by Lexi Blake
Her lips curled up in the sweetest smile. “I didn’t close the drapes in the living room.”
What did that have to do with anything? “So? Do you think someone’s roaming around outside Patricia’s mansion at this time of night?”
She was so pretty when she thought he’d said something silly. He knew. She kind of half rolled her eyes and then sighed whenever he said something stupid. “She doesn’t turn on the security during her parties, Bran. Too many people coming and going and they’ll be doing it for another few hours. If she hadn’t been so pissed at me, I would still be at the big house. She tends to use this time of the night to select someone to service her for the evening. I suspect she’d planned on that being you.”
He’d been surprised he hadn’t had to sneak back in. There was a gate, but it had been left open. Patricia had fought him on that. She’d claimed she didn’t want her guests coming into an armed camp. Her laxity had been his salvation. He’d been able to walk right in and make himself at home in the guesthouse he and Carly had been sharing for the week.
“You know that was never going to happen, right?” All week he’d been on edge about how sexual Patricia was around him. It made him anxious and close to violence, and somehow now that he’d made the decision to deal with the situation, it seemed easier to handle. It was as if his whole soul had relaxed knowing he was going to find a way to cope. Not by ignoring the issues, but by dealing with them so he had a future.
That was the true gift his future wife had given him.
Her hands found his hair, smoothing it back. “I know. Are you okay?”
He groaned, but smiled. It would always be there. His past was marked with his vulnerability. Perhaps that was why he couldn’t admit it until she’d come along. She made him strong. “I’m good, baby. From now on any creepy chick who thinks she owns me has to deal with you. I’m sending her right to you.”
Carly would always try to protect him.
“You better. I’ll freaking take them out. Like I said. I’m a little possessive.”
He believed her. He damn straight knew he was. No one was touching his salvation. He let his head rest in his hand. “I’m okay with your possessiveness. I think you’ll find I match you, baby. Now, why are you getting out of this bed? There’s zero reason to do that until the sun comes up. Drew’s sending a car at a god-awful early hour. We’ve got to be at the airport at eight. We’ll be back in Dallas before you know it. I’ll have someone pack up your place in Florida and send us everything by next week. Until then, make a list of what you’ll need and it will be waiting for us when we land. You don’t need clothes for that.”
She didn’t need clothes for a good long while. Oh, she would say she needed them to get on the plane, but he would have them off her very quickly.
“I thought we were going to Austin.”
He sat up. There were a few realities to face. “We should talk about that. The therapist I think I should see is in Dallas. He specializes in PTSD.”
She moved toward him, reaching for him. “Then we’ll stay in Dallas for a while. That sounds wonderful, Bran. We can find a place on our own and start to think about what we want to do.”
He wanted to do her. Again and again. But he knew that eventually he was going to have to share her with the world. “You can start to plan how you want to roll out your show.”
She smiled. “Our show.”
That was his girl. She wouldn’t leave him out. He was going to make a life out of working to make her dreams come true. It was easy since she was his dream. “Our show. Our network. Our brand. We can do anything.”
The smile on her face made him believe his words. “As long as we’re together.”
“So come back to bed.” They had a few hours. He would let her sleep. Eventually. When his dick couldn’t stand up again, they would sleep.
She laughed, the sound filling the room as she pulled away from him with a broad smile. “No. I need a minute to recover. And I need to talk to you about something I might have done.”
He sat up, letting the sheet drop around his waist. She’d thought he’d been leaving her. What had she done? They’d spent hours apart. He had to hope she hadn’t done anything permanent. Not that anything was truly permanent. He’d learned that from Riley. He would get his brother on anything she’d signed. He would get her out of it. “What did you do, baby? Did Patricia make you sign a new contract?”
She rolled those pretty eyes of hers. “I didn’t sign anything. I was always leaving Cain Corp unless Drew needed me to stay.”
He was getting her off the battlefield of his brother’s war. He wanted them all out. McKay-Taggart could figure out the issues and find the culprits and then they would all sit down and plan how to best bring justice about. They were out of the revenge business. “You’re leaving tomorrow. You’re quitting without notice. All obstacles have been hurdled. I won’t leave you here.”
Her nose wrinkled sweetly. Yeah, that was her you’re-a-dumbass face. “As if I want to stay. No. I’m going home with you. But I might have committed a crime on my way out the door.”
He frowned. “Crime?”
She nodded. “You know how I had to waylay Shelby? I don’t know if you heard that or not.”
His eyes widened. “Shelby was there? Like, scandal-book Shelby?”
He hadn’t been in that loop. He’d only heard what Drew wanted him to hear, hence his violent confrontation with Kenny Jones Jr., who probably was going to sue him. They would deal with that, too.
“Yes,” Carly replied. “She showed up and wanted to confront Patricia. I took her into the first room I could. It was the downstairs casual parlor. I’ve been in that room a hundred times, but Drew saw something I couldn’t. Wait here. I’ll be right back.”
She turned and he watched as she sashayed away.
Damn, that girl was fine. He’d never seen a prettier one forward or backward.
He laid back, letting himself relax. She was his. She was going to stand beside him. He’d listened to her. Carly didn’t blame him for what had happened to Mandy. He might always blame himself, but she didn’t look at him differently. It gave him the strength to face it.
He’d actually faced a lot tonight when he thought about it. He’d stood up and finally told Drew and Hatch how they’d hurt him. For so long that had seemed like a pussy thing to do, but now he realized it took guts. It took a lot to stand in front of someone and not only speak the truth but be willing to hear theirs. Drew and Hatch had told him how they felt and now they were good.
Fuck. For the first time in so long, they were good.
He needed to see Mia. He needed to stand in front of her and apologize for taking her out into the cold. She wouldn’t blame him. He didn’t even know if she remembered, but there had been something freeing about saying what had happened. About asking for forgiveness and giving it in return.
Carly had given him that gift.
He’d spent so much time wondering if he was worthy of love. That wasn’t the question that had freed him. He should have asked if he was capable of loving. That had been the point of his whole life. Loving Carly had made him a better man. Loving her had made him not alone. Even if she’d denied him tonight, loving her would have elevated him past the animal he’d allowed himself to become.
He’d accepted surviving without truly living.
Never again. He would honor her by honoring life. He would do what it took to heal. And that felt so fucking good.
He sighed and let it sink in. He was going back to Dallas. Where it all began. He’d been born there. In some ways he’d died there. Drew had relocated them all to Austin when he could, as though the city was tainted for them somehow.
But Mia had found Case in Dallas. Now Bran would find this new version of himself there.
Bran 2.0.
There was the sound of scuffling an
d Bran sat up.
He wasn’t sure why, but something made him not call out. It was there on the tip of his tongue to say her name and ask her what the holdup was. He didn’t because a chill went down his spine.
They weren’t alone. Not anymore.
He wasn’t sure how he knew because he didn’t hear anything except something sliding along the tile, but he knew damn well someone else was out there with her. Maybe it was all his training with Case, but he rather thought it was years of having to know his surroundings. He’d never been safe. He’d always had to be on his guard.
He moved slowly, not wanting to give away his position. With great efficiency, he slid his legs into his jeans and got ready to move. Despite the fact that they were staying in a guesthouse, it was still a large property. It had three bedrooms and two living areas plus an office. He was fairly certain she’d gone back out to the main living space, the room that was the greatest distance from the master bedroom they shared.
He let his whole body go still, listening for anything, and then he heard it.
“Don’t move.”
That wasn’t said by his Carly. The voice was deep and masculine. It was his cue to get his ass moving.
His heart nearly stopped and he could feel that red mist threaten to overtake him.
He took a deep breath. Carly needed more than a raging animal. She needed him to stay cool and calm if he was going to figure out what was going on.
He moved toward his bag where he’d left the SIG he’d been carrying for weeks. He’d spent a lot of time on the gun range lately. When he’d decided on his cover, he’d gone into training with Case. He’d become very proficient with the weapon.
It felt good in his hand. Somehow it calmed him and reminded him that this wasn’t a fight. It was a mission.
“Go and take out the man,” a deep voice said.
“If you hurt him I’m not giving you anything,” Carly vowed. “You can find it yourself.”
He moved down the hall and slipped into the small bathroom, leaving the light off. If this was about her mob debt he swore he was going to take the entire organization down. Carly was still talking, so she was alive. He needed to keep it that way.
“Fine, go and get him and then we’ll see if she’ll talk.”
He waited, listening for the steps that would tell him someone was coming. The hardwoods creaked slightly and he watched through the crack in the door as the man strode toward the bedroom. He was dressed in black, his big body intimidating.
Bran slipped back out and followed their first attacker. He kept close to the wall. Shooting the man wasn’t an option. It would be too loud and he wasn’t sure how many men were out there. He’d only heard one voice so he hoped it was only two, but he couldn’t count on it.
He glanced down at the man’s hand. He’d come prepared. His gun had a suppressor attached.
Bran needed that gun. Maybe taking out a few of his men would make DiLuca think again. Of course after Bran was done, there would be no more DiLuca. He hadn’t done what he’d needed to do before because they hadn’t wanted the police involved. They’d been concentrating on taking down Cain and they’d needed all their focus there. This time around Bran would dedicate his life to ensuring this fucker never came after his wife again.
He moved in and attacked, bringing the grip of his SIG down as hard as he could. He had a good three inches of height on the man and Case had taught him right where to hit. There was a crack and then the asshole fell forward, the bed breaking his fall.
“Hey? Hurry it up,” the man in the living room yelled.
“Got him.” Bran deepened his voice as he reached down and grabbed the man’s gun. Two guns were better than one. He thought briefly about shooting the man in the head and then realized he would have to explain to Carly why he’d shot a helpless man.
Besides, it would be good to have someone to answer a few questions.
“Well, bring him out here,” the boss yelled. “This bitch is getting difficult.”
Oh, that one wasn’t going to survive. He only needed one person to question. He could kill the other one.
Bran moved more quickly now, readying himself to shoot the minute he got the chance. He stopped at the end of the hall. There was a mirror along the wall opposite him. He could see the reality of the situation reflected in it.
Carly was on her knees, a gun to the back of her head. The man who’d attacked her was alone.
“So here’s the deal, sweetheart,” he said. “You’re going to give us what we came for or we’ll kill your boyfriend. I assure you my associate already has him and it won’t be pretty if you delay us in any way.”
Carly took a deep breath and her voice was surprisingly calm when she spoke. “I want to see him first. Then I’ll tell you where it is.”
Where what was?
He didn’t have time for that. The man had a gun to her head and the second asshole wasn’t going to stay asleep forever. Luckily the mirror let him know where everyone was and all that training with Case made him confident.
He was in control. He could do this. He wasn’t giving in to rage or letting his fear take over. Not when she was on the line. He could feel it threatening to bubble over but he held it together.
Breathe in. Step out. Pivot and aim.
He fired and before the man could turn and see him, there was a hole in his head and he was falling to the ground. A thud shook the floor.
Carly was up and in his arms before he could take another breath. She wrapped herself around him. “I thought they were going to kill you.”
He held her for a moment. “We’re okay. Get on your phone and call the police. The one in the back isn’t dead. I’m going to tie him up and we’ll figure out why DiLuca can’t take no for an answer.”
She stepped back, her hands shaking. “I don’t think it was DiLuca. They didn’t want money. They wanted something else. They wanted something I stole from Patricia’s house.”
Before he could say another thing, his shoulder slammed back and he suddenly couldn’t breathe. He watched as a look of complete horror fell over Carly’s face.
He touched his chest and it was wet. Blood.
His legs wouldn’t hold him anymore and he felt Carly trying to put her hands on him.
But the world was getting dim.
The last sight he saw was Carly crying and then he was far away.
Chapter Nineteen
Carly couldn’t breathe. It felt like the world had slowed down, and she prayed she was dreaming because Bran was on the floor with a hole in his chest. He had a hole in his chest and there was blood. So much blood.
Pure panic rushed through her, bringing the world back to full-on raging speed.
She had to do something or Bran would die. He had a bullet in him. A bullet. Where had the bullet come from? It didn’t matter because it was there and it had to come out. He was dying and she couldn’t move.
She had to get the phone and call the police. An ambulance. He needed an ambulance.
“Don’t touch the phone if you don’t want to end up like him.”
Carly looked up and there was a woman standing in the doorway. She was dressed in black but not like the men who had come before. This woman was stylish. She’d even worn killer heels for the crime spree. The hood to her jacket was up, but Carly could see her face.
She looked delicate, with high cheekbones and stark green eyes. Those eyes were icy cold as she looked down at Bran. “He looks a lot like his father. Not as much as Drew, but the resemblance is there.”
She said it with all the emotion of a woman who’d just killed an insect.
Carly moved her body in front of his, trying to protect as much as she could. He was still breathing. It was shallow, but she could feel it. As long as he was alive, there was a chance. She couldn’t let him take another bullet. “What do
you want, Francine?”
There was only one explanation. The woman in front of her, the woman who had shot Bran was Francine Wells. And she definitely wasn’t some elderly woman Patricia had victimized.
Her lips curled up in a slightly amused smile. “Figured that out, did you? You know I had an affair with his father? I’m sure he doesn’t. Poor sainted Benedict and his pitiful wife. She was the most pathetic thing. I freed her.”
How the hell was she going to get out of this? “What do you want?”
“I want the drive, of course. I want what all of the players in our little game want.”
“I don’t have it.”
“Of course you do. I saw you take it. I assume you haven’t had time to turn it over to Andrew yet. You know if his father had half his drive and focus, he could have been an amazing man. I actually admire Drew. He needs to stop poking uselessly into the past. There’s nothing but pain for him there. Now, hand over the vase.”
“The vase?” The words didn’t quite make sense. What did the vase have to do with anything?
Francine sighed. “Why would you steal that piece-of-shit vase if you didn’t know that’s where Patty hid her burn folder? You know, the one in which we all make a pact to get rid of our problems and make a lot of money in the meantime. Obviously we wouldn’t trust one another. We each had a copy of the file to ensure that no one would go to the police. It’s not simply about Benedict and Iris. It’s all of our sins laid bare. And that’s the last one in existence. Once I have it, no one can stop me.”
“You killed Steven Castalano,” she said, her voice shaking.
“Of course. What no one knows is that I killed Phillip Stratton, too. A bit too much morphine in his IV after I was certain he had destroyed his copy of the file, and I sent him on to his just reward. He got sentimental in his old age. He destroyed it because he knew it would kill his daughter’s chances to lead the company. I destroyed Castalano’s. Now I’m taking Patty’s and we’ll be done. I want it now.” She pointed the gun right at Carly’s forehead.
