by Sandra Owens
Both his brothers perked up. “No shit?” Nate said. “He brought down more bad guys with nothing more than an investigative article in the paper than we’ve ever hoped of doing.”
Court nodded in agreement. “He was a legend. Remember when he wrote that exposé on those builders taking advantage of desperate homeowners after Hurricane Andrew?”
“I remember.” The hurricane had decimated Miami. “According to Madison, he was killed in a hit-and-run while working on a big story that he refused to talk about. The driver was never caught. The two might not be connected, but I’m not big on coincidences.”
Court sat back in his chair, eyeing Alex with interest. There was nothing that his middle brother loved more than a good puzzle. “Maybe he was afraid his story would put his family in danger.”
“We might never know, but I’m definitely going to look into it.”
Nate frowned at the monitor. “Sonofabitch. I’m gonna throw that asshole in a cell and lose the key.”
Alex glanced at the screen, chuckling at seeing Dirty Dan leaning over the bar, filling his mug with draft beer. “Dude doesn’t give up, does he?”
“It’s not funny,” Nate said as he headed for the door.
“Admit it. The two of you enjoy his little game.” Alex shared an amused glance with Court. For some reason, Dirty Dan loved trying to pull one over on Nate, and Nate had become obsessed with catching the man.
“I admit nothing.” He glanced at Alex. “Be careful tonight.”
“Always am. I’ll check in later if you’re still up.” He headed for his bike, wishing he were on the way to see Madison instead of Ramon.
“Dude’s twitchy,” Alex said when the man he and Ramon had gone to meet claimed he needed to go to another room to get the money. Alex didn’t know how much heroin was in the duffel bag he carried, but it was heavy. He’d been surprised when Ramon agreed to bring him along, but it meant he was earning the man’s trust.
Ramon picked up a paperweight that had a gold coin inside, holding it up to the light. “Javon’s just nervous cause you’re here.” He set the paperweight back down.
Alex trusted his instincts, which had so far kept him alive. Every hair on his neck was screaming that there was more going on with the man than just having a new face show up for a drug deal. “Hold this.” He handed Ramon the bag.
“What’re you doing?”
“Better safe than sorry.” A six-foot-tall fake plant sat near the door, and he leaned his back against the wall next to it. He palmed his gun, holding it down by his leg. At the sound of approaching footsteps, he tilted his head, listening. Ramon opened his mouth to speak, and Alex gave a hard shake of his head. Javon had worn sneakers, but by the heavy thuds against the wood floor, whoever headed their way had on boots. A bigger, heavier man than the skinny one who’d left minutes earlier.
A man wearing a black ski mask strode in, pointing a Beretta at Ramon’s chest. “The hell?” Ramon said.
“Shut up,” the man said. “Where’s your friend?”
Alex put the barrel of his Glock against the back of the dude’s neck. “Blink and you’re dead. Hand your gun to Ramon, the butt toward him. Not joking when I say if you try anything, I’ll pull the trigger. Two seconds is all the time you have left,” Alex said when the guy hesitated.
Last thing he wanted was a dead body on their hands, so he was relieved when the man held out his gun. Once Ramon had the weapon, Alex stepped to the side, putting himself out of reach should the dude decide to try and fight his way out of his predicament.
“Face down on the floor.” The man glared, but did as told. “Ramon, lock the door, then see if you can find something to tie him up with.” Until he knew where Javon was, or if there were others with weapons in the house, he didn’t want anyone walking in on them, catching them by surprise.
After circling the room, Ramon pulled a panel of sheer curtains from a rod, tearing it into strips. “How’d you know?” he asked as he handed the makeshift ties to Alex.
“Told you. Javon was twitchy.” Alex tied the man’s hands behind his back, and then bound his ankles. A quick search of his pockets produced a worn leather wallet. “Kurt Terrance,” he read aloud, memorizing the address. He stuck the wallet back in the man’s pocket.
Ramon picked up the duffel bag full of heroin, moved to a chair, and sat. “What’re we going to do with him?”
Alex squatted in front of his prisoner. “Let me guess. Javon bragged about a big deal he had going down. You decided the drugs and the money would be easy pickings. Have I hit the nail on the head, Mr. Terrance?”
Terrance spit on Alex’s shoe. “Go to hell.”
Alex tsked. “Wrong answer.” He stuck the barrel of his Glock against the man’s ear. “Care to try again?”
“Damn, dude, you’re one badass,” Ramon said, admiration evident in his voice.
And, without even trying, he’d won Ramon’s respect, which was everything in the world to these thugs. Go figure. “I’m waiting, Mr. Terrance.”
“Yeah, man, you fucking nailed it. Happy?” Hatred shone in the man’s eyes.
“Deliriously. How many men you got on Javon? One? Two?”
“One,” Terrance said, giving a sigh of defeat.
“Say what?” Ramon yelled, jumping up.
Alex stood. “Keep an eye on him.” He left, silently slipping down the hallway. The first door he came to was a bathroom, and after making sure it was empty, he eased up to the next open doorway. He found his man in the last room he came to.
“You can have everything. Just don’t hurt them.”
That was Javon’s voice, and who the hell was them? Alex risked a peek around the doorframe, and at seeing a woman cowering on a bed, a little girl clutched in her arms, his blood threatened to boil over. Who terrorized women and children?
Alex backed up a few feet, cleared his throat, and, impersonating Terrance’s voice, said, “Yo, bring that douchebag here.”
“That you, Terrance?” a voice called back.
“Who the fuck else would I be?” He slipped into the room closest to where Javon was being held, and waited. Javon walked past, followed by a man also wearing a ski mask, his gun poked into Javon’s back.
Alex kicked his foot up, sending the gun flying. It hit the ceiling, taking several bounces down the hallway. He twisted midair, putting the heel of his boot hard against the masked man’s ear.
“Fuck,” the man hollered, flattening his palm over his ear as his knees buckled under him.
Alex straddled his back, pressing his gun to the man’s already-assaulted ear. “Bang, bang, you’re dead.” He glanced up at Javon. “Go tell Ramon I need some more ties.” Instead, Javon ran back into the room where the woman and child were. Alex sighed. What a fun night this was turning out to be. He twisted the man’s arm, forcing him up.
“Look what I found,” he said, pushing his captive into the room. Ramon tore some more strips, and after tying up their second prisoner, Alex took out his phone.
Ramon eyed the two men lying facedown on the floor. “What’re we going to do with them?”
The more Alex was around Ramon, the more he realized that the man was pretty much useless. Did Ramon even realize he’d probably be dead now if Alex hadn’t ridden along tonight?
“I’m calling my brother to come get them.” He punched in Nate’s code.
“What’s he gonna do with them?” Still clutching the Beretta, Ramon stuck it in the waistband of his jeans.
“Don’t ask.” He held out his hand. “Gimme that.”
Ramon put his hand over the butt of the gun. “I’m keeping it.”
“So if it’s been used to kill someone, what’s gonna happen if you get caught with it on you?”
Alex stood outside Javon’s house, huddled with Nate and Rand Stevens, another FBI agent. He handed Nate the Beretta, along with the weapon he’d taken from the second man. “Idiot wanted to keep the Beretta.”
“Ramon?” Nate slid the guns
into a pocket of his jacket.
“Yeah. Who else? He thinks you’re gonna take those two dudes to the Everglades and feed them to the gators.” The two in question were hog-tied in the backseat of Nate’s SUV. They’d be taken to a safe house and held under guard while the bureau chief decided what to do with them.
“So you’re Ramon’s hero now?” Rand said.
Alex nodded. “Appears that way.” If he’d tried, he couldn’t have set things up better. Whatever doubts about trusting him that Ramon might have had before tonight, they were gone.
“I better get back inside before he comes looking for me. He wanted to go with you so he could watch you feed the gators.”
Nate slapped him on the back. “You did good in there, little brother.”
Praise from the man who’d stepped in and raised him didn’t come often, but when it did, Alex treasured the moment. Once the taillights of Nate’s car disappeared, he headed back inside so he and Ramon could finish the drug deal. The sooner it was done, the sooner he could go the hell home and take a shower.
CHAPTER TEN
“So you met him at your mom’s birthday party?” Lauren asked, sitting on Madison’s bed.
“Yeah.” That was the story Alex had given, and she was sticking to it. She held up a sundress. No, too dressy. She hung it back up. After eyeing several more outfits, she decided on a pair of white skinny jeans, a green tank top, and a pair of white flat-heeled sandals. It was a little on the sexy side, but casual.
“Work with me here, Madison. I need deets. Alex is the man you’ve been crushing on, right?”
She sighed. Lauren wasn’t going to give up. “Don’t you have a date with Nelson tonight?”
“Later. I have plenty of time to hear all about Mr. Sexy.”
Hemingway jumped onto the bed and made a beeline for the white jeans. “Oh no you don’t.” Madison grabbed her clothes before he had a chance to shed black hair on everything.
Lauren pulled Hemingway onto her lap. “Come on. Spill. What kind of bar does he own? Have you met his brothers?”
“A biker bar, and no, I haven’t met them.” She riffled through her jewelry box, looking for the earrings her father had given her the Christmas before he’d been killed. The white-gold dangling bars with emeralds on the ends would be perfect. “Here you are,” she murmured, picking them up.
“No kidding? A biker bar? We gotta go.”
Madison glanced at her friend in disbelief. “Are you out of your mind? We’re not going to a biker bar. And don’t tell my mom what kind of bar Alex and his brothers own. She’ll freak out.”
“Get your boyfriend to take us there one night and I won’t say a word.” She scooted onto her knees, dislodging Hemingway. “It’ll be fun.”
“That’s blackmail.”
Lauren shrugged. “Whatever works. I want to go.” She steepled her hands as if in prayer. “Please, please, please ask.”
“All right already, but no promises. He’ll probably say no, and that will be the end of it.” Truthfully, she would like to see Alex’s bar, too.
“Awesome!”
To Lauren it was a done deal, and Madison could only laugh at her friend’s enthusiasm. “Go away so I can get dressed. Alex will be here in thirty minutes.”
At the door, Lauren glanced back and waggled her eyebrows. “Have fun. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
“Well, that leaves my night wide open.”
“Go for it, girlfriend,” Lauren said. “You’re due.”
Madison finished dressing, gave Hemingway a treat, and exactly on time, heard the doorbell chime. After putting her eye to the peephole to make sure it was Alex, she opened the door. Tonight he wore all black. The T-shirt hugged his chest, accentuating his broad shoulders, and the jeans rode low on his lean hips. She could stand there all night, drinking him in.
His gaze roamed over her. “Do you know what I want to do right now, Madison?”
That low, sexy voice of his washed over her, and all she could do was shake her head.
“Just this.” He slipped his hand under her hair, cradling the back of her neck. His kiss was soft, a mere brushing of his lips over hers. Too soon, he pulled back, and he chuckled when she tried to follow him. “I plan to do a lot of that tonight, but if I start now, we’ll get to the dirty monkey sex part of our evening right here in your foyer.”
Madison giggled when he waggled his brows. He took her hand, laced his fingers around hers, and led her away. Her last boyfriend hadn’t liked to hold hands, but she’d always loved the feel of a masculine hand wrapped around hers.
When they turned the corner and she saw his motorcycle, she did a little dance. “Awesome!”
He grinned down at her. “I take it you approve?”
“My dad had a BMW motorcycle for a few years, and he would take me for rides. I loved it.”
“You might want to pull your hair back so it doesn’t get all tangled up.” He pulled an elastic band from his jacket pocket, handing it to her.
It warmed her that he’d thought of such a minor thing as her hair getting tangled. After she smoothed her ponytail in place, she took the helmet from him.
He brushed her hands away when she tried to buckle it under her chin. “Let me.” He held her gaze while he adjusted the strap, and it was as if the heat shimmering in his eyes had a direct connection to her girl parts, sending a shiver through her. “There. All buckled up.” Slipping off his leather jacket, he held it out. “Let’s put this on you. Can’t have you getting chilly.”
The jacket held the woodsy scent of him and was warm from his body heat. Between that and the way he was looking at her, she wanted to climb right up him and wrap her legs around his waist. One side of his mouth quirked, as if he could read her thoughts—God forbid.
“I brought the bike tonight because I want to feel you wrapped around me like my favorite blanket. Hold on tight, okay?”
It was definitely okay. Not trusting her voice to be steady, she nodded, the full-faced helmet bouncing on her head. After he swung a leg over the bike and lifted it from the kickstand, she got on behind him, circling her arms around his waist. He put his hands on her knees and pulled her legs tight against his thighs. Her dad’s bike had been a luxury cruiser, with back and arm rests for the passenger. Alex’s didn’t have anything for her to lean against, forcing her to wrap herself around his back. The muscles on his back rippled against her chest when he leaned forward to put his hands on the handlebar. She sighed as the pleasure of being this close to him streamed through every nerve ending on her body.
The ride through the streets of South Beach was a slow one; traffic, as usual, heavy. The sidewalks were crowded with couples and groups headed out to dinner. She caught the envious looks of other women as she and Alex passed. Oh yeah, bitches looking at me with my arms wrapped around the hottest guy on the planet, eat your heart out.
She pressed her face against Alex’s back to hide her grin. As they rode north on A1A, she lifted her face to the wind. She could ride the night away, here on the back of Alex’s bike, holding on to him, smiling back at the people eyeing them from their cars. The men probably wished they were Alex, and the women her.
“You doing okay?” he asked, glancing back when they stopped at a light.
“Are you kidding? This is great.”
He grinned, gave her knee a squeeze, and took off when the light turned green. All too soon, he turned into a condo complex in Surfside, stopped at a security gate leading to an underground parking area, and punched in a code. After he parked and put their helmets in a locker in front of the space, he took her hand and led her to an elevator. A few minutes later, he unlocked his door and stepped back for her to enter.
Curious to see his home, she paused in the foyer. Before she could take anything in, Alex grabbed the waist of her jeans, spinning her around. He backed her up to the wall and stared into her eyes for a moment before covering her mouth with his. She put her hands on his waist, pulling him to her. He g
roaned, rocking his hips against her while pulling the band from her hair. The leather jacket slipped off her shoulders and dropped to the floor. All the while, he hadn’t stopped kissing her, his tongue hot and wet as he explored her mouth. The only thing holding her up was the wall behind her and Alex’s body pressed against the front of her.
Alex forced himself to pull away when all he wanted to do was lower her to the floor and cover her body with his. From the moment she’d planted thoughts of dirty monkey sex into his brain, he’d not been able to think of anything else.
But not tonight, no matter how much his dick screamed otherwise. He wanted them to spend time together, to get to know each other before they took that step. It was the first time he’d felt this way about a woman, and he didn’t want to screw things up with her. He wanted to romance her, and that was a damn first.
He rested his forehead against hers. “I thought about kissing you all day.” And more. Still pressed chest to chest, he could feel the rapid beat of her heart, and he called on every bit of his control to keep from scooping her up and carrying her straight to his bed.
“You didn’t have to stop.”
“Yeah, I did.” He stepped back. Luminous green eyes peered up at him, eyes he could happily drown in. “Come on. Let me impress you with my view.” He wrapped his hand around hers, liking how her tiny hand fit snuggly in his. As they walked through his living room, he noted her glancing around. What did she think of his place?
Having grown up with nothing, as soon as he had enough money to buy his condo, he’d started furnishing it a piece at a time, whenever he could afford to buy something that caught his eye.
The first purchase had been a king-sized four-poster bed. His taste leaned toward contemporary in bright colors—a red leather couch, a coffee table that was a piece of art in itself, and he particularly liked the large painting an artist friend had done after seeing Alex’s granite countertops. It was an abstract, slashes of varying shades of dark reds, yellows, blues, and purples that filled half the wall. A low console sat under it, housing a TV that rose at the push of a button. Sliding glass doors set in the back wall opened up to a balcony with a beautiful view of the ocean.
