CONTROLLING BROOKS (Gray Wolf Security Book 4)

by Glenna Sinclair

  “Still have it.”

  “You need to get rid of it. And your cell phones, too. Anything Alvarez or the police can use to trace you.”

  “Okay. Then what?”

  “Then you need to find a cheap motel somewhere in another town where you can pay cash for a room. Hold out there for tonight then call me in the morning from an untraceable phone and I’ll come get you, take you to a safe house.”

  “She has a prepaid cell.”

  “That’ll work.” Kipling read out his phone number to me three times, making me repeat it back to him. I almost felt like a kindergartner learning his number in case he got lost at the fair. “Just make sure you get rid of anything that can be traced back to you.”

  “Of course.”

  “And there’s something else you should think about.”

  “What’s that?”

  “That cop we are working with says that Austin police department has been trying to make a case against Alvarez for a couple of years now, but that he’s been way too careful for them to make anything stick here in the states. So, even though everyone knows who he is and what he’s doing, they can’t arrest him. But he was thinking that his wife might know a few things.”

  I groaned. “He wants Brooks to turn against him.”

  “He does. And if she does, not only can they arrest Alvarez and get him off your ass, but the charges against you would be dropped. Otherwise, helping you means were technically aiding and abetting a felon.”

  I nodded even though he couldn’t see me. “What if she doesn’t know anything?”

  “Then she doesn’t. But she can tell the cops that you didn’t take her against her will.”

  I glanced back at the diner again. I could see Brooks sitting at a table in the back, her eyes the only ones on me now. She lifted a hand by way of greeting, but there was no joy in it. Only concern.

  “I’ll have to talk to her about it.”

  “No problem. You can let me know in the morning.”

  I ended the call a moment later and walked back to the SUV. I tossed my phone inside, patting my pockets, trying to think of anything else I might have that could allow us to be traced. There was my wallet…I slipped out all the cash I had and my driver’s license. There were credit cards, some business, some personal, all traceable. A couple of personal photos left over from my time overseas. I took out one or two that meant something and left the rest.

  I walked into the diner and ducked into the men’s room. I washed my face, staring at myself in the mirror for a long moment. I looked like a man in need of a long night’s sleep. I ran my fingers through my hair, then dropped my keys beside the sink before slipping back out into the diner. I sat beside Brooks on the same side of the booth, sliding my hand into hers.

  “You should eat.”

  “I ordered some coffee.”

  “You need something more substantial.”

  She rested her head on my shoulder. “I think I’d rather go somewhere quiet and order a pizza.”

  I kissed the top of her head just as the waitress came over. She set a cup of coffee in front of Brooks and smiled at me. “Can I get you anything, sweetie?”

  “A cheeseburger would be awesome.”

  “Great. Fries?”

  I nodded. She turned and walked away, glancing back once before disappearing behind the counter.

  “You okay? Are you hurting?”

  She sighed. “It’s more emotional hurt that anything else right now, I think.”

  “We need to hang out here for a little while, then we’ll head out, get a room at some cheap motel.”

  “Okay.”

  “You going to make it that long?”

  She nuzzled closer to me. “I feel better already.”

  I turned toward her and lifted her chin so I could see her face. The red mark on her cheek was beginning to turn a soft purple in the center. The cut on her lip was slightly swelled, but not enough for anyone to notice. I kissed it softly, my hand sliding over her arm and down to her hip. She moved closer to me, returning the kiss with as much passion as she’d had to offer the night before. That was a promising sign.

  I broke the kiss even as I slid my hand under the back of her shirt. I could feel heat on the small of her back, but couldn’t feel any swelling. She didn’t flinch as I touched her. That was good.

  I watched as my SUV pulled out of the parking lot, a stranger at the wheel. My cell phone and credit cards would be headed north, it looked like, leading whoever might be after us on a wild goose chase.

  “It’s going to be okay,” I told her, believing it now more than I had twenty minutes ago.

  Gray Wolf would get us out of this.

  Chapter 13

  At the Compound

  David watched Detective Aaron Snider pace the length of his office, a phone pressed to his ear. He was trying to convince his bosses that Elliott Wallace was acting in his capacity as a bodyguard when he took Brooks Holliday Alvarez from her husband’s home at gunpoint. David didn’t think the man’s boss was buying it.

  David had worked with Detective Snider on two cases previous to this. The first was when their client, Tierney Michaels—she was now their legal liaison, but she’d been a junior partner with a local law firm at the time—was being harassed by a young client and his friends. The second was when his operative, Ingram Porter, got himself caught up in a murder plot that involved his wife and father-in-law. Although David had great respect for the police and had even worked closely with two separate police departments as part of his position with the Gray Wolf home office in Santa Monica, he had hoped it would be more than a few weeks before he had to call on Detective Snider again.

  Snider disconnected the call and turned to him.

  “So, they’ve agreed to delay the APB, but only until morning. So, if I don’t hear from your man by ten tomorrow morning, there will be a warrant issued and he will be actively pursued by the police.”

  David inclined his head. “I understand.”

  “Your people talked to him.”

  “They did.” Kipling had sent David a text a few minutes ago, filling him in on the conversation he’d had with Elliott. He wasn’t about to tell the detective that Kipling had instructed Elliott to rid himself of all traceable items and hide in a motel, but it might be helpful for him to know that Elliott was aware of the deal he’d brokered for him and Mrs. Alvarez.

  “I’m hoping he will be able to convince Mrs. Alvarez to give us what she knows about her husband. If she refuses…” Snider shook his head. “This might not go well for your man. If Alvarez and his people find them first, neither of them will ever have a chance to turn this thing around.”

  “I know.” David leaned back on his desk, thinking about Elliott. He was a quiet man, but likeable enough. He’d come through quite a few times when it really mattered for Gray Wolf. The least they could do was do the same for him. “I think he will.”

  Snider nodded. “Well, give me a call when your man hears from him again.”

  “I will.”

  David walked Snider out, then went upstairs to the second floor apartment where his wife and son waited for him. Chase was already asleep, but Ricki was curled up on the couch in the sitting room, a book laying open on her swollen belly.

  “Hey,” she said when David slipped onto the couch behind her.

  “You should have gone to bed.”

  “It’s early.”

  “Not that early. Besides, you’re sleeping for two.”

  She smiled. “I suppose I am.”

  He ran his hand over her belly, anxious for the moment when the baby kicked hard enough for him to feel. She was already feeling little flutters here and there, but he had yet to catch one. He remembered the first time he felt Chase kick. It had been one of the best days of his life, second only to the day he married Ricki.

  “I love you,” he whispered against her temple.

  She turned slightly, touching the side of his face. “You’re worried.”r />
  He shrugged. “Elliott’s got himself in deep, I’m afraid.”

  “He was protecting that woman. Isn’t that what he was there for?”

  “It is. But if he can’t convince that woman to come forward and share what she knows with the police, he might face charges on kidnapping. And that’s not a joke.”

  “I know. But I’m guessing that he pulled her out of that house to save her and she’ll be more than happy to tell the police that much, at least.”

  “I hope so.”

  She smiled. “You’re such a good father. Always so worried about all your little chicks.”

  He laughed. “I don’t think you should let Elliott hear you call him a chick. Or Alexander. Or Ingram. Or Knox, even.”

  “Why not? They already know.”

  David sighed, drawing her even closer to him.

  “What else is worrying you?”

  “We have to hire a new operative. I can’t…I don’t know what I’m doing, Ricki.”

  “You did fine hiring the others.”

  “Yeah, well, if I hadn’t hired Tony, we wouldn’t be in this position.”

  “One bad penny in a large collection. Big deal.”

  He shook his head. “I just…I don’t want to make a mistake and hire someone who’s going to put the others in danger.”

  “Why don’t you ask Kipling for his input?”

  David hesitated. “I don’t want Kipling to feel like I’m leaning on him with every administrative decision there is to make.”

  “I don’t feel that way.”

  David and Ricki both sat up, a little surprised to hear the deep voice interrupting their conversation. They were still getting used to having Kipling, Ingram, and Bailey sharing their private space.

  “Sorry,” David said. “I didn’t realize you were up here.”

  “I’m the one who should apologize. I’m intruding on you.”

  “You’re not intruding.” David slipped out from under Ricki and walked over to his consultant. “I wanted to thank you with your help with this Elliott mess.”

  “It’s my pleasure.” Kipling laid his hand on David’s shoulder, offering him the friendly pat of a father or older brother. “You handled the situation perfectly. I was just your supporting cast.”

  David shook his head. “You brought the whole thing to me. I appreciate that.”

  Kipling just nodded. “Well, hopefully we’ll be able to get Elliott and the woman into a safe house in the morning and this thing will resolve itself.”

  “Hopefully.”

  Kipling stood there awkwardly for a moment, then inclined his head to Ricki. “Goodnight, Mrs. Grayson.”

  “Please, it’s been months. Call me Ricki.”

  Kipling smiled. “Ricki.”

  He started to turn, but David stopped him with a small clearing of his throat. “When all this is over,” he said, “I’d greatly appreciate your input on the hiring of a new operative.”

  “Of course,” Kipling said. “I already gave you my recommendations…”

  “I’ve called three of them in for an interview. If you could sit in, that would be great.”

  Kipling nodded. “Of course. Anything I can do to help.”

  David watched him walk away; he reminded him of his brother, Ash. Kipling and Ash shared a lot of qualities, not the least of which was a deep sense of loyalty. And that was a good thing in this business.

  David went back to sit with his wife.

  “I think I’ll ask Kipling to stay on in some sort of permanent role.”

  Ricki smiled. “I think that’s a great idea.”

  Chapter 14

  Brooks

  For reasons it took me longer than it should have to understand, Elliott left the SUV in the diner parking lot and called a taxi to take us to Temple. Then we backtracked a little, taking a room at a tiny motel in Nolanville. I stood out on the sidewalk while Elliott rented the room, pacing a little because my back was beginning to stiffen up from the car ride. When he appeared again, I smiled gratefully, anxious to get inside somewhere.

  “We’re in the back,” he said, slipping his arm around me as he led the way down the cracked sidewalk to our assigned room. Once inside, I wanted to cry when I saw the bed. I was so tired! But before the relief was fully felt, I had to watch Elliott walk around and check all the nooks and crannies, reminding me once again that we were on the run from my husband.

  What had I gotten us into? How were we going to get out of this?

  Elliott stashed the gun he’d hidden under his jacket in the side table near the bed, then came to me.

  “How are you?” he asked, taking my face between both his hands. He ran his thumb over my bottom lip where I could still feel a raw place from where Juan’s ring caught. “Are you hurting?”

  “I’m a little sore.”

  He nodded, this dark anger flashing in his eyes briefly. “Why don’t you take a shower while I go find you some aspirin.”

  I didn’t want him to go. I slid my hand over the front of his shirt, catching my fingers in the place between the buttons on the button down he was wearing. He studied my face, concern replacing every other emotion that had been burning in his perfect green eyes.

  “I wanted to kill him,” he said softly.

  “I know.”

  “And then you laughed at him, and I was certain he’d kill you. The look on his face was absolutely murderous.”

  “I thought so, too. But I didn’t think I had much left to lose.”

  He lifted my face to his. “If he’d pulled his gun, there would have been no stopping me.”

  He leaned in to kiss me, his lips trembling just a little. I sighed against him, moving my arms up around his neck. I wanted to hold him close and disappear in the circle of his arms. I wanted to forget there was danger outside these four walls. I just wanted him to hold me like this for the rest of my life.

  He picked me up, carrying me in his arms like a bride on her wedding day. Instead of carrying me to some wonderfully romantic honeymoon suite, however, he carried me into the clean but poorly maintained bathroom. He set me on the edge of the toilet and leaned over to turn on the water in the narrow shower stall. Then he turned to me, a little heat coming into his eyes as he looked me over.

  He knelt in front of me and carefully removed the boots I was wearing still. Each slipped from my feet, releasing the tension I hadn’t noticed until that very moment. Then he slipped his hands under the legs of my trousers, slipping away the thin socks I’d been wearing. Next he stood, holding out his hand to me. I took it and let him pull me to my feet. With all the care of a mother removing her newborn’s clothing, he unbuttoned the thin, pink blouse that had grown wrinkled and sad throughout the events of the day. I watched him, but he wouldn’t look me in the eye as he worked. He concentrated, as though this was a very important moment in our relationship.

  The blouse slipped down my arms and fell to the floor. Underneath I had a thin baby doll top over my bra. He pulled that up over my head, careful to guide it over my chin and my long braid. When he turned me to undo my bra, he hissed as his eyes moved over my back. A second later, he was running his fingers ever so gently over the place on my back that was the sorest at the moment.

  “He really did a number on you.”

  “He likes to kick.”

  Elliott had nothing to say to that. I guess there really was nothing to say.

  My bra came loose, and once again tension I hadn’t noticed was suddenly gone, my body sighing in relief as it was freed from the restraints of the undergarment. His arms came around me and I leaned back, waiting patiently as he worked the zipper on my pants. His mouth grazed the side of my neck, his palms moving up to press against my flat tummy. And then his fingers were sliding under the waistband of my trousers and I was suddenly less exhausted than I’d been before. Much less.

  “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered against my ear.

  I wanted to turn; I wanted to taste his kiss, but his fin
gers were seeking out the top edge of my panties and my clit was screaming for me to stay still, to let his fingers do what they wanted to do. And when he touched me there, when his fingers began to spread me open, my eyes slid closed and the strength went out of my knees. I leaned hard against him, only the support of his arms keeping me upright. He knew just where to touch me, just how much pressure to apply. It was as if someone had written a manual and he’d memorized every page.

  My trousers fell into a puddle at my feet, his hand deep inside my panties now. I loosened my hips a little, let my thighs fall open a little. But not too much. The pressure of my thighs against his hand created a deliciousness that I just couldn’t sacrifice. And when I rolled my hips up just a little…ahhh!

  I reached back, slipped my arms around his lowered neck. He kissed my jaw, his tongue sneaking out to touch me in places that had never been touched quite like that. I never knew that my earlobe was quite that sensitive! And then he slid down, his mouth pressed against my shoulder as his fingertip did this lovely little dance around my clit that made me bite my bottom lip, tension rolling through me as I tried so hard not to allow him to stop.

  And then he slid two fingers inside of me and I thought I’d scream with the pleasure that shot through me. My back hurt, the pain throbbing all the way to the depth of me, but that was so good! So good! And the way he twisted his hand, the way he moved around inside of me…there were no words for it.

  I could have stood there all night like that. I could have clung to him and just stood there. But he suddenly pulled away, slipping my panties from my body and lifting me into the shower. I was so discombobulated by his unexpected absence that I nearly fell over reaching for him. He smiled, gently righting me.

  “Give me a sec, darling.”

  I watched through the fogged up door of the shower stall as he undressed. And then he was there again, sliding into the small stall with me. He pushed me back, allowing the water to rush over my head. I laughed, caught by surprise as the water rushed over me, filling my mouth and my nose and drowning my hair. He tugged the elastic from my braid and carefully pulled the braid apart, his eyes appreciating the long tresses as they fell free under the warm water.