Forty-five minutes later, I’m dressed in black jeans and a black shirt, with my lace-up boots and I still haven’t colored my roots. I grab my purse and tote and place my guns inside, and this time the semi-automatic is not in the case. I head downstairs and to my surprise the house is full. Jacob, Kara, Blake, and Smith are present. “I brought donuts,” Smith says as I join them all at the island.
“And I,” Kara says, “brought you some hair color tools.” She indicates a bag on the bar. “That has a couple color kits, several root-only kits, and hair mascara that you can use to cover up now.”
“Thank you very much,” I say. “But that isn’t why all of you are here. What’s going on?”
“We were impatient to work this new angle on Ju-Ju,” Blake says. “And we wanted Jacob involved.”
“What new angle?” I ask.
“We’re working on where to find Ju-Ju’s photos,” Kara says.
“We were already doing that,” I say.
Blake chimes in from where he sits on the other side of the table, with a computer in front of him. “I’m working through a history of his father, and people who knew him. So you know, there is no police record at all, but he had two co-workers over five years that mysteriously died at a young age.”
“How?” I ask.
“Insulin overdose for one,” Kara says. “Stroke for the other. Both under thirty.”
Jacob grimaces. “We need a way to get this asshole arrested and off the streets.”
“They have to be on his person,” Smith says.
“I thought that too,” I say, “But right now, processing where we have gone wrong, I go back to this rich man who inherited that money from the father that probably killed his mother. Now he’s a drug dealer which perhaps means he feels like he’s better than his father.”
“Better?” Smith asks. “By dealing drugs?”
“Yes,” I say. “Because he can do something that is in the cops’ faces and not get caught killing.”
“Fuck,” Smith breathes out. “That’s some fucked up shit.”
“It hits the right nail on the head in my mind,” Kara says, eying me. “In light of all we know, do you still think he’s working with someone else?”
“Yes. I do. He’s too clean, too hard to catch, to not have back-up. Maybe, just maybe, it’s someone who helped his father.”
“Rick Savage took a team into Terrance’s house last night while he was off banging some chick,” Blake says. “He found nothing there and then went on to the club at six this morning, and just finished up. Nothing. They checked everything, but they also uploaded databases to me. I’m going to go in and sweep the records this morning.”
“Asher is coming back tonight,” I say. “We’re going to go to the club tomorrow and bait Terrance with my address. If Ju-Ju shows up at my place, we know it’s Terrance, but I’m doubtful now. I really think if he has a partner, that partner is more sophisticated than Terrance.”
“Maybe he’s watching me be you, and we just don’t see him,” Kara says.
“Let’s get to the office,” Blake says, shutting his computer. “We need to have the work we did yesterday in front of us.”
We all pack up and I grab the hair mascara on the way out. Fifteen minutes later, I’m in the conference room, working alongside the Walker clan. I have a moment, where I sit at the table, listening to them argue in the best of ways—to get to a solution, and I feel like I belong. This is where I’m supposed to be. Fate, Asher has said. It is fate, and just as these amazing people are going to help me stop Devin from hurting anyone else, in my heart I believe I’m here to stop Ju-Ju from killing again. Why else would I walk into that bar, meet Asher, and attract the attention of the very killer he was hunting?
I didn’t come here to die. I came here to make sure no one else does.
The sun is down and the storage facility is closed for the day. Luke and I sit in the SUV we rented in the parking lot across from the storage facility with him in the driver’s seat, and a laptop in my lap, the security camera feed live on the screen. Adam is dressed like a damn homeless person, his normally wild dark curls, wilder than usual, his clothes ratty. The backpack on his shoulder is filled with junk and just as ratty.
We have the cameras set up for our viewing and no one else’s, not that it would matter. The place has a shoddy system and crap employees. Adam climbs the fence, despite the hack that gave us the code to enter, trying to look like a dude searching for a place to sleep. He heads toward the building that is sealed by a locking door, and tries to open it, failing by design. That’s our plan. He moves to the next building and continues on four times. He finally reaches the building that is our target, which is unlocked thanks to my tech skills, and pauses to scratch his ass. “Did he really just scratch his damn ass?” Luke says. “And we trust this man with our lives?”
I chuckle. “If your ass itches, man, you gotta scratch it. What’s wrong with you?”
We laugh, but there is tension in the air as we watch Adam slide open the door and it shuts behind him. I pull up the view inside the unit, keeping the exterior view open in a smaller window. Adam turns on his flashlight and then walks down the hallway. He unlocks the storage unit and we wait. And wait. “Fuck, anytime,” I say. “We should have made him wear a microphone.”
“That’s dangerous if he gets cornered,” Luke says. “Give him another three minutes.” He hits the timer on his watch.
At two minutes exactly, Adam exits and shuts the door, and then does this staggering, fucked up walk here and there that takes forever. “If I didn’t know better,” Luke murmurs. “I’d believe he was really drunk.”
Adam reaches the fence and falls three times before he gets over this time. Finally, finally, he starts walking, continuing to stumble here and there until he goes into the McDonalds, three blocks away where a matching backpack is waiting on him, as well as a phone. Luke thrums his fingers on the steering wheel while we wait. My phone rings and I answer on speaker. “I have the package and it is intact. Call me when you get it.”
“Copy that,” I say, and Luke has already started the SUV.
We make the drive to McDonald’s and I shut my laptop, slip the empty leather briefcase we bought at Walmart over my shoulder, and get out of the car. I walk inside the restaurant as Adam walks out and neither of us look at each other. I scan the restaurant, spot a line, and act disgusted, before walking to the bathroom. I shut the door, lock it, and quickly pull open the cabinet under the sink where the backpack waits. I pull the paperwork out of the backpack and stick it in my briefcase and then toss the backpack back under the sink.
I exit the restaurant and give the line another grimace before walking back to the SUV. I climb inside. “I have it,” I say, and Luke places us in reverse and backs up.
I dial Adam. “Package on board.”
“I’m in my car. I got your ass.”
We disconnect. “He’s got our rear,” I announce.
Luke nods and I dial Blake. “Package on board. Prepare to receive it.”
“I’m ready,” he says. “And I’ve already wiped any record of Adam being at the unit clean.”
I hang up and pull out a small camera, snapping rapid-shot photos of the documents as back-up. That’s the mistake Sierra made. You never keep one copy of the only evidence you have, especially when that evidence can be used as protection. By the time Luke makes the turn toward the private landing strip we’re flying out of, I’ve connected the camera to my laptop and uploaded what I have to Blake. He calls me sixty seconds later. “Got it. All secure. Downloading, and records will be secured, and transitions wiped. We’ll wait on you with Sierra at your place.”
He hangs up and Luke and I park, leaving the rental for Adam to handle. The plane is flown by a pilot we employ and know well, who is waiting at the open door. We hurry up the ramp and we’re inside, secure and taxiing in ten minutes flat. Luke and I sit down at a booth in the back of the jet, and I set the file on the table. We both start reading, studying, and holy shit, Sierra is right. The corruption runs deep and wide. I glance at Luke. “I can’t connect Sierra to this. She can’t be the one who takes these people down.”
“None of us can,” Luke says. “If we go at this directly, we all die.”
We both sit there a minute and then suddenly turn to each other, slow smiles curving our mouths. Both of us know what the other is thinking. There are ten ways to skin a snake and we’re going to use all ten.
My relief that Asher and Luke have my files, is short-lived when Blake and Kara seem to grow more and more tense as they read through them. By eight, Jacob leads me out of the offices and takes me to shoot, which I suspect is to give Kara and Blake space to have a meltdown over the trouble I’ve got them into. Jacob is quiet too, but that isn’t new. That’s why they chose him to take me. He’s silent. He’s impenetrable.
We’re an hour into my practice when he gets a text. “Kara and Blake want us to meet them at your place. They’ll stay with you until Asher gets back.”
“Is anything wrong?”
“Nothing I’ve been told,” Jacob says.
I stare at him. “Are you lying?”
“No.” He holds up his fingers. “Scout’s honor and I really was a Scout.”
“Then you’d better be acting like a Scout.”
“I am,” he assures me. “Asher and Luke will be here. They’re safe. They’ve confirmed that they are on the plane and the pilot has called in.”
“Okay.” But it doesn’t feel okay.
A few minutes later, we exit to the street, and I don’t think I’d know if we were being followed. I know nothing but the knot in my belly. The walk is short and we enter the apartment, to have Blake meet us at the door. “We ordered pizza,” he says, motioning Jacob to the hallway.
I grimace at the secrets and march to the kitchen table where Kara is sitting, setting my tote down on a seat. “What is going on?”
“Nothing yet,” she says. “We’re just processing.”
“Right. Trying to figure out how to get me the hell out of your life. I get it. Send me to a safe house. I’ll go right now.”
“We are not sending you away,” she says. “Not now or ever.”
Blake re-enters the apartment. “Jacob is bringing Julie over to wait with us for Asher and Luke.” He stops at the table.
“Send me to a safe house,” I say.
“I told you,” he says. “We are your safe house.”
“I can sense the change in all of you,” I say.
“We’re focused on keeping everyone alive,” Blake says. “And we will keep everyone alive.”
Right.
Alive.
Focus they need because I’m here.
I grab my tote and move to the living room to sit down, dreading the moment Asher walks in the door to tell me whatever they are not, as surely as I hunger for that moment to be now. I really need it to be now.
Thirty minutes later, Julie arrives and Jacob leaves. She sits down next to me, gorgeous and blonde, and I have a flashback of me as a blonde. But I don’t want to be blonde. I just want to be alive and with Asher. “How are you?” she asks.
“Worried. Nervous. I want them to be here already.”
“It gets easier, I promise.”
“Maybe, but this time is all about the hell I’m bringing to your family.”
“You didn’t do this. A monster did this.”
“The Beast,” I say. “That’s what I call him.”
“I’ll help you divorce him.”
“I can’t divorce him. He’ll kill me.”
“Not from jail.”
“His reach is wide,” I remind her. “I keep saying that. No one listens. Or—maybe they do now. They know. I see it in everyone’s faces.”
“Our men will make it non-existent. One day, you’ll have the faith in them that I do.”
I glance at her watch. “Midnight. Shouldn’t they be here by now?”
As if answering my question, the door opens. Julie and I are on our feet as Asher walks in the door, followed by Luke. I forget about bad news. I’m across the room, my arms around Asher in ten seconds flat, and Julie is right there with me, with Luke. “Asher, I—”
His hands are in my hair and he is kissing me before I ever get the rest of my sentence out. I kiss him right back, molding my hands to his back, breathing him in, and when he pulls back, I say, “I was so worried.”
“Yeah?” he asks.
“Yes. So much.”
His eyes warm. “I’ve never had anyone worry about me. I think I like it.”
“I worry about you all the damn time,” Luke assures him, his arm around Julie.
Asher waves him off. “Fuck you, Luke.”
Luke laughs. “I love you too, man.”
Asher drags me under his arm and our sides meld together. “Let’s talk to Blake and Kara, and then hit the bed. I’m exhausted.”
I have a million questions for him, but I just want to get him alone. Together we walk to the table and collectively all of us gather there. “Why don’t we talk alone,” Blake says, his eyes meeting mine.
“Sierra can handle this,” Asher replies.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I tried to warn you all.”
“Don’t be sorry,” Asher says.
“No,” Luke says. “Don’t be sorry. We have a plan.”
“We cut the legs off the spider,” Asher says. “Devin being the spider.”
“The legs being his loyal subjects,” Blake says.
“Exactly.” Asher says. “We hit each person involved with Devin with a criminal scandal, and eventually we connect Devin to one of them.”
“But we don’t go slow,” Luke say. “We make sure Devin will get nervous. We make sure he acts guilty and we document it, so when it turns on him, he can’t run.”
“We don’t use the real crimes to take these people down,” Asher says. “Which means, we all mobilize our closest allies. We divide up the bad guys, and formulate a plan for each.”
“Asher and I have already put our SEAL team on standby,” Luke says. “We all have insiders.”
Blake rubs his hands together. “Damn, I love my job. I’m up on this in a big way. I can make a lot of things happen. Securities fraud or how about child pornography? That’s the kind of fun you wish on these kinds of assholes.”
“He’ll still come for me,” I warn.
“He’ll be in jail,” Luke says, “and everyone in his resource pool will be dead in the water.”
“And everyone who tries to help him will go down, too,” Blake says. “Until he’s the plague no one wants to touch. And no one wants to touch a rich dude who looks at naked pictures of kids. Hell. When I dig in, it might even be true. He’s the kind of dude you see doing that shit.”
I want to believe them, but I can feel the panic rising in me. They’re all in. They’re all wonderful. Too wonderful to die. Asher must sense what I feel, because he says, “Go home, everyone.”
“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Luke says, eyeing Asher and giving him a salute.
Julie walks to me and hugs me. “They’re good. They’ll make this go away.” She doesn’t wait for a reply. She hurries away with Luke.
Kara rounds the table and hugs me. “We got this and you,” she says by my ear.
She moves away, and Asher kisses me. “I’ll lock up,” he says, releasing me and walking to the door. I watch him, the graceful, yet lethal way he moves, but there is exhaustion in his face, worry, strain. The minute he’s back in front of me, he laces his fingers with mine. “Come,” he orders, and in silence we walk up the stairs, every part of me aware of this man. Every part of me is falling in love with this man.
The minute we are in the bedroom, I turn to him. I step in front of him, hands on his chest. “I told you, you would regret me—us.”
“The only thing I regret, sweetheart, is that he’s still alive.”
“Asher, damn it, don’t be a hero. Talk to me. I sensed how stressed everyone was when they saw those files.”
“You did good, Sierra. You painted a picture that might seem daunting at first, but in the end, it becomes a map for their destruction, not ours.” He links our fingers again. “I need a shower. Come take it with me.” I don’t even think about saying no. Maybe I should leave. Maybe I should let go of him, but I’m selfish. I don’t want to leave him. I don’t want to let go.
And so, I let him lead me into the bathroom and I savor every moment of us both undressing. Those gorgeous tattoos of his shift with every flex of his muscle. He turns on the shower, and we step beneath with him backing me into the corner, his hand gently stroking a lock of hair from my face. “Devin Marks will die before I will ever let him hurt you again.”
The passion, the fierce emotion in his voice, steals my breath, but I push past it, I focus on him. “How do I make sure he can’t hurt you, though, Asher?”
“That’s easy, sweetheart. You belong with me. You stay with me.”
His mouth closes down on mine, his kiss, both wicked and sweet, demanding and somehow a question. I don’t know what that question is. I only know that anything with Asher is a yes for me. And so, with every stroke of my tongue, every touch of my hand, I tell him yes. He presses inside me as he holds me up with his hands on my backside, and I am certain in these intense moments in this shower that he’s telling me he’s holding me. He’s not letting me go. Well, I’m not letting him go either, and much later, as I lay next to Asher, my head on his chest, his heart thrumming beneath my ear, I know that this man will fight and even die for me.
And I silently vow that I will kill Devin Marks before I let him take Asher from me.