Landon (In Safe Hands Book 1)
Page 5
A huge black SUV is pulled nose to nose with my little car, the hood already up. A smile breaks across Dare’s handsome face as he approaches me. “There’s the damsel in distress.”
Rolling my eyes, I fight back a grin. “Thanks for coming. I’m sorry Landon called you. I only called him because he lives so close. I guess he was busy.”
His expression darkens for a moment before he shakes it off and smiles. “I don’t mind. Pop your hood.”
He hooks up the jumper cables—I really should get a set—then nods at me. Give it a try. Relief pours through me when my engine roars to life. Just a dead battery. Thank fuck. “Thank you so much,” I exclaim.
“I’ll follow you to Landon’s,” he offers.
“You don’t have to do that.”
“But I’m going to.” He hops into his vehicle and stares at me expectantly.
Okay then. The car runs fine. After I’m parked in Landon’s driveway, I kill the engine and promptly restart it, relieved when it fires right up. The last thing I need is to be stranded here. Dare takes a load of purchases from my arms before I can protest, and helps me get all Landon’s new stuff in the house. A glance at my watch shows I’m nearly an hour late, but I was shopping for his shit, so that should count as work.
“Where to?” Dare asks, his arms full of bedding.
“Just toss it on the couch so I can sort through it.”
Landon saunters into the room wearing only a pair of sweatpants. I try to point my eyes away from his bare sculpted chest, but they seem to have a mind of their own, sneaking glances that aren’t even close to furtive.
“Everything okay?” he asks.
“Yep. Was just her battery.”
Dare smiles at me, and I grin back at him. What can I say? The guy grows on you. Landon glares at his friend. “You have the new list?” he snaps.
Dare waves a flash drive and Landon gestures to his office. “Then let’s get some shit done.”
Without a word thrown in my direction, he leads Dare down the hall. Damn, he’s grumpy today. After putting the new bedding into the wash, I head to the kitchen. Other than a few dirty dishes and crumbs, it isn’t too bad. I notice he ate the meals I left for him over the weekend.
It only takes me a few minutes to put together a pot roast with vegetables and pop it in the oven. I really want to finish off the guest rooms while it cooks. The old bedding and curtains get stripped and set aside for donation. A good dusting and vacuuming leave the rooms looking bare but clean.
The front door bangs shut and I turn to find Landon standing behind me. “I like the colors you chose,” he remarks, running a hand over the bedspread.
“Thank you.” I adjust the new curtain and tug them open, letting a rare ray of sunlight in. This house is always so dark.
The material is wrenched from my hand. He jerks the curtains closed so hard it’s a wonder they don’t rip. “Leave them closed!” he snaps.
It’s official. I’m working for Dr. Jekyll. “You need to watch how you talk to me. I’m not taking that shit no matter what you pay.” Turning my back on the finished room, I stalk to the kitchen to finish dinner. He wanders in just as I’m taking a pan of rolls from the oven.
“That smells fantastic. Eat with me,” he says, setting the table.
“No, thank you. I’m going to clean the bathrooms.”
His hand wraps lightly around my wrist. “I’m sorry I snapped at you. I haven’t had the best day. Please, eat with me.”
This man is driving me crazy. I’ve never met someone so mercurial. Sometimes he treats me like more than an employee, like a friend, and other times he seems annoyed I’m around. It’s confusing. “Fine,” I mumble, taking a seat across from him.
His blue-green eyes meet mine. “You’re doing a great job here, Zoe. You’ve really whipped the place into shape. It needed a woman’s touch.”
“Thank you. I enjoyed redecorating the bedrooms. I don’t decorate much at home.”
His eyes land on a cutting board on the counter full of chopped peppers. “You making something else?”
“I thought you might like an omelet for breakfast tomorrow. There are also pancakes in the freezer with directions for heating. They reheat well.”
My cheeks heat as he gazes at me. “You didn’t have to do that.”
Shrugging, I pay attention to my food. “I don’t mind. You said you don’t cook.” I know he only asked me to make a few dinners, but he seems to live on toaster pastries and frozen waffles, so I thought this would help. I don’t know why I give a shit what he eats, maybe because he’s helped me out.
“I make a mean grilled cheese,” he defends with a grin.
“I stand corrected.”
The next few weeks are hectic with Ethan going back to school. We finally get settled into our schedules and fall back into a routine. Landon has been behaving himself, no flirting with me or biting my head off. I’m a little surprised that Jason never calls me since I thought our date went well, but I don’t brood on it. My days are too full for a relationship anyway.
Chapter Four
Landon
For the past few weeks, I’ve been working in my office and then heading to Dare’s apartment as soon as it’s dark. After seeing Zoe with her boyfriend, and feeling like I wanted to kick the little weasel’s ass, I realized I’m in over my head. I shouldn’t be thinking of bending her over every piece of furniture in my house.
It’s not just that she’s sexy as fuck. She’s funny and sarcastic, and won’t take any shit from me. I know she works hard to take care of her brother while trying to keep up with her own education. She’s amazing, so I need to keep my distance.
Dare just moved into his apartment. I’d hate to live crammed in with so many neighbors, but I guess after spending two years in prison, it must feel like paradise to him. “Hey, asshole,” I greet, handing him a file folder. “Reports for the authorities.”
“Great. I’ll send them tonight.”
Glancing around the room, I remark, “You’re really packed in here.” Two large computer monitors sit on a desk along one wall, while another desk holds a third monitor and two servers. Wires loop and twist along the walls between them.
“Well, get your place ready, so we can move this shit.”
“I’m working on it.” Our operation has officially become too large to hide easily and the plan is to move everything to my house. We started ISH—In Safe Hands—eight years ago. Dare and I have been friends since we were kids and we both learned to hack as teenagers. We were shocked at the amount of perverts and predators lurking online, trying to lure children and abuse them or worse.
We met Jeremy and Justus online when we realized they were doing the same thing we were, trying to call attention to the predators and reporting them to the cops. Eventually, we all got together and formed ISH.
There’s two sides to our operation. The legal and illegal. I’m going to be honest, none of us are boy scouts. Dare may be the only one who has served time, but we’ve all done shit that could have landed us in prison. We just do it for the right reasons.
The authorities are happy to have our help, though they don’t know who we are and can’t track us. Some offenders, though, don’t get reported. There are some people who don’t deserve to take one more breath, and sometimes it takes a criminal to stop a criminal.
Jeremy is typing furiously, his eyes on the large monitor in front of him. “I’ve got you now, you sick bastard,” he mutters.
I know better than to talk to him when he’s in the zone. He won’t hear a word. “Justus working tonight?”
“I don’t know, why? You want to go see him shake his ass?”
“Pass.”
A smart ass grin stretches across Dare’s face. “Where are you going to hide from your little maid when we work at your place?”
Shit. Is it that obvious? “I’m not hiding from shit. I just stopped by to drop off the files,” I lie.
“Uh-huh, like I said, you need
her off your hands, just bring her to me.”
“Fuck off, Dare,” I call back, heading out the door. Now, where am I going to go?
It’s past nine when I get back home, and the house smells fantastic. Zoe is sitting at the kitchen table, eating, with an e-reader in front of her.
She jumps to her feet when I enter, obviously surprised I’m back so soon. “Hey, I was just grabbing a bite. There’s chicken fettucine on the stove.”
“Sounds good. Sit. Eat.”
She takes her seat and returns to her food while I make a plate and sit across from her. “The place looks great.”
“Thanks.”
“Why don’t you relax for a bit? We can watch a movie.” What the hell am I doing? I’m supposed to be avoiding her. Her eyebrows jump and she regards me quietly. “What?”
“You haven’t said two words to me in weeks. What’s the matter? Bored tonight?”
Why does she always have to give me shit? “I’ve been busy with work.”
“I figured you were pissed,” she says with a shrug.
If she only knew. “Why would I be pissed? You’re doing a great job. Now, quit being difficult and come watch a movie with me.”
“Well, since that was almost a nice invitation, fine.”
Zoe chooses a comedy, and I sit beside her on the couch to watch. Somehow, we manage to move closer to each other until her leg is pressed against mine. Screw it. I put my arm around her shoulder, and she leans against my chest as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. I’m barely paying attention to the movie. I’m too distracted by her. She smells amazing, not flowery or drowning in perfume like most women, but natural with a light scent of citrus. The skin on her arm is soft and warm. What the hell is wrong with me? Am I seriously turned on by her arm?
Her musical laughter makes me smile, even though I missed the joke. When she sees me looking at her, she gazes at me, licking her lips in invitation. I’m a centimeter away from kissing her when there’s a loud knock at the door.
“Open up, asshole! It’s raining!” Jeremy yells. Shit. Damn it all.
Zoe jumps to her feet as if touching me may burn her. “I should finish up a few things before I go,” she says, darting into the kitchen.
“This better be good,” I growl as Jeremy follows me into my office.
A smile reaches across his face. “Did I interrupt something?”
“My night of peace and quiet. Now, what’s up?”
“He took the bait.” A black folder slaps onto the desk in front of me and I pick it up.
Anger rushes through me as I read the contents. “Son of a bitch. You called this one right. I take it we aren’t going to trouble the cops with this one?”
Jeremy shakes his head. “Fuck no. Justus is already on it. I need the new program you wrote.”
After a quick glance at the door, I pull up a fake floorboard to retrieve a flash drive. “Install it, then delete it from the drive. It’ll get you in any system you need.”
Jeremy puts the drive in his pocket. “Do you want to go grab a drink?”
All I want is to get back to Zoe. “Not tonight.”
“Got other plans?” he taunts with a knowing smile, heading for the door. “Have a good night, Zoe,” he calls out when I ignore him.
“Good night,” Zoe replies without leaving the kitchen.
Chuckling, he pulls the door closed behind him. Asshole.
Zoe is preparing to leave when I return to the living room. “I know it’s a little early, but I’m finished, so I’m going to go if you don’t care.” Her expression is wary as I approach her.
“You don’t have to run. I won’t touch you if you don’t want me to.” I smile at her. “But it seemed like you wanted me to.”
Sighing, she shakes her head. “It doesn’t matter what I want. I need this job.”
“So, what, you think I’ll fire you if something happens between us?”
“No, but nothing can happen. I won’t be paid by a man I’m fucking. I’m not a whore.”
Her eyes widen as I lay a finger under her chin. “I never thought you were.”
“I just…we can be friends, but that’s it.” Her chin sticks out, and I almost laugh at her stubborn attitude.
“If that’s what you want.” She closes her eyes when I kiss her forehead. “Be careful driving home.”
Nodding, she grabs her purse and makes a beeline for the door. “See you tomorrow.”
Silence descends, feeling thicker than usual. Friends. Damn it.
* * * *
My phone beeps just past midnight with a message from Dare.
-Justus needs help at farm.-
Shit. That was fast. This isn’t how I wanted to spend my night.
-On my way.-
This is the worst part of my job. And I do see working with Dare and the other guys as my job. But I hate this part. I guess I’d have to be a monster not to despise it. I change into a ratty pair of jeans and an old T-shirt before hopping into my car.
It’s an hour and a half drive to the farm south of the city and despite what I’m heading there to do, I enjoy the drive. I live my life at night, but this is what I think of as true night. Stars shine in the black sky, only shuttered by a random cloud blowing by. The air is warm and thick with the scent of honeysuckle and fresh cut grass. So different than the constant light and stench of the city.
True night. Where you can hear an owl hoot or a coyote howl. Where the cry of a loon and the smell of fresh water signals that I’m near the lake. Where I feel the most alive. I should bring Zoe out here one night and show her this world.
A long gravel driveway winds through the woods, ending in front of a large farmhouse. I pull up behind Justus’s truck. “Hey,” he calls, jumping down from the cab.
My stomach cramps as I get out of my car, but I ignore it. I have to man up. Shit has to be done. “He still in the back?”
“Yep. Heavy son of a bitch, too.”
“Well, let’s put those stripper muscles to good use.” I climb into the back of his white box truck, and he follows.
“Fuck off, Dracula.” He turns on the light and the empty truck brightens. It looks empty to anyone who doesn’t know what to look for. Justus runs a hand down a nearly invisible seam in the front wall and pulls away a panel, revealing a space just large enough to fit his cargo.
A limp hand falls out of the makeshift shroud he’s wrapped the body in, and a shiver runs down my spine. We’re way out in the boonies and the chance of getting caught is extremely low, but if a cop were to stumble on us now, it wouldn’t matter who the guy was or why Justus killed him.
The police are happy to work with us to locate child predators, but I’m sure they wouldn’t come to our defense if they knew we track down and dispose of the worst of the worst. The ones who repeat offend. Or go after pre-pubescent kids. The ones you know will never stop what they’re doing. This sick fuck, for example, was trying to buy an eight year old girl, and not for the first time.
He’s an ex-con who has done ten years for raping a five year old girl and choking her until she nearly died, and another five for a separate attempt to kidnap a third grade girl. We’ve had an eye on him since he was released last month and it didn’t take long for him to take the bait and try to buy a child. Thankfully, we were the ones doing the selling and no actual girl was ever in danger. It’s clear he’ll never stop targeting little girls, so I don’t have any moral compunction when it comes to taking him out. Or Justus taking him out.
This isn’t something we do on a regular basis. I don’t kill. Even though I don’t have a problem with this, I just don’t have it in me. Dare and Justus take care of the dirty work. I mainly track the predators, chat with them and gain their trust until they reveal their depravity. And occasionally help dispose of a body.
Suppressing a shudder, I grab the guy’s legs and we manage to get him out of the truck. As we approach the farmhouse, Jed walks onto the porch. The thwack of the screen door slamming
shut makes me jump. “I got her all set for you boys,” he says.
We own the farm, though it can’t be tracked back to us on paper, and Jed keeps the place up for us. “Appreciate it. How have you been, Jed?”
“Can’t complain. You boys come in for a drink before you go.”
“Will do,” I reply as we carry the corpse past him and towards the barn. A large industrial wood chipper waits behind the barn, a bag already attached to catch the “clippings”. Justus gets the unfortunate job of stripping the body while I build a fire in a large metal drum. Once it’s roaring, in go the dead man’s clothes and the rug he was wrapped in.
Now for the body. Justus turns on the chipper, and I help him tilt the man’s body in head first. It’s a good thing we’re far away from people because the sound of the wood chipper eating away at bone and flesh is deafening. It doesn’t take long for the corpse to be completely shredded, the remains landing in the collection bag.
A chipper doesn’t get rid of everything, even if you were to run the remains through it more than once, so our next stop is the barn. I gag on the smell of blood as we detach the bag and carry it to the pig trough. The asshole isn’t any lighter just because he’s ground up. The sloshing sound that echoes across the night when we dump the human soup into the trough will haunt me forever. Apparently, it sounds appetizing to the hogs that instantly crowd in to, well, pig out.
Justus tosses the collection bag into the fire and adds a little gasoline before we head inside the house. “All done?” Jed asks, pouring us each a tumbler of bourbon.
“Pigs are fed. Do you mind if I crash on your couch for a few hours? I need to bleach down the trough and chipper, plus make sure everything burned,” Justus explains.
“No problem.” Jed is pushing sixty, but sharp as ever. We met him a few years ago, well, tracked him down, actually. It was all over the news that someone was killing sex offenders, just making their way down the registry. He would’ve been caught and spent the rest of his life locked up if we hadn’t found him first.