WYLDER

by Kristina Weaver

  That has them both stilling, and I see the moment when they understand that they’re going to be separated. Danny is spooked. I guess her calmness is only contingent on Lori, who seems to be the leader of this outfit.

  Lori herself just thins her lips and strives not to say a word. Good girl. Marco isn’t all that into talking or hysterical women, and I’d hate to have to watch him gag her, because that would set Danny off, and I don’t have the patience to deal with her brand of affection yet.

  Better remember to keep my sac out of firing distance.

  “But…I thought he’s your flunky.”

  Marco grunts at Danny’s insult, and I make a choked sound when he stiffens.

  “Don’t say a word, asshole,” he warns when I go to rub it in, my natural amusement coming to the fore.

  “Wouldn’t dream of it. He’s not my flunky or henchman, Danny. Marco is my brother,” I say calmly, enjoying the way she looks between us.

  No one would ever believe it, something that’s worked in our favor for years. Marco looks more like our father, his blond hair and green eyes heralding back to our dad, who was of Nordic descent, while I and my other three brothers look more like my half-Irish, half-Lakota mom. The coloring is all hers, dark and bronzed, but the eyes come from a grandmother who was as fair as an Irish lass could be.

  “Really?”

  “Yep. I know he’s an ugly bastard, but forgive him for it. My pop could only give him so much before the natural ugly came out.”

  “Fuck you. I’m hot,” Marco mutters, giving Lori a heated smile.

  The woman has no fear at all and just sniffs, pursing her lips, with an eye roll thrown in for good measure.

  “Please let us go.”

  God help me, I think when she tries again, her need for freedom making me feel like shit even though I know I’m saving her life right now. Do I feel better knowing this? Yes. It may be wrong, but I know that without me she’d be dead or begging for it by now.

  And besides, I was looking at her before this happened anyway, and I’d decided already that she’d be mine eventually. Sure, I’d have gone about it differently and done all that dating shit and soft lies all women want to hear, but I’d have gone for her.

  So, see, we’d have ended up here anyway.

  “No. You have to accept this and move on. I will give you a good life with everything you need, so you have nothing to fear, Danny, I promise you this.”

  “I want to go home!”

  “You are. We are,” I state calmly, keeping my eyes on hers, watching the grey and brown swirl together.

  “Who are you?” she asks suddenly, as if realizing she doesn’t know my name.

  The abruptness has me looking over at Marco in understanding. Ah, that would be the sedatives Marco laced their salads with working. What? You thought I was going to spend hours on a flight to New Orleans with two women plotting, semi on the verge of hysteria, and ready to stab me in the face?

  Not my scene, man.

  “My name is Bear Wylder, people call me Wild or B. This ugly fuck is my brother Wolf. We call him Marco in public just to piss him off and to throw the others.”

  Danny and Lori both blink as I talk, and I see her brow knit in confusion before she slumps back and glares.

  “You drugged us.”

  She’s out before I can answer, but I see Lori send Marco a death glare before she too slumps, the sedative knocking her on her ass.

  “Liar…”

  “Aw, come on, babe. It was inevitable. You want to kill me. I can’t have that,” Wolf says softly.

  “You…tasted…”

  “It was in the salad so you couldn’t taste it, and I only tried the meat.”

  “Bastard.” Her last gasp before she passes out is accompanied by a look so filthy I see Wolf shudder.

  “Christ, did we have to choose two of the most rabid women alive?”

  “Shut up, Wolf.”

  “You shut up! Just wait until one of them tries to kill us in our sleep. Did you see the way Lori was eyeing that knife, man? I’ma hafta sleep with one eye open before she falls for my ass,” he whines, shifting to stand and pull Lori into his arms.

  Wolf is huge, like a Viking, as Dad always called him. He’s so big that me at six four, well, even I am missing a few inches on him. He disappears into the bedroom with Lori, and I sigh as I rise and slide my arms under Danny, pulling her firmly into my chest.

  Most guys with a hard-on for a woman would spout some poetic shit about her flowery smell. I can’t. The poor woman smells terrible, something I’m grateful she hasn’t picked up on yet because if I know Miss Hygiene, she’d start cutting people for the horror of smelling bad.

  Not that I blame her. People need to wash to smell good, and my poor little Danny hasn’t seen soap in at least two days. I’ll wash her myself once we get home and Wolf takes his woman to his own place.

  I have a few days to teach Danny how shit is gonna be before I need to get back to work and make sure my business associates don’t fuck everything up.

  “Her father is gonna come looking for her,” Wolf says as soon as we’ve got them settled on the bed and we retake our seats in the front.

  “Yeah, I know, but I’ve got something in the works to keep him busy for now, so just pray that he takes the bait and doesn’t come barreling in before shit gets done. I really don’t wanna hafta hurt my girl’s old man,” I mutter, accepting another drink and sighing tiredly.

  I haven’t slept in almost forty-eight hours, and I see a few more hours of exhaustion ahead of me as it is.

  “Dude, you know about Bright. The man is a fucking force when he’s pissed. You remember…?”

  “I do, which is why I had Lyon go back to ransack her place and leave an empty trail. Lynx is making sure Lori’s trail is covered, and Hawk is sitting on the Irish to keep tabs on their movements. I’ve covered it all as far as I can see.”

  Which isn’t to say that shit won’t happen, because it’s inevitable. I’ve been at this for years, been a powerful man to be reckoned with for so long that sometimes I forget what it was like to be a normal guy with dreams of suburban bliss—when I was like too young to shave.

  Now, I’m an organization with more fingers in pies than I have digits to cover. I know it all, plan for every eventuality, but life, man, that shit happens to everyone, no matter how prepared we are.

  I can see shit going bad. I just feel like no matter how much I’ve plotted, that something will go down. It’s bound to. All I can hope is that I can minimize the damage and keep everyone protected until I move things to where I need them to be.

  “It’s gonna go wrong somewhere. I can feel it.”

  “I know, which is why I want you at the Grace House. I need you next door, just far enough away for Lori and Danny not to be in cahoots but close enough in case someone pulls a double-cross.”

  Wolf snorts at that, and I laugh when he grimaces.

  “Fuck, Bear. Christ, you want me to go nuts, with Lori and Mom in the same house?”

  “Mom is cool, man. She and Dad know the score. Besides, just talk to Dad.”

  “That old fool. Jesus, he’s the meanest dick I know, and he’s still scared of Ma. He told me she’s got Lakota in her and she knows how to kill silently.” He shudders, getting a bark of mirth from me.

  “She’s too hot-tempered to be patient to kill silently.”

  “Dammit, you go to Grace House and let me take the plantation. Please.”

  “No. Fuck off. I am not living with that crazy old broad again.”

  This time it’s me shuddering because I had eighteen years of living with Mom to know I can never do it again. As it is, she lives right next door to me and still makes me nuts. The same roof would kill me. And I still have Danny to contend with.

  “See! This isn’t fair, man.”

  “As Scar said, life’s not fair, is it?”

  “You’re an asshole. And quoting the Lion King is pathetic.”

  “It’
s better than freaking Star Wars.”

  “Trek! And that bastard is just cool. And wise. He has a solution to every dilemma, if you’re smart enough to listen,” Wolf argues, flipping me off.

  “You’re a nerd. For a gangster hoodlum, you’re a total geek, you know that?” I laugh, the incongruity of my brother the deadly killer being such a freak making me chuckle.

  I sober fast though when he looks at me grimly.

  “You’re lucky they offered her to you, or she’d be in some Korean brothel in the city having the hell beat out of her feisty ass.”

  Like I don’t know! I may be the man I have to be to survive, but the thought of Danny being hurt makes me want to kill someone.

  “I know. I won’t forget it,” I say softly, his nod and look sinking into me.

  “We need to get this done, Bear. Being a crime family is one thing, but trafficking is not…”

  “We will. You just keep that woman you insisted on having out of my plans, and I’ll take care of the rest.”

  “She’ll love me.”

  “I wouldn’t hold my breath. She looked ready to rip your throat out with her teeth.” I chuckle, shivering at the memory of Danny’s glare.

  He snorts at that and crosses himself while looking towards the bedroom.

  “God help us.”

  Chapter Three

  Danny

  The next time I wake, I smile and snuggle into the warmth of my mattress, the foggy cobwebs of sleep still clinging as I shift and give a moan while I stretch my stiff legs.

  God, I probably missed my alarm again, from the way light peeks through my eyelids. I should get up and get ready for that damn test and call Dad. Definitely call Daddy, since I haven’t heard from him in two weeks.

  That’s weird because the man usually calls me every second day and demands updates about every detail of my life. The only thing he shies away from is my menstrual cycle, which is why I usually keep him very updated about my flow. Just for laughs.

  Stretching again, I rub my face into the pillow with a smile, only to freeze when the soft cotton I expect slides over my face in a way that is unfamiliar.

  Silk. I feel silk, or something close to it, and pop my eyes open immediately. The minute my eyes open to take in a huge room decorated lavishly in dark browns and blues, it all comes rushing back.

  Oh God.

  I’m staring around the room to take in details as it floors me anew. Me. Lori. Kidnapped. Those Wylder assholes talking as if we’re just supposed to accept being sex objects to mobsters.

  I take in the room itself, as my internal dialogue rages, and note the extravagance of the place. The color scheme is masculine, with the brown and blue, but the rest of it is just fabulous.

  A big four-poster bed draped in gauzy netting to ward off mosquitos. Polished wood floors with expensive rugs scattered around. A fireplace that I suspect is only for show, since it’s hot enough to boil lobster despite the air-conditioning, and a sitting area that looks comfortable and faces the television over the mantle.

  It’s all just…wow, I think as I push my legs over the side of the bed and stand slowly, steadying myself on legs that are a little weak. If I wasn’t so terrified and pissed off at the situation, I would be orgasming over the place, I mutter silently, ruefully.

  I love nice bedrooms, and this one is just…

  I shake myself, because focusing on the freaking room is not a good idea and all I want to do is case the place and find a way out. I get a minute into my review before the smell hits me and I realize I smell like a dead dog boiling on the tarmac.

  Good God.

  Snarling because, darn it, I hate being dirty, I stomp into the en suite bathroom and jump into the shower, excusing my lack of priorities by telling myself that if I get killed while escaping, I owe it to myself to go in a respectable, clean manner.

  I wash my hair once, rinse, and repeat before slicking on conditioner and letting it sit. The sponge I soap up isn’t new, but I can’t bring myself to be scrupulous about it, because the moment it touches my body, I moan at the delight of being clean.

  I smell sandalwood and something citrusy as I wash, realizing too late that I know this smell and don’t want it anywhere near me. Dammit.

  “I think I am in love with your ass.”

  I shriek, in the process of washing between my legs, and almost fall when my foot slips out, before righting myself. Bear Wylder is lounging against the sink, hands in the pockets of his grey slacks, his pose indolent as he watches me through heavy-lidded eyes.

  “Get out.”

  I’m half-contorted as I strive to keep my body hidden, and I see his lips twist at the action. Okay, so I get that I shouldn’t be modest after what he’s seen and I should just pretend no shame, but the man is…agh!

  How can I look at Bear Wylder, the man who sees me as his sex slave, an object, and feel…things? I mean…

  I cannot be attracted to a man like him, even if his hair is like melted chocolate and his eyes are two dark blue diamonds and—

  Stop that!

  “Can’t, I need to shower. Wanna share?” he drawls, taking a step closer while I back up, shaking my head frantically.

  He starts pulling at his clothes, removing his watch and shoes, dropping it all as he stalks closer.

  He doesn’t stop, and I thank my stars the conditioner has washed out as he walks in. I jump out, grabbing a towel on the way and grit my teeth at his laughter.

  “I take that as a no? That’s okay, Danny baby, You’re right. Our first time together should be in a bed where I can make you scream, not screwing like animals in the shower. We can save that for later.”

  Fear hits me, along with outrage, and I run from the steamy bathroom, my hand grabbing at the bedroom door. I know it’s locked before I even touch it, but panic has engulfed me, and I’m almost panting as I twist and pull, tears and sobs of frustration making everything blur in front of me.

  I need to get out of here. I need to get out and run before that man, that monster, touches me and does things to me that would be…

  What if he hurts me? What if that seemingly soft and gentle tone is nothing but a ruse? And Jesus, I can’t forget that he’s a freaking criminal, a man who thinks he owns me.

  I don’t even know him! I can’t sleep with some guy I don’t know, but then…what if he won’t take no for an answer? My mind rails, making me go crazy before I abandon the door and rush for the windows.

  I expect one of those porches that I see in the movies, the ones that wrap around and extend to the top story, but instead, my heart plummets when I look out only to realize that we’re not on the first floor but the uppermost floor, the roof I hadn’t looked at curving down in a triangular lean.

  We’re high, high up enough that I could die jumping, so high I feel my stomach lurch at the thought of getting down from here. The sight of greenery and gardens, the ground so far away, has me lurching and swaying, the panic attack hitting me hard enough to send me to my knees.

  I’ve never felt this before, but I’ve heard about them, and man oh man, I feel like I’m gonna have a heart attack. It’s painful and disorienting, and I can’t breathe.

  It’s so bad I get light-headed and almost face-plant into the floorboards before big hands wrap around me and drag me into a hard, muscular chest.

  “Breathe! Breathe, Danny.”

  I know it’s Wylder shaking me and yelling at me as I go limp in his arms, the urge to pass out so great it comes as a shock when I land on the bed and his mouth shoves over mine, pumping hot coffee-scented breath into my lungs.

  The force makes me choke and sputter, but I manage to exhale and suck in a lungful of oxygen, stunned by the taste of his mouth. Wylder just pulls away, laying my fears to rest when he springs from the bed and pulls on shorts before ripping the towel from my body, pushing on a clean robe, and pulling me up.

  I come out of it with him drying my hair, and blush at the weakness I just showed. Daddy would be mortified and em
barrassed by my behavior, the skills he taught me all lost beneath the flight response I could no longer suppress.

  “It’s natural. I get that you’re scared, and I understand why you freaked out, but you have to chill out, woman. You are not leaving this room until you accept that you’re here to stay. Just make this shit easier on us all and let it sink in that you are never going home again.”

  He finishes drying my hair and goes to grab a comb, my eyes going straight to the way his shorts pull tight across an ass that is drool-worthy. If I didn’t want to stab him in the throat with an ice pick, I would so totally check him out.

  The thought makes me grin, and I watch him watch me suspiciously as he slowly stalks my way.

  “You have no right to keep me here. Let me go.”

  “No.”

  “My dad will protect me. If you let me go, I give you my word I won’t tell a soul about you. You haven’t hurt me, so if I go, I would consider you a good guy and only implicate those men who took me,” I promise, apologizing to Jesus for the blatant lie.

  Wylder snorts, and I stiffen when he starts to comb my hair slowly, gently detangling the mass of golden, copper strands.

  “Your father can’t protect you from these people, Danny, and you know it. They’d just kill him first and then come after you, and trust me, you’d be lucky if they take you out and walk away. If not, you’re looking at years in a brothel being raped and beaten by men every day. You’ll pray to die.”

  Chills skate down my spine at those words, and I try to control the shivers that hit me. I want to cry anew. How can I not when I know his words to be true?

  I may not know much about these kinds of people, but I am not stupid, and I get that they’ll take me out to cover their tracks. And Daddy? My father is a badass Navy guy with moves like you wouldn’t believe for a guy in his early fifties, but he is not superman, and he will die.

  I can’t even contemplate a world without my dad in it, and I know that I would never do anything to put him in danger.

  But does that mean that I just hang around here all day for the rest of my life and just pretend to make the best of the situation? I can’t! I am not a sex slave, and I won’t just submit to this guy, no matter how good-looking he is or how nice he’s pretending to be.