Brother's Keeper V: Wylie (the complete series BOX SET): NEW RELEASE + Series Box SET included!

by Stephanie St. Klaire

My sweet family – I love you forever and always…

  And my loyal readers whose endless support keeps me humble…

  Each one collected in the storm…

  Let’s dance…

  1

  She was being followed.

  It didn’t surprise her; she expected it, really. Most women wouldn’t go out at such a late hour – alone – because they received a cryptic text message, but Felicity Nichols wasn’t most women. She was smart, savvy, and trained by the best. She was taught to protect herself by any and all means – again, by the best – the O’Reilly brothers.

  She changed her route, testing the idea that someone was after her. Would he or she follow, or was this nothing more than a coincidence? Too bad Felicity didn’t believe in coincidence. She subscribed to following her intuition and that all things are purposeful, not random just because, wrong place at the wrong time bullshit. The minute she left the safe confines of Watermark Tower, she knew it was game on.

  She turned left at the end of the block, followed by another left, careful to stay in a well-lit, populated area until she had the mark on whoever seemed to be trailing her. Though it was late, the area was anything but asleep. In this part of Portland, it was a 24-hour shit show, where old industrial met a new trend of renovated urban living, and the line between the two was grossly blurred from street corner to street corner.

  Unlike her waterfront residence in a new upscale part of town, this place was a mixed bag of families and vagrants – some fallen on hard times, some up to no good. Even with a strong police presence, there was no comfort as she continued on. Felicity had to keep moving and push everything else aside since her past – one that she thought had been dead and buried – requested a meeting. Demanded rather.

  Watching the reflection cast on the row of store front windows, it was confirmed – she was being tailed. By a man, or so the broad shoulders and long stride confirmed along with the bulkier swagger her new shadow suggested. His head was down, his face camouflaged by a billed hat – not that the dimly lit street lamps would reveal a face through the reflection anyway.

  Never assume, she reminded herself. Your assailant should never be guessed or underestimated. That had been lesson one in her training, meaning this could be a woman. Albeit, a rather large, masculine woman. It didn’t matter though – if it was a woman, she’d kick her ass too.

  Picking up her pace, Felicity lured her stalker to the edge of the city life, to a quieter part of town, where there were fewer people out in the open and more lurking in the shadows. The streets were dimmer, the alleys darker – and there were plenty to disappear into. This had been a set up. A trap. Revenge. Tall-Dark-and-Mysterious was sent as the finisher – plot twist – she was the finisher. She was setting up her own trap for revenge.

  With nearly an entire city block lead, she veered a quick left into a long dark alley that was plenty quiet. Lined on both sides with dumpsters, old, broken-down furniture and debris, it hosted the perfect stage for what was about to unfold. Out of sight, Felicity fell into a brisk jog before ducking into the dark recessed doorway of an old, brick building, completely camouflaged by the inky shadows of the night’s sky.

  Then she waited. With her eyes closed, she calmed her breathing and clung to the senses that would alert her to her predator’s presence. Felicity pushed down the panic trying to spill over and consume her. She would reconcile the what, how, and why, when the threat pursuing her was in check. Right now, in this moment, she needed to fight. Take down her would-be assailant. Ask questions later.

  Felicity stopped being a victim years ago and committed to being a full-time badass when she was forced to engage in criminal activity guised as a real nine-to-five gig. She was a tech savvy girl, naïve and unknowingly hacking into some of the world’s biggest financial institutions and tapping accounts belonging to some of the richest and most powerful people one could cross hairs with.

  Hired to test cyber security, or so she thought, Felicity fell for the very scheme she had been engaged in. Rather than hacking in to expose cyber weaknesses with benign consequences, she was funneling money into offshore accounts instead. When she hacked her employer and realized she had been stealing for him rather than faux stealing, she threatened to expose him. Naïve.

  Rather than assuming the title of felon in a federal prison, she was hired by the group that finally busted her. The O’Reillys. She was good at what she did, too good to waste in a prison – especially since it wasn’t of her own volition but that of blackmail. She was working to save her mom and sister who were held captive until Felicity finished what she started.

  It wasn’t clear how the O’Reillys got to keep her rather than hand her over to the Feds, but it didn’t matter much to her. She lost her family in the deal – they didn’t make it out. The O’Reillys became her family and would have her ass if they knew that she was about to go toe to toe with the past they saved her from.

  Those memories were quickly suppressed as the mundane sounds of the city were muffled by the approaching footsteps and whispered mumbles. He was getting closer, and she was ready, more than ready. Nerves turned to an unwavering drive fueled by years of built up angst and rage.

  The man stilled at the sound of a hissing cat and tipping trash can. What a Cliché, she thought. How ironic that her stalker stood only feet from her, where she now stalked him completely undetected. Either she was really good at this, or he really sucked. Reminding herself who she was and that she was trained by the best there was an amplified sense of confidence she hadn’t had the chance to exercise. Until now.

  When he moved on, distracted by whatever was on his watch, she stepped out from the shadows, matching him step for step as stealthily as she could. Timing was everything. It was the key to either falling victim or heroic badassery, and victim was no longer in her vocabulary.

  In one swift move, Felicity delivered a sharp kick between the man’s legs while he was in between steps, offering the element of surprise that would lend her the upper hand. It also paralyzed his ability to fight back while she took him down.

  A grunt escaped him as she landed a knee to his side. He was hunched over with one hand on his side and one cupping his goods. Sliding around him, her tight fist met his jaw, sending his head the opposite direction where his face then met her knee, sending the glasses he was wearing across the dark alley. He’s wearing glasses? Odd, she thought. Not that there was a rule about bad guys and corrective eyewear - it just seemed like a liability. Like it just had been.

  The sound of flesh hitting flesh and cracking of either bones or joints left her feeling bold. Dropping her elbow to the center of his exposed back forced the man to his knees. This was easy – too easy – he wasn’t fighting back. At all. It started to mess with her head. He was at least a foot taller and had one hundred pounds on her, all muscle, given the firm meeting her fist made with each blow.

  She continued to fight, though her motivation was shifting. Now she was afraid. It almost felt desperate. Something was off. Was this part of the set up? Stalling to take in her surroundings after provoking a man twice her size wasn’t the answer. The building panic wasn’t either.

  Sure, she was disabling him, hurting him even, but he wasn’t going down. Not as hard as she had hoped anyway, and she was getting tired. The fact that he wasn’t fighting back spoke volumes – he was waiting her out. Fear took over. She couldn’t let him up because running would be her only option, and she was done running.

  “Not today, you son-of-a…” she yelled, landing fist after fist on her target. “You followed the wrong…bitch.”

  Bitch was said softly and lacked the dramatics she was going for. She wasn’t one to swear, so it fell from her mouth with less conviction than she hoped for. An odd grunt escaped the man, something of a snort. Had he just laughed at her?

  “You think this is funny?” she fired, “You like getting your – your ass kicked by a girl? Next time you’ll pick on someone your own size, you…buffoon!”<
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  Another snort could be heard, but the flare in her temper it caused was short lived because with her next swing, he blocked her hit. With the next, he grabbed her fist, then the other. In a quick move, he spun her on her heels, pulling her against his body with her arms crossed in front of her. He held her that way with a single hand while the other covered her mouth, dulling her scream.

  It had been a ruse, she thought. He let her wear herself out so she would be easy to take down. Hysteria flooded her to the point she couldn’t think straight. Struggling against his embrace was pointless; he had her despite stomping on his feet and tossing her head back. She was too short and only made contact with his chest, which hurt her more than him.

  Breathing became harder as her body gave in to the panic coursing through her. She knew who sent him and what he was capable of. This was the end of her. She could feel it in his tight grip. Afraid to lose consciousness, she halted the struggle, giving in to his hold while she collected herself and decided what her next move was. If there was a next move.

  What had she done? Why had she given in to temptation and left the safety of Watermark Tower to chase a ghost? She should have told someone what was going on, that she had been contacted. Nobody knew, which meant they wouldn’t know where to look for her when they finally discovered she was missing. It would be late morning before anyone became suspicious. She didn’t know whether she had that long.

  Confidence came with learning to protect herself, or so she thought. Now she realized that it was more ego than confidence. The man who held her was strong, he felt like a brick wall behind her. What had she been thinking? Of course, he would overpower her. He outsmarted her too.

  All she tried to do was protect those she cared about most. Keep this as far away from them as she could. Felicity couldn’t deal with another loss at the hands of the madman behind her current plight. It all backfired as life tended to do for her.

  Scared. That summed it up. She was scared. Her plan didn’t go beyond ducking into a dark alley in a seedy part of town and kicking some guy’s ass. What she did know was the terror that raged within was overwhelming.

  She was going to die tonight. She could feel it to her core. Given the stiff ridge she felt sharply poised against her back, she had to assume it wouldn’t be quick and painless. That he was going to have his way with her first.

  Her stomach rolled as the bile rose to her throat at the thought of what was to come – what she had done – and how it was all going to end. A single tear escaped despite trying desperately to conceal the anxiety her realization evoked.

  “Are you about done, Felicity? Or, are we going to go another fucking round?” the man questioned between gritted teeth.

  That voice. She knew it. Her body stiffened and eyes narrowed as awareness washed over her.

  When he released her, she quickly turned to face him. Just as quickly, she landed one more heavy fist to his eye in a heated fury.

  “Liam.”

  2

  “What the hell, Felicity?” He asked, gripping his battered jaw, covered in day old scruff. Liam was as clean cut and ironed jeans as they came. If he hadn’t shaved, it was because he had been deep in the innerwebs, pulling long nights or even all-nighters in an attempt to keep the world safe, one computer hack at a time. He spent most of his time behind a wall of screens, hugging a keyboard. It was easier than facing real life – for Liam.

  Still rattled from the encounter and what she thought was impending death, Felicity struggled to respond with anything but truth. A truth she wasn’t willing to share – at least not yet.

  “Wh-what the hell to you, Liam?” She fired back, cringing at her own awkward rebuttal.

  Liam’s brow raised in a furrow of confusion, finding her response just as floundering as she had, “Seriously? What are you doing out here this late? Alone?”

  Straightening her shoulders, she tossed her long blond hair over her shoulder and raised her chin in a faux confidence. “Wh-why were you following me? That’s what I would like to know. Are you stalking me?”

  Her attempt at offense was lacking. He could tell she was reeling, trying to spin the tables on him. “Because it’s after midnight, and you’re sneaking out to venture to the – the wrong side of the tracks. Why?”

  “Wrong side of the tracks?” she questioned with a guffaw. “A bit judgy there, wouldn’t you say?”

  “Why are you answering all of my questions with a question, Felicity?”

  “Why are you asking so many questions, Liam?”

  “Because you have been sneaking out late at night, getting into the office late in the mornings, and you’re acting…weird,” he said.

  “Acting weird? Really? Says the guy who is clearly watching my every move. What did I have for breakfast, Detective Do-right?”

  “A scone. From Wired. You also had your usual – a fluffy coffee that’s more sugar than coffee.” His stance fell wide as his arms crossed his broad chest, the brief wince on his face giving her satisfaction.

  “That’s…very specific.”

  “I’m a details guy, Felicity.” His smug look pissed her off.

  “You’re also creepy. How’d you even find me? Or do you just hide outside my front door?”

  Smug grin still intact, Liam extended his wrist, rolling the face of his smart watch toward her, “Same way I track everyone.”

  “Jesus, O’Reilly! Now I really mean it…creepy.”

  With a roll of his eyes, he was determined to stay on track and get to the bottom of what she was up to, despite her attempts to derail his back-alley interrogation. “I track the whole team. In our line of work, you can never be too careful. You know that.”

  “I didn’t realize you tracked us on personal time too.”

  “When late night notifications come through more often than usual, and the recipient is coming and going in response – red flags go up, especially when it’s out of character,” he said. “You have access to sensitive information and help care for my daughter. Of course, I want to know what you’re up to.”

  “Even if it’s a date? A late night…booty call?”

  Liam looked around and snorted. “You’re not dating anyone, and surely this isn’t a booty call.”

  Oh, how this man infuriated her. Felicity narrowed the space between them as she shot him down with her threatening, narrowed stare. “You couldn’t possibly know that, or does your little watch track my love life too?”

  Taking a step closer himself, he came toe to toe with her, so close their body heat radiated off each other. He looked her in the eye and called her bluff. “First, you whispered booty call. You can barely say it, much less act on it. Also, look around. I think your standards are a bit higher than a guy living in an alley in the worst neighborhood in town.”

  “Well, you don’t know me as well as you think, Liam O’Reilly.”

  “No, I know you better.” At just over six-feet tall, he towered a good foot over her. He dipped his head closer to hers, adding fire to the mood between them.

  Felicity’s chest heaved with heavy breaths, her spine straightening as her eyes became heavy, his close proximity and concern seducing her. “You…you don’t.”

  Liam tucked a single lock of hair behind her ear, clearing it from her face before lowering his voice in a calm and steady tone. “This isn’t like you. It’s late and dangerous. You’re careful, too smart and cautious. Why, Felicity? What brought you out here?”

  Tilting her head, awareness coursed through her when he brought out the famous O’Reilly charm. He wasn’t seducing her; it was Liam for God sake. He was still grilling her. Two can play at that game, she thought.

  Lightly brushing her chest to his, earning a raised brow, she tilted her head as she rested her hand on his already swelling cheek. Swiping beads of what she assumed was pain induced sweat with the pad of her thumb, she said in a soft sultry voice, “Why do you care so much, Liam?”

  Overwhelmed by the intimacy of her intoxicating touch and i
nviting tone, Liam was quick to remind himself where they were and why they were there. With a simple touch, she had him entranced, wanting and needing even though he knew it wasn’t right. It spooked him. This wasn’t why he was here looking for her.

  Feelings such as those, both vulnerable and primal, didn’t belong in their relationship. She was a pain in the ass – an employee of his family business and sometimes caretaker of his daughter. Besides, he was married – or had been. This wasn’t going to happen. Not today – not ever.

  Her question lingered between them. Why did he care? He let those words wash over him a moment too long before he settled with, “I don’t care, Felicity.”

  Though she should be used to the cold demeanor and constant reminder that she wasn’t and never would be anything to him, his words still cut through her like a dull, rusted knife. Stalling briefly, her eyes narrowed before she walked around him in a huff, not saying a word. Her abrupt departure said it all.

  Liam followed her all the way to her car, several blocks, despite the limp in his step and ache in his ribs with every step. Sure, he didn’t care, but he also wasn’t an ass and willing to let her walk alone in a dodgy part of town – alone. Just like he hadn’t let her come here unattended, even if it was under the radar, initially.

  As they approached her car, he said, “I’m several blocks down and this leg you kindly cracked is killing me. Can you…”

  Before he could finish asking for a lift, Felicity slammed her car door shut. She didn’t even look at him before starting her car and pulling away from the curb. She just took off. Nope, he wasn’t getting a ride anywhere.

  Who the hell does he think he is, Felicity asked herself. That man makes me absolutely crazy. One minute he’s concerned and caring; the next he’s a bulldozing. Jerk! Felicity didn’t lose her cool. She had the patience of a saint – most of the time.

  It wasn’t lost on her that Liam was still mourning the loss of his wife though it had been years. Her passing had changed him and not for the better. He lost his smile, he lost his spark. Liam had grown cold and scornful. Understandably so, to an extent, but he still had so much to live for. He just didn’t…live.