by A. E. Murphy
Maddox…
What have you done?
“I’ve got you,” I whisper in her hair and follow my long-time lawyer, Feinstein, to his car.
“She doesn’t even have shoes on. That goes against so many human rights laws. I will personally be putting in a complaint about that,” he grumbles, and I have to agree.
I am livid. Absolutely livid.
I lower her into the back seat and climb in after her.
She doesn’t speak, I wonder if she’s in shock. She screamed for me when those fuckers pinned me and Tasered me. I damn near pissed my pants. Thugs. It was severely unnecessary.
“You did good, kid,” Feinstein tells Tempest. “Samuels said she didn’t speak a word. Not a single word. Not even her name.”
I relax. “Good, then they can’t implicate her.”
“They didn’t read me my rights,” she says so quietly I hardly hear her.
“Would you swear on that?” Feinstein asks hopefully.
“I just want to go home,” she murmurs, looking out of the window. “I’ve never been arrested before. Is this going on my record?”
“No,” I promise her. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“And you did?” She looks so tired and sad. “What’s going on, Sargent? What happened?”
“Nothing we can talk about here,” I reply softly, kissing her forehead. “I’m so sorry.”
I call my people, my staff, my son, repeatedly. This is going to be such a shit storm.
My house is trashed, well and truly. My lawyer takes pictures of the damage as I return to Tempest in the car. She shifts away from me and sniffles softly, I see the reflection of a tear trail on her cheek.
“We’ll go to a hotel.” I try to place my hand on hers but she slides it away and uses it to wipe her eyes.
“Where’s Maddox?” Her voice is scratchy, probably from the screaming earlier. She was terrified for me.
“We’ll find him.”
When Feinstein returns, the roar of a bike ascends my steep driveway. I turn and look out of the back window of the car and he appears on his Harley.
Stone pulls up far too close and rips off his helmet.
I climb out of the car, leaving Tempest where she is and instruct her to lock the doors.
“Got the feds turning over my compound. Wanna tell me what the fuck is going on?” He looks angry, and high. Not a good combination.
“Somebody in my company unfortunately discovered a crate and called the police,” I explain calmly.
“Who?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
His eyes narrow, he’s never intimidated me, not until this moment when I find myself without a weapon, in just shorts, sneakers, and a white T. He’s as big as I am and far more psychotic. I’m not liking my odds. “I asked, who.”
“They have been dealt with,” I reply and find myself pinned against the side of the car with his hands fisting in my T, gripping the fabric and pulling it up to my neck as he tries to cut off my air supply with his knuckles.
“I ASKED WHO!”
I hear the car door open and close.
“Stop!” Tempest yells and Stone’s grip on me loosens just enough for me to shove him away. He goes back a step but his eyes stay on me. “Please. I can’t take anymore tonight. He’ll still be here tomorrow for you to kick the shit out of. I just need a joint and I need a bed.”
That took an interesting turn.
“Definite old lady material,” Stone mutters and his anger slowly dissipates as he takes in Tempest’s appearance. “Where the fuck are her shoes?”
“They arrested her without them and turned over the house.”
“Why they take her?” His anger is back but for a different reason this time.
“Because they’re dicks. Why else?”
“Fuck.” Stone pushes his hair back and shakes his head. “This shit is getting too hot.”
“Whatever this is, if you think they’re not listening in right now you’re both idiots,” Tempest snaps. “And for the record, I have fuck all to do with it. Whatever it is.”
We both look at her and then at each other. I wince because she’s right and he looks around, his nose high as he tries to peer through the dark shrubbery that surrounds my property.
“Mr. Wolf.” Feinstein leaves the house and strides to us, his face a grim mask. “All of that priceless art work, they’ve trashed it. I will nail them.”
“Dirty fucking cops,” Stone grumbles and returns to his bike. “I want a name, Wolf. So will the Russian whore. If she wasn’t coming before, she is now.”
He clips on his helmet, winks at Tempest, and then the bike roars to life.
“Call me when you’re ready to talk.”
We wait for him to disappear before climbing into the car. I call my people, all of them, and demand they find Maddox. If I don’t get to him before Stone and Nastya do, we are fucked. They will kill him for this.
I’ve never been so terrified before.
It distracts me from what the fuck I’m going to tell Cassius. He’ll never forgive me either.
“Whatever it is,” Tempest says softly during the ride to the hotel. She places her hand on my thigh and rests her head on my shoulder. “It’ll work out. You’ll fix it.”
My arm goes around her shoulders and I hold her and accept the comfort she’s offering. It helps but only a little, but a little is better than nothing.
Tempest
I can’t sleep, neither can Sargent. He keeps calling Maddox, and every time there’s no answer, I see his panic rise. Even I don’t know where he could be at this point.
I hope he’s safe.
“Are you sure he hasn’t been arrested?” I ask, chewing on the nail bed of my thumb.
“Yes, Feinstein assured me he hasn’t been taken in.”
“I want to know, but then I also don’t,” I say softly. “How bad is it?”
The look he gives me makes me cringe. I want to demand answers as to why this is happening but I can’t. It would only implicate me. Whatever he’s into is his thing and I want no part of it.
But I can’t just be blind to everything. I need to know what it is he’s a part of.
“You’re not trafficking women, are you?” I blurt and his lips part.
“That’s the first worst thing you think of when you look at me?”
“You don’t think of women much beyond their vaginas.”
He doesn’t reply for a long time and I fear the worst. “It’s not women, I’d never…” Now I feel awful for asking.
“You can tell me, if you want to. I’m listening.”
His eyes shine with an unfathomable look. I wonder if it’s vulnerability laced with regret but it’s fleeting and I’m too burdened by my own emotions to try and pick his apart. “No judgment?”
“No judgment.”
He blows out a long and heavy sigh.
“My ex-wife has always been adventurous with heavy drugs. She dabbled and sometimes so did I. We were stupid and thought it would be okay.” His throat bobs as he gulps, trying to find the courage to go on. “I stopped when Maddox was conceived, she couldn’t. I didn’t realize how far she’d fallen. I got cocky and busy starting up the company with Cassius. We were making money but not enough to get to where we needed to be. My ex-wife’s ties with a local drug dealer helped get the money to front my company, so long as I paid them twenty percent of my personal earnings.”
“Shit,” I mutter, not liking where this is heading.
“Nobody knows, not even Cassius.”
And he’s telling me? Does that mean he trusts me or does he really need it off his chest?
“When business took off a few years later, Yaroslava, literally the fucking leader of the Russian mafia, decided to take Maddox.”
Every single part of me tenses. My heart thuds against my ribs.
“Does Maddox know?”
“He was four, I doubt he remembers, I’ve never asked as he was unharmed and was covered in ice cre
am and cake crumbs when he was returned. Yaroslava was simply showing me how easy it would be for him to take my family from me before he made a proposition that changed everything.” His hands fist and his jaw clenches. “I’d already paid him back what I borrowed and more through our twenty percent, but now…”
“Is this something to do with the extra container Maddox was talking about a while ago?” It’s not hard to put two and two together at this point.
“You knew he was scoping something out?”
I startle at his anger and stare at him, gaping, before snapping, “He just thought it was a mistake and then he never really mentioned it again. I told him to speak to you but I think he wanted to impress you. What was in the crate?”
“Drugs,” he replies simply. “Weapons. You name it.”
“Jesus,” I murmur. “Well if Maddox thinks you’re behind it he’ll never come back to you. Beyond marijuana he despises drugs.”
Sargent’s eyes dim with defeat and he slides down the wall until his rear hits the floor. “I need to find him before they do.”
“That’s the deal you were trying to gamble out of? Is Stone the leader?”
He shakes his head. “He’s as good as. He runs the operation with his club. If he backs out, Yaroslava will have a hard time finding people to keep it going.”
“What does this mean for it all now?”
“Now that the feds are involved? It’ll never go again. My freights will be constantly searched.”
Is there a glimmer of hope in there somewhere? “That’s good right?”
“No, because Cassius will likely force me out, as he should, Maddox could die if I don’t figure out a way to keep his name out of it.”
“What about you? What will they do to you?”
My eyes fill with tears as I process the information.
“I’m going to book you a flight, I want you away from here as soon as possible,” he says after moving to crouch before me. His hands pull mine away from my face and I wonder if he can see the heartbreak he put there. “I don’t want to send you away. But it isn’t safe. They will use you to hurt me. These people are sick. There’s no end game now. Only vengeance. I’ve just lost him millions in trade.”
“I don’t want to leave you.” I sniff. “And Maddox…”
“I’ll take care of my son, but I need you to be strong and do as I ask. If this ever blows over, I’ll come for you.”
I stare at the graying sky through the window as the sun rises. This is the first time since I arrived in Malibu that it looks gloomy. Or perhaps it’s my new mood reflecting on my vision.
“I don’t have shoes, or my things, my passport is still at your house.” I chew on my lip and wipe at my wet cheeks. “Let me get my belongings and say goodbye to Devon and Fidget…”
“I can’t take that chance. I’ll call somebody to collect them. Marcy is booking your flight right now.”
I wrap my arms around his neck and bury my face there. “I’m so scared, Sargent. I don’t want anyone to get hurt.”
“Me too,” he replies quietly. “That’s why I need you gone so I can focus.”
“There’s something else.” I pull away and search his eyes. I don’t want to add to his stresses. “I…”
“What is it?”
“I’m late.”
His eyes remain the same but his fingers dig into my thighs a fraction harder.
“This isn’t the first time though so it’s probably not that but I just… I needed you to know.” In case he’s right and he dies. That sounds morbid and horrible but I’ve never felt fear like this. Everything was perfect and now it’s not. “But if I am, what do I do?”
He stares at me for a longer moment, unblinking. His lips part and close and then he stands and rips his hands through his short hair before looking down at me.
“Are you angry?” I ask quietly. “Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“I’m not angry.” His reply sounds soft and genuine, so I relax. “Just because you’re carrying it doesn’t shift the blame to you. I should have known better. It was inevitable.”
He’s not angry or upset like I expected him to be.
“If you are, we’ll figure it out, but right now, I can’t think about that. I need you out of here, okay? Yaroslava’s psychopathic daughter is in America and she could be here already. She’s bitchy and bitter and you’re a million times prettier and younger than her so you need to go.”
I stand and he envelops me in a warm hug.
“If you are, whatever you choose, it’s your body and your decision and I will support you,” he whispers. “But, you mustn’t contact me until I contact you. Do you understand?”
At his words, I shudder with emotion and hold him tighter. “I don’t want to leave.”
“You must.”
“I know, but I don’t want to.” We rock together in the steadily rising sunlight before he pulls away and makes more calls, calls to get me the shit I need.
Tempest
Four hours later, I’m on my way to the airport with one of his security guys and I can’t stop replaying the past twenty-four hours in my head.
He didn’t freak out at the possibility of my pregnancy. He didn’t get mad or tell me to abort. He told me he’d support me. He says I’m his weakness.
I love him. Despite the shit he’s in. And Maddox… I’m so worried for him I wish he’d answer his phone.
It’s my number now, surely he should recognize it? He knows I have nothing to do with this. What if they already have him?
I push that thought away and chew on my nail bed again. A bad habit I’ve picked up lately and intend to stop doing as soon as I’m out of the country.
It hasn’t sunk in yet. I really don’t want to leave but what choice do I have? He’s right. I’ll just complicate the situation.
So why has he just texted me?
Sargent: You can come back home. It’s done. They have their guy.
I try to call him as I frown at his message on the screen. I look to the man on my right.
“Something doesn’t feel right about this.” If it’s not him texting me then does that mean they have him?
“What’s wrong?” my driver slash security personnel asks calmly.
“I just got a text message from Sargent asking me to go back.”
He takes my phone from my hand and carefully looks at the message. His eyes flicker to the road and back to the phone. “I have to take you to the airport.”
“I know,” I reply. “I don’t think it’s him.”
His brows furrow with his own anxieties and suspicions as he connects to the Bluetooth in the car and calls the contact, “Bossman.”
Unfortunately, Bossman doesn’t answer and neither do two other guys who he calls immediately after.
“Fuck,” he mutters. He presses something in his ear and speaks a bunch of military-sounding jargon that I don’t understand. Then he starts yelling, which turns to begging. He looks at me and I know he’s thinking the worst too. “I’m taking you to the airport and seeing you on that plane. Don’t argue with me, I’m not in the mood.”
I nod once because I don’t want to add to his plate either. But then, after building up the courage to challenge a stranger I ask, “But what if they need help?”
“You are my priority.”
“You’re not getting paid if he’s dead,” I retort firmly, hoping the money will entice him to do what I want him to.
He frowns. “I don’t give a fuck. If I take you back there and you end up dead that’ll be on my conscience. Not everything is about money. I care about the people I protect.”
For the first time in hours I smile, it’s weak but it’s there. “You’re a good person, Miles.”
“I need to concentrate,” he grumbles and flips his sunglasses over his eyes.
I take that massive hint and turn away, pleading with God, if he exists, to figure this out. I know I’m in way over my head and I should be gratefully running
for the hills but I never was very good at staying away from danger. Maddox doesn’t deserve this. What if he needs me? He’d never leave me behind.
But I don’t know where he is so how can I help?
I want to cry.
I don’t know how to handle all of this.
Sargent
I kick a shirt to the other side of my closet and sigh gravely. Especially when I see her underwear beneath it next to an open tube of deodorant. Weeks ago I’d have been furious at the sight, annoyed by the clutter, but it hasn’t been something that has bothered me in the slightest.
I think of the products I purchased for her myself for my personal en suite so when we showered together she’d smell of lavender or berries. I think of the way she dropped her clothes onto my floor and all I’d do is step over them. She’d pick them up eventually, once changed or showered, but it never bothered me.
And now, her things linger and she’s gone and I remember why I hated the clutter.
My house is a mess because of the feds and her things are everywhere, reminding me of her every moment. It makes me feel nauseous and bitter. I want her back. I want all of this to go away so I can pin her to the couch and insist she nap with me, before taking her to the store and buying her everything she looks at so she can fill my home with more clutter to remind me of her.
You know you’re growing fond of a woman when you want them to nap with you, not fuck you. Though I wouldn’t mind that either.
“Any news?” I ask my head of security, Tucker. He’s at the door, his shoulders against the frame.
I brush past him and he follows, his hand on his gun. “None yet. Which is good because it means they don’t have him.”
Hopefully Samuels will have stricken his name from the database. He’s the only fed I trust and rely on. He said he would do all he could but he couldn’t promise anything. It all depends on those who handled the case, if they were dirty or not. Chances are at least one of them would have been and the name would have been passed back to Stone’s boys.
Maddox… what the hell have you done?
When I hear the roar of a bike in my driveway, Tucker steps in front of me and radios to his companions who are circling my property. “We have company. Be ready.”
