When he guards, p.26
When He Guards, page 26
The boom blasted through the growing darkness. The bullet also blasted a hole right in Winston’s upper arm. Winston’s gun fell from his nerveless fingers.
“Bas—” Winston began.
Cass fired another shot at him. This time, his left leg.
Winston howled.
Then Cass shot Winston’s left arm. Just so things would match up. And so your ass will not be able to fight back. Bullets in both arms and both legs.
“You’re not gonna be able to run away,” Cass told him. “You’re gonna die right here with everyone else. Was that in your plans, you dick?”
Horror filled Winston’s eyes. Horror and what could very well have been fear.
“You always did have one hell of a survival instinct, Uncle Winston.” Cass was betting on that survival instinct to kick in.
He heard Agnes’s feet rushing away. He knew she was going to tell the others to get out of the warehouse. That she was going to save her brothers. She’d better get that sweet ass of hers outside, too.
Cass sucked in a breath. “Tell me how to disarm it. Tell me where it is. Tell me—”
“We’ve got less than two minutes!” Winston screamed at him. “Get me the hell out of here! There is no stopping it! There is no disarming. It’s in the office on the second floor, hidden in the desk there. Get me the hell out of here! We have to go!”
Cass leaned over him. He snatched up the fallen gun. “I’m getting everyone else out.”
Winston clawed at his arm. “No, no, you’re not a hero. Don’t save them! You’re just like me, you’re just like— ”
Cass broke free, leaving him bleeding and screaming.
“You’re just like me!” Winston yelled.
“The hell I am.” He grabbed for the door.
And nearly ran straight into Gray.
“What’s happening?” Gray demanded.
“Bomb inside, second floor office, in the desk. We have to get everyone out.” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “Someone will need to carry his ass away, but that’s the leader of the Twins and he has—"
Screams erupted from inside. Cass stopped talking. He ran in. Rushed through the hallway.
“Bomb! We have to get out! There’s a bomb!”
Agnes’s yell, rising above the others. The Feds were scrambling. The members of Bayne and Winston’s crew were fighting to get to the exits. Utter hell reigned.
Agnes rushed to her brothers. She and Ryan yanked Nash to his feet. Ryan slung Nash over his shoulder and hauled ass. Everyone was scrambling. Everyone was running for the doors.
But Agnes…she turned and ran back to Cass. What. The. Hell?
Her hand reached out to him. “Let’s go, Cass!”
His gaze flew around. Then up. The second floor. The office up there. In the desk. “Winston said the bomb is up there. Maybe I can disarm it—”
“How the hell are you gonna do that? You’re not the bomb squad!” She launched at him. Grabbed him. “It’s a trap. You can’t disarm it. Let’s get the hell out of here. The bomb squad can come in. They can disarm it. We are getting out of here, now. You made my brother promise I’d walk away, remember? Well, here’s my promise. We’re walking away, together, right now, and—Cass!”
Screw walking. He was running with her. Because she was right. It probably was a trap. Winston might not have given them two full minutes. It would be just like the twisted fucker to say they had more time than they actually did.
He tossed Agnes over his shoulder. He was rushing out, with the Feds in front of him. Everyone was scattering. Almost out. They were all almost—
And then he heard the eruption. Heard it. Felt it. Even glanced over his shoulder and up. He saw the rolling waves of flame coming out of the second floor office.
But he was at one of the open doors. He had almost made it to safety.
Screw almost. I am making it. He launched forward, holding onto Agnes, and even as the bomb detonated, he was still holding tightly to her.
He would always hold tightly to her.
We are both going to walk away, sweetheart…both going to walk away from this darkness and finally, into the light.
Chapter Twenty-Six
“Do you remember me?” FBI Agent Gray Stone stood in front of the prisoner. The man was secured in the hospital. By secured—he was cuffed. With guards on either side of him.
Winston Striker squinted up at him.
“Grayson Stone,” he said. Just in case he needed an introduction, but Gray suspected that the prisoner definitely remembered him.
Disgust twisted Winston’s face.
“You’re under arrest,” Gray informed him. He’d actually told the guy this before, but he had to make sure that Winston was actually aware of the words this time. So he rattled off the man’s rights. Made sure Winston knew he could get an attorney. The whole spiel.
“What in the hell am I being charged with?” Winston glared at him.
Oh? Had Winston missed that part? “The FBI has connected you to four bombings that occurred across the US within the last few years. There is also the drug running, the illegal weapons trade, and the murders. We have you and Bayne Hendrix on record confessing to those crimes.”
“Bayne…” A low growl.
“He’s dead.” Gray inclined his head as he delivered that bit of news. “Pretty sure he was dead before the blast. But, yeah, dead. Two other men in your crew were also killed.”
Winston’s eyes narrowed. “And Cass?”
“What do you think happened to him?”
Gruff, hoarse laughter. “I think that prick believed me when I said he had two minutes. I think he went to hell—and I think that bitch FBI agent went with him.”
Gray’s jaw locked. “There are lots of definitions when it comes to hell.”
“What? What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about hell.” Another nod. “You’re about to visit your own hell. With the charges that we have against you, with the evidence, with the recorded confession, you aren’t going to walk. You will be locked away for the rest of your life.”
More of that hoarse laughter. “Like I’m scared of prison.”
“People died in those bombs that you set across the US. Additionally, with that sick-ass killing game that you were playing, you murdered people in half a dozen states. States with the death penalty. You have more than cold prison bars to fear.” His head tilted to the side. “You’re not going to have any power in prison.”
“I have power everywhere.”
“So does Cass.” Low.
Some of the smug cockiness faded from Winston’s eyes. “He died.”
Gray didn’t speak.
“If he didn’t die in that blast, he will be dead. He can’t turn evidence over to the Feds and expect the Strikers and the other crews to just let him walk. You don’t walk away from the MCs!”
Actually, sometimes, you did.
You just had to know the right people.
People…like me.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Three months later…
* * *
Agnes Quinn stopped in front of the bar. It was a small place, in a tiny town in south Alabama. One nestled on the quiet shores of Mobile Bay. She could feel a light breeze blowing against her cheeks, and when she looked toward the old, massive oaks, she could see the Spanish moss swaying lightly.
Sunset had turned the sky a burnished gold. The bar was open, with a few locals inside. She shouldn’t be afraid to cross the threshold and walk in and yet…she was.
What if he’s changed? Changed his mind…changed his heart.
What if he doesn’t want me any longer?
Something that terrified her.
And yet, she hadn’t been able to stay away. Not even a day longer.
Her shoulders squared. She strode inside with her chin up and her heart racing. Agnes barely noticed the interior. Barely heard the soft, jazz music from the performer on the small stage. Her gaze was drawn to the wooden bar counter on the right and to the man who stood behind the bar.
Tall, with broad shoulders, his back was to her. His dark hair had been cut shorter, and when he turned slowly to talk to a customer at the counter, she saw his profile.
Clean shaven. Handsome.
Her lips pressed together.
No leather jacket. Just a faded, gray shirt. He nodded to the customer, and then his head angled a bit more. Shifted to the right.
His dark, dark eyes landed on her.
Longing. Need.
Her breath caught. Then she wasn’t just standing inside the doorway any longer. She was rushing across that bar.
He stood there, shaking his head, and then—then he just jumped right over the bar. He caught her in three steps. His hands wrapped tightly around her. “What are you doing here?”
“Coming to you.” He’d gotten a new life, courtesy of Gray. Gray and all his strings. No more badass MC leader. Now Cass was a bar owner in a small town. A quiet life. Peace.
And she missed him so much.
“You shouldn’t be here.”
There was no other place that she’d rather be. “What does a woman have to do,” she asked, as her hand rose to press against his cheek, “in order to be loved by you?”
His mouth crashed onto hers. Not softly. Not carefully. But with a wild, voracious hunger that she eagerly met because this was her Cass. Her partner. Her lover.
Hers.
He kissed her like he’d been starving, and she kissed him back the exact same way. As if she’d been desperate for him. As if every single day had ripped out her heart, and she’d been walking around empty on the inside because she did not have him.
I have him now. I will not let go.
But his mouth tore from hers. His eyes glittered as he looked down at her and then…
Then he was taking her hand. Marching her through the narrow hallways of the bar and out the back door. He threw open that door and rushed them into the night.
Surprise, surprise, a motorcycle waited not too far away.
You could take the biker out of the crew, but you could not take the bike from the man.
“I didn’t want you giving up anything for me, Agnes.”
Precious words. He stood with his hands fisted now because he’d let her go. She didn’t want his hands fisted. She wanted them on her. “Can we go for a ride?” She’d missed riding on the motorcycle with him. I missed him. Everything about him.
“You need to leave.”
“Is that what you really want?”
A shake of his head.
“Then what do you want?” she asked.
“You. Here. With me. Always. Because I am a selfish bastard like that.”
“It’s funny. I guess I’m selfish like that, too. Because I want you, here, with me. Always.”
“Agnes—”
“Your uncle is dead. He was murdered in his cell. His throat was slit. Ear to ear.”
Cass didn’t even blink. “Did you come to ask me if I ordered the hit?”
“No.” She hadn’t. Cass had pulled out of the MC world, but…he was gone, not forgotten. The intel picked up by the FBI indicated that Cass still held plenty of power. Javion had taken over the Strikers, and, at the big, bad meeting for leaders in Arizona—a meeting that she and Cass had never quite made it to—Javion had flatly announced that Cass would always belong to his crew, that he would be protected, no matter what.
Rumors were swirling about Cass, though. The man was even more of a myth, a legend these days.
Some people insisted Cass was dead, killed in the blast at the warehouse. They didn’t get why Javion would protect a dead man.
Others believed that Cass was in the wind, riding hard as he looked for new trouble. New danger.
And she knew that he’d started a new life, one on quiet shores. Would he still raise hell? Oh, absolutely, because Gray had tipped her off that Cass didn’t intend to go easily into retirement. He’d still be working with Gray every now and then.
Maybe he’d even be pulling some backup work for her brothers when the need arose. Did that mean Cass could be going international with his bad self? Probably.
He wasn’t the type to fade into the darkness. She’d tried to tell him before. Cass just hadn’t been made for the dark. Agnes gathered her nerve and her courage and said, “I came to let you know Winston was dead. And to tell you that I don’t want to live without you.”
“Agnes.” A lunging step toward her. “I can’t let you go again.”
“I didn’t ask to be let go the first time.” She had not. “You were the one trying to pull the martyr card on me.”
“You love working at the FBI. You love your job.”
She did. She loved protecting and defending and helping the victims because she knew what it was like to be one of them. “Funny thing. I hear they are looking for a new sheriff in this area. I sort of think that I might make a kick-ass sheriff. I’ll even get one of those really cool hats to wear.”
“Agnes.”
“Did I ever tell you that I love the way you say my name? I used to hate my name. Until you said it the first time. It feels sexy and strong when you say it.”
“You are sexy and strong.” His hands unclenched, just to immediately fist again. “Sheriff, huh? You gonna be happy with that life?”
“You gonna be happy with me and the kids we’ll have?”
Longing burned all the brighter in his eyes.
“You gonna be happy with the life that we will build, together?” Agnes held her breath.
His eyes closed. “You have no idea how badly I want that life.”
Good. Great. Fantastic. Her breath shuddered out. “Then take it.” Take me.
His eyes opened. “You’re not a dream.”
“No.”
“You’re really here.”
“Yes.” Standing in front of him, bold as day.
“And you still love me?” Careful. So very careful.
“I will love you until I die.”
He was on her. Kissing her. Hugging her. Pulling her close, and she was finally, finally happy because the last few months had been hell. She’d had to close the cases she worked. Had to get the charges set against the criminal bastards who’d been in the Twins. Had to finish her job. Had to miss Cass every single day and night.
But no more. No more. She’d told Gray that her choice had been made long ago. It had been made the first night she spent with Cass. For her, he was it.
She’d do whatever it took to be with him.
A new city, a new job, a new life? She was all in. Whatever it took, she would do it. They would be together, and they would be happy.
He eased back, just a bit. “Your brothers are gonna want to kick my ass.”
“They already do want that.” But, more… “They want me happy. I’ll be happy with you.” She smiled at him. “Now, about that motorcycle ride…”
His hands curled around her waist. Cass lifted her up. A few steps had them at the bike. He put her on the seat. Slid in front of her. Her arms curled around him. She hugged him tightly because she’d missed him so, so much. “Hey, Cass?”
He revved the engine.
“Is someone inside to watch your bar?” The bar belonged to him. Part of his new life. Their new life.
“Yeah, I’ve got an assistant.”
Good. “Then guess what we get to do?” She inhaled his scent. She pulled in his warmth. Her Cass. Hers.
“What, princess?”
Her head turned. She could see the edge of the bay beyond the trees. The sun was dipping into the water. Such a beautiful gold. Kind of like the gold that hid in the darkness of his eyes. “We get to ride off into the sunset.” She swallowed. Twice. “And we get to be happy.”
It hadn’t been easy. Hadn’t been pretty. It had been violent and scary and their time together had completely changed them both. But…
He slowly drove toward the sunset and the road that eased along the bay.
They would get to be happy. She’d spend the rest of her days with Cass. She’d watch his back. He’d guard hers. They would be partners. Friends. Lovers.
A family.
“It’s a beautiful sunset,” she told him.
“It’s gonna be a beautiful life,” he told her.
Yes, it would be. They would make certain of it.
* * *
THE END
Looking for another romantic suspense from Cynthia Eden? If you’re in the mood for a dark and twisty read, don’t miss COMPULSION.
* * *
They wake up hand-cuffed together in a serial killer’s lair…hardly the cute-meet of her dreams. But then again, her dreams are usually nightmares so…
* * *
Lily Gallo knows killers. She should, after all, because serial killers are her specialty. She’s the daughter of a notorious serial killer, and she’s made it her life’s work to study the brutal predators. And, recently, she’s been researching the offspring of serials. She’s looking for others who are just like she is. Her research has brought her into the life of reclusive billionaire Atlas Bennett. He’d refused her repeated requests for a meeting. She’d suspected he might be following in his father’s brutal footsteps. But now…
* * *
They’re both trapped, and they have to rely on each other for survival.
* * *
Atlas can’t believe it when he wakes up handcuffed to the beautiful and infuriating Lily. The woman thinks he’s as savage as his twisted father, but she has no clue what dark secrets he really holds. For the moment, though, escape is their priority. But once they get out of that hell, Lily will be his. He’d warned her to stay away. Now, it’s too late. Her fate is sealed.
* * *
A killer is after them both. To survive, they have to trust each other. They also have to stay very, very close to one another…
