Protector (Grim Legion MC #1)

by Brook Wilder

  “You okay?”

  I gave him a short nod.

  “I’m fine.”

  “Smart move, having him stay onsite,” my father remarked as he walked out, his own guards trailing behind him. “Come, let us interrogate this trespasser together.”

  Fox winked at me, before he followed behind my father, leaving Alice and me in the kitchen alone.

  “Oh, my God,” Alice remarked once their footsteps had faded. “Was that him?”

  “Yeah,” I said softly, still watching the empty doorway. “That was him.”

  Now what was I going to do with him?

  Chapter 8

  Fox

  I prowled through the dark house, double checking the locks on the windows and doors. For rich bastards, they sure weren’t on top of their own security. In fact, I had found more than one window unlatched, just waiting for someone to get past the security guards, who were currently playing cards and not paying attention to the cameras, to gain access to the house. I imagined that was how the first incident had happened.

  Either that or one of the guests at the engagement party was after Nat.

  Drawing in a breath, I thought about Hector Chavez and his claims of not being part of anything other than a scare tactic. Zebrovskiy and his men had worked him over good, but I had stopped them from killing him, citing they did not want to start a war with the Cazadores. It was going to be bad enough that he’d had the shit beat out of him and dropped off in front of Nieto’s house.

  It was only a matter of time before all hell broke loose, but killing a man would speed up the process and the level of violence.

  But for now, I had to find out who was causing the real threat to Nat. I had three weeks to do so, before I would be kicked out of the picture and Bryan would take over. I didn’t trust the asshole as far as I could throw him, and the way he had reacted to Nat’s call for me had nearly pushed me over the edge. The man was a hothead, enjoyed being in control, and with me in her life he wasn’t in control.

  I would be keeping an eye on him.

  Running a hand over my head, I started back up the stairs, taking them two at a time. At least he didn’t know about me staying on the second floor, right down the hall from Nat’s suite. He would likely blow a gasket. I knew I would be pissed off in his position.

  Rounding the corner, I had just reached my door when Nat’s opened, and she stood in the doorway, dressed in a pair of leggings and a long shirt, her hair down around her shoulders.

  “Hey.”

  “Hey yourself,” I answered. “You okay?”

  She shrugged.

  “I don’t know, really. Did you… Did you kill him?”

  I shook my head slowly.

  “He’s gonna hurt for a long time, but no, we didn’t kill him.”

  “Oh,” she said, opening the door wider. “I know this sounds silly, but can you come and talk with me for a little while? I-I don’t want to be alone.”

  “Nat,” I started, swallowing hard. “That’s not a good idea.”

  The two of us alone in her suite…? Hell, I would struggle to keep my hands off her.

  “Please,” she begged. “I promise, just talking.”

  That did it for me. I walked toward her suite, passing through the doorway.

  “Leave the door open.”

  She did as I instructed, motioning to the sitting area.

  “Have a seat. Can I get you a beer?”

  “Sure,” I answered, seating myself on the white leather couch.

  The lights were dimmed low, and she had some fruity candle burning, soft music playing in the background.

  “I’m more of a vodka girl myself,” she answered, reaching into the mini fridge and producing a beer. “Alice, she likes a good beer. That’s why I keep them in here for her.”

  I thought about the curvy girl with the big glasses.

  “She’s interesting.”

  Nat laughed as she handed me the beer, sitting next to me on the couch.

  “You were right you know. She is a good friend of mine and I was stupid to listen to my mother about leaving her out of the wedding.”

  I popped the top, taking a long drawl off the can.

  “So, she’s back in?”

  Nat nodded, curling her legs up under her, a smile on her face.

  “I can’t wait to tell my mother. She’s going to shit a brick.”

  I looked at her, the flush in her cheeks.

  “I’m proud of you.”

  She cocked her head to the side, surprise in her expression.

  “For what?”

  “For doing that,” I answered. “You are standing up to your mother. It’s your own damn wedding, after all. You should be happy on that day.”

  Her smile faded.

  “Of course. It is my wedding, after all.”

  I sensed the change in her instantly, wondering why she was marrying an asshole like Bryan to begin with. Surely not because she loved him or even remotely liked him. No, it was something else, something important to her.

  Damn, she was sacrificing herself.

  “So,” Nat said after a moment. “Your mother. What’s wrong with her?”

  “ALS,” I offered up, looking down at the beer in my hand. “Lou Gehrig’s.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said softly. “That’s got to be hard.”

  “She’s the backbone of our family,” I answered. “We will lose her one day, but I hope to keep her around for as long as I can.”

  Nat stretched out her legs toward me, her pink toenails mere inches from my leg.

  “Tell me about your family.”

  I chuckled.

  “There’s six boys. I’m the youngest. My parents were hippies back in their heyday, and we lived on a farm all my life.”

  “Wow,” she responded, her hands clasped against her stomach. “How on earth did you get with the Grim Legion then?”

  “Money,” I said matter of fact.

  It was the only reason I had gotten tangled with Jack Carry and the Legion. Now, they were like my family, and I would do anything for the old bastard.

  Nat didn’t respond, and I took another swallow of beer.

  “Why are you marrying that asshole?”

  She laughed hollowly.

  “I’ve been thinking more and more about that every day. I have to, much like the reason you took this job to begin with. It’s nothing but a name on a paper.”

  I eyed her.

  “Just a name? What about all that fairytale shit?”

  “That doesn’t exist in my world,” she said, her eyes searching mine. “I only have to survive, and marrying Bryan will help me survive.”

  I didn’t believe her. She wasn’t going to survive him nor was that marriage going to survive. Marrying Bryan would only bring her heartache.

  “You have other choices.”

  She let out a laugh.

  “Yeah, when you find one that works, let me know.” Her toe touched my leg, and I fought the urge to grab it. “Tell me about the woman your mother thought I was.”

  I knew it was coming. That slip from my mother had opened the chasm of questions that I was just waiting for her to ask.

  “What if I don’t want to?”

  “Oh, come on, Adam,” she begged.

  “One condition,” I started, looking at Nat. “You will tell me why you are marrying Bryan.”

  “Deal,” she said softly.

  I reached over and took her foot in my hands, pressing on the arch until she groaned.

  “God, that feels good.”

  “I give pretty good massages,” I replied with a chuckle, pressing my fingers into her foot. “Her name was Sarah. We went to high school together. She dumped me after I proposed to her for the rich kid in our class. End of story.”

  “Adam,” Nat breathed, her eyes sorrowful. “That bitch.”

  I chuckled.

  “I can’t disagree.”

  I had given her everything, saved up the money from my part
-time job to buy a tiny diamond to give to her on our senior prom night. She had laughed in my face, told me I was never going anywhere in my life, and informed me she had been cheating on me for months with the preppy quarterback of the football team.

  It was bad enough to be rejected, worse when she informed her friends, who spread the gossip like wildfire throughout the school.

  I had barely gotten through the rest of my senior season.

  “I can have her killed you know,” Nat said after a moment, offering up her other foot for me to start on. “They will never find her.”

  I shook my head, a grin on my face.

  “Don’t worry. She’s now divorced and living in a trailer.”

  I had run across her one night at the strip club, as the stripper no less. She had tried to apologize, but I had moved on, not wanting to go down that road again.

  “Serves her right,” Nat laughed, arching her foot against my hand. “You should go into business. I might even keep you on for your foot massages.”

  I looked over at Nat, giving her a wink.

  “Feet are not my only expertise.”

  Her lips parted, and I chuckled, pressing on her foot before moving it next to the other.

  “Any other questions?”

  I knew I had caught her off guard, but… Hell, my hands would love nothing more than to roam over her body lazily, along with my lips.

  It had been a mistake, going in there that night.

  “How did you get your nickname?”

  That one was easy and a hell of a lot less painful.

  “I had to be quick, with five older brothers. We all had animal nicknames from my mom.”

  “So, nothing to do with your red hair, huh?” Nat asked with a laugh.

  I shrugged.

  “Maybe just a little.”

  “I like it,” she answered. “My nickname growing up was ‘Little Princess’. I hate it.”

  I looked over at her. Here was this woman, still living in a lap of luxury because of her father’s money, and she didn’t think the nickname suited her?

  “I know what you are thinking,” Nat answered for me, rolling her eyes. “I’m a spoiled brat, a princess, but believe it or not, I want to be gone from this place. I want to be my own person.”

  “Hence marrying the asshole,” I finished for her.

  To my surprise, she didn’t correct me, biting her lower lip instead.

  “He knows why I am marrying him. We aren’t going into this marriage with any illusions of love and happiness.”

  “That sounds like a shitty way to start a marriage,” I responded.

  Nat sighed.

  “For someone like me, it’s the only way. Tell me, Fox, do you still believe in love?”

  I wanted to say that I didn’t. It was on the tip of my tongue to say that, but I knew I would be lying.

  “My father and mother have been married for nearly thirty years. Every day he wakes up with one goal in mind, and that’s to make it the best day for my mother, no matter how he feels or what it will take to get her there. If that is not love, then I am dead wrong on what love is.”

  Nat didn’t say anything, instead rising off the couch and coming to stand before me.

  “You, Adam Lawrence, are one lucky man.”

  I chuckled as our eyes met.

  “Maybe.”

  There was a gleam in her eye, and before I knew it, she was straddling me, her arms around my neck.

  “What are you doing, Nat?” I asked softly, as her fingers played with the ends of my shaggy hair.

  Her eyes searched mine, and I saw a rawness in their depths.

  “I’m looking for something, Fox. Something special.”

  One arm went around her to hold her in place.

  “What makes you think you will find it here?”

  “I don’t know where else to look.”

  I almost let her go. I wasn’t the type of man who enjoyed being used by any woman, much less the one I had craved from the moment we had laid eyes on each other. Her sob story had been genuine, and I believed her words. Nataliya was looking for something, something that she wouldn’t find with me.

  “I can’t give you anything.”

  Her lips curled in a soft smile, and her expression changed, the mask of a seductive woman sliding into place.

  “Oh, but I think you can, Fox.”

  This was not the woman I wanted to deal with.

  “Get off.”

  “Please,” she cooed, attempting to pull me closer. “Don’t make me leave.”

  I held her in check, my own blood raging through my veins. It would have been easy to fuck her and get it over with, to have those minutes where we both let go and forgot about everyone and everything around us.

  But I didn’t want that. If I was going to have her, I wanted the other side of Nat I had been exposed to, not this calculating woman she felt she had to be to get what she wanted.

  “Show me the real Nat or you can get the hell off.”

  “This is me,” she purred, her fingers drifting toward my jaw.

  I pulled her to the side, letting her fall on the couch.

  “This isn’t you.”

  Her eyes narrowed, but before she could say anything, footsteps sounded down the hall.

  “Shit,” she whispered, all seduction gone. “It’s Bryan. You have to leave.”

  “Hell no,” I answered, placing the beer on the side table before standing. I wasn’t running like some pussy. “Let me do the talking.”

  Bryan moved into my line of vision, a sneer on his face as he looked at me.

  “What the hell are you doing in here?”

  I stuck my hands in my pockets.

  “I’m checking on my client. What the hell are you doing here?”

  “She’s my damn fiancée,” he said, his eyes falling on Nat, who was reclining on the couch like nothing had happened.

  I shrugged.

  “I don’t give a shit. Take it up with her father if you don’t like it. I’ve been told to check in with her regularly, which is what I am doing.”

  Bryan’s face turned crimson red, and I nearly laughed aloud. The man was going to blow a gasket.

  “Fine,” he grated out. “But you are done for tonight. I will be staying the night. She will be fine.”

  Nat chose that moment to climb off the couch, crossing the room to her fiancé.

  “Bryan, please, I have a horrid headache. Can we just sleep in the bed tonight?”

  Bryan’s eyes were still on me as he slid an arm around her waist, pressing a kiss into her hair.

  “Of course, darling. Whatever you want. Good night, Mr. Lawrence.”

  I crossed over to the door.

  “I’ll just be down the hall if you need me.”

  Bryan’s angry squawk was all I needed to hear. I closed the door quickly. Let Nat explain that to her fiancé. That was what she deserved after what she had tried to do to me tonight. I didn’t like the woman who had attempted to seduce me.

  I liked the vulnerable beauty who had charmed my mom and ate her weight in breakfast. That was the woman I was interested in.

  And I would move hell to find her again.

  Chapter 9

  Nataliya

  “But what about gray? Isn’t that a popular color this year?”

  I rubbed my temples with my fingers, attempting to ward off the impending headache that was creeping in.

  “Isn’t grey a bit dark for a wedding?”

  My mother looked at me, a frown on her face.

  “Of course not, Nataliya. Gray is a color for any time of the year. After all, it would complement your bridesmaids’ attire.”

  I didn’t answer, seeing the look of disapproval she sent Alice’s way before turning back to her book.

  We were sitting in the living room, the wedding planner and her florist in attendance to hammer down the final details of the wedding. So far, we had wasted a good hour trying to decide the table runners for the guest tab
les and the color of the ribbon to tie on the back of the chairs.