Hard Run (Delta Force Brotherhood)

by Sheryl Nantus

  “Is a recording of the drug deal going to be enough?”

  “Not by itself. What we need for a solid case is solid evidence. And that’s only going to happen if I get my feet dirty.” Finn drew a deep breath. “I’ll have to infiltrate the gang. Get them to hire me on as a driver and run a mission for them. Then we’ll have enough evidence and testimony to put all of them away.”

  “It’s too dangerous.” She shook her head.

  “Skye.” He moved into her personal space, leaning forward. “Dylan might have forgotten to tell you the small print about coming to the Brotherhood. We don’t stop once we’ve started.” He was close enough to kiss, the temptation driving her mad. “We’ve come too far to stop now, Skye.”

  “You’re crazy.” She blinked, trying to wrap her mind around what he was saying. “You’re totally insane.”

  “I’ve been told that before.” Finn laughed. “To get the job done, sometimes you have to go where no one else dares.” He reached out and took her hand, the simple gesture raising goose bumps on her skin. “There’s a long line of dead bodies and destroyed lives in Smith’s wake, and they deserve justice.”

  She knew he was right.

  She still didn’t like it.

  Finn continued. “I wouldn’t pull you into this if I didn’t need your help. If I had my way, I’d send you to Vegas with the Watleys and transfer Robby to another hospital.”

  “But you can’t. And you won’t. Because if you do it will warn the gang something’s going on. I’m not going to leave Robby. And I won’t leave you.”

  The charged words hung in the air between them.

  After a moment, Finn stood up. “I’ve got some planning to do, and you’ve got a night shift to prepare for.”

  Skye mentally slapped herself and glanced at the clock. She didn’t have much time left before she was due at the real estate office.

  Finn smiled. “We’ve both got a long day ahead of us tomorrow. Go to work—I’m going to make sure my suspicions are right about the Rest ‘n’ Relax, and then hit the bar. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  He turned and walked into the living room, picking up his leather jacket before heading for the door.

  She grabbed the bottle and poured the last of the wine into her glass before draining it.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Skye checked the parking lot before settling her car into its usual spot. There was no sign of Finn.

  The cleaning job had been calming to her scattered mind, kept busy by the simple task of emptying trash baskets and making sure the staff kitchen was clean and tidy. It was nice to work alone in the silence, a drastic difference from the non-stop rush and noise at the diner.

  She leaned back in her seat, feeling exhaustion creeping up on her. She’d slipped in a late-night visit to the hospital, bringing Ace a box of donuts for him to share with Wyatt.

  Robby showed no signs of improvement. She’d chatted with him as usual, telling him how her day went.

  She didn’t mention the Watleys.

  Not long afterward, she’d thanked Ace and left, her mind numb. Her route took her past a bar, the noise and music washing over her before she could turn the corner. It wasn’t the Broken Spoke, but it might well have been.

  Images flashed in her mind’s eye. The bikers, drinking and partying, grabbing any woman walking by who was unlucky enough to draw their attention and too terrified to refuse it. The smell of cigarettes and cheap beer, the same that oozed from Finn’s clothing every night when he came back to the apartment.

  The laughter. Men joking after destroying people’s lives with the white death they sold on the streets, killing and crippling families like hers. Like Finn’s.

  She gripped the steering wheel, remembering how Robby looked in the hospital. It wasn’t hard to imagine Finn’s mother, broken and dying in an identical room, an identical bed.

  And now there was a chance, an excellent chance, that Finn could be hurt or killed by Smith. The Brotherhood might be good, but he was still only one man.

  She might not be able to stop Finn from pursuing this line of action, but she sure as hell could be ready if something went wrong, if the Brotherhood’s plans went sideways.

  Finn had been right about one thing.

  She had to keep moving.

  And that included being ready to take revenge if the opportunity presented itself.

  Being armed would be a good start.

  Applying for a gun license would take days. Buying an illegal gun would be hard, if not impossible.

  Finn was here.

  She hadn’t seen a pistol, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t in his duffel bag, ready to be used.

  By her, if she had her way—on Mick Smith.

  There was only one way to find out.

  Skye got out of the car and rushed to her apartment. She opened the front door and walked toward Robby’s room.

  She hadn’t been inside since that first frantic search over a week ago, digging around for clues as to how he’d ended up nearly dying in an alleyway.

  Now it was Finn’s space. His duffel bag lay on the floor by the bed, partially unzipped.

  Skye rooted inside, pushing dark socks to one side. If he had a pistol, it would likely be at the bottom, maybe wedged between the briefs and…

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  The stern voice froze her in place, her heart racing as she immediately identified the source.

  Finn.

  …

  Skye’s Jeep was already in the parking lot when Finn pulled in. He parked beside it, glad to see she was home.

  He hadn’t thought anything about walking in to find the living room and kitchen empty. Skye must have gone straight to bed.

  Good, he told himself as he stripped off his leather jacket and hung it up on one of the wooden pegs. The woman was a distraction, and he had work to do. It was hard enough to sleep on the single bed knowing she was only a few steps away.

  He headed for his room, rolling various ideas for taking the gang down around in his mind. It had to be a careful operation, keeping civilians out of the line of fire—he doubted Smith would have any problems killing innocents…

  He stopped in the doorway, seeing Skye rummaging deep in his duffel.

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  She turned and faced him, leaving the bag open.

  “What are you doing?” Finn repeated.

  Pink spread over her cheeks. “Looking for a gun.”

  “What?” He blinked.

  “I need protection.” She was breathless, her words coming out in a rush. “I thought you might have a gun I could borrow.”

  “You thought I…what? What?” He sputtered, grabbing at the words. “You wanted to borrow a gun? What, like a library book?” He shook his head. “You don’t need one. It takes training, and it takes practice to know how to use it. We don’t have the time to do that, and I won’t let you put yourself in danger.”

  “You won’t let me?” She pulled back, crossing her arms. “You do know I can go to a gun range and pay for lessons. Hell, I can drive to Vegas—they’ve got gun shops open twenty-four hours a day.”

  “With what money?” he snarled. “Not with what I gave you. You’re not using it to buy a gun or learn how to use it. You want to do that, you use your own cash.”

  Her eyes widened.

  He realized his mistake the second the words left his mouth, and immediately tried to backtrack. “Look, I just…” He rubbed his palms on his jeans. “It’s not about the money. It’s about keeping you safe. The last thing I need to be worried about is you running around with a weapon.”

  “You don’t think I can’t handle it?” Her voice rose.

  He raised his hands. “I’m afraid of you finding yourself in a bad situation and depending on a gun to get out.” He touched his hip, fingers curling around an imaginary pistol grip. “If you have a gun, you’ll use it. If you don’t, you think of other ways to deal with a situation. That�
��s why I don’t carry all the time—I can’t shoot someone every time I get in trouble.”

  She glared at him. “I’ve dealt with jerks who try to grab my ass at work, and I’ve walked to my car with my keys in my hand at midnight, worried about the drunks in the parking lot. But this is different. They might kill Robby or me.” She reached out and poked him in the chest, hard. “I need more than some sharp keys now.”

  “Robby has Wyatt and Ace. You’ve got me,” Finn snapped, his patience at an end. “But you don’t want a gun just for self-defense, do you? You’re dying to take a shot at Smith.” He gritted his teeth. “Don’t you trust me to do the right thing and take Smith down without killing him?”

  Her eyes locked him in place. “How can you think about trying to get them arrested after what happened to your mother? How many years did Rick serve before he got out? He’s probably still bragging about how he kicked your ass.”

  A vice grabbed onto his heart and squeezed it tight.

  Skye continued. “No matter what you do, how much evidence you have, it’s not going to stop them permanently. They’ll go to jail and bide their time. When Smith gets out, he’ll come right back to get Robby. There’s only one way to end this.” She pointed her right hand at the floor like a gun. “Smith’s got to die.”

  He took her hand and uncurled her fingers before putting it back up to his face, covering the scar. “I told you I let Rick cut me. I told you how I beat the hell out of him. I didn’t tell you the rest of the story.”

  Her hand burned his face, the gentle touch sending his heart soaring even as sadness poured out of him. “I said I let him go. He was on the ground, bloody and beaten. Then he laughed. Told me how I wasn’t a real man if I couldn’t finish the job.” The breath caught in his throat as Skye moved in closer, deeper into his personal space. “I wanted to. I knew how to. But I didn’t.”

  Finn leaned into her touch, drawing a deep breath. “Rick told me he was sorry about my mother, but she was weak. A sad, sorry meat sack of a woman who didn’t have the willpower to say no, and he was there for her when I wasn’t, giving her what she needed. He got up and ran out of the alley into the street. Right in front of a truck.” He drew a burning breath, forcing himself to continue. “He didn’t even make it to the hospital.”

  Skye let out a small gasp, barely enough to reach his ears.

  “The cops didn’t press charges. But my mother was still gone.”

  The pain flashed through him like a dagger, the memories still as sharp as jagged glass.

  “Every time I look in the mirror I see this.” He pointed at his face. “A reminder that sometimes getting what you want doesn’t fix everything. If Rick had lived, I would feel just as guilty for my mother’s addiction. I may not have killed him directly, but I sure as hell was partially responsible for his death, and that’ll hang on me until Judgment Day.”

  He looked at her straight-on. “If Robby never wakes up, if he dies tomorrow in that hospital bed, killing Mick Smith is not going to make you feel better. My mother died, and I couldn’t change that by killing Rick. I can’t let you kill Smith because I know it’ll hurt you, and I can’t stand by and let you do that to yourself.” The dam inside him burst, the words forcing their way out past his invisible wall. “You’ve become special to me, Skye. I can’t stop thinking about you—how you taste, how you smile, how I’d love to hear you moan. So don’t tell me I could walk away from this. Don’t think you can send me away or drive me out of town. Because I can’t stop until you’re safe. I won’t stop until you’re safe.” He fell silent, out of breath and out of words.

  Skye reached up and cupped his face in her hands, eyes bright with tears.

  “I want you,” she whispered, shattering the last of his resolve. “I. Want. You.”

  …

  Her anger and rage at Smith fizzled and burned out, the fire devouring itself as her heart soared. It was as if he’d reached inside her and touched her soul, his words about betrayal and death the exact opposite of what she’d ever expected to stir her heart.

  Skye exhaled as his arms went around her, pulling her close. Finn sat down on the bed with a grunt, pulling her to straddle him. His hands went to her waist and wrestled her T-shirt free from her jeans as she slid her fingers through his hair, deepening their kiss.

  Finn moved one hand to the back of her neck, holding her in place as he matched her passion and surpassed it, plundering her mouth with a need she’d never experienced before. It was as if the confession had freed the beast within, and the only thing that could sate his hunger was the taste and feel of her.

  Skye had no complaints about that.

  She yanked his shirt loose, marveling at the toned muscles under her touch. His kisses became less controlled and more frantic as he undid the front of her jeans and pressed his palm against her torso, thumb caressing delicate skin.

  “Ah.” Skye rose up on her knees as he slid his hand down, the simmering desire between her legs turning into a full-fledged inferno as his fingers moved between her damp folds. She let out a weak whimper, unable to find the words for anything else.

  It was as if they’d been lovers for years, rising and falling in perfect sync.

  “Oh, yeah,” Finn murmured as she moved her lips to the side of his throat, nipping at the taut skin.

  She worked on his jeans now, marveling at the rumbling groan vibrating through his skin as he increased his strokes, one finger now sliding down to tease her entrance.

  Skye wriggled, unable to hold back her enthusiasm.

  “I’d like to take you out to dinner,” Finn hoarsely whispered into her ear. “A candlelight meal, maybe some dancing and slow make-out sessions in the cab on the return trip. But right now, I have to have you.”

  “I’ll take an IOU on the dancing and dinner,” she shot back. “But not if you wait much longer.”

  Finn growled as his hand cupped her with almost perfect aim. He grabbed at her hair and pulled her head back to nip at her throat.

  The wildness in his eyes didn’t startle her. Instead it fueled her desire, her hips shifting and twisting to try and direct his fingers to where they needed to be, where she needed him the most.

  A rough laugh escaped as he yanked his hand free, surprising her.

  Finn grabbed her waist and pushed her to her feet so she stood in front of him. Without speaking, he went at her jeans and shoved them down around her ankles, her underwear following in another quick yank.

  Before she could say anything, Finn spun her around and seated her on the edge of the bed.

  Skye opened her mouth to laugh, but only a soft cry came out as Finn slid to his knees in front of her. He pressed his lips to her belly button before moving his mouth south, hands nudging her knees apart. He lifted each of her legs up onto his shoulders, laying down a trail of butterfly kisses as he moved toward his goal.

  The first stroke of his tongue had her hips rising off the thin mattress, Skye biting back a scream as the tension grew stronger and stronger with each passing second. Her hands dug into the soft blanket, bunching up the dark fabric.

  Finn’s hands gripped her ass and lifted her up to meet him as he continued to lick and nuzzle, backing off every few minutes to drop light kisses along the inside of her thighs, drawing out his calculated attack on her senses.

  Skye was going to die a happy woman.

  If he’d ever damn well get around to it.

  She tried to shift her hips, to encourage him to move, but his hold intensified, keeping her in place.

  “Feel free to scream,” the hoarse order came. “I want to hear you.” She felt him smile, his lips pressed against her. “This first time.”

  His right hand slid between her legs and into her, a single finger gently pumping in and out in a slow, lazy rhythm as he continued to stroke her with his tongue.

  She gasped as Finn increased the pace, adding a second finger as he unerringly found the tiny bud and drew it into his mouth, the deep sucking pulling her up and o
ut of herself with an ecstatic rush.

  Skye threw her head back and screamed as she came, her world whiting out.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Finn pulled Skye into his lap. He licked his lips as he sat on the floor and held her, allowing himself a smug smile at his accomplishment.

  His arousal pushed against the front of his jeans, trying to break free. She’d undone the top button and had begun working on the zipper when he’d taken charge, leaving him unsatisfied for the moment.

  Skye pressed her lips against his throat, against the throbbing vein as he worked to lower his racing heart. She let out a sigh that made him even harder, if it were possible. He squirmed against her, feeling like a teenager on his first date trying desperately to make it past third base without making a fool of himself.

  He stroked her back with one hand as he pulled his wallet free with the other, cursing as he attempted to extract the condom he always kept inside.

  She trembled, her breathing becoming slower and more rhythmic. It was hard to not feel a sense of pride as she murmured into his skin.

  Her hands slipped from his shoulders and into his lap. One pressed against his arousal, while the other plucked the condom from his hand.

  Skye gave him a mischievous smile. “Your turn.”

  Finn lost his voice as she reached into his jeans and drew him out. One stroke of her hand from root to tip and he was close to bursting, his hips thrusting forward.

  “Patience,” Skye whispered as she leaned forward. “All good things, blah, blah, blah.” She laughed before swirling her tongue around the head of his cock, lapping up the moisture already gathered at the tip.

  Finn threw his head back and moaned as she drew him into her mouth, the wet heat trying his self-control. His hand went to the back of her head, tangling in her dark hair.

  He tried not to control her, but it was hard, her head bobbing up and down in his lap as she drew him closer and closer to the edge with record speed.

  “Ah,” he grunted, and tugged on her locks.