The Wells Brothers: Aaron

by Angela Verdenius

  A grunt, a thud, the sound of a brief struggle then silence. The third man had disappeared. Fleetingly Marietta appeared, dropped out of sight as another shot fired.

  Oh God. Oh God, don’t panic, Shea! Don’t scream. Aaron’s coming. He is, he’s coming. He’ll be here soon and this will all end.

  The powerful torch beam swept the room. “I’ve got another gun, Shea’s friend. More than enough bullets for you and this home wrecker.”

  Crawling on hands and knees, Shea shifted further back into the protection of the crates, frantically looking for a way out. Worried sick about Marietta.

  Wishing with all her heart that Aaron was there.

  That Aaron would come soon.

  Knowing he’d come, praying for him, having faith in him.

  Silence fell in the shed as she crouched low, trying to calm her breathing, trying to think of a way to help Marietta without being a hindrance.

  A sound, Phillip firing again, and knowing it was at Marietta, Shea leaped to her feet and screamed, “Here! Here!”

  Phillip swung around, the beam flashed over her and she threw herself to the side as he raised the gun.

  Marietta appeared behind him, swung the baton, only to be knocked aside as the fourth man suddenly lunged upward from seemingly nowhere. The one with the broken fingers staggered forward, dropping onto her as she went down, all three of them rolling across the floor, the sounds of fists and grunting, the savage growls reminding Shea of a couple of dogs fighting.

  How in God’s name could Marietta continue fighting against two men? The shadows made it so hard to see, all she could hear was the frightening sounds of the brawl. But if Marietta was still fighting, she was holding her own.

  She had to help her, but how? God, how? How?

  “I’m coming for you, Shea.” Phillip started striding forward. “I’m coming for you. You’re going to pay, bitch, I’m going to make you bleed, make you hurt so bloody bad, and then I’m going to watch as my friends take their turns with you.”

  Shaking, Shea desperately felt around seeking a weapon of some kind, any kind, her fingers closing around something.

  And she froze. A hand! Oh Christ, she’d grabbed onto a hand!

  She started to leap up, a scream forming, only to have a hand clamp around her mouth, an arm around her waist, and she was dragged back to the floor, a heavy body pinning her down. Struggling, she tried to bite the hand and buck the man off, but he pressed her flatter onto the floor, his heavy bulk holding her down, one gloved hand clamped across her mouth.

  The gun fired again, a hole appearing in the box not far off, a cloud of something coming out the other side.

  Whoever held her covered her with his body, one brawny arm curling around her head as he tucked her beneath him more securely.

  All she managed was to glance upwards, her eyes widening as the glow from Phillip’s powerful torch beam managed to filter through the gap in the crates to reveal parts of her assailant.

  A black ski mask of some kind obscured his face from his eyes down and eyebrows up, but there was no denying the narrowed eyes that looked down at her, dark in the dimness until he turned his head slightly as he glanced through the cracks and the flickers of the torch beam picked out the pale irises. At the same time that familiar scent hit her - soap, clean male. All Aaron.

  Oh Jesus, Aaron’s here.

  He was really here. Covering her body, protecting her.

  Unbidden her eyes filled with tears.

  Darkness covered his face again, the paleness of his eyes vanishing as he held one finger to his lips.

  She nodded and he slowly lifted his other hand from her mouth. For several long seconds he looked at her before pressing his ski-covered mouth to her forehead and then, with a fluidity that awed her, he pushed easily into a crouch above her and melted into the darkness.

  Trembling, heart pounding with adrenaline, relief warred with terror but now she knew it was almost finished, that everything would be okay, that Aaron was here and he’d take care of it all.

  Slowly, carefully, she rolled onto her stomach, came up onto her knees and glanced up, trying to see.

  What…? She frowned, peered hard. The ceiling…was that…were those stars suddenly blocked out by a dark shape?

  Then suddenly everything happened at once.

  A figure came down through the hole in the ceiling at the same time both doors slammed open, shouts filling the room, lights bobbing around, the sound of heavy boots on the floor.

  “Get on the ground! Get down on the ground!”

  “Now! Down!”

  Male voices shouting orders, a female voice joining in.

  Phillip screamed in rage.

  “Put the gun down!” Aaron’s roar was almost deafening, shattering through the shed, resounding off the walls. “On your knees!”

  “Last warning!” Ryan snarled.

  “I’ll kill her! I’ll kill her! I’ll ki-” Two simultaneous shots rang, cutting off the words, plunging the room into a split second of silence before Phillip started screaming for a whole other reason.

  There was a rush of controlled movement, heavy boots treading with quick, controlled thuds.

  “Man down!”

  “Hands behind your back. Behind your back!”

  “Move! Move move move!”

  “On your knees!”

  Sirens cut through the night, blue and red lights flashing against the walls.

  Shea stood up slowly, her gaze taking everything in as light flared on in the shed bringing everything into sharp focus.

  Black clad figures moved around, Phillip lying on the ground cursing in pain as blood came from his shoulder and his forearm. No mercy was shown, however, his arms cuffed behind his back while another man knelt down with blood trickling down the side of his face, his wrists already secured. A third unconscious man was being dragged from the shadows. The fourth man was huddled on the floor, swaying, no mercy shown as his ruined hand was grabbed and forced behind his back, the handcuffs slapping down with a menacing click.

  Two men stood over the prisoners and she knew instantly one was Aaron, his tall, broad-shouldered figure intimidating in dark navy cargo pants and dark navy long-sleeved shirt beneath a bullet-proof jacket, black boots on his feet. He was placing a gun into the holster strapped to his thigh.

  Though every man and woman there was dressed the same, there was no denying the man standing next to Aaron was Ryan, a gun in his hand pointed at the floor, his cold eyes scanning over her clinically, searching for injury with an experienced gaze.

  Dimly she realised that both of them had been the ones to shoot Phillip.

  Aaron said something to Ryan then turned, his eyes locking onto Shea. Vaguely she was aware of police entering, a couple of paramedics. She didn’t care, not when the man she loved, the man who had sworn to protect her and came to her rescue, was striding towards her.

  Coming out from behind the crate she ran for him, meeting him halfway, his arms closing around her, lifting her up to crush her fiercely against him.

  “I knew you’d come, Aaron.” Arms around his neck, tears of relief escaped. “I knew you’d come.”

  “I’ll always come.” His voice was deep, comforting.

  His ski mask was rough against her cheek as he pressed them together, his steady breathing seeping into her, making her unconsciously adapt her breathing to his until her own were no longer ragged.

  She held on to him, relaxing against his strength, and as her hammering heart steadied a little her gaze over his broad shoulder focussed on the Wells Security team as they moved back, allowing the police and paramedics to take over.

  “Marietta! Where is Marietta?”

  “She’s fine.” He gave her one last fierce hug before sliding her down his body until she stood on her feet while still holding her close. “Richie’s got her in the ambulance.”

  “Oh my God, is she-”

  “She’s got a few bruises and cuts but the paramedics are taking her
to the hospital for a check-up and clearance.” Arm around her shoulders, he pulled her against his side, steering her towards the door. “And that’s where you’re going.”

  “What? No, I don’t need to, I’m fine.”

  “You’ve had a shock. You’re going.”

  “Aaron, really, it was Marietta who fought, not me.”

  “Shea. You’re going.”

  So she found herself in an ambulance with Marietta.

  After a last long look into Shea’s eyes, a gentle caress of her cheek, Aaron switched his attention to Marietta reclining back on the stretcher. Split lip, blackening eye, shirt torn, scrapes on her cheek and arms, one finger splinted to another. She was holding one cold pack to her mouth, another on her eye.

  “Thank you,” he said sincerely.

  She lifted the cold pack from her split lip and managed to say without drooling, “Just doing my job, boss.”

  “Shea’s not just a job.” His voice held an unaccustomed huskiness. “From the bottom of my heart, thank you.”

  Marietta flushed, pleased, then her face brightened. “Does this mean I don’t have to read the harassment policy anymore?”

  Aaron shook his head, his eyes crinkling at the corners. Unexpectedly, he leaned forward and pulled her into a careful hug. “No, you have to read it.”

  “Well, shit.” Disappointed, she gingerly returned the cold pack to her lip.

  “But I think I can talk Ryan into letting it go just this once.”

  “Aw, thanks, boss.”

  Turning to Shea, he reached out, ran his gloved thumb under her bottom lip, his voice deepening as he gazed steadily at her, all his love for her in his eyes making the warmth seep into her chilled body. Making her feel so cherished. “I love you, Shea.”

  Marietta pretended an interest in studying the paramedic who was waiting near the door. He grinned at her. She winked back with her good eye.

  Shea didn’t care, laying her hand over his gloved one. “Love you, too.”

  “Okay, let’s get this show on the road.” The paramedic jumped in beside Shea.

  Aaron stepped back, nodded, and the doors shutting cut him from sight.

  Shea turned to Marietta. “Thank you. You saved my life.”

  Marietta shrugged. “Part of the job.”

  “You took out one man, fought two more at the same time. I’ll never forget it.” She embraced Marietta, mindful of the bruises and scratches. “If there’s anything I can do, anything at all-”

  “Well, you know, if you really want to thank me, you’ll see if you can get Ryan off my case.”

  Shea grinned. “I don’t think that’ll work.”

  “Ah well, worth a try.” Marietta winked at the paramedic.

  His grin widened. “So, rough night, huh?”

  “Not as rough as some of my nights get. If you know what I mean.”

  “I think I do.” He winked back. “Busy next Tuesday night?”

  “No. What did you have in mind?”

  “Dinner.”

  Shea could only shake her head as Marietta flirted with the paramedic.

  Looking out the back window at the industrial area disappearing in the distance, she knew that for Marietta it had been a job but Shea would never forget the woman’s bravery, the dedication in keeping Shea safe. Nor the bravery of the Wells Security as they’d crashed into a dangerous situation to save her and Marietta. Nor Aaron, as he’d covered her body with his, protecting her without any hesitation from any stray bullets.

  One thing was for sure, she’d never again take for granted the men and women who put their lives on the line to keep people safe. Now she knew a bit of what Aaron and his team faced, she was kind of glad she didn’t know the rest. This was bad enough, if she knew more it might give her nightmares.

  But she’d support him. He was damned good at his job, a born protector. Yeah, she thought, she could be there for him, would be there for him, whether he needed a listening ear, comfortable silence, a simple cuddle, or to lose himself in pleasure with her to forget what he might have had to do, or ordered someone else to do. Just as he was there for her no matter what.

  With a small smile, she looked down at her hands.

  And he’d be coming for her soon.

  ~*~

  It was late but the necessary reports that couldn’t wait were done.

  Leaning back in the chair, Aaron gazed at the computer screen. The noise in the team’s office had gradually tapered off as they’d finished their reports, logged them into the database and finally gone home. The only ones in the building now were he and the night shift upstairs in Control Centre manning the surveillance cameras and the shift workers out in the field.

  Linking his fingers, he rested his elbows on the desk and his chin on his hands, closing his eyes, going deep inside himself, searching for the quiet place where he could just drift, his fears for Shea’s safety quietening, burying deep.

  He had no idea if his team knew but he worried about them all, concerned for their safety when they were out in the field, keeping close contact no matter where in the world they worked. Knowing Marietta was with Shea had been a relief, the woman was good, ex-military, tough and funny. When he’d seen her bruised and bleeding his gut had clenched, his anger at the men who’d done it firing through his veins even though he knew it was a risk of the job. He’d be forever grateful to her for keeping his beloved safe until he could get there.

  His beloved Shea.

  Jesus, he’d been eaten with fear, only his training and Ryan’s deadly silence by his side keeping him sane enough to snap out orders, direct what he could, take control. Gearing up, he’d contacted Edward, filled him in even as Marietta’s voice over the communication device in his ear had informed them of exactly what was happening, the GPS tracker in Shea’s pocket and on Marietta’s wrist watch leading them to the shed in the industrial area.

  Hearing those shots cracking through the communicator as the van raced towards the industrial area had dread coursing through him, and for one fleeting second he’d almost lost concentration, his fear for Shea surging through him.

  In the driver’s seat of the van carrying the team, he’d felt Ryan look at him as he inwardly battled the fear, raked for the concentration he needed to get them all there swiftly and safely. He’d glanced sideways to meet that steady, cold gaze, seen the death riding in the man’s eyes, felt the undercurrent of ice cold control, the same kind of control he normally had, and it steadied him, snapped him back to command mode.

  Ryan had nodded slightly before turning his gaze back to the road whipping past under the van. The man understood him as no one else ever could, understood his darker side, understood what he’d done and why, accepted him without question. True, Aaron was deadly, but Ryan was a lot deadlier on a whole other level. Aaron had no idea of his darkest secrets though he had them, but he was the closest thing he had to a best friend.

  Even though Ryan hardly ever came around to share a beer or talked much. He just was, appearing and disappearing as the job and time warranted.

  Taking a deep breath, Aaron started to centre himself, allowing his thoughts to drift, touching here and there, working through his emotions that he’d shoved deep down to deal with when everything that could be done was completed. The time was now.

  He’d always done his very best for his clients, gave them the best he had, did the tough jobs himself at times. But his team, they were different. His team was like an extended part of his family, a different part, a team of men and women with varying skills that was far flung, plentiful and dangerous, reliable, who risked their lives for their clients, for the job, loyal to him, and Aaron never forgot it.

  And Shea…

  His heart actually skipped a beat and he frowned, concentrated harder, eased up almost immediately knowing force didn’t bequeath centring. Okay, his heart had never skipped before when drifting through the centring process but he acknowledged it because Shea was also different.

  His swee
t little Shea, her face so pale, her eyes huge, the hope, the happiness, the complete faith she had in him when she’d thrown herself into his arms. The words that still echoed in his head. I knew you’d come.

  He’d go through the fires of hell for her. Not even the Devil himself would stand in his way.

  She belonged in his arms, safe, protected, happy.

  It was time to pick her up, bring her home.

  Time to check on Cole, his beloved’s young brother and by the laws of his own internal code now his younger brother to protect and love as he did his blood family.

  Letting out his breath in a long, slow, calm exhale, he opened his eyes and got to his feet, retrieving the car keys out of the top drawer where he’d dropped them earlier that evening.

  As he came around the desk he heard voices in the outer office, recognised Ben’s. His presence meant that Cole was also there.

  As soon as the team had arrived at the office, Aaron had collected Ben from where he kept watch on the house and informed Cole of what had happened, assured him Shea was fine and he’d take him to the A & E to pick her up when the hospital cleared her and Marietta. Cole had been pale, worried, but he’d trusted in Aaron and agreed to wait, contenting himself with phoning the hospital and being put through to his sister to talk.

  Obviously Cole had had enough of waiting in his house with Ben.

  Aaron moved towards the door just as Cole appeared. He took one look at the boy’s strained face and knew. “I’ll take it from here, Ben.”

  “Okay. Goodnight.”

  “Goodnight.”

  Ben left.

  Cole met Aaron’s gaze, lifted his chin. “I just…”

  Aaron waited.

  “I just wanted…” Cole’s voice trembled.

  Aaron’s eyes softened.

  “I just wanted to thank you,” Cole finally managed thickly.

  Aaron opened his arms and the boy rushed into them. Boy, youth, teenager, on the cusp of manhood but needing someone right then to cling to.

  Aaron held him while he cried, didn’t shush him, didn’t try to stop him. Just held him as Cole cried. When he finally stopped Aaron didn’t try to hold on, let him step back and compose himself in his own time. Waited patiently, understanding the fear, the worry, the need to release bottled up emotions.