Cabin 1

by Amanda McKinney

  A picture dropped and shattered on the floor.

  His grip released, his hands softly cupping my face, kissing, kissing, kissing, until what seemed like only seconds later, he pulled away.

  My eyes didn’t immediately open. I didn’t want them to. I wanted to stay in that moment for the rest of my life. My breath was fast, my heartbeat faster.

  I finally opened my eyes, to meet his, his chest rising and falling just as heavily as my own.

  “Apologize,” I demanded in a breathless whisper.

  “No shot in hell,” he whispered back, like he was about to devour every inch of me.

  I stepped forward. Calmly, coolly, the opposite of the storm that was—is—Gage Steele. Closing in the inches between us, I pushed up to my tiptoes, grabbed a fistful of his shirt and kissed him again. Softly. Slowly. He didn’t move, didn’t touch, just kissed me back.

  My tongue explored his mouth, then ran along his lower lip.

  “Apologize,” I whispered against his lips. I could feel his heart beating through his chest.

  “No.” He huskily whispered back.

  I didn’t move, simply angled my face so that my lips touched the corner of his mouth, the tip of my nose against his check.

  “Apologize,” I repeated.

  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  13

  Gage

  What. The fuck. Was that?

  I blinked, because that was the only thing that seemed to be working at that exact moment, aside from the raging boner in my pants.

  I struggled to think of the last time I’d apologized to anyone. Especially a woman. I’m sure there were a few here and there—slip-ups, I mean. And by slip-ups, I mean apologies. I never apologized. People dealt with me, with us—my brothers—or they didn’t. And if they didn’t, well, they could leave. Go straight to hell.

  When Niki Avery told me she was going to leave—and she had every reason and right to—it was as if my body took over my brain in a desperate attempt to keep her close. True to form, I didn’t think, didn’t consider the consequences, just took action. An action that ended up being the best fucking kiss I’d ever had in my life, along with the most ball-busting—correction ball-removing—moment of my life.

  She’d demanded that I apologize to her.

  And… I did.

  Jesus. Christ. I did.

  My eyes shifted toward the floor, looking at the metaphorical armor this woman had single-handedly stripped from me with one flick of her tongue. I willed myself to step back. I couldn’t. Instead, I looked into those deep brown eyes, sparkling with passion… and victory.

  And goddammit if the only thing I wanted to do was scoop her up and take her to bed and screw her brains out, making her little victory that much sweeter. For both of us.

  Little victory. She knew it was much more than that. The woman knew exactly what had just happened, while, me? All I knew was that I felt like I’d been bent over and taken it up the ass.

  Fuck me, I liked it.

  The truth was, I had to test her. I had to know for myself that this woman wasn’t lying. That she wasn’t her dad. I got my answer, I just didn’t expect to be neutered in the process.

  She didn’t thank me for apologizing, no that wasn’t this woman’s style. Instead, she stepped away from me, sauntered back to the kitchen, grabbed her drink, and downed it in one sip.

  I was officially in love.

  “Now,” she said, leaning against the counter, her voice stronger, more confident—as she should be. “Let’s figure out who the hell is trying to kill me.”

  Well, that was a task I was much better equipped to handle than the one that had just happened, so I crossed the room, grabbed my own drink and leaned against the counter in front of her.

  “First,” I said, biting back the words ‘assuming you are telling the truth now’, because we all knew how that was going to turn out. “We start from the beginning of the night. You’re sure you didn’t notice anyone at the yoga retreat looking at you more than usual, perhaps someone who kept grabbing your attention?”

  “Yes, I’m sure.”

  “What about someone that stood out to you? Your gut instinct, your sixth sense pulling you to him. A little red flag.”

  “I’m positive. Like I told Haddix, it was mostly women, and the men…” she shook her head. “They weren’t built like the two guys who attacked me. Those were big guys. Big, drunk guys. Even the skinnier one was bulky. Fit.”

  “Big, drunk guys don’t usually attend yoga?”

  She grinned. “No. Not every male has to be drunk to agree to go to a yoga class, Gage.”

  I smirked. “Okay, so then it had to be someone who either followed you, or knew you were going. Think, Niki.”

  “I’m telling you, no one knew I was going.”

  “No friends, nothing?”

  “No.”

  “Why?”

  “Why, what?”

  “Why is that? No friends?”

  She shifted her weight and looked down. A sensitive subject. Perhaps more painful than what happened that evening.

  “I… ah…” she stammered, then blew out a breath and yanked her shoulders back. A fuck-you in response to her moment of weakness. A little tick that was quickly becoming one of my favorite things about her. I poured her another finger of whiskey.

  “I know that you know I wasn’t popular in school, to say the least,” she said. “In those situations, you’re forced to rely only on yourself. Become your own best friend. I had to learn at a very early age to accept things I couldn’t control. Like bullies. I hardened myself to it. I guess that carried over into adulthood. Shaped me. And that’s fine. That’s who I am. It is what it is.”

  It is what it is.

  She tilted her head to the side. “You know, I might ask the same thing about you. Rumor is you and your brothers never leave this place, and when you do its only to hit the bar, together.”

  “So?”

  “So, right back at you—why no friends?”

  “You’re an only sibling, right?”

  “Stop deflecting, and yes.”

  This girl had spunk. I loved it. “Well, Ax and I are only two minutes apart, Gunner, two years older, and Phoenix, three. We’re all close in age.”

  “That’s not the only reason.”

  I cocked a brow. “Are you analyzing me, Miss Avery?”

  “Oh, we don’t have all night.”

  I laughed at this.

  “No, being close in age is not the only reason you all are so close, so exclusive.”

  I sipped, contemplating my answer. “We joined the military together.”

  “Go on…”

  I sipped again, a damn big gulp, and cleared my throat. “Listen, you grew up without much, I grew up with a lot. And whether you believe it or not, there’s a certain amount of seclusion that comes with both. Not many people understand it… it makes you different. Feel different, anyway. Your assessment of me, Niki, is off. Way off. I do care about others, and I do care about my clients, I’m just not great at showing it. I know that.” Another sip. “My brothers and I have spent fifteen years fighting next to each other, taking care of each other. Killing for each other. Only those who lived it understand it. Period. It’s a bond, an unbreakable bond like nothing else in this world.”

  “The things you’ve done, together, it’s hardened you. Tainted you.”

  Yes, it had. I knew it had. All of us.

  “There’s a lot of evil in this world. Tonight, you saw some of that. Niki, I’ve seen more than that, tenfold. Life is… fragile. Temporary. If you get too attached to something… to anything… to someone…” I cleared my throat again and looked down. Uncomfortable didn’t begin to describe what I was feeling at that moment. I never opened up. To anyone.

  Ever.

  I glanced out the window at the house in the distance, still glowing with life despite the fact that it was pushing four in the morning. It always was that way. We never slept.

/>   “And,” I exhaled, clearing that conversation. “The company is a lot of work.”

  She slowly nodded, staring at me, those midnight eyes piercing into my soul. “I’m sorry about your dad.”

  I raised the bottle and took a sip. A heavy moment passed.

  “So,” she said, her voice cheery, lighthearted, and for that, I was thankful. “The infamous Steele brothers, loners and lovers, then.”

  A smile crossed my lips, a nonverbal thank-you for changing the subject.

  She dipped her chin in acknowledgement. Not twelve hours did I know that woman and we were already tuned into each other’s nonverbal. Wasn’t sure if that made me uncomfortable or not.

  I set the bottle down. “Loners and lovers, huh? Is that the word on the street?”

  “Oh, yeah. You guys are legendary for one-night stands.”

  “Not a lot of complications.” I tested her.

  “… Easy marks.” She sipped, watching me over the rim. “No hard work involved, just a few well-timed glances and thinly veiled attempts to avoid any kind of serious conversation. Don’t let her get too close.”

  “That’s right.” I squared my shoulders and delivered the true test. “Is that something you can handle, Niki?”

  Her eyes squeezed into a thin line. “No shot in hell.”

  The words lingered in the air like a lead weight.

  Like a challenge.

  We stared at each other, the electricity all but exploding around us. She sipped again, a small droplet of whiskey sliding down her chin, sending the blood funneling between my legs. It took every bit of restraint I had not to throw the drink across the floor, toss her onto the counter and spear into her with the force of an electromagnetic railgun.

  Her eyes twinkled, knowing exactly what she was doing to me.

  She looked away, focusing on the window. “Anyway, back to the subject at hand. There’s a chance I was followed, I guess, although I’d certainly like to think I’d notice.”

  I took a silent breath, trying to cool my thoughts and focus on the real issue here—that someone was trying to kill Niki Avery, not the missile in my pants.

  “Most people don’t notice when they’re being followed, trust me.”

  “You do a lot of following, Gage?”

  “Only for something I want.”

  “Good to know,” she grinned then continued, “So, let’s assume I was followed to the retreat. The guys waited until it was over, then started following me…”

  “They took side roads which is why you didn’t notice.”

  “Side roads? Around here?

  “Yep. This leads me to believe it has to be someone local. So, I’m going to go back to my initial question in the beginning of this whole thing. Can you think of anyone, anyone who’d want to hurt you?”

  She puffed out a breath and began pacing the room. “I’m telling you, I lead a boring life. No friends, no drama.”

  “No boyfriends, right?”

  Her gaze leveled mine. “That’s right.”

  “Girlfriends?” I grinned and this was met with the world’s most dramatic eye roll.

  She blew out a breath. “I know how this stuff goes. It’s a long road. I’ve worked countless cases involving assault. Nasty cases.”

  “Think about those, then. Our firm has handled security cases where lawyers were threatened during a high profile case. They’re sitting ducks for it.”

  Her brows tipped up. “Hadn’t even considered that. Good thinking…” She ran her fingers through her hair. I found myself gawking as the silky brown fell down her back.

  “God, Gage, I’ve tried dozens of cases…”

  “We need to pull together a list and go through them one by one.”

  She nodded. “I wish I had my damn laptop. I’ve got everything on my work computer at my house. Can you take me now?”

  “I’ll have Ax get it first thing in the morning. I don’t want you going anywhere that you’d be expected.”

  “My house keys—”

  “Are in your Jeep. He’ll get them. In the meantime, are there any cases that stick out to you? Think back… anyone the same size, same build as your attackers? Anything with Ian Lee?”

  “Nothing with Ian.” Her face pulled in concentration. “And, no, not that I can think of, right now, anyway. Those files will jog my memory.” Her frown deepened. “Whoever it was went to great lengths to scare me. I mean, to decapitate a man and put his head outside my window…”

  “I don’t think it was only to scare you, Niki.”

  “What do you mean?”

  I let a moment slide by, wondering if she’d come to the same conclusion I had.

  She did.

  “Wait.” Her mouth dropped. “You think it was a message?”

  “I do. I think this is personal, and I think it was a threat. I think your attacker thinks you saw him, or recognized him perhaps, or there’s some sort of connection that he thinks you’re going to put together. I think that’s why he came back for you.”

  She began pacing. “But, why the head? I mean, why not something else from the scene… anything else. Why Ian’s head?”

  “Did any of the cases you worked involve someone losing a head?” I asked, almost sarcastically.

  The blood drained from her face. “Oh my… God… The last case I worked… His name was Mickey Greco. He was arrested for tax fraud and multiple perjury charges. His trial lasted for weeks.” She covered her mouth with her hand. “Oh, my God, Gage…”

  “Stop, take a deep breath.” I pushed away from the counter as she inhaled, then exhaled. “Now, talk. Tell me about him.”

  She nodded, spinning a bit less. “He was a typical white collar stock broker who owned his own financial management firm, but behind the scenes, he was one of the biggest heroin dealers in the state, using his client’s funds when he needed it. He was a bad guy, Gage. Rumor was, if you owed him money, he’d go after you, your family, the whole nine yards. Anyway, a few of his firm’s clients had gone to the police when their funds had mysteriously run out. I worked with them trying to build a case, for months. The issue was, Mickey was a saint on the surface, squeaky clean. The cops couldn’t get anything on him…” Her eyes darkened. “Until his business partner, a woman by the name of Sheila Cancio, was found raped, brutally tortured… and decapitated in her vacation home in Florida.” She swallowed the knot in her throat. “His clients think she’d uncovered his drug operation and threatened to go to the cops. She fled to Florida, but couldn’t escape him.”

  Her voice trailed off and she blinked, the realization like a sledgehammer, to both of us. My hands balled to fists as her eyes met mine. Yes, that could have been her. She knew it and I knew it.

  She continued, her voice shaky now. “The ME said Sheila was alive for almost all of the attack. She was kept alive for hours, slowly tortured to death.” Niki looked down. “She wasn’t found for three days.”

  “Was he charged for her murder?”

  “No. No, that’s the thing. Guy had solid alibis. Multiple alibis, and was even on camera at several places around town during the few days of her presumed death.”

  “He had someone else do it.” She nodded, and I spoke her thoughts. “The same guy who came after you.”

  “Possibly, yes.”

  “So what did Mickey get put away for?”

  “You know the story of Al Capone? Cops could never pin him for murder. They got him for tax evasion. You see, after that happened, one of his clients who owed him money came to me.”

  “Name?”

  “David Campos. The police offered him immunity to tell us what he knew. In his testimony, he claimed Mickey broke his fingers with a hammer, one by one, promising worse to come if he didn’t get paid. The guy had medical records to back it up, along with a paper trail leading us right to a money laundering operation within Greco’s company. That witness was the nail in the coffin, so to speak.”

  “And that witness came to you. And it’s safe to s
ay Greco wouldn’t have been locked away if not for your witness’s testimony, correct?”

  She slowly nodded.

  “Niki, when was Mickey officially sentenced?”

  “… Three days ago.”

  14

  Gage

  I awoke swinging, my fist making contact with something shiny and light. Something familiar.

  A beer can.

  “Morning, sunshine.”

  I blinked, a beam of early morning sunlight piercing my retinas like a nuclear laser beam. Squinting, I shifted back into the shadows and sat up on Niki’s porch swing. An orchestra of birds chirped around me, reminding me of the headache I’d gone to sleep with... two hours earlier. It was a cool, crisp fall morning, the light breeze scented with a hint of burned leaves. The sun was barely peeking over the mountains, dawn not yet reaching the shaded woods around me. A cloudless sky promised a clear day ahead. I sure as hell hoped so.

  With a shit-eating grin, Ax juggled another beer can, ready to launch another attack.

  “Bastard,” I grumbled, stretching my arms over my head, my back popping in places I didn’t even know existed.

  “First time a woman kicked you out?” Ax stepped onto the deck of Cabin 1 and walked over to the porch swing—my makeshift bed for the evening. “I think I’m liking this Niki Avery already.”

  “What time is it?”

  “Six-twenty-nine.”

  “God, why the hell do you have so much energy in the mornings?” I rolled my neck in a feeble attempt to untangle the knots. “She didn’t kick me out. I voluntarily slept out here.” I glanced over my shoulder into the cabin, still shrouded in darkness, thankful she was still sleeping. That was good. She needed sleep.

  “Probably for the best, anyway. Feen would have your hide if you slept with her. You didn’t sleep with her, did you?”

  “Can we please hold off on the Spanish-fucking-inquisition until I get some coffee?”

  Ax folded his arms over his chest.

  I rolled my eyes. “No. Okay? We didn’t sleep together. What are you, a fourth generation deacon in the Baptist church? Who the hell says sleep together anymore?” I raised up a finger. “No, I’ll tell you who. A guy who needs to get laid, that’s who.”