Breaking Free (Steele Ridge Book 5)

by Adrienne Giordano

  “Is that what this is about? You want a raise?”

  A raise. If only.

  “No raise. I’m done. I can’t do this anymore. I miss my family.”

  “I’m sure.” He glanced around and his lips dipped into a disgusted frown. “Why don’t we reach a compromise? You come here, to this little Podunk town every few months. I’ll give you a week off each time. Come back for holidays. My girls would miss you, but if it’ll make you happy, they’ll adjust.”

  Now he brought his daughters into it? How had she never seen it before? The evil.

  “No,” she said. “It’s over, Phil. Obviously, if you leave me alone, our work together will remain confidential.”

  “Don’t be stupid.”

  “Pardon?”

  Gently, he set his coffee and plate aside and leaned toward her, his face just inches away, all that cool confidence morphing into focused rage. His dark eyes stabbed at her, and her pulse hammered so hard it stole her breath.

  Calm. Stay calm. Whatever threats he’d make, her family had assured her they’d help. She steadied herself, lifted her chin, and met Phil’s gaze.

  “You stupid bitch,” he said. “Do you really think I’d let you go? No one leaves me. Especially not you. I’ll bury you, your family, and that Green Beret you’re fucking.”

  Her head snapped back and he made a pfffting noise. “I knew something lured you back here. Hell, if I’d known it was a cock, I’d have gotten you one of those long ago.”

  The foul words hit her and her tight spine nearly snapped.

  This is what Phil did. Finger on the button.

  “You crazy old bat!” Mr. Greene yelled at Mrs. Royce. “You don’t know what the hell you’re saying.”

  Phil scoffed, as if the locals only proved the point about this Podunk town. My town. Podunk or not, he was on her turf and she didn’t have to listen to him. Not anymore.

  She set her hands on the table and pushed out of her seat. “Thank you for whatever kindness you’ve shown me, but it’s over, Phil. I’m not coming back to Vegas.”

  He snagged her wrist, gave it a hard squeeze while a greasy smile lifted his lips. “You want your brother in jail?”

  “Get your hand off her.”

  Micki whipped her head sideways, found Gage standing two feet from them, his feet planted, hands loose at his sides and his face molded into hard cement. Gone was Mr. All-American, her apple-cheeked lover.

  “Great,” Phil said. “A hero.”

  That wouldn’t sit well. Exactly what Phil wanted.

  “Yeah. A hero,” Gage said. “I’ll tell you one more time. Get your hands off of her or your suit will get bloody.”

  The ten or so patrons in the room all swung their way, curious gazes locked on. Mr. Greene used his cane to lever up from his chair, then smacked it on the table leg. Reinforcements by way of the geriatric ward.

  Phil let out a small huff. “Hicks. I’ve always hated dealing with you people.”

  Micki slid her gaze to his hand still on her. No more. She locked eyes with him. “Threatening to put my brother in jail won’t work anymore. I told him everything. The video, the DNA, all of it. He’s ready for war. And, with all that I've seen, so am I.”

  Gage took a step closer and Phil, apparently realizing the hicks would come to her aid, let go.

  Down deep, a small part of her broke off. Backward as it was, she’d cared about him. Cared about Tommy—Tomas. Now?

  Over.

  She moved away, heading for the door with Gage.

  “Mikayla,” he called, “you've known me a long time.”

  Before he said anything that would get the gossips going, she turned back to him and he stood, getting right into her personal space.

  He leaned in, keeping his eyes on hers. “Do you really think you can blackmail me?”

  Gage led Micki out of the Triple B into the bright morning sunshine and checked over his shoulder. No one following. Phil Flynn being the master strategist that he was, Gage assumed the fixer’s henchman lurked somewhere, but Tomas hadn’t appeared yet.

  Having no idea how Micki had even gotten into town, he hooked a left out of the B, the two of them hustling down Main Street. Micki kept quiet beside him. That alone pissed him off.

  What in hell was she doing meeting with this guy? At least she’d had the good sense to do it in public, but—Christ—this guy was an animal. An animal with some sort of twisted hold on her.

  “You're crazy for meeting him.”

  She halted in the middle of the sidewalk, her eyes narrowing so hard it looked painful. Disregarding the stroller moms power-walking toward them, she shrugged free of his grip and smacked his hand away.

  “Watch it. You don’t get to talk to me like that. I’m done with controlling men.”

  Oh, nice. Now he was controlling. Wasn’t this always the way. Everyone wanted his help, and then when he helped, they got pissy. Classic. Double-edged sword that one. And a woman like Micki, with issues that needed tending, dragons to be slayed, and all that bullcrap, for him? Catnip. High-quality.

  The moms cruised by, both of them staring him down, obviously ready to come to her aid. One of the women curled her lip and Micki held her hand up. “I’m fine. Thanks for your concern, though.”

  Pissed as she might be, she’d covered his ass on that one because the women kept moving.

  “I’m not controlling you. Hell, it’s probably the other way around because I was going about my normal business when your brother called and told me to haul my ass to the B.”

  “Which brother?”

  “Britt. Randi called him. He’s working a job on the mountain. He took a chance that I was still in town. Which, luckily, I was.”

  Micki sighed. “I’d have been fine. Just because I’m back doesn’t mean you boys get to order me around. I know Phil as well as he knows me. Something he’s not used to. He’s used to dealing with strangers and it’s throwing him. I just have to figure out how to get rid of him.”

  “Easy. You threaten him. Turn his shit back on him. And then hold on to your ass. You do that with the help of the people who care about you.”

  She flapped her arms. “Oh, here we go. But guess what, Captain America? I did that. And it backfired royally. I've been trying to hack into Phil's system for three days to compile as much evidence as I can. I thought I could use his own tactics against him. As you can see, he's not afraid of me. Whatever I have, whatever I dig up, he will always respond and he can still put my brother in jail. Period.”

  The rattle of an engine sounded and Mrs. Cunningham pulled into a parking space. Her son was career military, a Marine, God save him, and each time she ran into Gage, she shared all the latest news from overseas. Knowing the stress of having a loved one in a war-torn country, Gage always took the time to talk with her. Sometimes for an hour. Least he could do. No matter how much it screwed up his schedule. Today? He didn’t have it in him.

  She worked her way out of her car and wandered to the curb. “Hello, you two. Don’t you look fierce on such a fine morning.”

  “Ma’am,” Gage said.

  “Hi, Mrs. Cunningham.”

  “Hello, Mikayla. Nice to see you. Gage, I have an update from Mark.”

  Damn. He couldn’t do this now. As much as he wanted to be respectful, chitchat wouldn’t work. Not with his mind overloading. Still, he looked her straight in the eye. “Is he okay?”

  “Oh, yes. He’s just fine.”

  Phew. Now that he’d determined all was well, he’d have to put her off. For the first time. “Ma’am, I’d like to hear about it and I hate to be rude, but we’re in the middle of something. Can I find you later today when I have extra time?”

  “He’s over in Pakistan—wait.” She paused, snapped her head back, and blinked.

  The woman had gotten so used to him always being available, no matter what time of day, she almost looked…offended. Something that simultaneously irritated and amused him. At that moment, Mrs. Cunningham repres
ented everything he needed to change. The constant need for him to disregard his own agenda so he could please someone else. Right now, he was pissed enough about this Micki situation that he couldn’t, wouldn’t make someone else happy. For once, he came first.

  Mrs. Cunningham took pity on him and patted his arm. “Certainly. I’m sorry to interrupt.”

  “That’s no problem, ma’am. You couldn’t have known.”

  The woman walked off, leaving him with Micki.

  “Did you have to be nasty to her?”

  What? “You are just spoiling for a fight today. Why? So you can run again?”

  “Shut up.”

  “No. If you want to run, do it, but you're not blaming me for it. No way, sweetheart. And I wasn’t nasty. We’re busy here.”

  “Actually, we’re not. I’m sorry Britt bothered you. I thought I should handle it alone.”

  Gage made a buzzing noise. “Sorry, babe. Not happening.”

  “What?”

  “You can’t take this guy on yourself.” He held up his hands. “Before you get pissy and wax on about how you’ve been on your own and taking care of yourself, no one should deal with this maniac solo. His reach is too long. We need to pool resources.”

  When his statement was met with blessed silence, he took that as agreement. Might as well call it a win because he wasn't exactly getting many of those this morning.

  “How’d you get into town? Tell me you stole Jonah’s bike again.”

  “I’m getting my exercise.”

  “Where is it?”

  “I locked it behind Brynne’s shop. Why?”

  “Because we’re throwing it in my truck and I’m taking you home. Where we’ll tackle Reid and Jonah and figure out how to turn the tables on Phil Flynn.”

  Gage, Micki, and Reid marched into Jonah’s command center and found the billionaire with his nose in his computer screen. What else was new?

  Jonah had knocked out the dividing wall between what had been two bedrooms and created a combination office/bedroom suite. Which explained the dust collecting in his designated spot in the training center. The Baby Billionaire, as he was affectionately known, preferred staying in his own space, fiddling with his computers and gaming software.

  Gage also suspected Jonah didn’t want him assuming the boss was watching. Something he appreciated, considering the healing time he’d needed.

  Jonah dragged his attention from the giant monitor in front of him, looked at Micki first, then Reid, then Gage.

  “I can only imagine,” he said.

  “Listen up.” Reid jerked a thumb in Micki’s direction. “She just dropkicked Phil Flynn.”

  Jonah swiveled his chair to fully face them. “What now?”

  “I told him I wasn’t going back.”

  “And how did that go over?”

  Micki swerved her lips one way, then the other. “Could have been worse. Captain America here showed up and got into a pissing match with him.”

  Good one. Gage held up a finger. “At the request of Britt, who called me because Randi had called him to say Micki was in the B with Flynn.”

  “Enter Captain America,” Reid gave him a winning smile. “I like that name.”

  “Fuck off.”

  Micki flopped onto the love seat on the other side of Jonah’s desk. “Now, now, children.”

  Gage shook his head. These people. Sometimes it was damned hard to keep them all focused. “If we’re all done screwing around, maybe we can get on with it? I have work to do. I mean, it’s not like we don’t have a training center opening soon.”

  “Right,” Jonah said. “Is Flynn leaving?”

  Micki stayed quiet, so Gage took that one. “Not without your sister.”

  “He’ll go,” Micki said. “Eventually. His business is in Vegas and the thing Phil loves most is money.”

  Jonah sat forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “I want him gone. Him being here isn’t good for any of us. We have enough distractions.”

  “Okay, Baby Billionaire, what do you suggest?”

  “Well, lunkhead, I have calls in to a couple of criminal attorneys from Asheville. If this asshole thinks he’ll blackmail us with my own fucking DNA and that video, I want to know my options. I’ve got money to burn, so Phil Flynn can shove that up his ass.”

  16

  Micki appreciated Jonah’s tough talk, but he didn't understand Phil’s temperament. In his world, nothing was too extreme. Plus, this went beyond business. This was personal. If Phil couldn’t control his own people, how could he be expected to control others?

  “Guys,” Micki said, “this isn’t about me or Jonah. This is about Phil's ability to control a situation.”

  “Okay,” Gage said. “Then what do you suggest? You know him. What’ll back him off?”

  “Me going back to Vegas.”

  Gage sliced a hand across his throat. “Not an option.”

  Both Jonah and Reid swung their heads in his direction, staring at him with their own brand of curiosity and wonder. By now, after the pants issue last night and Gage and Micki showing up at the B nearly at the same time, Reid clearly suspected something. And he’d already warned her it wouldn’t work between them.

  None of his business.

  Jonah waved a hand. “He’s right. If here is where you want to be, then that’s it. I’ll call the lawyers again. We’ll go into Asheville and talk to them. See what’s what.”

  “In the meantime,” Gage said, “I’d like to keep a better eye on Flynn. I want to know where he is at all times.”

  Reid nodded. “He's staying at Mrs. Tasky's B and B. I’ll poke around, see what he’s driving.”

  “We’ve got those GPS units TechPro sent us to beta test. If we slip one on Flynn’s rental, we can monitor his location.”

  “Good idea. I’m on that.” Reid took two steps and the lights went out.

  What the heck?

  A crack of sunlight streamed from the bottom of the window blinds and mixed with the glow of Jonah’s laptop screen, but otherwise darkness devoured the room. Even Jonah’s giant computer monitors had gone black.

  Closest to the door, Gage checked the hallway. “Lights are out there, too.”

  “Hang on,” Reid said. “Mom sometimes blows a breaker. Let me check the fuse box.”

  Reid left and Micki’s brain looped. Could it be a coincidence that she’d just defied Phil and suddenly the power went out? Considering part of her duties included hacking into phone service providers and utility companies?

  Just a breaker. Unlikely.

  Gage stood in the doorway, half his body shadowed in darkness, but still looking over at her.

  “Guys,” she said, “Phil has a system.”

  “Don’t we all,” Jonah cracked.

  “Yes, but Phil’s includes crashing into people’s personal lives and disrupting things.”

  “Like the power?”

  “Yes. He’s had me hack into power companies before.” She shot out of her chair. “Jonah, give me that laptop. Do we still have Wi-Fi?”

  Jonah swiveled to his laptop and checked the screen. “Uh, yeah. Why?”

  “He’ll have everything shut down. Cable, Wi-Fi, electric. All of it. And call your bank. Before he cleans out your accounts.”

  While Reid called the power company, Gage hauled ass to the training center only to find the building dark and the furnace silenced. Cursing Flynn, he stood in the middle of the reception area taking in the eerie, inherent silence that came with power outages. From the time he was a kid, blackouts and the weird tension that came with them gave him the creeps. Flynn—the son of a bitch—worked fast. Assuming this wasn’t some fluke coincidence and the power on the property, on a sunny day lacking a whisper of wind, had randomly crapped out on them.

  His phone rang and he ripped it from his back pocket. Reid. He punched the screen hoping his buddy had good news.

  “What’s up?”

  “You got lights down there?”

  �
��Nope. What’d the power company say?”

  “They’re stumped.”

  Translation: We have no fucking idea when this will be fixed. Excellent.

  “And what? We’re supposed to sit around with our thumbs up our asses while they figure it out?”

  The front door swished open and he turned to see Micki storming into the building, laptop in hand.

  “Reid, I’ll call you back. Two minutes.” He disconnected just as Micki strode past him. “What's up?”

  He followed as she hustled down the hall, her boots clunking against the tile. “Phil thinks this power failure will scare me. He knows that I know this is a warning shot. The precursor to something bigger.”

  “Safe to assume, yes.”

  “He’s expecting me to fall in line and come back to him. His threats have always kept me from defying him.” She jabbed her thumb in the air. “I’ve been under his thumb too long. Let’s change things up. Shall we?”

  “How?”

  “By turning the power back on.”

  Once in his office, she set the laptop on his desk and hauled his guest chair closer. “I’m going to screw with him.”

  Oh, this girl, so complicated.

  He moved around the desk. “Well, all right then.”

  Her fingers pounded the keyboard, moving like lightning. He’d seen Jonah do magic at the computer, but the way she typed, the myriad of code flying across her screen, was something different. Something instinctive and on a whole other level.

  “Shit on a shingle,” he said. “You’re fast.”

  “Years of practice. Unfortunately.”

  Half in awe and determined not to distract her, he stood behind her, keeping his mouth shut while she did her thing.

  The seconds ticked by, stretching to a minute while she made a variety of grunting noises, occasionally clucking her tongue in some sort of Micki hacking language.

  Finally, she held up her hand to high-five him. “I’m in.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yep.” She went back to the keyboard. “Hang on, handsome.”

  The lights in his office flicked on. Three minutes. That’s how long it had taken her to hack into the power company’s server. His time in the Army had hardened him to a lot of things. The Internet—and what occurred on it—wasn't one of them. The whole damn thing terrified him.