Silken Threats

by Addison Fox

  “I’ll lay you odds they’re together,” Violet said.

  “Damn straight they are. They’ve been hiding something from the get-go.” Max shook his head and stopped. Tucker had known his friend for a long time—had trusted the man to watch his back through more ops than he could count—which made the indecision he saw layered on Max’s face that much more jarring.

  “What is it?”

  “I was going to give the old man the courtesy of a first look but now I don’t know.”

  They all stared at him, no one saying anything until Tucker broke the silence. “First look at what?”

  “This.”

  The room grew quiet and even Bailey was at full attention as Max dug into his back pocket. When he came up with a cloth-wrapped package, Tucker knew they were in trouble.

  And as Max unwrapped three enormous rubies, Tucker felt the bottom drop out of his stomach.

  * * *

  Max dragged his phone out one more time, then shoved it back into his shirt pocket on a loud harrumph. Jo knew how upset he was—how worried for his grandson and his friends—and she wondered yet again if she’d made the right choice.

  She had gone along with the charade to get the girls out of the building. Wanted them far gone when that evil man came for the jewels.

  But what if it still wasn’t enough?

  What if he decided to go after them anyway?

  Those cold green eyes still lived in her memory, flicking over her like she were nothing. Like the secret she’d spent her life protecting was simply there for the taking.

  How could she have been so stupid?

  They’d promised to take it to their graves. She and Max had sworn, all those years ago, yet she’d still failed. Through arrogance and some misbegotten sense of pride.

  “They’re in danger. And they don’t even know why.”

  “We can’t tell them.” Max shook his head, stubborn as ever when he got a bit between his teeth.

  “Why not? The secret’s out. Keeping it any longer won’t help them and it certainly won’t keep them safe.”

  “The box was stolen. That bastard has what he came for. Now we just need to wait and let things die down. We can’t tell, Jo.”

  She’d made the promise so long ago. Had sworn to her father she’d never share it, but what did it matter now? Those dark days were long gone and the need for secrecy—to keep a state secret for people who had long since stopped fighting for a cause—seemed pointless.

  “What will we gain by revealing something long buried? Your father wanted all evidence removed of his involvement. He made a promise and willingly upheld his duties.”

  “My father’s been gone for forty years. The war ended over sixty-five years ago. When does it stop mattering any longer?”

  “The location of the jewels has never been revealed, even to this day. The location of the copies shouldn’t, either. We promised.”

  The harsh light of the TV highlighted half of his face, leaving the rest in shadows. Even with the garish backwash of color, Josephine could still see the boy she fell in love with. The one she’d given her heart to so long ago.

  She’d trusted him then. Had always trusted him, even when life took them in opposite directions. Even when her heart had broken in two.

  Did she stop trusting him now?

  Did she have a choice?

  * * *

  The rich scent of lasagna wafted around them but no one paid any attention as they stood around Lilah’s kitchen table, three equally large jewels covering a small cotton cloth at the center.

  “Take us through it again, Max.” Tucker had already asked a few times, but Cassidy was grateful he asked again. The reality of what they had laid out before them was mind-boggling.

  “When I put the box in the van I had a feeling whoever shot at us wasn’t gone. The body was too convenient. So I opened it up to get a good look. Since everything was wrapped, I grabbed what I could fit in my pocket off the top and closed it back up.” He shrugged. “I know it’s not ideal, but I figured it would give us some sort of bargaining power if we needed it.”

  “Or get us all killed when whoever wants it figures out it’s gone.” Cassidy whispered the words, the images of her late brother-in-law filling her mind’s eye.

  This was what Charlie had involved himself with. Greed and avarice had been his downfall and it had gotten him killed.

  Gems and murder. It was like something out of the TV movies she, Lilah and Violet loved curling up with for an afternoon of bad woman-in-jeopardy television.

  Only it was real.

  Rock-solid, shiny, sparkling reality.

  And it lay on the scarred oak table that used to belong to Lilah Castle’s grandmother.

  “We have to talk to Mrs. B. about it,” Violet said, ever the voice of reason. “Then we need to give it to the detectives.”

  “Right. Which eliminates any bargaining chip we have.” Lilah’s wan, pale face was drawn up, her mouth in a straight line, and Cassidy knew what she was thinking. Knew the pain she still lived with.

  No matter how far her friend had come, she’d always live with the pain of her horrible first marriage. Would always carry that thin veneer of fear that she’d never truly be safe again.

  “The only way we stay safe is if we each take one and hide it. It’s the only way,” Lilah said.

  “Are you nuts?” Tucker’s voice exploded across the table. Although the words were in response to Lilah, his gaze was firmly planted on Cassidy. “You can’t make yourselves vulnerable like that. You need to get rid of those. Remove them and all traces they ever existed.”

  “No, Lilah’s right.” Max shook his head, all his normal bluster vanished in the stark light of his impulsive decision. “I took that choice away from them when I took these.”

  Violet lifted one, examined it under the light. “So we go public with them. Make a splash and show the world we’re turning them over. Whoever killed Charlie sees that and knows we’re not worth coming after.”

  “Unless he thinks you held a few back for yourselves.” Tucker crossed his arms, his earlier reticence back in full force. “There’s no way whoever got their hands on this knew a full count of what’s in the box. Hell, do we even know what these are? Where they’re from? How long they’ve been buried under the floor?”

  “We need to see Mrs. B. She and Max’s grandfather are at the center of this.” Cassidy knew the strange phone call from earlier coupled with Max’s lack of response from his grandfather basically confirmed their involvement. But still, they held out, keeping their own counsel. “They’re scared. They think they’re keeping us safe by keeping us in the dark.”

  “They’re wrong.” Tucker’s voice was flat.

  At the somber faces around the table, Cassidy knew the truth in Tucker’s words. But she also knew how unwilling Mrs. B. could be when she set her mind to something.

  The woman carried a secret—had lived with it most of her life, if Max Senior’s involvement was any indication—and she wasn’t ready to give it up.

  “I need to get to him. They’re vulnerable alone.”

  “No one goes anywhere by themselves or stays by themselves until we figure this out.” Tucker issued the order and in that moment, Cassidy had a flash of the solider he used to be.

  Strong. Forceful. Unyielding.

  She’d thought Max the unspoken team lead, but the respect in his gaze told another story. They were partners. They took care of each other and depended on each other.

  Just like she did with Lilah and Violet.

  They were a family. Not of blood, but of the heart. And those bonds were as unbreakable as steel.

  * * *

  Tucker whistled for Bailey at Lilah’s back door and watched the dog bound playfully over the small pa
tch of backyard. It wasn’t the larger space he had at his own home, but Bailey had proven himself highly adaptable the past few nights, going where he was told and keeping watch over his expanding human family.

  That’s what they were. Through some unspoken agreement, the five of them had managed to become a unit in an incredibly short period of time.

  Bonds forged in the fires of hell.

  He’d never been big on war stories. He’d always assumed the “war is hell” tales were a way of taking the horror, dusting it off and creating a more comforting story that gave that horror distance and meaning.

  How wrong he’d been.

  He felt like he’d lived a lifetime in the past week. From some of the most exquisite highs he’d ever experienced to the depths of shock at the depravity of his fellow humans.

  Bailey trotted past him, and he closed the door, flipping the locks.

  “You ready for me to set the alarm?” Lilah stood behind him in the kitchen, her blond pixie hair sticking up where she’d repeatedly run her fingers through it, twisting the strands.

  He’d watched her since Max had made his big reveal. He’d already sensed she hid something, but the sheer grit she employed as they talked through what to do with the jewels told a different story. “You doing okay?”

  “Yep.” She busied herself at a keypad near the back door. He’d seen its twin at the front. “And I’ll be even better in a minute.”

  She punched in a long code—that alone spoke volumes—before she gave a satisfied nod when the light flashed over to red.

  “That’s quite a system. I saw the perimeter cameras when I let Bailey out.”

  “A girl in the city can’t be too careful.”

  “No. I guess not.”

  When she said nothing else, Tucker knew that was his cue to drop it. Whatever she’d survived was her journey. Her battle.

  Yet something pressed him on.

  Maybe it was the oddly cathartic exposure of his own demons earlier. Or, a small voice whispered through his mind, it might just be the simple kindness of offering help to a friend in need.

  “I’m not going anywhere tonight.”

  “I know. Although—” she stopped, mischief twinkling in her brown eyes, chasing away the dark clouds “—I think your time’s about up to make a move on my best friend.”

  “It’s not like that.”

  “I sure hope it’s like that.”

  Before he could argue further—or suggest getting it on with her friend a floor below her was a bit of an obnoxious he-man move—she stepped up and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

  “We don’t get many chances for happiness. It’d be a real shame to waste one. Especially when you both need it so badly.”

  Lilah’s words were still rolling around his head a half hour later as he lay staring up at the ceiling. Her townhome was three stories and he had the first-floor guest room. Bailey snored gently at his side, his occasional whimpering and motions of running in place suggesting he was in a deep sleep.

  Lucky mutt.

  Tucker slammed a hand into his pillow, fluffing it up before crossing his arms behind his head. Visions of Cassidy, a few floors above him, filled his mind’s eye. He’d gotten a tour when they arrived, his architect’s nosy nature expecting no less, and he’d seen her bag in a guest room on the third floor.

  The urge to go to her kept beating at him, along with Lilah’s words of encouragement.

  And every time he shoved back the covers to go to her, his own beleaguered thoughts battered him with a round of arguments that had him lying back down again.

  Don’t take advantage of her.

  She’s in trouble. Only a complete jerk would try to get it on under the circumstances.

  Give her space.

  He’d rotated in a few other choice, expletive-filled comments in his mental battle, which was the only reason he could figure he didn’t hear the door slide open.

  “Hey.” Cassidy’s voice traveled the width of the room. “Are you up?”

  “I’m up.”

  The movement and sliver of light from the hallway was enough to pull Bailey from his dream-induced puppy adventures and he sat up, his body instantly alert. As soon as he realized it was Cassidy, he settled down, a happy little sigh echoing from his throat.

  First Lilah and now the dog?

  Tucker shook off the odd thought and motioned Cassidy in. “I’m awake. What’s the matter?”

  “I can’t sleep.”

  “It was a big day.”

  She moved closer to the bed, and his already tense body tightened painfully. An oversize gray T-shirt with the SMU logo emblazoned across her chest stopped midthigh, setting off her long, slender legs. That vibrant hair hung around her shoulders in curly waves and the urge to reach out and run his fingers through the silky strands nearly had him off the bed.

  Don’t take advantage.

  He wanted to curse his conscience to hell and back but still, he stayed where he was.

  “Tucker?” She moved against the bed, lifting one knee to lean against the mattress. He felt the light depression of her weight and nearly groaned at how close she was.

  At how easy it would be to reach out and touch her.

  “Cassidy.”

  “Why are you hiding in here?”

  “I’m not hiding.”

  “Then please don’t make me wait for you any longer.”

  Her smile was bright in the slivers of moonlight that shone through the slats of the blinds. That smile was warmth. It was invitation.

  And in that moment, he knew she welcomed him.

  He reached for her, dragging her until she sprawled against his chest, his lips trailing a path against her throat as his hands played around the hem of her T-shirt. His fingers brushed over the soft skin of her lower back and he inched the cotton up before she shifted, slipping along his body like quicksilver.

  Before he could stop her, she levered herself into a sitting position over his midsection and stared down at him. “This is for us. Let’s forget what’s outside and ignore what’s waiting. This is ours.”

  “Ours.”

  The word came out on a husky whisper before he pulled her full against him, his mouth hot on hers. She went willingly, a partner in their midnight discovery of each other’s secrets.

  * * *

  Tucker moved his fingers over the sensitive skin of her spine before drifting on a lazy path toward the sides of her breasts. She levered herself off his chest and reached for the hem of the T-shirt before his seeking hands stopped, gripping hers.

  “Let me.”

  Her eyes had adjusted to the dim light in the room and she could see the wide pupils in his dark eyes as he looked up at her. She reveled in that look—the one that made her feel like a goddess—and dropped the hem to give him free access.

  He lifted the material in one fell swoop, the neckline catching on her hair before he pulled it completely from her body. That dark, magnetic gaze never wavered but she watched, fascinated, as he clenched his jaw the moment his hands began to move over her skin.

  Here was a man in control.

  And in that instant, Cassidy acknowledged just how desperately she wanted to make him lose it.

  Sharp darts of pleasure radiated from her nerves everywhere he touched. Her skin was on fire with the joy of being with him. With the joy of being worshipped.

  He caressed her in lazy circles over her stomach as he worked his way, with exquisite slowness, to her breasts. By the time his hands covered the heavy globes, she pressed herself against him, whimpering as his fingers played over her aching nipples.

  “Tucker.”

  His voice was a lazy whisper as her head fell back, the simple joy of being touched filling her with wonder.

 
When his hand drifted away she opened her eyes, captivated by the wicked grin that reflected back at her. With one hand he supported her lower back while he maintained that exquisite contact with her breasts the other.

  And then he leaned forward, capturing her bare nipple between his teeth.

  A hard moan fell from her lips as the warm suction drew her in, deeper and deeper, against the sexy ministrations of his tongue.

  Over and over, he circled her body, the erotic heat driving her slowly mad. A hot, achy need centered in her core and she writhed against him, desperate for him to release the pent-up longing.

  As that ache expanded, filling her limbs with restless energy, she focused on returning the pleasure. With sinuous motions designed to torment, she slid against his body. The thin scrap of silk that still covered her core added another layer of torture against her heated body as she explored the perfection that was Tucker Buchanan.

  Long, ropey muscles corded his arms and shoulders, the latter thick and rounded and hard. As she traced a path along his chest, she gloried in the hard planes and angles, so firm to the touch.

  Eager to mimic the same pleasure he’d given, she ran her tongue over the heat of his chest before circling the tight skin of his nipple. He exhaled on a harsh intake of breath, the motion spurring her on as she drifted, lazy as a Sunday afternoon, to reward his other nipple.

  “You drive me crazy.”

  “Likewise, Ace.” She grinned up at him, the glorious pleasure suffusing her in generous waves. “I also happen to still have a few tricks up my sleeve.”

  “That’s funny. So do I.”

  He shifted, ready to capture her underneath him to continue the pleasure, but she beat him to the punch, her hand snaking quickly beneath the waistband of his briefs.

  Tucker stilled at her touch, another hard exhale escaping his lips as she tightened her grip. “Told you I had a few tricks.”

  “So you did.” He gritted his teeth and she watched—no, gloried—when his eyelids drooped to half-mast.

  And then she added a few more, stroking his body and pushing him through his paces as he pressed himself into her hand.