by Bobbi Romans
Damien motioned for her and Beth to remain where they were while he, Moss and Trick met with the large burly man who exited the near ancient vehicle.
“Hey, you getting tired of being treated like the little helpless woman?” Beth asked, clearly growing impatient to find out what was going on.
“Yeah. They are rather bad about the whole female thing. Like having a vagina knocks us down the self defense steps a rung or two.”
“Well, they can kiss my ass — I’m going over.” Beth opened the handle and Grace joined her. She wasn’t keen on taking orders, no matter how well intended, either.
As they approached the guys, the big bus driver man shot her a funny expression before turning his attention back to Damien and Moss.
“It’s how we roll. Don’t like, don’t come. Everyone else has been introduced to the group this way. I understand your hesitations; however, it’s this way or no way.”
“What’s going on? What way or no way?” Beth asked, going to stand next to her man.
“We either agree to ride with him blindfolded or we go back home.”
“Oh hell no. No one is blindfolding me. Uh uh. No way, no how.” Beth shook her head backing toward her Jeep. “Been there, done that, not going back.”
Grace knew Beth referred to when Octavia had kidnapped her, but she understood B.E.A.R.’s need for caution. She wasn’t crazy about the plan either. No one with any common sense would trust strangers with such strong ties to the society, namely the departed Octavia, without some major reservations.
It was time to take a risk.
“I’m in,” Grace announced, stepping forward.
“Me, too,” Trick declared, also walking over to the side of the bus. “But dude, seriously … you drive the short bus?”
The big guy snorted and raised his chin, humor lighting his eyes.
“Are you crazy? You’re going to let some stranger blindfold you and drive you off to God only knows where?” Beth asked sounding both angry and incredulous.
“Think about it. All of us have ties, regardless of how bad they are, with Octavia and Demetrius. Would you trust us?” Grace answered trying to sound calm, even though her insides were bubbling with anxiety.
“True, but we don’t know him anymore than he knows us.”
Grace watched the debate roll through Beth’s eyes. Her niece didn’t want to go, but damn sure didn’t want them going along without her either.
“Fine. Let’s do this.”
Moss pulled Beth protectively into the crook of his arm.
The burly guy didn’t seem the least bit offended by any of their hesitations and waited patiently in the driver’s seat for them to load up. After everyone took their seats — Beth with Moss, she with Damien and Trick clear in the back by the emergency door — Branch, as he claimed he was named, blindfolded them.
You didn’t have to be magically inclined to feel the tension roiling off everyone. What choice did they really have? None. If there was even a shot in hell they could get some answers and end all this shit, she was taking it.
Grace just prayed the ending came with a happily ever after … and not the other kind. The dead kind.
Chapter Eleven
They hadn’t even made it halfway to headquarters before shit happened. One minute they sat blindfolded on the short bus heading to meet with the ones claiming to have the answers to their questions, the next minute they were ass over end.
Grace heard the explosion at the same time as the others, and ripped her blindfold off to see the bus teeter off its wheels and slide down the highway on its side. Sparks flew as metal met asphalt in a hideous scraping motion.
Thunderous shots rang out, as shattering windows that rained glass down upon them all.
“Get to the front of the bus,” Branch bellowed amid the pandemonium. “The shots are coming from behind us.” The tree-sized man wobbled down the center aisle before the bus had even come to a stop. He had a gun in one hand and a radio in the other.
“B.E.A.R. to base — we’ve an emergency.” Grace prayed the walkie worked with the ungodly reception in these parts.
“Keep behind the seats until I tell you otherwise.” So much for that advice, Grace thought when both Damien and Moss jumped out an open window.
“They have guns and you don’t. Get your dumbass back on this bus,” Beth demanded, threatening to follow the guys if they didn’t listen.
Pssshhht
Grace breathed a sigh of relief when the radio cackled to life.
“We’re almost to you now, Branch. Just tell everyone to lay low. Help’s on the way. Base out.”
“Ten-four, read you loud and clear, my friend.”
A boom ricocheted around the bus. Branch fired back, though did so blindly since he’d already commented he couldn’t actually see anyone. Yet the rounds he fired had the bus vibrating from the sheer volume.
Out of nowhere they heard a stream of curses and grunts. Grace peeked from sheltering behind a seat to see both Trick and Damien dragging two beat souls towards the bus. One man appeared far too frail to be involved in the physical fights he must have placed himself in. The other, a kid younger than even Trick, fought tooth and nail to escape the death grip Trick had on him. Answering her unspoken question of whether those were the only two behind the attack, more shots rang out. Unfortunately, none from Branch’s gun. Both men being drug over to the bus collapsed in Moss’s and Trick’s arms.
Grace screamed for them to get their asses back on the bus. Whoever the hell was the third attacker had sharp shooter aim. Then out of the blue, the attack ended. The boondocks area they were in became deathly silent. Branch continued scanning out the back of the bus while Damien and Trick clamored back on.
Sounds of screeching brakes were music to her ears as Branch, more to himself than anyone in particular, announced, “Better late than never. Cavalry arrived.”
Damien made his way to where she crouched. Grabbing her by the shoulders, he scanned her up one side and down the other.
“You are unharmed?” More of a growl than actual words.
“I’m fine. Quit worrying so much about me. I’m a woman, not a moron. I took cover. Unlike someone I know who went into a gun fight with only a wicked sense of smell,” she pointed out for good measure.
“Who showed up dragging who?” His raised brow proved she wouldn’t win this battle.
“’Bout damn time you ’tards finally bothered to show,” Branch said gruffly to the men racing towards the bus.
“Anyone hurt?” a tall lanky man with an accent Grace couldn’t quite place asked.
“No, but the bus took extensive damage. Boss man is going to have to drop some serious dough on the repairs.” Branch walked around surveying the damage.
Grace cleared her throat, a hint introductions needed to be made.
The towering man walked over and extended a hand in greeting. Well, attempted to, but Damien jumped in front and near hissed at the man.
“Please excuse rude ass over there and allow me to properly introduce myself and these other lugheads. You’ve met Branch,” he thumbed over to their driver, “and the blond Viking wannabe with the streak in his hair is Punge. I’m Coyt, and who might you be?” he asked extending his hand towards her.
“Mine, asshole. That’s who she is.”
“Damien!” Grace whispered, tugging back on the arm he’d tossed in front of her. “Excuse us. We’ve all been through a bit of a … a,” she motioned her hand around to the damaged bus and shell casings scattered about the grounds, “and are a tad unsettled. I assume you are the backup Mr. Branch called? From B.E.A.R.?”
Apparently her use of Mr. with Branch sent the trio of gargantuan men into fits of laughter. Grace bit back an exasperated retort. She’d needed answers, not laughter. Her nerves were shot, she was tired and these men had seriously found and jumped on her last nerve.
She cleared her throat again. Thankfully, they all seemed to settle down and at least feign some seriousn
ess.
“I’m sorry. It’s just not often … ” Coyt started.
“Ever!” the blond called Punge announced, chocking back more laughter.
“No one has ever referred to Branch as anything close to Mr. Our jobs are tedious, dangerous and all around shitass, so please excuse us if we take a moment to de-stress.” Coyt finished.
Wow. With the way he put it, Grace felt like a heel.
“And please excuse me, too. Things haven’t been the best for us either,” she offered sheepishly. The last of her energy drained straight out.
“When was the last time you ate a decent meal?” How Damien picked up on her sudden tiredness she didn’t know, but she was grateful for the strong body to lean against.
“I had a large lunch.”
“A meal was being prepared when we left … I’m sure there will be tons of leftovers. We can talk over dinner,” Coyt said, ushering them towards two separate large vehicles. With the others so quiet Grace suspected they, too, were running out of steam. Normally Beth would have already been raising hell about getting into more strange vehicles, yet her niece hadn’t uttered one complaint when they’d been split up. Beth, Moss, and Trick entered a big black SUV with Punge and Branch, while she and Damien were ushered into Coyt’s Isuzu Trooper.
Wasn’t long before the vehicles turned off road onto what appeared to be a winding dirt road. A good thirty minutes and more butt-busting bumps and turns than she could count, they pulled up in front of a rather impressive compound. Considering they were out in the middle of Boon Fucking Egypt, the place appeared to be quite modern and Fort Knox secure.
She noted cameras blinking high up on the ten-plus foot fencing that surrounded the place. A look-out tower complete with guard and bars covering all the windows she could see, stood ominously to the far of the property.
Paranoid much?
Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Coyt press his thumb against a small black pad and a buzzing sounded before the gates slowly rolled open.
Wow. Shit like the security features they had here didn’t come cheap. Someone within this organization had some serious money. Maybe like the kind she and Faith had read about. Poor people striking it suddenly rich overnight. Though all the monitoring should have settled her nerves, she experienced the opposite emotion. Unease being at the mercy of virtual strangers.
“You seeing all this?” She nudged Damien to make sure he caught the same high security points she did. His sharp nod and intent look proved he had. He squeezed her hand in a reassuring way.
“Home sweet home,” Coyt announced pleasantly.
“Big home,” Damien muttered.
“Well it houses some really big people. You noticed the size of Branch’s neck?” Grace heard the humor, but even Damien seemed edgy judging by his challenging reply.
“Bigger they are, harder they fall.”
Coyt didn’t seem to take offense to Damien’s statement. Instead, the man just shrugged and motioned for them to follow him through the ceiling-high massive front doors.
Beth, Moss, and Trick caught up with them at the foyer. Punge barreled past like his pants were on fire and shouted out “honey, were home” while he beelined toward the back. Grace realized his direction when the mouthwatering smell of something divine hit her nose. The loud grumbling from her stomach caught everyone in the near vicinity’s attention and broke the tension into laughter.
They were ushered down a long hallway where thankfully the aromatic scent of home cooking became stronger. Grace couldn’t get past the warm rustic feel of the interior. While on the outside the place more looked like a new age, steel cool fortress, the inside reminded her of some kind of mountain ski lodge. Rich wood furniture, thick wooly rugs and humongous fireplaces sat in nearly every corner. The ceilings were well past ten feet. Of course the men they followed needed every bit of the extra headspace. The whole scene had a familiar appearance.
Oh shit. The freaking Shining. The place resembled the lodge from her favorite horror movie.
Finally the hallway ended to the opening of a beautiful dining hall.
“Damn, they’re all corn fed, aren’t they?” Beth whispered, obviously in awe of the giants seated around the enormous wooden farm table.
Grace could only nod at the sight.
Each more occupied with digging into the numerous platters and bowls than with the newbies standing before them.
A loud belch to their right reverted attention back toward Coyt, though Branch’s red face made it clear who the offender was.
“We’ve company among us. Why don’t you take a breath from Hoovering the food and introduce yourselves,” Coyt suggested, shooting death glares at Branch.
A loud clattering drew the group’s gazes to the left where another lumberjack-size man grabbed plates off a large maple wood credenza and was settling to dive in for the feast.
“Yo, pretty ladies. Name’s Slick, but for such lovelies you can call me anytime.” A thin man stood and bowed before them. It wasn’t just Damien who bristled at the man’s innuendo. Grace caught Beth trying to settle Moss down from his agitated state. Didn’t stop his menacing glare at the man or the possessive arm he wound around Beth’s waist.
“Ignore Fido over here, I’m Red and it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” A rather pretty redhead said, nodding her head in greeting since they were too far apart to shake hands.
“I’m Bev,” a quiet woman sitting in the back said. Something about her spoke of sadness to Grace, though she wasn’t sure why. The woman smiled, and for the most part appeared okay. But something in her eyes screamed sorrow.
When Branch went to stab the last steak on the platter, another of the men, nearly took his hand off for doing so.
“You freaking heathens. What’s our guests going to think of us? We’re supposed to be proving to them we’re the good guys,” Red chastised.
Grace surveyed the unruly group before them and couldn’t help but wonder what they’d all gotten themselves into.
Chapter Twelve
Squire couldn’t pull his gaze away from the monitor. From her. His heart thundered in his chest. His hands shook when he reached to hit zoom on the camera’s monitors. After all these years of wondering. Of deep rooted desire and need to see her up close. Under his roof. Yeah he’d checked up on her. Made sure she’d been as safe as he could keep her, from long distance. Happy. But to view her so close yet so damn far tore his heart in two. Ripped open an old wound that still bore raw edges. He still loved Grace. He always would, he supposed. His first true love. The woman he’d vowed to love, cherish, and protect forever.
He’d lied.
“Figured I’d find you up here mooning away.” Squire caught Bev studying him. He understood he must appear haggard and realized of everyone, Bev wouldn’t buy any lie he gave. Bev, the only one who understood the link he shared with Grace. And armed with this secret, he hoped to squelch the spark he knew smoldered between them. Bev deserved more. All of someone’s love. Not the ghost of a man that lingered within a dead soul.
“Scoping out the newbies.” He tried to feign disinterest anyway. Maybe Bev would cut him some slack. During a few moments of weakness, he’d shared bits of his past with her. It’ was wrong of him to do so knowing her feelings for him. For the life of him, he had no idea why she seemed smitten with someone like him. Bev was gorgeous. She wasn’t a snob about it either. Hell, most of the time she acted like a wallflower, uncomfortable with the beauty that naturally radiated from her.
“One in particular I bet.” Her voice held quiet accusation and only added to his feelings of guilt.
“So what did you pick up from them? Anything?” he wondered, trying to get her to change her course of assumptions.
“They seem okay. Curious of what they’ve been swept up in. I don’t blame them for not trusting us. Of course if we told the whole truth … ”
“No!” He whirled around in his chair. Eyes blazing no doubt, but damn if her words didn�
��t bring the anger boiling to the surface in record time. “Bev, I mean this. Not a word of who I really am to them.”
“Yeah, well I think you’re being a pompous ass about the issue. If they knew the link, their trust would come much quicker. I thought this whole venture stemmed over teaming up against a common enemy. I’m starting to wonder if this was more about a chance for you to get close to her again.” Bev flicked a finger towards the computer monitor frozen on a snapshot of Grace.
“I can assure you, telling them my secrets won’t help our cause. End of story. I’d appreciate if you please let the matter die. “He hated being so firm with her, but she’d pushed the boundaries.
“Fine. Though I want to go on record as not agreeing with your decision. I don’t think you’re being fair to anyone involved over a secret this big. Shit’s going to come back and bite you in the ass. Mark my words, Squire.”
“Duly noted.” Bev stormed out in a huff. She’d been the first he’d recruited. His only companion for many years and if things were different, he could have easily seen himself falling in love with her. Guilt plagued him he hadn’t. She was a remarkable woman who deserved to be cherished. Sadly, his heart long since became cold. Died, the day he did.
He switched the monitors back on and caught the woman who held his heart being ushered to the guest quarters. His vision zeroed in on the big guy trailing in protection mode behind her. His mannerisms around Grace screamed his familiarity with her. Thoughts of the man’s hands over his Grace turned dinner sour in his stomach. Yeah, he wished her happy, but damn he did not want to see the man she found that happiness with.
He flipped the switch and turned the inside monitors off. Enough with the self loathing and pining for what could never be again.
Squire barely stomached viewing the duo walk into the same room together. Didn’t trust he’d be able to refrain from ripping the guy’s testicles from his body for touching his woman. He needed to get out. Needed some of the crisp night air to wipe her memories clean, again.
Squire slammed out the door and caught a misty eyed Bev pushing the elevator buttons. She turned her head, but he caught her expression first. He wouldn’t be the only one suffering tonight. He truly was the bastard he’d been called so many times.
