by Sybil Bartel
She jerked out of my grasp. “You will if you step foot on his compound. You think he won’t shoot you on sight?”
I asked the one question that’d been churning all morning. “Does he know Candle’s alive?”
Surprise widened her eyes then anger narrowed them. “No.” She stepped back, her head shaking. “You are not using him. Candle’s done nothing but protect me for three years.”
“Like he’s protecting you now?” My own anger flared. “I just had my sights on four LCs salivating to get your head.” And she was fucking protecting the asshole that let it happen? Candle should’ve silenced Rip the second he realized Rip figured out who she was, but he didn’t. Candle let him walk out of his house and wreak fucking havoc. “Candle let that happen,” I fumed.
“Don’t you dare make this about him. You’re not using Candle. This was set in motion long before some asshole biker saw my branding.”
And there it was. The series of events I had no control over but was fuming I didn’t know about six months ago. I played out every scenario in my head, wondering where we’d be if we weren’t up against a loaded gun to her head. The end game still would’ve been the same, and the only surefire way to fix this still would’ve been Stephens dead, but goddamn it, I still wanted the advantage of time.
Taking the crates and showing up at his compound with my head on a fucking platter wasn’t gonna cut it. I needed a plan, and I needed leverage to get through the compound gates. Once I had an audience with the prick, the guns would speak for themselves. I knew how those religious fucks operated. He wouldn’t be able to resist the hardware. But I needed a goddamn in.
“If you don’t want to use Candle, then give me something I can leverage to get on the compound.” She had to know something I could use. One weakness was all I needed. I didn’t want to raze the compound and kill innocents, but God help me, I was fucking close to considering that option.
“You already have it.”
I eyed her, not liking the quickness of her response. “If you’re gonna say—”
“Use me.”
“No.” No fucking way.
“What other option do you have?” She kept talking like I was gonna consider this bullshit. “If you walk up with me, no one’s going to shoot right away because I’m a woman and those assholes are always looking to recruit fuck toys. And once I’m recognized, they’ll back off and take me to River anyway.” Her hands went to her hips. “There you go, problem solved.”
My blood fucking boiled. “You are not stepping foot on that compound.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You said to fight. You said to let you do your thing. Well fine, you want to give guns to River? Then I’ll walk up and hand them to him.” Her arms crossed like she knew she had me. “This is me fighting.”
“Call it whatever bullshit you want, it’s not happening. I’m not using you as bait.” Out of the fucking question.
“What the hell do you think I already am?” She held a hand up. “You know what, don’t bother answering that. I have a better idea.” She turned and was walking toward the garage before I’d pulled my head out of my ass. “Talon!”
I ROUNDED THE CORNER OF the house, half expecting André to tackle me before I made it to the garage.
“Talon!” I made my way around a big box truck. “Where the fuck are you?”
Shirtless, and his pants wet, Talon’s muscles bulged as he shoved a long wooden crate into the truck. “What’s up, darlin’? You miss me already?”
Talon wasn’t someone you missed. He was an incurable flirt you tolerated. I wasn’t pissed that I no longer had a job. I was pissed I wouldn’t have him as a backup plan. Despite his constant smile and bullshit carefree attitude, Talon was a fighter. I’d figured if anyone ever came in his surf shop looking to make two million off my head, Talon would shoot first, ask questions later. He’d either kill the asshole trying to kill me or he’d take me out himself and collect the money. That was why I’d worked for him.
I ignored his comment about missing him. “It’s your lucky day. You get to settle an argument between me and Cuban Boy.”
Talon chuckled. “Not happenin’. You forget I spent too many months in a fuckin’ hadji sand trap with Patrol. I know what he’s like when he’s pissed off. Not for nothin’, but it doesn’t hold a candle to you.” He winked at me. “Speakin’ of candles, where’s your biker guardian angel? He let you out to play with the big boys now?” Talon jumped off the lift gate as Neil hefted a crate into the truck.
André shoved past me and grabbed a crate from the other side of the garage. “Put a fucking shirt on, Talerco.”
Talon flexed his arms like a body builder. “What? Too much competition for you, Patrol?” He grabbed another crate.
“André says I shouldn’t be the bait to get us onto the compound,” I blurted.
Talon looked at me as he lifted the crate into the truck. “Compound?”
“River Ranch,” I corrected.
Talon froze. His smile dropped and his expression locked down. “What did you just say?”
Neil walked past me. “I did not give him your identity.”
“Wait a fuckin’ minute.” Talon glared at me. “River Ranch?”
André slammed his crate into the truck. “Jesu-fucking-cristo.”
Talon’s glare cut to André. “Start talkin’. Now.”
To my surprise, André walked right past him and grabbed another crate without a word. Neil did the same. The silence in the garage was fucking deafening until André threw another crate into the truck.
Talon stepped up to me and shoved a finger at my chest. “Listen the fuck up. If you’re gettin’ Patrol involved with River fuckin’ Stephens, I will cut you down myself. I don’t give a fuck what kinda history me and you got. We are not friends.”
He no sooner got the last word out than André was on him.
Grabbing his wrist, André twisted Talon’s arm behind his back and shoved the back of his head, slamming him face-first into the side of the truck. “Leave her the fuck alone,” he roared.
Neil calmly put another crate on the truck.
His head turned to the side, his arm wrenched behind his back, Talon glared at André. “You done?”
“You threaten her again, you’ll be done.”
Talon shoved off the truck, yanked his arm out of André’s grasp and spun. “Why the fuck are you gettin’ involved with River Ranch? That’s fuckin’ career suicide, not to mention a fuckin’ death wish. That asshole Stephens puts goddamn bounties on anyone he hates and fuckin’ pays them.”
André glared at Talon. “I know what Stephens does.” His nostrils flaring with each inhale, he turned and walked back to the crates.
Talon’s stare swung to me. His eyebrows drew together, his head cocked to the side, then two heartbeats later, his eyes went wide. “Mother. Fuckin’. Shit.”
I saved him from saying it. “I’m River Stephens’s daughter.”
Talon slowly shook his head like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “All these years, right under my fuckin’ roof.” He looked incredulous.
Yeah, it was shitty of me. What the fuck was I supposed to say? “André’s going to trade the guns for the bounty on my head.”
Talon’s head whipped toward André. “Are you fuckin’ insane? You’re gonna arm the crazy fuck who held an eighteen-hour standout against the ATF?”
André threw another crate on the truck. “You got a better idea?”
“Yeah,” Talon scoffed. “Use your fuckin’ sniper skills, Patrol. What the fuck?”
“We will retrieve the weapons at a later date.” Neil carried a crate like it weighed nothing. “Keep loading. We are wasting time.”
“Exactly,” I agreed. “More LCs could show up. That’s why you should use me to get on the compound. River isn’t going to let any of you get within a hundred yards of him. He’ll kill all of you on sight.”
“No,” André growled.
Neil leveled André with
a knowing look. “Then what is your plan?”
“Shit.” Talon scrubbed a hand over his head. “She’s got a point.”
André glared at Talon. “Just fucking load.”
Talon grabbed another crate, and the three of them silently kept loading.
I lasted thirty seconds before I went to grab a crate, but André cut in front of me. Glaring at him, I reached for a second one.
Neil stepped in front of me. “This is too heavy for a woman.”
“Fuckin’ Christ,” Talon muttered, shaking his head. “Here we go.”
Seriously? “A woman?” Was he for fucking real? I hip checked him, not that it did shit to make him move, but it got my point across.
Tall as hell, and bigger than a damn Viking, Neil stepped back but he didn’t say a word.
I knew a challenge when I saw one. I grabbed one end of a crate, and holy fuck, I could barely lift the end.
Saving me from myself, Talon stepped up and grabbed the other end. “One, two, three, lift.” He lifted his end.
Together we carried it to the truck, and my arms shook with strain just getting it high enough to clear the lift gate. Sweat broke out across my forehead, and the second we set the damn thing down, my arms turned to jelly.
I walked back to grab another one, but Talon stopped me. “Get us some waters.”
I stepped out of Talon’s way as he hefted the next crate by himself. “Are we going to talk about this, or is everyone going to just silently load and not say shit?”
Talon smirked, André ignored me, and Neil gave me a look that looked like every other damn expression of his, disapproving.
“Fine.” I threw my hands up. “I’ll handle shit myself.” I stomped up the stairs to the kitchen and was about to slam the door shut when I heard Talon.
“What’s she gonna do?”
“No clue,” André answered.
“She ain’t wrong, Patrol.”
I paused just inside the kitchen and listened.
“Fuck you,” André snapped. “I’m not sending her in there.” His voice got quieter. “You don’t know what she went through to get out.”
“Whatever it is, she’s still standin’,” Talon countered.
“Yeah?” André asked. “For how long? You think he won’t shoot her on sight to save himself two million? You know exactly how sick fucks like that think. He won’t hesitate.”
“So we put a vest on her. Hell, a helmet.”
André scoffed. “No helmet’s gonna stop a sniper.”
“You know for a fact he’s got skilled shooters?” Talon asked.
The sound of a crate being dropped on the truck echoed up the stairs.
“Jesucristo. I don’t know fucking shit, okay?” André snapped. “No recon, no sat images, no fucking intel because he’s been a fucking hermit since the last raid and this whole thing came down this morning like a fucking shitstorm. I don’t know what kinda firepower he has. I don’t even know how many women and children are on that damn compound. I can’t go in and shoot every asshole I see, and I don’t have fucking time to set up a long-distance shot. She doesn’t have time.” Another crate slammed down. “She’s already compromised.”
“What ’bout Candle?”
André swore in Spanish. “What about him? She’s in this fucking situation because he didn’t contain it.”
“Then let’s use him.” Talon calmly suggested. “Tell him to—”
“No,” André cut Talon off. “I’m doing this on my own.”
“We’re doin’ this,” Talon corrected.
“I’m not asking,” André bit out.
“Good, ’cause me and Vikin’ ain’t givin’ you a choice.”
My heart took a hit hearing André say he was going to keep Candle out of this.
Two more crates hit the bed of the truck, but André didn’t reply to Talon.
“Good, now that we got that shit settled, let’s come up with a fuckin’ plan. Kendall!” Talon hollered up the stairs. “Get your ass down here.”
I grabbed four waters out of the fridge before heading downstairs. I handed Talon a bottle first because he was closest.
Talon studied me for a moment with his green-eyed gaze. “River fuckin’ Stephens.” He shook his head. “Damn, woman.”
“Surprise,” I said dryly, shockingly not fazed by having him know my real identity. A week ago, the thought of anyone knowing who I really was would’ve sent me into a panic.
I handed a water to Neil. He took the bottle without comment, but he stared at me like he could see right through me. Even in the heat of the late afternoon, he wasn’t even slightly sweaty. He was so big psychically, he looked out of place everywhere. But he also looked like he belonged anywhere, like he’d adapt to anything.
“Nice talking to you.” I nodded at Neil before turning to André.
With his back to me, André scanned the driveway.
“Here.” I offered him a water.
“Gracias,” he muttered, taking it without looking at me.
Damn it. I didn’t want to fight with him. “Truce?” I asked quietly, standing next to him.
“Don’t need one.” Taking a sip of his water, he still wouldn’t look at me.
I watched his throat move with a swallow, and I remembered his mouth on me. “So this is it?” We were done?
His shoulders rose and fell like he was taking a calming breath, but when he turned to me, anger set every angle of his face into sharp planes. “You want me, but you don’t fucking trust me?” he whispered hoarsely. “Which is it, chica? Because you don’t get both.”
I fought to stay calm. “André—”
“Fucking pick.” He threw his water bottle in the truck. “Then you can ask for a damn truce.” He jumped up on the lift gate, angrily shoved a few crates back, then pulled the truck’s roll-up door down. “Neil,” he barked. “You got another truck coming? That’s only sixty crates.”
“Sixty is all you need,” Neil stated.
“That’s only half of what we have. I told you I needed—”
Neil interrupted him. “Sixty crates. Two million.”
Two million.
Two million dollars.
In guns, going to River.
“We can’t….” My legs suddenly rubber, I sagged back against the wall and shook my head as reality set in. “We can’t give those to River. You don’t understand.”
“Can you get satellite of the compound?” Talon asked André, ignoring me.
André nodded. “I’ll have Tyler see what he can get.” He pulled out his phone and sent a text.
“What was the population after the last raid?” Neil asked André.
They all fucking ignored me.
“I don’t know.” André glanced at Neil. “Ask your ATF contact.”
“We are not getting him involved until after the fact.” Neil finished his water.
“We should hit at first light,” Talon commented. “Bring your men, arm up, walk the fuck up to the front gate and tell ’em we have his daughter.” He shrugged. “Then tell him he can drop the hit and have the guns or he can die. Hey!” Talon snapped his fingers and looked at Neil. “You still got that C4?”
“Ja,” Neil answered with zero intonation.
Talon nodded, suddenly excited. “Yeah, fuck yeah, this works. We’ll wire the perimeter, close enough to make a statement, then detonate if he fucks with us.”
“Jesucristo,” André snapped. “We’re not blowing up women and kids. And I’m not involving anyone on my team.”
Neil moved toward the driver side of the truck. “Three vehicles plus the truck. Front gate approach.” He looked at André. “His daughter stays in one of the vehicles, use video feed for confirmation. Make the offer, give a three-minute window. No response is an automatic retreat. Four minutes is an automatic retreat. They fire, we return fire and retreat. If he takes the deal, we unload and retreat, then call ATF. Put a tracker in one of the crates. You and his daughter take the Cobalt to my
marina slip, stay off the roads until tomorrow.”
“Damn, Vikin’.” Talon crossed his arms. “If you had that shit all worked out, why didn’t you fuckin’ say so?”
“I am saying.”
“No fuckin’ kiddin’. Operation fuck shit up. Classic Vikin’ warfare tactics.” Talon shook his head but looked like he approved of the plan. “I’m in, but I still say we use the C4.”
Both André and Neil barked “No” at the same time.
“All right, all right.” Talon held his hands up. “Nothin’ doin’, nothin’ doin’. I get it, no innocent casualties.”
“Kendall’s not going. Video feed will be sufficient. She stays at Luna and Associates with my men.”
What? No. “I’m going.” Three years of hiding, I was done.
“No fucking way,” André growled.
“Yes, fucking way.” I didn’t care how fucked-up it was, I wanted to see River, and not that she’d care, but I wanted to see my birth mother too. If I was being honest with myself, I’d admit I also wanted to see a certain hunter, but I wasn’t about to explain that to any of these guys. “If you think a video feed will appease River, you’re out of your mind. He won’t even consider taking the guns unless he sees me. He’s conniving and manipulative, and he won’t take a straight trade. He’ll throw some bullshit out, guaranteed. Seeing me breathing will be the least of it.”
André fumed and Neil stared, but it was Talon who spoke. “What kind of bullshit?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t been around him in years, but it’ll be something.” Something involving me, I was sure of it. And it wouldn’t be fucking pleasant. “We need to be prepared.”
Talon’s eyes narrowed. “We or you?”
André’s head snapped up, and his intense stare zeroed in on me.
I sighed. “That’s how River works. He never gives without getting something in return.”
“What is he gonna want?” André ground out each word and bit the last one off like he was about to lose it.
I couldn’t look at André when I answered. “I don’t know.” But River thought women were only good for two things, menial labor and fucking.
“We’re not goin’ to let anythin’ happen, Patrol,” Talon promised.
