His Devil's Rage

by Linzi Basset

  His breathing turned haggard and shallow as he grew weaker and weaker. He looked out toward the rippling water, a final glance as his breath staggered through his chest.

  “I don’t … deserve to die … not here.” He looked at Bruce, silhouetted against a void that surrounded him—the darkness of death that winked at Reece. “I’m not ready … I d-on’t want to … die,” he gurgled on his own blood; the light in his eyes shimmered as it faded … and then … nothing.

  “An appropriate ending,” Bruce uttered without blinking.

  “Now, the future winks. Finally,” Rhone said as the first real smile broke through after years of suppressing his true nature.

  They looked at each other, high fived, and their jubilant cry of victory shattered the silence outside.

  “Oohaah!”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Two weeks later …

  “You are the best assistant we could ever have asked for, Savannah. How you manage to get the first fresh batch from that bakery every day, I’ll never know but my hungry belly thanks you, all the same.” Jack moaned, rolling his eyes with delight as he bit into the decadent chocolate croissant.

  “You’re always hungry, Jack. I pity poor Jordan being the unlucky one to have to feed you for the rest of her life.” Max laughed. Jack’s appetite was a constant joke among the friends.

  Rhone leaned back in the chair, stretching his legs out under the table in Precision Secure’s boardroom. He looked around the room, feeling the love and camaraderie abound among the men gathered there, chatting and joking animatedly. Bruce had recovered quickly from the knife wound and seemed relaxed as he watched the banter between Max and Jack.

  Peace flowed through Rhone's mind like the ripple of a sparkling stream over a cobbled riverbed. For the first time in years, he felt trouble free. The past year had been a learning curve for him, teaching him to trust and open his heart. The love he found as a result was the only way he finally achieved true peace. A vision of Samantha in the rearview mirror waving him goodbye that morning as he left for work, flashed through his mind.

  He slammed on the brakes and turned to stare. He couldn’t take his eyes off the small bulge of her stomach where his child rested. He got out, ran back to her and kissed her until her knees wobbled.

  “I love you, Samantha Frazer.” He uttered the words without thought and watched her eyes fill with tears. It was the first time he’d said it and it filled his heart with wonder. He smiled broadly. “I do, baby. I love you.”

  She cupped his cheeks and smiled through her tears. “I never doubted that but it means so much to hear you say the words.”

  After years of roaming around with loneliness in his soul, her selfless love offered him the nirvana his soul had been craving for years.

  “Is Karen and her son safe now, Rhone?” Bruce’s deep voice yanked him back to the present. He straightened and grabbed the last pastry just as Jack reached for it.

  “Damn, should’ve taken it earlier,” Jack muttered in a pretend rebuff.

  Rhone bit into the delicacy to filter through his thoughts. He’d found it hard to believe that Karen Norwood would’ve betrayed his loyalty and he’d been right. When he’d arrived at her doorstep the day after they’d ended The Sixth Order’s reign of terror, she’d burst into tears the moment she opened the door.

  “I still find it hard to believe that Reece could be that heartless to keep her child from her and forced her to do his bidding,” Alex said darkly.

  “Jessica Simmons turned state witness and unlocked all the Sixth Order files, which helped us to shut down their operation for good. It was a blessing that she had enough heart left to disclose the location where he was placed,” Rhone said as he gulped down his latte. “They were reunited and Brett seemed to have recovered from the ordeal, thank God, without having a relapse. At least Jessica ensured that he was kept in an environment that catered for his lung condition.”

  “Pity we can’t say the same about Roy Silver. He let himself be swayed by money and greed,” Lance said in a dark voice, recalling that it had been his unpleasant task to deal with the obnoxious young man who showed so much potential when he’d started under his tutelage in Los Angeles already.

  “At a guess, I’d say Reece and Jaden roped him in before we even left L.A.,” Ethan mused aloud. “Anyone for more coffee?” He did the rounds and filled everyone up.

  “Hopefully, this will show the rest of our staff to come to us should anyone blackmail them into capitulation.” Bruce turned to Keon. “How’s little Jake?”

  Keon’s face softened with a proud, fatherly smile brightening his features. “Basking in his big sister’s attention. That little miss is spoiling him so much, he’s going to end up a brat, mark my words.”

  “And Jaxon, Ethan? I can’t imagine it’s easy keeping him in bed now that he’s at home,” Rhone said, leaning his elbows on the table.

  “I stopped trying but at least he listens to Paige. They have formed such a strong bond ever since the shooting that I sometimes feel left out.” He smiled and waved his hand in the air. “But I’m not complaining. My son is alive, little Hope is growing in leaps and bounds inside her mommy’s belly. Life is good.”

  “God, I can’t wait for Joanne to pop,” Max said. “She’s so grumpy nowadays, I’m too scared to even say good morning to her until she’s had at least a gallon of coffee.”

  “I warned her about that, Max,” Ethan said with a frown.

  “You try and keep her away from what she refers to as her life source. I’ve given up. I’m just hanging on by my teeth at the moment,” he said surly but a broad smile vanished his grouchiness. “I can’t wait to meet little Maxine.”

  Jack scoffed in amusement. “Dream on, mate. There’s no way Joanne will name her little princess after you.”

  “Wanna bet?” Max stuck out his hand.

  A commotion at the door ended their banter. “You can’t just walk in there! Sir!” Savannah walked in backward, doing her best to keep the large man at bay. She spun around, “I’m sorry, Rhone. I tried,” she bleated in exasperation.

  Rhone got up and walked around the table with his hand held out. “Colt! Now, this is a pleasant surprise.” He smiled at Savannah. “It’s okay, he’s a friend.”

  She tsked, and with a toss of her hair stomped away.

  Everyone greeted Colt Fargo, owner of Club Wicked Cove in Jacksonville, Texas, with smiling faces. All except Jack. He glowered at him. “What the fuck do you want?” he snapped in a dark voice.

  All eyes turned to stare at Jack, shocked by the animosity oozing from him. Colt’s lips twisted in a tight smile. “So, you know.”

  “Know what? What’s going on?” Keon asked with a black frown forming on his face. Rhone and Keon had known Colt for years and had done many covert ops with him and his team.

  “Why don’t you enlighten them … Don Damiano,” he sneered with growing anger. He’d been battling to keep the knowledge to himself ever since William Seely had told him who the new Don of the Occhipintis was. He’d intended to investigate it once the excitement over The Sixth Order had diminished.

  “It’s not exactly true,” Colt drawled, his Texas accent more pronounced than ever.

  “You better sit down,” Rhone stood, watching him with arms crossed. He waited patiently, not one to judge too quickly, but Jack wouldn’t have sucked something like that out of his thumb.

  “As you know, my team has been working closely with the DEA to clamp down on drug distribution over the past couple of years. When Homeland Security Secretary, Sheena Ogilvy, contacted me with the suspicions about a coalition between the U.S. Mafia and the Russian Mafia, I immediately refused to be part of it.” Colt glanced at Alex. “This was before you became involved.”

  “Yes, because at first, we believed it was no more than rumors, until our undercover agent made contact with Vladimir Alenichev.”

  “I know. By then, we had already implemented the strategy we agreed with the Secreta
ry.”

  “You mean, you infiltrated the Bratva under the pretense that you returned to the Occhipinti mafia as Don Damiano?” The dark look on Jack’s face slowly began to fade. Colt had been forcibly taken from his parents by his biological father at sixteen, who trained him as his successor of the formidable Occhipinti mafia family.

  “Yes. Vladimir had no reason to doubt me. We met a couple of times when I was younger. The entire idea behind the MOKV was a setup. It was easy to find a corrupt official already in bed with The Sixth Order who was too eager to convey the massive advantage a syndicate or the mafia would have if they could get their hands on it.”

  Alex frowned. “In other words, they never really stole the original designs?”

  “No. Unfortunately, your young agent got caught in the crossfire.”

  Everyone went quiet. They still hadn’t been able to find any sign of Sean Scott.

  “I still haven’t told Paige. I keep hoping he’ll arrive on our doorstep.”

  “That’s why I’m here. Sean is alive and recovering well. We’ve been aware of every move the Bratva delegation made since they arrived in the U.S.”

  Ethan sat forward. “Where is he?”

  “For now, we’re keeping it under wraps. Tasha Alenichev is still at large. Until she’s either back under her father’s control or caught on U.S. soil.” Colt silenced Ethan’s protest with a wave of his hand. “It’s better this way. Tasha knows you are Sean’s family. As long as she believes he’s dead, the safer all of you would be.”

  “God, I can’t believe this entire saga is finally over,” Lance said.

  “Not entirely, but hopefully soon. To strengthen the story, we’ve leaked Sean’s death and involvement as an undercover agent with the government to the media. You need to discuss it with Paige and Jaxon before it airs tonight.” Colt got to his feet. He looked at Jack. “There’s no way in hell I’d ever become involved with the mafia again. William Seely was as corrupt as they come and only too happy to double cross The Sixth Order. I’m glad you rid us of him.”

  “He was filth and hopefully burning in hell.” Jack stood up and shook Colt’s hand. “You did good. Not many people can get one over the Bratva.”

  “Are you here alone?” Rhone asked as he walked him to the door.

  “No, the entire team and their spouses are here. We’re planning to join you at Club Devil’s Cove tonight. If your open invitation is still standing.”

  “Of course, it’ll be nice having you.”

  Silence descended in the room as the door closed behind Colt.

  “Damn, what the hell are we gonna do now?” Max finally asked.

  “Shut up, Maximilian. Don’t put a hex on a future devoid of crime and criminals. I, for one, am going to bask in the glory of love and happiness.”

  The door slammed open. A blushing Samantha stepped inside. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  Rhone frowned at her. “Again Samantha? I would’ve thought by now you'd know better than to interrupt our meetings.”

  “Normally I wouldn’t, but this is important.”

  She reached his chair just as he was about to rise. She slinked down onto his lap. His frown deepened. His testosterone reacted to her closeness in a warm tingle in his loins.

  “Samantha,” he said warningly as she wiggled closer.

  “I’ve got some news … and I’m not sure how you’re going to react.”

  “So, you thought to tell me hoping to be protected by my friends?”

  She dimpled as she glanced over her shoulder at the men watching with broad smiles on their lips.

  “Well, I thought it might help.”

  “So? Am I supposed to guess?”

  “I … ehm … we need to go to the baby store.”

  Rhone rolled his eyes but a smile broadened his features. “Honey, there’s already enough clothes for our baby until he’s two years old. At this rate, I’ll have to add another closet in the room.” Rhone firmly believed they were expecting a boy and nothing anyone said could sway him.

  A becoming blush spread over her cheeks.

  “You might have to anyway.” She leaned closer and kissed him lingeringly. “The OBGYN just confirmed it, my love. We’re having twins.”

  “Oohah!” Max shouted. “Way to go, mate.”

  Rhone stared at Samantha, his heart overrun with warmth, borne from the vision of her with his son and daughter nestling against her chest.

  “Rhone?” Samantha asked with bated breath.

  “A son and a daughter to brighten my days. I couldn’t have asked for a better present,” He smiled as she rolled her eyes. His fingers stopped the protest that formed on her lips. “Don’t bother trying to tell me I’m wrong. I know I’m right. A little boy for you and a little replica of her gorgeous mother for me. It’s the best honor you’ve bestowed on me … entrusting me with your heart.” He kissed her, whispering against her lips, “I love you, heart of my life.”

  Samantha’s heart filled with love as she gazed into his eyes, unaware of the rest of the men quietly leaving the room, spurred on by Rhone waving them out.

  “I’ll never get tired of hearing those words, my love, but there’s one thing I’d like even more than the words.”

  “Which is?”

  “Show me.”

  Rhone didn’t have to be asked twice.

  Four weeks later … on a luxury yacht in Key West

  “Good morning, Mrs. Rickett, time to get this cute little ass out of bed.”

  “Hmm,” Morgan moaned as she basked in the warm lips that trailed over the curve of her spine, placing soft, moist kisses along the way. “Oww!” she squealed and flipped over, glaring at her brute of a husband with wounded eyes. He loved taking bites out of her ass, even at the most inopportune moments. The glimmering amusement in his eyes dared her to sass him.

  His one eyebrow inched higher, and her breathing faltered. After all this time, her libido still reacted every time he flashed the bad boy smile that promised so much pleasure.

  “You have an unhealthy appetite for my ass, Mr. Rickett.”

  “Nothing that tastes that succulent can be unhealthy, baby. As a matter of fact … seeing as you’re so accommodating to stay in bed, I think it’s time for some dessert … cherry flavored, in fact.”

  Morgan’s brows drew together. Cherry dessert? This time of morning? She opened her mouth to list the reasons why such a sweet dessert was unhealthy this early when the wicked gleam in his eyes registered. Her eyes widened as the penny dropped. She held out her hand as she gingerly shuffled backward, keeping her buttocks firmly pressed into the mattress.

  “Oh no, I’m getting up. Bruce … don’t you come any closer.” She pushed upright against the headboard. “You promised to take me snorkeling this morning.”

  “Hmm … and I will. Later. Much …” his hand circled her ankle and slowly dragged her lower, “much,” another yank, “much later.”

  Her meager struggles were no match for his strength and when his hard body settled between her legs, his hard shaft rubbing against her already pulsing clitoris, her resistance crumbled. She gasped at the swirls of emotion she saw in his eyes. Love encased with open lust and desire. Her mind was still wrapping around the warmth it brought to her heart when he covered her mouth in a hungry kiss. Morgan moaned into his mouth, feeling like she was walking on air. He was a magician, the way his lips took possession of hers; a soft caress that was gentler than she could have imagined. The intimacy of the kiss heated her body like a flash fire.

  “You are insatiable,” she lilted as his lips trailed over her chest, circling her nipples with soft licks. They tightened into hard stones as she arched her back in wanton invitation. Bruce didn’t need any urging. His lips closed around a taut peak, tugging sensually before he sucked it deep inside his mouth.

  Her hips canted against his in reaction to the hard tugging and nibbling on each nipple, helplessly caught in the shards of arousal that stabbed her loins.

&nb
sp; “You are beautiful, baby, and the reason for the hunger consuming my every waking moment.” He traced her lips. “Only you can appease it, my love … with your body and your love.”

  Morgan was lost in the heat of his body and soul that wrapped itself around hers. She gazed into his eyes. He had become her savior. He was more than a beautiful man, every emotion came from deep within; it made her want to feel how his lips moved in a kiss, how his hands traced the curves of her body. She had no doubt that over time, lines would deepen upon his face but he’d be more handsome still because within him shone his generous, loving soul.

  Then all thoughts fled her mind. He left a wet trail of kisses over her stomach to flick his tongue against the soft skin above her clitoris. It tightened and swelled in reaction, crackling like an electric current, anticipating his next touch. His hands weren’t idle either as he traced the outline of her thighs, the roundness of her knees, gently squeezing the softness of her cheeks before he stroked the swollen puffiness of her labia. A delighted gasp escaped her lips as his fingers slipped inside. Her mouth fell open as he brushed and caressed that special spot, toggling and jiggling it. His eyes glimmered as her pelvis canted in tight orbits against his face. She thrust her hips against his prodding fingers, begging for more.

  “Bruce,” she moaned, “what you do to me.”

  His mouth closed around her clit; a stuttering sob escaped from her throat. With a carnal growl, he sucked the taut nub into his mouth and finessed it with a swirling tongue.

  “Baby, you’re so damn hot,” he groaned and buried his face in her pussy. His tongue lashed deeply at the constant exudations, greedily lapping at her juices, leaving her defenseless against the tactile onslaught. He dipped his head lower and circled her clitoris with his tongue, drawing loops in tight twists and turns over the fleshy and swollen hood. He pressed his lips tight around the nub and sucked hard, in tandem with his fingers plunging inside her. Her scream thrilled through him as a climax rippled through her. She was still gasping for breath when he flipped her over and dragged her onto her knees.