by Susan Stoker
Gritting her teeth, she remained upright, putting her weight on her right leg. As it was, she could hear growling coming from behind her. All four of the men were on the edge.
“Get your ass over here, right now!” Joseph yelled.
“I don’t think so,” a new voice boomed into the clearing.
Shocked, as Felicity hadn’t heard anyone else arrive, she turned her head just enough to keep her eye on Joseph, not putting it past him to bum-rush her the second her head was turned, and saw a man she’d never seen before striding into the fray as if he hadn’t a care in the world.
Ryder had never wanted to kill anyone as badly as he wanted to kill Joseph Waters. He’d thought he wanted him dead before. Now it was a certainty. The man had shot at his woman. Fucking shot at her. The only thing keeping him from filling the man with an entire clip of bullets was the knowledge that they’d never know where Nate was if he did. He had to keep the man alive and get him to Black. His friend and teammate would get the knowledge out of him, using whatever means necessary. Once they had Nate’s location, Black would turn Joseph back over to him, and Ryder could have his vengeance. For him, Felicity, and Nate.
Just as his finger began to squeeze the trigger to take out Joseph’s knee, he watched in disbelief as a man strode into the middle of the standoff as if he didn’t even notice six guns pointed at each other.
“Garrick Watson,” he said under his breath, letting his brothers know who the newcomer was.
Rex had sent a picture of the man after he’d been informed about the entire situation. He looked nothing like what someone might think a Mob boss should look like. He wasn’t very tall—a couple of inches under six feet. His black hair was longish, swept forward over his forehead much like Justin fucking Bieber’s. The style looked ridiculous on the older man. He was wearing a pair of skinny jeans and a white polo buttoned up all the way to his chin. A black suit jacket completed his ensemble.
Ryder might’ve have called him feminine if it wasn’t for the absolute lack of emotion on the man’s face. It was a ruthless look that Ryder had seen on many an assassin’s face. He was a man without scruples or tenderness. He’d read the file on Garrick Watson and intellectually knew the man wasn’t exactly Mother Teresa, but even if he hadn’t read the file on the stranger walking among them, he’d know with one glance he wasn’t someone he wanted to be on the wrong side of.
And that, Ryder supposed, was how the man had gotten so powerful in Chicago. Lack of remorse, lack of compassion, and someone who had no difficulty getting rid of problems permanently, all combined to make him one scary motherfucker.
Knowing Garrick didn’t teleport to the clearing, Ryder glanced behind him and saw a shiny sleek Lincoln Town Car parked behind their vehicles on the dirt road. Two muscular men stood in front of it, their arms crossed. Turning back to the scene in front of him, Ryder knew shit would get ugly real fast if something happened to Garrick, as his bodyguards wouldn’t hesitate to shoot to kill, but for now, Joseph and his father were his concern.
Ryder’s finger twitched on the trigger of his pistol. He so badly wanted to take out both Joseph and Garrick, but he held back, needing to see how the situation would play itself out.
As if seeing the same thing in the older man that he did, Felicity slowly began to limp her way backward toward him. Ryder kept his attention split between Joseph and his father, but sighed in relief when Felicity reached him. He shoved her behind him roughly and waited.
“Joseph, what did I tell you?” Garrick asked his son, taking the exact spot where Felicity had been, standing between the brothers and his son. He seemingly had no concerns about the four men with guns pointed at his back.
“Dad, what are you doing here?” Joseph whined.
“Cleaning up after you . . . again,” Garrick bit out, his tone a little less congenial now.
Ryder glanced over at Logan for a split second. When he caught the other man’s eyes, Ryder merely shrugged his shoulders, indicating he wasn’t sure how this was going to play out and they should stay on their toes.
“There’s nothing to clean up, Dad,” Joseph said, the fake bravado easy to hear in his voice.
“The fuck there’s not,” Garrick returned. “Do you have any idea who you’re messing with?”
“She needs to learn her lesson,” Joseph tried again.
“Fuck her, she’s not important,” his dad said.
Ryder didn’t like hearing anyone say that the woman he loved wasn’t important, but he held his tongue.
“Mountain Mercenaries. Does the name ring any bells?” Garrick bellowed at his son. “Have you not heard one fucking thing I’ve said over the years about discretion?”
“You don’t understand,” Joseph tried again. “She butted into my life back then, and she needs to learn her place. Women don’t matter. You’ve said it yourself. It’s why you and my uncles aren’t married. Because women are second-class citizens and not worthy of our attention.”
“Then why are you giving her so much of your attention?” Garrick asked.
Ryder kept his gun trained on Joseph. At the moment, he was more of a threat than his father.
“She needs to pay,” Joseph said again, stubbornly sticking to his point.
“If you don’t put down your weapons and come with me right now, you will single-handedly ruin everything I’ve built over the last thirty years,” Garrick said with a hint of steel in his voice. “Tell Mr. Anderson where you stashed his son, and this’ll all be over. You’ll come back to Chicago with me, we’ll compensate him for any mental anguish you put him and his family through, and this’ll be done.”
“No!” Joseph exclaimed. “I won’t.”
Garrick took a step toward his son. “Where is the infant?” he asked in a low tone.
Joseph’s eyes went from his father to Felicity.
Ryder put out a hand and made sure she was still covered. She was. She was standing stock-still behind him. Letting him protect her. Trusting him. Even though the situation sucked, he felt a wave of love move through him.
“Look at me, son.” When Joseph complied, Garrick continued. “We do not want the Mountain Mercenaries up our ass. Understand? Tell me where the infant is.”
“No.” Joseph sounded petulant, but absolutely unbending.
“I don’t know where I went wrong with you,” Garrick said with a shake of his head. “When you were born, I had such high hopes. You were inquisitive and smart. But by the time you were in the fifth grade, you were already showing signs of being a bully. You never understood that ruling people through respect and a little bit of fear is so much more effective than berating them constantly and using blackmail.
“I tried to teach you that there’s a time and place for violence, but you seemed to thrive on it. When you were in high school and I had to pay off that judge to get you out of that assault charge, I thought you learned your lesson. But then you had to go and fuck it up again with that bitch in college, and I had to clean up that mess as well.” Garrick shook his head and went on. “You’re a disgrace. An embarrassment. I can’t tell you how many of my men have come to me over the years to complain about you. To tell me all the ways you screwed up. At this point, I’m thinking I would’ve been better off without a son at all.”
“I always did everything you told me to,” Joseph protested. He clenched the pistol in his hand so hard, his knuckles were turning white. “But you were never satisfied. Never. You were the one who told me women were trash. That they were good for nothing but fucking. I watched you when I was still in elementary school with the whores you hired. You didn’t let them get away with disrespecting you. I’ve only done what you taught me, Father. And this bitch disrespected me. And I’m not letting her get away with it.”
Garrick took a step closer to his son. “I also taught you discretion. But you never learned that fucking lesson. You don’t kill a bitch and dump her body to be found by the cops in your own neighborhood. You don’t hit bitches where thei
r screams can be heard by others. You brought this on yourself. I told you time and time again to let it go. That nothing she said about you would ever stick, but you wouldn’t listen. Just like you never listen.” Garrick shook his head and snorted in exasperation. “For once in your pathetic life, listen to what I’m saying. Tell me where the infant is.”
“Fuck you,” Joseph told his father, the hate easy to hear in his tone. “Go to hell.”
“You’ll be the only one going to hell today,” Garrick responded. Then, without another word, he pulled a pistol out from under his suit coat and shot his son between the eyes.
Joseph fell backward, hitting the dirt with a thud. His sightless blue eyes stared up at the beautiful Colorado sky.
“No!” Logan screamed.
Ryder felt Felicity jerk behind him, but he didn’t take his eyes off Garrick. The man had shot his son in cold blood without a moment’s hesitation. There was no telling what else he might do.
The older man turned to face them, and all four brothers brought their pistols up and aimed them at the Mob boss.
Garrick held his arms open at his sides. One hand was open, the other still holding the pistol he’d used to kill his son, but his finger wasn’t on the trigger. He first looked at Felicity. “I apologize on behalf of my son for the trouble you’ve had to endure for the last decade,” he said in a formal tone. “I told him to stop. To leave you alone, and thought he had, but I was mistaken. You will be compensated for the trouble you’ve gone through, and you are free from any kind of retribution or attention from me or the rest of my family.”
Ryder heard Felicity gasp behind him. He didn’t know if it was in outrage or surprise, but he concentrated on the man’s hand movements. If his index finger even twitched toward the trigger of the pistol he was still holding, he’d blow him away.
Garrick then turned to Logan. The oldest Anderson brother had both hands gripping his pistol, and it was pointed right between Garrick’s eyes. He didn’t even flinch.
“I am going to do everything in my power to find your son and return him to you. My family and I have no beef with you and your brothers.”
“You might not have a beef with us, but we now have one with you,” Logan spat. “Your fucking son kidnapped my child.”
Garrick merely shrugged. “Won’t be the first time I’m hated, won’t be the last. But honestly, your anger isn’t what concerns me.” Then he turned to Ryder and reholstered his pistol as if he didn’t have a care in the world.
Thus far, the man hadn’t shown any emotion, but his next words were almost pleading. He sounded more upset than when he’d been asking his son to put down his guns. “Ryder, please tell Rex that I apologize for my son. He was acting on his own. Rex knows I didn’t approve of my son’s activities. Make sure he knows that what he did was not sanctioned by me or my brothers.”
“How did you know where we’d be?” Ryder asked.
Garrick shrugged. “Rex called me and informed me. I was already in Castle Rock to take my son in hand, but I was a little too late.”
Ryder’s head spun. He’d called his handler on the way up the mountain to let him know what was going down, but Rex hadn’t mentioned anything about calling Joseph’s father. What the fuck?
“So you’ll tell him?” Garrick insisted.
“I’m not telling him shit until we have my nephew back,” Ryder said calmly. “You want to keep the Mountain Mercenaries off your ass and out of your backyard, then you find Nathan Anderson and bring him home safely. Then I’ll consider it.”
Ryder knew he was pushing his luck, but the man in front of him wasn’t stupid. He was ruthless and had just killed his own son. And he desperately wanted to keep Rex out of his business.
“Deal,” he said, then nodded at Ryder. He ignored the other men and strode past them toward the sleek black Lincoln Town Car he’d arrived in. Two huge men, definitely bodyguards, stood next to the vehicle, their pistols now in their hands.
“We can’t just let him walk out of here,” Logan said, clearly agitated as Garrick walked back to his car. “We don’t know where Nate is.”
Blake put his hand on his brother’s arm. “He doesn’t know where he is.”
“How do you know?” Logan spat, shaking off Blake’s hand. “Maybe he was in on it the whole time. Maybe he’s going to take my son in the place of his.”
“I think he was being honest,” Nathan added.
“Fuck,” Logan swore. “Fuck, fuck fuck. I can’t go home and tell Grace that Nate is still out there somewhere, and the only person who knew where he was is now dead. I just can’t.” He looked up at Ryder, pleading with his eyes for his half brother to do something . . . anything.
Ryder felt sick inside. The only leverage they had was Garrick’s fear of Rex. He had no idea if the Chicago Mob boss really would look for little Nate, but he had to believe it. He’d get Rex to put pressure on him.
“I’m sorry, Logan. So sorry.”
They all watched as the Town Car turned around and sped down the dirt road. As the car disappeared, sirens sounded in the distance. Ryder knew Logan had called Detective Baker, and he in turn had probably called the Denver SWAT team. The brothers turned to look at Joseph. He was lying where he fell. Facedown in the dirt.
Felicity moved to Ryder’s side, and he immediately raised his arm and settled it on her shoulders. He was pleased as he could be that Felicity was free to live her life where and how she wanted without ever having to worry about Joseph making it a living hell again. But at what price? He knew as if she’d said the words out loud that she’d prefer to have Joseph stalking her once more if only it would mean baby Nate was back at home with his parents and twin brother.
The quintet stood motionless and silent while they waited for the officers to arrive.
Tears fell down Logan’s face soundlessly, and no one said a word, as they didn’t know what to say.
Chapter Nineteen
It had taken quite a while to be allowed to leave the scene. Detective Baker wanted information about the kidnapping, and the Denver PD also had a ton of questions about Joseph and what had happened. Felicity didn’t blame them. Dead bodies weren’t exactly unheard of, but they also weren’t everyday occurrences either.
The plan had been for Ryder to take Joseph out of the area before the police arrived at the rendezvous point. Ryder was going to take him down to Colorado Springs and to the rest of the Mountain Mercenaries. There, Joseph would’ve been interrogated, mostly by Black. The plan was that the brothers, and Felicity, were going to meet the officers and let them know that Joseph had run and that Ryder was hot on his trail.
But that had all gone to shit, and now they had to explain the dead body.
Logan, Blake, and Nathan let Ryder do the talking. They nodded in the appropriate places, and eventually the Denver PD detective allowed them all to go back to Castle Rock. He was made aware that baby Nate was still missing and reassured them that the CRPD would do whatever possible to find the baby, since he had been kidnapped in their jurisdiction.
Logan rode back home with Felicity and Ryder.
It was a mostly silent ride. Felicity had so many emotions, and adrenaline, whirling through her body, she almost felt sick. Relief. Terror. Disgust. Shock. And worry. Lots and lots of worry.
They pulled into Logan’s driveway, and he said softly. “Please give me a moment alone with Grace so I can tell her.”
“You want us to go?” Ryder asked.
“No,” Logan answered immediately, and Felicity quietly sighed in relief. She didn’t want to go anywhere. Wanted to be right by her best friend’s side until her baby was back in her arms.
“Then we’ll be right here until you need us,” Ryder told his brother.
Logan got out of the sports car, his shoulders slumped, and headed for the front door. Felicity sat right where she was. “I’ve never seen him so defeated,” Felicity said softly. “Even when Grace was missing for those couple of hours, he was more determined tha
n scared. And he was so great with Blake when he was on Alexis’s trail. But this . . . He doesn’t think he’s ever going to see his son again.” Felicity turned awkwardly in her seat to face Ryder. “Do you think Joseph killed him?”
Ryder shook his head. “No. I think he did just what he taunted. Dumped him with someone with plans to go back and get him. I think he really did want to torture Logan with the knowledge that his child was being raised by someone else to be a part of Joseph’s world.”
Ryder brought a hand up to Felicity’s face and slowly ran his thumb over the apple of her cheek. “It’s over, love. You don’t have to be afraid anymore.”
A sob hitched through her chest, but she covered her eyes with a hand and did her best to control herself. If she started crying now, she wouldn’t stop. It felt wrong to be so damn relieved when she knew how much pain Logan and Grace were in.
“God, I hate this,” Ryder said softly.
Felicity nodded but didn’t take her hand from her eyes.
A knock on Ryder’s window made her look up. It was Blake. Ryder opened his door. “We can go in now,” he said sadly.
Felicity opened her door and met Ryder at the front of the car. He grabbed her hand, and she did her best to control her tears once more. Even holding his hand felt different now that she never had to worry about Joseph tracking her down again.
They walked behind Blake into the house. The second they stepped inside, they could hear Grace crying as if her entire world had fallen apart . . . which she supposed it had.
They quietly stepped into the large living area and saw Grace and Logan sitting on the floor in the middle of the room. It looked like Grace had collapsed when her husband had told her the bad news about her baby.
Bailey was standing off to the side, holding Ace, and Joel had his arms around his sister, holding on for all he was worth.
The second they stepped into view, Grace’s tearstained face turned to Felicity. “This is your fault. If it wasn’t for you, I’d still have my baby!”
