“If they quit killing my soldiers,” Anton muttered. “Just stay away from us.”
“I think that can be arranged,” Nash told the Russian. He paused a moment, and then he offered his hand. He had to take several steps closer to the Russian in order to do so.
Anton stared at Nash’s hand for several seconds before he shrugged and took the offered handshake. It appeared that the crisis was over—for the moment.
Chapter Twenty-Five
“So it’s just over?” Kayla was obviously incensed.
Carson put his arms around her curvy frame and pulled her back against him. It felt so good to hold her. There had been more than one moment in the last few days that he had begun to wonder if he’d ever have the chance to hold her again.
Of course, that risk hadn’t really ended. Not yet. Carson rested his chin on top of her head and sighed. “Can you relax for just one second?” he pleaded. “You’ve made it plenty clear that you don’t believe any of this is done and over with.”
“Do you?” She squirmed out of his embrace and turned to face him. “How can you believe this is over?”
They had all gathered at Kayla’s loft to do what amounted to a debriefing. Analise and Quentin were crashed on the couches. Wrath and Tegan were in their own little world as they shared the big overstuffed chair. Nash stood by the windows just scratching his chin and brooding. They weren’t much of a happy bunch despite the fact that they had been successful.
Finally, Nash turned around to face them all. The expression on his face even managed to make Kayla stop verbally listing all of the things that were currently wrong in her world.
“Team,” Nash began in a clear voice. Then he smiled at Tegan. “And I’m including our new business manager in that by the way.”
Kayla gave an inelegant snort. Carson pulled her back into his arms. He wondered how long he was going to have this time. He had a bad feeling in his gut about Nash’s speech.
Nash crossed his arms over his broad chest. “We’ve been officially removed from the Hyde-Pierson case. Stedman Hyde-Pierson is no longer our client, although there’s quite a bit of disagreement about who actually terminated the contract.”
There was a round of low murmurs and laughter. Nobody doubted that Stedman would insist on being the one to do the dumping. The guy was a classic narcissist in that way.
“What I need to talk to you about though,” Nash continued, “is the fact that we are no longer involved in this case. That means we no longer have a reason to be in this city. We have other jobs elsewhere that need our attention. So what’s it going to be? Are we going to go where the money is? To tell you the truth, I’m a little torn on that score.”
Carson was beginning to suspect that much of Nash’s hesitation was because of Ava, but he would never be the one to say that out loud. So, he cleared his throat instead. “Are you saying that you believe the threat to Kayla, Tegan, Ralston, and the other members of their family is over?”
“No.” Nash sighed. “I’m not saying that at all.” He rubbed a hand down his face. He looked tired. “In fact, I would speculate the opposite. It’s plain to see that Stedman Hyde-Pierson is in this Russian Bratva crap up to his eyebrows. I’m not sure exactly why or how. I think that if we stick around and keep poking, we’ll need Ralston to help us do some electronic digging. But in the end, I believe that Stedman has an agenda he hasn’t revealed yet. He’s bound to be pissed as hell that we didn’t eliminate the man I would call his rival.”
Carson wanted to speak up so badly that he could hardly keep silent, but it wasn’t his place. Fortunately, Wrath was ready to throw himself out there. “I’m not leaving Tegan here to deal with this crap on her own.”
“I agree,” Nash said with a nod. “Tegan is one of us now. We won’t leave her alone and unprotected here in Boston while we’re on the road. She’ll be handling our business matters, but that doesn’t mean the poor woman needs to travel with us either.”
Tegan raised her hand. “Someone has to hold Wrath accountable for all of the cars he destroys during missions.”
“Hey!” Wrath protested. “You’re supposed to be on my side.”
“Then stop wrecking your cars,” Tegan sniped. “Do you have any idea how much it costs to replace one of those? The rental car company has already threatened to fire us!”
Finally it was Quentin who spoke. The man so rarely said anything at all that everyone immediately quieted down just to listen when he did. “This bastard turned two of our own against us. I know that none of us were particularly close to Bridge or Jinx, but they were marines just like us. We were all overseas together. We got sand in our boots and took fire for each other. The idea that Stedman Hyde-Pierson would incite them to turn their back on that soldier’s bond—a marine’s bone—is disgusting. Personally, I don’t want to leave until I see that man punished for what he’s done.”
The low murmurs of assent made Carson feel calmer somehow. He didn’t want to leave Kayla. He wasn’t ready. But perhaps putting if off was only delaying the inevitable.
“Carson?” Nash seemed to guess what was going through his head. “Thoughts?”
“I don’t like to leave things unfinished,” Carson said simply. “This feels worse than unfinished. If we quit now, who will pick it up and stop these assholes from destroying the people who get sucked into this bullshit situation against their will? Do you think Kayla or Ralston or even Tegan wanted to be in this? What about Ava? What about the—what is she—a former sister-in-law? This guy thinks he can just use people, take their resources, and then discard them at will.” Carson looked around at his fellow marines. “I don’t know about you guys, but I did not fight and bleed on foreign soil to protect a shit like Stedman Hyde-Pierson. I don’t care what my government says.”
CARSON’S WORDS TOUCHED Kayla deeply. She wasn’t alone in that though. Just about everyone in the room gave a “hear, hear.” They nodded their emphatic agreement. Whatever emotions Carson’s speech had aroused in them managed to get everyone on their feet as well. There were muttered thoughts about going to pack or to close up shop at Stedman’s estate with a consensus of setting up shop at Ava’s house. Kayla was certain her aunt would be thrilled.
The loft had seemed full to the rafters only moments ago, and less than ten minutes later, it was just her and Carson and the blessed silence of her familiar studio space. She could see the clay pot she had thrown less than a week ago waiting to be glazed and then put into the kiln. The sketchpad she had put aside only the night before was still there on the nightstand. It was home. And yet it was also inexplicably changed after the events of the past few days.
Carson cupped her face. “Are you all right?”
“I think so.” Kayla exhaled a soft sigh. “Everything has changed.”
“Yes,” he agreed without even a pause. “I think that’s just the nature of things in general.”
“What’s going to happen?” She wasn’t even really sure what she was asking him, but it was important. She knew that.
“I’m going to stay here with you,” he told her gently. He put his arms around her and began swaying back and forth as though they were dancing without music. “I’m not sure about the rest. I suppose we’ll continue to try and unravel this mess. If your life is still in danger, we’ll be working on figuring out how to eliminate that threat.”
“I think once the legal issues are settled, my uncle won’t have any reason to want me dead,” Kayla mused. “It’s not like I would ever make him my heir. He’ll have no access to the money. And if he pisses me off too much, I’ll consider taking him to court over the whole stealing from my inheritance thing.”
Carson made a noise as he spun her around the loft. “Do you really think that would help matters any?”
“No,” Kayla admitted. She took a step away from Carson, held onto his hand, and did a little twirl. “But it would make me feel a lot better.”
“Oh, I see.” He was smiling.
“Are y
ou planning on working for Nash until you—well, I guess until you retire?” Kayla wanted to know. “I never asked why you got out of the marines.”
Carson shrugged. “My hitch was up. I had already been in for ten years. I thought about going career, but then Nash contacted me and asked me if I wanted this job.”
“Don’t most marines go career unless they get out for a medical reason or something?” Kayla cocked her head at him as he began moving her in a swing rhythm. “And I know they don’t teach marines how to dance.”
“My mother,” he explained. “She taught all her sons to dance.”
“All her sons?” Kayla gaped. “There are more of you?”
“I have three brothers and two sisters.” Carson grinned. “My family is in Colorado. We’re a pretty low-key, small-town kind of bunch. You’ll like them, although I know they won’t know what to think of you.”
“Is that bad?” She suddenly felt apprehensive that his family might not like her. Wait. Why did she even care?
“They’ll love you,” he assured her. “My sisters will take one look at that bohemian thing you have going on and they’ll be trying to pretend to be you.”
“How young are they?” Kayla suddenly realized that she knew absolutely nothing about him. The thought made her sick to her stomach. “How young are you? I’m twenty-three. Wait. You knew that already.”
“I’m twenty-nine. My sisters are the youngest, so they are eighteen and sixteen. My brothers are in their twenties. We’re pretty close together. My parents are still married, and they sort of resemble one of those fifties sitcoms. I’m not asking you to marry my family, Kayla. I don’t really care what they think. I was glad to leave home because I wanted to do and see new things. If Boston is where you’d like to stay, I’m fine right here.”
“Wait.” She realized what he’d just said. “Marry your family? Meaning that you’re somehow insinuating that you want to marry me?”
“Yes.”
“You do?” The words sort of slipped out before she thought them through. Great. Now it sounded like she was begging for compliments.
Carson only smiled. The handsome sight of him turned her brain to mush anyway. “Will you marry me, Kayla Hyde?”
She had only known him—well, not long enough. They’d slept together. Sometimes she wasn’t sure exactly why she had slept with him, but she knew that she wanted to do it again and again and again, and why was she even debating this in her head? “You hardly know me!”
“I’ll get to know you.” He pulled her in close and nuzzled her neck. “Getting to know you will be half the fun. I can’t wait to learn more about you and have you learn more about me. Isn’t that what life is all about anyway?”
He was right. What? Did she want to be one of those women that had some weird quota that kept them dating a guy forever before they would let him make a move? Was she trying to follow some kind of rules? That wasn’t her. Kayla was spontaneous. She always had been. Why couldn’t that mean she married a man who was as much her opposite as he was her match?
“Carson Holcum,” she said with a laugh. “I would be honored to marry you. As long as you don’t ask me to wear a white dress.”
Carson made a face. “If I had wanted the belle of the ball and a white picket fence, I would have stayed back in Colorado.”
“Then I guess you were smart enough to come out here and find me.” Kayla wrinkled her nose, stood on tiptoe, and kissed the breath out of the man she fully intended to love for the rest of her life.
ANALISE
Chapter One
The laughter of Boston’s elite rose to echo off the walls of the historic building. The best champagne and wine were on offer, and trays full of expensive delicacies circulated on the arms of waiters dressed to the nines. It was just one more night in the whirl of the Boston social scene. One more night of business deals and debauchery. What more could a city’s most affluent citizens ask for?
Ralston Hyde-Pierson smiled and offered a wink to one of the young socialites clustered at the edge of the room. Ralston generally avoided society events like the plague. They were more of a marriage auction than a party. This particular soiree was being held at Boston’s Custom House. The hotel inside the historic landmark had access to the rotunda and the incredible observation deck, which offered views of the Boston skyline as the sun set over the harbor.
The weight of the flash drive in his pocket was a reminder of exactly why Ralston was here. The party brought the elite out of their rat holes and into the open where Ralston could finally get what he needed.
“Ralston!”
He froze, pasted his most charming smile into place, and then turned to greet the grande dame of Boston society. “Mrs. Peabody.” Ralston took her hand and bent over to kiss the old lady’s knuckles. She tittered like some teenager even though she had to be pushing seventy. “You look beautiful tonight, as always.” In a dress designed for a woman no older than nineteen.
She smacked his forearm with her fan. “Such a charmer! I always tell your mother that she did a splendid job with you. We need to find you a lucky lady to walk down the aisle.” She kept tapping him with her fan. Ralston fought the urge to grab the thing and fling it across the room. “Eldest son, you know,” she reminded him. “You’ve a responsibility to carry on that family name of yours!”
Hyde-Pierson. Yes. He wasn’t likely to forget now, was he? Ralston forced himself to smile. “Perhaps if any of the young ladies were as charming as you are, I would be smitten enough to propose.”
“You devil!”
He had the most bizarre sensation of déjà vu. Probably because he’d had this conversation with the woman at least eighty times over the years. Or maybe it was because the conversation sounded like it had been taken from some second-rate romance novel where some infamous rake eventually falls for the debutante in the scandalously low-cut gown. Whatever the case, Ralston had better things to do with his time.
“If you’ll excuse me?” He offered Mrs. Peabody a smile and then melted back into the crowd.
Ralston spotted Nigel Phillips across the room. Perfect. The man was up to his elbows in wine, escargot, and foie gras. What a combination, but it did mean that he was unlikely to return to his room upstairs anytime soon. This was the moment Ralston needed.
Moving leisurely through the crowd of guests, Ralston nodded to several acquaintances. It was important that people see him down here in the middle of the party. Not that they would even notice when he slipped away, but it was still a good alibi. He paused to have a word with a board member of the Bank & Trust. Then he said hello to several of the executives from his own father’s company, Hyde-Pierson Financial.
Finally, he reached the far side of the room and the doors kept propped open for the staff to use. Meandering toward the hallway, he glanced around to see if anyone was watching him. It was impossible to know what the whole room was doing, but there was nothing overt happening to make him feel as though he were being observed either.
Lengthening his stride, Ralston quickly found his way to the end of the hall. The kitchen doors were to his right, and a bank of elevators sat on the left. He pushed the button for the elevator and then ducked into the kitchen.
“Excuse me?” He used the tone of voice that always reminded him of his father. Imperious, entitled, pretty much the tone of an asshole. “Excuse me, can I get some service here?”
A bald man in a suit hustled over. “How can I help you, sir?”
“There is no Madeira out there,” Ralston snapped. “How can you call this service without the Madeira?”
The man’s bushy eyebrows shot skyward. “I’m terribly sorry, sir. I will have some sent out right away.”
The manager turned away from Ralston and raised his hand to get the attention of a server. Out in the hallway, Ralston heard the ding of the elevator. In front of him, the manager’s hotel badge was exposed. Ralston unclipped the badge and retreated from the kitchen as though he were that same asshole g
uest returning to the party after dressing down the staff for an imagined slight.
Instead of heading back down the hallway, Ralston slipped into the elevator just before the doors closed. The trip up to the thirtieth floor seemed to take an eternity. Ralston wondered if this was the reality of espionage, spy work, and all of those other things that were made exciting by Hollywood. The excitement was all fine and dandy until you had to wait ten minutes for your elevator to get to your destination.
Finally, the elevator dinged and the doors whooshed open. Ralston exited quickly and immediately turned left. Suite 3220 was directly in front of him now. He inserted the manager’s hotel badge into the key slot. The red light turned green and the lock clicked. Ralston was in.
He felt a moment’s elation as he considered the fact that he had most certainly not been trained for this sort of work. It had become more necessity than anything else. There was a laptop sitting on the desk, but Ralston wasn’t stupid enough to think that was what he was looking for.
A black laptop bag sat on the floor between the desk and the dresser. Ralston reached inside and drew out a slim electronic notebook. He opened the screen and inserted the flash drive from his pocket. The malware he had created immediately went to work. Within less than five minutes, he had sent the contents of the laptop to his personal server, had installed a virus that would continue to send information to his dummy servers, and was putting the notebook back into its case.
Ralston exited the hotel room and let the door click closed behind him. He stepped into the elevator for another interminable ride to the bottom. Unfortunately, when the doors whooshed open, he found himself face to face with his father.
“Ralston?” Stedman Hyde-Pierson raised his eyebrows. “What were you doing upstairs?” Stedman glanced around. “In fact, why are you here? You hate these parties.”
Ralston suddenly felt as though his skin were too tight for his body. He offered his father a cool smile and tried desperately to resist the urge to put his fist in his father’s face. It would have been so satisfying to wipe that oily smile off the bastard’s mouth.
Nash Security Solutions Page 31
