Gray Wolf Security: Back Home

by Glenna Sinclair

  “You must think we’re really fucking stupid.” He shook his head as he started the car. “My guys took care of them. They won’t be coming to your rescue.”

  He put the car in gear and we pulled out in an angry scream of tires on pavement. I twisted in the seat again, searching the street as we rushed away from the club. I didn’t see the dark SUV that had been parked down on the corner every day I’d been at the club. I didn’t see the familiar reflection of my backup in a mirror in any of the cars parked on the street. I didn’t see the support I’d taken for granted all this time.

  “I’m telling you,” Xavier said, his tone filled with finality, “you’re on your own now.”

  If that was true, I was screwed.

  I tried the doors, but they were locked. It crossed my mind to put pressure on his throat, make him pass out. But we were going sixty-five down the interstate. Did I really want to be the reason a car full of kids was taken out? I had no choice but to sit back and wait to see where he was taking me.

  I didn’t have to wait long.

  We pulled off the highway after just a few minutes and followed a trail of side roads until he pulled up to a large warehouse set not far from an old railroad bed. It was clearly abandoned. The whole area looked deserted. An optimal place to murder someone. No one around to witness it or hear the screams.

  “I’m going to get out and I’m going to open your door. Don’t try to run.”

  “And if I do?”

  “You’ll force my hand.” He met my eyes in the rearview mirror. “Don’t do that.”

  It was a warning. But there something more there, too. I thought there might be regret in his voice. If there was, maybe I could play on that. Maybe I had a chance.

  “What are you going to do to me?” I asked as he reached into the car and pulled me out. “Are you going to kill me like you did those other girls?”

  “What other girls?”

  I glanced over my shoulder at him. Was he playing me?

  He held tight to my arm—ironically in the same place Rahul had bruised just a little less than a week ago—as he unlocked the huge padlock on the door with one hand. It took some maneuvering, but he got it undone and pulled the heavy sliding door open. We walked inside and I sneezed immediately. The place had clearly not been used in years. It was mostly empty, just a massive room filled with dust and dirt, but there were a few hulking shapes covered by heavy tarps along the backside of the room.

  “What is this place?”

  He pushed me into the room, turning to close and lock the door again. I watched, making note of everything he did. I had to remember everything, had to be sure I could find a way to get out if the chance presented itself. When he was done, he walked along the perimeter of the building as though checking its integrity. I thought what he was really doing was getting a hold on his thoughts.

  There were windows high on the walls, but there was no way I could reach them. The walls were corrugated steel, slick and impossible to climb. There was no second floor, no ladders to scale. There was no entrance or exit except for those sliding doors we’d just walked through.

  I was so screwed.

  “Are you a cop?”

  I didn’t answer him because I knew there was no point. He knew I was something and that was enough for him to drag me here, enough for him to promise Rahul he’d get rid of me. The only question was, how did he plan to get rid of me?

  “How could I have not seen it? How could I have not known?”

  “That’s a good question.”

  He spun on his heel and came toward me, anger clouding those beautiful eyes. He grabbed my shoulders and roughly pushed me backward, stopping only when I nearly tripped over my own feet.

  “Who do you work for?” he growled at me.

  I stared up at him, my lips pressed together. The last thing I was going to do was give him information he could use against me or Gray Wolf. I might not have had formal training as a Gray Wolf operative, but I was trained in the Army. And that meant only giving my name, rank, and serial number.

  But I wasn’t going to give him even that little bit.

  “Tell me who the fuck you work for!”

  I continued to stare up at him, my lips still pressed tight. He squeezed my shoulders before pushing me away, forcing me down on my ass. It knocked the wind out of my lungs. I sat there for a minute, waiting for the air to come back, watching him pace. He was the angriest I had ever seen him. I should have been frightened—and I was, deeply frightened—but the fact that he hadn’t made a move to hurt me yet was encouraging.

  But I might be jumping to conclusions too soon.

  He spun on me again, kicking my thigh, though without extreme force.

  “Get up!”

  “What are you going to do? You going to kill me?”

  His eyes widened slightly. “You realize that’s exactly what Rahul would have done if I’d allowed him to take you.”

  “I know.”

  “He would have done horrible things to you.” He shuddered just at the thought. “I took a huge chance bringing you here.”

  “Am I supposed to be grateful?”

  He reached down and grabbed my arm again, yanking me to my feet. “What did I tell you about that mouth?”

  I moved into him, pressed my hand to his chest. “What did I tell you about it?”

  He slapped me, hard enough to rock my head back on the top of my spine. I’d been slapped before, but not in a very long time. It pissed me off. I pushed against him, slapped at his chest before grabbing a handful of the expensive material and raising my knee. He saw it coming and twisted his hips to get out of the way, taking the blow on his upper thigh. Then he slapped me again, snatching at my wrists, pulling them hard against my back so that I was trapped against his chest.

  I looked up at him and he stared down at me, both of us breathing too hard to speak for a moment.

  “Proud of yourself?” I asked when I could speak. “Impressed that you can control a woman half your size?”

  “I’ve never fooled myself into thinking I could control you, Audra.”

  “Then why did you bring me here?”

  He jerked my arms, pulling me closer against him. My shoulders ached and my heart pounded, but not for the same reasons. He moved my wrists closer together, holding them in one large, warm hand. He buried the fingers of his other hand in my hair, yanking my head to one side. He could have broken my neck right then. He could have twisted my head in just the right direction and snapped my neck in half. He could have broken my arms and dislocated my shoulders. He could have injured half a dozen different parts of my body with just the right movement.

  Instead, he kissed me.

  It was a rough, possessive kiss. Our teeth knocked against each other and he forced my mouth open with a determined thrust of his tongue. When I opened to him, he took it all, took everything he could in that one movement. He touched me everywhere all at once, taking what he wanted rather than asking for it. In that moment, I was his whether I wanted it or not.

  It occurred to me to fight him. And I did try. I struggled to turn my head to one side with his vice-like grip in my hair, and tried to break the kiss. But he wouldn’t allow it. He held me too tight. Or maybe it was my body betraying me. Either way, I couldn’t move away.

  His kiss softened slightly when he sensed my submission. He released my hair from his hold, moving his hand down along my hip, tugging at the short skirt of the shift dress I was wearing. Underneath was just a pair of cotton panties that barely covered anything. I was getting used to being half naked all the time. A short dress with a pair of thin panties was nothing compared to the G-string I wore on stage every night.

  I didn’t regret wearing the dress, though. His hand was warm and possessive on my ass, his fingers determined as he tugged at the material. Again, it crossed my mind to feel violated, to fight his touch. But how long had I wanted his hand right where it was? If I was going to die, this was a hell of a way to go out!r />
  He pushed me back again, pinning me against one of the hulking shapes under the tarp, dust rattling down over us as our momentum was absorbed by the dirty canvas. He let go of my wrists and I immediately slipped my arms around his neck, using them as leverage to wrap my legs around his waist. He was tearing at my clothes now, ripping at my panties, his fingers a bruising pressure against my thighs, my hips. And his kiss was just as hot, just as possessive, just as demanding as it had ever been, even as his lips moved down over my chin and his teeth tore at the fragile skin of my throat. I thought for sure he was going to draw blood, but as raw as it felt, he was more conscious of the delicacy of my body than he allowed me to believe.

  His mouth was against my shoulder, his hot breath burning through the thin fabric of my dress, when he managed to get my panties away from my body. His hand immediately moved between my legs, his fingers sliding inside of me, the way eased by the moisture that seemed to be a constant reality from the first moment I set eyes on him. I let out a gasp at the sudden burst of pleasure his fingers gave me. I moved my hips, pressing my body hard against the heel of his hand. He groaned against my shoulder, his mouth moving back to my throat as he did incredible things to the core of my body.

  I was on the edge so much quicker than I expected, quicker than I’d ever been before. It’d been a long time, but even that didn’t explain the rush that burned through me at his touch. I rocked my hips, my hands moving down the front of his shirt, scraping against the soft linen, as I searched for the belt that held what I really wanted hidden from me. He pulled back slightly when he felt my fingers brush against his abs, his eyes dark with desire as he watched me struggle with that damn belt.

  It was thick leather, an expensive belt if I’d ever seen one. The silver buckle worked like every other belt ever made, but my fingers couldn’t quite figure out how to release its hold on the leather. He had to remove his fingers to help, a double-edged sword that cut through me with something close to agony. I wanted his touch—needed his touch—but I needed more than his long, beautiful fingers. I laughed with something like glee when his belt released and I was able to tug his slacks open, my eager hands sliding inside his boxer briefs to hold his erection in my hand.

  He backed up immediately, pulling my grip free of his manhood. I moaned in protest, but he was already pulling himself free, already coming back to me, his lips seeking mine as the back of his hand brushed my sensitive lips as he guided himself to me. There was a tinge of discomfort as he thrust inside of me, his need too overwhelming to be gentle. But my body quickly adjusted to him, my thighs falling open, my hips relaxing as best as they could. His hands slipped around the small of my back and he pulled me toward him, my body nearly sliding off of the ledge of whatever it was we were braced against. And then he was thrusting quickly, almost roughly, his lips moving to the top of my head, his heavy breaths bursting through the separate strands of my hair, burning my scalp with heat of his need.

  It was intense, his movements, his need. But mine was right there alongside him, keeping up as best as it could. My fingernails dug into his flesh as I held onto his ass, fighting to meet him thrust for thrust. My head was spinning with the pleasure washing through me in wave after wave, my thoughts nothing more than a vague memory, my fear completely evaporated as I held onto this, to the pleasure, to the intimacy we’d been inevitably moving toward since the moment we set eyes on each other. I couldn’t focus on anything but how good this was, how perfect. How could something so perfect be anything but right?

  My orgasm caught me by surprise, bursting through my body from the tips of my toes to the place on the top of my head where he rested his chin. I cried out, something I might have found ironic if I’d been capable of thought, remembering the fact that this place he’d brought me was the perfect place to bring someone whose screams you didn’t want overheard. My body went slightly limp against his. He held me tighter, kept me close to him as he continued to move, his thrusts growing erratic as his own orgasm began to overwhelm him. I knew the moment it hit him, knew his pleasure as it coursed through him to me. We clung to each other until our mutual pleasure began to wane.

  “Fuck me,” he whispered against my forehead, the words strong but missing the intensity they might have had under other circumstances. “You’re going to be the end of it all for me.”

  “Xavier…”

  He nudged at my jaw, moving it up as he kissed my throat. Then he slowly extracted himself from me, adjusting his clothes as he did. I should have gotten on my feet, should have made a run for it. But running was the last thing on my mind.

  Clearly it wasn’t the last thing on his mind.

  He snapped the cuffs on my wrist before I even realized he had them, snapping the other end on a metal ring that was attached to the machine against which we were balanced. The tarp fell as he exposed the ring, revealing a hulking piece of farm equipment, some sort of blade or tiller or something. And I was now tightly secured to it.

  “I have no choice,” he said as he backed away. “I’ll be back.”

  “No! Xavier!”

  I pulled at the handcuffs, but there was no slack. I was stuck.

  He didn’t look back as he left.

  Chapter 14

  Joss

  I was gathering my things, preparing to leave the office for the day. McKelty had cheerleading practice after school, but Aidan was due to be home at the regular time and the nanny had called in sick. There was a stomach bug going around. With my luck, Aidan would get it in the middle of the night sometime soon.

  I walked down the hall, my bag over my shoulder, and stopped in to peek on the camera footage Tyler was reviewing.

  “Anything interesting?”

  He shrugged. “This Mercedes is a fountain of information, but she can’t dance worth a nickel.”

  I watched the television for a second, biting back a laugh. “I don’t suppose the customers are there for the dancing.”

  “Nope.”

  “Is there anything else from last night’s footage we should know about?”

  Tyler picked up his remote and pushed a few buttons. “I was trying to figure this out.” He fast-forwarded to a moment on the recording that showed two male faces staring down briefly at the camera. It was just a split second of footage, barely long enough to leave an impression. But a shock of concern burst through me as I watched.

  “When did this happen?”

  “A couple of hours after the operative took the earrings off. About three in the morning, I believe.”

  “She wasn’t wearing them?”

  “No. But the camera is activated by movement. You’d be surprised by how much footage of the inside of the box we have. It’s something we’re going to have to work on.”

  I was only half listening. I took the remote from him and played the second again, staring at the male faces that were staring down at the box. And the device one was holding in his hands. They were standing too close to the camera to get a clear image, but I didn’t need a clear image. I knew what I was looking at.

  “She’s been compromised.”

  I rushed out of the tech room and back down toward my office, calling to my assistant. “Jules! Call Ash and Emily Warren!”

  “Joss, there’s a—”

  “And call my husband. Tell him he needs to pick Aidan up from school.”

  “Joss—”

  I stormed into my office, my mind spinning with everything that had to be done. If anything happened to Audra under my watch, I’d never forgive myself.

  “Mrs. Matthews?”

  I was caught off guard by the voice. Standing in front of me was a silver haired man, a very distinguished-looking man with kind eyes. He seemed slightly amused by my frazzled state, his eyes taking in the bag over my shoulder and the slight rumple to my white blouse.

  “Who are you?”

  “Special Agent Mike Spencer.”

  “Special Agent?” I moved around him and dropped my bag in the center of my de
sk. “Special Agent of what?”

  “FBI.”

  He’d taken out his badge, but I had my back to him so I didn’t see it immediately. I took it from him when I did see it and studied the identification card. He’d had darker hair when the picture was taken; otherwise he looked pretty much the same.

  “What can I do for you, Agent Spencer?”

  “Mike’s fine. Can I call you Joss?”

  I shrugged. He smiled, patient to a fault, apparently. He gestured to a chair and I nodded, giving him permission to sit as I dropped into my own chair. I crossed my arms over my chest, my thoughts still wrapped around Audra and the image I’d seen transmitted from her camera.

  “I don’t mean to rush you, but I’ve got an urgent matter I need to deal with.”

  “Of course. I wonder, however, if it has something to do with Rahul Rush?”

  Now he had my full attention. I sat up a little straighter and studied him closely. He was wearing a suit that was meant to look cheap and ill fitting, but was actually quite expensive. I recognized the lines of a well-tailored suit, knew the fabric because several suits of the same label hung in my husband’s closet. This was a man who was very aware of his image, but refused to give up the luxury of money that was likely inherited. If there was one thing I knew about government work, it didn’t make a man rich.

  “Would you elaborate?”

  He tilted his head to one side. “You and a team of operatives from this office conducted a raid on the docks last night. I believe you were assisted by both the LAPD and the SMPD, correct?”

  “We had a tip.”

  “Yes, I suspected as much. I was wondering if you’d be so kind as to tell me where that tip came from.”

  “Why? What’s your involvement in this?”

  That smile he seemed to think was so charming came back. His eyes moved over my face for a long moment, moving slowly, like a caress. “You know I can’t tell you that,” he said almost kindly.

  “I can’t give you information on an active case, either.”

  “Yes, well, I can get a court order to compel you to tell me.”