by S R Mitchell
“Shit, Brock!” exclaimed David. “You like her and you don’t just like women. I can’t wait to see this chick.”
“Shut up,” Brock cut him off. “Go get Trent and get your asses up here.” Brock told him the address to Allie’s aunt’s house, repeating it twice to make sure David wrote it down correctly.
“Shit, Brock. It’s going to be a while,” David answered. “You do realize how far out you are from the city, right?”
“Yeah,” answered Brock. “I can’t go to my apartment; they may be waiting for me there or watching it,” he huffed, “and I am not leaving her behind and unprotected if someone shows up here. They come after her, they’ll have to come through me first.”
“If they went through all the trouble you say they did to track your ass down and take your ass out, I’d agree your apartment is off limits,” David breathed. “Did you cover your trail? They might follow you to her aunt’s.”
Brock sighed. “I thought of that. Lucky for us the wind was as strong as it was as we traveled down the road in the truck. It effectively helped the snow cover up our tracks. I kept looking back expecting something, but nothing. No one came barreling up behind us.”
“That is odd,” David admitted. “If the target is missed, following through with the mission until it’s completed is the only option. Watch your back. It doesn’t sit right with me.”
“Yeah,” Brock agreed. “Me neither.”
~*~
“Son of a bitch!” yelled Jess as the truck kicked up snow trying to gain traction. Brock must have angels on his side because this was damned ridiculous. When he set out on a mission, he completed it, Jess thought.
He took his pistol out of its holster at his hip, took off the safety and raised it, taking aim at the truck. He fired shot after shot as the truck swerved left and right.
Finally, he took out the small box and hit another little red button. Snow flew up around the truck and wheels squealed as he watched Brock maneuver the truck away from the small explosion.
Fuck!
Uncle Jess smiled devilishly as the truck skidded and swerved out of sight. He had to give the kid credit. Brock had paid good fucking attention during his own training and knew what the hell he was doing.
Jess had figured Brock for more of a jerk-off.
Guess his late brother’s persistence on the boy had finally paid off.
He quickly made his way to the van and climbed in. By the time he made it back to the main road, the tracks left behind from the truck tires were all but gone, but at least he knew which direction they went.
Chapter 9
“Well no use crying over spilt milk,” Aunt Margret said to Allie as she sat down at the small round table in the kitchen. “There's nothing you can do about any of it now. It’ll be okay. We’ll fix everything like this incident never happened.”
Allie shook her head. “No, Aunt Margret. No meddling. He needs to find who did this before they do something more drastic.”
“If that's what you want,” Aunt Margret answered cautiously. “Are you hungry? I can make some breakfast,” Aunt Margret offered, smiling.
“Yes,” Allie smiled back, “since everything started happening when I was cooking,” she blushed. “I am hungry and I bet he is, too.”
“Yes, you mentioned you burned the bacon,” Aunt Margret retorted, “but that surprises me. I know you love bacon. You usually watch that stuff like a hawk about to dive for its prey.”
“Yep, burnt to a crisp.” Allie rubbed her hands over her face, feeling her blush deepen, “and I am not that bad about bacon. It's just one of life’s little pleasures I quite enjoy.”
She wasn't going to tell Aunt Margret about what had happened to result in burnt bacon, but thinking about it made her insides turn. She breathed deeply and closed her eyes a moment trying to let the humming energy building inside of her go.
“Well, that is interesting,” chuckled Margret.
Allie suddenly opened her eyes and let out a breath. “What?”
Aunt Margret didn’t say a word. She simply pointed to a spot above Allie’s head and smiled widely. Aunt Margret fought to control her excitement. Her spell may have pushed them together, but Allie and Brock’s hearts were obviously taking part and there was a true connection.
Allie looked up and spotted the small orbs of light dancing above her and her eyes widened in shock. “Crap! That’s twice today.” She instantly snapped her fingers and they disappeared. Her head whipped to Aunt Margret. “Why is that interesting? And why are they just appearing?”
Aunt Margret chuckled, “Oh, don’t fret about it. He’s a fine-looking man and with all those muscles,” she paused to teasingly let out a breath and fan her face, “I would be creating little orbs, too—everywhere and anywhere, whenever I had the chance.”
Allie didn't know what to say. She just opened and closed her mouth like a fish before finally moving to the fridge to get out the bacon.
Aunt Margret joked, but inside she really hoped, if this worked for her dear Allie, that he wouldn’t be as her husband had been to her and Allie’s dad had been to his wife and not be accepting of the fact that Allie was a witch.
Her husband thought he could handle it, said he was okay with the fact that she was a witch, but in the end, he ran. She’d wanted the family, the love, the home, but he’d taken that away from her.
It was only a matter of time before Allie would need to tell Brock.
Allie blushed, reading the look on her aunt’s face, “I did not sleep with him!”
“I didn't say you did,” Aunt Margret teased.
“I did not,” Allie reiterated as she turned the bacon over in the pan.
“Then, by the look of those orbs, you are one frustrated little witch with a lot of pent up energy.” Aunt Margret laughed at the stricken look on Allie’s face. “It happens to all of us,” she paused, “if you have slept together, just wait and see what happened when you—“ She was cut off by Allie’s exasperated sigh. “I’m just saying.”
“It never happened before,” retorted Allie, “with other men.”
“He’s different,” Aunt Margret stated. “He is not ‘other’ men.”
As if on cue, Brock entered Aunt Margret’s kitchen with a pissy look plastered to his face.
“Good, you found your way,” smiled Aunt Margret.
“I just followed the sound of talking,” answered Brock.
“Everything okay?” asked Allie, feeling foolish once the words were out of her mouth. Of course, everything was not okay.
“I have a couple of my best guys heading this way, but it’ll take them a couple of hours.” He ran his hand through his hair, “I think we're safe, for now.”
Allie shook her head and looked to her aunt and back to Brock. “So what do we do now?”
“Keep our eyes open and wait for my men,” he cautioned. “They’re bringing supplies and a vehicle.”
“Well,” Aunt Margret mumbled, “if there is nothing to do but wait,” she paused a moment, looking to both Allie and Brock, “let’s get you some breakfast and then Allie here can show you around. Make yourself at home, Brock. No reason to fret over what's already done and you can’t do anything about it at this very moment.”
Aunt Margret sat him down at the breakfast nook in her kitchen with a cup of hot tea. Allie then set a loaded plate in front of him and he smiled. The woman could cook, he’d give her that. They ate and drank their tea in silence, the events settling in.
He mulled over the morning in his head. He was glad Allie had noticed the red mark, making him move, or this morning would have ended very differently. Shit! What the hell was going on? He’d be damned if they laid a finger on Allie.
Brock huffed as he stuffed more eggs and bacon into his open mouth.
“Is it good?” Allie asked, breaking the silence. She knew he was reviewing the morning in his mind. It was obvious by the expression on his face.
Brock looked up to see Allie looking at him with
a worried expression. He swallowed his mouth full of food and smiled, “Delicious.”
“Well, if I can do anything else, just let me know,” Aunt Margret interjected. “Allie dear, why don’t you give him a tour of the house and I will clean up the kitchen.”
Brock noticed the similarities and differences between Allie’s home and her aunt’s. They were not that different except for the more traditional taste of her Aunt.
Her aunt even had a greenhouse located off the back of the house via a door in her mud room.
What was with the greenhouses? Maybe that was a thing with old farmhouses.
“And this,” Allie said, opening an old repurposed yellow door and ushering him into a small cozy room, “is her wannabe library.”
Brock laughed. The room was maybe fifteen feet long and twelve feet wide, but her aunt did a good job making it feel bigger. Two walls were lined with old built-in bookshelves that reached the ceiling, complete with an old ladder.
Two overstuffed armchairs were tucked in a corner with a small end table between them. The brown of the walls had a calming effect. The little rustic wall sconces looked old and used, as did the small old wooden fan hanging from the middle of the ceiling.
“It’s nice,” Brock said as he stood behind Allie with his hands in his pockets, watching as she walked around the room in her form-hugging leggings. He’d be damned if he ever let her wear those in public. Mine! he thought.
Allie turned and her breath caught in her throat as she met his slivery-blue, smoky gaze. She was beginning to recognize that look and she realized she liked being the one to cause it. She stood still as he gingerly made his way to her in the middle of the room and pulled her into his arms. The way the material of his shirt clung to him and moved over the muscles of his arms made Allie want to touch him.
“Have I told you, Allie, how beautiful you are?” Brock’s gravelly tone gave away his lustful feelings.
“You’ve mentioned it a time or two,” Allie replied, leaning into him. He smelled earthy and she loved it. She breathed in his scent. She let her nose trail his neck and placed a kiss against his warm skin.
Brock lowered his hands, grabbing her quickly under her bottom and wrapping her legs around his waist before she could protest.
Allie squeaked at the sudden movement but complied and wrapped her legs around him, feeling her soft core meet his hard body.
Lord, this man made Allie feel as if her blood was on fire. She pushed her lips hard against his, needing, demanding more as her back met the wall. She ran her hands through his hair, keeping him to her as they explored each other.
Clothing was quickly becoming a barrier between them and Brock wanted to rip hers from her body. He used the wall as leverage as his hand snaked under her bottom, finding her warmth. He was rewarded with a moan as she broke their kiss and leaned her head back against the wall.
It was not the place for sex, but he needed to touch her. Brock couldn’t explain it, but he needed to taste her. He needed to kiss every inch of her and hear his name on her lips as she came. He was going to show her how beautiful he thought she was.
Allie fervently hoped her aunt didn’t walk in anytime soon and the damned orbs didn’t appear. Allie knew what he wanted, but they had to slow down…
Dear Lord, what had come over them?
~*~
Allie couldn’t help but roam her aunt’s house with a permanent blush staining her cheeks and wanting to slap the smile off Brock’s smug face.
The rest of the day was spent helping her aunt with morning chores as needed, mulling over the events that had occurred in Allie’s home, and waiting for Brock’s men to arrive.
Allie and Brock had the opportunity to learn some new things about each other.
Finally, after they finished dinner, his phone rang. He opened his cell and placed it to his ear as he walked off into the hallway for some privacy.
“Hey, boss,” muttered David.
“Fuck, David!” Brock growled into the
phone, “You guys should be here by now. What the hell is going on? And stop calling me boss. We’ve been friends forever.”
“Okay. Boss. We had a few problems,” David muttered. “Apparently the new guy you hired is a serious douche bag and would not give us clearance even after Trent showed him his badge and offered to manually shove it down the dude’s throat.” He paused, taking a breath, “He said we weren’t on the fucking list!”
Brock could hear Trent’s colorful input from beside David. “I didn’t hire any new personnel for that division of the company. It should have been Rodney or Tabitha on duty." David set the phone on the console and turned on the speaker.
“Yeah, that’s a big fucking fat negative, boss,” added Trent from beside David in the passenger seat. “Well, the little puny ass dude had a different story. He said you hired him directly and that our names were not on the list for clearance and that there was no way in hell we were getting through. He called the damned dogs on us!”
“Okay, calm down,” Brock said, gritting his teeth, “they would have recognized you.”
“Yeah, they did, but said if we weren’t on the list, there was nothing they could do and sided with the puny ass dude,” Trent retorted.
“I know there is no way you hired that guy,” David interjected. “What the hell is going on? That little prick has to be a mole. Only explanation, boss; but who put him there?”
“I’m trying to figure that out,” muttered Brock through his teeth. Anger was seething inside him. He took a deep breath to try to calm himself down. “This is bigger than I originally thought.”
“Yeah,” mumbled Trent, “someone is going through a lot of trouble to take your ass out. When I tried to call Shelly to see if she could help us out, someone else answered. Said she was out sick and would be gone till an unknown time. If they hurt her, I will kill them myself. She’d do anything to help us guys out.”
“Especially you,” David said, amused.
“She’s a good girl, man. Shut up,” retorted Trent.
“You like her,” teased David, “it’s okay. She’s cool.”
“Shut up, David,” Trent mumbled.
“Focus, guys. So, where the hell are you two and did you get some weapons?” Brock fumed.
“We went to the safe house and grabbed a few things,” answered David. “We’ll be there with you shortly.”
Not thirty minutes later, Aunt Margret, Allie, and Brock greeted two large, brawny men. They carried in two oversized black bags like they weighed nothing.
They were big, but Brock seemed to still be bigger, taller.
The men nodded their heads in greeting at the women. “Hi,” smiled David devilishly, “I’m David, and this is Trent.”
“Nice to meet both of you,” said Allie. “I am Allie, and this is my Aunt Margret.”
“Yeah, I figured you were Allie,” smiled David roguishly.
“May we borrow your office again, Aunt Margret?” smiled Brock with the two men standing behind him.
They were very imposing as they stood with their hands behind their backs behind Brock, on either side of him.
“Um,” stuttered Aunt Margret, “sure.”
“Grab the bag with the clothes you brought,” muttered Brock, and David immediately grabbed one of the bags. Trent grabbed the other.
A moment later, the men disappeared behind the door. So much for peeking inside the bags, Allie thought. She knew it was none of her business, but she was curious as to the contents. She knew it was probably supplies considering the business they were in.
Allie wasn’t sure if it made her more nervous, or relieved, to know that now they had protection. It did mean one thing; this was real, and it was happening. There were people after him and now they were after her. Allie looked to her aunt and sighed. She prayed their presence here at her aunt’s home didn’t put her Aunt Margret in danger.
“I see that look,” Aunt Margret ventured and rubbed a hand over Allie’s shoulder.
“Don’t do that.”
“But what if they come here?” Allie turned fully to her aunt “I was deep down hoping that what happened this morning was a dream or something. That it really hadn’t happened.”
“But obviously, it did and now Brock has help here,” Aunt Margret reassured. “If you’re worried you’ve put me in danger, don’t.”
“But,” Allie whispered wiping a tear away.
“Do not do that. You are stronger than this and we have magic on our side,” Aunt Margret retorted. “There are a few things we can do.”
“We’re good,” Allie said, eyeing her Aunt.
Aunt Margret swatted Allie on the arm. “Don’t give me that look. That is not what I meant.” Aunt Margret sighed. “We’re good, you’re good, and you have inner strength that you can pull on. If they get hurt, you can heal them and you know you have a certain amount of pull on the weather. Use it like you did when you two were trying to make it here. You used the wind to cover your tracks.”
Allie shook her head. “You have the book.”
“And we will use it if we need it,” Aunt Margret smiled, “but remember he also needs to figure out who did this and protect himself, his business, and his employees. We can only interfere so much without hindering him and his men.”
Allie looked to the door. “You’re right.”
“Allie,” Aunt Margret put her hand on Allie’s arm, “if he is in the business you say, then he is more than capable of handling this, and from the look of those men, they are perfectly capable as well.”
They started to head to the kitchen, passing some of her aunt’s plants she had tucked into the corner of the entryway. “What happened to those?”
Aunt Margret chuckled. “Kitty had a field day, that dang fat cat. Once she got into them and settled, I just left her. I figured she worked so hard to nestle her oversized self in there, it was cruel to take her out. I meant to fix them this morning.”
Allie laughed and touched the half-wilted plants. The plants immediately perked up, the leaves lifted to their rightful place and they gained some height.
