Guts & Glory: Brick (In the Shadows Security Book 6)

by Jeanne St. James

  She tugged on his shirt. “You can’t just blow it up?”

  “That might give me away.”

  She did a cute snort-laugh and face-planted into his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. She felt so good there. Perfect, actually.

  They stood there for a few quiet moments before, “Can you imagine that you love someone, trust someone, and without your knowledge they’re planning your demise?” came muffled from his shirt.

  “It’s sick. I wonder why he needs the money?” Besides just being greedy, what did Kramer need millions for?

  “I don’t know if I can trust falling in love with a man again,” she mumbled. “First Kevin and now Kramer. Why can’t there just be decent men out there?”

  He twisted his fingers into her hair. “There are.”

  “Well, I’ve yet to find one.”

  His chest tightened. He tried to convince himself it was because she didn’t include him among her definition of “decent,” not the fact that she would be looking for someone else. “You’ll find someone.”

  “I just want what my parents had.” She lifted her head but didn’t pull away. “Do you know anything about our parents?”

  He glanced down into her upturned face. “Do you think Mercy sits around like a real human being talking about Rissa?” Though, he did occasionally bitch about Londyn, but he wasn’t telling her that. There didn’t need to be more tension between the two.

  “No. And I don’t get what she sees in him.”

  “She’s perfect for him.”

  “But is he perfect for her?”

  His eyebrows shot up. “Has she said something?”

  “Just that she loves him.”

  “Then he’s perfect for her.”

  She shrugged in his arms. “I have my doubts.”

  “Don’t. And don’t put doubts in Rissa’s head, either. Mercy’s the best he’s been in years. He’s the cornerstone of our team. Diesel might be our boss, but Mercy’s our leader. We don’t talk about it, but we recognize it.” It was so fucking true. Mercy was the glue for their team. He was the one who stepped into the leader role right from the get-go, which was something they needed, especially when they went out in the field on an assignment.

  “What about you?” she asked.

  “What about me?”

  “You don’t want to lead?”

  “I’m just a grunt.”

  She fisted his shirt tighter. “A Navy SEAL sniper is not a grunt. Even I know that.”

  “This former Navy SEAL sniper is fine with being a grunt. He prefers it.”

  “Why?”

  He looked over her head, seeing both nothing but everything at once. “I prefer to be the one receiving the orders, not giving them.”

  “You could’ve fooled me.” She pressed a kiss into his neck and pulled from his arms. “Speaking of, I told Barb that you insist dinner be on the table at six.”

  He grinned. She was so fucking good at playing his wife that it was scary. “That’s true, muffin. But dinner is going to be a snack since it’ll be your ass on the table.”

  She patted him on the chest in a placating manner. “Oh, Seamus, honey, I’m not a snack, I’m an all-you-can-eat buffet.”

  That she was. And he was suddenly starving.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Brick pressed his eye to the scope and surveyed Kramer’s backyard. Like most times when he checked, it was empty. He pivoted his rifle on the stand toward the house and every nerve in his body began to vibrate.

  Where his rifle was set up in the spare bedroom, he could see not only Kramer’s backyard but a corner of the house. And in one window he spotted the man himself standing with a pair of binoculars to his eyes.

  Not birdwatching. Fuck no.

  Kramer was looking into Brick’s backyard.

  Where the pool was.

  Where Londyn was swimming.

  “Fucking motherfucker,” he whispered.

  He adjusted his rifle until the crosshairs of his sight were set perfectly between Kramer’s eyes. His finger hovered over the trigger for only a second before he caressed it lightly.

  He forced all the air out of his lungs and stilled, focused on the man focused on Londyn.

  He shouldn’t blame Kramer. Brick had pushed him to it. On purpose. He’d used Londyn as a tool as part of this job. Over the past couple weeks, he’d been fueling that interest.

  The man’s obsession was his fault.

  And it was that very second when it hit him upside the head like a... brick. He was fighting the same obsession.

  Because of that, the interest Kramer had in Londyn was causing his gut to burn and his blood to boil.

  That fucker wanted what was his.

  He shifted his finger away from the trigger, closed his eyes and pressed his forehead to the cold metal of his MK-11. The only thing he could count on besides his team. And now Londyn.

  After the blood stopped rushing into his ears, after the pounding stopped in his temples, he straightened, closed the curtains and turned to stare at the weapon.

  A weapon he’d taken many lives with, and one night, long ago, almost his own.

  Somehow in the darkest, lowest moment of his life he realized that if he went through with it, the man who had strapped an IED onto that innocent, little boy would win. He would’ve achieved his goal. He had wanted to take out American troops and he would have been successful if Brick had taken his own life.

  And just like that day near the Pakistan border, there was no fucking way Brick was going to let that monster be successful. Even if it cost Brick for the rest of his life.

  But without solid proof of Kramer killing his wife, doing the same to him would make Brick no better. He never took what he did lightly. Not once. Every pull of the trigger had a reason. A valid one. The target had to deserve it.

  A threat. A child molester. A cold-blooded murderer.

  A suicide bomber.

  A person in which the world would be a better and safer place if they were no longer a part of it.

  Brick needed to believe that because it was the only thing keeping him whole. The only thing which kept him from disintegrating into a million particles of dust.

  That day when a five-year-old changed his life forever, it made him question everything.

  Where he came from. What he was doing. Why he was doing it. Where he was going.

  Because the very millisecond he pulled that trigger, a piece of him went missing. Never to be found.

  But then, that was his punishment. His cross to bear. A choice which would haunt him forever.

  As it should.

  Even though he couldn’t kill Kramer for spying on Londyn, he could stop it without giving himself away.

  He jogged down the stairs and outside, stepping up to the pool’s edge. He watched her for a few minutes doing laps as he tried like hell not to twist his head and stare right up at Kramer. Maybe even give him the fucking finger.

  Instead, he concentrated on how Londyn’s body moved through the water. Smooth and steady. Bringing his blood pressure down a few points.

  After a couple more laps, she caught sight of him at the edge and swam over. “Is something wrong?” she asked, blinking up at him with damp, spiky eyelashes.

  “Why would you think anything is wrong?”

  Her long dark blonde hair appeared light brown when it was wet and plastered to her head, but it made her blue eyes pop. Her lips were still a bit puffy from the sex they’d had less than an hour before. After his run and before her swim.

  Which made him believe Kramer now knew their schedule. He got up early to run, he came back, they had sex. She swam and then they had breakfast.

  It had become a habit. A comfortable one that Brick had easily slipped into.

  “One reason might be you standing at the edge of the pool being a creeper.”

  “I’m not the creeper.”

  She blinked. “What does that mean?”

  “Act natural,”
he told her.

  She twisted her face. “You know those words cause the opposite effect, right? Like telling someone to relax when they’re upset?”

  Brick squatted by the pool and freed a wet strand of hair clinging to her cheek. “We’re being watched. Correction, you’re being watched.”

  Londyn’s head snapped up and her spine stiffened. “I assume by Kramer?”

  Brick nodded, keeping his back to the neighbor’s house to block the man’s view of Londyn.

  She bugged her eyes at Brick. “What should I do? Play with myself?”

  “What?” he shouted, then cringed before hissing, “Why the fuck would you do that?”

  “To send him into a frenzy? I thought that was the point, to keep him on the hook.”

  “You mean so his obsession drives him to kill me and kidnap you?”

  She made another face and playfully splashed water on him. “You’ve been teasing him all this time. Making me call you Daddy. Smacking my ass in front of him. Should I go on? If he goes overboard, it’s your fault.”

  That fact was already weighing on him. “If the man killed his wife for the insurance money, he already went overboard.”

  “Right.” She sighed, still clinging to the side of the pool. “I feel sorry for Barb.”

  “Barb’s not going to be the one tied up and... taken advantage of. Though, I’m starting to wonder if you’d enjoy being tied up.”

  “Hey!”

  He cocked a brow. “Am I wrong?”

  “Doesn’t matter if you’re right or wrong.”

  “Let’s get it straight right now. I’m always right.”

  Londyn snorted. “Soooo, anyway, you came out to tell me to put on a show? Do you want me to get out of the pool?”

  “We are going to put on a show. To do that you need to get out of the pool.”

  Her luscious mouth formed a tempting O. “Ooooh. And how are we going to do that?” She began moving toward the pool’s steps but stopped suddenly. “Wait. What kind of show? The good kind or the bad kind?”

  Good question. He could either “discipline” Londyn and hope Kramer was watching, or claim her and hope he got the hint that Londyn was his.

  Or both.

  Londyn climbed out of the pool and watched Brick’s face. It was the first time she ever saw him lost with indecision.

  Because of that, she made it easier for him. Instead of grabbing her towel, she walked directly to him. He rose from his squat and kept his eyes glued to her as she approached.

  That look.

  Every time he looked at her like that her breasts began to ache, and she wanted to jump his bones. Every single time. With all the sex they’d had in the past couple weeks, she’d think they’d get tired of each other.

  But hell no, it just fueled the fire.

  No woman in her right mind would get tired of having sex with the man now standing before her. Unless he sucked in bed.

  She could attest to the fact he didn’t.

  “Is he still watching?” she asked under her breath.

  After a quick flick of his eyes, they landed back on her. “Sure as fuck is.”

  Color rushed into Brick’s cheeks, which surprised her. No way was it from embarrassment. It had to be pure anger since even his blue eyes had a sharp glitter to them.

  “You’re not wearing your glasses,” she whispered.

  “That’s the least of my worries. He’s paying more attention to you than me.”

  “What do you want me to do?”

  He set his jaw. “I’m going to smack you in the face and I’m going to do it hard.”

  “What?” she squeaked. Smacking her ass was one thing, but in the face?

  “I’ll barely miss you but you’re going to act like I hit my target. Do you think you can do that?”

  Ah, he was going to test her acting abilities. “I think I can handle that.” At least she hoped so, otherwise she would end up with another bruise.

  “It’s got to look real, Londyn. I want you to fall to the ground, to play it up but not fight back.” He tipped his head down and his eyes were just as hard as his jaw. “But let me make something really fucking clear. If a man ever strikes you, I want you to claw that fucker’s eyes out, knee him in the nuts and stomp on his face in those ridiculous heels of yours. You got me?”

  Did he think she wouldn’t fight back? No man was striking her out of anger. She wouldn’t knee the asshole in the balls, she would use her high heels to skewer them. Did he forget what she did to Kevin when he backhanded her? But before she could remind him of that, he continued.

  “For right now, you need to act like you’re giving me some sass, so I have a reason to discipline you.”

  “Well, I won’t have to dig deep to give you sass.”

  It was obvious he was fighting a grin at that answer and trying to keep his expression serious and his attention on her. “Ready?”

  She nodded again, but just enough so he could see it.

  “Game time.”

  And action! Planting her hands on her hips, she tilted her head and took a step back. Then she threw in a little chicken-necking for good measure. She had no idea what she was spouting for the most part, she was just throwing out random insults. Anything she could think of. Loud enough for someone to possibly hear her raised voice two houses away but not enough so Kramer could decipher those words.

  Brick’s eyebrows shot up his head and his expression became thunderous, but not one word crossed his tightly pressed lips.

  She shook a finger at him, continued to yell, and when she spun away, Brick seized her wrist, spun her back to him hard enough to give her whiplash, and as he lifted his open hand, she actually cowered out of instinct.

  She dug deep, followed the swing of his arm and as the rush of air brushed along her cheek, she jerked her head as if she’d been struck hard. She began to drop to the ground like he wanted, her hand pressed to her cheek, her hair in her face, but before she could hit the ground, he yanked her back up by the wrist he had never released.

  “You fucking back-talking bitch!” he shouted, spit coming from his mouth.

  Londyn’s heart was racing. And so was her mind.

  She knew women dealt with this kind of thing every day for real. Luckily, she never had. She couldn’t help to think how horrific it would be to be so beaten down by someone who was supposed to love you that you were paralyzed with fear. Paralyzed to the point where you were too afraid to even leave and get out of that situation.

  It not only caused a lump in her throat, but it churned her stomach. While this was all acting, watching the feigned fury on Brick’s face scared the shit out of her.

  Her thoughts were interrupted when his other hand wrapped around the front of her throat and he roughly shoved her. If it wasn’t for him holding onto her wrist, she would have stumbled to the concrete. He was shouting in her face, his own distorted with anger.

  He kept pushing her backward by her throat until her back hit the post supporting the roof of the covered lanai. It was only then that his fingers loosened, though he didn’t release her throat completely, and he dropped her wrist.

  His face got even closer to hers. “That was fucking awesome, baby. He can’t see us where we are now. But you gave him a show he won’t soon forget.”

  She wouldn’t, either. “We gave him a show, but you actually scared me.” Her heart was still thumping heavily in her chest.

  His thumb swept gently up and down her pulse. He had to feel it racing. “Sorry.”

  “Are you sure he won’t call the cops?”

  “I doubt it. He got worked up about me hitting you. And it wasn’t the kind of worked up that meant he was concerned with your well-being.” He brushed a light kiss over her lips. “I didn’t hurt you, right?”

  “No. Did I win an award with my acting?”

  He grinned. “Yep. And I’m about to give it to you to make up for me manhandling you.”

  That sounded promising. “I need to wash the chlor
ine off first.”

  “I can help you with that and then I’ll even make you breakfast.”

  Her eyes went wide. “You’re making breakfast this morning?”

  “Well, it might end up being brunch.”

  “I prefer brunch.”

  “I figured that.” His mouth crushed hers and a few minutes later he was dragging her upstairs to the shower.

  “Almost four goddamn weeks. Ten searches of the house. You spending time with Barb just about every fucking day. Me spending too much time with that man who takes every fucking opportunity to eye fuck you, not only in front of his own woman, but me. We even spent goddamn Thanksgiving with them! We haven’t gotten shit. It’s time to end this fucked up bromance and go home.”

  Walker had even helped him hack into Kramer’s computer and they’d found nothing. The hard drive was squeaky clean. The browser searches were clear. Walker suspected and confirmed the computer was purchased after Kramer’s wife died. Probably with the settlement. Brick ground his teeth.

  “What did your boss say?”

  Brick stopped his pacing, raked fingers through his hair and blew out a loud breath. When he called Diesel to tell him he was ready to end this, to inform him this was a failed mission, the fucker not only laughed at him but hung up.

  The man was the reigning King of Assholes.

  He’d called Mercy next. That didn’t go much better.

  Mostly because he didn’t think Mercy wanted Londyn coming back to his house to stay any time soon.

  Then Brick started to wonder if the job was a whole set-up just to get Londyn out of the man’s house. That Mercy knew the job was impossible from the beginning but told Diesel to accept the job anyway.

  Because almost a month later, Brick was still only holding his own dick in his hand and not something concrete to give to the client.

  The client needed indisputable evidence since he wanted to hand it over to law enforcement to get justice for his daughter. Suspicions without hard evidence weren’t good enough to get Kramer charged with homicide. Or to get any kind of charge to stick.