by Paige Tyler
That was actually true. When she worked personal security details with the other members of her DCO team, she mostly let her instincts lead the way. Of course, Travis couldn’t know that, which was why she didn’t stick her tongue out at him.
“Very funny.” Eden reached behind the seat and pulled out her purse, opening it up to dig out the small frame Glock 9mm she’d carried with her since starting at the DCO. “I don’t need a plan. I’m simply going to politely ask him to leave Brandon and my sister completely out of any beef he has with Tim.”
“And if he isn’t interested in chatting?” Travis asked.
She smiled. “I’m sure I’ll have no problem convincing him to talk. I can be very persuasive.”
Travis chuckled. “I have no doubt.”
Eden glanced at the bar again. She was guessing the people going in and out must be involved with the betting operation, but she didn’t know enough about how the criminal enterprise worked to say in what capacity. Hopefully, they were just runners or something like that. If she was lucky, most of them would bail the second things started getting tense.
If not, this could be an interesting morning.
Eden handed Travis her weapon. He immediately dropped the clip, then checked for a round in the chamber. His hands moved so fast and efficiently she could barely follow them as he slid the clip in and tucked the weapon behind his back.
“What about you?” he asked.
She held up her right hand and let a single long, curved claw extend from her index finger. “I’m good.”
Eden wasn’t sure what to expect when they walked into the sports bar, but no one paid any attention to them at first. Probably because everyone assumed she and Travis were there to grab an early lunch. But when they stopped and scanned the bar, the tone in the room abruptly changed. Every one of the guys who’d been casually leaning back in their chairs watching baseball sat up straighter, eyeing her and Travis suspiciously. The only person who wasn’t looking their way was a big guy in a loud Hawaiian-style shirt sitting in a booth near in the back watching five different TVs at once.
“We’re closed,” an older man behind the bar said.
Eden ignored him. Instead, she walked toward the guy in the Hawaiian shirt. “Mr. Spillane, we’re here to chat about a common acquaintance, Tim Ainsley.”
She hadn’t gone more than a half dozen steps before three big, muscle-bound goons, slipped out of one of the closer booths and blocked her path. Two had dark curly hair while the third was blond, and they all had tattoos their arms. She looked past them to their boss.
“We’re just here to talk, Sammy. This doesn’t have to get nasty.”
The blond stepped closer. “I’ll show you nasty, you stupid—”
Eden imagined the man was probably going to call her something rude, but he never got the chance because Travis stepped in front of her and punched the guy straight in the jaw. As a trained combat killer, Travis clearly had a lot of practice punching people. The hulking bodyguard flew back into the booth where he’d been sitting earlier, unconscious and definitely not going to be getting up anytime soon.
Silence reined over the bar for a fraction of a second before it erupted into absolute bedlam. Stools crashed to the floor and tables got shoved aside as four other guys all came rushing in their direction. Okay, this was not the way Eden hoped the meeting would go. She had no doubt that after this was over, Travis was going to look her square in the eyes and say, I told you so.
She threw a quick glance in his direction, not sure how he was going to handle this. He was a soldier, and when threatened, it was normal for a soldier to pull a weapon and start shooting. She really didn’t want that happen. If it did, they’d be spending the rest of the day and night trying to explain to the local police what the hell had happened.
But Travis didn’t pull out the handgun she’d given him. Instead, he turned to face the oncoming tide of new arrivals with an almost lazy grin. Like getting in a brawl with a bunch of lowlifes was the most amusing thing in the world to him.
She prayed he knew what the heck he was doing because the other two big goons were moving in her direction and they looked really pissed.
The first one to reach her took a swing. Apparently he hadn’t gotten the memo about it being wrong for men to hit women. It wasn’t like she was going to let him land a blow, but it was the principle of the thing. Couldn’t he have the decency to at least hesitate for a second?
Eden ducked under the massive fist coming her way, then stepped around the guy and delivered a mule kick into the center of his back. The look on his friend’s face when the guy hit the floor as if he had actually been kicked by a mule and not by a woman who looked like she couldn’t hurt a fly was priceless.
The second guy must have realized she was faster and more dangerous than she looked because he didn’t to take a swing at her. Instead, he bull rushed her, figuring he could overwhelm her with his greater size.
She stood her ground, then just as the big guy spread his arms wide like he was going to tackle her, she sidestepped to the left and brought her right fist up and rammed it into his solar plexus. The breath exploded out of him and his knees immediately sagged. Eden caught him before he collapsed to the floor, spinning him around in a circle and tossing him across the room.
It wasn’t until then that she realized she’d thrown the guy right into the middle of the brawl between Travis and four other men on the far side of the room.
* * * * *
Travis almost laughed as he ducked the punch aimed at his face. He hadn’t had this much fun in years, not since that big barroom brawl in a nightclub in Germany a few years ago.
The man throwing the punch was committed, Travis had to give him that. He obviously hoped to end this fight with a single blow, but fortunately, the man’s abilities didn’t match his enthusiasm. When he missed, the force of the swing overbalanced him and he stumbled forward a little. That left him completely open to a counter, and Travis laid him out with a heavy fist to the side of the jaw. The man fell heavily to the floor, not out cold, but probably not in the mood to get up anytime soon. Since Travis had already headbutted one of the men into unconsciousness in the first five seconds of the fight, that meant two down, two to go.
But the other two men must have realized they might be in over their heads because neither one seemed interested in taking him on next. That was a good thing. Unless one of them decided they didn’t feel like being a punching bags anymore and pulled out a weapon, of course. Then things were going to get nasty fast. Travis knew these guys weren’t angels, but that didn’t mean he wanted to kill them. He wasn’t exactly sure if Eden’s position in the DHS—or the DCO—or whatever she’d tell the cops, would get him out of that.
Fortunately, neither lowlife reached for a weapon. Instead, they got smart and split up, trying to get into positions where they could come at him from two directions at once. Damn, these last two might actually be sharing a brain cell between them. The space among the tables and chairs was tight, but if they could actually get it right and hit him with a synchronized attack, they might cause some damage.
Travis risked a quick glance in Eden’s direction. It had only been thirty seconds at most since he punched the guy who’d been about to call her a bitch, and he wanted to make sure she was okay.
She was standing still and calm while a guy who must have outweighed her by more than a hundred pounds rushed her like a psychotic bull. It took everything in him not to say the hell with the two guys he was dealing with and leap to her rescue.
Travis didn’t do it, though, because he knew Eden could more than handle herself. It was still gut-wrenching to see her in danger. That was the biggest reason he’d agreed to drive up here to Norfolk with her. The idea of her doing something crazy on her own without him there to keep an eye on her made him feel physically ill.
He’d pegged Eden absolutely right, too. She was definitely the leap-first-and-look-later kind of person. He was okay with tha
t. He’d met hundreds of guys just like her in the special operations world. It simply meant he was going to have to keep close to Eden and make sure her aggressive nature didn’t get her into trouble.
Travis was just thinking about how the hell he was going to be able to do that, not just today and tomorrow, but all the days that came after that, when a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention.
He didn’t realize what the hell was coming his way until after he dived to the side and hit the floor. The guy who’d been trying to circle around behind him wasn’t as fast and ended up getting crushed under a two-hundred-pound flying human dodgeball.
Travis whipped his head around in Eden’s direction to see her turn and head toward the booth where Sammy was sitting. Damn, he guessed she was even stronger than he thought.
Then he saw Sammy’s arm move under the table. Shit, the bastard was going for a gun.
Travis jumped to his feet. He needed to deal with these guys and help Eden.
But the man she’d tossed across the room earlier wasn’t going anywhere, and the guy he’d landed on was lying on the floor groaning. The last lowlife must have decided he’d had enough because he turned and bailed, running for the door.
Travis spun around to see Eden approaching Sammy’s booth. His gut clenched as the bookie swung his right hand out from under the table, bringing a big revolver up in her direction.
Shit.
Travis bolted across the room, praying he’d reach her in time.
But Eden moved faster. Sammy’s eyes widened in shock as she covered the last ten feet in the time it probably took the bookie to take a single breath. She caught Sammy’s gun hand, easily disarming him. Even if she hadn’t been stronger than the bookie, it still wouldn’t have been that difficult. The man’s right hand was wrapped in thick gauze and he could barely keep a grip on the weapon as it was.
Eden slung the revolver across the room with a growl, bouncing it across the bar and into the big mirror on the far side. It cracked the mirror and fell to the floor behind the bar with a thud. The way the bartender’s eyes tracked the weapon as it fell had Travis pulling out the 9mm Eden had given him before they’d come in. He pointed the weapon at the bartender and shook his head.
“Just leave the gun on the floor and go take a break,” Travis said in a soft voice, motioning the man away with the tip of the Glock.
The bartender took a long look at the gun on the floor, then glanced at his boss before locking eyes with Travis. Whatever he saw apparently made up his mind because he lifted his hands in surrender and slipped out from behind the bar, then scurried for the door.
Travis turned around to see Sammy getting to his feet. Eden snarled and thumped him in the chest hard enough to knock the big man back into the booth.
Travis slid into the bench seat opposite the big bookie, keeping his gun trained on the man. “Like she said—we’re just here to talk.”
Sammy eyed Travis—or more precisely the 9mm in his hand. He must have finally figured out Eden was never going to let him get out of the booth because he gave up and sat back with a sigh.
Travis figured he and Eden only had a few minutes. This might be the type of place that didn’t like cops paying them a visit, but at some point, one of the people who’d hauled ass out of the sports bar would call the police.
“What the hell do you want to talk about?” Sammy demanded, his voice gruff from years of smoking cigars like the one on the table in front of him.
Eden joined Travis on his side of the booth, gracefully sliding in as if they were joining Sammy for lunch. Sammy wasn’t eyeing her like she was his usual customer, though. Then again, he had just seen her toss one of his big-ass bodyguards half way across the room.
Eden smiled sweetly at him. “Like I said before, Mr. Spillane, we’d like to ask you a few questions about Tim Ainsley.”
Sammy swore. “What the fuck is it with all you people wanting to talk about Tim lately?”
Eden exchanged looks with Travis before turning back to Sammy. “We’re not the first people to ask about him?”
“Hell, no. Some guy came in here about a week ago with a couple of his friends and told me he wanted to buy out Tim’s debt for ten cents on the dollar. When I told him to pound sand, the asshole did this.”
Sammy held up the bandage wrapped hand. Even with all the gauze, Travis could see the man’s pinkie finger on his right hand was missing.
“He cut off your finger?” Travis couldn’t believe he was shocked considering all the things he’d seen in the army, but damn.
“Cut it off?” Sammy snorted. “Hell, no. The damn freak had these long-ass claws for fingernails. He sliced into me, then reached out and ripped the fucking thing right off! Put it in his pocket and walked out with it when we were done, too, so I couldn’t even try to get it reattached. Fucking asshole.”
“What did this guy look like?” Eden asked.
“Six-five, long brown hair, scary looking psycho eyes. Growled a lot.”
Eden looked at Travis again. There couldn’t be many guys who looked like that running around Virginia Beach. It had to be the wolf shifter.
“At first I thought maybe Tim had hired this guy to come in and try to make his debt disappear, but then I heard Tim got his ass beat up by these same guys a couple days ago, so I’m guessing that’s wasn’t it.”
“Is it normal for people to come in and try to buy someone else’s gambling debt like that?” Eden asked.
“Never happened to me before,” Sammy muttered. “And the worst part was, I felt bad about having to turn over Tim’s tab. I’ve been his bookie since he was sixteen—he grew up around here. Tim might be a godawful gambler and was never going to be able to pay me back everything he owed, but he’s a good guy who made regular payments and was trying to get this gambling thing under control.”
Travis almost laughed. A bookie with a heart of gold? He wasn’t so sure he bought that one. “How much did Tim owe you?”
Sammy shrugged. “About a hundred grand, maybe a little more. I can’t tell you exactly because that asshole took the laptop I kept my books on along with my finger.”
Travis was floored. Beside him, Eden looked just as shocked. How the hell could Tim gamble himself so deeply into debt? “Any idea what this guy wanted with Tim’s tab?”
“No clue,” the bookie admitted. “It’s not like Tim could pay it all back at once. He’s about tapped out.”
“Any idea where this big guy and his friends hang out?” Eden asked.
Sammy’s eyes narrowed. “You two going after that asshole?” When Eden nodded, he smiled. “I heard they were staying in a duplex vacation rental on the beach. Ocean Front and 53rd.”
“You we’re pissed enough to track them down, but not go after them?” Travis asked.
Sammy shrugged. “I’m a business man. And I like my fingers. I figured if I made a move on these guys and failed, the psycho with the freaky fingernails would be back for my other pinkie and maybe a few more fingers. I put my money into better security and forgot the revenge.” He looked over at his guys lying on the floor. One or two of them were just starting to stir, but the rest weren’t even conscious yet. Sammy winced. “I guess I should have saved my money.”
Eden slipped out of the booth. Travis followed, holding the gun down at his side. He didn’t think Sammy would try anything, but he’d keep the weapon handy just in case.
“Thanks for the help,” Eden told Sammy.
The bookie didn’t say anything until Travis and Eden were halfway to the door.
“Hey! If you find that asshole, watch out for those fingernails of his,” Sammy said. “And if he still has my finger, I’ll pay you for it. I can’t get it reattached now, but I’m kind of sentimental about it.”
Beside Travis, Eden made a face.
“Gross,” she whispered as they walked out of the bar. “There is no way we’re bringing back his finger, even if we do find it.”
“I don’t
know,” Travis said as he opened the passenger door of his rental car for her. “How much do you think he’d pay?”
She made a face. “I don’t care. And if think you’re going to find his finger and bring it back here, you’re walking.”
Travis chuckled as he strode around the front of the car, then slid behind the wheel and started the engine. “How do we get to Ocean Front and 53rd?
* * * * *
She and Travis sat in his rental car several blocks down from the beachfront duplex, going over what they’d learned at the sports bar and trying to figure out why the wolf shifter and his buddies had bought Tim’s debt. As they talked, Eden kept an eye on the house. She hadn’t seen any movement inside or out since they’d gotten there about fifteen minutes ago, and was starting to think they were going to have get closer if they wanted to know for sure.
“You think it’s possible they bought the debt because they thought Tim has more money than he really does?” Travis asked.
She shrugged. “Crazier things have happened I guess. But it seems like an awfully complicated way to make money. Men as vicious as this wolf shifter could easily find a faster way to get cash, without pissing off one of the more powerful crime figures in the local area.”
“You’ve got a point there,” Travis agreed. “Okay, so what’s the plan this time? And if you say we’re just going to go walk in and chat with this psycho, I’m cranking the car and we’re leaving right now.”
Eden couldn’t help but smile. Travis was so cute when he was being protective. She didn’t think he would actually follow through with his threat if she told him that’s exactly what they were going to do, but it was nice knowing he worried about her.
It was hard to believe, but in some ways it felt like she worked better with him than she did with her team at the DCO. Not that she had a problem with any of her teammates. It was just that she really connected with Travis. She practically knew what he was going to do before he did it, like when he’d punched that guy in the face back at the sports bar and later draw his weapon on the bartender. It felt good having him watch her back, like he was her partner or something.
