was to have McCready or one of his goons to confess what Wyatt wanted to know straight to his face, he figured he had a better shot of finding a smoking gun in McCready’s house.

One of the doors opened onto something that looked like an office. A huge desk dominated the opposite side of the room, the surface strangely empty. Not even a pen. Bookcases lined the walls, filled with impressive-looking books Wyatt doubted had ever been cracked open.

Wyatt slipped inside and beelined for the desk. He opened the drawers, but they were empty, so he turned to the filing cabinet. A few bills, but nothing pertaining to McCready’s illegal businesses. He was about to start searching the book when a shift in the air told him the door had opened at his back.

Wyatt spun around. Relief flooded him when he saw it was Kat, not McCready or one of his men. But at the furious look on her face he reassessed his position, eyeing her warily.

“What are you doing?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Looking for the bathroom?” he tried.

Kat rolled her eyes. “Try again.”

Wyatt took a deep breath and strode towards her. “It’s none of your damn business,” he said, voice harder than he’d meant it to be. But he didn’t take it back, even as she straightened, eyes darting nervously.

“I’ll tell McCready,” she hissed.

“No, you won’t,” he replied, more nonchalantly than he felt.

“And why’s that?”

“Because you were meant to be watching me.”

Surprise flashed in her eyes, and Wyatt knew he was right.

“You weren’t just meant to serve my whims, you were supposed to keep an eye on the new guy. So, when McCready finds out I slipped away from you, I won’t be the only one punished.”

“As if McCready would punish me for exposing you,” she scoffed. “That would mean I was doing my job.”

“So why aren’t you calling for him right now?”

She hesitated. “I have my reasons.”

“You hate it here. You hate him.”

She glanced up at something on the ceiling above his shoulder. Wyatt turned, but it only looked like a motion sensor. He turned back to ask her about it, but she shook her head.

“I’m here, that’s what matters.” She crossed her arms defensively over her chest.

Wyatt stepped forward. “It doesn’t have to be. Help me.”

She stepped back, shaking her head. “I can’t. I won’t.”

“If you don’t, I’ll tell McCready you—” he broke off, unable to think of a suitable threat.

Kat glared at him, then sighed, defeated. She stepped forward, closing the gap between them, and pointed a finger into his chest. “I don’t give a shit how much trouble you get yourself into, but don’t drag me down with you. I’ve only got a few months left in this hellhole, and I’ll be damned if you get me in trouble and add more time to my sentence. So keep your mouth shut, and I won’t tell, got it?”

Sentence? What the fuck kind of nightmare was McCready running here? Wyatt swallowed thickly. He couldn’t allow himself to think about it, think about others. He needed to keep his eye on the prize.

“Got it,” Wyatt said, then pushed past her into the hall.

She grabbed his arm, stopping him before he could go three steps.

He turned back to her, their gazes meeting as that same electricity raced through his veins. She really was beautiful, more so than he’d first thought, but it was the personality in her eyes that really drew him. He knew for a fact she didn’t belong here, in this world, any more than he did. They were both pretending for their own reasons, and that gave him a sense of kinship with her.

“Whatever you’re doing,” she whispered, leaning closer. “Be careful. McCready is not forgiving of those that betray him. I’ve seen it.”

Wyatt searched her eyes, wondering why she was bothering to warn him. His heart beat faster, oddly grateful this stranger was concerned for his welfare.

He nodded to show he understood, and she let go of his arm and slid past him. She disappeared around the corner, and Wyatt blew out a breath the second he could no longer see her. It was like the air was charged in her presence, seizing his lungs.

He shook himself, preparing to re-enter the party.

And make friends with McCready, the man he was sure murdered his brother.

 

 

 

Kat slipped back into the party, keeping an eye on Wyatt as he prowled around the room. He was an attractive man, tall and broad-shouldered. His muscles weren’t the brutish, over-sized ones for show, like Spider—McCready’s favoured fighter—had. But Wyatt was well-built. An intensity radiated off him, as if he was focused and present in the moment. He saw the world as it was, saw her, and didn’t shy away from her. Not that he could know who she really was, the things she’d done.

Kat shook herself. Now wasn’t the time to be thinking such things, regardless of whatever spark of attraction they’d shared—or, at least, that she’d experienced—in the office McCready kept for show on the ground floor. She was too close to her goal to get distracted, particularly by a man who was clearly trouble. She had no plans to get caught up in the crossfire of whatever he was planning.

Wyatt rested his back against the wall and settled in, looking like he was planning to stay a while. His eyes kept darting back to McCready, narrowed and watchful.

What was this man’s game? If his snooping was anything to go by, he was after dirt on McCready. But why? And for who?

He could be a cop, she supposed. Or an independent contractor. McCready had his fingers in a lot of illegal pies, and she had no doubt there were many people who would love to take him down.

She’d seen Wyatt fight the last few months, and he didn’t fight like a cop. He fought like he’d had proper training, in some kind of martial arts. Though Kat wouldn’t admit she’d been watching him closely, she’d become aware of his muscular body, tattoos decorating his chest. She wasn’t ashamed to admit she’d noticed he was an attractive man. He was a joy to watch in the ring, too, quick and smooth with his movements. Not that she knew much about fighting, but she’d been with McCready long enough to see dozens of fighters come and go. Few lasted more than a month.

The ones that did were well-trained and ruthless in the ring. Like Wyatt.

The smart ones got out before they were caught in McCready’s web. The man’s lifestyle was a powerful lure. He offered money, women, and rewards in exchange for loyalty. A loyalty that had to be proven constantly and, often, violently. Kat knew most of McCready’s men had killed for him, though she’d never personally witnessed it. The men McCready selected obviously thought it was a worthy trade.

Wyatt seemed too smart to fall for McCready’s traps. Yet here he was, ingratiating himself into the man’s favour. He definitely had an ulterior motive.

One Kat had no intention of interfering with.

Just because she worked for McCready, didn’t mean it was by choice. And it certainly didn’t mean she was loyal to him. If someone else wanted to risk his neck to destroy McCready, without risking hers, then she wouldn’t get in his way.

Not unless it benefitted her, of course.

And her reluctance to expose Wyatt’s secrets—including his trip into McCready’s office—had nothing to do with the way he looked at her; like she was an actual human being, not a moving sex doll. He’d barely even looked at her breasts. It was refreshing, and strangely sexy. Though she hated to admit that such a low bar of human decency was enough for her to like a man. She’d been in McCready’s world for too long, it had skewed her perspective, particularly on men.

But the way Wyatt had looked at her made her feel…normal. Desired, but not in an aggressive, unpleasant way. And it made her think about something she hadn’t allowed herself to consider for a long time: what she’d do when she was free.

A presence shifted beside her. Kat glanced over to see McCready at her elbow.

“What do you think of the new guy?” he asked her, watching her carefully for a reaction.

Kat kept her face blank. “I haven’t decided yet.” She didn’t think he’s hot and respectful would be the right answer.

McCready eyed her for a long moment, and Kat’s heart pounded in fear. Could he know she was protecting Wyatt, if only a little? If he found out, she’d be six feet under in a heartbeat. McCready valued loyalty above all else.

“What gives you pause?” he asked.

She tried to think of something to placate McCready, something that wouldn’t reveal Wyatt’s…whatever he was doing. “I need to know more about him. He may end up being too difficult to control if we can’t find leverage.”

McCready gave her an approving look that made Kat’s skin crawl. She locked down the feeling so it wouldn’t show.

“In that case, keep watching him. Find out his weaknesses.”

“Of course.”

His hand slid around and squeezed her ass, and Kat swallowed bile.

“I might make something of you, yet, Kat.”

Not fucking likely.

She smiled. “You’ve only got a few months left.” It was a genuinely happy thought—a beacon in her darkest times.

His eyes narrowed with displeasure at the reminder. “We’ll see about that.”

Sudden panic gripped Kat at his words. She’d been relying on that deadline. It had been the light at the end of the tunnel for the last five years, the only thing keeping her sane. The knowledge she would be free. He couldn’t take that away from her. She wouldn’t let him.

“A deal’s a deal,” she gritted out. The party still pulsed around them, the dim lights casting intimate shadows across the room. But Kat barely noticed any of it as she stared at McCready, waiting for his answer with a breath trapped in her throat.

“And yet I hold all the cards,” he reminded her, his hand tightening on her ass as he dragged her closer to him, showing he was in control. “What could you do if I simply said, ‘no’?” He said this idly. Not like he’d made up his mind, but more like he was considering the option of keeping her under his thumb, just for the fun of it.

Kat let out a long breath, struggling to keep her emotions off her face. Her hand clenched into a fist and she had a desperate urge to punch the smug smile from his face. But she knew that would end in her death, quicker than she could blink, so she slowly forced her fist to unclench.

“I’d disappear,” she said simply.

“And your sister?”

“Her, too.” They’d planned for that exact eventuality, just in case.

He pressed his lips into a thin line. He wasn’t pleased by her answer, but this was a game they’d long played. Kat always toed the line of the letter of his rules, not the spirit. She made herself useful enough that he wouldn’t kill her, or otherwise punish her horribly. But she made herself troublesome enough that he wouldn’t attempt to keep her, or make her his own personal slave.

It was a fine line she’d walked, but it had kept her alive for this long. She stepped forward until only a thin sliver of air remained between them, and ran a finger down his silk Hermes tie. “Besides, you wouldn’t go back on your word, would you? I know you’re a man of honour.”

McCready followed her gaze as she traced her finger along his tie, then shifted his gaze to her breasts, barely contained in the tight gold bikini he made her wear. Eventually, his gaze made it back to her face.

“Maybe if you make it worth my while.”

Kat’s stomach turned unpleasantly. “Perhaps,” she said lightly. “But if I let it be known you require additional payments to honour your agreements, how many of these women would stick around to the end of their contracts, do you think? And how many new girls do you think you could lure into your trap if they know the servitude they sign on for is indefinite?” She held his gaze, her eyes hard to show she meant it. “And I know more than enough secrets you wouldn’t want public.”

McCready smiled. “What other choice do they have?” he asked.

“Death,” Kat replied savagely. “Most would rather die than have that outcome. And you need us to keep your friends happy.” She indicated to the room at large, where the women entertained the men he’d invited into his home. She wasn’t lying when she said he needed the women. The only problem was there were more desperate women out there, and always would be. It didn’t matter if one woman left, or was killed, or refused his offer. There’d always be another to take her place.

“You’re feisty tonight,” McCready commented. “Getting brave in your final months.”

Kat smiled, her first genuine one of the evening. “As long as they are still my last months.”

Before he could contradict her, Kat turned and walked away, heading directly to where Wyatt was stationed near the opposite wall.

She’d get out of here, no matter what it took. Whether she had to help Wyatt, or betray him, she would escape McCready’s clutches.

No matter what.

 

 

 

Wyatt stepped into the cage, eyeing Spider in the opposing corner. Spider cracked his knuckles and grinned, clearly eager for this fight.

Wyatt gave him a once-over and then dismissed him, searching for McCready in the crowd. He stretched, even though he’d done so already while watching the previous fight, so he wouldn’t look like he was scoping the place out.

He needed to know what was expected of him in this fight. What would make McCready more likely to invite him into his inner circle? If he beat McCready’s champion, Spider, thereby proving himself strongest? Or if he lost, and kept the pecking order the way it was?

McCready’s expression offered no clues. He was guarded, watching the cage with his arms folded across his chest, risking the seams on his deep red suit where they strained against his muscled arms.

Well, then Wyatt would have to guess what would most please his new boss. Surely a display of superior strength would show he was more valuable? If there were only limited spaces in the inner circle, someone would have to be thrown out, and Spider was as good as any. Better, even, since he was McCready’s current favourite.

Decision made, Wyatt now searched the crowd for a different face. One he hadn’t been able to get out of his mind since the party a week before. Kat. Surely she was here, keeping the audience plied with liquor and an attractive woman to ogle.

He recognised a number of faces from the party. It seemed McCready had a core group of patrons, like he had an inner circle of fighters. If last weekend had been anything to go by, the two were inextricably entwined.

Wyatt finally spotted Kat on the other side of the cage to McCready. She was as beautiful as ever, in her gold hotpants and bikini top and girl-next-door face. He shouldn’t be noticing that, shouldn’t be noticing her. But he couldn’t tear his eyes away.

She was smiling at a white-haired man in his sixties, bending to offer him champagne. This gave the object of her attention a perfect view of her cleavage, as she was no doubt aware, and also gave the men behind her a solid view of her ass. All were taking advantage of her position.

One man even reached out to touch her ass, and a powerful surge of jealousy rose within Wyatt. He nearly growled at the sight of the man groping her, though she barely reacted, just froze slightly, then turned back to the man to say something before returning her gaze to the man with the champagne.

Her lack of reaction made the anger boil stronger. She had to put up with that—and likely much worse—and it made his blood heat in fury. She didn’t deserve this, no woman did. So why was she here? Why couldn’t she walk away?

A whistle blew, distracting him before he could go charging off into the crowd to rescue Kat. He turned to face Spider, his hands up and ready while his mind was still on the woman fifteen feet away. He shouldn’t feel this way about her. They’d barely met. He knew nothing about her. And even if he did, she was a distraction he couldn’t afford.

He’d seen how close she’d been to McCready the night of the party, too, whispering together, barely any space between them. He couldn’t trust her, no matter what she said about being forced to be there. She’d basically admitted she was a plant for McCready, meant to watch his every move. He had to stay as far away from her as possible, both to keep his plans under wraps, and for his own sanity.

Spider swung a punch in Wyatt’s direction and he ducked just in time. In retaliation, he aimed a strike at Spider’s solar plexus, more out of instinct than any real thought. He needed to focus, get his head in the game, or Spider would wipe the floor with him.

Even though the fight had started, the crowd beyond the cage was silent as they watched, making the sound of every brutal blow echo through the room.

When Wyatt had competed in martial arts tournaments as a teen, he’d become used to having an excited crowd on the sidelines, cheering the fighters on. It had been far easier to keep his energy for the bout when he’d sparred for an invested crowd. Now, though, he had to battle against the unease that the rich people who watched him created with their silence and watchful gaze.

Spider took barely a second to recover from Wyatt’s blow before he kneed Wyatt in the stomach. Wyatt doubled over, sucking in the air that had expelled from his lungs.

While Wyatt was distracted, Spider got three strong blows on Wyatt’s face, making his head swim. A sharp pain on his forehead told Wyatt at least one cut had opened, and the slick slide of blood at his temple told him it was bad.

Wyatt slipped away from Spider’s grasping hands as the man grabbed for a fistful of Wyatt’s hair. He tried to land a return blow, but Spider dodged it easily. Since he was already lower to the ground, and rapidly gaining back his breath, Wyatt crouched and swung his leg around, sweeping Spider’s ankles out from under him.

Spider landed with a thud, coughing as dust rose from the floor.

Wyatt was on him in an instant, ignoring his spinning head, pounding his fists into the man’s most vulnerable areas.

Spider twisted, trying to escape the blows, but Wyatt kept at him. Spider swiftly changed tactics, gripping first Wyatt’s left wrist, then his right, using his superior arm strength against him.

Wyatt struggled, but Spider threw Wyatt to the side, so he landed hard on the blood-stained concrete beneath him. Spider tried to pin Wyatt with his legs, but Wyatt had had enough. He brought his knees against his chest, then struck out with his feet, landing them solidly on Spider’s stomach.

Spider tumbled back on his ass and Wyatt pressed his advantage. He lashed out with a kick, striking Spider across the cheek with a brutal blow.

Spider flopped to the floor, out cold.

Wyatt lay back for a moment until his head stopped spinning, staring at the fluorescent overhead lights until his eyes blurred. Then, he slowly got to his feet while the crowd clapped politely. He raised an arm in triumph, waved, and then stepped out of the cage. Spider groaned on the ground behind him, but Wyatt didn’t spare him a look. Instead, he focused on walking straight as he headed to Doc’s office at the back of the warehouse where they staged their fights.

“Heya, Doc,” Wyatt greeted the man inside the makeshift doctor’s surgery. Doc was probably in his sixties, but looked older, the lines on his face deepening more each time Wyatt saw him.

No one knew Doc’s story, but if it was anything like all the other people who McCready surrounded himself with, it wasn’t a pleasant one.

Doc gave him a small smile. “You win?” he asked, as he always did.

Wyatt nodded. “Feeling a little woozy, though,” he admitted.

Doc frowned. “I’ll have a look at that. You get some hits to the head?”

Wyatt was about to ask how Doc knew when he remembered the cut on his face. He reached a hand up to touch it and his fingers came away sticky.

“Yeah,” he replied, moving farther into the room to sink onto the white plastic chair Doc had waiting for his patients. “Crowd liked it, though,” he commented. At least they’d clapped at the end.

Doc gave him a look. “They always do.” He swabbed at the cut and Wyatt winced in pain.

“Bloodthirsty lot,” Wyatt said, trying for humour, but Doc didn’t disagree.

Doc’s hand shook slightly as he reached for his small flashlight. Wyatt didn’t comment, waiting patiently while Doc clicked it on and shone it into his eyes. He moved it back and forth a few times before nodding slightly in satisfaction.

“All good?” Wyatt asked.

“Yes, let me just finish cleaning you up and get a patch on that cut.”

He was about to do that when Spider stumbled into the room. Seeing the only chair was occupied, he grunted and then slid to the floor right next to the door. Wyatt was sure the only thing keeping him sitting upright was the wall at his back.

Doc hesitated.

“Him first,” Wyatt said, taking pity on his opponent as he eased out of the room’s only chair. “He clearly needs it more than me.”

Doc didn’t argue, just turned to Spider. He tried to help Spider to his feet, but Doc was frail even for his age, and Spider was a big man. Wyatt sighed, then bent to sling Spider’s arm over his shoulder and mostly-carried Spider to the chair.

He plunked him down unceremoniously and then stood back.

Doc glanced at him in apology. “I might be here a while.”

“I’ll wait outside,” he replied as he slipped out the door and into a short hallway that only opened to three rooms. One was Doc’s. One, he knew, was McCready’s, but he’d never been in there, thankfully. And the other was empty, used by the fighters to warm up before their fights, away from the crowds.

Past that was the door to the outside, and Wyatt’s means of escape. He was so close, and yet he couldn’t step through.

Disappointment filled Wyatt. He’d been hoping to leave as soon as he could to avoid being invited to another of McCready’s parties, but it didn’t look like that would happen. He should go if he got invited, he knew. He’d have a better chance of enacting his plan if he was closer to McCready. But the last party had been awful, and even a shower when he’d gotten home hadn’t cleansed his skin of the filth and sleaze he’d felt was coating it. If Wyatt managed to escape McCready before the man asked, he knew he wouldn’t offend his new boss and risk his wrath. Hopefully Doc would be quick with Spider.

Wyatt idly wondered if Doc would give him a doctor’s note to excuse him from the party, then smiled to himself at the joke.

“What’s that smile for?” asked a woman’s voice from his left.

Wyatt’s gut clenched in anticipation even before he raised his head, knowing who stood beside him.

Kat was still wearing her gold outfit, but she’d pulled her hair back into a casual ponytail, and the style made her look younger, like a college cheerleader or something. He wondered how old she really was. He suspected she was in her mid-to-late-twenties, but her eyes made her look older. She’d seen some things. Or, worse, experienced them.

She raised her eyebrows and Wyatt remembered she’d ask him a question. His skin prickled in embarrassment at how distracting he found her, remembering the moment in the cage where Spider had nearly got the better of him.

“Nothing, just thinking to myself,” he answered. “Are the fights over?”

She nodded. “Chen won the last one.”

Wyatt nodded. He liked Chen, what he knew of him. Unfortunately, he had to stay away from the fighters he liked—none of which were in McCready’s crew—and stick to the assholes like Spider instead. There was no chance of McCready adopting Wyatt into the inner circle if he didn’t think Wyatt was one of them.

“What are you still doing here, then?” he asked, and wondered if she’d stuck around for him. His heart flipped at the thought, while his head berated him. She was on McCready’s side, and a distraction he couldn’t afford. He needed to remember that.

“Delaying,” she said idly. She meant the party, and he almost smiled again at the similarity of her thoughts to his. If, that was, she was telling the truth.

“You?” she asked.

“Doc needs to patch me up, but Spider’s in much worse shape, so I’m waiting.”

A slow smile crossed her face. “Well, since I’m delaying, how about I help you instead? Then when McCready asks where I’ve been, I can tell him the truth.”

Wyatt swallowed, the thought of her standing close, putting her hands on him, making his heart thump in excitement. No matter what he told himself, why he shouldn’t feel that way, his blood still pounded through his veins with more enthusiasm than the situation warranted.

“Well?” she prompted.

“Sure,” Wyatt replied, attempting to sound casual and failing utterly.

This would be a problem.

 

 

Kat left Wyatt in the hall and slipped back into Doc’s room. Doc gave her a quick smile when he saw her taking supplies, but didn’t comment. It wasn’t the first time she’d played his nurse, but usually it was under even less pleasant circumstances.

Kat gathered the gauze, butterfly stitches, and other items into her arms and turned back to the door. Spider’s eyes bored a hole into her back the entire time she was in the room, but she didn’t spare him a glance, confident he wouldn’t try anything with Doc between the two of them and Wyatt right outside.

She took a second to breathe deeply, steeling herself to return to Wyatt and his watchful stare. She didn’t know what it was about him, but he affected her more than a man had in a long time. He was handsome, yes. But she knew as well as anyone a handsome face could hide a loathsome interior. Maybe that was it. He seemed decent. Or at least, he wasn’t transparently evil.

A pretty low bar for him to cross, but given the quality of men she’d been forced to spend time with for the last few years, it was a welcome change.

But not welcome enough for her to throw her plans out the window for him. No man was that handsome, that good, to make her want to sacrifice her future for him.

With that thought firmly in mind, Kat strode out the door and led Wyatt into the empty room across the hall without looking at him. It was a dark, dingy room, a mirror of Doc’s makeshift surgery. The light flickered on when Wyatt flipped the switch, but the glow wasn’t strong enough to penetrate the gloom.

“Grab some chairs,” she told Wyatt. He set out two, then lowered himself into the one facing the room. Kat sat in the chair opposite him, sliding it closer when she saw she was too far back. Her thighs slid between his, not touching, but she was intensely aware of his hard legs cradling her knees.

She finally raised her eyes to meet his gaze. He was watching her carefully, and Kat swallowed. His eyes saw too much.

She began cleaning the wound that had opened, focusing on her task rather than his proximity. But still her skin prickled in awareness. She had no doubt his eyes were still on her, studying her.

Her heartbeat sped up, like a drumbeat increasing its tempo, rolling ever forward.

“You’ve done this before,” Wyatt commented.

“Yes,” Kat admitted. She didn’t tell him she’d almost become a nurse in her former life. Graduation had been only a few months away when she’d had to uproot her life and place herself in McCready’s clutches.

“Why are you here?” Wyatt asked in a low voice.

Kat met his gaze again, but he was too close for her peace of mind. She couldn’t look away, caught by the expression on his face. The curiosity, the veiled interest. She licked her lips, and his gaze followed the movement, growing darker as he did. He tilted forward, then caught himself, blinking, and leaned away from her.

Kat’s heart still thundered in her chest, but now her skin was tight with awareness, and her mouth was bone dry. Damn him and the effect he had on her.

“So?” he asked, and Kat had a hard time remembering what he’d asked her.

“Here in this room? In this situation? Or as a philosophical ‘why are you on this Earth?’ kind of here?”

“I’m sure any of those would have a fascinating answer. But I meant, why are you treating my wounds? I could have waited.”

Her cheeks flushed. She couldn’t admit to him that part of the reason was she wanted to spend more time with him. But mostly, she was here on McCready’s orders. She’d been told to discover Wyatt’s secrets, so that’s exactly what she planned to do. Whether or not she’d pass that information on to McCready would depend on how useful she found the information for her own purposes.

“I told you, I don’t want to go to the party.”

“So why are you?”

“I have to,” she said simply.

“Why?” he pressed.

Kat scowled. “It’s happening where I live.” Not a real answer, but hopefully one that would distract him.

Wyatt frowned in confusion for a moment before his face cleared. “You live in McCready’s mansion?”

She nodded. “We all do.”

“Wh—”

“Don’t ask me ‘why?’ again,” she interrupted. She pressed the wound cleaner firmly into his skin to underline her point and he hissed in pain.

He snapped his mouth shut and narrowed his eyes, studying her even more closely. Kat tried to ignore him, focusing instead on pulling out the butterfly stitches she needed to stick to his head.

When he didn’t say anything for a long moment, Kat decided to turn the tables. “Why are you here?”

“You mean, in this room? Or in this situation? Or in a philosophical sense…” He trailed off with a teasing smile.

Kat rolled her eyes. “I mean here, buddying up to McCready.”

Wyatt shrugged. “Why do you want to know?”

“Curiosity?” she suggested.

He chuckled, and her hands on the stitches slipped at his movement, trailing over his cheek. Her stomach flipped at the unintentionally intimate contact. His skin was still slicked with sweat from his fight, a trait Kat found oddly attractive.

“More likely you’re trying to get more information for McCready.”

She neither confirmed nor denied his statement. “You say that like you have something to hide.”

A slow smile curled against his lips. “Maybe I do.”

“McCready wouldn’t like it.”

“McCready doesn’t have to know.”

Their gazes held in a charged moment. He was asking her to keep his secrets, and Kat was so, so tempted to agree. To work with him to put his plan into action, which she could only assume was to bring McCready down.

But she couldn’t risk it.

She glanced away. “Don’t tell me,” she begged. “I can’t guarantee I’ll keep your secrets.”

It went against everything she’d planned when she came in here, but she suddenly didn’t want to have to decide whether or not to betray this man. If he didn’t tell her his secrets, then she couldn’t pass them on to McCready, or use them herself to manipulate him. They were safe with him.

Wyatt’s finger stroked her chin, coaxing her face up so their eyes met again. “Why not?” he asked on a whisper. “You don’t want to be here any more than I do.”

She smiled sadly. “Not all of us have a choice.”

He leaned forward, suddenly urgent. “What’s keeping you? Maybe I could—”

“No.” She shook her head. “You can’t.”

He scowled. “So which is it? Are you McCready’s pawn? His sidekick? Or his enemy?”

She straightened her spine, frustrated by the judgement flashing in his eyes. Who was he to criticise her for what she was doing? He didn’t know her.

“None. Or any, as I need to be.”

“If that were true, you’d have heard my secrets and used them as you saw fit.” He was studying her again with that intense gaze which made her feel so exposed.

“Maybe,” she conceded. “But I’m not a bad person. I do what I must to protect myself. If you’re here working against McCready, I won’t stop you. But I won’t help you, either.”

“You’re a complicated woman,” he mused after a moment.

Kat had nothing to say to that. Instead, she finished with his wound and stood. “I need to go.”

“Back to McCready?” he asked, a trace of bitterness in his voice.

“Yes,” she agreed. “Back to the life I’m trying to survive in. I’ll see you around.”

She swept out of the room without giving Wyatt another glance. A longing welled up in her, a desperate wanting for her to turn back and throw herself at his feet, begging for help. To take her away from McCready, to destroy the man who’d caused her so much misery. But she’d learned a long time ago there was no one she could rely on.

Only herself.

 

 

Wyatt’s apartment was small, poorly-maintained, and in an area not known for its gentility. He stepped inside and let out a heavy sigh. Just as he’d left it.

He missed his old apartment. It hadn’t been much, but it had been a decent size and in an okay neighbourhood. But now that he didn’t have a regular income, he’d had to downsize. McCready’s fights only paid so much.

Hopefully, when all this was over, he could go back to his old life as if nothing had ever happened. But he was beginning to think that wouldn’t be possible. The longer he was in this world—McCready’s world—the harder it was for him to remember his old life. His friends, his family. He hadn’t seen his parents for months. And he wouldn’t, not until he had answers about what had happened to his brother.

Not that they’d asked him to do this. They hadn’t wanted to lose two sons. But Wyatt couldn’t face them knowing he’d failed his little brother. He’d been too distracted to notice what had been happening to the most important person in his life.

And he could never forgive himself for that.

Wyatt set his duffel bag on the floor and strode to the sideboard—a remnant from his larger apartment he hadn’t wanted to part with. It didn’t fit in the space, but he liked it. And he still wanted to believe this was all only temporary. That if he held on to pieces of his past, he could believe he’d go back to the life and job he’d once loved.

On his sideboard was a single photo, in a cheap frame. It was the last photo of him and his brother together, taken right after Dean had come home from war for the final time.

Wyatt picked it up and stroked his thumb over the plastic, as he did most nights. It reminded him why he was here, what he was fighting for.

He and his brother had been close, once. They’d grown up two years apart, and Dean had followed Wyatt everywhere. When Wyatt had started to learn martial arts, Dean had been right behind him. Eventually, they’d started competing against each other in tournaments.

But they’d never let it get in the way of their friendship.

They were so similar—both thrill seekers who enjoyed the rush of adrenaline and friendly competition.

And then, about a year ago, something changed. Wyatt still didn’t understand exactly what it was. Maybe something had happened on his last tour. But whatever it was, his brother had started coming to family dinners with cuts and bruises over him. When Wyatt had confronted his brother, Dean had laughed it off, saying he’d got the wounds in some extreme sport or another.

At first, Wyatt had almost believed him. But when Dean missed a dinner, Wyatt went to check on him, and found him bandaged and bleeding on the floor of his apartment.

After Wyatt had cleaned him up—and possibly saved his life—Dean had finally admitted he was part of an illegal fight ring, but he didn’t mention any names. Two weeks after that night, his brother missed another family dinner. Wyatt had gone straight to his brother’s place, fearing the worst, but he hadn’t been there. And he never returned.

Wyatt had immediately started investigating his brother’s disappearance, using all the resources he had at his disposal as a cop, which were considerable. Eventually he’d found McCready’s name through some old informants. It’d been the first real lead he’d had in months. But he’d known it wouldn’t be easy to find McCready, let alone make the man trust him.

Desperate, Wyatt did the only thing he could think of. He abandoned his old life—already shaky because of his obsession with finding out what happened to Dean—and started a new one. The kind of life that wouldn’t make McCready suspicious. And he put out feelers through those same contacts, claiming he was looking for work. The kind that used his fists.

It had worked, and McCready had invited Wyatt to fight.

Wyatt wasn’t sure if McCready knew who he really was—and who his brother was. He couldn’t imagine so, given that he wasn’t dead yet, but McCready was known to play long games with people’s lives, to string them along for his own amusement. Still so far things seemed to be running about as well as he could expect.

Though the fact that he hadn’t found a hint of his brother yet meant Wyatt’s hopes were fading fast. He’d known, even in the early days, there was a strong possibility his brother was dead. But either way, he needed to know.

Wyatt set the photograph down and pulled himself out of the memories. He missed his brother with a fierce ache that mingled with his guilt over losing him. He should have done more, paid more attention. Had his brother needed money? If so, why? Or had he simply been addicted to the adrenaline of the fights?

Wyatt didn’t know, and he had to find out.

He pulled his phone out of his back pocket and scrolled through the contacts until he found the one he wanted.

“Detective Albany,” answered the voice on the other end of the phone.

“You really should check your caller ID before you answer,” Wyatt admonished with a grin. “You never know what kind of riffraff might call.”

“Oh, like you, you mean?” Darrell replied with a laugh. “Well, too late for that.”

“You’d miss me anyway,” Wyatt said.

There was a pause. “I already do.”

Wyatt sighed. “Yeah.” The joking mood from seconds before collapsed in a rush. “So how are things at the station?”

“The same. I almost envy you leaving, man.”

Wyatt scoffed. “No you don’t.”

Darrell laughed. “No, I guess I don’t.”

They were silent for a minute. Wyatt pictured Darrell as he’d seen him so many times. He was African American, and a few inches shorter than Wyatt, with close-cropped hair and an eternally-rumpled suit. Right now, Wyatt would bet his whole week’s winnings on Darrell being in his chair in the bullpen, leaning back with his feet on the desk, a cup of the sludge they called coffee at the station sitting at his elbow.

“So how goes your search?” Darrell asked lightly.

“I’m getting closer,” he told his former partner. “I was invited to a party last week.”

“That’s what you’re doing? Going to parties? Come on, man.” He said it teasingly, so Wyatt laughed obligingly.

“You should see these things. Drugs, alcohol, women. The whole nine yards.”

“Sounds like a real cakewalk.”

“Honestly the place was skeevy. I needed a shower after. You know all those busts Vice did on those kingpins? This guy is like a suped-up version of them.”

“Sounds like a peach.”

“He’s pretty scummy. But hopefully he won’t be around much longer. Not if I have anything to say about it. Some senators might even go with him.”

“Really? Man, you have all the fun.”

Wyatt laughed hollowly. “Nah. It’ll all be collateral damage once I find my brother.” Wyatt paused for a second. “Speaking of, has there been any—”

“Bodies?” Darrell interrupted. “No unidentified ones that fit your brother’s general description. You know I’d call you if there was.”

Wyatt swallowed, torn between relief and sadness. He wanted this to be over, whatever the outcome.

“Okay, thanks man. I appreciate you keeping me updated.”

Darrell snorted. “Of course. I got your back.”

“I know. I know.” Wyatt let out a breath. He missed his friend, and his life. He had to hope he wouldn’t be too damaged to return to it one day.

“So, tell me more about these women you mentioned…” Darrell said jokingly, and the two men fell back into banter.

It was good to touch base with his old life again, and Wyatt knew he had to push harder on McCready, no matter the cost to himself. He needed to get out of this world, and to do that he had to know what happened to his brother.

Whatever it took.

 

 

“Anyone watch any good movies lately?” Tori asked, flicking through the cable stations with her remote.

Kat ignored the question, focusing on her book, but a few of the other women called out some titles. They were in the lounge in McCready’s mansion. It was a rare downtime for all of them, when McCready wasn’t there, and neither were any of his goons. So, Kat and the other women weren’t required to wait hand and foot on anyone.

She didn’t know what McCready was doing, and she didn’t care, as long as it gave her a few hours of peace.

It wasn’t that she disliked the other women, she just didn’t know them. And it was deliberate on her part that she kept herself separate. She never knew when she’d have to betray one of the women, or when one would suddenly disappear from the mansion, never to be seen again.

It didn’t pay to get close.

So, Kat kept to herself as best she could. Still, it was hard to focus on her book. Between the chattering women and thoughts of Wyatt, Kat couldn’t maintain her concentration.

He’d been occupying her thoughts a lot, lately. She’d spent some time speculating on what he was doing here, certainly. Undercover cop, maybe? Or was it for personal reasons?

But mostly her thoughts were filled to distraction with his broad shoulders, his muscles, his intense gaze, and the way he made her skin tingle. It had been a long time since she’d felt that way about a man, and she didn’t know what to make of it now. Why was he so different?

It was probably because he had the potential to be semi-decent. A low bar to get over, but given who she spent most of her time with, a refreshing change nonetheless.

Question was, what did she intend to do about it?

Nothing, that’s what.

She had to stay focused on herself. If she got caught up with Wyatt, and whatever he may or may not be planning, then she could be stuck in this mansion for far longer than she’d anticipated. With mere months on her sentence left, she couldn’t risk that now.

And, more to the point, there was no guarantee Wyatt was as good or honourable as Kat wanted to believe. If she placed her faith in him, there was every chance she could get burned. She’d learned that lesson before. Men rarely turned out to be who she wanted them to be.

Yet no matter how many times she told herself this, Kat was still distracted by thoughts of what it might be like to sleep with Wyatt. For his hard body to slide against hers, those intense eyes boring into her own. She had no doubt the focus with which he often regarded her would translate to the bedroom. That he would pay attention to her every move, every gasp, every moan in order to give her maximum pleasure. That he would see her, and not accept the blank mask she wore for McCready’s friends.

The thought both frightened and thrilled her. What would it be like to let go? To be herself? Focus on her own pleasure instead of that of the man pumping away on top of her?

What would it be like to be with a man who refused to let her retreat behind a mask? Who knew how to play her body like a master musician and revelled in her pleasure?

She couldn’t remember.

And no matter how many times she berated herself for jumping to conclusions about Wyatt, and found herself putting him on a pedestal like that, she couldn’t seem to help herself.

Maybe she needed the hope, the fantasy, to get her through these last months. To believe there was something better out there for her when all this would be over. A good man, even a family. With children and a husband and normalcy. And excellent sex, too, of course. If she could have all that in her future, then she’d know she hadn’t been too broken by what had happened to her the last five years.

It was certainly a nicer thing to think about than McCready and his friends, so Kat didn’t hate herself too much for indulging in the dreams and possibilities.

She hadn’t had those in a long, long time.

The door opened, interrupting her musings. She automatically closed her book and sat up straighter, anticipating McCready’s return. All the other women had done the same, Tori shutting off the TV before they turned with bracing expressions on their faces.

McCready stepped through the door, Spider and Weston flanking either side of him and slightly behind.

He stopped a few paces into the room and Kat held her breath. She couldn’t get a read on his face. Would this be a good thing or a bad thing, whatever he was here to announce?

“Hello, girls,” he greeted them with a smile.

They nodded and murmured in return, all eyeing their boss with varying amounts of wariness.

“I have a new friend for you,” he said, and then stepped aside, his arm out in the classic gesture of reveal.

Only then did Kat see Spider and Weston hadn’t been flanking McCready, but a young girl. She was squeezed between them, a meaty hand gripping each of her upper arms. Her head hung forward, and she peered at the room through her lashes. Blonde hair hung low, obscuring her face further. Her limbs were shaking, and Kat was willing to bet that if Spider and Weston hadn’t been holding her up, she would have collapsed.

She looked shy, horrified, and scared out of her mind at the surroundings she now found herself in.

Kat’s heart immediately went out to her. She tried to shut down the empathy, to remember that she was only a few months away from her escape, but it was no use. She remembered being in that position, new and naïve and terrified at what would come next.

But even worse, the new girl reminded Kat of her sister, Larissa. The person she was here to protect.

She blinked, pulling herself away from the memories of her old life before they consumed her. She focused on McCready, realising he was saying something.

“This is Ruthie. I’m aware all you girls know the drill, so I won’t reiterate the rules. I’ve let her know what’s expected of her, but please remind her if you feel it’s needed.” His eyes found each and every one of them in the room, and Kat shivered at the message in them. Keep her in line.

“Now, which of you wants to take her to her room?”

Kat didn’t want to. She told herself again and again not to say yes, knowing it would open a floodgate. But the instant Spider opened his mouth as he stared lasciviously at Ruthie, Kat leapt to her feet.

“I will,” she declared.

McCready raised an eyebrow in surprise. “You?”

Kat swallowed, but she didn’t retract the offer. She knew taking Ruthie under her wing would mean increased scrutiny for her. McCready was already suspicious because the move was so out of character.

But Kat couldn’t let Spider go with her alone. He’d take the opportunity to ‘break her in’. And given how terrified Ruthie already looked, it might be the end of her.

Kat knew there wasn’t much she could do. She certainly wouldn’t act openly against McCready. But she also couldn’t let Spider rape a terrified young girl without at least putting up some kind of fight, or even preparing her for the inevitable with some tips. All the women in the room had experienced the same thing, herself included. She could help Ruthie endure it, with enough time.

At least, that’s what she told herself. But the fierce, protective urge welling within her told a different story. One that involved a scared eighteen-year-old girl called Larissa, caught up in something much too big for her.

Kat had paid the consequences for protecting her sister. She didn’t regret it, but she would always suffer for taking her sister’s place in McCready’s crew.

And if she could stop that happening to another scared young girl? Well, apparently that was something Kat did, a hidden, almost maternal, side of herself she hadn’t expected. She didn’t even know this girl. Would she really risk everything for her?

Kat hoped not, for her own sake.

And yet still she didn’t back down. “Yes. Me.” She held out her hand to Ruthie, who stood frozen, staring at her with wide eyes. Spider scowled at Kat, clearly pissed she’d delayed his fun, but Kat ignored him.

McCready, however, was looking at her with a cold fascination. She’d done something he hadn’t expected, and now he was looking at her with new eyes. The back of Kat’s neck prickled in reaction.

Kat moved closer to Ruthie, and no one stopped her. So, she tugged the young girl out of the men’s grip. Both resisted for a moment, their displeasure obvious, but then let go at the same moment, making Ruthie stumble.

Kat marched Ruthie out of the room without looking back, along the hall, up a level, and finally into a room towards the back of the mansion.

She set the girl on the bed and then turned back to shut the door. Ruthie’s ragged breathing filled the silence of the room, and Kat crouched in front of her.

“Are you okay?”

Ruthie shook her head, pressing her lips together like she was holding back tears.

Kat’s heart ached. She sat next to the girl on the bed and put her arm around her. Ruthie lay her head on Kat’s shoulder, and damp tears soaked through her t-shirt, though Ruthie didn’t make a sound.

“What brought you here?” Kat whispered.

“My father,” Ruthie choked out.

A chill passed over Kat. “What happened?”

“He got into debt with that McCready guy. I don’t know the details, I didn’t even know dad was into that stuff. All I know is McCready offered dad a choice. Either McCready could take me for three years, or he’d kill dad. And dad chose to give me away.” The last words ended on a wail as the dam finally broke. Tears poured from Ruthie’s eyes as she sobbed, the sound tearing Kat in two.

She rocked the younger woman until the tears finally subsided. Then, she put her hands on Ruthie’s shoulders and pushed the girl upright. Once she’d made sure she had Ruthie’s attention, she took a bracing breath.

“You have to harden yourself. That was all the time you’ll get to grieve. They won’t give you any quarter after this, so you have to steel yourself against these emotions.”

Ruthie frowned, then pulled herself out of Kat’s grasp. “What?” she asked, clearly confused.

Pity nearly swamped Kat, but she forced herself to press on. It would be better for Ruthie in the long run. “If you allow yourself these feelings of regret and pain and fear, it’ll eat you up inside. It’s better to lock it up, become hard against it all.”

“Is that what you did?” Ruthie sneered, anger and fear flashing in her gaze.

“Yes,” Kat said simply. “It’s how I survived.”

“Well I won’t,” the younger woman declared, her voice shaking and renewed tears streaming down her face. She wasn’t as tough as she wanted to appear.

“Please, trust me, it’s better this way.”

Ruthie leapt to her feet. “Trust? You want me to trust you after you bring me here and pretend to be my friend, and then try to convince me to lie back and let this happen to me? I won’t. I won’t do it.”

She was breathing heavily. Kat forced herself to stay calm. As much as she wanted to yell at the girl that she was helping her survive, that this was the only way she knew to get through, she knew it wouldn’t help.

“And what will you do instead?” she asked. It hurt her to do this, to drill the hope out of this girl. But what else could she do? Watch her destroy herself?

“I’ll escape,” Ruthie declared.

“And what will happen to your father if you do?” Kat asked, assuming Ruthie’s deal was similar to her own.

Ruthie’s face fell. “He’ll be killed.”

Kat nodded. “Is that something you’re willing to live with?”

“Maybe,” Ruthie choked out. She was clearly mad at her father, as anyone would be in her place. It was a father’s job to protect his child, not sell her to a man little better than a pimp in order to save himself. But Ruthie was too innocent to condemn her own father to death, no matter what he’d done to her. Kat could tell from the doubt in her eyes that she’d never go through with it.

“Well, if you choose to stay,” she said carefully. “Know that we all have to follow McCready’s rules. If you don’t, he’ll punish you, or even kill you. And then he’ll go after your father, and it’ll all be for nothing.”

Ruthie slowly sank back onto the bed. “I can’t accept it. Not like you can.”

Kat laughed bitterly. “Oh, I was like you at first. I couldn’t accept it, either. But I got punished enough—months and months added to my sentence, or the worst jobs imaginable—that I soon learned what I had to do. I’m trying to save you the pain of learning those same lessons the hard way.”

Ruthie took Kat’s hand. “Please, you have to help me. Those men, in the car, they…I don’t think I can do this.”

Kat’s heart shattered, but she forced her wall back up around it. She couldn’t let this girl get to her. She took Ruthie’s hand from hers and returned it to the younger girl’s lap. “You might not realise it now, but I am helping you. This is the only way. You’ll see.”

Kat stood, and Ruthie gave her one last horrified glance before she threw herself back on the bed and started sobbing as she slowly contracted into a ball.

Tears pricked Kat’s eyes in response, and she blinked them away as she headed to the door. She was doing this for the best, she really was.

She hoped.

 

 

Wyatt slammed his fists into the punching bag, enjoying the stretch and burn of his muscles. Sweat dripped down his back, testament to the long session he’d put in at the gym tonight. Though it wasn’t all for his fitness.

He was waiting.

Spider and Weston had stepped into the gym about twenty minutes ago, and Wyatt was waiting for the time when he wouldn’t look like he was ambushing them if he approached. He was grateful they’d come in at all, given that it was after 10pm and Wyatt had been working out for an hour in the hope they’d show up.

Finally, he figured he’d held off long enough and he stepped back from the bag. He ran a towel over his face and then stretched, keeping an eye on the other two men who were sparring in the tattered boxing ring to his right.

Golan’s Gym, where all of McCready’s fighters trained, had once been a thriving gym from where some of the best boxers in the world had emerged. Golan himself had been one of them. But times had changed since then, and now to keep the place open and his dreams alive, Golan took money from McCready to let the fighters train after hours in his space.

Spider and Weston stepped apart for a drinks break, and Wyatt saw his chance.

“Hey guys,” he greeted them casually as he stepped up to the ring and leaned against the ropes. They raised their chins in reply.

“Will there be another party this week?” Wyatt didn’t really want to know, but supposed he should prepare himself if he got invited again.

Spider and Weston glanced at each other. Spider was the one who answered. “There’s one every week.”

“Awesome,” Wyatt replied, plastering a smile on his face.

“We saw you getting cosy with Kat,” Weston said, a gleam in his eye.

A sudden, shockingly protective urge welled up in Wyatt as Weston said her name. He didn’t like the look on his face, as if he knew something Wyatt didn’t. His jaw clenched involuntarily over the desire to say something—or punch the smug look off Weston’s face.

But Wyatt was a smart man. He knew if he showed any emotion towards Kat, if he reacted to the implication in Weston’s words, both he and Kat would pay for it.

So, instead, he shrugged. “She’s hot.”

The guys laughed, and the needling look in their eyes faded. That was clearly the right answer to allay their suspicions.

“A troublemaker, though,” said Spider. His lips curled.

“Yeah?” Wyatt asked lightly.

“Always fucking interfering,” Spider growled. “Can’t mind her business.”

Wyatt was desperately curious to know what Spider was referring to, but didn’t dare ask.

Weston chuckled. “You’ll get a piece of the new girl eventually,” he said to Spider.

Spider slammed his water bottle against the floor of the ring. “She should already be mine, damn it.”

Wyatt fought to keep anything from showing on his face. There was a new girl? One Kat was protecting? This wouldn’t bode well for Kat, he could already sense it. What had possessed her to get between Spider and what he wanted? Especially after everything she’d said to him about not getting involved. A whisper of fear travelled through him at the thought that she was putting herself in harm’s way.

Hopefully she knew what she was doing. Ironically, her refusal to hear his plans involving McCready had made him trust her more. For all her talk about playing both sides, she hadn’t wanted to be told anything she could betray him with.

If, instead, she’d listened to every word of his plan, he would always wonder if she’d betray him. No, even if she claimed to be working only for herself, it was clear deep down she was on his side. However, it didn’t mean he could fully trust her.

He had to stay focused on his plan to find out what happened to his brother, and hopefully destroy McCready once he knew. But it wasn’t his main mission, and he had to remember that. No matter how much the other man creeped him out, Wyatt could not prioritise ruining McCready over discovering what happened to his brother.

Yet.

“So, does McCready let a lot of new faces through?” he asked casually, watching Spider and Weston for their reactions.

Weston shrugged. “Enough. Some fighters, some girls. A few others here and there. You play your cards right, and you’ll be with us soon enough.” He grinned and puffed out his chest as if that was something to be proud of.

Wyatt forced a smile. “That’s what I’m hoping.”

Spider scoffed. “You’re not there yet. You’ll have to pass the tests first.”

Wyatt shifted. “Tests?”

Spider waved a hand. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

Weston laughed as if that was some kind of joke. Nerves pricked Wyatt’s spine. What kind of tests were they talking about? Nothing good, it would seem.

“Okay, well, I’m ready for anything,” he said, attempting to sound enthusiastic. The two men shared a look and laughed.

“I’m sure you are,” Spider said, clearly not believing him. Well, obviously, the tests were even worse than he could imagine. He hadn’t bargained on this.

But if he could get the information he came for without having to even go near these tests, all the better.

“Have many people tried to pass these tests? How many have succeeded?” Did my brother try and fail? Is that why he never came home?

“McCready doesn’t let just anyone take them. He handpicks his favourites, and only the best of them make it in.” Weston again looked proud, like this was an accomplishment, rather than the moral failure Wyatt considered it.

“I see,” Wyatt replied. “Any hints on what these tests are, or even when?”

Spider shrugged. “Whenever he feels like it.”

Okay, so Wyatt would have to be ready at all times. He was already so on edge, this wasn’t what he needed.

“And these previous people who took—”

Wyatt cut off as the door to the gym swung open. He spun, nearly growling at the newcomers for interrupting his interrogation when he was finally getting around to asking questions that might lead to his brother. But when he saw it was Chen, he bit back whatever he would have said. Instead, he nodded in acknowledgement and Chen returned the gesture. Then, Chen glanced at Spider and Weston, but made no effort to greet them.

Wyatt smiled at the man’s subtly petty gesture. He erased it from his face before turning back to his marks. Where could they go where they wouldn’t be interrupted? Where Spider and Weston would follow him, and he would be free to ask all the questions he wanted?

There was only one place he could think of.

“You two want a drink? I’m buying.”

Their grins were answer enough.

 

 

Spider and Weston were putting away drinks at the rate of three to Wyatt’s one. After a few hours of solid drinking they were, to put it mildly, extremely drunk.

And yet they hadn’t breathed a single word about Dean.

It wasn’t for lack of trying on Wyatt’s part. He kept finding ways to talk about previous fighters—getting less and less subtle at introducing the topic as the evening wore on and Wyatt’s frustration mounted along with Spider and Weston’s blood alcohol levels.

And yet the two, whether intentionally or not, immediately went off track at every attempt. Wyatt was half-tempted to slam their heads against the bar to see if it would shake anything loose, but decided it was a lost cause.

One last attempt.

He called for another round to be brought over, then waited while Spider and Weston took their first sips. They were slumped precariously on the bar stools, their backs hunched as if they could no longer hold themselves upright. Wyatt was pleasantly buzzed, but hadn’t wanted to get beyond that. He wasn’t a big drinker, anyway. When he’d been a detective, he’d not always known when he’d be called to a scene, and there was nothing worse than staggering drunk onto a crime scene. And he liked his mind clear and in control, particularly during an interrogation, which is what this was.

While he waited for Spider and Weston to replenish their whiskey content, he glanced around the room. The bar itself was a filthy dive Spider had suggested. Drinks were spilled on every surface, and it was clear no one had cleaned them in a while. The floor was stained with multiple substances, many Wyatt didn’t even want to know about. Even the décor was in poor shape, including the tattered Confederate flag hanging by the door.

The patrons weren’t much better. Men of all ages crowded the space, many sporting leather jackets and unkempt beards. The few women dotted through the crowd were mostly older, worn-looking, and more skimpily dressed than Wyatt would expect for someone of their apparent ages.

However, every one of the bar’s patrons was enjoying themselves other than Wyatt. This was not his crowd, and the lack of information from Spider and Weston made him increasingly bitter about having to stay here.

“So, I think someone mentioned a guy called Dean,” Wyatt said, throwing subtlety out the window. “What was he like? Did he pass the tests?”

Spider narrowed his eyes. “Where’d ya hear that name?”

Weston drunkenly leaned into Spider. “Which one was Dean?”

“The mouthy do-gooder.”

Weston laughed. “Oh, that guy. Yeah, he got what he deserved.”

A chill snaked down Wyatt’s spine and wrapped around his chest like a tight band. He suddenly found it difficult to breathe. All the alcohol leeched from his system at once, leaving his head crystal clear. He attempted to say something, but the band around his chest tightened in panic.

“What was that?” he choked out. Were they talking about the same Dean? He had to believe so. ‘Mouthy do-gooder’ wasn’t a bad description of Dean on his good days. This could be the confirmation he was looking for that Dean had fallen in with McCready. And if that was the case, then he was one stepped close to finding his brother. Or, his brother’s body.

“What?” Spider asked, swivelling in his chair to peer at Wyatt through vague eyes.

“What did he deserve?” Wyatt tried again.

Both men laughed, sloppily falling into each other as they did so. “Oh, the usual. He—”

Spider broke off frowning. Wyatt almost cursed. What the hell was it now? He’d been so damn close.

Spider patted one pocket, then the other, swaying with each movement. Wyatt couldn’t hear it over the noise of the bar, but he assumed Spider was looking for a ringing phone.

Wyatt cleared his throat and pointed to the device poking out of Spider’s breast pocket on his jacket. Spider grinned merrily.

“Oh.”

He pulled it out and answered without checking who it was. “Hello?”

“Who is it?” Weston asked loudly, nudging his friend.

“I don’t know,” Spider replied into the phone. “I can’t hear.”

“Ask them who it is?” Weston insisted, and despite his frustrations with the two men, Wyatt almost laughed. They would have made a good comedy duo, if comedy duos were known for their violence and cruelty.

Wyatt plucked the phone out of Spider’s hand, wanting whoever it was to go away so he could get back to their conversation.

“Spider’s indisposed right now,” he began.

“Wyatt?” said a woman’s voice on the other end of the line. “What are you doing with Spider’s phone?”

“Kat?” Wyatt replied.

“Yeah. Are you with Spider?”

“Yes,” he replied, off balance. Was this a work call, or was there something personal between Kat and Spider? He shuddered at the thought, even as a surprising amount of jealousy stabbed at him.

“Is he too drunk to talk?” she asked wearily, as if it was something that happened on the regular.

“Pretty much,” Wyatt replied, eyeing Spider where he’d tilted into the bar, his eyelids drooping.

“Time for us to go, then.”

“Us?” Wyatt asked, not sure he’d heard correctly over the noise of the bar.

“I’m outside. I was sent to pick Spider and Weston up.”

Wyatt blinked. “How did you know where we were?”

Kat snorted through the phone. “This is always where Spider is when he goes AWOL.”

“Oh,” Wyatt replied. He should have known.

“Can you get them outside for me? I don’t want to go in that place if I don’t have to.”

Wyatt sighed, disappointment running through him. His interrogation had been cut short, and he wasn’t sure when he’d get another chance. It hadn’t occurred to him that Spider and Weston’s time was so closely monitored.

“Yeah,” he said. “But it might take a minute to coax them out.”

Kat laughed. “I’ll be here.”

Wyatt hung up and eyed Spider and Weston. They were looking quite sorry for themselves. With a grumble, Wyatt stood and grabbed both of them by the collars on their jackets and guided them to their feet.

“Where are we going?” Spider asked, sagging in Wyatt’s grip. His arms shook in an effort to keep the big men upright.

“Home,” Wyatt grit out. “Your ride’s here.”

Spider pouted.

“One more drink?” Weston asked hopefully.

“Nah, I think you’ve had enough. Next time. You can tell me more about that Dean guy.”

Weston laughed. “Oh yeah, him. Mouthy do-gooder.”

Wyatt set his jaw and tightened his grip on Weston’s jacket in an effort not to punch the man. Inadvertently, some of Weston’s t-shirt must have been caught in his fist and tightened with the move, because Weston choked as the collar pressed against his windpipe. Wyatt grinned in a savage kind of satisfaction at the sight.

But he couldn’t stay there forever, so he pushed the two men in the direction of the door. It required a lot of shoving, and apologies to the burly men they bumped into on the way to the door, but Wyatt eventually got the three of them outside with only minimal incidents.

He sucked in a deep breath of the fresh night air, a relief after the stinking bar. Spider and Weston fell against a car and propped themselves up, and Wyatt was glad this wasn’t the kind of crowd that had car alarms.

He didn’t see Kat at first. Once he did, it became obvious why he hadn’t recognised her immediately.

Instead of wearing some skimpy gold bikini, she was in jeans and a hoodie. Her hair was piled into a messy bun on her head, and her face was free of makeup. She was grinning at him, the most naturally happy expression he’d seen on her face so far. She looked like a normal person. An incredibly pretty normal person, like the kind movies would cast as the plain girl. Still gorgeous by most standards, but didn’t quite look like a supermodel.

Her new clothes also made her look extremely young.

When he’d first seen her at the party, he’d assumed she was late twenties or maybe even older. Seeing her now, he revised that estimate to mid-twenties at the most.

Even more shocking was how he responded to her. Wyatt had been attracted to Kat at their last two encounters, he couldn’t deny it. But seeing her now, looking like every man’s girl-next-door fantasy come to life made his blood rush south.

It was strange that seeing her in more clothes had this effect on him, but under the circumstances it made a twisted kind of sense. She didn’t look like man’s plaything, now. She looked like the kind of girl Wyatt would have met in his old life, maybe in a coffee shop, or at a bar much better than the one behind them. Someone he could have struck up a conversation with, not one that had been offered by her boss to fill his bed if he wanted it.

The reminder made him nauseous, and his cock wilted.

He couldn’t forget who she was—who pulled her strings. McCready as good as owned her, and Wyatt had no business lusting after a woman in that position. She deserved better.

And he had to keep himself under control, before he did something they’d both regret.

 

 

 

“Thanks for getting them out of there,” Kat told Wyatt. Waiting in the dim parking lot as tough-looking men and women made their way in and out of the bar had been bad enough. She hadn’t wanted to go inside if she didn’t absolutely have to.

Wyatt shrugged. “No problem. Need help getting them into the car?”

“Yes, please. It’s right over there.” She gestured to the dark SUV in the next row over. It was the car McCready insisted they all use to pick up any of his men from bars because it was the easiest to clean. McCready didn’t want bodily substance to get into the interiors of his Lamborghinis, his Bugatti, or his Ferrari.

Wyatt managed to get Weston and Spider to each sling an arm over his shoulders, and then the three men stumbled in the direction of the car she’d indicated.

Kat ran ahead and opened the door, and Wyatt lifted the two men onto the raised back seat one at a time. Kat would be lying if she said she didn’t find the display of strength attractive.  She licked her lips as her body warmed, glad Wyatt wasn’t looking at her. Then, to add to her problem, Wyatt leaned into the back seat and buckled them in so she wouldn’t have to. Thoughtful and safety conscious.

Not that she would mind Spider and Weston getting in a car wreck. But she would be the one who would get in trouble if it happened on her watch.

The two men immediately passed out and Kat breathed a sigh of relief. Unconscious was better than grabby or belligerent, both of which she’d dealt with when it came to these two.

“I didn’t know you were a taxi service, too.”

Kat glanced through the open back doors at Wyatt, who was eyeing her.

She looked away, keeping her voice light. “We all do it, sometimes. He generally makes the girl he’s least happy with do it.” She peeked at Wyatt using her peripheral vision to see what his reaction would be.

He was scowling at her. “Why is he unhappy with you? It’s not because of me, is it?”

She snorted. “I don’t think so. I got on his watchlist today, that’s all.”

“I’m sorry. Is there anything I can do?”

Kat’s heart melted at the concern in his voice. But she hardened herself against it. She couldn’t allow herself to get emotionally involved with this man.

“No. This isn’t the first time I’ve been in his bad books. It’s not so bad.”

Wyatt didn’t look convinced.

“I promise,” she reassured him.

Wyatt sighed and tapped his fingers against the roof of the car. As if he’d come to some kind of decision, he straightened. “I know I shouldn’t ask, but what’s keeping you here? Why don’t you leave?”

Kat hesitated, but decided it wouldn’t hurt for Wyatt to know. “If I leave, he’ll kill my sister.”

Wyatt’s eyes widened. “Seriously?”

Kat nodded. “Yeah. She was the one who got into debt with him. I took her place to pay it off. So if I run, she’s the one who suffers.”

Wyatt stared at her for a long moment. “Run that by me again. What happened?”

Kat sighed and stepped away from the car. She moved around until she’d reached the hood, and climbed onto it. The metal groaned under her weight, but held well. She shouldn’t be telling him this. But again, like the night of the fight when she’d patched him up, she was delaying the inevitable return into McCready’s domain. It was a small rebellion, and a taste of freedom to tide her over until she got the real thing.

Plus, she was curious about this man. She wanted to know more about him, to see if he was as good as she was fantasising about. He wouldn’t be, there was no chance. Men always, always disappointed her. But better to know that now before she mistook her fantasies for reality and got in too deep.

Kat turned back to Wyatt and patted the seat beside her.

He came towards her, his movements slightly jerky as if he was being operated with strings. He levered himself up next to her and shuffled back until he was sitting next to her on the hood. The car dipped under their combined weight, and Kat tipped into him for a brief second, their arms brushing as they shifted to get comfortable. Goosebumps travelled over her skin where they’d touched, beneath her hoodie.

She was acutely aware of him next to her. The heat radiating from him, his subtle scent in the air. It caused her skin to tighten, her senses to tune into whatever vibe he was putting into the air.

She cleared her throat.

“Five years ago, my sister came home crying. I was in my second year of college, and home on a break. My sister was eighteen, and tears were nothing new. But something about that night was different.”

Kat glanced over at Wyatt to see how he was taking this. He watched her with that intense focus which was always on his face when he looked at her.

Kat took a deep breath, emboldened by his apparent interest, and continued. “Turns out she and some friends had been daring each other to do increasingly dangerous stunts. I think there might have been a boy she’d been trying to impress. Anyway, they’d got caught stealing a car. Not by the police, but by the owner.”

“Let me guess, McCready?”

Kat nodded. “He agreed not to go to the police, but only if they each worked off the debt of the car’s worth. None of them wanted to go to prison, or have a criminal record, so they agreed. But they had no idea what they’d be getting into.”

“So, your sister asked you for help?”

Kat shook her head. “Not really. She was scared and ashamed. She didn’t want to tell our parents. She was meant to start college in a few months and knew it wouldn’t happen if she was in prison instead. She’d ruined her life and was devastated.”

“You offered to take her place?”

Kat nodded. “At first, I thought it’d be something easy, like washing dishes or yard work. Once McCready explained it to me—that I’d have to give up my life, live with him, and essentially prostitute myself and act like a slave…well. I couldn’t let that happen to my sister, could I?” Tears pricked her eyes at the thought. She’d been so innocent, then. They both had been.

“And you agreed anyway.”

“Yeah. I didn’t have much of a choice.”

“And why didn’t you go to the police once you knew? Surely prison is better than…this.”

“By then it was too late. McCready would’ve killed my sister if I told.”

He fell silent for a moment, gaze roving over her. “Do you regret it?”

“No. If I had to do it again, I’d make the same choices even faster. I would do anything to protect my sister from this fate.”

Wyatt nodded slowly. He tilted his head up to see the stars, exposing the strong column of his throat.

“McCready sure is a sonofabitch.”

Kat let out a laugh. “Yeah, no arguments from me.”

They fell silent for a moment. The sound of music and laughter spilled from the bar. Beyond the pool of light shining on the cars, darkness lay beyond. This wasn’t a good neighbourhood. Spider liked to drink here because it was halfway between the gym and McCready’s mansion, but also because he felt at home amongst the clientele. Kat didn’t mind a good bar, but this wouldn’t be her choice for when she had her first drink to celebrate her freedom.

Not long now.

“So, what were you studying?” Wyatt asked. “When you gave it all up.”

“Nursing,” she said with a wistful smile. “I wanted to help people.”

He eyed her. “I wouldn’t have guessed that.”

Kat shuttered her emotions. “Well, I was different then. Idealistic. Naïve.” She nearly jumped off the hood of the car. It was stupid of her to have stayed out this late, anyway. She’d been drawn in by the remembrances of her old life, of happier times.

He shook his head, as if denying her words. “I think you’d make a good nurse. You’d be calm under pressure and could make the tough calls.”

Kat studied him, but he seemed perfectly serious. A tingle started all over her, starting in her heart. Wyatt really did seem sweet. Damn it.

“What about you?” she countered. “What did you do before you started inserting yourself into McCready’s world?”

He shrugged. “This and that.”

Kat hummed. So, he did have secrets. That didn’t surprise her. What did surprise her was he’d been so open about his plans for McCready, but didn’t want to talk about his life before. Whatever he was keeping from her must be big.

“Come on. It can’t have been that bad.” She nudged him with her shoulder, and again goosebumps skated along her arm. She was glad her hoodie hid her reaction to his touch.

Wyatt’s eyes softened. “It’s not. But it’s one of those things you don’t want to know, because you’ll have to decide whether or not to tell McCready.”

“Oh,” Kat breathed. Her heart flipped. And before she even knew what she was doing, she leaned over and pressed a kiss against Wyatt’s lips. It was as much a thank you as it was an act of attraction. Gratitude that he’d seen her, knew her, and treated her like a human being.

But she also couldn’t resist that soft look in his eyes, even more so than the intense gazes he’d given her before. It made her feel soft. Wanted. Cared for.

And she’d had to be so hard for so long.

Their lips touching sent a slow roll of heat through her, like creeping lava consuming all in its path. It wasn’t lightning, or fireworks. But it was far more powerful. Inexorable and unavoidable.

Wyatt’s hand slid into her hair, cupping her face as he returned the kiss. She sank into him, enjoying the feel of his body against her. His heat and hardness. The kiss deepened and she wanted more, wanted to strip them both and live out the fantasies that had been plaguing her for days.

She wanted.

For the first time in a long while, she wanted something—someone. She couldn’t even remember the last time it had happened. She’d lived in a fog for so long, focused on survival. Wanting hadn’t even played into it.

The thought surprised her so much that Kat broke the kiss and sat back. She stared at Wyatt for a long moment, searching his face for…something.

She shouldn’t be doing this. McCready wouldn’t want her giving her favours without his permission. And she shouldn’t want to. It wasn’t the time, or the place. Kat needed to focus on her freedom, not on this man she knew so little about.

“Why are you even here?” she asked, suddenly desperate to find something about this man she didn’t like. She hadn’t wanted to know, not really. Not if it put him at risk because she would have a weapon to sell him out to McCready if she chose to. But now she needed the details. Needed to know if his reasons were honourable, or if he was here for a selfish reason like all the rest.

Wyatt’s gaze locked on hers. For a moment, she thought he wouldn’t answer, that he’d still be focused on the kiss. But then he sighed and some of the tension drained out of him. “I have a sibling, too. A brother. Or maybe I had one. Either way, McCready knows what happened to him, and I need to find out.”

Kat sucked in a breath. “What was his name?” She shouldn’t be asking, shouldn’t know the answer. McCready would kill her if he found out she knew something about Wyatt and had no intention of telling him. But Kat had to know.

“Dean,” Wyatt answered.

“Oh,” Kat said, and suddenly things made sense. “You’re looking for him.”

Wyatt nodded. “You don’t happen to know where he is, do you?”

Kat shook her head, distracted by the way light from the bar’s floodlights reflected off Wyatt’s dark eyes.

“But you know him?”

“We met. I don’t think we ever talked, though. He never made it into McCready’s circle, though he tried, so I only saw him fight. And he had a similar style of fighting to you, now I think about it.”

A ghost of a smile played on his lips, but it was tinged with sadness.

“When was the last time you saw him?”

Kat cast her mind back. “About a year, I think. One day he simply disappeared. That happens a lot with people close to McCready.”

Wyatt scowled. “And it doesn’t bother you?”

“Of course it does,” she replied testily, the remaining heat from the kiss draining out of her. “But what do you want me to do? Confront him about it? For all I know they’re in Tahiti. And if they’re not, then I don’t think I want to join them by stirring up any trouble.”

Wyatt’s jaw worked. “I need to find out what happened. Even if I have to stir up trouble,” he replied, emphasising the words with a sneer.

Kat glared at him. “You want to judge me? Fine. But at least I’m still alive.”

“Kat, you might not want to see this, but you’re part of the problem. By protecting yourself, you’re protecting McCready and his status quo. If you all stood up—”

Kat leapt up from the car’s hood, fury rising. “And who do you expect will stand up with me? Spider? Weston?” She gestured angrily at the sleeping men in the car. “It’s everyone for themselves, Wyatt. We all know what it takes to stay alive, and that’s to stay on McCready’s good side. One wrong move and I could end up in a ditch with your brother.”

She stopped, snapping her mouth shut. But it was too late, the cruel words had tumbled out. Wyatt’s face grew stricken. He slid off the car and took a stumbling step back.

“I’m sorry,” Kat murmured. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

Wyatt’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t reply.

“I need to go,” she whispered, her heart cracking. She slid into the driver’s seat of the car and started the engine. The headlights spotlighted Wyatt where he still stood, staring at her.

She hadn’t meant to hurt him. But she was so sick and tired of being judged. Of being afraid every minute of her day. Of making tough choices to stay alive and getting crucified for it. She did what she had to do so she could survive, and no one should fault her for that.

But if that was the case, why did she feel so damn guilty?

 

 

The next morning, Kat was returning to her room from the kitchen with a mug of coffee when she spotted Ruthie outside by the pool, staring off into the distance with her arms wrapped around herself. Kat’s heart cracked at the sight. She looked so alone and vulnerable.

Sighing, Kat changed direction and slipped out the sliding door. Ruthie spared her a glance as Kat settled beside her, but then she pointedly turned her face back to the view.

It was a nice view, all things considered. McCready’s house was on a rise, so they could see across the city and to the horizon.

“I’m sorry about what I said to you yesterday,” Kat said eventually.

Ruthie gave her a disbelieving look. “Will you take it all back?” There was a lot of bitterness in her voice for one so young, who just yesterday had been so naïve.

“No,” said Kat after a while. “But I could have explained myself better.”

Ruthie turned to leave. “I don’t want to hear it.”

Kat caught her arm. “Please. I want to help you.”

Ruthie tightened her jaw, eyeing Kat. Eventually, she acquiesced with a nod and unexpected relief ran through Kat. Why was she so determined to help this girl? None of the others who had come and gone during Kat’s time had affected her this way. But every time Kat looked at Ruthie, she saw her sister instead. And she knew that if Larissa was in this position, Kat would do anything she could to help her survive.

“Let’s go for a walk,” she suggested, casting a glance up at the camera mounted on the roof’s overhang above them. It was trained directly on them.

Ruthie followed her gaze and shuddered when she spotted what Kat was looking at. “Let’s.”

Kat led her around the garden, pointing out various plants and hidey spots throughout the yard. She waved to a gardener as they passed, one of the few outsourced workers McCready hired. No one outside his inner circle was allowed inside the house except during parties, so he used women like Kat as his maids. But the garden he wanted looking perfect, since it was the first thing people saw as the came up the drive to the house, and McCready liked making an imposing first impression. So, he hired people with more experience than he could get from those he blackmailed.

Kat learned early that the gardeners were paid well for their silence.

“How long have you been here?” Ruthie asked eventually.

Kat sighed. “Nearly five years. My term is up in a few months.”

“So, you’ll be going home?” Ruthie asked excitedly.

“Yes, hopefully. If they’ll have me.” She didn’t say that she’d barely spoken to her family since she’d got here. Her sister’s guilt at sending Kat here, mingled with her parent’s disgust at what she was doing, created a firestorm of unpleasantness each time she called. She only picked up the phone on rare occasions when she didn’t think she could go on, to remind herself who she was doing this for.

Besides, McCready closely monitored her calls. He didn’t want any of his slaves organising a revolt, or otherwise betraying him.

“Why wouldn’t they have you?” Ruthie asked, tears springing to her eyes.

“It’s complicated,” Kat hedged. “But that doesn’t mean it’ll happen to you. I’m sure your father will be glad to have you home.”

Ruthie blinked rapidly, trying to dispel the tears. “Yes, I suppose so. But whether I’ll want to go home to him is another story.”

Kat nodded. Ruthie had every right to be furious at her father for getting her into this situation, and she’d never dream of telling her otherwise.

“The important thing is that you will leave here,” she said instead. “And one day, I hope, all of this will seem like a horrible dream, a time away from our lives we can lock into a box and never think of again. But first we have to survive it.”

Ruthie glanced warily at Kat. “By survive it, you mean go along with it?”

Kat’s mouth twisted into something like a smile. “Yeah. By whatever means necessary.”

“I don’t think I can,” Ruthie whispered, though less defensively than when they’d spoken of it yesterday. “The way that Spider guy looks at me…I’ve managed to avoid him so far, but I don’t know how much longer it’ll last. And I don’t think he cares that I don’t want anything to do with him.”

Kat swallowed, her gut twisting unpleasantly. She knew Spider liked them young and innocent, and once he’d used them enough that they became cynical and hard, he mostly ignored them. It was part of the reason Kat had been so quick to shut herself down—Spider had soon lost interest in her.

“I’m glad he hasn’t managed to corner you yet,” Kat said. She had Wyatt to thank for that. He’d taken Spider and Weston out for drinks last night, and they were too busy nursing their hangovers this morning to bother any women.

Kat was surprised to find she meant the sentiment. Part of her had taken Ruthie here to tell her to get the worst of it over with—rip the Band-Aid off—but the thought of Spider mauling this girl made her sick to the stomach.

Maybe Wyatt had had a point. Maybe she’d been thinking of herself too long. It wouldn’t hurt for the women under McCready’s control to have some kind of solidarity, or strength in numbers. It was worth her considering.

She’d have to be careful who she considered for the group, though. Some of the women had been here a long time, well past when their sentence came due. Kat didn’t know whether it was a Stockholm Syndrome situation, whether they’d drunk the Kool-Aid, or whether they just had nowhere else to go. But either way, not all McCready’s victims hated him. Many were loyal. It baffled Kat, and saddened her.

She and Ruthie slowly made their way back to the house.

“What am I going to do?” Ruthie asked softly before they made it back to the house.

Kat squeezed her eyes shut, just for a second. “I don’t know. I don’t know what’s best.”

“You won’t help me?”

Kat made a strangled sound. She thought of her own sister—the one Ruthie reminded her of so strongly. If she risked McCready’s wrath to help Ruthie, she’d never see Larissa again. She had no doubt McCready would destroy her for even the slightest hint of disloyalty. Could Kat give up her sister, her parents, her hope for a better life, to help one girl?

“I don’t know,” she said again, voice tight.

She glanced at Ruthie to see the younger woman looking at her with wide, hurt eyes. Ruthie turned her head away to hide her tears and strode back into the house, leaving Kat to wallow in her shame as she followed.

She made it back to the house and was in half a mind to seek out Ruthie—to do what, she didn’t know—when Spider’s voice caught her ear. It was coming from the open office two doors down, the same one Kat had caught Wyatt in that first night they’d spoke.

“I don’t remember what we talked about, okay?” Spider gritted out, clearly frustrated. It sounded like he’d pressed this point a few times already.

Kat crept closer, her ears trained for the reply.

“You must remember something,” growled McCready. “You were with him for hours.” They were talking about Spider and Weston’s time with Wyatt last night. Did McCready suspect Wyatt of pumping Spider and Weston for information?

“And I was drunk,” Spider shot back. “If I’d known you’d wanted a report, I would have kept my wits about me.”

“Well, next time, be smarter and figure that out before I have to tell you. Wyatt would be an asset. He’s a good fighter, and smart.” The smarter than you was implied. “But maybe he’s too smart. I need to know before I offer him the position.”

Spider openly sighed. “Just test him already. Then you’ll know.”

McCready made a disgusted sound. “Not yet. Not until I know for sure, either way.”

“But—”

“I won’t run the test,” McCready interrupted him. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t run a test. Do you understand now?” Kat’s blood went cold. What were they going to do to Wyatt? Or, knowing McCready, what would he make Wyatt do?

Kat swallowed painfully. Wyatt didn’t deserve whatever was about to happen to him. He was only trying to find his brother. But McCready would kick him out in a second if he got wind of Wyatt’s investigation, or if Wyatt failed any tests. And that would mean Wyatt might never find out what happened to his brother.

Should she warn him? Kat didn’t know. It would be a risk, a big one. And it might make Wyatt’s position more precarious if he suspected McCready was attempting to entrap him. People got fidgety when they were anticipating something bad. If Wyatt acted nervous, McCready would know immediately someone had told him about the impending tests, and it would be pretty obvious who that would be. Kat would then be putting herself in danger, too.

To make it worse, McCready would wonder why a man with nothing to hide would need to be warned about any tests. He’d immediately suspect that Wyatt had ulterior motives, and that Kat would know what they were.

She could blow Wyatt’s investigation if she was careless.

Could she trust Wyatt to keep his cool? And keep her secrets?

Maybe.

Spider chuckled. “Right, let me know what you want me to do.”

“I will, if I need you. But for now, try to remember what you spoke about last night.”

Spider grumbled. “I told you, I barely remember anything. We talked about chicks, about fights we’d seen, we laughed over that mouthy do-gooder who used to hang around until—”

“Mouthy do-gooder?” McCready interrupted, sounding on high alert.

“Yeah, that…Dean? Was that his name? I don’t remember how he came up, but he did.”

“What exactly did you say?” McCready asked in a dangerous voice.

A rustling sounded, like Spider had shrugged. “Nothing important. I didn’t say what happened to him or anything. You know I’d never spill your secrets to someone who isn’t in.”

“Did Wyatt seem particularly interested in this topic of conversation?”

Silence drew out for a long moment and Kat held her breath. It was as if a blade hovered over Wyatt, waiting to strike, and Spider’s next words were the only thing keeping it airborne.

“Not particularly,” Spider said eventually, and Kat let out a breath of relief. Wyatt was safe for another day.

“Fine,” McCready snapped, suddenly impatient. “Go take care of that business we discussed earlier. We have another party this weekend.”

Kat straightened. Their interview was over and she was obviously eavesdropping on the conversation. She had a spilt second to decide whether she should go forward, past the door as if she’d only recently come back into the house, or turn back and hide.

There was only one choice, really. She’d never make it out of the corridor before Spider came out and spotted her. So she stepped forward as if she’d been travelling this way all along.

Just in time, too, because she nearly collided with Spider as he left the office. She gave him a tight smile as he eyed her with a narrow gaze, then slipped past him, careful not to brush against him. She had a brief chance to glimpse McCready over Spider’s meaty shoulder, silhouetted by his window as he stared into the yard and the city beyond.

He was planning something. Kat had learned early McCready always stood in that exact position when he was thinking up yet another plot or scheme.

A shiver ran down her spine, but Spider was still eyeing her, so she didn’t let it show. Instead, she raised a challenging brow at him and turned away before striding down the corridor.

Whatever McCready was planning, instinct told her it was about Wyatt.

She’d been faced with too many challenges to her humanity today. First Ruthie, now Wyatt. And she didn’t know what to do. She’d fought too hard—made too many terrible choices and done terrible things—to throw it all away so close to the finish line. The years of degradation and abuse would be for nothing if she threw her lot in with Ruthie or Wyatt. McCready would find out. He always did. And then what would happen to her?

She’d disappear like all those who had moved against McCready before her.

She needed to stay strong. Wyatt could look after himself. He was making his own choices. And Ruthie? Kat’s stomach soured. She didn’t know what she’d do about Ruthie, but she couldn’t jeopardise her chance at escaping this tyrant. Ruthie, too, would learn to look after herself and then eventually be free.

If she wasn’t killed or broken first.

Kat swallowed, trying to recage the empathy she’d managed to keep locked up for so long. She was determined not to risk her position for anyone.

She only had a few more months left. And then she would, finally, be free.

Free of all the pain and misery she’d lived in the last five years. Free of all the horror she’d endured.

Free.

 

 

Wyatt was summoned to McCready’s house for another party directly after the next fight. He was exhausted and bruised from going toe-to-toe with Chen in the ring, but he couldn’t refuse the invitation—given it was more of an order than an invitation anyway.

The mansion looked much the same as it had last time, he noted as he steered his car up the long drive in his beat-up twenty-year-old car. Floodlights streamed down, illuminating the exterior of the huge house, while light spouted from strategically-placed bulbs throughout the garden.

As Wyatt got closer to the house, the cameras on the exterior became increasingly obvious. McCready was clearly paranoid about security, and Wyatt congratulated himself on not breaking into the place when he’d first heard McCready’s name in connection with his brother’s. It would have ended in disaster, even if he had found something.

One of the girls—not Kat—was acting as a valet, so Wyatt handed over his keys to her and headed inside.

Loud, thumping music hit his ears first. Then, the underlying chatter of voices. He rounded the corner and finally caught sight of the room. If Wyatt had thought the previous party was over-the-top, he’d been mistaken. There were at least twice as many people here now, more women, more booze, more drugs sitting out in the open. Wyatt recognised a lot more of the guests, too, as local politicians and prominent businessmen, so clearly this party was a much bigger deal.

He glanced around the room, searching for McCready. The sooner he could prove to his host that he’d made an appearance, the sooner he could go home.

Wyatt eventually caught sight of him in the corner, flanked by Spider and Weston as he surveyed the room. He turned to Spider and murmured something, and Spider slipped off to deal with whatever McCready wanted.

It left room for Wyatt to slip up to his side. When McCready turned, Wyatt gave him a nod in greeting, reluctant to shout over the pounding music. He was already developing a headache from being in proximity to the speakers.

McCready’s face cracked into a grin at the sight of him, and Wyatt’s suspicions instantly raised. McCready rarely smiled, and would have no reason to look so pleased at only the sight of him.

McCready bent forward and raised his voice over the music. Wyatt braced himself.

“I’m glad you’re here. I have a surprise for you later.”

Wyatt tensed. “Can you give me a hint?” he asked, trying to sound playful even as his heart started fluttering in panic.

McCready pulled back and gave him another smile that made Wyatt no less nervous. “No, but I think you’ll like it. Just got to wait until we have more privacy after the party.”

Wyatt nearly protested. He didn’t want to stay until after the party. He wanted to escape this world as soon as he could and shower away the sleaze and filth. But this could be the chance he was waiting for. The surprise could be an invitation to join McCready’s crew, or at least to participate in the test Spider had hinted at.

Wyatt forced a smile onto his face. “Great,” he managed.

McCready nodded and looked away. Wyatt took that for a dismissal and strode away, already cursing his decision to come tonight. But really, what choice did he have? Though this world wasn’t something he’d normally want to be a part of, he had to remind himself he was undercover. Cops did this kind of thing every day, infiltrate awful places by pretending to be someone they weren’t. Like them, he was doing this for a good cause.

The difference was Wyatt didn’t have any official backing. He was on his own in this. If he got caught, he was probably dead. If things went south, there was no extraction plan.

And like his brother, he’d probably end up disappearing off the face of the earth.

Wyatt knew, after spending time with McCready, that Dean was probably dead. He’d heard the rumours about McCready’s reputation, the whispers about what happened to those who defied him. And the longer Wyatt spent in the man’s company, the more he knew they weren’t exaggerations.

But even if Dean was dead, Wyatt still needed to know what happened. He needed a body to show his parents, so they’d stop living in hope he’d return. Not that hope was a bad thing, even false hope. However, his parents were both living in a stasis while they waited for Dean to show up on their doorstep.

They wanted to go on a cruise, but wouldn’t in case Dean came back and they missed him. They rarely left the house together anymore, tag teaming so someone was always home. Even an hour away for dinner left them wracked with guilt. Before Dean disappeared, they’d mentioned the idea of possibly moving to Florida, but now, of course, they couldn’t bear to sell the house and move away.

It was affecting their whole lives, and Wyatt had no idea how much longer they’d live like this, perking up any time the doorbell rang, only to be disappointed all over again. It was killing them.

Not that Wyatt had totally given up hope Dean was still alive. Perhaps he’d escaped McCready’s clutches, and was hiding away, not contacting his family for fear of endangering them. But the hope faded more each day, and Wyatt was a realist. He could admit his brother was most likely gone for good. But he had to find proof for his parents, as cruel as it made him feel.

Wyatt had already lost his brother, and he didn’t think he could handle losing his parents, too.

He headed out towards the open deck, hoping the fresh air would clear his head and help him focus on getting through tonight.

Before he could make it outside, an arm wrapped around his waist and a slim body pressed itself again him. Wyatt automatically put his hand against the woman’s lower back to steady her, encountering bare skin. He knew instantly it was Kat, and his surprise turned to confusion.

“Kat?” he asked.

She stood on tiptoes, and her lips brushed against his ear. “Don’t trust McCready tonight. He’s suspicious of you.”

Wyatt looked at her sharply, only mildly distracted by the feel of her body against his. The memory of their kiss flared to life within him. Her soft lips and body. The way she’d fit perfectly in his arms. And the heated imaginings that had sprung into his mind the second her lips had touched his. They’d be good together, he knew.

He flattened his palm against her back, unable to resist. Her scent permeated the thick haze of smoke in the room; roses, maybe, and honey. His skin tightened, and he had to force himself not to pull her hard against him and kiss her within an inch of her life.

Not now, maybe not ever. She’d been through so much while under McCready’s control, and Wyatt didn’t know if she’d ever be the same again. Would she even want to be touched? Or would sex be abhorrent to her? He had no way of knowing.

“Why do you say that?” he asked instead, focusing on the moment at hand.

She laughed as if he’d said something funny, and the back of Wyatt’s neck prickled. McCready was watching them.

“I heard him talking,” she said, tightening her arms around him. “They’re planning on testing you.”

“Any idea what the test is?”

She pulled back to look at him and shook her head. Her smile was tight and clearly fake from this distance, and Wyatt hoped McCready couldn’t tell from wherever he was. Wyatt didn’t dare look his way.

“Be on the lookout.” With that, she planted a firm kiss right on Wyatt’s lips. Before he had a second to react, she’d pulled away and disappeared into the crowd, patting his butt on the way.

Wyatt blinked, trying to process everything that had just happened. The lure of the cool air had him stumbling outside. He made his way around the edge of the deck and into the dark corner where the floodlights didn’t quite reach. He leaned against the railing and looked out over McCready’s domain.

At the first hit of the fresh air, Wyatt’s mind began to work again.

He’d been right, McCready planned to test him. And since Spider said being tested was a normal part of the process before he would be accepted into the inner circle, Wyatt couldn’t help but think this was a positive step forward.

Knowing there was a test didn’t really change much. Either way, he’d still have to go through with whatever it was, and be prepared for anything.

More importantly, Kat had seemed to forgive him for their argument the other night. He knew he’d been too hard on her, but he wanted an ally in his fight against McCready, and it was frustrating to know she could help but was choosing not to. He got it, he did. He was being selfish. Undercover work was more lonely than he’d expected. He couldn’t tell his old friends on the outside too much about what he was doing. It risked blowing his cover, and connections to his old life made it harder to immerse himself in this one.

But there was no one in McCready’s circle he could trust enough to confide in. No one except Kat. If he picked the wrong person to tell his secrets to and they spilled his ulterior motive to McCready, he was a dead man, no question. He was already taking risks, and he couldn’t afford to be careless because he wanted a friend.

No, he had to go this alone. The quicker he could pass whatever McCready’s test was, the sooner he could get out of this life and back to his old one. If Kat wanted to help, great, but he knew he couldn’t rely on her. Not really.

No matter how much he might want to.

 

Kat glanced at McCready to see if she’d gotten away with her little deception, only to find he was looking right at her. She smiled automatically, not allowing her nerves to show, before pretending to scan the room.

She needed to lay low, and stop getting involved in other people’s drama. The only reason she was still alive and only a few months away from freedom was because she hadn’t defied McCready over the last few years. She’d rebelled a few times at first, but once she’d learned her lesson she’d been almost squeaky clean.

So why, between Wyatt and Ruthie, was she now risking everything she’d worked for? It was madness.

As if thinking of Ruthie conjured her, the young woman appeared in her line of vision, sitting on a couch next to an older man with his arm around her. Ruthie’s back was straight, her eyes wide like a cornered rabbit.

Kat told herself to ignore it. Ruthie would have to learn eventually. But she clearly wasn’t ready for what that would entail, not if this was how she reacted to her shoulder being stroked. If the man touched her anywhere else, it could end in disaster for Ruthie.

Kat sighed, but her mind was already made up. She picked up a drinks tray and moved through the crowd, handing alcohol to everyone she passed until she was standing in front of Ruthie and Senator Phillips.

“Hi Senator,” she said with her best flirty smile. She’d been tasked with entertaining him before and knew what he liked.

He leaned forward, his arm slipping away from Ruthie. As much as the senator liked pretty young girls, he liked attention more.

“I remember you,” the senator said with a slur. He might remember her, but clearly not her name. Kat couldn’t bring herself to care.

“You’re looking particularly handsome tonight,” she lied. “And I was impressed with your speech yesterday.” Another falsehood, but Phillips couldn’t tell. And he didn’t seem to notice Ruthie inching away from him.

“Thank you,” the senator said, straightening his tie but only skewing the knot even further from centre. “I wrote it myself.”

Kat knew for a fact he hired speech writers, but she didn’t mention it. Ruthie had nearly escaped.

“Well, it was excellent. I’d love to hear your thoughts on the proposed amendments to the tax bill sometime.”

Panic crossed his face. “Yeah, of course,” he said vaguely, his gaze shifting over her shoulder.

Kat’s first real smile of the evening crossed her face. She’d bet real money Senator Phillips had no idea what was in that tax bill, nor did he care. He was a senator for the perks, not for the people. Kat could probably answer the questions better than he could. There was a reason he rarely did town halls and interviews, because his ignorance would be exposed if he did.

“We could even do it now if you—”

The senator stood abruptly. “I think I see someone I need to speak to. It was nice to see you again, err…” He trailed off, still unable to remember her name. “Well, it was nice to see you.”

He moved across the room as if a rabid dog—or an eager constituent—was on his tail. Kat sent a self-satisfied grin in his direction, then glanced around for Ruthie.

The younger woman was huddled by the wall with her arms wrapped around her bare midriff. She smiled shakily in Kat’s direction when their gazes caught. Empathy hit Kat. She tried to ignore it, but it was no use. She couldn’t leave Ruthie on her own.

“Thank you,” Ruthie muttered as Kat leaned against the wall next to her. “I don’t know what I would have done if…well.”

Kat squeezed her arm. “You would have survived, as we all have. I know it’s hard, but…” She stopped and sighed. “I don’t know how long I can protect you. If you’re going to come up with a plan to get out, do it soon.”

Ruthie eyed her. “You won’t try to stop me?”

“I don’t want you to be here, either. It’s…I’m worried if you get caught, you’ll be even worse off than if you’d stayed and kept your mouth shut. That’s all.”

Ruthie narrowed her eyes, but didn’t storm off. Maybe she was finally understanding that Kat wanted to protect her, in her own way.

Kat was about to reiterate that point when Spider appeared in front of them, his eyes on Ruthie. Kat straightened, knowing what was coming. Ruthie must have known, too, because she shrank further into herself.

“So, New Girl. Don’t you think it’s time we got to know one another?”

Ruthie shook her head, so small the movement could have been passed off as a twitch.

Kat shifted partially in front of Ruthie in a protective gesture to turn Spider’s attention to her. His gaze shifted, eyes angry.

“Don’t you want to give her a bit of time to get used to all of this?” Kat asked, knowing she sounded a little desperate.

Spider scoffed. “Better to break her in now, get it over with.”

Spider’s words, and the sentiment, were so close to what Kat herself had said to Ruthie that she stood frozen in shock. Is that who she’d become? Spider? She couldn’t imagine anything worse. And yet there it was, the two of them saying almost identical words without him even knowing it.

Kat’s stomach roiled. She was going to be sick.

Spider took advantage of her distraction and reached around her to grab Ruthie’s arm. Kat hardly noticed, stumbling out of the way as he wrenched Ruthie forward.

Ruthie’s eyes pleaded with Kat as she was led away, but Kat couldn’t think of anything she could do or say to stop this. Spider wouldn’t listen to her. McCready would sooner kill her than stop Spider doing something he encouraged. Unless she wanted to physically take on Spider herself? That would end with her dead just as quick.

The switch had flipped. Kat could no longer let McCready, Spider, and all these men get away with what they were doing. She couldn’t turn a blind eye. Even if she jeopardised her own escape from this prison, there had to be a way for her to help Ruthie, and to destroy McCready. She’d play along as best she could, but there had to be a way.

Spider and Ruthie disappeared at the top of the stairs. She didn’t have much time.

Her eyes found Wyatt in the crowd, where he was lounging on one of McCready’s white sofas. Should she ask for help? No, she couldn’t risk that. Wyatt was here on his own mission. She couldn’t put him in danger to help her, not when what he was doing was important, and might help bring McCready down.

No, she had to do this herself.

The question was how?

 

 

Wyatt watched as Kat sidled around the couches where strung-out people lounged back, vague eyes staring. People passed between him and Kat, blocking his view for a moment. Once it was clear, he saw she had a needle in her hand full of a golden-brown liquid.

Wyatt frowned. He hadn’t taken Kat for a junkie. But then she disappeared along the corridor Spider had gone down with a woman a few minutes earlier, and he had to admit she most likely was.

He tried to shrug it off, to not be judgmental given what she was going through, but drugs were never something he’d been comfortable with.

Someone sank onto the couch next to him and Wyatt glanced over to see Doc. He clutched a crystal glass with a white-knuckled grip, and Wyatt was afraid the glass would shatter in Doc’s hands.

“You okay?” he asked casually as he looked up into Doc’s face. The older man’s eyes were wide and panicked, and he looked pretty far from okay.

Doc didn’t seem to notice the question. He glanced away from Wyatt and back to the glass.

“Maybe you should have a drink?” Wyatt suggested over the noise of the room.

Doc shook his head and gingerly set his glass on the coffee table in front of them. “No, I never touch the stuff.”

Doc’s gaze was slowly fading from the wild-eyed stare into something more normal now the glass was out of his hand.

Wyatt frowned. “Then why carry it around?” he asked.

Doc sighed. “People keep handing them to me. I don’t know whether it’s deliberate, to tempt me, or not. But either way, it works.”

Given that the women handing out drinks didn’t seem to pay any attention to their customers, Wyatt could see it being an honest mistake. But McCready’s watchful gaze travelled over the room, lingering on Doc, so then again maybe not.

“Why would they want to tempt you?” Wyatt asked, not taking his eyes from McCready.

Doc shrugged. “I suppose I’m easier to keep in line that way. Easier to manipulate.”

Wyatt nodded. That sounded like McCready’s style. “So how long have you been sober?” he asked.

“The better part of ten years, with a few relapses here and there. But the craving never goes away.”

“Right,” Wyatt replied, curious but not wanting to pry.

“So why do you come to these parties?”

Doc gave him a sardonic look. “Do you think I have a choice?”

Wyatt thought of the way McCready had summoned him, leaving no room to say no, and shook his head.

“McCready’s a hard man to deny.”

“Yes. But I thought you’d be smarter than to get caught up in it all. I thought you’d be like DJ, and Alexei, and Chen, staying on the fringes of this world so you could still leave if you chose.”

Wyatt’s stomach tightened. “I don’t understand.”

“I just…” Doc started. He fisted his shaking hands and held them tightly in his lap. “Be careful you don’t get caught up in it all.”

Wyatt’s brows tugged down as he studied Doc.

“What do you mean?”

Doc twisted his hands as he met Wyatt’s gaze. “I can tell McCready is considering you for his inner circle. And I can also tell you are trying to make that happen.”

Wyatt drew in a breath to ask how Doc knew that, what he’d heard, but Doc continued before he could get the words out.

“Don’t get caught up in it. You seem like an okay kid. I don’t want you ending up like so many others.”

Wyatt’s gut sank at the words. “What do you mean?” he breathed out. Did Doc know what had happened to the people who had disappeared? To his brother?

Doc cleared his throat. “I mean, no matter how safe you think you are, no matter how much you think McCready likes you, he can turn on you in a moment and you’d never see it coming. The things I’ve seen…”

Wyatt gripped Doc’s elbow. “What did you see?”

Doc swallowed and shook his head. “He’ll kill me if I say.”

“Please,” Wyatt said. When Doc stayed silent, his eyes darting around as if looking for an escape, Wyatt threw caution to the wind. “I heard the name Dean bandied about. Do you know what happened to him?”

Doc’s attention snapped back to him. “Where did you hear that name?” His voice was an urgent hiss.

“It doesn’t matter. You know, don’t you?”

Doc stood abruptly. “Don’t mention that name again. If you do—”

He broke off, his eyes fixed on something behind Wyatt, where the front door was. His faced paled. Wyatt swivelled in his seat but couldn’t see anything, so he stood to see over the crowd.

Weston plowed through the crowd, dragging a young, nervous-looking man behind him. The newcomer was too-thin, had long straggly hair, and a piercing in his left eyebrow. His clothes were torn, and Wyatt couldn’t tell if they were worn from use or designed that way. Perhaps a bit of both.

But nothing about the man explained why Doc looked so shocked to see him. No, not shocked. Worried.

No one else noticed the young man with Weston. The party continued on around them as Weston made his way over to McCready. If it hadn’t been for Doc’s reaction, Wyatt wouldn’t have paid any attention, either. But now he found himself riveted, waiting for whatever would come.

“Who is he?” Wyatt murmured to Doc.

“I don’t know,” Doc replied. He finally tore his gaze from the young man and looked back at Wyatt. “And neither should you.”

“But—”

“I came over here to warn you, that’s all. There’s nothing else I can do for you. Or for that young man, whatever he might have done. So, let it go. Walk away.”

Doc’s eyes were pleading. The older man was trying to protect him in the only way he knew how, but Wyatt couldn’t take his advice. Even if he wanted to.

“If you tell me what happened to Dean, then I’ll walk away.”

Doc shook his head. “Sorry, kid.”

He turned to go, but Wyatt grabbed his arm to spin him back around. “Why are you protecting him? McCready? If you’re warning me away, you obviously don’t agree with what he does. So why protect him? Just tell me.”

“I can’t.”

“What are you so afraid of?”

Doc let out a harsh laugh. “Afraid? I suppose I am. But not of McCready. He was the only one to give me a chance after I lost my medical license. I owe him everything. It may not be the way I envisioned practicing medicine, but it’s still something. It was always my passion and my calling, and now I can continue with it despite what happened.”

Wyatt recoiled. He’d expected better from Doc. He’d never imagine a man who hated his position here as much as anyone, who went out of his way to warn Wyatt not to get involved, would be here out of loyalty. It took him a few seconds to process. And when he did, he acknowledged it made an odd kind of sense.

People were complicated, and nothing was black and white. Doc could have intense gratitude for McCready while still hating the things he’d done. Wyatt couldn’t ever see himself making the same choice. But, then, he’d never been as low as Doc clearly had.

But Doc’s words made Wyatt realise he couldn’t trust the man. Not if his priority was staying loyal to McCready. Even if Doc did care for him, that would only stretch so far.

“What did happen?” Wyatt asked suddenly curious what could sink a man so low he’d give everything to McCready. “People guess and speculate, but I’d like to hear it from you.”

Doc scoffed. “Are you kidding? You’re a smart kid, you can put it together.” His voice was laced with bitterness.

“I assume it had to do with your drinking?”

Doc nodded.

“You killed a patient because you were drunk?” he guessed.

Doc nodded again. “A little girl,” he whispered.

The words were like a punch to the gut. “Shit.”

“Yes. And while I’ll never forgive myself for that, at least I can continue to make amends.”

“By working for McCready?” Wyatt asked, disbelieving.

Doc nodded. “I’m helping you all. Saving you.”

Wyatt laughed. “You’re not here to help people. You’re here to punish yourself.”

Doc stared at Wyatt in shock.

Wyatt continued. “The people here are criminals. Violent, drug-addicted, manipulative, you name it. Some aren’t bad, like Kat and Chen, but they’re still broken, and have done bad things. Why else would they be here?”

Doc raised an eyebrow. “Don’t forget, you’re one of these criminals. You might find it easy to judge, but most people are here as a last resort, and wouldn’t be here if they had any other options. You shouldn’t cast stones.”

Wyatt stared at him in shock. He bit back angry words, wanting to tell him it wasn’t true, that he wasn’t like the other people here. But what could he say? He was here, fighting in illegal fights, hurting other men for the amusement of rich folks. He wasn’t doing it for money, sure, but he doubted many of the guys he’d met were—and women like Kat certainly weren’t. They were doing it to survive, which was perhaps even more noble than his own mission.

He’d been so judgemental since he came into this world, thinking he was better than Kat, and Doc, and all the others here. But the truth is that he wasn’t. And he needed to accept that.

“You’re right,” he said.

Doc gave him a long look, then nodded. He looked like he was about to say something else, but then he sighed and disappeared into the crowd.

Wyatt glanced back at Weston and McCready, only to see they were finishing up their conversation with the young man. McCready jerked his head, apparently an order Weston understood, because he grabbed the young man and hauled him back the way they’d come a few minutes before. McCready watched them go.

Wyatt was curious, but not enough so to follow. Whatever the two men were doing, it wasn’t important enough for Wyatt to risk McCready’s wrath.

He needed to stay at this party until the bitter end.

 

 

Kat crept down the corridor to Spider’s room, the syringe clutched tightly in her right hand. It had been the only way she could think of to drop Spider and keep him there for the night, giving Ruthie another day of grace.

She cracked open the door to his bedroom.

Spider was facing away from her, gripping Ruthie hard on her upper arms. Ruthie squirmed, turning her head away as Spider bent to kiss her.

“Stay still,” he growled, displeased. He pushed Ruthie, and she stumbled back into the bed. Spider stalked towards her, his big body lumbering. Ruthie stared up at him, fear written across her face.

Spider went for his belt and Kat shuddered. She didn’t want to see this. But it would be better for her to wait until Spider was more distracted. She didn’t want to risk being seen, or Spider would tell McCready what she did. Luckily there were no cameras in Spider’s room. No need for them, because Spider was loyal to McCready without having to be blackmailed.

“I’m going to enjoy training you,” Spider said, rubbing himself through his jeans.

He fell on top of Ruthie, pawing at her. The young woman struggled weakly against his bulk.

Kat swallowed bile and opened the door wide enough for her to fit through. She clutched the syringe tighter and crept forward. Ruthie’s eyes widened when she saw Kat over Spider’s shoulder, but Kat put her finger to her lips to silence the younger woman.

“That’s it,” Spider crooned as Ruthie stopped struggling, her eyes focused on Kat.

Kat froze as Spider stilled. She was nearly at the bed, but still a few steps away. Why did these damn rooms have to be so huge?

It must have clicked for Ruthie that she needed to provide a distraction and she started struggling again, more violently this time. Kat gave her a grateful smile as Spider grunted in annoyance. Right before Kat reached him, he drew back his beefy hand to smack Ruthie into submission.

But Kat didn’t let him unleash it. She stepped behind him and aimed the syringe at a vein in his neck. The needle pierced his skin right on his tattoo, disguising the mark.

Spider stiffened. Kat depressed the syringe, letting the liquid flow straight into his bloodstream. She was grateful for her nurse’s training, to get the dosage right, and hit a vein instead of an artery. She didn’t want to accidentally kill him. Not yet, anyway.

Spider slumped over Ruthie with a groan. Kat helped Ruthie get out from underneath his heavy bulk, and then the two hurried out of the room while Spider moaned on the bed.

Kat shut the door behind them. The second they were alone, Ruthie threw her arms around Kat, who stumbled slightly.

“Thank you thank you thank you,” Ruthie said, squeezing Kat tight.

Kat sighed and hugged her back. “You’re welcome.”

She wanted to tell Ruthie she couldn’t promise to do the same again next time, she couldn’t keep defying Spider and McCready, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, she basked in the feeling of having done the right thing, of being on the right side. She let it settle into her, to cleanse her of the horror that had overcome her earlier when Spider had voiced words so similar to her own.

Her actions tonight weren’t enough to erase what she’d done—or more importantly what she hadn’t done up until that point—but it was a start.

“We have to go,” she told Ruthie. “Before someone finds us here.”

Ruthie nodded, but held on a moment longer. “Thank you,” she whispered again.

Kat blinked away tears at the words, so moved by Ruthie’s gratitude. She didn’t feel worthy of it, knowing she’d only done the basic minimum of what was right. But the sentiment warmed her nonetheless.

“Let’s go.” She nudged Ruthie, who reluctantly stepped away. Kat led her down the stairs and back to the party room, slipping in the back as if nothing had happened. The party had started to disperse while they’d been gone, the crowd having thinned out. Ruthie followed Kat as she manoeuvred through the room, and Kat turned back.

“We have to stay apart so it’s not so suspicious,” she said to the younger girl. Ruthie looked disappointed for a second, but then lit up.

“It’s like we’re partners in crime!” she said.

In that instant, Kat was reminded of how young Ruthie was, and she swallowed. She’d definitely done the right thing.

“Something like that. But remember, you still have to pretend. McCready can’t know. Pretend you’re a spy, or an actress playing a part. You can do that, right?”

Ruthie hesitated a second, but then nodded determinedly. Kat smiled sadly. That’s what she had been doing all these years, playing a part to protect herself. And it had made her the hard, awful person she’d never wanted to become. She didn’t want the same thing to happen to Ruthie. But at the same time, what else could she do? It was the only way to survive.

Ruthie hurried off, grabbing a tray as she did so. She threw herself into the role with more enthusiasm than Kat had seen from her yet.

Kat barely had a second to worry before a loud whistle sounded through the room, grabbing everyone’s attention.

McCready stepped forward. “Now I have everyone’s attention…an announcement. And a surprise for a friend of mine.”

Fear clutched at Kat’s chest as McCready’s gaze turned to Wyatt.

Kat had a terrible feeling she knew what would come next.

 

 

Silence followed McCready’s pronouncement. All eyes turned to Wyatt, where he was still lounging on the couch, but now on high alert. McCready’s gaze, in particular, was intense as it fixed on him.

A chill ran down Wyatt’s spine. McCready looked so pleased with himself that Wyatt knew he wouldn’t like whatever came next. But this is what he’d come for. Whatever test or challenge McCready threw at him, he’d meet it. And he would find out what happened to his brother.

As the silence stretched, the crowd began shuffling impatiently. A few people even moved towards the door, clearly nervous about what the vibe in the room might mean. Wyatt didn’t blame them, even wished he could follow them. McCready ignored their exit, too focused on Wyatt.

“As you might know,” McCready continued, speaking to the room at large but still staring at Wyatt. “I rarely take new people into my inner circle. The privileges that come with the role are vast, and not everyone deserves them.”

McCready paused and looked around at his guests. Wyatt took the opportunity to find some familiar faces in the crowd. Doc was to the left, looking worried. Weston had returned, and was standing behind McCready with a darkly satisfied smile. Spider was nowhere to be seen.

And Kat. She was on the opposite side of the room to Doc. Her gaze was one of the few not on McCready, it was locked on him. Wyatt struggled to make out her expression in the dim light, but he could see she was tense. Worried, even.

Her anxiety ratcheted up his own. His palms grew damp with sweat and he surreptitiously wiped them on his jeans.

McCready returned his gaze to Wyatt, who itched to stand. His seated position made him feel like he was ceding power to McCready, and this was not a time for that.

“I believe Wyatt here will be a good fit for our little team.” He raised his champagne glass in Wyatt’s direction. Wyatt took the opportunity to stand, pasting a smile on his face as he moved toward McCready.

McCready took the hand Wyatt held out to shake and Wyatt hoped the other man didn’t notice his damp palms.

“Thank you,” he said, and tried to relax. This is what he’d wanted, he reminded himself yet again as the urge to flee dogged at him. The sooner he got into McCready’s inner circle, the quicker he’d find out what happened to Dean and he could disappear.

But McCready wasn’t done, and that’s what Wyatt had been most afraid of.

“I expect you all to treat Wyatt with the respect you treat my other fighters. Anything he wants is his.”

Wyatt glanced around the room at all the faces showing a mix of boredom, disappointment, and anticipation. What were they all thinking? This didn’t concern most of the people here, yet clearly McCready had wanted an audience for something. Was it for this announcement, or was there something more? McCready had mentioned a surprise, but Wyatt hoped this announcement would be it.

The tension in the room tightened further, and Wyatt knew there was more to come.

McCready clapped a hand on Wyatt’s shoulder. “This will only be a trial period, of course. I need to know for sure whether he’d be a good fit. But that doesn’t mean he shouldn’t be treated like a king.”

He was laying it on thick, which raised Wyatt’s suspicions. He glanced at Kat, and she looked even more nervous than he did.

“So, here’s to Wyatt,” McCready said, raising his glass. “The newest member of my team.”

There was a half-hearted cheer. Clearly everyone wanted to get back to the party, and cared nothing for this whole production McCready was putting on for reasons Wyatt still couldn’t grasp.

Wyatt turned to McCready. “Thanks again. I won’t disappoint you.” He figured that would be the appropriate thing to say.

“I hope not,” McCready said in a low voice, tightening his fingers painfully on Wyatt’s shoulder. Wyatt understood the implied threat immediately, so he swallowed and nodded. McCready released him, seemingly satisfied, and turned back to the room.

“To celebrate, I’d like to give my new friend a gift.”

Wyatt’s skull prickled. He leaned over. “That’s really not necessary,” he hissed, attempting to reject the offer without offending. Whatever the gift was, he didn’t think he’d like it.

“Nonsense,” McCready replied with a predatory smile. “As my gift, I would like to offer you any of my women for the night.”

The words entered the room like a falling anvil. Suddenly, Wyatt understood the need for an audience. This was his first test; his first real chance to prove he was on McCready’s side, and agreed with his lifestyle. If he refused the ‘gift’, McCready would know instantly Wyatt wasn’t one of them.

Maybe he could’ve weaselled out of it if he’d been alone with McCready. But with all eyes on them, it would be rude to refuse the apparent gift, and too obvious he was avoiding it.

McCready had arranged it well.

“What’s wrong?” McCready asked. “You won’t refuse will you?”

Wyatt shook his head. “Just trying to decide.” He made a show of looking all the women in gold up and down.

“Well, we won’t wait forever. Decide quickly.”

Or what? Wyatt longed to ask, but didn’t dare. He sighed. There was really only one decision he could make.

“Her,” he said, pointing at Kat.

McCready’s smile widened. “An excellent choice.” McCready glanced at Kat with something close to dislike in his eyes, and realisation slammed into Wyatt like a fist. McCready had known—or at least suspected—Wyatt would choose Kat. And this moment was as much a punishment for her as a test for him.

He’d wanted to humiliate her publicly in front of this crowd, wanted to show her he had power over her, owned her body and her soul.

And Wyatt had played into his hands.

His stomach roiled at the thought. But Kat stepped forward, her chin high as she stared him down. His heart kicked in his chest. He liked her defiance, her strength. They appealed to him far more than all the bare skin she had on display.

“Well, you two have fun,” McCready said, stepping back. “Kat, you know what’s expected.”

The hot burn of humiliation flowed through him, but Wyatt tried to ignore it. Instead, he walked over to Kat and held out his arm for her, as if she were a 19th-century lady, and he was the gentleman escorting her. She took it with great dignity, and they walked along the hall and away from the people watching their every step.

 

 

Kat led Wyatt down the corridor, up a flight of stairs, and to her bedroom. McCready’s final words rang in her head. She did know what was expected. McCready expected her to take Wyatt to her room and fuck him senseless.

But Kat didn’t want that, not really, not like this. She actually liked Wyatt, and she certainly found him attractive. If circumstances had been different, she might even have pursued him herself.

Instead, their time together would be tainted by McCready, by the situation. Kat found herself a little disappointed in Wyatt. She knew he didn’t have much of a choice, that when McCready gave you a gift, you had to accept. But couldn’t he have chosen another girl? One he didn’t know. Then she wouldn’t have to do this, knowing how things could be different between them.

The thought of Wyatt with another woman caused a jealous twist in her gut, surprising her. Oh God, she liked the guy even more than she’d realised.

Well, if they had to do this, then she’d make it as bearable as possible. Instead of pretending she was elsewhere, like she usually did, she could pretend she and Wyatt were two normal people, who met at a party and liked each other enough to start a relationship.

It wouldn’t be so bad. And if Wyatt was as good in bed as she suspected, with those muscles and intense looks he threw her way, then maybe at least she’d get something out of it.

Kat pushed the door to the bedroom open. As soon as she stepped inside, the red light of the camera switched on. She shuddered and pointedly looked away.

Wyatt came in behind her, looking around curiously at her room. Kat saw it through his eyes. The whole room was white. White carpet, white furnishing, white bedspread, white walls. There was nothing personal to be seen. No photos or knickknacks. A blank slate.

She intentionally kept it that way as a reminder not to get comfortable. This wasn’t her home. While some of the women in the house had finished out their sentences with McCready and elected to stay on, lured by the familiarity of something they’d known for so long and the easy life of luxury, Kat wouldn’t be one of them.

“So, we got through that relatively unscathed,” Wyatt said, smiling at her.

Kat sat on the edge of the bed and leaned back in expectation. “Yes.” She crooked her finger at Wyatt, and he stepped towards her, but his brows pulled into a scowl.

“What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?”

“We’re not actually doing this,” he said, as if it was obvious. “We should sleep.”

Kat stared at him with mingled relief and horror. He didn’t expect her to have sex with him because he could and it made her instantly like him again. But McCready was probably listening to their every word, and if Wyatt kept talking there was every chance he’d get them both into a load of trouble.

He sucked in a breath, clearly intending to say more on the topic, but Kat hopped up and threw herself into his arms before he could, kissing him soundly.

At first he didn’t kiss her back, but when she poked his side in warning he reluctantly opened his mouth to her. The kiss was wet and deep. And even though her head reminded her she was doing this for show, Kat sank into the kiss, enjoying Wyatt’s mouth against hers.

He was a good kisser, his tongue tangling with hers in a way that sent pulses of heat to her core. Her skin tightened and she deepened the kiss even further. Her hand slid under his shirt, touching his hot skin. She groaned, her mind already tumbling ahead to imagine what he’d feel like against her, naked.

The sound must have startled Wyatt, though, because he tore his mouth from hers. His head reared back so he could see her face.

“What are you doing?” he murmured, looking baffled.

Kat avoided looking at the camera, though it called to her. She had to hope Wyatt’s words were low enough not to be caught on the microphones scattered about the room.

“Let’s take a shower,” she said loudly. Then, she stepped out of Wyatt’s arms, instantly missing their warmth, and tugged him into the bathroom.

Wyatt stayed silent as she turned the taps on and tested the temperature. Then, without looking at him, she stepped under the stream, still in her gold bikini. Wyatt hadn’t moved.

“Get in here,” she said, eyes widening in warning.

Wyatt was smart enough not to voice his confusion. Instead, he pulled off his shirt, revealing his beautifully broad, muscled chest and the tattoos that dotted his skin. One day she’d ask about those, but now was not the time.

Next, he pulled off his jeans and let them pool on the floor. She’d never got such a good look at his thighs before. It had never been more apparent that he was a life-long athlete, since he was in such perfect shape. Her mouth watered.

He hesitated over his boxer briefs, but then left them on, stepping into the spray of hot water.

They were inches from each other, steam rising between them, water sluicing over them. Her breath quickened, and his eyes darkened as the water plastered her bikini even closer to her skin, moulding to every dip and curve.

But he still didn’t touch her.

“Why are we in the shower?” he asked.

Kat glanced around the room, making sure McCready hadn’t installed a camera since the last time she’d checked. “Because he’s watching us.” She kept her voice low so it wouldn’t rise above the sound of rushing water.

“McCready?” Wyatt asked with a frown.

“Yes. There’s a camera in my bedroom.”

Wyatt stepped back. “What?” he hissed.

Kat frantically pressed a finger to her lips. “Shhhh. I’m not supposed to tell you. He can’t know you know.”

Wyatt stared at her. “That’s so creepy. How do you live with it?”

She shrugged. “There’s a reason I’d do anything to get out of here.”

Wyatt nodded slowly. “I’m starting to understand that more and more. I’m sorry I was so hard on you.”

Tears sprung to her eyes, surprising her. She blinked them away. When was the last time someone had apologised to her? She couldn’t even remember.

“It’s fine. You didn’t know.”

“But I do now.”

“Yes. So you know I have to do whatever it takes to stay in his good books. Including going out there and fucking you.”

Wyatt growled, shock and annoyance slicing across his face. He stepped closer towards her until they were barely an inch apart. “I will not.”

Kat swallowed. “We have to. Do you know how much trouble I’ll get in if McCready knows we didn’t have sex? Even if you were reluctant, he’d expect me to seduce you.”

“Is that what he meant when he said you knew what was expected?”

Kat nodded, leaning back against the cool tiles behind her. Sympathy entered his expression and Kat looked away. It was too close to pity.

“You shouldn’t refuse, either,” she said harshly.

“Why not?”

“You want to pass his test, don’t you? Well, this is it. Or at least the first step. If you don’t do this, your charade will be over, and you’ll never find out what happened to your brother.”

Wyatt crossed his arms over his chest, and Kat was momentarily distracted by the play of muscles. “I can’t,” he said simply.

Kat made a sound of frustration. “Why not? Am I not hot enough? Remember you chose me.”

“I chose you because I knew you wouldn’t rat me out if I didn’t sleep with you.” He was growing annoyed now, but Kat kept pressing.

“So, it must be because you don’t find me attractive. Here I am, ready, willing—”

“Are you though?” Wyatt asked, voice deadly soft.

Kat stopped and blinked. “What?”

“Are you willing?”

“What do you mean?” she asked, but she was afraid she knew.

“What would happen if you said no to me? If you walked out of this room and didn’t come back?”

“I wouldn’t.”

“But if you did?”

Kat swallowed. “McCready would punish me,” she said in a small voice.

“Exactly,” Wyatt said, gripping her upper arms. “If you can’t say no without punishment, you can’t say yes, either. So I’m not doing it. I won’t sleep with you unless and until you can say no, but still choose to say yes.”

Kat blew out a long breath, her chest curiously tight. She was touched by the gesture, even though she knew it would screw things up for her with McCready. That Wyatt cared so much for her—for women—was like a breath of cool mountain air after being in a fetid cave of misogyny and exploitation.

Her heart took a tumble. Kat was perilously close to falling for this guy, teetering on the precipice. Part of it was a mild form of hero-worship, she knew this and recognised it. But most of it was him. His honour, his sweetness. His determination and strength. It wasn’t that he looked better in comparison to men like Spider or Senator Phillips. It was that he really was a good, decent man.

“So what do you suggest I do?” she asked him, voice pleading. “I can’t not sleep with you. McCready will know and I’ll be punished in a far worse way than what a night in your bed would be. I can’t imagine that would be much of a punishment. At least, I hope not.”

Wyatt cracked a grin. “I can guarantee it would be all pleasure, no punishment.” His voice went deep and rough on the word pleasure, sending a shiver down Kat’s spine and making her clit throb in response. As much as she appreciated his concern for her consent, she regretted she couldn’t sleep with him to ease the ache.

“Can we pretend we’re having sex in here, then go to sleep?” Wyatt asked, back to the problem at hand.

She shook her head. “No, McCready wants it on camera. For blackmail material later. Those are the rules.”

Wyatt dropped his head, his brow furrowed as if he was thinking. Kat slicked her hair back off her face as she waited for him to see she was right. There was no other option.

“Then we fake it,” he said.

“What?” Kat asked.

“Actors do it all the time, right? I’m sure we can convincingly fake some sex and an orgasm or two. But we’ll keep our clothes on under the covers.”

Kat stared at him, processing what he was saying. “It could work…” she said eventually, skeptical.

“Of course it will. McCready will be fooled, we won’t feel coerced, we all win.” He glanced over the edge of the glass shower wall into the bedroom beyond. “Decide quick, because I worry we’ve been in here too long.”

Kat let out a baffled laugh. “Okay, I guess we can try it.”

Wyatt grinned, pleased, and Kat’s heart tumbled all over again.

Yeah, she was in real trouble with this one.

 

 

They wrapped towels around themselves to disguise the fact they were still wearing underwear and headed straight for the bed. Kat got in first and flung the towel away once she was under the covers. Wyatt hesitated a second as he stared at her, wondering what the hell he was doing.

It was the only thing he could do, given the circumstances. But he felt like he’d stepped into some bizarre alternate reality where shit like this was normal. What kind of man would put cameras in an employee’s room? At the thought, Wyatt glanced up and scanned the ceiling. The camera was in the corner, disguised as a motion detector with a red light activated. He shivered at the sight, and couldn’t shake the feeling they were being watched.

He turned back to Kat, who was looking up at him with a question on her face. He shook his head, unable to answer. She’d told him there were microphones in here, too, so McCready would hear anything he said.

With a sigh, he pulled up the covers and slipped beneath them, discarding his towel as soon as his lower half was hidden. The wet fabric of his underwear chafed, but Wyatt refused to strip all the way off. He’d have to deal.

He rolled over to look at Kat, and for a single, breathless second, he forgot they were only faking it. She was propped on her elbow, her face seductive. Wet hair flowed over one shoulder, a perfect mix of casual and comfortable. Her breasts strained against the flimsy fabric of her bikini top, visible through the folds of her pristine white quilt.

Wyatt’s cock hardened at the sight. He willed it down, but it wouldn’t obey, responding instinctively to the beautiful woman an arm’s length away with an expression of pure sex.

This would be far more painful than he’d thought, to fake making love to a woman he wanted so badly. But he had to. For himself, for her. It wouldn’t be right any other way.

Wyatt moved closer, slipping his hand over the soft skin of her upper arm. He wanted to go carefully and slow, take his time exploring her, but that would be for later, if he ever got that chance. When the time was for them, not for McCready’s benefit.

On this occasion, it would be better to get it over and done with. Do just enough to convince McCready they’d had sex, and then go to sleep.

With that in mind, Wyatt lightly pushed Kat onto her back. He shuffled forward, over her left leg, until he was lying in the cradle of her thighs. He was careful not to let the quilt dip as he moved, or it would reveal their lack of nakedness.

He braced himself on his hands above her, staring at the beautiful woman lying beneath him as if she was his. He couldn’t let himself think that way, though. No matter how soft her eyes were as they looked at him.

She ran her hands over his rib cage and goosebumps rose where she touched. She grinned at him and did it again, playful and teasing. Shit, he wished this was for real.

He reached beneath the covers to adjust his painfully hardening cock as it strained against the damp fabric of the underwear.

“You’re so wet,” he said, pretending he was testing her readiness, then winced. It sounded super corny under the circumstances. And besides, would the guy he was pretending to be care whether she was enjoying herself? He doubted it.

Amusement danced in Kat’s eyes, and she pressed her lips together to stop herself from laughing. Wyatt couldn’t hold back a small chuckle, rolling his eyes at himself. At least, if they had to do this strange and uncomfortable thing, they were doing it together and having fun with it.

Usually, he’d go down on a woman at least once the first time they had sex. It was only right that he work to get her primed, and he always enjoyed a woman’s pleasure. But the character Wyatt was playing wouldn’t do that, not in this situation. And Wyatt deferred to his alter-ego’s way of handling things, knowing McCready would be analysing his every move. He needed this situation to be over and done with.

“Baby, get in me,” Kat said in a convincing attempt at a woman in the throes of lust. How many times had she been forced to pretend to enjoy herself in the bedroom, knowing her boss was watching her every move? Wyatt couldn’t even think about it.

Wyatt pretended to get his cock seated at her entrance and then gently thrust his hips.

“Oh,” said Kat, halfway between surprise and pleasure, even though he wasn’t actually touching her. He tilted his hips again and Kat bent her legs up on either side of him.

Wyatt didn’t think he’d ever felt so awkward in his life. He pressed his lips together to stop himself laughing, and his cheeks heated. How did actors do this on a regular basis? It was mortifying, particularly knowing someone was watching.

“That’s it, baby,” Kat crooned. Wyatt dipped his head, hiding his expression from the camera, still torn between amusement and embarrassment.

The worst of it was that he was also incredibly turned on. His cock was hard and aching and desperate for friction.

He gritted his teeth, determined to power through this. Looking up at Kat to remind himself where he was and what he was doing, Wyatt found her eyes were fixated on his with an intense stare. Their gazes locked. He increased the pace of his fake thrusts, and Kat moaned in response. Even the sounds she was making, though he knew they were fake, were causing deep pulses through his cock.

His breathing increased, as did hers, and Wyatt swore he saw her eyes dilate. Was she as affected by this as he was?

Impossible.

And yet her cheeks were flushed, something she couldn’t fake for the benefit of the cameras.

It was simply the scenario they’d placed themselves in that was affecting her, like a Pavlovian response. They were in a sexy situation, pretending to be sexy, and her body was reacting accordingly.

So was his. Wyatt turned his head away, unable to look at Kat any longer. Instead of thinking about Kat and the intimate position of their bodies, he thought about McCready, watching them through the camera at his back.

That went a long way towards dulling his lust. The more time he spent in McCready’s domain, the more he wanted to destroy him. Almost more than he needed to find out what happened to his brother.

Wyatt’s arms were shaking with the effort of holding himself up. He knew he’d probably get shit from McCready and his crew tomorrow if he finished this fake sex too soon, but he almost didn’t care. He wanted it to be over with.

Almost like she knew what he was thinking, Kat gave him a warning look. She wanted to maintain the charade a little longer. Well, then, she could take control.

Wyatt gripped Kat’s hips and rolled them until she was straddling him. He was careful to keep the quilt around their hips, to maintain the fiction of their nakedness.

Wyatt instantly regretted this new position. Kat’s core ground onto him and he winced in pleasure. She must have felt his erection, but thankfully didn’t seem shocked by it. She hesitated a moment, staring down at him. His cock was throbbing, and he desperately wanted to ease the ache. But not like this. Not while he and Kat were essentially unwilling porn stars for McCready’s power trip.

Kat eased herself up off Wyatt’s cock and began to move. Wyatt held himself still, determined not to thrust up with her, to build a rhythm. He hated his body was so out of his own control, but he forced his will upon it with an iron fist. He wasn’t willing to take advantage of this situation, no matter what.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Kat threw her head and gave a convincing impression of an orgasm. Her cries echoed through the room, and Wyatt squeezed his eyes shut as the sound made his cock harden to a painful degree.

He followed suit, weirdly self-conscious about his orgasms all of a sudden. Was that how everyone else did them?

He almost laughed, skin still hot from mingled lust and embarrassment. Instead, he helped Kat gracefully dismount and flop beside him on the bed.

He cupped her face and gently stroked her wet hair. His cock was still painfully hard, and Wyatt knew there was no chance of sleeping until he did something about that. But he wanted to bathe in the afterglow for a moment, even though he knew it was fake.

But the way Kat looked at him felt very real, deep with unexpressed emotions. Unfathomable eyes told him nothing about her reaction to what they’d just done. Any of a thousand emotions could be found in those depths, and he longed to ask her what she felt aloud. Would she one day be able to do that with him for real? Would she want him, after everything they’d been through? Or would he remind her of a time she’d rather forget? Wyatt was almost afraid to find out.

Wyatt rubbed his thumb across her cheek, then leaned over to press his lips against her forehead. She sighed in pleasure and his heart kicked in his chest. Wyatt wanted to do more, like kiss her for real. But this one small action was all he’d allow himself while they were on camera.

His cock was hard and insistent. It was like being a teenager again, with a boner he didn’t ask for and now had to deal with. But this situation was far more complicated and strange than those days.

Wyatt longed suddenly for some dry clothes, awkward in his sodden, uncomfortable underwear.

Kat must have seen him stiffen, because she stared at him with eyes holding questions he couldn’t answer.

She sighed and leaned over to pluck the towel from the floor. She wrapped it around herself, still careful to hide their underwear from the camera. She dug in a drawer and pulled out some silky fabric he couldn’t identify, then headed into the bathroom. He heard her move around, the toilet flush, the sink running, brushing her teeth. She walked out a few minutes later in a satin nightgown that barely covered her ass. Wyatt groaned.

She smiled a wicked smile, one that kicked his heartbeat up a notch. She had to know what she was doing to him. Then, she returned to her dresser and pulled out a pair of large tracksuit pants.

“These should fit,” she said, throwing them at him. He caught them, deliberately not asking who they’d belonged to. She rounded the bed and got under the covers, looking at him expectantly. Wyatt picked up the other towel and followed her lead of going into the bathroom.

Once the door was closed behind him, he finally freed his cock and gripped it hard. He groaned at the friction. He stroked himself hard, bracing himself with one palm against the mirror. His mind instantly went to Kat, wishing it was her hand—or better yet, her mouth—currently wrapped around his cock.

As he pumped himself, he couldn’t help but imagine the wet heat of her mouth surrounding him.

He squeezed tighter, almost coming then and there. Christ, he wanted Kat. And other than the kiss on the hood of the car, he had no idea how she felt about him. That had been more like a kiss of gratitude than true sexual magnetism. Did she not feel what he did, that pull between them?

Or if she did, maybe she couldn’t, or wouldn’t, act on it. Maybe sex was tainted for her now. He certainly wouldn’t blame her if that was the case, if she never wanted him.

But fuck, he wanted her.

His heart raced in his chest, pounding through him with intense, primal thoughts about Kat. About what might have happened if McCready hadn’t been watching them. About what it would be like to sink into her, hear her sounds of pleasure for real.

His breathing grew ragged.

He sped up his fist on his cock, thrusting into his hand. The base of his spine tightened, and Wyatt knew he was close. He kept the rhythm of his strokes going while he grabbed a tissue. Not a moment too soon as his cock spurted its release.

The mirror cooled his heated forehead as he leaned against it. He took a moment to catch his breath, clenching the tissue in his fist. He shouldn’t have done that. After all Kat had been through, she didn’t need some guy jacking off to thoughts of her in the bathroom. She’d been exploited enough.

But then he thought of that wicked smile she’d sent him. The one when she’d been facing away from the camera. It had been for him, and only him. She’d known the effect she’d had on him, and had worn that skimpy nightgown on purpose. At least, Wyatt was hoping he’d interpreted that correctly.

After a moment, he cleaned himself off, stripped fully out of his underwear, and then pulled on the tracksuit pants. He wished he could clean his teeth, but didn’t want to use her brush without asking, so just ran toothpaste over his teeth and gums and rinsed.

When he returned to the bedroom, Kat was lying on her back under the covers. The lights in the room were out, only the moonlight streaming through the window illuminated the room. She looked so mysterious there, her eyes dark pools as they stared at him. He slipped under the covers, shuffling closer to her but not daring to touch.

She’d been through so much. Now she was so close to escaping McCready’s clutches, she didn’t need a man like Wyatt lusting over her like so many of the others. She deserved her freedom from that, freedom to make her own choices. And Wyatt would accept whatever she chose, and keep himself under control.

There were so many things he wanted to say to her. Apologies, and questions, and conversations on the tip of his tongue. They all swirled between them, longing to be spoken. But he didn’t dare. Who knew if McCready was watching them now, even after their performance for his benefit? They’d have to find time tomorrow.

Presuming they’d passed McCready’s tests.

 

 

Kat woke early to the sun streaming through the sheer curtains on her window. She stretched and glanced over at Wyatt where he lay as far from her as he could get on the queen-sized mattress, facing away. His muscled, tattooed chest was on full display, the quilt having settled around his hips. He really was a beautifully-made man. Her heart dipped and tumbled again at the sight of him and Kat sighed softly.

Kat longed to reach out, to trace the ink on his skin and the dips and curves of his body. To wake him with a kiss. But she didn’t dare. She half-expected Wyatt would pull away from her now, after their strange encounter the night before. He’d barely touched her the whole time, and Kat was beginning to think she’d done something to cause it. Even now, with him lying as far from her as he could get, she thought perhaps his subconscious found her…unclean. Or something.

A lump formed in her throat and her stomach roiled. Last night had been odd and awkward and uncomfortable. But somehow she still craved the intimacy of a morning after, the kind she’d have if the two of them were in a normal relationship, instead of trapped in this awful world.

Instead, there was a gulf between her and Wyatt, and Kat was afraid she’d messed things up permanently. She hadn’t meant to, wasn’t even sure what she’d done. His hard erection had made it clear his body wanted her, but he’d definitely pulled away.

Perhaps the true extent of her life with McCready had finally become clear to him last night. Now, maybe, he couldn’t see past the things she’d done. He couldn’t forgive her. Not that it was his place to do that—she hadn’t done anything to him—but men were strange about ‘impure’ women. They prized virginal young girls instead. And though Kat had thought better of Wyatt, maybe he was as bad as the rest of them. Maybe he thought she was too tainted for his head to want, even though his body clearly desired her.

Sick with regret and a shame she knew she shouldn’t feel, Kat slid out of bed and away from Wyatt. She needed distance, to mend her crumbling heart and rebuild her walls. She was already in too deep with Wyatt, and she couldn’t risk getting her vulnerable heart broken.

She dressed as quietly as possible in jeans and a tank top, and headed downstairs. She found Ruthie in the kitchen, worrying her nails and staring off into the middle distance. She didn’t even seem to notice Kat walk in, she was so lost in her thoughts.

Kat started up the coffee machine and turned to the younger woman as she waited for it to brew.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

Ruthie started as she finally saw she wasn’t alone. “Yes. No. I don’t know.”

Concerned, Kat stepped forward. “Is this about last night? Did Spider try something again? I thought it would send him down for the night, but—”

Ruthie shook her head. “No, it’s…” She trailed off and glanced towards the open kitchen door. “Can we go somewhere to talk?”

Kat studied her face for a moment, before eventually agreeing. Dark circles shadowed her eyes, and her face was so pale.

“Let me grab my coffee.” They waited until it finished brewing, then Kat poured them both a mug. The day was bright as they stepped out into the garden, though the sun hadn’t warmed the air yet.

They walked away from the house until Kat deemed it safe to talk. It was too early for the gardeners to arrive, and no one else in the house was awake to interrupt them. No doubt they were sleeping off the excess of the night before.

“What’s wrong?” Kat asked immediately.

Ruthie swallowed, then took a sip of her coffee. “I don’t know. I think I might have seen something last night.”

“What?” Kat asked. “When?”

“After you left with that Wyatt guy.” Ruthie paused, eyeing Kat. “Are you okay?” she asked eventually.

“What do you mean?” Kat asked.

“About what you had to do last night. I heard people talking, saying they watched you and…” Ruthie looked away. “You saved me from doing it, and then you had to do it yourself.”

Kat’s heart melted. “Is that what has you so upset?” she asked. “Because I’m okay. Not only am I used to doing this kind of thing, but it wasn’t like that with Wyatt. Well, not really.”

Ruthie eyed her skeptically. “How can you defend him? He’s no better than Spider,” she said, bitterness lacing her tone.

Kat was torn between laughter and affection. She was touched Ruthie cared so much about her, but she had the wrong end of the stick when it came to Wyatt. No matter what he felt about her now, he’d respected her enough not to take the easy route and screw her for McCready’s benefit. But now Kat thought about it, maybe it hadn’t been about respecting her. Maybe it’d been about his own modesty, or perhaps he couldn’t bring himself to touch her because he thought her too tainted.

Her mind was so tangled about Wyatt, she couldn’t tell what was real and what she was projecting onto him. He hadn’t said anything other than he’d wanted to protect her, to give her the power to consent to anything that happened in that bed. But her instincts still told her there was something else, that he was pulling away and she didn’t know why.

She forced herself to only think about the good things, untainted by her speculations. One, Wyatt’s body wanted her, as evidenced by his delicious, rock-hard erection from last night. And two, he hadn’t taken advantage of her, even when she’d claimed she would have been okay with it.

If she kept her mind on those two things, Kat believed Wyatt was a good man and there was a chance for them. She couldn’t let her mind wander more anxious, speculative paths, no matter how much it might want to.

Kat didn’t know how to explain all that to Ruthie, though, so she forced a smile.

“I promise, I’m okay. And Wyatt is a better man than most.”

Ruthie reluctantly nodded in acceptance.

“Thank you for worrying about me, though. It’s very sweet.” In fact, she couldn’t remember the last time someone had worried about her, and what she had to do. A few weeks ago, no one would have. But now both Wyatt and Ruthie were looking out for her, concerned, and caring. It shifted and changed something within Kat. In a way, them caring about her had made her care about herself. But she wasn’t sure that was a good thing. Now that she cared about what happened to her—her own body—she wasn’t sure she could still do the things McCready required of her. She wasn’t sure she could survive the final few months of being beholden to him. And if McCready realised that, chances were she wouldn’t live to see her freedom.

Before, she could pretend all the things she had to do didn’t matter, didn’t affect her. But now, it did. And there was no escaping it. She was a changed woman, for better or worse, and Kat honestly feared it was for the worse.

But despite that, she felt better about herself, and her actions. Particularly about saving Ruthie from Spider. She was no longer numb and heartless. She was waking up, and connecting with people in a way she hadn’t in a long time.

She simply had to hope it wouldn’t get her punished or killed.

“So, is that everything?” she asked Ruthie kindly. “Just needed to reassure yourself I was okay?”

Ruthie hesitated, then shook her head. “No. I think I saw something last night. Something bad.”

Kat stiffened. “What kind of thing?”

Ruthie glanced around, clearly nervous. But no one was there to hear. “I think I saw a dead body,” she whispered.

Kat tensed. Any joy remaining in the morning was sucked out of the air until she could barely breathe. It wasn’t that she thought dead bodies were a rare occurrence in this world. In fact, she suspected McCready collected them like badges of merit. But he was also a clever man, and never let anyone have enough leverage on him to land him in serious trouble. That meant he tended to hide his worst offences—namely, the murders—behind closed doors, where women like Kat and Ruthie wouldn’t see them.

And if someone stumbled across something they shouldn’t see? Well, they weren’t alive to pose a threat to McCready for very long.

It was a long minute before Kat could form any words. “Did you recognise him?” Kat asked.

Ruthie shook her head. “I’d never seen him before.”

“And where did you see it?”

Ruthie’s eyes darted again. “In the garage.”

Kat cocked her head. “What were you doing in there?”

Ruthie shrugged with studied casualness. “After you left with…Wyatt, I went for a walk. I couldn’t be in that party any longer, I couldn’t. Without you there I didn’t know what would happen.”

Kat’s heart broke and guilt stabbed at her. She hadn’t given Ruthie much thought since she’d left the party last night, believing she would be fine since Spider was out of commission. But Ruthie wouldn’t have been comfortable with the pawing hands and leering attention of the other men, either. And McCready wouldn’t have hesitated to trade her off to anyone who asked.

“Did anyone try anything?” Kat asked urgently, gripping Ruthie’s upper arm, careful not to slosh her coffee.

Ruthie shook her head. “Well, a few got touchy-feely, but I dealt with those. I was worried about how they looked at me. What they might do if they got the chance, you know?”

Kat nodded. She knew better than most. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

Ruthie smiled. “Thanks to you. Anyway, I was looking for a place to hide out, and thought I’d do a little exploring. I found the garage. There were some gorgeous cars in there. They reminded me of my dad a bit. He’s always loved cars.” Her voice grew distant and wistful, and Kat knew she was remembering better times with her father. Her anger with him seemed to have disappeared, but Kat couldn’t tell if that was a good thing. She, personally, thought the man deserved the fury she’d seen in Ruthie when they’d first spoken of him. But anger could fester into something else, something that would poison Ruthie more than it would hurt him.

“And you saw the body there?” Kat prompted, getting Ruthie back on track.

Ruthie snapped her focus back to Kat. “Yes. He was just lying there. I mean, I didn’t check his pulse or anything, but there was blood on the floor beneath him, and he looked dead.”

Kat sucked in a breath. “That must have been awful. Are you okay?”

Ruthie nodded, looking shell-shocked. Her eyes were wide, her face pale, and her hands shook where they gripped the coffee mug. But she was holding it together.

“And you think he was murdered?” Kat asked.

“I didn’t get close enough to see any wounds, but why else would he be there?” She hesitated. “Do you think McCready killed him?”

Kat shrugged. “I think it’s more likely he got someone to do it for him. Spider, maybe, or Weston.”

Birds chirped, interrupting the silence as Ruthie thought about that. The peaceful sound was so incongruous to the conversation, making Kat feel eerily dissociated. Were they really here, casually discussing a potential murder?

She may have been with McCready for five years, but this was way out of her depth, far beyond anything she’d had to deal with before.

“What do we do?” Ruthie asked, turning to Kat as if she expected her to solve all the world’s problems.

Kat stared back at her, no idea how to reply. She was well out of her depth. She was tempted to wake Wyatt and tell him about the situation, but it would make sense for them to gather some more information first.

“How long ago did you see this guy?”

“I think it was about one in the morning,” Ruthie answered.

“And what did he look like? Maybe I know him.”

“He was thin, kinda scraggly looking. Long hair, a piercing in one eyebrow. Like a bassist in a rock band.”

Kat nearly smiled at the description, but it wasn’t right, not when discussing murder. “Okay, so about seven hours ago. A lot might have happened since then.”

She paused, thinking. Did she really want to get involved in this? For so long, she’d let McCready run his business with no interference from her. She’d known he did horrible, violent, unforgiveable things, but she’d blocked them out, chosen not to think about them as a form of self-preservation.

If she got involved now, she risked everything, even more so than befriending Wyatt and Ruthie had. She had no doubt if McCready found her snooping into his business—particularly this part of it—she would be dead on the spot. He wouldn’t be stupid enough to leave a witness. So there would be two bodies. Three if they counted Ruthie.

But on the other hand, without risk there wouldn’t be reward. This information could be the end of McCready. Proof he was involved in a murder? It would be tough to come back from that.

Kat was at a crossroads. Continue along her safe path, avoiding conflict, and waiting for McCready to set her free when he decided she’d paid off her sister’s debt? Or, take action, risk everything, and do her best to tear McCready and his empire down?

There was no choice, not really. Perhaps she’d decided even before this moment, like last night when she’d realised she was in deep with Wyatt.

He was another reason she was making this choice. She wanted to help him in his mission. She wanted him to find out what happened to his brother, to punish the guy who had most likely killed Dean.

Kat turned to Ruthie and straightened her shoulders. “Let’s go find that body.”

They snuck back into the house. Luckily, it was still early enough that no one was awake. Kat was conscious of the cameras as they moved through the hallways to the garage. Her neck wasn’t prickling with the sense of being watched, but how would she really know if McCready was sitting at the computer, watching them from half a house away?

Kat suddenly longed for Wyatt. For his strength and honour. But she didn’t know whether he’d help her, not after he’d pulled away from her. She swallowed, desperately hoping things between them weren’t ruined forever, that Wyatt was still the man she’d thought he was.

They finally reached the garage with no interference. Kat breathed a sigh of relief as she opened the door and they stepped into the large space. A roller door dominated the wall to their right, and the cars were lined up on their left, facing out. The space looked like a warehouse, with high ceilings and corrugated iron on the walls and the roof. But it was also insulated, temperature-controlled, and had even more security than the house. McCready really loved his cars.

Five cars were lined up next to each other. She didn’t recognise the models by sight, but knew at least one of them was a Lamborghini, and another was a Ferrari. The walls were covered with shelves, storing all kinds of car maintenance equipment.

What Kat couldn’t see, though, was a body.

“Where did you see it?” Kat asked Ruthie, who was frowning at a spot a few feet away.

“Right here,” she said, pointing to a bare patch of the floor.

Kat crouched to examine the floor where she was pointing. Unlike most garages, the floor wasn’t concrete. McCready had got the whole space tiled a few years ago because he was sick of grease and oil stains that couldn’t be removed. He thought they were too dirty to stain the floors beneath his beautiful, expensive cars.

The white tiles gleamed brightly. Almost as if they’d recently been cleaned. She peered closer, getting her face right near the floor.

“Blood,” she said.

“What?” Ruthie asked. “I don’t see it.”

Kat waved her over. She pointed to the grout between the tiles. “See? It’s got a light stain. As if they couldn’t quite get it out.”

“How can you tell it’s blood, though?”

Kat shrugged. “I was almost a nurse before I came here. I know my blood.”

Ruthie stared at her, eyes wide as if she was incredibly impressed. Kat shifted uncomfortably, worried the girl was developing a serious case of hero worship. Kat didn’t deserve that. Not after the things she’d done, and said.

She cleared her throat and stood. “So the body was here,” she said, changing the subject. “Where would they have put it?”

Ruthie stayed silent as Kat examined the garage. She was half afraid they’d already disposed of the body. Since she had no idea where McCready’s dumping ground was, that would be of absolutely no use to her. But she couldn’t give up hope yet. It was still early in the morning, and there was about a 50/50 shot they hadn’t done anything yet.

She tapped her finger against her lips, thinking. If McCready had a regular burial ground, it wouldn’t be here on the property. He wouldn’t want anything that could be tied back to him. So, that meant he’d have to transport the bodies. Most likely…in a car.

She turned and grabbed the keys for each of the five cars off their hooks near the door.

One-by-one she popped the trunks. They opened with discreet beeps and rose up like dancers lifting their arms in sync.

She and Ruthie stepped forward to look in the first trunk, that of a sporty orange race car-looking vehicle. Empty. Next was a green convertible. Nothing.

The next two trunks were also empty, and Kat was beginning to think they were out of luck, and McCready had already disposed of the body. Disappointment filled her. Now she’d decided to bring McCready down, excitement at the prospect was racing through her, urging her to fight back. But if the body wasn’t here, there would be nowhere for her to direct that energy.

They approached the final car—a black SUV—slowly. Almost as if the importance of this moment weighed on them both. They rounded the back of the car, and stopped in their tracks.

A long, misshapen object, hastily wrapped in a black tarp, lay in the trunk. Dread pooled in Kat’s stomach. It looked too much like a body to be anything else.

She stepped forward, whole body shaking. Ruthie gripped the back of her tank top, not to stop Kat moving forward, but for support.

Kat reached a trembling hand out, and grasped the edge of the tarp that she assumed hid the head. She peeled it back, inch-by-inch, until the dead, staring eyes of a young man stared back at her. She stumbled back, swallowing bile.

Ruthie made a distressed sound, and Kat reached an automatic hand back to comfort her.

“That’s him,” Ruthie whispered.

“Right,” replied Kat, voice coming as if from a long distance away.

“What do we do now?”

Kat hadn’t thought that far ahead. Did they call the cops? They couldn’t, not while still under McCready’s power. And they certainly couldn’t confront him with the existence of a murder victim to his face.

No, there was only one thing Kat could think to do: tell Wyatt.

She’d just have to hope he’d help her.

 

 

Wyatt woke to an empty bed and felt instantly bereft. What had he expected? That Kat would stay and cuddle him? He scoffed at himself. After what she’d been through at McCready’s hands he shouldn’t be selfish enough to expect any normal relationship with her. Ever.

Even if they escaped this place, they, and their relationship, would be too tainted by what they’d experienced here.

Wouldn’t it?

Wyatt shook his head and rolled out of bed. Why was he even thinking about this stuff? He barely knew Kat.

But, he admitted to himself, they shared a connection. One that had started with a shared dislike of their circumstances and the trap they’d found themselves in, but had grown beyond that. He admired her, more than any other woman he’d met. Kat was so brave, to keep surviving in this world. To do the things she was forced to do and still stay strong. She didn’t break, just forged forward. He wouldn’t have blamed her if she’d fallen apart, but she hadn’t.

Last night she’d been willing to do what it took to get through, but had been totally game when he’d suggested a different way. And she’d found humour in a bad situation.

But he shouldn’t be thinking about that, about her. There’s no way they could make it work. Her leaving early this morning told him that—she hadn’t stayed to talk to him, she’d disappeared, getting as far away from him as she could.

His heart ached at the thought.

Wyatt collected his clothes from the bathroom and slowly dressed. He was torn between wanting to see Kat again, and being worried what her reaction might be.

But when he finally left the room, it wasn’t Kat he saw. It was McCready.

He was in the room the party had been in last night, lounging back on one of the couches with his arms along the back, his left ankle sitting on his right knee. The room was mysteriously cleared of the evidence from the night before. It was once again back to the pristine white it must have been when it was first built. Wyatt didn’t know what the man paid his cleaning crew, but it definitely wasn’t enough.

Unable to escape, Wyatt braced himself, plastered a smile on his face, and strode forward.

“Hey man,” he said, shaking McCready’s hand.

McCready gave him a once-over. “Have fun last night?” he asked.

Wyatt nodded. “I had a good time.” The words stuck in his throat, but he managed to force them out.

McCready seemed satisfied by his response. “Well, welcome to the team. I’ll be glad to have you around.”

“Yeah, me too.” Wyatt blew out a breath in relief. Clearly he—and Kat—had passed the test McCready had given them. They’d proven their loyalty, at least for now. Wyatt had crossed some kind of threshold. He’d stepped past a barrier, and if he turned to look back he’d find the entrance had disappeared.

There was no going back now.

Yesterday, if he’d walked away, Wyatt was pretty certain McCready would’ve let him go. But now that McCready had publicly welcomed him into the inner circle, even on a trial basis, Wyatt was certain he wouldn’t be so forgiving.

He couldn’t escape. He had to forge forward or perish. And if his deception and disloyalty were discovered, Wyatt was certain McCready wouldn’t hesitate to kill him.

This is what he’d wanted, but now he was here, he had to ask himself if it was worth it. To put himself in this do-or-die scenario, literally, and put his life on the line to find out what happened to his brother and maybe, hopefully, destroy McCready.

But he had no choice, not really. He couldn’t regret the choices he’d made. They were done, and he had to live with them.

“So, what happens next?” he asked.

McCready considered him for a moment. “Well, you now have access to everything I have. My cars, my house, my women. Take any you want, as long as you bring them back in one piece.” He smiled an unpleasant smile and a chill ran down Wyatt’s spine. He was careful not to let his disgust show.

“All you have to do in return,” McCready continued, “is whatever I ask of you. When I ask it.”

Wyatt swallowed and nodded. He was pretty sure he wouldn’t like whatever McCready was planning to request of him. If it was anything like what Spider and Weston did, he wasn’t entirely sure he could go through with it.

But he’d have to. He didn’t have a choice now. And that made him sick to his stomach.

Rather than voicing these concerns, Wyatt smiled. “Sounds like a sweet deal.”

“It is.” McCready stood abruptly. “Now, I have some things to take care of. But Weston is around and he can show you the ropes.”

“Okay,” Wyatt said, wondering how he could get out of that.

McCready’s eyes narrowed. “It was meant to be Spider, but, well. Seems he got a bit out of control last night.”

McCready didn’t look pleased. Wyatt was about to ask what Spider had done when he snapped his mouth shut. He didn’t want to know. And from the look on McCready’s face, he wouldn’t like to know what Spider’s punishment was, either. For all he knew, McCready had already killed the man.

“I’ll go find Weston,” he said instead.

McCready nodded and strode away. Wyatt wandered into the kitchen, wondering if he could find some coffee before he found Weston. Unfortunately, Weston clearly had the same idea, because he was at the kitchen bench—marble, and white like the rest of the house—cradling a coffee cup. He looked pretty worse for wear, with bleary eyes and sallow skin, like he was ill. Wyatt figured it was more likely to be a raging hangover, so stayed quiet as he poured himself a cup of coffee and took his first sip.

“So, I’m meant to show you around today,” Weston said from behind him. Wyatt started, then turned slowly.

“That’s right,” he said cautiously.

Weston groaned. “Let’s stay here for a bit first, yeah?”

Wyatt grinned. No doubt the big man wasn’t too steady on his feet this morning. Wyatt sipped his coffee in silence, glancing around the white room. What was it with this house and white? So far every room he’d been in except the study had been almost universally white.

He dismissed the question as unimportant and focused on Weston. He might not want to spend time with the guy, since he and Spider were both bullies, but it would be a good opportunity to pump him for information while he was vulnerable.

Wyatt cleared his throat. “So, Weston. McCready said I basically had to do what he asked when he asked it. So what kind of things does that entail?”

Weston’s head snapped up. “Oh, anything.”

“Like?” Wyatt pressed.

Weston considers him for a moment. “You’ll find out when you do your final test.”

Wyatt sighed in annoyance. “I’m in the team now, aren’t I? Can’t I get a clue?”

“Look, here’s the thing, pretty boy. I’m not sure you’re ready for this. McCready thinks you might be, but I don’t buy it.” The coffee was clearly working its magic on Weston, because he was suddenly more alert.

Wyatt straightened, trying to wake his brain up enough to get where Weston was coming from.

“Why do you say that?”

Weston narrowed his eyes. “Lots of reasons. Starting with what happened to Spider last night.”

Wyatt blinked. “Spider?”

“Yeah,” Weston spat.

“I have no idea what you mean. McCready told me he got out of control, that’s all I know.”

Weston narrowed his eyes. “Spider wouldn’t do that. Maybe in the early days, but he’s better now. He’s an athlete. And since you’re the new guy, you’re the only one who would’ve done it. I just don’t know why.”

Wyatt shook his head. “I genuinely have no idea what you’re talking about.” For once, he didn’t have to lie.

Weston cocked his head. “You must be a good liar.”

“Or I have no idea what’s going on. What happened to Spider?”

“He was drugged,” Weston said, slumping back into the barstool he’d been sitting on. “Heroin. Sound familiar?”

“Huh,” said Wyatt. He thought about that for a moment, putting the pieces together. An image flashed through his mind of Kat leaving the party, a syringe in her hand. He kept his gaze steady on Weston even as shock raced through him.

Kat? Could she have drugged Spider? He wouldn’t put it past her, but why? She’d been so clear she wouldn’t do anything to jeopardise her chances of leaving here, of angering McCready. So why would she risk all that to drug Spider?

He didn’t know, and it was a contradiction he intended to solve.

“Could Spider have done it to himself?” Wyatt asked, determined to protect Kat, no matter her reasoning.

Weston sighed. “Yeah, I guess. He says he doesn’t remember.”

“I guess maybe we should keep an eye out for him, then. Make sure he’s careful and stuff.” Wyatt had no intention of doing any such thing, but maybe it would make Weston believe in his innocence.

It must have worked, because Weston made a sound of frustration. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. I thought he was clean.” His eyes grew sad. For all his many faults, Weston really did care for his friend. It didn’t make up for all the horrible things he’d done, but it humanised him in Wyatt’s eyes. It also made him more dangerous. If Wyatt started seeing the good qualities in all these bad people around him, it would make his job so much harder. He couldn’t start identifying with them.

“Spider was a junkie,” Weston explained. “When McCready found him.”

Wyatt nodded. “McCready saved him?” he asked. Weston clearly needed a reason to trust him, to believe Wyatt was one of them. So Wyatt would have to convince Weston he belonged here.

“Yeah, for sure. Got him clean, and fit. Kept him out of prison. He’s a good man, McCready.”

Wyatt didn’t agree, so said nothing. “And you?” he asked Weston instead. “What’s your story?”

Weston shrugged. “McCready saved me from prison, too.” He didn’t elaborate, and his closed-off body language told Wyatt it was better not to pry.

“No wonder you’re loyal to him,” Wyatt said.

Weston nodded. “Yeah.” He fell silent for a long while, and Wyatt sipped his coffee until the mug was empty.

“You asked what McCready might make you do?” Weston asked.

Wyatt stilled, tense with anticipation. “Yeah?”

“Based on my experience, you’ve got one final test to pass.”

“And what’s that?” Wyatt asked carefully.

Weston looked him dead in the eye. “You have to kill one of his enemies.”

Wyatt was silent for a long minute. Holy shit. To get into the inner circle—to gain their trust fully—he had to kill someone? He should have expected that would be the final test. He’d been hoping murder was something McCready only asked his inner circle to do, but this made more sense. McCready ran his operation like a cult. Once you were in, you couldn’t get out. And what better way to bind someone to your side, to force them to be loyal, than to make them commit a horrific crime. And, since this was McCready, he no doubt kept proof that person had done it, to blackmail them into doing his bidding if they needed the reminder of who was in power.

“So you’ve killed someone?” Wyatt asked, trying to keep his voice steady.

Weston shrugged. “A couple.”

Wyatt nodded, not sure what else to say. If this is what it would take to gain everyone’s trust—to get the information he sought on his brother, could he do it? Wyatt didn’t think so. But he also knew there was no going back. He could only go forward.

What the fuck was he going to do? His plan of gaining McCready’s complete trust and then straight up asking about his brother was already falling apart. He’d have to find out the information he needed to know as quickly as possible, before McCready asked the unspeakable of him. The only problem was he didn’t know how much time he had. McCready could test him anywhere, any time. Spring it on him when he would least expect it. He could even do it in the next hour if he wanted to.

Wyatt would have to do whatever it took to destroy McCready, as soon as possible. He might even have to sacrifice the information on his brother he so desperately needed. Because if McCready went down, Wyatt couldn’t imagine him being willing to divulge information about what happened to Dean.

All these thoughts swirled in Wyatt’s head, fogging up his mind until he could barely think. Outwardly, though, he just nodded. “Okay then.”

Weston stood and poured them both more coffee, then walked to the door. “Shall we do this, then?” Weston asked.

And what else could Wyatt say but, “Absolutely.”

 

 

It took forever for Weston to leave. Kat and Ruthie kept alternating between checking the car with the body in it, and checking on Wyatt.

The car was still there. Whoever was tasked with the body disposal was taking their time. Spider was apparently still feeling the effects of his unexpected dosing last night, and Weston was busy with Wyatt. So unless McCready was willing to do the work himself, which Kat doubted, they were probably waiting.

But Spider could wake up any minute. And if Weston finished up with Wyatt and left with the body before Kat could explain the situation to Wyatt, then they’d be out of luck.

Finally, Weston had run out of things to brag about to Wyatt. He clearly liked to feel important. Since Spider usually got the job of showing people around, it didn’t surprise Kat that Weston was milking the opportunity to play the big man for all it was worth.

But eventually there was nothing else Weston could say, and he waved goodbye to Wyatt and headed off up the stairs.

Kat didn’t waste any time, grabbing Wyatt and dragging him outside to where Ruthie was waiting for them.

“What’s going on?” Wyatt asked as she towed him further into the garden.

“Trust me.” She knew she was asking a lot, but Wyatt didn’t balk, just kept following along behind her. His hand was warm and steady in hers.

When she finally felt they were far enough away from the house and the microphones contained inside, Kat swung around.

“OK, here’s the deal. Ruthie and I found something that might help you.”

Wyatt’s eyebrows shot up. “You found out something about Dean?”

Guilt swamped her at the excitement in his eyes. She should have been clearer. “No, sorry. But it’s something you might be able to use against McCready.”

Wyatt’s face changed. Not to disappointment, as she might have expected, but more like the hard look of a predator detecting wounded prey.

“That’s good. What is it?”

Kat turned to Ruthie, who was still hanging back behind her. “Ruthie, can you tell him what you told me?”

Ruthie eyed Wyatt, then shook her head, wrapping her arms around herself. Kat frowned at the younger woman’s display of fear. She turned fully away from Wyatt and gripped Ruthie’s upper arms.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

Ruthie’s gaze darted to Wyatt, and then back to Kat. She leaned forward, dropping her voice to a whisper. “Are you sure we can trust him?”

Kat sighed. “Yes, I think we can.”

“Even after what he did to you?”

In her peripheral vision, Kat could see Wyatt straighten at the words, but she didn’t have time to deal with that now. Weston could, at this very minute, be driving the body away to a place they’d never find. She needed to clue Wyatt in before then, or it would all be for nothing.

“He didn’t do anything to me, Ruthie. I promise. In fact, he was careful not to. It was all for show, for McCready’s benefit. We can trust him.”

Ruthie slanted a gaze to Wyatt, more assessing than scared this time.

“At the least, he’s better than McCready, right?” Kat asked a little desperately.

“I suppose so. Promise he won’t rat us out?”

“I promise. I can tell him what you told me, if you want, but I think it’s better coming from you.”

Ruthie thought about this, then nodded. She turned to Wyatt with determination in her eyes. “I found the body of a murdered man in the garage last night.”

Wyatt’s eyes lit. “Who was he?”

“I don’t know. Thin, long hair—”

“Piercing in one eyebrow?” Wyatt interrupted.

“Yes. How did you know?”

“He was at the party last night. Weston dragged him in and McCready had words with him. Damn it, I didn’t realise he’d been killed.”

His jaw clenched, guilt and regret in his eyes.

“You can’t have known,” she reassured him.

“Maybe not, but I should have been more curious. I could have saved him.”

“Don’t blame yourself,” Kat said, gripping his hand.

“It’s too late now, anyway, I suppose,” he said, then visibly shook himself. He squeezed her fingers. “Where’s the body now?”

“In the trunk of the black SUV, under a tarp. At least, it was a few minutes ago.”

“So, they’re planning to take it somewhere to dispose of?” Wyatt asked.

Kat nodded. “That would be my guess. But we don’t know who’s meant to do it, or when.”

“Okay. Whoever it is, I’ll follow them to the dump site. If it’s their usual place, we could find all of McCready’s victims. It’ll be the end of him, for sure.”

“Exactly. We should get to the garage now, before they leave. McCready won’t ask if you take one of his cars.” Without waiting for an answer, she strode off in the direction of the house.

Wyatt jogged to catch up to her. “I’ll take my car,” Wyatt said, brooking no argument. “I don’t want anything of that man’s.”

Kat smiled at those words, but the fear from before hit her again. Did he mean her, too? Was she too tainted by what she’d been through in the mansion for him to want her? Is that why he hadn’t slept with her last night? Not because he was being noble, but because she was soiled goods?

Her heart cracked at the thought. Maybe she’d never be free of her time here. Maybe it would poison all the rest of her life.

What good man would want her after finding out she essentially prostituted herself for five years, doing the bidding of an evil man?

She swallowed bile and tears sprang to her eyes.

Later, she’d no doubt cry for the first time in years, overwhelmed by all these thoughts and doubts and emotions. But now was not the time. First, she had to destroy McCready for what he’d done to her and all the other women like her. Then, and only then, could she wallow in her grief.

They made it to the garage, Ruthie hurrying along behind them. Her eyes immediately searched for the black SUV.

“Thank God, it’s still there,” she said.

“Okay. I’m going to grab my car.”

Wyatt strode off, and Kat had to jog to catch up to him. “Wait. I’m coming, too.”

Wyatt stopped in the middle of the corridor and turned to her. “No, you’re not.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Yes, I am.”

“It’s too dangerous.”

“Then you shouldn’t go alone.”

He was about to say something more, but he faltered, staring at her.

“What?” she asked, suddenly self-conscious.

“Nothing,” he said softly. But he looked different now, and Kat couldn’t quite place why.

His gaze roved her face for a heartbeat longer, and then he turned away, looking at her over his shoulder. “Please stay here. Call me when the SUV leaves the garage, and tell me which direction it goes in. If McCready gets suspicious, call me. If you get in trouble, call me. Okay?”

Kat hesitated for a long moment, then nodded. Wyatt pulled Kat’s phone from her pocket and entered his number, then handed it back to her. He hesitated for a brief moment. Then, he leaned close and gently pressed his lips to her forehead.

Before Kat could react, he was gone.

 

 

The second Wyatt’s phone beeped with the signal, he put his foot on the gas and rocketed around the side of the house. The black SUV farther down the street turned out of sight, so Wyatt sped up even more to catch it. This was his chance to catch McCready and his goons in the act, and Wyatt wouldn’t let it slip through his fingers.

He finally caught up once the car left the suburbs and hit a main, straight road. Wyatt hung back in traffic, trying not to draw attention to himself. He was glad he’d chosen his nondescript sedan to tail the car, rather than one of McCready’s flashy sports cars.

The driver—he didn’t know whether it was Spider, Weston, or someone else entirely—didn’t seem to notice him following them as he cruised the streets. They didn’t pull any evasive movements to lose him, anyway.

Finally, after about twenty minutes, the car turned left into a gated parking lot. Wyatt kept driving past so as not to draw attention to himself and tried to get a glimpse of the sign on the gate. A large truck passed when he was at the right angle, inserting itself between Wyatt and the sign.

Frustrated, Wyatt turned off at the next side street and pulled over. He got out his phone and opened the maps. It took him a second of searching to find what he was looking for, not sure whether this was really the place McCready was disposing of bodies.

But there it was: a graveyard.

It made so much sense. A graveyard would be the perfect place to hide murder victims. There were bodies everywhere, often close together to save space. All McCready would have to do is pay off one employee, and he’d have constant access to a perfect body dump.

Even cadaver dogs would be useless for searches, because of course there were dead people everywhere. And with society’s aversion to digging up remains, disrespecting the dead, it was likely no one would ever find the victims stashed here.

Wyatt got out of the car and hurried into the graveyard through a side entrance. He needed to catch this guy in the act. The sun was setting by now, casting a golden glow over everything. It was almost beautiful, but Wyatt was too distracted by the morbidity of being surrounded by death. There was something about graveyards that gave him the creeps.

He couldn’t see anyone immediately. He walked to the parking lot he’d seen the car turn into, but it wasn’t there. Wyatt panicked for a moment, afraid he’d made a mistake. Maybe they’d been picking something up and had already left. But he couldn’t be wrong, the graveyard was too perfect for what they needed to do.

He noticed a small lane leading off the parking lot and followed it at a jog. He was conscious of the time ticking down. If he missed the handover of the body, he’d have no evidence. It would disappear into dust and he’d be stuck with McCready.

And so would Kat.

The overwhelming need to protect her welled up inside him. He liked her, a hell of a lot, and more than anything he wanted her to escape the horrible hold McCready had over her. The thought that she’d been forced to do far worse than what he’d done with her last night caused a sick churn in his stomach.

Ruthie’s words ‘after what he did to you’, haunted him. What had Kat told her about their time together? Afterwards Kat had defended him, yes. But she must have expressed some disgust for Ruthie to say those words.

Wyatt hated himself for it. For the position they’d been forced into, possibly ruining any chance he and Kat had had at a future.

He didn’t know when his mission had changed from needing to find out what happened to his brother, to needing to save Kat. But he couldn’t deny Dean was almost forgotten now as he followed the path winding through the graves into the setting sun.

Finally, he came across a second, smaller parking lot, next to a squat building and spotted the black SUV. Wyatt left the path as soon as it came into view, ducking between the graves and the trees that shaded them. He crept as close as he dared, eyes alert for any sign of Spider or Weston. When no one was immediately visible, Wyatt assumed they must be inside the building.

He took a few steps out from behind the oak tree he’d used as cover, intending to check the body was still in the trunk of the car.

The door to the building swung open and Wyatt dove back behind the tree and pressed his back against the bark, his heart hammering. He willed it to calm, taking measured breaths to slow his heart rate. After a few seconds, feeling more in control, he carefully peeked around the trunk of the tree.

Spider and Weston were standing by the open trunk of the car. A painfully thin man with greying hair stood next to them, peering at the body still wrapped in a tarp.

Wyatt got out his phone and began snapping pictures.

“Bring him inside. I’m digging a new grave tonight, so he’ll disappear quick.” The old man’s voice floated on the breeze.

The light was fading now, and Wyatt’s phone camera was struggling to take clear pictures. He needed to get closer, but dare he risk it?

Spider and Wyatt stripped the body of the tarp and hefted it up, Spider at the feet, Weston at the head.

“Hey, cover that thing, would you?” the gravedigger said urgently, hurrying to stand in front of the body and looking around nervously, as if he could hide the dead man from any prying eyes.

“We need to reuse the tarps,” Spider growled. “If we buy any more, the hardware stores will start to think we’re serial killers.”

Wyatt snorted. The hardware store employees wouldn’t be too far off in that assessment.

The gravedigger threw up his hands in defeat and hurried inside, Spider and Weston trailing after him as they manoeuvred their awkward load.

Wyatt kept his camera snapping, but he had no idea how good the pictures were. Right before they got to the door, the floodlight attached to the building’s roof switched on, clearly scheduled to turn on at a certain time. It illuminated the whole area, and Wyatt got a crystal clear picture of Weston’s face, the dead body he was carrying, and Spider, half-turned towards the camera. It was the exact proof he needed.

Elation swept through him. This was it. This is what he’d wanted. It was unfortunate Wyatt hadn’t yet found out about Dean, but he had a pretty damn good consolation prize. He got to bring McCready down like the piece of shit he was.

Wyatt stayed behind his tree until Spider and Weston had left the building, gotten in their car, and driven away. The gravedigger watched them go, then shuffled back inside the building with a shake of his head.

As soon as the coast was clear, Wyatt sent the incriminating photo and his location to Darrell.

The second the photos were sent, he called his old partner.

“Detective Albany,” Darrell answered.

“What did I say about caller ID?” Wyatt asked with a grin. He was on a high from his successful mission, and his grin stretched from ear to ear.

“You said I should ignore your calls,” Darrell replied with a chuckle.

“Whatever, man. Did you get the photo?”

Darrell sighed. “I was attempting to look at it when you called. Give a guy a few seconds. I’m not as quick as I used to be.”

“You’re not old yet,” Wyatt said with a scoff. “Can I tell you what the photo is?”

“Sure, saves my eyes from squinting.”

Wyatt laughed. Darrell was a few years past forty, and hardly nearing retirement age. “It’s photographic proof of McCready’s right-hand men disposing of a guy they killed.”

Darrell was silent for a long moment. “Shiiiiiit,” he said eventually, drawing out the word.

“And if you get here quick, you could pick up the body before it goes into the ground. The gravedigger said he planned to bury it tonight.”

“I’ll work on getting a warrant right away.”

“You might want to expand that warrant to the whole gravesite,” Wyatt said.

“Why’s that?” Darrell asked, sounding alert.

“Because I think they’ve been doing this for a long time. If you want proof of McCready’s illegal activities, I bet you’ll find it right here in these graves.”

“Jesus,” Darrell murmured. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“I’ll wait until you arrive,” Wyatt replied.

Darrell agreed and hung up so he could get to work. Wyatt hesitated for a long moment, then called Kat.

“What’s happening?” she asked the second she picked up the call.

“I think I found the dump site. I’m waiting for the cops to get here.”

“So it’s safe to come out?”

Wyatt hesitated. “What?”

He turned in time to see movement in the dim light. It took a second for his eyes to adjust, only to see Kat stepping out from behind one of the other trees in the graveyard about ten feet away. Wyatt started towards her, and they met halfway next to an elaborate gravestone with a carved angel on top.

“What are you doing here?” Wyatt demanded. “I thought I told you to stay at McCready’s.”

She shrugged. “I followed you here. I want to be a part of destroying McCready. I deserve that much.”

Wyatt took a breath to berate her some more, but the fresh air in his lungs brought clarity. She was right, she did deserve to have a hand in bringing down the man who had essentially kept her prisoner for five years. As much as he wanted to protect her, he had to acknowledge that much.

Besides, she should be safe here, since Spider and Weston had left. He doubted the gravedigger could put up much of a fight. Only, they had to make sure they weren’t gone too long, or McCready would get suspicious.

“Okay,” he said simply.

She blinked. “Just like that?”

He shrugged. “I guess so.” Besides, he liked being with her. Liked her company, and liked that she didn’t seem loath to spend time with him.

She narrowed her eyes as if expecting a trick, but after a moment she grinned. “Thank you.”

Wyatt nodded, and an answering smile crept onto his face. He liked making her happy.

He glanced back at the building the gravedigger had walked into. He could come out at any second and spot them on the grass. Wyatt grabbed Kat’s arm and towed her back behind the tree for cover.

The movement brought them close, since the tree wasn’t that wide. To block them both from view, they had to stand in each other’s personal spaces. Wyatt didn’t move back, and neither did Kat.

He held himself still, waiting to see what she’d do. They hadn’t had a chance to talk about last night yet, and he desperately wanted to apologise, but couldn’t find the words. If she wanted to make the first move, to tell him everything was all okay between them, it would make it so much simpler for him.

For a second—a brief, shining instant—Wyatt thought she would. Their gazes locked and a moment of connection drew between them, settling deep into his soul. He drew in a breath in anticipation, bracing himself.

He kept his face neutral—his cop face—so he wouldn’t put any pressure on her to answer the way he wanted. She’d had enough of that from McCready and the other men. As tempted as he was to snatch her into his arms and kiss her, it wouldn’t be right, and he needed to remember to keep himself under control.

But instead of throwing herself into his arms as Wyatt had naively hoped, Kat cleared her throat, shuttered her gaze, and stepped back as far as she could go without exposing herself to the gravedigger’s view.

Wyatt swallowed his disappointment. Her shift away from him answered his unspoken question, only it wasn’t the one he’d wanted to hear.

He didn’t blame her, of course. It was no wonder she wouldn’t want anything to do with him, or maybe even men in general. But it hurt just the same; a sad ache in his chest he hadn’t felt in a long time. It was the ache of missed opportunities, and a wish that things could be different. That they could be different people, meeting under different circumstances.

But even if they had, there would be no guarantee Wyatt would feel the same way about her. The thing he admired most was the way she dealt with the shitty hand life had given her, and had stayed strong through the whole ordeal.

He was surprised at the depth of his sadness. He barely knew this woman, though he felt like he did. Their partnership against McCready had brought them closer, but even that wasn’t enough to explain his regret at their circumstances.

He liked Kat, a lot. Could even see himself falling in love with her. He couldn’t help but admire her strength and resilience. Her determination. The way she protected Ruthie, a girl she barely knew.

And, of course, she was stunningly beautiful.

Especially now. She wore no makeup, and only jeans and a hoodie zipped up over her tank top. But this natural look appealed to him far more than the skimpy gold bikini. Probably because it was more her.

He wanted to take her into his arms. Kiss her, devour her, claim her. Feast on every inch of her and delight in her cries of pleasure—real ones this time.

He shook his head. He shouldn’t be thinking such things, not now.

Not ever.

 

 

 

Kat couldn’t quite meet Wyatt’s gaze, staring at nothing over his right shoulder. That closed look on his face had hurt her deeply. The way his gaze had shuttered as soon as a moment of connection between them began.

She’d known she was in trouble when it came to Wyatt, that her heart had almost been primed to fall for him. He was handsome, honest, heroic, and she’d been alone for so long surrounded by awful, corrupt people. He’d been like a beacon in the darkness.

But Kat knew now he didn’t feel the same about her. And no wonder. She was so tainted by what had happened to her over the last five years, what she’d done. No decent man could want her.

No doubt he’d always be thinking about what she’d done. Men tended to like innocent women, or so she’d been led to believe. Certainly, many of the men McCready had given her to had liked her to play a virginal kind of role. It was ridiculous and embarrassing, but something about it appealed to their primal instincts.

And no doubt Wyatt was the same.

“So, who were you on the phone to?” she asked desperately, grasping on to the first thought she could to change the topic of conversation.

“My former partner.”

“Like, a girlfriend?” Kat asked, confused by the wording. Her chest tightened as she waited for his answer.

Wyatt scoffed a laugh. “No. My cop partner. His name’s Darrell Albany.”

Kat’s eyes widened. “You were a cop? You didn’t tell me that!”

Wyatt shrugged. “Like I said, I didn’t want you to have to lie to McCready about it. But now we’re so close to bringing him down...”

“Oh my God. Were you really on an undercover assignment the whole time? Do you even have a brother? What were you? Vice?” The questions tumbled from her mouth before she could stop them.

The light was completely gone now, and Kat moved closer to see his expression better. Her breath hitched at the heat radiating from him, at the soft exhales from his lungs. Despite everything, she still wanted him.

Wyatt’s eyes looked like mysterious dark pools in the gloom, but his white teeth were visible when he grinned.

“I was homicide,” he said eventually. “But I quit after my brother disappeared. Everything else I told you about why I’m here is true.”

Kat took a deep breath and nodded. “I never knew. You didn’t fight like a cop, so I figured…” She trailed off with a shrug.

“My brother and I learned martial arts together since we were kids. We got quite good, competed in tournaments and stuff. That’s why we both knew how to fight when we found ourselves in McCready’s ring.”

Kat nodded slowly. It all made sense now. She’d never questioned how both brothers had known how to fight.

They fell silent for a long moment, the sounds of the night animals coming out of their burrows filtering to them. Kat glanced around at the graves and shivered.

“Cold?” Wyatt asked.

Kat shook her head. “Not really. It’s just a bit creepy being here after dark.”

Wyatt nodded, following her gaze to the gravestones reflecting the moonlight. “I felt it, too. It’s worse knowing McCready dumped people here.”

“Yes,” she agreed. They fell silent again. Awkwardness brewed between them, heightened in the intimate darkness. Kat wasn’t sure what to say that wasn’t “Can you forgive me for who I was forced to become?”

Tears sprang to her eyes and she blinked them away. She was so aware of him standing beside her, warm and alive. She wanted to slip into his arms.

She wanted to be held.

She sighed. “How long does it take to get a warrant?”

“That depends,” Wyatt answered her. “Could be an hour, could be days. Depends on what the judges think of the photos I took, whether they are solid enough evidence.”

“Days?” she hissed. “The body will be buried by then.”

“That’s what I’m worried about. I figure if I stick around, I can follow the gravedigger and see where he puts it. Let me tell you, I’ve never missed my badge more than I do now.”

“I can imagine. You must have wanted to arrest McCready so many times.”

Wyatt let out a self-deprecating laugh. “Yep. I couldn’t even try, though. A good lawyer would get him free.”

“Did you always want to be a cop?” she asked, curious about this man. In some ways, she knew him so well. Knew the heart and soul of who he was, what he stood for. The big and important things about him. But in another sense she didn’t know anything at all, all the small details that made up his life were a mystery to her.

“Yeah, pretty much. It was cop or army for me.”

“You wanted to protect people,” she mused.

He slanted her a look. “I never thought of it that way, but I guess so.”

She smiled. He really was a good man.

Her smile faltered as their eyes caught. Her breath quickened. His expression was different this time. Not closed off, guarded. Emotions were written across his face, and Kat swore she saw admiration there. Affection, even.

Kat didn’t know what to make of it, but hope leapt within her. Maybe she’d been too hasty. Maybe—

A sound rattled from behind the tree, interrupting the moment. Kat’s eyes went wide with fear. Wyatt pressed his finger to his lips and then slowly craned his head around the tree. Kat did the same on the other side.

The old man from before was pushing a wheelbarrow over the gravel, causing the rattle. Kat peered closer at the contents of the barrow. Was that a dead body?

She gasped, then clapped her hand over her mouth. Thankfully, the gravedigger didn’t seem to have heard her, as he pushed the barrow off into the darkness, with the flashlight in his hand bobbing with each step.

A firm hand pressed against her back and Kat glanced up. Wyatt tilted his head, indicating they should follow, a slight question in his gaze.

Kat nodded enthusiastically.

They crept out from behind the tree and carefully followed the flashlight’s beam as it moved farther away from them. Eventually, it stopped, and Kat froze as her eyes adjusted. The old man stood at the foot of an open grave. As they watched, he hefted up the wheelbarrow and toppled the body into the grave. It landed with a thump.

Kat made a sound at the sight of the young man tossed away like so much garbage. The old man stiffened at the sound, and Kat’s eyes widened at her mistake.

Wyatt stepped between her and the gravedigger. “Freeze!” he said in his most authoritarian voice. For the first time, Kat fully believed he’d once been a cop. A good one, she had no doubt.

But the old man didn’t obey Wyatt’s command. Instead, he spun around. The moonlight reflected off something in his hand, but Kat’s brain didn’t register what it was. Not until Wyatt’s body slammed into her a millisecond before a loud report echoed through the air.

Kat landed flat on her back, the wind knocked from her lungs. Wyatt was heavy on top of her. For a brief, awful second, she thought he’d been hit by the bullet. He was so still on top of her.

But a moment later he levered himself up and gave Kat a once-over to check she was unharmed. Apparently satisfied, he leapt to his feet to face the gravedigger, who no longer looked like a harmless old man.

He raised the gun again, but before he could pull the trigger, Wyatt charged. He knocked the man’s gun arm away and tackled him to the ground. Kat sat up, gasping for air but determined to watch the struggle.

It didn’t take long before Wyatt subdued the other man. Age and training were on his side. He collected the gun and trained it on the old man, who lay panting on the ground glaring up at Wyatt.

“Fucking cops,” he spat.

Wyatt didn’t correct him.

A jaunty tune sounded, shattering the quiet of the night. Kat looked around, wondering what was making the sound. It wasn’t until Wyatt pulled his cell phone from his pocket and answered the call that she realised what it was.

He greeted whoever was on the other side of the line, and explained their exact position. A few minutes later, a roar sounded in the distance and the graveyard lit up.

Cars and trucks appeared from the darkness, blinding Kat with their headlights. She shielded her eyes, trying to discern who the newcomers were. Then, she saw the distinctive decals of the city’s police department and it became apparent the cavalry had arrived.

The cars stopped, but the headlights stayed on to illuminate the scene as people—many of them in uniform—exited the cars.

From the leading vehicle stepped a handsome Black man in his early forties with close-cropped greying hair. His suit was rumpled and he clutched a takeaway coffee cup like it was a lifeline. But he took one look at Wyatt and burst out laughing.

“You couldn’t resist, could you? Once a cop, always a cop.”

“Look who decided to finally show up,” Wyatt teased. “Want to take over?”

The man who could only be Darrell rolled his eyes, but was clearly suppressing a smile. He stepped forward and handcuffed the gravedigger, then frisked him and dragged him off to the back seat of a squad car, sucking down coffee the entire time. A man in a CSI windbreaker gingerly took the gun from Wyatt after he clicked the safety on.

Unnerved by all the activity, Kat crept closer to Wyatt. When she got within reaching distance, he slung an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. Her heart flipped at the casual gesture and her body stirred to life from being pressed against his hard chest.

“Are you okay?” he murmured.

She nodded, staring at all the people and vehicles and equipment. “Yeah. This is your world, huh?”

“It used to be.”

“It suits you. But why are there so many people?”

Wyatt smiled at her. “Well, they need to process this crime scene,” he said, indicating the grave where the old man had so unceremoniously dumped the body. “But I think they’ve got a warrant to search the whole place.”

He looked so pleased Kat couldn’t help but smile in return.

“That’s right,” said Darrell in a booming voice from over her shoulder. Kat spun around quickly and tried to pull out of Wyatt’s grip, but he held her more tightly to him. She instantly relaxed into him.

Darrell continued. “I knew Judge Conner had a hate-on for McCready, but I didn’t know how bad it was. As soon as I said I had evidence that could bring him down, the guy couldn’t sign fast enough.”

“Judge Conner?” Kat squeaked.

Darrell swivelled his gaze to her. “Yeah, you know him?”

She pictured the rotund man she’d met a number of times. “Um. Let’s just say you might find some evidence disappearing with regards to him. Though I can see why he’d jump at a chance to get rid of McCready.”

Wyatt squeezed her shoulder. “Well, that explains a lot. Did he ask you to arrest McCready quickly?”

“Yeah, how’d you know?” Darrell asked, looking puzzled.

Wyatt shook his head. “Never mind. Will you?”

Darrell shook his head. “We can’t yet. We need to prove all the evidence here leads back to him. The more, the better. Since he doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who gets his hands dirty, I’m afraid all the evidence will be circumstantial. I don’t want him wriggling out of this, so I’ll make it as airtight as possible.”

Wyatt sighed. “I was afraid of that.”

“Why’s that?” Darrell asked.

Instead of answering, Wyatt turned to Kat. Her heart plummeted at the expression on his face.

“We have to go back, don’t we?”

Wyatt nodded. “Hopefully just for tonight, if Darrell can work quickly enough.”

Darrell huffed, offended. “Hey, now—”

Wyatt ignored his affront. “Think you can handle it?” he asked Kat.

Tears sprang to her eyes. Freedom was so close she could taste it. She’d believed it was over. She didn’t know if she was strong enough to go back, not after that.

“Do we have to?” she asked.

Wyatt exhaled. “No, but I think McCready will hunt us to the ends of the earth if we don’t. He’ll know we’re not on his side. We won’t be safe, not until he’s behind bars.”

Kat swallowed, and tried to piece her courage back together. “Then I guess we’ll have to.”

“I’ll be by your side the whole time,” he assured her.

She nodded.

“Good girl,” Wyatt said with an admiring smile. Kat warmed at the praise.

Darrell’s gaze bounced speculatively between them, but he said nothing. Kat leaned further into Wyatt and enjoyed his comfort while it lasted. She still didn’t know whether what she felt for him was two-sided or not, and now definitely wasn’t the time to discuss it. So, for now, she chose to pretend.

“I better get her back,” Wyatt said to Darrell. “McCready will be wondering where we are.”

“Right. It was good to see you again, man,” Darrell replied.

Wyatt agreed, and turned to go. A few steps later, he stopped and turned back to Darrell. He took a deep, rattling breath, as if to brace himself, and Kat’s heart skipped a beat.

“Darrell, my brother always wore his dog tags. He could’ve been buried with them. If you find them…” he trailed off, his face achingly sad. Kat wrapped her arms around him, giving him comfort as he’d done for her.

Darrell nodded once. “I’ll let you know right away,” he said sincerely.

Kat’s heart broke for Wyatt. She couldn’t imagine losing her sister, especially not to a man like McCready. She hoped, for Wyatt’s sake, that they didn’t find his brother’s body, buried here and forgotten. But maybe it was better to know. She vowed to ask him about it. But, first, she had to survive McCready. She steeled herself as they made their way back to the cars.

She had to enter the lion’s den, one last time.

 

 

They arrived back at McCready’s mansion in separate cars. Wyatt parked his sedan around the back, hoping McCready hasn’t noticed their absence. How strict was he with regards to his team’s schedule? If Spider and Weston stayed out—like they did the night Wyatt took them drinking—was that against the rules?

Wyatt probably should have asked all that before heading out. Now, it was too late. Well, if McCready got mad, Wyatt would have to find a way to appease him.

He walked into the house through the patio doors and headed straight for the door to the garage. Kat was coming his way, glancing around as if she expected McCready to be waiting for her. She smiled when she saw it was Wyatt and his heart skipped a beat.

She really was beautiful, and her rare smiles made her even more so. Particularly when they were just for him.

She opened her mouth to say something, but a door opened behind Wyatt, interrupting her. Wyatt spun around.

McCready stepped from his office, tugging on the bottom of his rich purple suit jacket in a fake-casual way. He smoothed a hand over his slick hair, drawing out the suspense, before finally turning in Wyatt’s direction.

“Where have you been?” he asked, an edge of malice in his tone. Weston stepped out behind him, folding his arms across his chest and glaring menacingly. Had Weston seen them at the cemetery? Did McCready know they’d discovered his body dump site?

And if he did, why weren’t they dead yet?

Wyatt affected a relaxed posture. “Out and about. Why? I didn’t think I was a prisoner here.”

McCready eyed him with disdain. “You’re not, of course. But my crew needs to let me know where they are at all times. What if I’d needed you?”

Wyatt shrugged. “You could have called.”

The situation was deadly serious, but Wyatt hoped that by brushing it off, McCready would give up attempting to intimidate Wyatt and let him off with a warning. Weston looked like he was keen to do some damage, but Wyatt hoped he’d save it for when they were next in the ring.

McCready shifted. “Of course,” he said. “But I would like to know where you were.”

Wyatt sucked in a breath to reply, scrambling to think of a convincing lie or a way to deflect the question. He should have thought about this in more detail on the drive over, but he’d been so focused on getting back as quickly as possible.

Before Wyatt could say anything, Kat wrapped her arms around him from behind, planting her hands possessively against his chest. Her body was plastered against his back.

“Where do you think we were?” she purred, poking her head around his side to meet McCready’s gaze. Wyatt tried to suppress his surprise. She could switch on this sleazy sex-kitten thing so quickly, like she had when they’d pretended to make love last night. It must have been a survival mechanism for her, a way to manipulate men.

McCready narrowed his gaze at the two of them. “Is that so?”

Kat smiled. It didn’t reach her eyes, but it would have been convincing from where McCready stood. “Of course. You said to make him welcome. And, well, he requested my presence.” She made it sound like Wyatt had ordered her into his bed and he was mildly nauseated at the thought.

McCready’s gaze bounced between them, clearly searching for the lie. Wyatt kept his face carefully blank and blissful, as if he’d spent the last few hours getting thoroughly fucked by a beautiful woman.

“So you enjoyed his attentions last night, I take it?” McCready sneered.

Kat stiffened. “It’s never about what I want,” she hissed, stepping away from Wyatt. He immediately missed the warmth of her at his back. “Is it?”

Her stance was challenging as she stared McCready down. Wyatt’s heart leapt to his throat. What the hell was she doing? Trying to get herself killed?

Wyatt stepped forward without even thinking, his instincts screaming at him to get between Kat and McCready. But apparently her defiance had been the exact reaction McCready had expected. Because he did something Wyatt hadn’t anticipated.

He laughed.

And with his laughter, he relaxed. And then Weston slumped. And finally the tension left Wyatt’s body.

“You’re a good little soldier, Kat, aren’t you?” McCready’s voice was slightly mocking, but not in a way that implied he didn’t believe her.

Kat stared at her boss for a long moment. “I’ll do whatever it takes to go home,” she said in a soft voice. To McCready’s mind, this obviously meant fucking the new guy to keep both him and McCready happy. But Wyatt knew she was referring to the steps she’d take to destroy McCready.

Wyatt’s heart swelled with pride for Kat. She was so brave, standing up to the man who’d given her hell for the last five years.

McCready grinned at her and stepped aside. “I’ll hold you to that.”

Kat strode forward as if to pass McCready. When she drew level with McCready, she paused. Looking McCready dead in the eye, she smiled her sweetest smile.

McCready frowned, not knowing what to make of it. Even when Kat resumed moving and headed along the corridor, McCready’s eyes stayed on her, his expression a mask of confusion.

Wyatt knew what that smile meant. It was a promise.

A promise to destroy McCready.

Wyatt smirked, buoyant, and followed Kat down the corridor. He didn’t bother looking at McCready, knowing nothing he could say or do would top Kat’s wordless vow.

They made it back to Kat’s room without saying anything. Wyatt glanced at the camera on the ceiling. The red light switched on as he was looking at it, and Wyatt frowned. Was McCready watching them?

He couldn’t ask Kat, in case he was, so instead he turned to her and smiled. “McCready hasn’t given me a room yet, so—”

Kat gripped his hand. “Stay,” she whispered, her voice low and trembling with something Wyatt couldn’t name. He smiled and tugged her closer until he could circle an arm around her waist. He kissed her forehead softly.

“You couldn’t keep me away.”

They got ready for bed, conscious McCready could be watching their every step and listening to their every word. A creeping sensation came over Wyatt, a self-consciousness that came with the knowledge there was someone watching and judging every move he made.

Eventually, they got into bed and Kat switched off the light. Wyatt stayed on his side of the bed, unsure how Kat would react his touch. He wanted to hold her, all through the night. He wanted to make love to her, too, but McCready watching them killed the mood. Soon, they’d be free of his clutches, and Wyatt could tell her how he felt. That he wanted her in his life, in his bed.

But even though they were in this intimate scene, it wasn’t the time to talk about the future. The low light, the sound of her breathing next to him, the soft warmth of his skin. It was distracting, and tempting.

Wyatt lay on his back, and imagined they were in a better place.

 

 

They were woken by a loud crash thundering through the room.

Wyatt had wrapped himself around Kat while he slept, and his first instinct was to roll her off the bed and flatten himself on top of her to protect her. Good thing he did, because seconds after they moved a gunshot exploded and then the bullet hit the mattress with a thud.

Kat was breathing hard, almost sobbing, but she was unharmed. Wyatt blinked the sleep from his eyes and glanced over the edge of the mattress.

Weston and Spider stood by the bed, fury etched on their faces. Weston raised his gun to point directly at Wyatt’s head, finger tightening on the trigger.

“We heard the gravedigger has been arrested. I wonder whose fault that it,” Weston hissed. He fired.

Wyatt dived back behind the bed as the bullet flew past, grazing the back of his head.

He grunted as the sharp pain rocketed through him.

“Wyatt!” Kat cried out.

He blinked, clearing his mind of the pain. “I’m okay,” he reassured her. But blood trickled down his back and his cheek, dripping onto her chest.

Her eyes were wide with panic, but Wyatt couldn’t think about that now. Spider and Weston were rounding the bed, their footsteps muffled by the carpet. They took their time, clearly not concerned Kat and Wyatt might escape.

Wyatt’s heart pounded in fear. Not for himself, but for Kat. He couldn’t lose her. Not when he’d finally found a woman who affected him the way she did. Not before they had a chance to see where their chemistry might take them. And he couldn’t let her be killed when she was so close to freedom from this place.

He’d die before he let that happen.

Wyatt pushed Kat under the bed, shuffling her until she was completely invisible. He pressed his lips against her ear.

“Get out the other side of the bed, out the door, then run. Find Darrell. I’ll distract them.”

He pulled back to study her face. Stark terror was written across her features. She shook her head, denying his words, but there was no time to argue.

Spider and Weston came into view, and Wyatt focused all his attention on them.

Weston raised his gun, pointing it directly between Wyatt’s eyes.

Wyatt kicked out from his position on the floor and the gun went flying. It clattered against the wall. Weston turned on Wyatt with intense fury in his gaze and dove straight for him. Wyatt rolled out of the way and gained his feet, bringing his hands up in a fighting stance. His head swam from the sudden manoeuvre, the blood trail on his head changing direction to follow gravity.

He blinked and focused, ready before Spider took a swing at him. Wyatt ducked, but he was oddly slow, and the blow barely missed him. He punched back, into Spider’s solar plexus. The big man grunted, but otherwise didn’t seem affected. Wyatt went for another punch, this time at his face, but Spider caught his wrist before he could connect.

Behind him, Weston levered to his feet. Without thinking, Wyatt lashed out with a side kick, striking him in the gut. Weston fell back onto the bedside table, and it rattled alarmingly under his weight.

Spider still held his right wrist, so Wyatt head-butted him. A mistake, because his aching head protested the clash and a fierce headache throbbed all through his skull.

Two against one. The odds weren’t great. Wyatt had to get out of here before he was killed.

Spider threw a punch, and Wyatt ducked again. At the same time he whipped his leg around and slapped Weston across the face with his foot. He straightened, his back now to Spider, and his wrist in Spider’s grip. He pulled Spider’s arm forward until his elbow was even with Wyatt’s shoulder, then he yanked the arm down hard.

A loud crack rent the air and Spider let out a yowl of pain. Wyatt had broken his arm.

Spider stumbled back, so Wyatt focused on Weston. He kicked the man in the face to buy himself some time, then leapt over the bed and ran for the door.

He crashed into Kat in the corridor, the two of them nearly toppling over in a tangle of limbs. Wyatt managed to keep his feet and dragged Kat along the corridor even before he regained his balance.

“I thought I told you to run?” he asked over his shoulder.

“You really thought I’d leave you?” she countered.

Wyatt didn’t have the time or the breath to argue, but a smile slipped across his face at her words.

He towed her in the direction of the patio door, to where he’d parked his sedan, but she pulled hard on his arm to stop him.

“No,” she gasped. “The garage.”

Wyatt stared at her in confusion.

“We won’t outrun a Lamborghini in your car,” she explained.

She was right. Wyatt changed direction, charging off towards the garage. When they got there, Kat ripped the keys off the wall and ran towards the Ferrari. She clicked it open and then tossed Wyatt the keys. He slid into the driver’s seat and switched the car on.

As the engine roared to life, Spider and Weston burst into the garage.

Wyatt threw the car into gear and stomped on the accelerator. The car lurched forward, immediately gaining speed in the short space. The front of the car crashed into the roll-up door of the garage and burst through the other side, the twisted metal scraping the pristine paint job of the red Ferrari. The front of the car was a bit crumbled from the impact, but the car still handled perfectly.

It leapt down the long driveway, flying like the wind. Wyatt had never driven a car like this at full speed and his heart pounded in exhilaration.

Even before they reached the gate to McCready’s property, two cars exited the garage behind them, this time after rolling the garage door up and out of the way. The orange Lamborghini was first, followed by the yellow one. No doubt it was Spider and Weston.

Wyatt turned left out of the gate and roared along the road. The side street was wide, empty, and well lit, not a surprise given the upper-class neighbourhood.

Wyatt turned the wheel at the last second, careening around a corner. The engine strained at the too-fast turn, but Wyatt held steady and managed not to spin out. He gunned the engine and sped off. Behind him, the two Lamborghinis skidded on the unexpected turn, bumping into each other. They righted themselves in time and Wyatt cursed as they gained on him.

“Where will we go?” Kat asked desperately.

“I don’t know,” Wyatt gritted out, then took another corner. He glanced at her. She looked frightened, her face pale, but her eyes were determined. Again, pride swelled within Wyatt. He could easily love this woman.

“We have to lose them first,” he continued. He focused back on the road. He had to either lose them…or make them crash.

Wyatt turned onto a main street. Despite the late—or early—hour, there were still cars on this well-trafficked thoroughfare. Wyatt dodged the Ferrari around the other cars, who honked aggressively as he passed. He was suddenly glad for all those defensive driving courses he’d taken as a cop.

He weaved through the minimal traffic. Behind him, the two Lamborghinis did the same. Wyatt let them get closer, easing off the gas slightly. His heart pounded as he waited for the right moment. His gaze darted between the road in front of him and the rearview mirror.

A turn appeared. Wyatt waited until the last second before he spun his wheel. The two cars behind him scrambled to follow.

But Wyatt had timed it perfectly. As he sailed through the intersection, a black SUV sped through his green light, narrowly missing the Ferrari. But the lead Lamborghini wasn’t so lucky. The SUV plowed into its side. Wyatt’s heart leapt as the orange metal crumpled beneath the SUV’s superior weight.

In the rearview mirror, he witnessed the Lamborghini get crushed between the SUV and a lamp post. Before anyone would have had time to exit the car—before it had even come to a complete stop—the car exploded in a ball of fire.

Wyatt gripped the steering wheel as the car rocked. Next to him, Kat gasped and clapped her hand over her mouth, peering out the back window at the fiery blaze. Wyatt slowed the car, since the other Lamborghini was still sitting in the intersection, where the driver had braked to avoid the SUV.

The driver stepped out of the car. From his size, Wyatt knew it was Weston.

Which meant Spider had been in the car that had exploded. For a brief second, Wyatt almost pitied the guy. It couldn’t be a pleasant way to go. But given who Spider was and what he’d done, Wyatt couldn’t bring himself to regret his actions.

The fire was spreading to the SUV now. Weston ignored the driver of that car as he hurried past, towards Spider.

Wyatt held his breath for a moment, until the driver’s side of the SUV swung open and a man fell out onto the pavement. After gasping for breath for a second, he got to his feet and stumbled as far from the inferno as he could.

“We need to go,” Kat said, eyes still on the roaring flames.

Wyatt studied her face for a moment. He saw no fear, no regret. Just a matter-of-factness, and maybe a hint of satisfaction. Wyatt breathed out a sigh of relief. If Kat had condemned him for killing Spider…

Well, he didn’t need to think about that now.

Instead, he threw the car into gear and sped off through the night.

 

 

Wyatt pulled up out the front of the same bar he’d taken Spider and Weston to. Kat shivered at the thought of the two men. Spider was most likely dead, and Weston would be out for vengeance.

But Kat couldn’t regret what she and Wyatt had done. Spider had deserved punishment for what he’d done to her, to the other girls, and what he’d nearly done to Ruthie. Maybe that made her cold and heartless. Maybe it was a sign she was broken beyond repair. But all Kat could think about when she thought of Spider being dead was good.

“What are we doing here?” she asked, staring up at the flickering neon sign.

“You’ll see,” Wyatt replied, opening his door and stepping out into the cool night. He was still only in the track pants she’d given him to sleep in, his bare chest on display. Kat took a second to admire his sculpted athlete’s muscles by the light of the floodlights before she, too, left the car. She clutched her phone to her stomach, which she’d grabbed while Wyatt had been fighting Weston and Spider.

Wyatt took one look at her bare legs peeking out from under her sleep shorts and frowned, though his eyes raked over her body hungrily. Kat’s nipples pebbled from his hot look and the cold air.

“On second thought, perhaps you’d better stay out here.”

Kat folded her arms across her chest and gave him a haughty look. “You’re not leaving me behind. Not now.”

“You specifically said you didn’t want to come in here last time, and now with you dressed like that…” His voice trailed off as if he was distracted by all her bare skin. Kat grinned, warmed from the inside by his obvious interest in her.

“I’ll be with you,” she countered.

Wyatt sighed. “We don’t have time to argue, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Wait!” she said.

Wyatt turned back with a confused frown. “What?”

Kat waved her hand near his head. “Do you really want to go in there with blood all over you?”

His gaze cleared. “Oh. Probably not.” He chuckled and strode back to the car. Kat followed him, her bare feet protesting the dirt and rocks on the ground.

Wyatt opened the trunk of the car, revealing two gym bags. This must be the car Weston and Spider took to training. Wyatt dug through them, pulling out a towel and wiping the blood off his head. Luckily, the wound had already stopped bleeding, so it wasn’t as bad as Kat had feared. Next, he dug deeper, pulling out a shirt, a pair of track pants, and some trainers.

He sniffed the shirt. “Clean,” he pronounced with some surprise. Then, he pulled it over his head. He held the track pants up against her, but the waist came up to her shoulders. He threw them back in the bag.

Next, he measured the shoes against the sole of his foot. They were close enough to his size, so he pulled them on. The other gym bag was better for her—Spider’s, she suspected, since he was much shorter than Weston. The top was too big for her, given Spider’s breadth, but the track pants were okay if she rolled them up at the ankles, and even the shoes were only a size or two too big. With his socks on, Kat could almost pretend they fit.

Kat tried not to think about the fact that she was probably wearing a dead man’s clothes. Even if they’d simply been Spider’s, it would have still creeped her out. But she was definitely more confident walking into that bar now she was more covered.

Wyatt closed the trunk and set off towards the bar. Kat hurried to follow him, not wanting to be too far from him.

It was close to 3am. Kat shivered in the cold, the darkness beyond the floodlights pressing in. Who knew what lay out there for them tonight, now McCready was after them. She didn’t know where they were going, or what they’d do. But at least she and Wyatt were together. She trusted him to keep her safe.

They stepped inside the bar, and the smell of stale beer and sweat hit her instantly. Kat tried not to gag and breathed shallowly through her mouth. Men’s eyes riveted on her, eyeing her bare shoulders, though she was standing behind Wyatt. She instantly regretted stepping inside this place. She’d forgotten how awful it was.

Wyatt held up the keys to the Ferrari. “Hey!” he yelled. More eyes turned in their direction, as bleary as they were curious.

“Anyone want a slightly dented newer model Ferrari for five hundred bucks?”

The bar fell silent as the patrons eyed Wyatt. Kat studied their faces. Most seemed to be deciding whether or not he was for real.

“I’m serious,” he said, as if sensing their doubt. “We’ve run into some trouble and need to offload it quickly.”

“Is it stolen?” someone asked from the back.

Wyatt hesitated. “Yes. But from a criminal who won’t be too concerned with getting it back. He’ll have bigger fish to fry, and there’s a ninety percent chance he’ll be in jail for life by next week.”

Still, the crowd was silent.

“Come on. It’s only five hundred bucks. The car is worth more than five hundred thousand, with all the upgrades on it. All you need to do is switch the plates and shave off the VIN number.”

Wyatt waited, silent and patient, until one man stood up. He was tall, with a beer gut and an impressively long beard streaked with grey. He pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and counted out the money as he manoeuvred around the tables towards them.

He finally reached Wyatt and stopped. Wyatt reached up to take the money the man held out between two fingers, but when he tugged the man didn’t let go.

Kat’s heart pounded in her throat.

“I find out you’re fucking with me, I will kill you.”

Wyatt smiled. “I wouldn’t blame you.” He looked completely unconcerned.

The guy let go of the money and Wyatt handed him the keys. The man slipped around Wyatt and out the door.

“Holy shit,” came his voice from outside, sounding impressed.

Wyatt turned to her, grinning, and Kat couldn’t help a thrill of satisfaction from coursing through her.

The Ferrari’s V12 engine roared to life, and then wheels squeaked as it sped out of the parking lot.

Noise filled the bar as people went back to their conversations, ignoring Kat and Wyatt.

“So what now?” she asked.

“Now, we find a bus to take us as far away from here as we can get.”

Intense tiredness fell over Kat at his words. They’d barely had any sleep, and the bus ride sounded long. But she steeled herself and nodded.

“There’s one around the corner. I’ve seen it when I picked Spider and Weston up.”

They walked over in the direction she pointed, shivering in the cold. An hour later they were on a bus heading to the other side of town. Kat was drifting off, her head bumping lightly into the cool window, when a thought crossed her mind. She rocketed into a sitting position and grabbed her phone.

The line rang, and rang, and Kat was afraid she wouldn’t pick up. It had been hours since she’d left McCready’s house, since he knew she’d betrayed him. What if he’d gone straight to her sister’s?

Kat had been so stupid. She should have called the second she’d left the house. But between the car chase, Spider’s potential death, and ditching the car, she hadn’t thought of it. She’d been too focused on her own survival, and now her sister might pay the price.

But finally a groggy voice answered.

“Hello?”

“Larissa, it’s me.”

“Kat? What the hell?”

Kat swallowed, bracing herself for what she was about to say. “Sweetie, you know when I talked about an escape plan? Well now’s the time.”

Kat felt a pair of eyes on her and glanced to the left to see Wyatt across the aisle, watching her closely with hooded eyes. She dismissed him for the moment, focusing on her sister.

“Kat, it’s ass-o’clock. Can’t this wait a few hours?”

“No,” Kat bit out. A twinge of guilt hit her for the abruptness in her voice, but her sister needed to know how important this was. “I already left McCready a few hours ago. He might come for you any minute. You have to get out before it’s too late.”

“Kat…” Larissa protested, but the sound of rustling sheets came through the line. Kat breathed a slight sigh of relief, but she wouldn’t truly relax until she knew her sister would be safe.

“I’m serious, Larissa. He could kill you in revenge for what I did to him. Or he could kidnap you for bait. I can’t risk that.”

“Okay,” Larissa said, sounding more awake. “I’m going.”

“Call me if you need anything,” Kat said urgently. “And text me when you’re safe.”

“Will do.”

They hung up. Kat stared at the phone for a second as if she could simply will her sister to be safe through the force of her want. Then, she turned to Wyatt.

“She has to be safe,” she told him in a cracked voice.

Wyatt’s gaze softened. “A few more days and McCready will be behind bars where he can’t hurt anyone.”

“And what do we do until then?”

“Hide. Wait.”

Kat swallowed back tears and nodded. She might be on the run and afraid, but she was finally free. For the first time in five years she wasn’t beholden to that man and his whims.

And Kat realised she was afraid. She had no safety net, nowhere to go, no one to help. Except Wyatt. She slid her gaze over to him. One look at her face and he stepped out of his seat and squeezed in next to her. Kat lay her head on his shoulder and let the tears fall. He bundled her closer, wrapping an arm around her and placing a comforting kiss on her brow.

“Shhh, we’ll be okay. We all will. I promise.”

“What will we do, when all this is over?”

Wyatt was silent for a moment. “Whatever we want.”

That’s what frightened Kat. What did she want? She’d never allowed herself to think about it, instead focusing on the here and now. Her future was open to her. It should have been freeing, but instead it was terrifying. Too much choice, too many potential mistakes.

Would she even be able to be normal after what she’d been through? With a job and a house and a mortgage? A normal woman with a normal relationship?

And children? Could she bring a kid into this world, knowing the worst of what the world had to offer? She glanced at Wyatt. Maybe. Maybe she could see herself having a child with a good man. A man who would protect her and their child.

She tilted her head to study what she could see of Wyatt’s face. His strong jaw, his three-day growth. Her stomach flipped, and her heart expanded at the sight of him.

It was that feeling more than anything which gave her hope. Maybe, after everything, there was a chance for her.

The question was, would he want her, too? She knew he desired her, but was that enough? Could he overcome her past and start a relationship with her? Kat didn’t voice her questions aloud. Instead, she snuggled deeper into Wyatt’s chest and let herself, just for a moment, dream.

 

 

Wyatt took them to a no-name motel on the other side of the city, picked at random from the few in the area.

“McCready doesn’t, to your knowledge, have tracking on your phone, does he?”

Kat shook her head. “Surely he would’ve used it when he wanted to know where we were earlier, right? When we were at the cemetery?”

Wyatt nodded, relieved. “Yeah. Yeah, he would have. Good thinking.”

They stepped up to the bored-looking clerk, who gave them a once-over, but didn’t mention their bedraggled appearance. Clearly, this was a man who had seen a lot in his seemingly-few years.

“What kind of room?” he asked, chewing on his gum. “Double?”

“You got a twin?” Wyatt asked.

The clerk gave him a disbelieving look. “Nah, we aren’t that kind of place.”

Kat hesitated to ask what kind of place, exactly, this was. But though it looked dingy, it was clean enough for a night or two. For a brief second she missed McCready’s pristine white mansion, but she immediately shoved that out of her head.

“Then…” Wyatt glanced at her. “Separate rooms?”

Kat shook her head, immediately panicked at the thought he might leave her, even to go one room away. “Let’s share.”

Wyatt’s gaze softened, and he smiled. He turned back to the clerk and requested a double room after all, then handed over some of the cash the man in the bar had given them earlier. They headed up to the room the clerk indicated. It was cramped, and had the faintly-musty smell of a room that hadn’t been aired in a while. But once Kat cracked a window it was bearable.

“Thank you for agreeing to share with me,” Kat said over her shoulder, not able to look at Wyatt. Now she was here, confronted by the reality of the double bed, she wasn’t so sure she’d made the right choice. What if he didn’t want this? Didn’t want her?

She’d have to lie next to him all night, wanting to touch him and not allowed to.

“Of course,” Wyatt said from behind her. “You must be tired. We should catch a few hours of sleep.”

She turned, then, searching for the words to tell him she didn’t want to sleep. She was too amped up, from the events of the night, with fear of her sister, and the lust coursing through her veins at the sight of him.

He was lying on his side on the bed, propped up on one elbow. His broad, tattooed chest was on full display, Weston’s t-shirt crumpled next to him, and Kat’s mouth watered.

“What do your tattoos mean?” she asked, delaying the inevitable.

Wyatt glanced at himself. “This one,” he said, pointing to the one across his chest, “Is for my brother.”

“Are they…angel wings?” she asked hesitantly.

He paused for a moment. “Yeah.”

His solemn face told her everything she needed to know. He believed his brother was dead.

Kat nodded, tears springing to her eyes. “And the others?” she asked, trying to distract him.

“Oh, bits and pieces I thought were cool. Nothing as meaningful as that one.”

Kat nodded. “Youthful indiscretions?”

He tilted his head back and laughed. “Something like that.”

“Were you a wild kid?” she asked, suddenly curious about him. She tugged off Spider’s tracksuit pants, readying herself for bed.

Wyatt turned, lying on his back to stare up at the ceiling. “Nah, I was the good kid. Disciplined. I got into martial arts first, and liked the structure of it. Dean was always the wild one. He liked travel, and adventure. It’s why he went into the military. Thinking back, we shouldn’t have let him go.”

Kat took a few steps and sunk down next to him. “Why do you say that?”

Wyatt shrugged. “When he came back, he was different, never quite the same. I think he was trying to deal with stuff in his own way. Trouble is, that took him straight to McCready’s door.”

“You think he had PTSD or something?”

“Maybe. Maybe he simply had trouble adjusting. But when he came back he craved adventure almost more than before. He was almost manic with it. Desperate. Either way, he would have been an easy mark for McCready to pick on.”

Kat eyed Wyatt for a long moment before voicing her next question. “Is that why you’re going to all these lengths to find out what happened to him? Guilt?”

Wyatt tensed and didn’t look at her, still staring up at the ceiling. He was silent for so long Kat was sure he was ignoring her on purpose. But then he let out a long breath.

“Maybe. I never thought of it like that, but maybe.”

Kat reached out a tentative hand and threaded their fingers together. Wyatt squeezed hers in return.

“You have to forgive yourself. Whatever Darrell finds, or doesn’t, it isn’t your fault.”

“I could have done more,” Wyatt said in a hoarse voice. “I should have done more to protect him.”

“He was his own man, Wyatt. I know you did what you could. He would have known you were there for him, but he chose not to take the help that was there for him. That’s not your fault.”

Wyatt’s grip on her hand was almost painful as deep emotions played across his face, but Kat didn’t dare let go.

“I miss him,” Wyatt said eventually, voice barely above a whisper.

“I know,” Kat replied. She twisted so she was lying next to Wyatt, facing him, even as he continued to stare at the ceiling. She reached out and ran her hands through his hair in a soothing gesture. Wyatt’s eyes fluttered closed, so she did it again. And again.

Slowly, the tension drained out of him. Kat’s arm ached from holding it up for so long, but still she ran her fingers through his hair.

She was almost convinced Wyatt was asleep when his eyes suddenly snapped open and his gaze fastened on hers. Her breath caught. Desire burned hot in his expression, lighting a fire within her. Kat didn’t dare move, afraid it would break the spell. She kept stroking her fingers through his hair. This time the gesture wasn’t one of comfort, but one of desire.

“Kat,” he groaned, and her core tightened at the need in his voice. “You know how I said I wouldn’t sleep with you until you could say no?”

Her stomach tumbled. “Yes?”

“Well, will you sleep with me tonight?”

Kat’s stomach clenched and the hot flames of desire raced beneath her skin at his words. This was it, the moment she’d been dreaming of. She grinned, leaned down, and kissed him lightly on the lips.

“Yes,” she whispered, her lips moving against his, light as a feather.

A shiver wracked him. “Okay,” he said, but didn’t move, didn’t breathe.

Kat kissed him again, shifting so she lay across his chest. His breath caught in his chest as her breasts pressed against him.

“Can I touch you?” he murmured. He lifted his hand and let it hover close to her skin, waiting for permission. Their gazes locked.

“Yes,” she breathed.

Slowly, he moved his hand until his fingers trailed lightly down her arm. She shivered. When was the last time she’d been touched with such care? He didn’t grab her, his hands weren’t rough. Instead, he did exactly what he’d asked permission for—touched.

Touched her skin. Touched her soul.

Kat revelled in the moment. She didn’t kiss him again, or hurry things along. She just basked in the sensual feeling of a man gently exploring her skin.

His other hand joined in, flattening against her back, over her shirt. He skimmed his palm along her spine. Cotton shifted over her back, a light whisper of fabric.

Kat ran her fingers over his ribs, exploring him as he was doing to her. He had a tattoo on his ribcage, a swirling design she couldn’t make out in the low light. She traced it with her fingertip and his muscles bunched at her touch. She grinned and continued exploring. The angel wings below his collarbone, the light hair on his chest. She wanted to know it all.

She didn’t want to rush this, to jump into things too soon. There would be time for quick and dirty fucks later, if this was a more-than-one-night encounter. But if it wasn’t, she wanted this to last. She wanted to enjoy being treasured.

His hand slipped beneath her shirt.

“Is this okay?” he asked.

It was more than okay. It was soft and caring and everything she’d hoped for. “Yes.”

Their breaths mingled. Kat leaned down to kiss him again. He kissed her back, but let her set the pace, not taking over the kiss. Kat tangled their tongues, slowly and languorously. She cupped his face, her palms rasping over the stubble on his jaw.

His other hand slipped beneath her tank top, pulling her closer. Her nipples pebbled at the friction as they slid against his chest, the thin cotton of her nightgown rough against the sensitised skin.

Kat gasped into Wyatt’s mouth, her core pulsing with need. She deepened the kiss, and Wyatt followed her lead, tasting and exploring her mouth with his tongue, as his hands were doing to her torso.

His hands slid to her sides, spanning her ribcage. They hesitated there, asking a question he couldn’t voice with her tongue down his throat.

She broke the kiss, pulling back to give Wyatt blanket permission to touch her, but he spoke before she could.

“I want to cup your breasts.” His gaze was heated now, more insistent. His cock was hard beneath her thigh. He wanted her—badly—but he was still holding himself under tightly leashed control.

Kat was about to tell him to do what he liked with her, when he continued.

“I want to take each of your breasts into my mouth. I want to tease them until you’re begging me for more. May I?” His voice was practically a growl.

The air caught in her chest. She couldn’t breathe, so overcome from hearing the raw words. Hearing what Wyatt wanted, what he wanted to do to her.

She’d never thought dirty talk would work for her, but apparently she’d been listening to the wrong kind. When it was real, from the heart, it was incredibly sexy. It didn’t hurt that Wyatt—gorgeous, honourable, sweet Wyatt—was looking at her with such pent-up passion that Kat was sure she’d combust.

“Yes,” she gasped. “Please.”

She threw her leg over him, straddling him. She planted her hands on his chest and levered herself up to stare at the strong man now at her mercy. He was still letting her be in control. No matter how much he wanted her, he was giving her all the power. Asking her if she wanted this every step of the way, careful not to take over in case she felt she couldn’t say no.

Kat’s heart expanded with the gesture, and she knew instantly that she was in love with Wyatt. It was too much, too soon, but she knew him. She knew his soul intimately, knew who he was. And she loved that man more than she’d thought was possible.

She hoped he wouldn’t break her vulnerable heart, but even if he did—this love was a gift, one she never thought she’d feel again. But Wyatt had proven to her that there were still honourable, decent men in this world, men with good hearts, and it restored her faith in the human race and men in particular.

Kat chuckled, joy dancing through her.

“Touch me,” Kat whispered. “Touch me everywhere. I want this, Wyatt. All of it.”

His grin filled her heart to bursting. Then, he sat up abruptly, until they were face to face. His forearm came around her lower back to steady her and Kat gripped his shoulders for balance. He tilted his head and kissed her gently.

“Just know,” he said, catching her gaze with his. “You can always say no to me. I won’t stop wanting you, but I’ll always respect that word.” His eyes bored into hers. Her breath froze in her chest at the sincerity written across his face.

“I know. I trust you.”

Wyatt’s hand settled possessively on her bare thigh. “That’s the greatest gift you could give me,” he whispered, then caught her mouth in a kiss.

Kat fell in love with him all over again as he explored her mouth thoroughly. Wyatt had known exactly what to say to her. Rather than make her feel broken, or tainted, he treated her past as simply a part of her. Treating her trust as a precious gift was a gift in itself.

“Thank you,” she told him.

He didn’t reply. Instead, he flexed his hips, rubbing his hard cock against her core. Kat gasped as fire arced through her, centring on the point between her thighs.

Wyatt kissed her, hard and deep and Kat clung on for dear life. Pent-up desire was spilling from him. Kat had underestimated Wyatt. He’d been holding himself under such control around her, not because he didn’t want her, but because he did.

He pulled her closer, until there wasn’t even air between them. The friction against her nipples caused tugs deep in her stomach.

Kat tasted him, drinking in the sensations of the moment. How he felt against her, the taste and smell of him. She wanted to imprint every second of this on her memory. In case he left her, in case McCready found them, in case…

She tore her mind away from the what ifs and focused on Wyatt in her arms. He ran his hand up her thigh to palm her ass cheek. She rolled her hips, seeking friction, and Wyatt encouraged the movement. It wasn’t enough, though. She needed more, needed him inside her.

Wyatt tore his mouth from hers and fell back on the bed, displaying himself like a feast for her eyes. Kat ran her hands over his bare chest, digging her nails in. He groaned, his hips bucking beneath her.

“You like that, huh?” she asked.

“I like everything you do to me,” he replied. If they had more time, more opportunities, Kat would take that as a challenge. For now, though, she just smiled and tore off her tank top. She didn’t wear a bra to bed, so her breast sprang free. Wyatt made a pleased rumble deep in his chest and immediately ran his hands up her rib cage and cupped her breasts.

Kat arched her back, pressing her breasts further into his palms. He tugged at her nipples and Kat rolled her hips again. Her skin tightened. She wanted this man more than she’d ever wanted anyone.

Kat pressed forward until she could kiss him. Wyatt gripped her hips and before Kat knew what was happening, she was flat on her back with Wyatt on his hands above her. Her legs dangled off the edge of the bed from the knee. She expected him to continue the kiss, but for a long moment he simply stared down at her. Kat’s heart lurched at the thought he might have changed his mind.

Wyatt’s gaze was still dark and hot, though. And his cock was grinding against her clit in a way that made her squirm.

“One last time. Are you sure you want this?” Wyatt asked again in a low, taut voice.

Kat’s heart melted. Even though he was turned on, his cock heavy with desire, she had no doubt that if she refused him, he’d walk away from her right now.

Instead, she reached up and wrapped her arms and legs around him, pulling him against her.

She kissed him, then pressed her lips against his ear.

“Yes,” she whispered.

His whole body shuddered at the word. It broke some kind of dam within him, because suddenly he was kissing her with fierce desire. His hands were everywhere, as if he wanted to touch every part of her at once.

Kat’s craving for him spiked, and she desperately needed him inside her. But Wyatt clearly had other ideas. He slipped out of her grip, kissing his way along her neck. His teeth grazed that muscle between her neck and shoulder, almost as if he considered marking her as his own.

Kat shivered at the thought.

Instead, he continued down her bare chest, placing hot, open-mouthed kisses along her skin. He was side-tracked by her breasts, kissing and licking and playing with them while Kat squirmed beneath him, trying to find friction to assuage her growing need.

Reluctantly, he left her breasts, leaving one hand behind to continue his play as he kissed his way over her stomach. He paused when he reached the waistband of her pyjama shorts and looked up at her through hooded lashes, as if giving her one last chance to escape.

But Kat couldn’t think of anything she wanted more in this moment than his mouth on her. She pushed down her shorts and raised her hips as Wyatt took over. In an instant, she was completely bare to him. Wyatt’s hungry gaze raked over her.

“I wanted to do this last night,” he confessed. “But I’m glad we waited.”

Heat spread through her at his words.

Then, he spread her legs wide, crouching on the floor by the bed so he was level with her core. With his thumbs, he opened her to his gaze. His hungry look intensified, and Kat’s desire heightened at the knowledge he wanted her so badly.

Maybe there was hope for them.

His tongue touched her, and her hips bucked off the bed. Wyatt’s fingers dug into her thighs to hold her still, even as he held her open. He played with her, teasing her, until Kat was a sobbing mess of desire.

Her orgasm was right there within reach, all she needed was—

He inserted two fingers into her and Kat cried out in pleasure. They stretched, filled her. It wasn’t as good as his cock, but as desperate as she felt, she’d take it.

He pumped them in and out of her a few times. Kat gripped his hair, forcing his mouth hard against her. His lips curved into a smile and he sucked at her clit obligingly.

She was close, so close.

A few more expert manoeuvres and Kat was coming hard, twisting against the cheap fabric of the bedspread. Wyatt didn’t stop, riding her through the waves of her orgasm until she lay back, limp and exhausted.

Kat’s chest heaved as if she’d run a marathon and her skin tingled all over. The second Wyatt stood and shucked his track pants, freeing his cock, desire stirred in her all over again. He stroked himself, watching her with dark eyes.

“I’ve thought about this moment a lot,” he rasped, eyes flaming with heat.

“Me, too,” Kat whispered.

She licked her lips. If her muscles were working, she would wrap her lips around that beautiful cock in a heartbeat. Instead, she lay sprawled where he left her, her muscles lax. But as Wyatt fisted himself, his gaze narrowing, Kat’s core clenched in desire.

She needed him in her.

“Wyatt,” she said, reaching for him. He stepped closer to her, tangling their hands together, still holding himself with the other. “Get inside me,” she demanded, tilting up her hips in invitation.

Wyatt sighed, and Kat’s heart skipped in concern.

“No condoms,” he said.

“Drawer?” Kat suggested automatically. Wyatt opened the drawer in the bedside table, but it only held a bible. He strode into the adjoining bathroom, his bare ass drawing her gaze. Cabinets opened and closed, and then he reappeared, shaking his head.

Kat stared at him for a long moment. “I don’t care,” she said. In fact, she couldn’t imagine anything she wanted more in this moment than the man she loved to put a baby in her. Even if he left her after tonight, she’d carry a child with her, a perfect symbol of a fresh start. Something good and pure to love, who loved her unconditionally in return.

And it would be Wyatt’s, the man she loved.

Maybe they could even be a family, like normal people. Starting afresh, together.

Either that, or McCready would end them both within the next twenty-four hours. And if that was the case, she didn’t want to leave this earth without having Wyatt inside her.

“Please,” she begged.

Wyatt shook his head. “I—”

A thought came to Kat, and her heart clutched. “I’m clean, I promise. McCready made us get tested regularly.”

Wyatt’s expression grew sad, as if that thought hadn’t occurred to him and it upset him that she was thinking it.

“I don’t want you to regret this tomorrow. What if you…” He trailed off.

“I want this,” Kat said, meaning every word. “I won’t regret it. My head is clear, and I’m thinking straight. And what I’m thinking is that if you don’t get your cock in me now, I’ll scream.”

Wyatt’s mouth kicked up into a grin. “I hope you’ll scream anyway.”

A thrill of triumph raced through Kat as Wyatt stepped towards her. She shuffled back on the bed until her head was on the pillows. Wyatt came over her, pressing her into the mattress with his body as he kissed her soundly.

Kat clung to him, never wanting to let him go. He levered himself up on his elbows, then flexed his hips and his cock nudged her opening. Kat tilted her hips and he slipped in further. She gasped as he stretched her, filling her, as he slowly slid in to the hilt.

They groaned in unison when he was finally seated deep within her.

“You feel so good,” he told her.

“So do you,” Kat gasped. She wrapped her legs around his back, urging him to move.

He obeyed, sliding out of her and back in. Her nerve endings lit up, already sensitised from her previous orgasm. She gripped his biceps to steady herself.

Wyatt held her gaze as he flexed his hips again. She’d never experienced such intimacy, him inside her as their gazes were locked together. It connected them in a profound way. Or, perhaps she was still high on love and her fantastic orgasm.

But there was definitely something tying them together, something Kat didn’t quite understand. She couldn’t figure it out while he was pumping into her, making her mind go hazy.

He quickened his pace with every stroke until he was slamming into her. Kat’s mind went blank. All she could think about was the sensations rocketing through her. Him inside her, her building orgasm, his slick skin against hers.

Wyatt gritted his teeth, clearly straining to hold back his own pleasure. Kat loosened one hand from where it still gripped his arm, and circled her clit. Her hips bucked at the pleasure that crashed through her and she increased her speed until she was orgasming all over again.

Wyatt flexed his hips a few more times, pushing into her until he, too, came, spurting his seed deep within her.

Kat lay boneless beneath him as he collapsed on top of her, enjoying his weight as she slowly regained her breath and her sanity. She kissed his shoulder in thanks, and trailed her fingers up his spine until he shivered.

He rolled off her, and Kat had a moment to feel bereft until he tucked her into his side and kissed the top of her head.

Kat’s heart swelled. This was like a new beginning, something precious and real between them. But she didn’t dare ask what he felt, in case it broke the spell.

Tomorrow, she promised herself.

She’d ask him tomorrow.

 

 

Their peace didn’t last long.

The shrill ring of a phone pierced the silence. Wyatt and Kat shared a look, then she scrambled out of bed to find her phone. Wyatt immediately missed her warmth, but shook off the feeling. Anyone calling Kat at this hour either had very good news…

Or very bad.

Wyatt threw the bedsheets back to reveal the phone tangled beneath them. Kat dived for it, then answered the call with a breathless, “Hello?”

Her face changed as she listened to whoever was on the other end of the line, going from hopeful, to distraught. Wyatt’s stomach sank. He immediately stood and pulled on his track pants from where he’d abandoned them earlier. Next he found Weston’s t-shirt, and then the shoes.

He kept half an ear on Kat’s side of the conversation, but she didn’t say much. “Yes, of course,” she finished, then hung up. She threw the phone on the bed and stared at him with stricken, hopeless eyes.

Wyatt strode to her and immediately folded her into his arms. She clung desperately to him. “Who was that?” he asked, but he was afraid he already knew.

“McCready. He has my sister. She didn’t get away in time. And he has Ruthie, too.” She tilted her head back, revealing tears streaming down her cheeks. “This is all my fault.”

“You can’t think like that,” Wyatt urged. He knew too well what guilt could do to a person.

“We should’ve taken Ruthie with us. And I should’ve called my sister first. I can’t believe I forgot until it was too late.” She sobbed, clutching at his t-shirt. “If they die because of me…”

“Hey, don’t think like that. We both did the best we could under the circumstances. For now, they’re still alive. And that’s all we need.”

Kat took a shuddering breath. “We have to save them.”

His heart broke at the fear and pain on her face. “We will. Tell me what he said.”

“We have to meet him at the warehouse where he stages the fights. If he sees or smells any cops, he’ll kill the girls. It can’t be anyone else there except the two of us.”

“And?” Wyatt asked, stroking his hands along her back for comfort.

“What do you mean?” she asked, her brows tugging in confusion.

“Well, is this a trade? Us for them?”

Kat swallowed. “I didn’t ask, I was too scared for Larissa.” Her gaze was apologetic, and Wyatt kissed away the tremble in her lips.

“It’s okay. It’d be a trap anyway. There’s no way he intends to let any of us go.”

“If it’s a trap, what do we do?” She was staring up at him like he could solve all the world’s problems. He felt like a hero—and a fraud. But he’d do the best he could, for her.

Wyatt considered the question. “How long until we have to meet him?”

“An hour.”

Not much time to prepare. “I guess we have to make a trap of our own.” At her questioning look, he continued. “We have to focus on getting the girls to safety, right? So here’s the plan.”

He outlined his idea to her, and she looked at him skeptically. “We just walk in there, no weapons or anything? McCready has plenty of those, and more manpower.”

“The only people he’d trust right now are Spider and Weston, and Spider is either dead or severely injured. I think we have a chance against McCready and Weston, particularly if we can disarm them.”

Kat gave him a long look. “I guess we don’t have much of a choice.”

“Right. Now we need to find a ride.”

Ten minutes later they were on their way to the warehouse in a taxi driven by a yawning driver. When he’d pulled up to the hotel, he’d given Wyatt and Kat one look and almost sped away. It wasn’t until Wyatt paid up front—plus generous tip—that he agreed to take the two poorly-dressed people to the dodgy district on the other side of town.

“Are you sure this is a good plan?” Kat whispered to him as they neared the warehouse.

Wyatt studied her. No, he wasn’t sure. And if it was up to him, he’d leave Kat back at the hotel and go alone, keep her safe. She already meant so much to him in such a short time, and he’d never forgive himself if anything happened to her.

But she felt the same about her sister. Kat would never live with the guilt if Larissa died. Wyatt placed her feelings above his own, for now and forever.

He wished they had time to talk before they walked into that warehouse tonight. There was every chance Wyatt wouldn’t walk out again, and he wanted Kat to know how he felt in case the worst happened. But the back seat of a taxi with a curious driver wasn’t the time for these kinds of conversations—the ones where he asked if there was a place for him in her life, after all this was over.

He wanted that, more than anything. He’d been torn about what to do once his mission was finished. But now he knew—he wanted to start a life with Kat. Maybe even a family, if it came to that. When she’d said earlier she’d wanted him to come inside her, a switch had been flipped in him. The thought of him planting a child in her gave him a sense of peace and happiness he hadn’t had in a long time. And he hoped they’d get that chance after tonight.

Unable to say all the words itching to tumble from him, Wyatt just smiled. “We can do this.”

She managed a smile in return, and again Wyatt was struck by her courage. His heart squeezed. They’d both survive tonight. They had to.

The driver disappeared as soon as they exited the car, leaving them alone in the empty lot in front of the familiar warehouse.

“I’ve always hated this place,” Kat spat.

Wyatt sent her a grin. “I have some good memories here.”

Her face softened, and Wyatt leaned down to kiss her. He tried not to make it a goodbye kiss, unwilling to believe they wouldn’t make it out of this alive. But some of his worries and fear must have leeched through, because Kat gave him a quizzical look.

“I’ll take McCready, you get the girls to safety, okay?” he said to distract her. “If Weston is there, stay out of his way as much as you can.”

Again, the urge to protect her, keep her safe, welled up in him, but he had no choice but to let her in that warehouse even if his every instinct protested against it.

“Let’s go.” He took her hand as they crossed the parking lot and opened the door cut from the corrugated iron that made up the walls of the warehouse.

The second they stepped into the pitch black space, a deafening gunshot roared through the air. Wyatt dived left, Kat to the right, their hands ripping apart. A shot sounded again as Wyatt scrambled forward, his ears ringing from the sound.

Another gunshot, and another. Wyatt kept scrambling forward as holes formed in the corrugated iron behind him, allowing moonlight to stream in. He spared a thought for Kat, hoping she wasn’t also the target of the gunfire. His plan was to distract McCready, and it worked sooner than he’d expected.

His eyes were adjusting, allowing him to see a vague shape standing near the centre of the warehouse, where the cage was usually set up for the fights. Only this time there was no ring, no spectators. Just McCready in his usual immaculate suit.

Wyatt braced himself for another burst of gunfire and changed direction. McCready let off a few more shots and Wyatt winced from the sound. But then a click echoed through the empty space. McCready was out of bullets.

Wyatt didn’t stop moving, assuming the man had other weapons. He sprinted further away from the open door, into the darkness at the back of the warehouse, knowing it would help hide him.

But no more gunshots came. Wyatt paused in his run, cocking his ear in McCready’s direction, but there was no sound of a cocking gun or a reloading pistol.

“Was that it?” Wyatt sneered. “One gun?”

McCready growled in the darkness. “Your cop friends came with a warrant and seized everything for evidence. All my files, all my weapons. They found all my stashes, all my backups. You’ve RUINED EVERYTHING,” McCready roared from the darkness.

Wyatt grinned. Judge Connor had obviously wanted that evidence out of McCready’s hands as soon as possible. He didn’t know whether it would stay in police hands, either, or mysteriously disappear as a thank you, but it didn’t matter. McCready was finished.

The lights flickered on overhead, and Wyatt winced at the sudden flood. He blinked, forcing his eyes to adjust. Weston was standing by the light switch. Ruthie and a woman who could only be Larissa were both tied up against the far wall, Kat crouched next to them with her hands on their restraints.

Wyatt immediately turned his attention back to McCready so the man wouldn’t notice Kat freeing the hostages.

“In that case, we’ll have to do this the old-fashioned way,” he said. He slowly moved toward McCready, in case the man’s lack of weapons was a trick. But no new gun appeared.

He stopped a few feet from McCready, where the edge of the cage would be, and held his hands up in front of his chest, ready. McCready sent him a savage smile.

“I’d be happy to.” He peeled off his jacket and flung it to the dusty warehouse floor. Next, came the pristine white shirt, revealing a thin white tank top and his bulging arm muscles covered in tattoos. He was stripping away the trappings of wealth and respectability he’d clearly fought so hard for, revealing the brutal man he really was.

Wyatt waited rather than attacking. His goal here was to delay, not to actually beat McCready. He strained his ears for the sound of sirens, a police car, anything, but nothing sounded beyond the warehouse walls.

McCready rolled his shoulders, preparing like the fighter he was and tried so hard not to be. Wyatt readied himself, watching McCready carefully. The man was known for encouraging dirty tricks in the ring with his fighters, and Wyatt wouldn’t put it past him to do the same here.

The first blow swung out of nowhere, and Wyatt ducked, driving his fist into McCready’s chest. But the man barely reacted, grunting before swinging his elbow back and catching Wyatt on the back of his head. Wyatt stumbled to his knees, coming down hard on the concrete. His head swum.

Wyatt didn’t even have a second to recover before McCready had him in a headlock. Wyatt’s lungs burned, unable to suck in air. He was shocked at McCready’s skill. The man should be out of shape, out of practise. Instead, he was as quick and deadly as if he’d been stepping into the ring for years.

He couldn’t allow McCready to drop him so quickly. His one job was to delay, and that wouldn’t happen if McCready killed him inside a minute. His vision blurred from lack of oxygen.

Wyatt’s gaze found Kat and the sight of her gave him strength. He drove an elbow into McCready’s stomach. The man flinched but didn’t loosen his grip.

Wyatt reached back with both hands and grasped McCready’s skull. Then he drove his thumbs directly into the man’s eye sockets.

McCready yelled in pain and his arm around Wyatt’s throat loosened. Wyatt sucked in a deep breath and threw himself forward out of McCready’s reach. He blindly kicked back for good measure, connecting with McCready, but not sure where.

Movement caught his eye ahead of him. Wyatt froze for a moment. Weston was barrelling towards Kat, fury etched across his features.

“Look out!” Wyatt called. It was the only warning he could give before McCready grasped him from behind and pulled him back into the fight.

 

 

Kat glanced up from the knot on Ruthie’s hands as Wyatt called out in warning. Their eyes met. She was just in time to see McCready wrap a hand around Wyatt’s throat and drag him backwards. A warning died on her lips. It would do no good.

Then, a shadow loomed over her. Kat had a second to register it was Weston, death in his gaze, before he picked her up with both hands and threw her as far as he could. She landed with a jarring thud and skidded across the filthy floor, a graze already stinging along her bare skin.

Weston followed her, his long strides eating up the distance between them. “You killed Spider,” he growled. “You’re going to pay.”

“He was trying to kill us!” Kat protested, levering herself to her feet. The protest fell on deaf ears.

“You need to die for your betrayal.” He reached her and bent down. Fear pounded through her, making her mind freeze in panic. His large hand closed around her throat, cutting off her air. He lifted her until she was level with his face, her feet dangling.

Kat would have screamed but no sound could come out. Her lungs burned.

She kicked out, her foot connecting with Weston’s groin. He doubled over, dropping her, and Kat landed hard again. She’d be sore tomorrow. For now, though, she only had to get out of Weston’s reach. She scooted backwards, then twisted to get her feet under her.

Weston had recovered quickly and was already advancing on her again. Kat’s heart pounded in her chest. She couldn’t escape him. But all she had to do was delay. As long as she made it out alive, she’d be okay.

But the cops should have been here by now. What the fuck was taking them so long?

Weston reached for her again. A small figure flew up from behind and wrapped herself around Weston’s back. It was Ruthie, he hands still bound with fabric, but she was using that to her advantage, pulling the rope against Weston’s throat.

Kat scrambled to her feet and backed away, hoping Ruthie could take care of herself for a moment.

Weston choked and shook himself, trying to throw her off, but Ruthie held on tight. Seconds later, Larissa appeared, like a smaller version of Kat. She’d put on weight since Kat had seen her last, which she was glad for. She looked healthier than ever, always having been a painfully thin teenager.

Larissa kicked Weston in the knee as Ruthie strangled him. His knee buckled but he stayed upright. One of his hands gripped Ruthie’s hair behind him, while the other reached for Larissa.

Larissa darted out of the way, but Weston used his grip on Ruthie’s hair to throw her over his shoulder. She yelled in pain, landing hard.

Kat ducked into the storage room off the main warehouse space. Weston’s lumbering footsteps sounded behind her.

She looked around quickly for a weapon, switching on the light. The familiar room was revealed as the light flickered on. This is where they kept the folding chairs and the cage when the fights were finished. She and the other girls had often had the duty of setting up and tidying the place before and after the fights.

Weston’s footsteps were closer, so she grabbed the first thing at hand—a folding chair. She turned and swung it with all her might, catching Weston across the face. His face registered surprise for a moment before it shifted to anger. Kat didn’t wait for him to move again. She stepped back and swung the chair back the other way. The blow was weaker this time, coming from her left side, but it was still enough to daze him.

Weston let out a yell as he stumbled to the side, swinging blindly. Cuts had opened on his face, and blood was trickling from the wounds.

Kat backed away, holding the chair up like a shield. Her arms were starting to tire. What would it take to drop him? She knew he had to be used to hits to the head since bare-knuckle fighting was his profession, but this was ridiculous.

Well, she’d simply have to hit him harder.

She kept backing away, but she was running out of room. Finally, Weston stood next to the rows upon rows of folding chairs leaning against the wall. Kat raised the chair and took an almighty swing in Weston’s direction. He stretched out his hand to block the blow, but the momentum of her swing sent him tumbling into the rows of chairs with a bang.

Twisted metal slid out from beneath him, sending him to the floor with a crash. Chairs fell on top of him, burying him under a pile of black metal.

Weston wasn’t out cold, she could still see him squirming to get out from under the pile. She needed a way to keep him down.

Ruthie and Larissa barrelled into the room. They were holding the fabric that had been used to bind their hands and feet. Kat grinned.

Perfect.

She took the fabric from them and turned back to the still struggling Weston. He’d managed to clear some of the chairs, but he was still trapped.

“You girls sit on him, and I’ll tie him up.”

Ruthie and Larissa hastily obeyed, scrambling over the chairs until they were seated on the ones pinning Weston. Kat hurriedly tied him up, straining to hold down his flailing arms and legs until he was finally subdued.

“You girls watch him until the cops come,” she instructed Ruthie and Larissa.

They glanced at each other, smiled, then nodded.

Kat eyed them for a moment, then turned to go back to Wyatt, hoping he was still alive.

 

 

Blood trickled from multiple cuts on Wyatt’s face, including a split lip. Bruises bloomed across his body. Exhaustion had crept in ten minutes ago, and the breath sawed in his chest.

Wyatt wasn’t sure how much longer he could last. Where the fuck was Darrell?

McCready didn’t look much better than Wyatt, equally battered and bruised. Wyatt had given him a savage beating, but the bastard was still standing. It gave Wyatt a measure of satisfaction, but it wasn’t enough.

“You’re finished, McCready,” he spat. The two of them were circling each other, waiting for the next chance to strike.

McCready snarled. “You’re the one who’ll be dead.”

Wyatt lashed out with a combination of quick punches, landing one after another on McCready’s chest. McCready took a swing at him, the fist glancing off Wyatt’s already sensitive cheekbone.

They both stepped back for a breather.

“Where’d you fight?” Wyatt asked.

“In the back streets. Then Golan found me, took me to his gym, where I learned to box properly. I nearly made it to the Olympics.” Pride puffed McCready’s chest.

“Did they kick you off the team?” Wyatt guessed.

McCready bared his teeth and Wyatt knew he’d struck a nerve.

“They always had it out for me. The poor kid from the wrong side of the tracks. Those smug, rich bastards were afraid of me.”

“Then you became one of them,” Wyatt panted, avoiding a kick from McCready by inches.

“And I used them, took their money and their pride. I owned those men. Senators and CEOs alike. I controlled their every move.”

“Did that make you feel like a big man?” Wyatt mocked.

McCready growled. “They deserved what they got.”

Wyatt didn’t point out the men McCready had blackmailed and destroyed were not the same ones who had kicked him off the Olympics team. McCready didn’t seem in the mood to listen.

“Well—”

Wyatt’s words were cut off by a brutal blow to the face he hadn’t seen coming. He staggered back. Unable to keep himself upright, he fell hard, his head cracking against the concrete.

McCready was on him in an instant, pounding his fists into Wyatt’s face and neck. Wyatt held his forearms up to protect his head from blows, but McCready found the openings.

Wyatt twisted, attempting to buck him off, but McCready was in a frenzy now.

“Die, you bastard,” McCready hissed.

The fists disappeared, and Wyatt blinked. What was happening? One eye had swollen over and blood was trickling into the other, blurring his vision. McCready reached into his trouser pocket, and Wyatt saw a glimpse of brass before he groaned. McCready’s favourite trick. He should have known.

Wyatt knocked McCready’s hand away, but the blow to the head must have weakened him because it barely made a difference.

McCready leaned forward. “You won’t make it out of here alive,” he hissed.

He raised his fist, and Wyatt braced himself for the blow. It came seconds later, shattering his cheek in an explosion of pain.

He cried out. McCready raised his fist again. Wyatt knew this is it. He should have told Kat how he felt outside the warehouse. He shouldn’t have been so afraid. Because now he’d die and she’d never know he’d fallen in love with her.

Her voice called his name in the distance, panic laced through. He wanted to reassure her, but he couldn’t find the breath.

His vision clouded.

This was it. Kat filled his thoughts, and Wyatt was glad that if he leaving this earth, it was on a road paved with her.

McCready’s fist descended. Wyatt’s vision blacked out before it connected, heightening his other senses.

A blast roared. Wyatt waited for McCready’s fist to connect, but it didn’t. Instead, his weight toppled off Wyatt.

Two more blasts sounded, closer this time. Gunshots? His hazy brain couldn’t be sure.

All Wyatt knew was that he wasn’t dead.

“Kat?” he whispered.

“I’m here.” Her voice was a healing balm to his body and his soul. He couldn’t even feel the pain anymore, only numbness. Soft hands lifted his head and placed it in a lap—hers. She stroked her hand gently through his hair.

“I love you,” he murmured, afraid he wouldn’t get another chance.

“I love you,” she whispered back. Something splashed on his face. He forced his eyes open to see her hunched over him, tears spilling from her eyes.

“Don’t be sad,” he said. “You’re free.”

She shook her head and a bitter laugh escaped her. “Not without you. So you stay with me, okay?”

Stay with her? He couldn’t think of anything he wanted to do more.

A dark shape loomed over them and Darrell came into view. Wyatt squinted up at him. “What took you so long?”

“Sorry, man. That warrant was a bitch to get. But it looks like I arrived right on time.”

Wyatt chuckled, then winced in pain. “I could have done with a few less bruises, but you keep telling yourself you’re the hero here.”

Darrell laughed. “I am the hero. I dropped McCready. More than you can say.”

Wyatt groaned. “Of course you’d steal the credit, when I was the one acting as bait. I got my ass kicked for you.”

“Whatever, man,” he replied playfully. “Hey, the ambulance is on its way, so hold on.”

With herculean effort, Wyatt reached up and gripped one of Kat’s hands.

“Yeah, I’ll hold on. Always.”

Kat laughed, then curved her spine to kiss him upside down, gentle with the split on his lips. “Don’t ever let go,” she whispered.

“Never.”

And he wouldn’t. Because he had something to live for.

Her.

 

 

The second Wyatt saw Darrell at his door, he knew.

“You found him,” he said by way of greeting.

Darrell gave him a long, searching look, uncharacteristically serious. “Yeah,” he said with a sigh. “We did. I’m sorry, man.”

Wyatt clutched at the doorknob a little tighter. Grief welled in him, but also a sense of relief. He and his parents could finally have closure. It might not have come the way they hoped, but it was still something, after all this uncertainty.

Kat slipped up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist. He leaned into her, taking comfort from her touch. It had been a few weeks since the fight with McCready, and he was still recovering from his injuries. But Kat had been a rock through it all. As promised, she hadn’t left his side.

“Thank you,” Wyatt told Darrell. “Want to come in?”

Darrell’s gaze flickered between Kat and Wyatt. “You sure?”

In answer, Wyatt stepped back, taking Kat with him. Darrell came into the apartment, looking around. Wyatt had no doubt his cop’s gaze noticed the feminine things scattered throughout the living room. There was even more of Kat in the bedroom, where she slept wrapped in his arms every night.

The three of them sat around the kitchen table after Kat made them all coffee.

Darrell hesitated for a moment, then reached into his pocket to pull out a sealed plastic baggy. He slid it across the table. Wyatt didn’t touch the bag. He knew what was in it—his brother’s dog tags.

He exhaled an unsteady breath. “Thank you,” he said again. “When can we give him a proper burial?”

Darrell had been overseeing the excavation of the graveyard all this time. They were having trouble figuring out which remains were meant to be there and which weren’t. Darrell had previously confided in Wyatt during one of his many visits that he didn’t believe they’d ever be completely sure, given the state of most of the bodies.

He looked tired, worn. Wyatt wondered whether his old friend had been working overtime for his sake. If so, he hoped finding proof of Dean’s death would allow Darrell to step back for a while.

“Soon,” Darrell said. “I’ll let you know. I assume you’ll tell your parents?”

“Yeah,” Wyatt replied. He hadn’t told them yet about the mass graveyard. He didn’t want to grieve them unnecessarily, not until there’d been proof. But he couldn’t put it off any longer.

Darrell cleared his throat. “So, have you two made any decisions about what you’ll do now?” he asked in a clear bid to change the subject.

“Why?” Wyatt asked. “You angling to get me as a partner again?”

Darrell attempted to hide his smile. “Nah, you abandoned me once. I’m not making that mistake again.”

They fell silent, a sombre mood over the apartment. Teasing banter somehow didn’t seem right with his brother’s dog tags on the table in front of him. But Wyatt had already grieved for his brother. The sadness within him wasn’t new, it was a whole year’s worth.

Darrell shifted, distracting him. “Would you come back?”

Wyatt considered it. “Maybe. I haven’t really thought about it yet, but maybe.”

“Jokes aside, I’d have you back in a heartbeat. You know that, right?”

Wyatt grinned. “Yeah.”

Darrell turned to Kat. “What about you? Any big plans?”

“I think I want to set up some kind of support group, for all of us who were under McCready’s thumb. Help us transition back into the real world together. It’ll take a while.”

Wyatt gripped her hand, squeezing it to offer her support. “I think even the fighters will have trouble. All of them had their reasons for being there, and I’m sure they aren’t pleased their source of income is gone, despite everything else.”

“That sounds like a worthy goal.”

Wyatt did, too. More and more each day, his pride in Kat grew. Her courage humbled him, her love uplifted him. He thought he could spend the rest of his life falling in love with her.

Darrell left soon after. Wyatt and Kat got in the car and headed to his parent’s house to break the bad news. They were devastated, of course, having held out far more hope than Wyatt ever could. But they were pleased to meet Kat, and know their family, which had just lost a member, was gaining one, too.

A few months after the funeral, Wyatt and Kat were lying entwined together on a steamy summer’s evening.

Wyatt pulled her close to his chest. “You know how I said I wouldn’t be with you until you could say no?” he asked.

She shifted, and her mouth curved into a smile against his chest. “Yes. And I think I’ve said yes enough times by now.”

Wyatt chuckled. “Yes, but I have another question for you.” He tried to make the words casual, but something of what he felt must have leaked through, because she stilled in his arms. Kat levered herself up onto her elbow to stare at him, waiting.

Wyatt licked his lips, oddly nervous.

“What’s your question?” she prompted, nudging him with a smile.

The air around them grew thick. Wyatt exhaled heavily. “Will you marry me?” he asked, his voice strong and sure.

Kat’s face broke out in a grin. “Yes! Yesyesyes.”

She threw herself on him, kissing and kissing him. Wyatt felt lighter than he had in a long time.

He loved her, and he knew he’d keep loving her for as long as he lived. His heart belonged to her, fully and completely.

And he would spend the rest of his life saying yes to her.

 

 

 

 

 

Wounded Heroes. Action Movies. Happily Ever Afters.

 

These are a few of Aislinn’s favourite things, and you’ll find all of the above in her writing. Whether it’s the Soldiering On series – about wounded military veterans starting a security company together and finding love along the way – or her upcoming series about underground fighters.

 

If she’s not reading romance novels or watching action movies, you’ll find Aislinn writing like mad to get the next book out. She also loves to travel to new places around the world, forever in search of the perfect cottage in the forest that she hopes to one day call home.

 

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