Gray Wolf Security: Back Home

by Glenna Sinclair

  I rushed down the stairs, the sound of another door opening following me. Malik and Alison were in the room where I’d first entered the house, staring at the dead man on the couch. An alarm blared all around us as I joined them, lights flooding the yard, revealing the three or four guards we’d missed on our trip across the yard. As I watched, two of them fell and another dropped his gun and held up his hands. A second later, he fell, too.

  “Go!” I cried to Malik as approaching footsteps forced me to spin on my heels. Two men were coming down the stairs, both half naked and holding pistols. I fired, catching one in the knee. He fell, rolling into the other and taking him down, too.

  I followed Malik and Alison out the door, Jamey coming up behind me and firing at the men on the stairs as one raised his pistol in our direction. Andrew was in the middle of the yard, waving to us to run. We did, running like we were in a race. Andrew reached the break in the wall, pausing to pull Alison and Malik through. I followed, pausing briefly to make sure Jamey made it through. We began to run again, Malik and Andrew dragging Alison between them, when men dressed in combat gear suddenly appeared around the corner of the house. Andrew let go of Alison and placed himself between the new arrivals and Malik, a move that made Jamey cry out to him.

  For a tense moment, we were clearly outnumbered. Andrew held up his hands after carefully placing his rifle on the ground, showing these men he was done fighting. But Jamey still had his rifle trained on these newcomers. Suddenly overcome with exhaustion, I fell to my knees beside Alison and pulled her into my arms.

  “Have you recovered the target?”

  At first, I didn’t understand what the voice was asking. But when he asked again, I realized he was speaking in English and that he was talking about Alison. Immense relief rushed through my whole body.

  “We have,” I called shakily.

  The line of men facing us suddenly parted and a slight woman wearing a sharp business suit under a flak jacket approached. She knelt in front of me, her eyes dark with fury at the sight of Alison, but softening when she focused on me.

  “Good work, operative,” she said with the softest of smiles. “You’ve done well.”

  I nodded at Joss, tears flooding my eyes. “Thank you, ma’am.”

  She studied me a moment longer, something like admiration in her eyes. Then she turned and began barking orders to the men behind her. In what seemed like an instant, we were in an SUV headed to a private airstrip where another private plane was waiting for us.

  “The advantages of private security,” I said with a small smile as Jamey stared up at the larger plane.

  He shook his head, but he couldn’t help but smile back.

  Chapter 23

  Malik

  I sat in a soft upholstered chair, this hotel much better than the last two we’d been guests of. Shaw was asleep in the king sized bed, her bruised body so colorful that it hurt to look at it. She’d finally been checked out in a hospital and given a clean bill of health despite the number of injuries she’d sustained in the past few days. She had a collection of pills to take now, an antibiotic for the gunshot wound, painkillers, and anti-inflammatories. She didn’t like taking them, but with a little encouragement she did.

  Joss Matthews sat with us each, one at a time, and debriefed us on what had happened. We were lucky that it was only her and not the police or the FBI. I’d heard she had an FBI agent with her, but he never introduced himself to me. When it was my turn, it was just her and me. It was slightly nerve-wracking and awkward, but not as bad as it could have been, I supposed. She didn’t react when I told her how I’d snuck into the house despite Shaw’s orders to stay behind, and didn’t react when I described how I’d killed Case Michaels. Her face was pretty much neutral the entire interview until the very end.

  When we were done, she touched my hand and looked me straight in the eyes.

  “Thank you for what you did for Shaw.”

  That was all she said, but I could still feel the weight of it. It was probably the most sincere and meaningful thing anyone had ever said to me.

  And the thing was, saving Shaw wasn’t something I’d had to think about. I did it on instinct, never stopping to consider what the consequences might be or to examine my motives.

  And I’d do it again.

  She moaned in her sleep, forcing me to sit a little straighter in my chair. I wanted to protect her from everything and anything, even her own nightmares.

  The sight of that man choking the life out of her…it was something I would never forget.

  I left the van less than five minutes after Shaw, Jamey, and Andrew headed out. The gun was hidden in my waistband, so obvious that I’d been convinced one of them would spot it and call me out on it before we arrived at our destination. But, I supposed, they were all so fixated on the job at hand that they hadn’t noticed.

  I could see the path through the yard they had taken by the bodies lying on the ground. I moved cautiously, petrified that I might run into someone too late to take aim with the gun. I wasn’t sure I could survive a hand-to-hand situation, having never learned how to properly fight dangerous enemies. But everyone must have either been down or asleep because I didn’t see a conscious person until I walked into that room on the second floor of the house.

  The door had been hanging open and I could hear the sounds of struggle, heard the plaster shatter when he shoved her head into it. And then I saw him choking the light out of her eyes and, again, I moved on instinct. I didn’t even realize I’d pulled the trigger until I saw him fall.

  Instinct. I couldn’t let him take her away from me. Not now.

  Instinct was all good and well, but now that a few days had passed, the memory of that moment had begun to haunt me. I couldn’t stop seeing that red flower bloom in the center of his forehead, couldn’t stop seeing the life go out of his eyes.

  I’d fired guns before, but always in a controlled setting. At a firing range. I’d never fired a gun at a human being.

  And I’d never taken a life.

  He was a bad man. He would have killed Shaw—and likely Alison—if I hadn’t done what I’d done. There was no pity in my heart for that man. But…

  He was a human being. How was I supposed to live with the reality that a life was no longer walking this Earth because of me?

  I wasn’t sure I could.

  Shaw moaned again. I went to her, crawling into the bed beside her. She immediately turned into me, only partially conscious, but aware enough to know I was there. I slid my hands over her naked body, still learning how every inch of her felt in my hands. The thought that I might not have had this chance, that I might never have touched her again, left me breathless.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered softly against her temple.

  She pushed my head back, her eyes seeking mine. I thought for a moment I saw fear there, but then there was only need as she moved close to offer her lips. The kiss began as something almost friendly. But it quickly turned passionate, our mouths moving roughly against one another, my lips swelling from the pressure of hers against them.

  I ran my hand down her back and over her thigh, drawing her leg up over my hip. She opened to me, both in the parting of her lips and the widening of her legs. It killed me a little how willing she was in my arms. A part of me couldn’t understand why a woman like her would want a man like me.

  Her hands sought me, her fist wrapping around my shaft as she drew me closer to her. She was never one to hide what she wanted and she was making it very clear right now exactly what she wanted from me. I was more than willing to offer it, sliding inside of her like a blind man seeing, a deaf man hearing his child’s voice. It was a spiritual experience, a pleasure that should not have been possible in a humble man like myself. It was more than I deserved, more than I would ever find anywhere else.

  She moved against me, meeting my thrusts movement for movement despite the wounds that still pained her. I tried to be gentle, tried to move her as little as possible, b
ut she was a determined woman in this as she was in everything else. And then my passion got away with me, driving me to heights that were less than gentle, drawing from my lips, my throat, my chest, screams that never should have been voiced. She cried out, too, her body quivering against mine. I held her tight, reluctant to let go. I never wanted to let go of her, of this moment.

  But I couldn’t deny reality.

  I’d been denied by women I thought were the sun and the moon because they didn’t like my father’s name, his position in world politics, because they thought they knew things about Saudi Arabia that weren’t always true. It was a burden I believed I would have to carry the rest of my life, this reality that a suitable partner would have to be well educated in world politics and tolerant. Incredibly tolerant.

  But I had never denied a woman because I felt inadequate to her. I had never denied a woman because her choice of profession scared the crap out of me.

  I’d done a lot of soul searching over the past few days and kept coming to the same conclusion. Shaw’s lifestyle was one I’d never considered for myself. I’d always envisioned myself living a quiet life, running a small hotel somewhere, getting married and raising a couple of kids. I’d never seen myself shooting sex traffickers or sending the love of my life off to put herself in front of some target every single day.

  I wasn’t sure I could do this.

  Shaw fell back to sleep after a few minutes. I held her in my arms and watched her sleep, memorizing the lines of her face. When she was clearly sound asleep, I carefully slipped out from under her, moving silently around the room as I packed my bag. I considered leaving her a note, but decided it was likely a bad idea.

  How do you say goodbye on a piece of paper?

  Chapter 24

  Joss

  I spent four days in Mexico and San Diego, tying up loose ends on the Michaels case. Alison would be in the hospital for another week, but she had a sister who happily came out to be with her. The news that Case Michaels was dead caused quite a few family members to suddenly come out of the woodwork and become supportive. It made me wonder if it was fear of Michaels or greed that had caused the change in attitude.

  But it wasn’t my problem to figure out. Alison Michaels was no longer in danger. That was all that mattered.

  I walked through the front door of my house, thoughts of a long, hot shower the only thing on my mind. The girls were in school and Carrington was at the office for another few hours. They didn’t know I was home. I thought I’d surprise them.

  I undressed, a heavy sigh slipping from between my lips as I stepped under the hot pulse of water coming from the showerhead. Hotels were okay, but the showers never seemed to be quite the same. There was just something comforting about the familiar.

  I stayed in the shower for a long time, not even bothering to wash myself until my fingers were beginning to prune. When I finally stepped out, the mirrors were all heavily fogged. I wiped the one over the sink clean and brushed my teeth, smiling oddly at myself when I was done. It was then that I realized I wasn’t alone.

  “I was beginning to think you weren’t coming home.”

  A harsh retort came immediately to my lips, but I bit it back. Instead, I turned and leaned back against the counter, regarding my husband. His face was a little thinner than it’d been last year about this time, dark circles recently coming to rest under his eyes. But he was still as handsome as he’d ever been, still the man who’d pulled me out of my grief and reminded me there was still a chance of happiness for me in this cruel world.

  “I missed you, too,” I said softly.

  He came to me, his hands hesitant as he raised them to touch my face. But then he touched me and a dam broke deep inside of me. There had been too much tension, too much hurt, these last few months. Tears spilled from the corners of my eyes as I wrapped my hands in the front of his shirt and pressed my body up against his.

  Again, he hesitated. But his hands came around me, drawing me close. He held me as my tears became sobs, all the pain and pressure I’d been under coming out in a flood. The hesitation disappeared the longer he held me, his hands kind and gentle as he eventually lifted me and carried me into the bedroom, sitting on the loveseat with me on his lap. There had been a time when this was my favorite place to be, when I could count on this at the end of every day. It was nice to know it was still an option.

  I kissed his throat, his jaw, my lips moving slowly up to his ear.

  “I love you,” I whispered softly.

  He groaned. “Why? After everything I’ve done to you, done to us…why would you say that?”

  “Because it’s the truth.”

  He shook his head, but I pressed my hand to his jaw, forced him to look at me.

  “I do love you. And I want to make things right between us again. I can’t…all this tension, everything that’s been going on…I can’t do it anymore.”

  “I don’t want to, either.”

  He kissed me, his lips lingering against mine. I moved closer to him, pulling his hand up against my thigh. I wanted him to touch me, wanted that hand to slip under the towel that was the only thing hiding my nakedness from him. He began to obey my desire, his fingertips slipping just under the edge of the towel, but then he pulled back.

  “Is it over? Are you done working that Mahoney case?”

  My heart sank. I could have lied and told him it was all over, but he would know I was lying when I finally got around to telling him what James Conway had nearly done. But I also knew that once I began talking, he wasn’t going to want to touch me tonight. Maybe not ever.

  He’d brought Mahoney into our lives, but somehow it had become my fault.

  I climbed off his lap and stepped into the closet, snatching clothes off the shelves.

  “What are you doing?”

  “We need to talk and we can’t do it while I’m naked.”

  That familiar tightness that had become a permanent fixture in his expression returned. “Then you’re not done.”

  “None of us are.”

  I pulled on a pair of yoga pants and a long t-shirt that used to be his, crossing my arms over my chest as I walked back into the bedroom. He was standing now, his hands buried in the front pockets of his slacks as he regarded me cautiously.

  “What does that mean, Joss?”

  “Mahoney is trying to have you killed.”

  He paled slightly, rearing back like I’d tried to attack him with a weapon. He tilted his head, his eyes narrowed as he studied my face. “What the hell does that mean?”

  “Do you remember James Conway?”

  He jerked his head back. “I told you he was the one who came to talk to me, the one who made the threats.”

  “The one who threatened to tell the girls about your affair if you didn’t go to Wyoming to run Mahoney’s operations there.”

  His eyes narrowed even more. “You know that. Just like you know Conway was arrested.”

  “He was. He was being held at Folsom here in California.”

  “Why? He was arrested in Wyoming.”

  I shrugged. “Ask the federal government. I don’t think even they know why they do certain things.”

  “But what does that have to do with us?”

  This was the part I wasn’t looking forward to telling him. I felt confrontational, standing there in the middle of our bedroom, facing him like this. I brushed past him, returned to the loveseat, needing to change this somehow. Needing to soften the edges.

  “A paperwork snafu allowed him to be released a few weeks ago.” I didn’t think I needed to tell him that the subject of an investigation Gray Wolf was running had arranged the paperwork snafu on orders from Jack Mahoney. The less culpability he saw in me, the better. “He came straight here with the intention of killing you.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “I was part of the team that arrested him.”

  He came toward me, the speed of his movement frightening me a little. He stopped short, howev
er, before he came close to touching me, but close enough to point a finger straight at the center of my forehead.

  “You arrested a man who’d come to this house to kill me? And you didn’t tell me?”

  I lowered my eyes, the movement an answer enough.

  “Were the girls here at the time?”

  “Yes.”

  He shook, so much anger rushing through him that he couldn’t control it. He raised a hand like he was going to hit me, but he spun away, pacing the length of the room for a long few minutes. His steps were so fast and so furious that it was almost a miracle that he didn’t set fire to something.

  “My daughters were in this house while a killer was outside and you never bothered to tell me?”

  “What good would it have done? It was over before it even began.”

  “But you knew we were in danger and did nothing to get us out of here.”

  “You were never in danger. The FBI had agents all over the place.”

  “Without my knowledge.”

  “I had it under control.”

  He shook his head. “No, Joss. You hid it from me. After everything we went through with the Bazarovs, after the promises we made to each other, you allowed that man to come to this house without warning me? You placed our children in danger? And you never told me about it! I’m your husband.”

  Frustrated, I jumped to my feet. “That’s not even the point, Carrington!”

  “Then what is? If you lying to me and putting our children in danger isn’t the point, what is?”

  “Mahoney wants you dead. We need to figure out why.”

  “Obviously because I’m set to testify against him.”

  I shook my head, my thoughts going briefly to Mike Spencer. “The FBI believes you know something that he’s afraid of. It can’t just be your testimony because there’s enough evidence from other sources to send him away for several lifetimes. It has to be something else.”