Relentless Night (New York Knights Book 4)

by S. M. West

  “Van.” I cringe at the whiny sister-like tone to my voice.

  “Fine, I’ll drop it but not before I say this.” He pauses and I tense, uncertain as to what will come next.

  “Seriously?” Now I do sound like an exasperated little sister.

  “Hear me out. You can’t keep going on like this.” His words are warm, his tone protective.

  “Like what?” Despite being happy he’s back and looking forward to lunch, I’d rather skip the life lesson.

  “All the guys you date. They’re useless, nameless asshats and you deserve so much better. You deliberately avoid any kind of intimacy or connection.”

  “I’m getting into the elevator. I might lose you.” It’s juvenile to hope our conversation will be cut short by metal and wood, and in the same breath, it’s useless. Max’s building recently had signal boosters installed so there’s very little chance of severing our connection.

  “Nice try, Carrington.” His wry tone is followed by a sigh. “Just hear me out for a few more minutes.”

  I snort, twisting my lips. “Who are you and what did you do with Van? You’re giving relationship advice now? I hope you don’t charge by the minute.”

  Ignoring my quip, he’s matter-of-fact as he says, “Sex is a big fuck you for you, and no pun intended.”

  I let out a short bark of laughter, and he barrels on without judgement or criticism to his tone. “Sex is power for you. You’re taking back what he and others took from you.”

  Exiting the elevator in a daze, I rest against a wood paneled wall in the foyer, letting Van’s words wash over me. It’s as if Van already knows he is in the city.

  The day doorman catches my eye, smiling and tipping his hat in greeting. I force a tight smile and push myself forward and out of the building.

  “But that’s not all it can be. Sex is also intimacy and pleasure. A bond. And that scares the shit out of you.” Van lowers his voice until it’s softer and caring, and his concern pricks at my chest even as I lash out.

  “Don’t shrink me.”

  With long, quick strides, I push past the unease and bubbling irritation. He isn’t saying anything I don’t already know. Heck, I jumped to the idea of sex with Max and as glorious as I hope it would be, shit I know it would be, it’s the intimacy and connection that scare the shit out of me. I already have too much to lose.

  “Hey, I didn’t say that to tick you off,” he says apologetically, and now I feel like more of a jerk than moments ago.

  “You didn’t.” I try to reassure him that I’m okay.

  “As for relationships in general, you’ve got a lot to share with the right person.” His words echo Anna’s from just the other day and my insides clench. “And if the time ever comes when you find the one, you’ll need to be open and honest if you’re ever going to have a meaningful and trusting relationship. You need to trust more than just me.”

  “Van, while I don’t like talking about this, I get it. Message received.” I try to keep any irritation out of my voice.

  He’s well-meaning like Anna, and they both want me to make peace with my demons. Not that a relationship or a man will make me whole or happy, that’s not what he’s saying, but rather that I stop resisting any kind of emotional investment. And he’s right. My automatic response to anything too deep or with too much risk is to run.

  Van, by virtue of finding me, became the only one I fully let in. In some ways, I had no choice. I was just a teenager and truly alone. I’d lost everyone and everything and while trusting someone was as dangerous and scary to me as drinking battery acid, I needed someone.

  He’d rescued me and had been nothing but protective and kind. He wasn’t pushy or nosy despite having every right to ask me a million questions. Again, trusting him was as easy and risk-free as bungee jumping—if you catch my drift—and I was scared shitless of letting him in because what if I lost him?

  I’d already lost everything, I couldn’t bear to make new connections, find new people to love, only to have it taken away again. Ten years later and I’ve got a small family of friends, some who are in my inner circle and most that I keep at arm’s length. But even then, they are closer than most people.

  “You still there?” His gruff voice cuts through my tumultuous thoughts.

  “Yep. Sorry.” I stop along the path in Central Park, across the street from Max’s apartment building, and Gunnar lifts his leg by a tree.

  “Hey, I don’t usually force this kind of conversation but sometimes you need to hear something more than once for it to stick.”

  A chime, signaling an incoming text, causes me to pull the phone from my ear.

  Max: Hey, sleeping beauty, you up? Will you be at HC in an hour or so? I need to talk to the guys and would like you to be there.

  I wrinkle my forehead, wondering what this is all about.

  Me: I’m heading to HC in a few. Will be there. Everything okay?

  Max: It will be. Talk soon.

  “Van, I have to go. Max is coming into HC.”

  “Yeah, I just got a text from him too.”

  “Do you know what it’s about?”

  “All he said was Taya Conrad.”

  “Shit. That…” I purse my lips, capturing the nasty words I like to use when describing Max’s mother.

  “Yeah, my thoughts exactly. This can’t be good. Guess we’ll find out more shortly.”

  “Yes. And Van?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Thank you for caring enough to put us both through that relationship torture talk.”

  I detect a smile in his voice. “I’ll always care enough to torture you.”

  And isn’t that what big brothers are for?

  Tommie

  Van, Ry and Coop are in a conference room when I arrive at HC, heads together and deep in conversation. They pause, each turning in their respective chairs to look my way.

  A warm brotherly smile spreads across Van’s dark stubbled face, while the corners of Ry’s mouth tip upward ever so slightly and he gives me a quick nod.

  “Tommie, where did you get those skyscrapers?” Coop dips his chin to my nude Valentino rock-studded patent leather stilettos that I lucked out and found in the back of Max’s front hall closet. I can’t remember when I last wore them or how they wound up there. “You’re looking very Atomic Blonde.”

  He’s referring to the Cold War spy Charlize Theron plays in the movie he just named, and I can’t contain my smile. Coop knows better than to comment on my legs or about how they make me stick out even more among the Avenger types roaming these halls.

  I’m not the only woman to work at HC, we have several talented, badass operatives in the field that are of the female persuasion. Van is very much an equal-opportunity employer. But I am the only woman among management and contrary to what some might think, most of these guys don’t subscribe to stereotypes. I’m treated with respect, have a voice at the table and have had led many a tactical exercise from the intelligence perspective.

  “Hmmm. I always thought of myself more as a Captain Marvel of the keyboard.” One eyebrow arches and I twitch my lips in an attempt to mimic the action hero from said movie.

  “Damn, I’d have to agree with that.” Coop snickers. “Now all I’m seeing is glowing eyes and killer explosives.”

  Amusement sparkles in Van’s hazel eyes as he pulls a chair out for me beside him. I hesitate, wanting to tell him what I didn’t on the phone, and for that we need privacy.

  “Can we talk before Max arrives?” I hook my thumb over my shoulder in the direction of the other offices.

  “Sure.”

  His hand rests on my back, guiding me from the room. I snicker, ignoring Coop’s humorous remarks about how it’s rude to keep secrets as we walk down the hall.

  “What’s up?” He shuts my office door and strides in front of where I’m perched on the edge of my desk. “Is this the tongue-lashing for our convo earlier?”

  Fun still dances in his gaze, but his features are more se
rious. I shake my head and walk around to sit, resting my elbows on the desk.

  “Ash is in New York.”

  Without uttering a word, his stoic, unwavering expression gives away that he already knows. “I found out yesterday once the case wrapped. The notification was waiting on my phone. When did you?”

  “A week ago. Page Six?” I ask, referring to the New York Post’s celebrity gossip site, and he nods.

  “Before you ask, I was going to call but also hoped it would be like the times before and he’d be gone without incident. Besides, you were under and couldn’t have done anything anyway.”

  “We’ve talked about this. On a case or not, if you need me, you know how to get a hold of me. I would have pulled out if…” He sits across from me, elbows now on the desk as he takes my clasped hands in his. “You know, forget about that. I want to focus on something you said. Without incident? Did something happen?”

  Shaking vehemently, I rush to assure him, cursing my careless words. “No. Nothing has happened. But the longer he stays in New York…”

  I can’t bring myself to finish the sentence and his grave expression suggests that I don’t need to. We both know that as long as Ash Naire is in this city, it isn’t a question of if he’ll do something but rather when.

  “You can’t stay at your place. Come stay with us. You’re alone and it’s too easy to get in there.” His jaw is taut as he’s quick to brainstorm solutions.

  I can just imagine the words he’s biting back. He never wanted me to move into the building where I live. The security is flimsy at best, if not non-existent. Although, given my past, Fort Knox wouldn’t satisfy Van’s protective gene.

  If he had things his way, I’d be living with him and his wife, Carys, who is also Ry’s younger sister, and their kids. But like I said when I signed my bachelor studio lease and still believe now, I can’t live my life in constant fear.

  From the day Van freed me from my prison, we both knew Ash would come for me. Although I imagined his strike would be swift and stealthy, not this, so far, discreet taunt.

  “Already ahead of you. I plan on telling Max everything and I’ll ask if I can stay with him.” He raises a brow and once over his initial surprise, he relaxes into the idea. “His building has better security than most and he’s never there so there’s little risk of putting him in danger.”

  Van frowns, leaning back into his chair and crossing his arms. “Don’t underestimate him. We’re all at risk until he’s behind bars.”

  The unsettling truth grows along my spine like a thorny vine and tightens around my throat. Yes, Ash coming for me was inevitable. We have unfinished business—the sick asshole never got what he deserves.

  A six-by-eight-foot cell would do the trick, or preferably a rusted shank to the gut, but if Interpol and Scotland Yard can’t get anything concrete on him, the chances of incarceration are slim.

  Van hadn’t rescued me from Ash’s lair. I’d been carted off to another place as punishment and it was purely coincidence, or maybe fate, that Van was there looking for someone else when he found me.

  Once safely away from Ash and somewhat able to speak coherently, I tried to remember something to help Van nail him. But where I’d been held captive was unknown to me. I was literally and figuratively in the dark.

  All I had was his first name and that of his hacker sidekick, Zero. It took some digging and plenty of time, since all we had were the few details from Van’s assignment and those two names, to find him.

  When I came across his picture online, Ash was standing beside a British government official. That said it all. He was living in London—still does, and was a well-respected businessman—still is.

  Van shared the little we had on him with local and international law enforcement, but they said it wasn’t enough to make anything stick. So like us, they are watching and waiting for the chance to nail the bastard.

  “Hey, sorry to interrupt.” Ry sticks his head into my office, taking in our serious faces and straightening to his full height. “You guys okay?”

  “Yeah.” Van turns to face his best friend, and co-owner of HC. “We gotta talk later.”

  He looks back at me with the unspoken question—am I good with Ry, and likely the rest of the crew, knowing every sordid detail of my past? What can I say? Not really but yes. I nod and he offers a tight-lipped smile.

  “All right. We’ll talk. Max is here and in the conference room. We’re waiting on you two.”

  “Thanks. Give us a sec.” Van’s gaze doesn’t veer from mine and I stand, coming from behind the desk as Ry leaves us alone.

  “Let’s go.” Leading the way out of the office, Max comes to mind and my curiosity is even more piqued, wondering what he has to say to us.

  “Hey, Tommie girl.” Van taps me on the shoulder. “I’m proud of you for wanting to tell Max. It’s a big step.”

  I swallow past the apprehension building in my throat. Sharing won’t be easy but it’s long overdue. Max is aware of my past in general terms, and the death of my parents. He doesn’t know all the sordid details but enough to know I was held captive.

  “Thanks, and yeah, but it’s time.”

  The conference room is full, most of the chairs around the large, wooden table taken. Ry’s hands rest on the back of a chair and when he sees me, he wheels it out in a gesture for me to sit.

  Smiling, I step toward Ry, nerves bubbling in my stomach, more confused as to why Max is here. He’s standing at the front of the room, he hasn’t seen me yet, and there’s a bruise on his face. What happened?

  I want to go to him, demand answers. Who did he get into a fight with? Does it have something to do with Tate, his sister?

  A rush of excitement floods my body, drowning any anxiety, when a smile dawns in his eyes at the sight of me. The corners of his mouth tip up, lighting his handsome face, and I can’t help but think of his lips upon mine. And at how happy I am to see him.

  Resisting the urge to go to him, I swipe my hand across my cheek in the spot where his is bruised in a question. His head moves from side to side as if shaking off my concern and then he mouths that he’ll explain later.

  Later. Now would be better, but I have the sense whatever he’s about to say may answer all questions.

  Max

  A woman died last night, and I did nothing to help her. I tried but it wasn’t enough, and what about all those other women I heard in that basement? My head’s pounding and my insides are raw.

  After leaving the warehouse, I went to the hospital to check on my patient even though I was utterly useless. Unfocused, angry and lost.

  Technically, I have the day off with plans to slay the paperwork on my desk, but after last night, I have to do something.

  My mother is responsible for an impressive list of crimes, some of which I can’t even imagine. And while I don’t know for sure what she’s up to, I can’t shake the sinking feeling it’s some despicable shit.

  Tate’s safety is still my concern, and even more so now that she has children. There are many reasons to toe the line and keep my mouth shut, but I can’t let whatever-this-is happen. It’s clear lives are at stake. My next move is either the cops or Ry and HC.

  The police are the logical choice given HC is a private firm, known to work outside the confines of the law, yet going through the proper channels means there’s only one chance. Well, one chance for Tate and me, that is.

  My mother must have at least one person, if not more, in the police department on her payroll. All it would take is one conversation with the wrong cop, or something entered in their systems, triggering an alarm, and everything would blow up in my face. My mother would be on to me.

  HC is the better bet. They may operate in the gray areas, but have been known to work with, or share what they find with, the law. And while a visit to HC may cause Taya to question my motives, it isn’t like I haven’t been there before.

  At this point, it’s a risk I’m willing to take. Besides, once Ry and the ot
hers know everything, they’ll take additional measures to keep Tate and their boys safe.

  The conference room is full when I arrive but no sign of Tommie. It’s important she is here for this. I’d have preferred to tell her about my involvement with my mother in private, but waiting isn’t an option, and she’ll understand that. Based on what I saw last night, time is of the essence.

  “Max, is Tate in any immediate danger?” Ry’s expression is tight, and I’m comforted by his unwavering commitment to my sister. She is his number one priority, always.

  “Max.” Tripp dips his chin as he sidles up beside us and takes a sip of his coffee.

  “Not that I’m aware of. But that may change after this.”

  My brother-in-law growls, curling his hands into fists. “You’re killing me here, man. Let me go get Van and Tommie.”

  Before I can say anything else, he’s gone and Tripp’s stare pins me to the spot. He’s clearly still mulling over what I just said.

  “Come on.” He leads me to the front of the room.

  From across the room, Coop tracks my moves and his dark eyes shine with interest. He’s the only one who looks even remotely laid back about this spontaneous meeting. The guy exudes a carefree attitude despite being just as vigilant as the rest of them.

  I get the intensity. My mother has wreaked havoc on most of their lives and try as they might, she’s still an ever-present threat to our small but mighty self-made family. She’s vile and destructive and there’s an eager, electric vibe in the air.

  Any of them would jump on any proverbial bandwagon to get rid of her once and for all. Well, I’m about to kick off said mission with me leading the charge.

  The large oval table sits in the middle of the room and most of the ten chairs are occupied save for two, which I’m guessing are for Tommie and Van, or maybe Ry. Men and women stand along the walls, mostly faces I vaguely recognize from past HC family barbecues or when I’ve visited the office. All told, there’s about twenty of us in the room.

  Ry returns, a flash of fire in his eyes; I can almost feel his impatience and right now, it’s directed at me. He grabs the top of a vacant chair and when Tommie enters, followed by Van, he turns the chair, motioning for her to sit.