When he guards, p.17
When He Guards, page 17
“Y-you know.”
Did he look like he freaking knew? If he knew, why in the hell would he be demanding a name?
“You didn’t kill him.” A low rasp. “Had to know…no body. No body… He’s been waiting. Getting stronger…he’s coming for you.”
Cass hauled Levi to his feet. Held the bastard in front of him. No body? Shit. “You’re damn well not talking about my uncle. Winston Striker is dead. I am not going to believe that bullshit—”
Thunder. No, a gunshot blast. He heard it and felt it at the same instant because pain tore across the edge of his right shoulder. Even as his shoulder burned with pain, Cass automatically let go of Levi. The bastard staggered back even as Cass dove for cover.
Another gunshot blast.
A hit, right in Levi’s chest. Because he’d just been standing there, with a dumb smile on his face. But that smile vanished when the bullet hit him.
And all hell broke loose.
Chapter Sixteen
“Take your sweet ass inside. I’m dealing with him. Then I’m fucking you.”
Seriously. What in the ever-loving-hell?
Agnes paced inside the house. She’d been taken out of the action, sent away, and just where did Cass get off thinking he could toss around arrogant asshole statements like…
Then I’m fucking you.
Her heart pounded. Her palms were a little sweaty. And maybe her breath panted out too much.
She paced faster. She’d grabbed her gun as soon as she’d gotten inside, and now the gun was tucked at the base of her back as she paced. Damn the man.
He’d defeated five men in a fight like it was nothing. Granted, he’d originally been up against six guys, but she’d taken care of number six for him, and had the man even thanked her? Recognized her as the amazing partner that she was to him? Oh, no.
He’d just said he was going to fuck her.
And he’d sent her away.
Yes, yes, the MC had rules. Understood. He was the alpha. They might as well be a pack of wild wolves, but he did not get to go around killing—
Boom.
She heard the shot. Was pretty sure that it stopped her heart. For an instant, Agnes completely froze, then she lunged for the door of the house.
Boom.
Another shot. Fear exploded within her. She grabbed for the doorknob with her left hand even as her right yanked out her gun. She rushed outside as fast as her legs would carry her while fear had her heart ready to burst out of her chest.
Terror clawed at her. So did rage. Because if those booming shots had been fired at Cass, if she found him dead…
A body slumped in the dirt. Not moving. Facedown. The body was sprawled in a field about twenty feet from the house. Twenty feet, thirty?
Motorcycle engines roared. The big bikes were spinning and flying from the graveled drive. One, after the other, after the other, and the man in the field wasn’t moving. She raced toward him, and it dawned on her that she was staring at blond hair.
Blond. Not the darkness of Cass’s hair. That wasn’t Cass on the ground.
But she’d already dropped to her knees beside the fallen figure. She had to put her gun down so that she could flip over the body, and when she did…
So much blood.
Not just on his throat where she’d cut him. Cut him with the knife that he had intended to use on Cass. But on his stomach. His chest. Blood trickled from his mouth, and his eyes were closed. She stared at him, horrified.
Then training and instinct took over. Her hands flew over his wounds. Maybe she could stop the blood flow.
He gasped. His eyes flew open.
He stared straight at her.
She should say something comforting. Tell him that he was going to be all right. Let him know that everything was going to be all right.
“You…you should have died that night,” he rasped.
“What?” All thoughts of saying anything comforting fled.
He stared at her and a smile tilted his lips. His bloody lips. Blood covered his teeth, too.
The man is hurt. He’s confused. You’re an FBI agent. Help him. Comfort him. “Y-you mean when Judas attacked me. When the guy came for me in Atlanta.” That must be what Levi meant. “Cass told you about that?” Her gaze dropped back to his injuries. The blood that covered his chest flowed the heaviest and there was a hole in his shirt, near his heart. A big, torn, blood-soaked hole.
“I mean…in Texas.”
Ice covered her.
Motorcycles were growling. Snarling. Most seemed to have left, but one’s roaring engine grew louder and louder. She should look toward that loud growling. It seemed to be coming straight toward her. But she couldn’t look away from the man on the ground.
“Thought you’d die…with the boyfriend.”
Her heart stopped. Then she was lunging forward. Grabbing his right arm and yanking it up so that she could see if he had that damn two-headed cobra tattoo leading toward his wrist.
Not there.
She checked the other arm, moving blindly, even though she knew the tattoo of that long ago attacker had been on his right arm, not the left. Along his right inner wrist.
But when she shoved up the left arm…
A two-headed cobra. Fangs bared. Scaled body twisting. Not the same tattoo that she’d seen so long ago on the man who’d wrecked her world. This one was different. It circled Levi’s wrist, coiled, then came back with those fangs wide open.
The roaring of the motorcycle filled her ears, and it drowned out the scream of fury that burst from her lips.
“You’re one of them!” Agnes cried out. “You know what happened! You know—”
He was still smiling, but his eyes had sagged closed.
No, this could not happen. “You’re not dying, you bastard! You don’t get away that easily!”
Hard arms curled around her and yanked Agnes away from the bloody man and to her feet.
“No!” She struggled blindly, wildly. Kicking back. Clawing at the hands and arms that held her. Elbowing the jerk who’d grabbed her. Her gun was still on the ground. “No!”
But he lifted her up like her struggles didn’t matter, and she damn well knew that they did. She wasn’t being gentle. She was fighting like a tiger, punching, twisting, going for maximum pain, and she was not going to stop.
“Agnes!”
Cass dropped her onto the seat of the motorcycle. Because he’d been the jerk to grab her from behind. Like she hadn’t recognized his touch.
She immediately tried to spring up.
“The hell no,” Cass blasted at her. “A shooter is out there! Dammit, why didn’t you stay in the house?”
Because Cass might have needed her. Because Cass might have been shot. But she didn’t say that. Instead, she lunged up again.
He slammed her right back down. Then he jumped in front of her on the motorcycle. “Hold on.”
Screw that. She had to get back to the man on the ground. “He knows!”
“He’s dead! Levi is dead!”
No, Levi wasn’t dead. He’d been talking to her, taunting her. He’d been there, the night her world had upended.
“Levi is dead!” Cass repeated. And, before she could jump off the bike again, something slapped around her wrist.
What in the world?
Cold. Metal.
A handcuff?
“How in the hell is this supposed to work?” Agnes fumed.
Cass locked the cuff on his left wrist. “Either we stay together, or we fall off the fucking bike.”
Fall off and—what? Crash? Die? “You can’t drive like this! You don’t have full range of motion. You can’t—”
He could. He did. Sure, her arm stretched, but she was already holding her arms around him pretty tightly anyway because the man had taken off. He hurtled them away from the house and—not toward the road—but through some twisting, tangling trees to the far left even as her head whipped back so that she could stare at Levi.
Levi…still on the ground. With blood around him. With her gun dropped beside him.
Levi…
His head turned. She was sure of it. Was he gazing after her? It sure as hell seemed like he was. “You bastard!” Agnes shouted.
“Yeah, I fucking am,” Cass snapped back at her. “But I’m not leaving you behind to get shot, so stop fighting me, hold on, and keep your eyes out for the shooter.”
The shooter?
Now she tensed. The motorcycle vibrated between her legs. One of her arms curled around his waist, the other twisted with the cuff and… “You didn’t shoot him?”
Because, well, after she’d found the wounded man on the ground, she’d thought…
“No, I didn’t. We’re under attack, and I’m getting you the hell away.”
And he did. Branches whipped at them. The motorcycle snarled like a demon coming out of hell, and Agnes and Cass left a bleeding man behind them.
A bleeding man—a dead man? The man who knew about her past. The man who could potentially have given her answers.
And he was either dead…or dying.
Dammit.
“I like the jewelry,” Javion praised as he waved a hand toward her. “It’s new, right?”
Oh, fun. A comedian when rage had her shaking behind Cass.
Cass had just braked near Javion’s motorcycle. They were at some rundown bar—shocking, she knew—but Cass seemed to have some sort of innate talent for locating hole-in-the-wall places.
They were still in Texas. She’d figured that out thanks to some road signs that she’d finally seen, once they’d gotten out of the woods with the branches that had slapped at her. They had only driven for about an hour. At least, that’s what she guessed. They’d driven hard and fast and potentially left a dead body behind. Because…why not? That seemed to be the way they rolled these days.
Her body ached. Her stomach had twisted into about a million knots. And…worst of all, fury still fueled her. She’d been moments away from getting answers. And now…
The dead can’t give me answers. But if Cass had just let her stay a few moments longer, she could have forced Levi to tell her the truth.
“Is there a particular reason why the pretty lady is cuffed to you?” Javion asked Cass.
Cass grunted. Typical. The man’s conversational skills were killer.
He’s a killer.
She truly had thought that he’d been the one to shoot Levi. Before going into the ranch house, she’d tried to convince the man to hold back, to be a hero…
But he’d basically laughed in her face after those particular words.
“She’s cuffed so she won’t run. The woman didn’t want to get on the bike. Had to take the choice out of her hands.”
“The woman,” she snapped right back, “didn’t want to leave an injured man behind. And, hey, important little FYI tidbit, my gun is back there next to his body.”
Javion whistled. “That could be a problem.”
Tell her something she didn’t know.
“Our guys are still searching for the shooter,” Javion said as he rocked back on his heels and stood beside his motorcycle. “They’ll report back when they know something. Until then, this place should be good.”
This was a good place? Truly? She squinted at it. The windows were boarded up. A big NO TRESPASSING sign hung near the double doors that had to be the entrance to the place. At first, she’d thought it was a rundown bar, but now, Agnes realized it appeared that the building had been closed down for a very long time. Not just rundown. More like shut down.
“Your security should still be in place from last time,” Javion continued.
“Ahem.” She cleared her throat. With her non-cuffed hand, Agnes tapped on Cass’s shoulder. “Not to be a pessimist, but we’ve been found by your enemies at our last two safe spots. The no-tell motel?” In case he’d somehow forgotten that amazing experience. “And your ranch house. What’s to stop us from getting attacked here, too?” And, quite clearly, the man had a large target on his back.
That target is why two different people have tried to stab him in said back.
“I believe Levi was feeding our locations to my enemy.” A low, furious rumble. “Dead men can’t feed shit to anyone.”
“Uh, no, no, they can’t feed, ah, shit to people.” Who is your enemy?
“I scouted around before you arrived.” Javion’s hands rested on his hips. “It’s good.”
Was it? Not like she was ready to jump onto the “good” reassurance so quickly. At this point, she didn’t think any place was good where they were concerned.
“Go help the others with the search,” Cass ordered. “I’ve got her.”
Yes, he did. He had her cuffed to him.
“If you find the shooter,” Cass added when Javion turned to mount his motorcycle, “keep him alive.”
She brightened. Awesome, he was not killing—
“Keep him alive long enough for me to beat the bastard to death,” Cass finished.
And she stopped brightening.
“Message received,” Javion replied. He spun his bike around and roared out.
As for Cass…“Keep holding on,” he told her. And he drove right for the big, double doors that led to the old bar. She did keep holding on because it wasn’t like she had much choice. When they got right up to those doors, Agnes realized a keypad was attached to the door frame. He leaned forward, punched in the code, and the doors swung open with a click.
Then the man just drove his motorcycle inside.
The doors closed.
And…
Lights flashed on. One after the other after the other. And, yes, it was a bar. But not some rundown place. Gleaming, polished wood on the high bar countertop. Four huge pool tables. About fifteen to twenty tables scattered around the place, all with chairs that had been flipped over and placed on top of them.
A jukebox waited in the corner. Old-school. With soft lights and fat buttons in the front.
She turned slowly. Not a full turn, not like she could do that with the cuffs, but as much of a turn as she could make. Her gaze took in everything she saw, including the narrow hallway to the side and the line of monitors that filled the right wall.
Cass strode toward the bar—which meant she had to stride there with him since they were still connected. With his free hand, he reached behind the bar and pulled out what looked like a remote. After clicking a button, the monitors turned on, and she saw images of the bar’s exterior. The road out front. What she suspected were the woods out back. “Ah, guessing this is…your gang’s hideout, huh?” So much for the Night Strikers just being primarily an East Coast crew.
He put down the remote, turned his head, and locked those glittering, intent eyes on her. “We have a problem.”
“We sure as hell do.” Her chin jutted up. “That bastard you left bleeding out had answers! Levi had one of the tattoos!” Anger and fear and frustration rolled within. She jerked on the cuff that still held them together. The cuff was loose enough on her wrist that she could twist her hand around, but she could not get out. “Did you let me question him? No, you cuffed me and then basically kidnapped me! That crap is not cool! It’s not what partners do to each other.”
He was…
Moving. Storming away. Dammit, she had to storm, too. “We’re connected!” Agnes snapped at him. “At least undo the stupid cuff!”
He whirled toward her. They were right next to one of the pool tables. “That stupid cuff kept you alive.”
She glared.
So did he.
“Bullets were flying, Agnes,” he gritted out. “And I get that you thought I was the heartless monster who did the shooting, but in this instance—”
“You’re the one who keeps saying that you’re the monster. I’ve never said—”
“The shooter was still out there. He nicked me. The first bullet was supposed to be for me.”
Her eyes widened. Then her stare was flying all over him and— “Blood! Cass!” She tried to reach for his shoulder. How in the hell had she missed that?
“Nothing. Barely a scratch. The second bullet landed in Levi. Dead in his chest. I was already dodging for cover when the second one flew, but that bastard didn’t get down. He stood there, smiling, like the cavalry had come, and the bullet took him out. One look, and I knew there was no way an ambulance would get to him in time, not given where we were.”
In the middle of nowhere? “But we didn’t even try to save him!”
“He tried to kill me. He would have killed you if you hadn’t taken the knife from him. Given that, are you so sure he needed saving?”
A brutal statement. Chill bumps rose on her arms. “He had the tattoo,” she whispered. “You must have known. You had to know that he was part of the Twins, and you didn’t say a word to me. I am so sick of being kept in the dark!”
His jaw hardened.
“You’re holding back on me,” she accused. “Dammit. We are partners! We are—”
“You are a Fed working your own agenda. You want vengeance, and I swear, I’ll make sure you get it. I will cut off both cobra heads. You can count on that.” His nostrils flared. “And I’m holding back because, no, I don’t trust you.”
She backed up. As much as she could. The cuff bit into her wrist. “That hurts.” It actually did. And she wasn’t talking about the sting of the cuff as it cut into her skin. She was talking about the lancing pain his words had just delivered.
“Does it?” Doubting. “Does it really hurt that I don’t trust you?”
Yes, it really does freaking hurt.
“Because when I look at you, I see a woman who was willing to use me to get her vengeance. You’re in love with a dead man.”
If she could have, Agnes would have retreated even more. “Stop.” Because he was hurting her. How could he not see that? And hadn’t he said that he wouldn’t hurt her? Hadn’t he made that promise?
“You can’t crawl in the ground with him.” Hard. No, brutal. “I’m not going to fucking let you do that. So, hell, no, I was not going to let you stay out in the freaking open with Levi. Not while the shooter was still there.”
“He had answers!” Her words were as ragged—as jagged—as she felt. “He said I should have died that night! Levi wasn’t talking about recently—he was talking about that terrible night in Austin. He said I should have died with my boyfriend. He was not the one who stabbed me, the tattoo was all wrong. But he was either there or…or maybe he was the one on the phone. He knew what happened. He knew who I was. He remembered me, he—”
