by Jen Talty
“I hope they were able to get everything on my list.”
Clayton laughed. “If they couldn’t find it at Target, you ain’t getting it.”
She met him at the door and snapped the dishtowel at his leg.
He growled. “That hurt.”
“Hurt so good.”
She was going to be the death of him.
He gripped the handle. “Why don’t you go into the bedroom. I’ll bring everything back to you.”
She lowered her chin and raised a brow. “Do you not want your friends—”
“Gawking at your sexy body? You’re damn right I don’t want that. Now scoot.”
“Not on your life.”
“Thank God they’re both married,” he mumbled as he pushed open the door. “Swede, Boomer, fancy meeting you here.”
“I get a few days off to be with my family and what happens? You happen.” Boomer slapped him on the shoulder as he breezed past him. “You must be Sage. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He dropped a large Target bag on the floor and stretched out his hand. “I hope Mr. Dry-No-Personality is being a gentleman.”
“Mr. Dry-No-Personality?” she asked, glancing between Clayton and Boomer.
“Clayton doesn’t sweat under pressure, and he’s the calmest man in combat I’ve ever served with,” Swede said, holding out two smaller plastic bags. “I think we managed to get everything on your list.”
“You two are lifesavers,” she said.
“Hey, that’s my job,” Clayton teased with a wicked grin until Swede stared at him with a cocked head and a smirk. “Why don’t you take all that stuff back to the bedroom.”
“I hope the clothes fit and that you like them. My wife says I have shit taste,” Swede said, making himself comfortable at the kitchen table.
“It’s got to be better than wearing his clothes, which are ten sizes too big.” She gathered up the bags and headed toward the bedroom. “I’ll be out in a jiffy.”
Clayton ducked his head into the fridge and pulled out three beers. “Let’s take this outside.”
“We brought marshmallows,” Swede said with a little too much excitement.
“Tell me what you know.” Once outside, Clayton went about making a small bonfire. As much as he wanted this over, he didn’t want his time with Sage to end. Not yet, anyway.
“Trisha managed to get ahold of Stanley’s phone records, and guess who has called him five times in the last two weeks.”
“Maxwell.” Clayton doused the wood with kerosene. He took the fire stick and set the logs ablaze. He stared at the yellow and orange flames inking toward the sky. “The man has been sentenced to life in prison without parole, and he’s still fucking with my existence.”
“It gets better,” Swede said, taking a long draw from his beer. “Trisha also got into his email. It turns out Maxwell bankrolled a few deals for Stanley, forcing him to keep the businesses so Maxwell could launder his money.”
“How long has that been going on?” Clayton sat on the log and fiddled with the condensation dripping down the side of his beer.
“About twenty years.” Boomer took a small tablet out of his backpack. “Maxwell and Stanley went to high school together.”
“No way.” Clayton took the tablet in his hands and scrolled through the information.
“Their senior year a young woman was murdered by asphyxiation during a sex act,” Boomer said. “It just happened to be Stanley’s girlfriend at the time.”
“Jesus,” Clayton mumbled. While Sage had accepted her parents were a bit heartless, this might devastate her. “Why didn’t that show up on a background check?”
“He was questioned and let go,” Boomer said. “But he gave the cops a name.” Boomer reached in front of Clayton and tapped the screen. “The cops arrested a man by the name of Jonathon Dixon who just happened to be Maxwell’s stepfather.”
“Maxwell’s mother died in a car crash about the same time I left for the Navy. She wasn’t married, and her name certainly wasn’t Dixon.” Clayton scratched the scruff on the side of his neck. “There was speculation that Maxwell had her killed, but I spoke to the lead on the case more than once, and he said Maxwell’s hands were clean.”
“Why would he have his own mother killed?” Swede asked.
“Same reason that he wants his son dead and will go to insane lengths to do it.” Clayton chugged his beer. “He couldn’t kill me at my mother’s funeral, but his men tried. Anytime I set foot in Vegas, I’m looking over my shoulder waiting for someone like Nolan to show up and put a bullet in my back. I get the feeling that Maxwell is looking at killing two birds with one stone.”
“So that brings us to something else Trisha uncovered,” Swede said. “Maxwell sent images of Stanley having sex with Gina, the dead ex-girlfriend, and the time stamp is the night she died. The more Trisha dug, the more she believes Stanley killed his girlfriend, and Maxwell framed his stepfather for the deed.”
“Alright, so Maxwell and Stanley are bound together in crime, but what does Sage have to do with all that?” There were too many unanswered questions, and every time they uncovered something, all it did was raise more questions. But it also showed Clayton the depths at which Stanley was hooked in tight with Maxwell, especially since their crimes seemed to go back to high school. Some bonds were nearly impossible to cut, something Clayton understood, but from a different angle. The deep connection he felt for his brothers both in and out of the military ran deep. He’d do anything for the men he’d served with, and he’d lay down his life for anyone in the Brotherhood Protectors. It was a code of honor that never needed to be spoken.
But now he found himself emotionally attached to Sage in ways he couldn’t have imagined. It went beyond feeling protective, something he got paid to do. No. He cared for her in ways he didn’t think he could.
And, if he were being honest, he wanted more. Hell, he wanted everything, and a huge part of him had been thrilled when his buddies didn’t think it a good idea to go to her place.
That meant no birth control, and Clayton wasn’t sure what to think about that.
He’d always believed he wasn’t cut out to be a dad, but he wouldn’t want to deny Sage the ability to have a family of her own. She might believe she didn’t want that kind of traditional lifestyle, but Clayton saw the reality hidden in her soft sea-blue eyes. She had more love in her than he could have ever imagined. She was the kind of person he could only dream of being with.
“She’s a means to get to you,” Swede said. “Maxwell is using what he has over her parents to force their hand, and frankly, they only seem to think about themselves and making sure they come out smelling like roses. They don’t care what happens to Sage.”
“You’re not telling me something, and I want to know what it is,” Clayton said.
“Stanley contacted Glenn Nolan and gave him your location. The hit is scheduled to go down tonight,” Boomer said. “Maxwell has been playing us all.”
“It’s time to turn the tables,” Clayton said, setting his beer on the ground. “Let’s put an end to this tonight.”
“I’m glad you said that,” Boomer said. “Trisha was able to track all of Stanley’s calls today, and he spoke to Maxwell. He wants to kill Sage and make it look like you did it, and I will enjoy foiling that plan.”
“I can’t believe Maxwell would consider letting me live,” Clayton said.
“Oh, he wants you to experience what prison life is like for a month or two before having someone kill you on the inside.” Swede raised his beer. “Here’s to putting Maxwell Busgy in his place.”
“I’ll drink to that,” Clayton said. Now all he had to do was fill in the blanks with Sage and hope like hell she didn’t freak out and change her mind because he was going to need her help to make sure her parents went to prison for their crimes.
“Are you okay?”
Sage tossed the tablet across the table. “What the fuck do you think?” She glared at Clayton. Coming to terms with her
parents not loving her was one thing, but the fact they had no problem having her killed so her father wouldn’t be called out as a murderer made her want to stick her head in the toilet.
“I wish it weren’t true,” Clayton said.
“You and me, both.” She pulled out a chair and plopped her ass down. “If we manage to survive this plan, what will happen to my parents?”
“They will be arrested and most likely spend the rest of their lives in prison with my father.”
“And if we fail?”
“You’ll be dead, and I’ll be visiting my father in prison so he can kill me himself.”
“You know, I want to believe that my parents sent me off to boarding school to protect me from all this, but—”
“That might, in part, be true,” Clayton said. He leaned against the kitchen sink, his weapon holstered on his belt.
“My foundation is tainted now.” Every penny her father had loaned her was blood money, and that just made her sick to her stomach. At this point, she’d rather be living on the streets than taking a single dime from her father.
“No. It’s not. And don’t you dare ever stop going the extra mile. The world needs people like you.”
“Right. Because asking my criminal father to bankroll a charity is such a noble thing.”
“Hey, my mom stole from Maxwell to start the Alley Home, and I’d do the same thing. Hell, if I could find a way for you to have all your parents’ money and use it for something good, then all this would be well worth it.”
“All I’ve ever wanted was for them to be proud of me. To love and support me.” She lifted a wine glass to her lips and took a big gulp.
“I love and support you.”
The glass slipped from her fingers, shattering on the floor. “What did you just say?”
“I think what you are doing is amazing. You’ve helped more people in your fundraising endeavors than any other not-for-profit. That’s something to be proud of.” Clayton snagged the broom and dustpan and went about cleaning up the broken pieces of glass around her feet.
“And I am, but it’s the front part of your original statement that has my pulse raging to dangerous levels.” Love? Did he feel something akin to love? Granted, he didn’t say he loved her, but he did use the damn stupid word.
After tossing the glass into the trash, he glanced to the ceiling as if he searched for an answer he didn’t already have.
“Let me help you,” she said, taking in a deep breath for support. “You used the word love, and while I have your attention, why was there a pregnancy test in the bag of crap your buddies brought me?”
He stood and inched his way into her personal space. She should run, and run fast, but instead, she caved to her need to be touched.
Caressed.
Cared for.
Fuck. She wanted desperately to have him love her for real.
“They say you can find out if you're pregnant long before you’ve missed a period, and I think it’s important for us to know.”
“Why?” She raised her palms. “So we can make the same mistakes our parents did?”
“You aren’t anything like your mom and dad, and you’ve helped me see how it doesn’t matter who my birth father was. I’m a decent person who, in the end, does the right thing.”
She tossed her head back and laughed. “Of course, you’re a decent man, but that has nothing to do with the fact neither one of us are prepared to take care of a little human, much less want to.” Only, if she were carrying his child, she’d want to keep it. She’d want to raise it and love it like it was the most extraordinary thing that ever happened.
As children should be seen in the eyes of their parents.
“I don’t see what’s so funny,” he said.
“The likelihood I’m pregnant is slim to none, but that’s not even half of what I’m laughing at.” She cleared her throat. He deserved for her to act like the grown-up she was, even if everything felt utterly absurd. “I’m sorry, this isn’t anything to laugh at, but seriously, I’m completely turning on my parents. They might not have honestly loved me, but they did provide for me, and this feels icky.”
“Icky is one way to put it, but remember they have no problem having you murdered to save their own collective assess.” He shoved a tablet in front of her. “These emails don’t lie.”
She tapped the screen and scanned the documents that proved without a doubt that her father was indeed in bed with organized crime. Her mother was more than a corporate lawyer; she helped get many of their associates off, and she had done her best to hide criminal activity.
But there was no denying that Maxwell ordered a hit on her and wanted to make it look like Clayton had done it. If they didn’t do their part, then Maxwell would toss them under the bus. Her parents would end up bankrupt and facing criminal charges.
Clayton’s cell rang, cutting through the thick tension.
“Hey, Dustin, you’re on speaker with Sage.”
“I’ve got good news and bad news. What do you want first?” Dustin asked.
“God, I hate that question,” Sage mumbled.
Clayton paced in front of the table with his hands on his hips. His feet rattled the floorboards. The sound of his buddies sitting outside by the campfire tickled her ears. She was in good hands, and they had a plan to not only protect her but to bring down her parents. Unfortunately, she’d overheard Clayton telling Boomer and Swede that they needed more time to gather enough evidence to prove her parents’ role in all this and more.
Otherwise, she still might end up dumped in the desert, only to end up like a crisp piece of chicken.
“Always the good news first,” Clayton said.
“Nolan is on his way toward the campground. Estimated time of arrival is in twenty-eight minutes.”
She didn’t know why that was good news, but it made Clayton smile like a little boy.
“Let the party begin,” Clayton said. “Now, bring on the bad.”
“I’m not sure you want to do this on speaker—”
“She has the right to know, especially since we’re putting her in danger.” Clayton stopped pacing for a second.
Usually, she hated people speaking for her, but in this instance, she was perfectly fine with it. She nodded.
“All right,” Dustin said. “Stanley and Lorna are about to make a press statement.”
“About what?” Clayton practically jumped over the coffee table. He managed to find the remote and pointed it at the television.
“They officially fired us, so everything we’re getting is through illegal means, but they are going to announce that their daughter is being held for ransom by you.”
“That’s an interesting twist, but the Brotherhood will back me, so kind of a stupid plan.”
“Not really,” Dustin said. “They have footage of you ramming into the Lyft driver, and then you shooting Weslynn and—”
“That’s impossible,” Sage said.
“It’s pretty easy to forge a fake video, which will eventually be found out, but you know how things go viral,” Clayton said as if he had nothing to worry about.
Tears stung her eyes. She folded her arms over her chest.
Clayton kneeled in front of her, taking her hands into his strong ones. “It’s going to be okay. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
“If you don’t manage to take down my parents, I’m ruined. You take them down. I’m ruined. Everything I’ve worked for will be gone in a snap of a finger. The money for my foundation will be called—”
“Sage. I told you I'd be by your side every step of the way. I will keep you alive and make sure you can still do all the wonderful work your charity has been doing for the last few years. I promise.”
She cupped his face. No man she’d ever met had the kind of honor that Clayton had. He was the real deal. He was everything she could ever want in a man.
He pressed his lips against hers for a brief kiss. It was soft and tender.
Lov
ing.
“If this goes bad I want to say thank —”
“It’s not going to go bad, so save any thoughts you have for when all this is done, and I have the chance to take you on a proper date.”
“If things go well, there will be nothing proper about it.”
Chapter 9
“I can’t believe I agreed to this.” Clayton sat on the log in front of the firepit with his weapon in his lap. A nearly full moon glowed brightly in the star-dotted sky. Every op came with risks, but there was nothing worse than using a civilian as bait.
“Can’t say I’m thrilled either.” Sage sat on the ground between his legs. She tucked her knees to her chest. “I don’t see we have any other choice.”
“There are other options, but they aren’t any better.” He ran his fingers through her soft hair, careful not to tug too hard. Being with her was the most natural thing in the world. He liked the idea of taking her inside and snuggling up against her back while they lay in bed watching a movie. Sitting with a woman for hours, doing nothing but being with each other hadn’t been something Clayton had any desire to do.
But with Sage, everything was different.
“I feel like I have a red dot on the center of my chest.” Sage dropped her head back and hugged his thigh. She glanced up at him with sadness, stuck in her sweet eyes. “And what my father said about you during the press conference…I’m so sorry.”
Clayton shrugged. “I’ve been called a bastard my entire life.”
“He spewed lies about you and the kind of man you are.”
“Not all of them are lies.”
“You’re aren’t holding me against my will, and that is so not the point,” she said. “People will believe them, especially since my father told the world that Maxwell is your biological dad.”
“I don’t care what anyone thinks of me.” How he wished that statement were true. It was one thing to accept Maxwell had fathered him, but it was another thing to admit how that fact made Clayton feel about himself.
