Wild & Sweet (The Haven Brotherhood)

by Rhenna Morgan

  Forever and a day, and not one of them went by without her wondering why she didn’t see her more. “Just after my twelfth birthday. She came over unexpectedly with a late birthday card.”

  “And? How’d it go?”

  Gabe glared at the table, the pain and disappointment of the past piling onto all the other emotions from the day. “Not so great. She’d been there about five minutes when she asked me if I’d feel Dad out for a loan. Danny overheard it, yanked her out of my bedroom and kicked her out of the house. I heard Dad on the phone with her later that night. Hell, the whole neighborhood probably heard him. He made it really clear she wasn’t welcome at the house anymore.”

  “That’s too bad.”

  “I know. It sucked not having a mom.”

  “No, I mean it’s too bad you haven’t seen her. Then maybe you’d drop this crazy idea that you could have changed things.”

  “But I could have.”

  “No, you couldn’t. Nothing you do can change someone else. People change themselves.” She tilted her head to one side. “You saw her four years after she was arrested. Was she any different?”

  Well, now that she thought about it... “No.”

  “Right. So she’d been busted by the cops, divorced, kicked out of her home and lost her kids. Don’t you think that would be the mother of all wake-up calls?”

  Um...maybe. She didn’t give voice to the thought, but it didn’t matter because April answered for her.

  “Yeah, it would be. For any sane, reasonable person. But there are some people who just don’t get it. No matter what we do, or what we try, they just can’t get there. Maybe if you’d seen her more, you could’ve realized that’s who she is. And Zeke isn’t her. Not based on the stories you’ve told me the last few weeks.”

  I’m not your mother. I’m not the narcissistic assholes you went to school with. I’m the man who loves you. Who’s doing his damnedest to keep you safe.

  It was the truth. Not once in the time she’d known him had he been anything but steady. Considerate. Caring. Not just with her, but with everyone. The rugby kids, his brothers, even strangers. And he’d taken Danny into his extended family. Taken an interest in his future and set out to really make good things happen.

  Danny. He was another example of goodness. Yeah, he’d started down a criminal path, but unlike her mother, he’d woken up and changed his ways.

  Well, mostly. She still wondered how he’d ponied up for the back payments and the mortgage for the house, but there was no comparing Danny or Zeke to her mom. Both were good, solid, reliable men. So were the other brothers.

  Danny’s as much family to my brothers as you are to me. The only difference between the two of us is he’s ready to jump.

  Was she being shortsighted? Danny had claimed a million times she used every trick in the book to keep people at bay. Maybe this was another one. No different than her introverted social life or her boyish clothes.

  April sat up straighter, drawing Gabe out of her thoughts as she reached across the table and nudged Gabe’s hand. “Hey, you okay?”

  No, not even close. “Not yet,” Gabe said instead. “But I will be.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Backed into a shadowed parking space across from Lakeside Investment’s corporate office, Zeke thumbed the volume down on his stereo and re-checked his voice mails and text messages.

  Again.

  Still nothing.

  He checked the discreet headset tucked inside his ear, the muted background conversations from Axel, Danny, Beck and Jace mingled with Knox’s nonstop keyboard clicks.

  The passenger-side door kachunked open and Trevor folded himself into the low-slung bucket seats, three large pizza boxes stacked in his lap. Unlike all the other guys who’d worn the expected all-black cargos and long-sleeved T’s to their pre-meet, Trev had kept his attire to the usual jeans, button-down and a seriously badass pair of Lucchese boots. Then again, their role in tonight’s event was distraction.

  Zeke motioned to the pizzas. “You planning an after-party, or does sneaky shit make you hungry?”

  Trev grinned, dropped a beat-up ball cap on top of the boxes and shoved the whole mess toward Zeke. “More like your diversion.”

  “You want me to be a delivery man? Really?”

  “Hey. Not my fault you were working when we laid out the details.”

  Beck’s voice sounded through the headpiece. “Don’t knock pizza as a distraction, brother. We got lucky tonight. Two guys, both in their early twenties, working on a Saturday. You walk in there this late with those pies and the only thing they’ll be interested in is who gets the last slice.”

  Zeke popped the lid on the top box. “Deep-dish cheese? You could have at least copped for some decent toppings.”

  “Yeah, well, don’t expect a tip either.” Trev fiddled with his own headpiece. “By the time they dig into them, they’ll be cold.”

  Jace’s chuckle rumbled through the line. “You forget the kind of crap you were willing to eat at twenty-one?”

  “Hell, I don’t remember what I ate yesterday,” Trevor said.

  “You guys are talkin’ food and I’ve got a sweet lass waitin’ with somethin’ else for me to eat at the compound,” Axel said. “What say we get this shite on the road?”

  Knox barked a sharp laugh from his office at the security firm he shared with Beckett. “It’s always about sex with you.”

  “Kind of the pot calling the kettle black, aren’t you?” Axel said.

  “All right,” Beckett interrupted, though the humor was evident in his own voice, “let’s review the drill. Zeke, you get the security crew away from their desk. How’s not important. Just get ’em far enough away, Trev’s got time to plug the flash drive in the main computer, and the rest of us past the desk and into the stairwell.”

  “What about the cameras?” Trevor said. “You said they’re mounted on both corners up front. That’s got a prime shot of the desk.”

  “Once I’m in it, won’t matter,” Knox said. “I’ll copy footage of the guys and lay it over whatever’s recorded.”

  Beckett picked back up. “As soon as Knox overrides their security, he’ll disable the alarms and will have a direct line to their monitors. Unless they’ve got unexpected surprises on the inside, it’ll be smooth sailing until we’re ready to get out.”

  “What’s the likelihood we’ll find surprises?” Zeke said.

  Unlike the rest of the guys with their easygoing banter, Danny’s voice was rock solid. Focused. “My guess is low. The hack Knox had to come up with to get through their system makes me think they’ll be overconfident with their frontline defense.”

  Well, that was something, at least. Considering he’d boasted about him and his brothers knowing what they were doing, he was kind of banking on being able to argue with Gabe first thing in the morning instead of waiting on someone to post bail. “Do me a favor and avoid surprises.”

  “I’m with ya on that one,” Danny said.

  “One more thing,” Beckett said. “Trev staged something a little bigger to get the guys out of our path when it’s time to exit.”

  Trevor’s answering chuckle came out a little on the sinister side. “I never did like that car.”

  “What car?” Zeke said.

  “Remember that piece of shit Volkswagen I had to tow out of The Den’s parking lot a few months ago?” He waggled his eyebrows. “Boom.”

  Damn. Clearly Trev didn’t fuck around when it came to distractions. “You didn’t.”

  “I did.” He jerked his head toward the street lining the front of the building and grinned. “Mr. Johnson would be proud.”

  “Who’s Mr. Johnson?” Jace said.

  “That son of a bitch chemistry teacher my senior year. And here he thought I
wasn’t listening.”

  “You boys wanna focus and get on with this?” Knox said. “My fingers are twitchy.”

  “Well...” The way Jace drew it out, Zeke could practically picture the toothpick rolling from one side of his mouth to the other. “We can’t have the man at mission control with twitchy fingers. All set?”

  “Yep.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Go.”

  “I’m in.”

  Zeke grumbled and popped open his door, hefting the stack of boxes out in front of him. “I make it all the way through college without delivering one fucking pizza, and I ruin my stretch after I’m an M.D.” He waited until Trevor was out of the passenger side and hit the locks on the Camaro. “And no blowing that piece of shit Volkswagen before my ride’s in the clear.”

  “Deal.” Trevor hustled toward a hidden alcove just off the main entrance. “Give me five, then go.”

  Zeke pulled the grungy cap on, tugged the bill low, and checked his watch. Just after ten. More times than he could count, he’d considered texting Gabe, but had tucked his phone away before he could give in. He’d promised her space and she sure as hell deserved a little time to process the bomb he’d dropped on her, but fuck if it wasn’t gutting him from the inside out. Maybe he shouldn’t give her until tomorrow. He’d seen firsthand the whacked ideas her mind could conjure. More time tonight only meant more arguments to wade through tomorrow.

  Trevor’s hushed voice sounded in Zeke’s earpiece. “Ready.”

  Right. Cue Pizza Man. He ambled toward the building, careful to keep his head down when he entered, just in case. Instead of stopping at the front desk, he angled toward the farthest bank of elevators.

  “Hey!” A lanky guy with dirty-blond hair and a lingering fight with acne popped out of his seat and hurried around the wide black desk.

  Zeke kept going, pretending he hadn’t heard.

  Keys jingled behind him, interspersed between heavy feet moving at a near jog. “Hey, mister. You have to check in.”

  The elevator bank was only a few more steps away. If he pushed it, maybe the second guy would get up off his ass and follow suit.

  Clipped words he couldn’t quite make out sounded behind him, followed by more footsteps. Sure enough, both men rounded the corner just as Zeke pushed the elevator’s up button, though the way the second dude was breathing sounded like he could have gone without the sudden sprint.

  Blondie was the first to shout. “Hold up!”

  Zeke feigned surprised. “What?” He pried his headset out of his ear and held it up. “Sorry. Guess I had the music up too loud. Something wrong?”

  The heavy-set dark-haired guy sauntered forward like that tin shield on his rent-a-cop uniform actually stood for something. “All visitors have to check in first. And no one called us about a pizza order.”

  “What do you mean? They said it was on the eighth floor.”

  “Ah, man.” Blondie shook his head and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Sorry to break it to you, but whoever called in your order either gave you the wrong address, or is pranking you. The eighth floor here is empty. Couldn’t be anyone there.”

  Talk about not having all the right intel before he made his moves. He’d kind of hoped he’d keep the guys away by talking them into riding along for delivery. “Are you fucking kidding me?” He glanced down the rest of the elevator banks with the shiny silver exteriors then back at the men, making a show like he was considering tossing the boxes. “I hate this job. Fourth damned time this week it’s happened, too.” He scowled another second, milking every moment he could by staring out the big plate glass windows and pretending he couldn’t decide what to do. “You guys hungry?”

  Not surprisingly, it was hefty dude that answered first. “Are you kidding? I’m starved.”

  Go figure. Zeke shrugged and strolled toward them. “Better you two get ’em than me have to lug ’em back to the shop again. Think my car’s gonna smell like pepperoni for the rest of its life.” He handed over the boxes and tucked his earpiece back in. “Don’t suppose you’re willing to chip in a little to cover the cost?”

  Both shook their head, but at least Blondie had the good grace to look apologetic. “Wasn’t planning on ordering anything until after shift change.”

  “That’s cool.”

  Trevor’s voice cut through the headpiece. “Clear.”

  “Yup, we’re in, too,” Danny said.

  Thank God.

  Zeke slapped hefty dude on the shoulder and headed back the way he’d come in. “You two enjoy. Sorry if I jacked up your night.” He waited until he was a few steps away and threw in a “Hate this job,” for good measure.

  Trevor’s laughter vibrated through the earpiece. “You sure you never delivered a pizza, brother?”

  “Fuck you, Trev,” Zeke said low enough the men trailing him couldn’t hear it. He pushed open one of the glass entryway doors and stomped out toward the parking lot.

  “Hell, he probably didn’t even catch a buzz from that little routine,” Jace said. His voice was low and a little winded, the echo of footsteps from the stairwell ringing in the background. “Kind of tame compared to jumping out of airplanes.”

  “Gotta say,” Trevor said, “the bit with the headset was creative.”

  Knox cut through the banter. “I’m in. Sensors are going down.”

  And that was it. Before Zeke and Trevor had even met back at his Camaro and moved it farther away from the building, the rest of the guys had split and breached both offices. While he was damned glad they’d made it safe inside, he’d have given a lot to have something to occupy his time while he waited. “You sure the car thing’s the best kind of distraction?” he said to Trevor beside him.

  “Well, another bogus pizza delivery’s not going to cut it, and I’m too old and proud to streak, so yeah, I’m going with fire.”

  “You sure you know what you’re doing?”

  Trev scoffed and slumped lower in the passenger seat. “Piece of cake. Nothing huge, just a mini light show for our hungry friends.”

  Danny’s nearly whispered, but very tense voice cut through their banter. “I think I found something.” Papers rustled before silence filled the line. “There’s shit here on Wallaby and Yates. All the sales down the street are lined up in here, too. Lots of shit about their finances and some reverse mortgage papers.”

  “Let me see,” Beckett said.

  Another pause.

  “Not a good time for suspense,” Jace said. “We need to bail?”

  “Hell no.” Beck was all business, clearly on to something. “Zeke, what’s Succinylcholine?”

  “It’s a muscle paralytic. Why?”

  “What would you use it for?

  “Relaxes the muscles for surgery. Or with a ventilator.”

  “If you give someone too much, what happens?”

  “Exactly what it sounds like. It paralyzes the muscles. Cardiac arrest most likely.” He shifted in his seat. “You wanna tell me what the fuck this is about?

  “They killed my dad.” Danny’s voice. Flat and loaded with disbelief. “They’ve got his cholesterol meds listed here. They knew what he was taking.”

  “How old was he?” Zeke said.

  “Sixty-three. Two years from retiring.”

  He had to hand it to someone. As moves went, it was pretty slick. “Not likely for an autopsy then. Not unless the family requested one.”

  “We didn’t even think about it.” Though, from the devastation in Danny’s voice, it sounded like it was a decision he’d second-guess for a very long time.

  “Son of a bitch.” The sharp clunk of a drawer closing followed Beckett’s sharp words. “They’ve got copies of the security system we installed on Danny’s house, records of who comes and goes, and all kinds of other det
ails for the last two weeks.”

  “What the fuck?” This from Knox, clearly pissed anyone had violated his security.

  “What the fuck is right,” Beckett said. “If we’re reading this right, they’re casing Gabe.”

  * * *

  Two hours Gabe had driven around the lake, her thoughts whipping like the wind through her truck’s open windows. No destination. No purpose behind the trip beyond the hypnotic drone of her engine and the time to think.

  They were right. Zeke. Danny. April. Her father. Even the therapist all those years ago. Every one of them saw and tried to tell her what she’d refused to see. She really didn’t let people close. Or if she did, she pushed them away the first chance she got. Heck, now that she’d dared to let the idea settle, she even wondered if the social anxiety was just another ruse from her psyche.

  She pulled into her driveway and shut off the lights. Silence filled the cab, only the random pings of her heated motor as it began to cool and cicadas in the distance breaking the night’s quiet. The empty concrete where Danny and Zeke usually parked was shrouded in shadows. That’s the life she had to look forward to if things didn’t change. No friends. No family.

  No Zeke.

  A pang twisted behind her sternum and her stomach lurched. God, the things she’d said to him. After everything he’d done for her, all the kindness he’d shown, she’d gone and acted like a shrew. She still thought the way he and his brothers were going about things was wrong, but he was right in calling her out on the way she’d approached it. Loving someone didn’t mean controlling them. It meant accepting them. The good and the bad.

  Didn’t it?

  Frustrated at the prospect of more internal debate, she yanked the door’s latch and slid down to the concrete, her purse whacking her in the hip as she landed. She dug for her keys, cursing the fact that she’d gone and left the porch light off again.

  She hesitated at the thought, memories of Mrs. Wallaby’s break-in stomping mercilessly through her. Shaking the eerie sensation off, she glommed on to her keys and let out a frustrated breath. She’d just been in a hurry, that’s all. Too keyed up and eager for a friendly ear to pay attention to what she was doing.