Too Wilde to Tame (Wilde Security)

by Tonya Burrows

  “Yeah, I believe her,” Jude said.

  “She’ll keep him in line,” Reece agreed. And, okay, after taking a punch to the face, he was entitled to that little dig. Greer had been out of line, after all.

  “Make sure he takes those eight hours,” Vaughn said, and there was no mistaking his meaning. Sleep, not sex.

  “And he needs to eat something,” Cam added.

  Greer ground his teeth together. “Stop it. I don’t need a babysitter.”

  All gazes focused on him with varying degrees of dubiousness. Even Natalie, who looked the most doubtful of them all.

  “All right.” He held up his hands in surrender. See, he could admit defeat. Sometimes. “Yeah, I deserve that.” He’d done nothing lately to earn their trust, but, as he gazed around the room at the people who meant the world to him, he realized he’d have to fix that.

  Because maybe he wasn’t as ready to leave this world as he thought.

  …

  “I’m proud of you.”

  Several steps in front of Natalie on the stairs to their floor, Greer froze and half turned to look at her over his shoulder. If she had to put a name to his expression, it’d be “utter disbelief.” It’d also be “exhausted.”

  The man had been through the ringer tonight, no doubt about it.

  And yet he was shocked that anyone could be proud of him? Ego was certainly not one of his flaws.

  She closed the distance between them and kissed his cheek as she passed. He didn’t move until she reached the top of the stairs, pushed open the heavy metal door, and raised a brow at him.

  He took the stairs two at a time and caught the door just before it fell shut. “Why would you be proud of me?”

  “Why wouldn’t I?” She stopped in front of her door and fished in her coat pocket for her keys. By unspoken agreement, they had decided he’d be staying at her place for the day. He didn’t even glance at his apartment door.

  Jet greeted them enthusiastically, tail smacking back and forth between their legs like a happy whip. If he didn’t calm down, they’d end up with tail-shaped bruises on their calves.

  Absently, Greer reached down to give the dog an ear scratch. Jet plopped his butt on the floor, his eyes all but rolling back in his head at the attention.

  Greer didn’t take his gaze off her. “I’ve done horrible things. You know it all now. You should be horrified, not proud.”

  “I’m both,” she admitted and grabbed Jet’s leash from the hook by the door. “Not horrified at you, but at what was done to you. A lesser man would have cracked under the pressure, and you were only a kid.”

  He winced. “Don’t do that. Don’t put me up on a heroic pedestal. It’s bad enough to know that Jude sees me—saw me as some kind of superhero.”

  “Everyone looks up to their older brother. I did—”

  “Until you didn’t,” he interrupted.

  She shook her head and bent down to clip on Jet’s leash. “That’s different. Mathew’s never sacrificed anything for anyone. His own son barely knows him. He’s lived a life driven by selfish impulses. He’s nothing like you.”

  “I don’t want the responsibility of being anyone’s hero.” He took the leash from her hand. “I’ll walk him.”

  Straightening, she blew a wayward stand of hair out of her eyes. “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah. I need…” He trailed off as if unsure what he needed. After a visible struggle, he finished, “Some time alone.”

  Given how unpredictable he’d been lately, the last thing she wanted was to let him have time to brood. But nor could she follow him around and mother over him for the rest of his life. Heck, she didn’t want a relationship she had to mother over. She wanted a partner, and she wanted that partner to be Greer. At some point, she had to trust that he’d be okay by himself, or their relationship wouldn’t survive.

  She gazed down at her dog. The only sign of Jet’s impatience to get on with his walk was his brown eyes bouncing back and forth between them, like he was watching a ping-pong match. She rubbed his head. Take care of him, buddy.

  As if Jet heard her silent plea, his tail thunked twice. Then he sprang to his feet in full doggie excitement mode when Greer reached for the door.

  “Natalie…” He paused, seemed to search for the right words. “I couldn’t have done what I did today, couldn’t have faced my brothers like that, without you by my side. Thank you.”

  Her throat tightened. “You’re welcome.”

  “When I get back, we should talk about us. I want there to be an us.”

  Oh, God, she was going to cry. Her chest was so tight each thundering beat of her heart felt as if it would crack it open. “I want that, too.”

  “Okay. Good.” He opened the door and Jet zoomed out into the hall, nearly dragging Greer off his feet. And he laughed. “Okay, we’re going!”

  She drew a full, shaking breath as she watched him and her dog disappear down the stairs. She’d been so afraid that when this was over, he’d wash his hands of her. Why would he want her around to remind him of the hell he’d been through these last few weeks? The heartbreak might have destroyed her, but she’d have dealt with it if it meant Greer would go on to live a happy, healthy life without her.

  But he was going to be okay. And he wanted “us.”

  She should make him breakfast. Knowing him, he probably hadn’t bothered with eating since she last feed him. But, crap, what did she even have to make? She used up all her eggs last time and hadn’t gone grocery shopping since.

  Maybe pancakes?

  Mind on her kitchen pantry, she started to shut the door when the sound of the elevator opening stopped her. People who lived in the building knew better than to use the elevator unless they really had to, so she waited a beat to see if Mrs. Chan needed help with anything. But it wasn’t Mrs. Chan, or Todd and Elena, the young couple with the six-month-old baby who lived next door to her.

  It was Eva Wilde, and she was in a hurry, each thunk of her boots on the thinly carpeted floor ringing with urgency. Spotting Natalie in the doorway, she faltered and almost dropped the folder she was carrying. Her dark hair spiked from a bun that was falling out and tension had carved lines into her forehead and around her pretty, lipstick-free mouth.

  “Natalie…” She fumbled, glanced around. “Is Greer around?”

  “He’ll be back soon. He took my dog for a walk. If you need to see him, we can go down to the park and—” She was already reaching to close the door behind her, but Eva stopped her.

  “No. It’s actually you I needed to see.”

  She froze. “Me? Why?”

  Eva wet her lips and handed over the folder. She hesitated before accepting it, terrified of the blue file folder for reasons she couldn’t begin to understand. “What is it?”

  Eva opened it for her. She saw what looked to be a copy of a police report. Eva pointed to a highlighted name and her heart hit the floor.

  Mathew Taggart.

  She slowly took the report, but none of the words around her brother’s name were making sense. “What…?”

  “This is the report filed by the first officer on scene when David and Meredith Wilde were murdered. Your brother was there, Natalie. He worked at the gas station and was the only other person there that night. He was considered a suspect in the murders. Technically he still is because they were never able to prove or disprove his involvement. All they know is he was there.”

  Dazed, she gazed up into the other woman’s worried eyes. “Have you told Cam about this yet?”

  Eva shook her head. “I came here first, but I’m not going to keep this from my husband or his brothers. I just wanted to give you a heads up before I said anything to them. This isn’t good, Natalie. They’re not going to take it well. Greer…won’t take it well.”

  She stared down at the report, but her hands were shaking too hard to read the words. “He said he wanted there to be an us,” she whispered, more to herself than Eva. Tears blurred her vision and two
escaped to run down her cheeks and splatter on the paper. She didn’t bother brushing them away.

  Eva set a hand on her shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”

  No. This couldn’t be right. Before the drugs, her brother had been a good kid. A solid high B student, who loved music and sports and didn’t mind his little sister tagging along with him and his friends. He’d only lost himself after he became addicted…

  Her gaze finally focused and she searched for the date of the report. October 10, 1994. Mathew had been sixteen. She didn’t remember anything specific happening that day—she’d only been eight—but that was right around the time her brother began to change. He’d grown sullen and impatient with her when he never had been in the past. Early the following year, barely six months after the murders, he’d been arrested for the first time for buying heroin.

  Oh, God. She had to talk to her parents.

  Chapter Twenty

  She had to drive by the burned out husk of the Wilde family home to get to her parents’ house. It made her sick, and by the time she pulled into the driveway behind Mom’s Camry, her stomach was churning. She glanced over at the folder on the seat beside her.

  They couldn’t know. There was no way her parents knew. They were good, law-abiding people, and if they thought their son had killed two people, they would have turned him in. Unless they thought he was innocent.

  Would they have sheltered him then?

  They had always made excuses about his bad behavior and drug use. “He’ll grow out of it,” and “he just hasn’t found his way yet,” were two of their favorite lines.

  Gulping down a surge of sickness, she grabbed the folder and shoved open her door.

  Holly Taggart was already opening the front door, brows drawn together. “Tally, honey, are you okay?”

  She shoved the folder at her mother’s chest. “Did you know about this?”

  Holly caught the folder before it crashed to the porch and her eyes narrowed. “Excuse me? Know about what?”

  “Who is it?” Carl Taggart came to the door behind her mother. Dad always looked exactly like what he was—a college literature professor—and today was no exception. He wore corduroy pants that bagged on his thin frame and a wrinkled button-up under an ugly sweater vest, which was his favorite. Next to Mom’s tidy slacks, pressed blouse, and perfectly coifed hair, he looked as if he’d just rolled out of bed.

  “Tally?” he said, glancing back and forth between his wife and daughter. “What’s going on? Are we scheduled for brunch today?”

  Dad was scatterbrained and too mild-mannered to be the disciplinarian in their household. It was Mom who ruled this roost, so she ignored Carl and focused on Holly. “Did you know the police think Mathew killed two people?”

  Holly’s face lost all color, and she dropped the folder, scattering the police report. Natalie didn’t know how it was possible, but her face turned an even whiter shade of pale upon seeing the documents. Carl’s eyes bugged behind his thick glasses, and he made a choking sound as if he swallowed his tongue.

  “H-how did you find out about this?” Holly stuttered.

  “The hard way.” She bent to pick up the report, held up the first page and pointed to the names of the victims. “I’m seeing—was seeing,” she corrected because with the way this conversation was going, it was looking more and more like the cops’ suspicions were correct. “I was seeing the son of this couple.”

  For a split second, her mother’s eyes lit with interest. “You’re dating someone?” But that spark immediately fizzled out. “You’re dating…one of the Wilde boys?” She pressed a hand to her chest, smoothed it down over the front of her blouse. “Oh.”

  They know who the Wildes are.

  Natalie squeezed her eyes shut as a wave of horror washed over her. She swayed a little on her feet and thought for a moment she was going to toss her cookies all over her mother’s shiny, three-hundred-dollar ballet flats.

  They. Know. The Wilde family.

  “Oh my God, Mom. Dad. How could you?”

  Holly reached for her. “Honey, come inside.”

  “No!” Horrified, she backed away. These weren’t the parents she knew and loved. “How could you excuse this?”

  “He’s our son,” Holly said firmly. “Your brother. It doesn’t matter what he did or didn’t do. We don’t know the specifics, and it doesn’t matter. It’s our job as his parents to protect him.”

  “We’d have done the same for you,” Carl said, his eyes glistening. “Family is—”

  “Everything?” she repeated the line she’d heard over and over again while growing up and thrust the police report at them. “What about their family? Five young boys were orphaned.”

  “And they’ve been provided for,” Holly said primly.

  “What?” She hadn’t thought she could be more horrified, but nope, she was wrong. “You sent them money? As if a few bucks makes up for them losing their parents?”

  “Natalie Leanne Taggart,” Holly snapped. “That’s enough. We’re done talking about this.”

  “Oh, no. We’re not even close to done. Where is Mathew? And, come to think of it, Andy. You’re protecting him, too, aren’t you?”

  Carl stepped forward. “Now Andy didn’t do anything.”

  “He beat up on an injured man!”

  Carl’s lips thinned. “He thought he was protecting his father.”

  How could they be so callous? So cold? “Where are they?” she demanded. “If you don’t tell me, I’ll go to the police and tell them everything I know.”

  “Tally…” Her mother’s voice lost its authoritative edge and became pleading. “Don’t do this.”

  With tears streaming from her eyes, she straightened her shoulders and squared off in front of her parents. “Where are they?”

  …

  Greer sat in Natalie’s apartment, waiting, his ears still ringing from the impact of Eva’s news.

  Natalie’s brother was the only suspect the police ever had. So, after everything, it was only a random act of violence. A sixteen-year-old kid had taken out his father, had shot his mother, and left her to bleed out on the pavement, while he stole their car.

  Jesus.

  A mortar round had just exploded through his life for the second time in less than a month. The first had killed his friend. The second…

  His future.

  All of it slipped away before his eyes. That pretty picture of him and Natalie together… Fantasy. Nothing more. Nothing that could ever be.

  It didn’t matter. He didn’t need a future. He’d had it right from the start. All he needed was revenge.

  The front door opened, and Jet jumped up to greet Natalie as she appeared in the hallway. When she spotted him on the couch, she hesitated, the dog dancing happily around her legs.

  “Where did you go?” Holy shit, was that his voice? It sounded so…hollow. Dead.

  She set her keys down on the kitchen counter. “I was trying to find out the truth.”

  He shoved out of his seat. “The truth is your brother killed my parents.”

  “We don’t know that for sure. All we know is he was there that night.”

  He snapped up the copy of the police report Eva had given him. “I read the damn report. They dragged him in for questioning multiple times, but they had to let him walk because he wouldn’t say a goddamn thing.”

  She said nothing in response, but tears glistened on her cheeks. Even through his anger, the urge to go to her and brush away those tears was nearly overpowering. Which just pissed him off all the more.

  “Where is he, Natalie?”

  She rolled her lips together, shook her head. “What will you do if I tell you?”

  “You know damn well what I’m going to do!”

  She blinked and more tears cascaded from her eyes. “Then I won’t tell you. What he did was so wrong—but killing him won’t bring them back. It won’t make any of this hurt any less.”

  “What the fuck do you know about pain?”
he demanded and watched anger flare in her. She straightened her shoulders and walked toward him like she wasn’t half his size. She shoved his shoulder surprisingly hard, and he had to back up a step to keep his balance.

  “What do I know about pain?” she parroted back, fury making her voice higher than usual. Her tears flowed freely now. “I lost my family today, as surely as if they had died. My parents have been lying for Mathew, enabling him, all of these years. I had to force his location out of them, and my dad—my sweet, mild-mannered, English professor dad disowned me. This is destroying my family and ripping my heart in two. I’ve been falling in love with you a little at a time since I first moved in next door. Every time you grunted a hello at me, I fell a little harder. And when you showed up on my doorstep, bleeding, all I wanted was to help you slay this demon of yours. But your demon is my brother. My family. So don’t you dare act like you’re the only one hurting here. I’m being pulled in two fucking directions, and until I talk to Mathew and find out the whole truth, I’m not going to let either you or my parents bully me to choose a side.”

  Greer opened his mouth but found he had nothing to say in response. On the floor at his feet, Jet whimpered. The poor dog looked frightened, and honestly, he couldn’t blame him. Natalie was feral right now, her teeth clenched, her eyes showing too much white. She shoved him again and kept shoving him until his back hit the edge of the still-open door.

  “Leave,” she commanded.

  He backed up a step before the slamming door hit him in the face. For one hot moment, his temper boiled over and red hazed his vision.

  I’ve been falling in love with you a little at a time since I first moved in next door…

  And like that, his temper cooled. It didn’t disappear, still simmered underneath his skin, but his anger had shifted away from her. He didn’t know who or what he was angry at—the universe, maybe, for its fucking twisted sense of humor—but it wasn’t Natalie.

  I’m being pulled in two fucking directions…

  She was right. She was in an impossible situation.

  Christ. He rubbed his hands over his head and locked them behind his neck as he stared at her door. He was tired. So fucking tired of fighting. With her. With his brothers. With himself. Hadn’t he already fought more battles than any one man should have to? When would it end?