by AJ Wyatt
Vice stopped at the top of the stairs and looked out at the college. Then he said something to Talon I couldn't understand. Like a language, I'd never heard. Talon's eyes narrowed, but he said nothing in reply.
I took a deep breath and said a little prayer before I went to the door.
The door behind us opened, and I nearly drew my pistol. Trib stood there in her tiny shorts and a loose-fitting top, looking like she'd just been lounging in bed with a book.
“Did you forget which room we’re in?” She asked.
Ah. “It’s been a long night.”
The dorm looked awesome. Trib had taken the time to grab some of our things and toss them around, so it looked lived in. She really was a genius.
“Are we a vampire waiting to be invited in?” Vice asked wryly.
“No,” I said. “Come on in. Make yourselves as at home as possible under the circumstances. Talon, Vice, this is Julianne Tribulet.”
“I go by Trib,” she said. “Don’t ever call me Julianne. Or anything else.”
"I'm not going to call you anything," Talon said. "I've had about enough nonsense. You're going to tell me who and what you are because I know you're not college students."
“Your father,” I said, “before he died, hired me to protect you. He feared for your safety.”
Trib’s eyes widened ever so slightly as she turned to look at me. I don’t think anyone who wasn’t her best friend in the world would have noticed.
“And you can prove that?” Talon asked. “You have documentation? A signed contract?”
“We do,” I said. “Not here, of course. This dorm room was just part of the setup. We work out of an office like normal people. I think you can understand why the subterfuge was necessary. After all, the forces arrayed against you are powerful and unpredictable. Your father thought that a clandestine approach would be best."
Talon turned to Vice, and again they spoke to each other in a language I'd never heard. Vice looked amused. Talon looked like he was ready to bolt and take his chances out on the street. If he tried to leave, I'd have to stop him, but how?
He surprised me, though.
He walked over to the bed and sat down.
“He did love us,” he said softly. “I told you he did.”
Vice scoffed and looked away.
“And where,” Vice said, “Are we supposed to stay? Are we bunking together?”
He looked at the tiny room with a mixture of amusement and disdain. The two of them were probably raised in mansions or something. This place must look like an absolute dump by comparison. And even if it didn’t, the single beds were way too small to fit two.
"You'll be staying one floor up," Trib said. "The dorms are empty, and we have spare keys."
We do? It was my turn to stare in shock. Of course, my back was to the boys, so it didn't matter.
“If you’ll come with me,” Trib said, “I’ll get you situated, and then we can discuss further.”
She gave me a significant look and then lead the boys out. As soon as they were out, I ran for our actual room across the hall. She'd left a note.
MAGNUS IN DANGER? it read.
Shit, shit, shit. Magnus could be in danger too. I’d thought whatever the threat was, it was to Talon and Vice. But what if it was all four of them in danger? Someone wanting to wipe out the whole list? That would leave Magnus defenseless.
It would also leave Asshole in danger. But Asshole was really good at taking care of himself. In fact, it was what he was best at. Well, okay, he was best at something a lot naughtier that I shouldn’t have been so eager to try back then. But I did, and I'd never forgotten what it felt like to have him touch me… some nights, I still dreamt about it, only to wake in the dark craving his touch. That didn't change how big an Asshole he was, though. So I guess taking care of himself was a close second, and given who he was, he probably wasn't in real danger.
Being the son of a local Russian mob boss made him pretty hard to kill.
I crumpled the note and flushed it and then checked under the beds. I tossed my tiny pistol and grabbed a bigger handgun from the bed. No time for shoes. I took off at a run for Magnus's on-campus apartment. Faulkner College wasn't huge, and I could run a six-minute mile when I needed to. A few minutes later, panting, I ground to a halt in front of his place. The cars parked outside were empty. Nothing strange there. But I saw the signs of a wrecking bar used on the front door. Those scratches could only come from one thing. I got closer, readying my pistol. The door was closed but not latched. The latch didn't work anymore.
I went inside, scanning for any movement. The place was a wreck. There’d been a struggle. I could see where someone had been tackled over the desk and dumped the whole thing over. A vase shattered. A hole punched through the drywall. No bullet holes or blood spatter. That was good news. They took him alive.
I did my best to close the door behind me and wiped my prints. God forbid those get run through the FBI database. I don’t even know what comes up in that case. A note that says: Dangerous, Contact CIA If Found? Or maybe: Wanted, Dead or Alive? Probably something closer to the latter these days. I jogged back and found Trib in our fake dorm, lounging in bed, reading a book.
“They took him,” I said. “Alive, for now.”
“We’ll need the campus security footage,” Trib said. “And we’ll need police access to trace the—”
A knock at the door startled us both. I opened it and saw Vice standing there. He looked more presentable, having obviously just showered. He was only wearing a towel, and his gorgeous hair looked amazing wet and falling all over his shoulders.
“I came to borrow a cup of sugar,” he said.
“It’s a little late,” I told him, “You should get some sleep.”
“It’s my morning, little mouse. What I should get is breakfast. That lunatic you've got me rooming with is already dozing, and he'll be up at five ready to run eight miles and have an omelet with no yolk because god forbid something tastes good."
“Come on,” I said, letting him in.
Trib sat very still, clutching her book in her lap. She was used to being miles away, watching everything on screens.
"I should, um…" she said, her voice suddenly very high-pitched. She was looking at Vice's abs, which were every bit as impressive as his brother's, and at the prominent bulge in the front of his thin towel, which I was definitely curious about myself. Were they really identical?
Trib stood and went to the door and abruptly left without a word. She was blushing even down the back of her neck.
I looked at Vice and, for the first time noticed the scars on his body. They crisscrossed each other across his chest and abs like he'd been whipped with something vicious. Without thinking, I reached out and touched the scar over his left eye. He closed his eye but didn't flinch away.
“If you were going to tell a lie, you chose the right one for him,” Vice said. “There is nothing he wouldn’t do for that old goblin, our dad. I can’t wait for the funeral so I can watch him lick our father’s boots for the last time.”
“What makes you think I’m lying?”
“The same reason he thinks you’re telling the truth, except in reverse. I know the old man never loved us. Loved him, maybe. He would never have paid one cent to have you look after me."
“What makes you so sure?”
Vice took my hand and brought it lower, running my fingers across the raised edges of the thick scars.
“Who do you think gave me these?”
He didn’t have to tug too hard to pull me close.
“And you want to know the truth?” I asked, close enough to taste the breath from his mouth.
“I don’t care about the truth.”
He laced his fingers through my hair and pulled me into a kiss. Then, as his lips melted into mine, I found myself sliding down to straddle him on the edge of the bed. The towel felt very thin indeed.
7
I moaned as Vice ran his hands down my bac
k. His tongue slipped into my mouth and mine into his. I was still primed from being with Talon earlier and maybe even more from all the adrenaline. I craved the release, and I began tugging at the towel to get it loose.
Vice smiled. “Not yet,” he said.
He rolled and shoved me onto my back. I'd ditched my soaked underwear as soon as I’d gotten back, so there was nothing down there but my bare skin. His mouth found my clit instantly, and he played at it, just enough to bring me to the edge. My fingers wound up in his hair as release found me. I clamped my thighs around his face and rode the waves of pleasure that I felt all the way to the tips of my toes. Every ounce of pent up tension inside me came loose and I cried out. I shook until it left me exhausted and I fell limp across my pillow.
He could have done anything to me then. I wanted him to. My eyes must have told him that much.
He smiled, and took one of my feet in his hand.
“What on earth?” I asked.
I realized that my foot was still covered in dirt and grass from the run. I'd ditched my heels along with my underwear. I'd had to hoof it to Magnus's barefoot. They were a little raw but not bad. I'd been running cornfields barefoot since I could run. My feet were calloused and something I was a little embarrassed about having his hands on.
“My feet are dirty,” I said.
Vice got up, looking very serious, and went to the bathroom. I heard the water running, and he returned with a warm, wet cloth.
He wiped my feet clean. I winced as it burned a little on the rough spots.
“Your feet are tough,” he said. “I can feel the muscles bunched up in there.”
He found a bottle of bath oil that Trib must have picked up. Both of us loved scented baths. I mean, come on. Who doesn’t?
He spread the oil across my bare foot and began to rub, and I moaned almost as loudly as I had when he'd made me climax. I hadn't realized how much tension built up in there, and he seemed to have a knack for finding it. First, he rubbed gently, and then when he found a knot, he ground it out with his knuckles. It was a little painful, but the release felt so good. I felt the sensations going straight up my legs. It was as if he could caress his way up my thighs and across my belly just by flexing my toes.
He lowered that foot and started on the other.
By the time he was done, I felt more relaxed than I had in a long time. Suddenly the weight of the day hit me like a lead blanket, and I found myself drifting. His lips brushed my forehead.
“Goodnight, little mouse,” he said. “Although I have a funny feeling you’re really the cat.”
Trib must have been reading on the stairs because she came in just after he left. My eyes fluttered open. She raised an eyebrow.
"Sure," she said, sighing. "I'll set up the security cameras tonight, so we don't all die in our sleep. You're welcome."
I don’t remember what else she said because I passed out.
The nap only lasted a few hours before I woke, panting in the darkness. Sweat chilled my skin, and fear pooled inside me. In the dream, I’d been kneeling in the snow of an Iowa cornfield, trying to lift my father’s head enough for him to breathe.
What am I doing fooling around with these guys?
My brain felt like it was going haywire, and the thought of Vice’s tongue between my legs still made me spasm a little.
My pussy was wet, whether I liked it or not, while my brain struggled to turn it off.
It’s work time, damn it. And we won’t be getting entangled with either of those brothers again, so don’t get your hopes up.
I got dressed in some jeans and a little cami top. A twinge of guilt hit me when I saw the work Trib had put in. New cameras were up, in the fake dorm and in the hall upstairs. A quick glance in our real dorm, and I saw she'd set some up in the boys' rooms upstairs. On her monitor, I could watch Talon and Vice sleeping. I could’ve woken them up right then if I wanted to.
Part of me hungered for it.
Hell, I could wake them both up and take turns…
But I won’t, I thought sternly. Celibacy is the only way.
Trib groaned and slipped her glasses on.
“Mmm, are you up?” She mumbled.
“No, sweetie. Go back to sleep. You need rest.”
I put on a jacket to hide the pistol I was taking with me, grabbed a pair of shoes from the floor, and headed out. It was a little after 2AM, and Magnus's trail shouldn't be ice cold yet.
I found the campus security office empty, except for one poor security guard on the night shift who looked young enough to be a student. The door had a maglock on it, so I knocked, and he buzzed me in.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “This isn’t Terry Hall, is it? I’m supposed to meet someone.”
He looked me up and down and said, "It's a bit late, miss. Curfew is at ten PM. Which dorm are you in? I can walk you back."
“Oh! I didn’t realize there was a curfew. I probably don’t need an escort.”
He got to his feet, and he was over six feet and really filled out his uniform well. Nice-looking college guy. I walked over and gave him a big hug, which left him a little shell-shocked.
“You’re so sweet,” I said, keeping my chest pressed against his. His eyes drifted down to my cleavage. He pulled away abruptly and sat back down, pulling a clipboard onto his lap for cover. He was blushing furiously.
“Well, if you can make your own way back, um, that's fine, miss. Just make sure to head straight back. It's important so you—yeah… Just make sure.”
“I will. You’re a real sweetheart.”
I winked and wrote down a phone number on his notepad, along with the note, Send me a dick pic. It wasn’t my number, per se, but Trib would get the messages if he sent any.
I went back outside with his key card in my pocket. I had ages to steal it during that hug. I walked to a nearby emergency phone, one of many that dotted the campus, and waited for ten minutes. Then I picked up the receiver and waited.
"Campus Security, what's your emergency, please?"
“I’m on my way to my dorm,” I said, slurring drunkenly. “I think someone is following me. Please help.”
“Can you stay where you are?”
“No, I have to keep moving. Please.”
I gave him a location across campus where I was heading and told him to hurry. It only took a few moments for him to leave the security building and jog to the phone I'd used. He looked around and then headed in the direction I'd told him I'd be going.
He ran at a fast clip, so there wouldn’t be much time.
I buzzed myself into the security building and ran to his monitor, where row after row of security cams covered the screen. It took me a minute to page through until I recognized the part of campus that Magnus’s house was on. They had a pretty standard setup, with video controls that anyone could use. Fast forward, rewind, that kind of thing.
I dialed it back to earlier in the evening to find the footage I wanted.
Two cars screeched to a halt in front of Magnus's place, and a half dozen men poured out of them. They were well trained. They busted in the door and dragged Magnus out in less than a minute. I had to fast forward through it to get to the end. The license plates were removed, a good trick for kidnapping someone, but that didn't matter.
I knew who they were just by looking. Magnus had thrown them around some. Half their shirts were left in tatters. I saw plenty of grinning tigers, thieves stars, and the weird little bald guys they thought looked like Lenin but really looked more like a melting Danny Devito.
Bratva. The Russian mob.
And who did these guys work for? Asshole.
I left and tossed the keycard on the steps on my way out. I didn't want to be a jerk and get Mr. Guard locked out, so I made sure it was in a spot where he'd see it. He'd probably figure he'd lost it when he was in a hurry.
I was going to wait a little longer to wake Trib and let her know that we had to pay Asshole a visit a lot sooner than I'd hoped. Really, I'd hoped it w
ould be never. But, instead of waiting alone, I nearly bumped into Talon on the stairs. He had his feet propped up and was doing push-ups at a steep angle. A thin sheen of sweat glistened across his perfectly muscled back. He'd left his jeans behind and was working out in just his boxer briefs, so I could see his amazing ass popping up and down as he knocked out the reps.
I was speechless.
He looked up at me and got to his feet.
"Don't think I'm done with you," he said, pacing like a caged animal as he spoke, "just because you had a quick story to tell last night. I intend to verify every detail of what you've told me. And once I can contact my own security team today, I will be gone from here and back where I belong at the head of Osborne."
“You almost lost your head at Osborne. Shouldn’t you take a day or two to be safe?”
“Are you joking? Grenades were set off in my building, Rayne. Windows were shot out. People will be waking up in a couple of hours and heading in to work at that building, and they need to see that I'm not running from anything. They need to know that they're safe being there."
I could see the tension in him. He really cared about the company, about those people in their glass offices. It meant enough to him to risk his life.
“Those mercenaries weren’t trying to kill your secretary,” I said. “They were trying to kill you. And you being there may actually put more people in danger. I’ll get to the bottom of this soon. Give me a day.”
“A lot can happen in a day,” Talon said. “Blair certainly won’t stop for a day. You can bet she’ll be there.” The acid in his voice surprised me.
“Blair seems like a real thorn in your side. What is it? She married your dad when he was a zillion years old and wormed her way into the family business?” I didn’t want to say it, but part of me thought she deserved a little something. Maybe not a multi-billion dollar global conglomerate, but I saw the portrait of that old man. If she was sucking his dick, he must have promised her something.
"Blair…" Talon's rage bled out of him, and he sat down on the steps. "She was mine. My fiancé, actually. This was nearly ten years ago. When she found out the money wasn't mine, that I was still tethered to the old man by the purse strings, she decided to pursue the source directly. Little things at first, wanting to spend more time at the mansion. Family gatherings, official dinners. She said it was important to be a part of the family, a real part of the family. And like a fool, I believed her."
