Undercover Bromance

by Lyssa Kay Adams

  “Text him and let him know,” Alexis said.

  Liv hammered out a message to Geoff and bit her lip waiting for a response. It wasn’t good.

  If I’m not inside in fifteen minutes, we’re toast.

  Liv turned around in her seat. “Hand me the folders.”

  “What?” Alexis said. “Why?”

  “I’m getting out here. You guys park and meet me there.”

  Alexis shook her head as Hop cursed again. This time at her. “No way,” Alexis said. “We do this together.”

  “We are doing it together, but Geoff needs these now.”

  Hop must’ve realized there was no other way, so he braked hard. “Go fast.”

  Alexis shoved the folders through the opening between the front seats. Liv gathered them up and threw open her door. Dodging traffic, she jogged to the sidewalk, which was teeming with tourists.

  Liv clutched the folders to her chest and started to run.

  Three blocks. She just had to make it three blocks. And then she could prove this was all worth it.

  * * *

  * * *

  “You didn’t check the fucking traffic?”

  Mack jerked his eyes from the road to Malcolm, who almost never swore. “I’ve been a little busy,” Mack snapped.

  Traffic around Savoy was a nightmare of stop-and-go, but mostly stop.

  The van hadn’t moved in three full minutes. Mack dragged a hand down his jaw. “I have to get to Liv.”

  “Put it in park,” Malcolm ordered.

  Mack did a double take. “What? Why?”

  “Because I’m going to drive. You just get out and go.”

  Mack shoved the ancient gear stick into park. He threw open his door and jumped out as Malcolm slid behind the wheel. He wove through the cars stopped in both directions but heard the creak of the van door behind him. He turned just in time to see the Russian leap out.

  “What are you doing?” Mack yelled.

  The Russian vaulted over the hood of a car and came to a stop on the sidewalk. “Because it’s grand gesture,” he said.

  Mack grinned and patted his shoulder. “And we always run for grand gesture.”

  Three blocks. He just had to make it three blocks. And then he could prove to her he was worth it.

  * * *

  * * *

  Oh God, Liv hated running. Like, hated it. All those people who ran for pleasure and did marathons and stuff, she’d never understand them. Never. Because every slap of her shoes against the pavement was torture, especially since she couldn’t move her arms.

  But it would be worth it. Geoff would switch the folders. Reporters would read the truth about Royce. And then she would run any distance, any length of time, to get to Braden and tell him everything she should have said long before now.

  One. More. Block.

  Liv skidded around the corner. The parking ramp was in sight. Finally. Sweat ran down her back. Her heart pounded in her ears, eclipsed only by her labored breaths.

  “LIV!”

  She skidded and spun. She had to be hallucinating from lack of oxygen, because that sounded like—

  It was. There he was. Running toward her. Arms pumping, legs sprinting, leaping small curbs in a single bound.

  He slid to a stop a foot away from her.

  And the only thing she could think to do was grin and say, “Braden-Fucking-McRae.”

  * * *

  * * *

  Of all the things Liv could’ve said when she saw him, that was by far the best.

  Mack didn’t think. Not when he ate the distance between them. Not when he cupped her face and kissed her until neither could breathe. Not when he tugged her against his chest.

  “God, Liv. I’m so sorry.”

  She pulled away. “What are you doing here?”

  “Thea told us. I’m so proud of you.”

  She shook her head and squeezed an armful of folders to her chest. “I have so much I need to say to you, but there’s no time. I have to get these to Geoff.”

  Mack reached for them. “Give them to me. Where we are going?”

  “The parking ramp. Fourth floor.”

  He followed her pointing finger and then wrapped her hand inside his free one. “Let’s go.”

  Behind them, his footsteps slapping the sidewalk in time with theirs, the Russian let out a whoop.

  “I love grand gesture!”

  * * *

  * * *

  “Where have you been?” Geoff ducked out from behind a concrete column, sweat circles darkening the underarms of his shirt.

  Liv bent at the waist and panted. “Traffic.”

  “Here,” Mack said, shoving the folders at him.

  Geoff took them and spun. “Meet Riya at the kitchen door in five minutes.”

  He ran toward the staircase and disappeared from view.

  “We have the recording,” Mack said, out of breath. “Noah is going to hack into the audio and play Royce’s confession.”

  “Mack, I—”

  He cradled her face between his hands. “I know. I know. Let’s just do this thing, and then we can say all the things we need to say.”

  They linked hands again and ran the same direction as Geoff.

  “Where is everyone else?” Liv panted.

  “Noah will stay in the van. I don’t know about Malcolm.”

  The Russian held open the heavy door to the stairway. “Hurry,” he said, ushering them through.

  They jogged down the stairs two at a time, their heavy footfalls and heavier breathing the only sounds in the concrete walls. The Russian ran ahead and turned a corner to the ground level.

  He grunted suddenly and let out a Russian curse.

  Liv and Mack locked eyes before bolting down the last few steps. “What’s wrong,” Mack barked as they rounded the corner.

  The Russian was crouched over someone on the ground. Oh, shit.

  “Geoff!” Liv dropped to her knees. Geoff was on his side, eyes closed.

  “He is out cold,” the Russian said. “Like hockey player knocked into the glass.”

  “What happened?” Mack patted Geoff’s face. “Come on, man. Wake up.”

  “The folders are gone,” Liv whispered.

  A sinister voice responded behind them. “These folders?”

  Liv jumped and spun around.

  And face-planted into a massive chest that smelled like salami.

  She lifted her gaze to find ice-blue eyes glaring down.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  “I knew you’d try to pull something,” Sam sneered, holding the folders aloft in his massive hand. “What are these?”

  “The truth,” Liv spit out, her voice echoing inside the concrete cavern.

  Mack wrapped his arm around Liv’s waist and pulled her against his chest. Geoff groaned on the cold, dirty ground and rolled onto his back.

  “What did you do to him?” Liv asked.

  Sam shrugged. “Just a bump on the head. He’ll wake up sooner or later.”

  “It won’t matter how long you keep us in here,” Mack said. “Even if you stop us from getting those folders to the reporters, we have Royce’s confession on tape.”

  Sam blinked. It was almost imperceptible, but it was there. Fear. He covered it with bluster. “You’re lying.”

  “Nope,” Liv said. “And with Geoff’s help and Jessica’s, you’re going down too. You’ve been covering for him and doing his dirty work for years.”

  Liv’s phone rang in her pocket. Sam glared. “Don’t answer it.”

  “It’s all coming out, Sam,” Liv said. “It’s over. Just accept it and let us go.”

  Now Mack’s phone rang. Everyone was looking for them.

  “Now or never, Sam,” Mack said.

  Sweat beade
d on Sam’s brow. “I’m not going down for him.”

  “That’s between you and the authorities. We just want to stop him. Either help us or don’t, but Royce is going down. Today.”

  Sam spun and started to pace, panic fueling his steps. Mack met the Russian’s eyes. “Vlad?”

  The Russian raised his eyebrows. “Yes?”

  “Break his balls.”

  Sam’s eyes registered the threat only a split second before a massive Russian fist met his face. Sam crumpled, the folders slipping from his hands. Liv squatted to gather them up, pausing just long enough to check on Sam. “Is he okay?”

  The Russian hoisted Geoff over his shoulder. “He will be fine. Let’s go.”

  “I don’t want you to get in trouble for hitting him,” Liv said, glancing over her shoulder as Mack grabbed her hand.

  “Let me worry about that,” the Russian said. Or Vlad, as Mack called him. He actually had a name.

  They ran into the alley behind the restaurant, their feet crunching broken asphalt as they ran toward the kitchen door. Riya stood just outside in her Savoy uniform and chef’s coat, biting her nails and pacing. When she spotted them, she nearly deflated in relief. But then she saw the Russian with Geoff over his shoulder. “Oh my God, what happened to him?”

  “Sam hit him.”

  Geoff’s voice rose above Vlad’s shoulder. “What’s happening? Why am I upside down?”

  “Here,” Liv said, shoving the folders at Riya. “Go.”

  Riya shook her head, and time stood still as Liv registered the look on her friend’s face. “No,” Liv breathed. “We’re too late?”

  “They’ve already started letting people in. We can’t switch the folders now.”

  No. Dammit, no! Liv dragged her hands through her hair. Mack punched his fist into his other hand and cursed.

  “We still have the recording,” he said. “Let me call Noah.”

  Liv sucked in a breath. She needed to think. Regroup. “Where are Jessica and Alexis?”

  Riya swallowed hard. “They tried to call you.”

  Dread filled Liv’s stomach. “Where are they?”

  “Inside. They’re going to just confront him in front of everyone.”

  * * *

  * * *

  “Breathe.” Mack rubbed Liv’s back. She sat on the bench inside the employee locker room, bent at the waist and sucking air. Riya had hidden them in there before running out to take her place among the staff, but fifteen minutes had gone by with no news, no updates. Gavin and Thea had called ten minutes ago and said they couldn’t get in. Neither could Malcolm. He was stuck in the van with Noah.

  Liv was going to throw up.

  Geoff was laid out on the other bench, his head in the Russian’s lap. Vlad held an ice pack to Geoff’s temple. “No concussion,” Vlad said. “I know these things.”

  “I should be out there,” Liv said. “I’m the one who dragged them into this.”

  “Royce dragged them into this,” Mack said.

  “I can’t just hide in here!”

  The door flew open. Riya burst in, a wild look on her face.

  Liv shot to her feet. “What’s happening?”

  “They stood on chairs and yelled that he’s a serial sexual harasser, and all hell broke loose!”

  Riya punched a few buttons on the audio unit on the wall that controlled speakers throughout the restaurant. The locker room was suddenly alive with the sounds of yelling, gasping, and the blustery denials of Royce.

  “These women are disgruntled former employees! I had to fire them! Do not listen to them.”

  Liv gripped Mack’s hand as Alexis’s voice rose above the cacophony. “Royce Preston blackmailed me into an unwanted sexual affair—”

  “Shut up!” Royce bellowed. “Don’t listen to these women!’

  “—for more than a year!” Alexis finished.

  “Does that woman even look like my type?” Royce sneered.

  “We have seven more women who have come forward,” Jessica yelled.

  Liv’s hands flew to her mouth. “Oh my God,” she breathed. “Listen to them.”

  “We have written statements for every reporter in the room,” Alexis said.

  “I want these women arrested!” Royce screamed over the noise. “I will sue your asses for slander. Sam! Where the hell is Sam?”

  Liv sank against Mack’s chest, her back pressed against the strong beat of his heart.

  Chaos was a concert through the speakers—a clash of blustery denials and reporters’ questions and, above it all, the confident, strong voices of two women who’d had enough and were taking back their lives.

  The door burst open again.

  Royce stalked in. A belligerent bison, huffing and puffing. He shook from the top of his toupee to the toes of his Berluti loafers. His face was the color of a stewed tomato. “Olivia.”

  Mack’s arm snaked around her waist.

  “I knew you were behind this.” He advanced with threatening intent, but Vlad shot to his feet, sending Geoff sideways onto the floor.

  Vlad jumped in Royce’s way. “You will not move,” he said flatly.

  Royce gulped and backed up.

  “It’s over, Royce,” Liv said. “You’re done.”

  Royce shook his finger at her. “You won’t get away with this. I will sue your asses. All of you. You really think anyone is going to believe you over me, you insignificant little bitch?”

  Mack dialed Noah and, with his eyes locked on Royce, gave a simple instruction. “Play it.”

  The speakers throughout the restaurant scratched with static, and then a clear, strong voice came through.

  “What do I have to give you to get you to back off?”

  Liv smiled. “I was recording our conversation, Royce.”

  Royce’s face drained of color, the first sign of any recognition that he was good and truly done.

  “A signed statement.”

  “A signed statement saying what?”

  Liv laughed at the sound of her own voice—so much calmer than she’d felt that night. And far calmer than she felt right now.

  “That you didn’t see a goddamned thing.”

  “Is that how you do it? How you keep your dirty little secret? You intimidate women until they sign statements saying it never happened, they never saw anything, you never touched them?”

  “Do you really think I don’t know how to do this after all this time?”

  The last line skipped and repeated. Skipped and repeated. Over and over. A nightmarish echo. A confession that spelled the end.

  Mack laughed and dropped his forehead to Liv’s hair. “Noah,” he murmured.

  Royce found his bluster one last time. “Aren’t you forgetting something? I confessed something about you, too, that night, Mack. I will make sure everyone knows your dirty little secret.”

  Mack lifted his head, spread his hand wide across Liv’s stomach, and held her tight. “I don’t care, Royce. I’m done hiding.”

  Liv turned in his arm and looked up. “Are you sure?”

  Mack smoothed a curl behind her ear. “I want to start fresh. You deserve that.”

  Once again, the door flew open. Royce’s publicist ran in. “We need to go out through the back, Royce,” the man said, a greenish tint to his face. “It’s chaos out there. The reporters are going to swarm you.”

  Vlad planted a hand in Royce’s chest. “You will not move.”

  “Let him go, Vlad,” Liv said. “There’s nowhere he can go to escape from this now.”

  The publicist cast a wary and perhaps apologetic glance at Liv before wrapping his fingers around Royce’s elbow and pulling him out.

  Liv was only peripherally aware of things happening after that. Geoff rose from the floor with a groan. The Russian ran to his aid. Riya
said she needed to go check on Jessica and Alexis.

  Liv saw and heard only one thing clearly.

  Mack.

  He pulled her into his arms. “Are you okay?”

  She pressed her cheek to his chest. “I am now.”

  His arms suddenly tightened, and he dropped his face to her shoulder. “Tell me I haven’t lost you, Liv.”

  Liv pulled back and once again looked up at him. “Do you think maybe we can say those things to each other now?”

  Mack swallowed hard and cupped her cheeks with his hands. “I’m so sorry I left that night at your sister’s. I should have stayed and held you, but I failed you because I was a fucking coward—”

  She covered his mouth with her hand. “Shut up.”

  He blinked but obeyed.

  “I’m the one who failed that night.” She slid her hand to his jaw. Her voice took on the tremor that reflected how she really felt. Nervous. Scared. So damn sorry. “I used the bullshit about your name as an excuse because I was scared. Because I knew I was on the verge of falling in love with you, and that’s never happened to me before.”

  He broke into one of those grins, the kind that told her everything was going to be okay. “Well, hell, darling. Maybe we should just give it a try.”

  Her heart pounded. “Give what a try?”

  “Don’t you think it’s high time you and I fell in love?”

  Something broke in her chest that spread warmth and joy and safety. Happiness coursed through her as she rose on tiptoes to brush her lips across his. “Hey, Braden?”

  He dipped for another kiss. “Hmmm?”

  “I already have fallen in love with you.”

  “Good,” he laughed quietly, his breath warm against her lips. “Because so have I.”

  His brow came to rest on hers, his hands cradling her face as if he never wanted to let her go. “Hey, Braden?” she whispered.

  “Hmm?”

  “Kiss me, you idiot.”

  He did. Oh, how he did. He devoured her mouth, poured his heart into every nudge of his lips, every caress of his hands, every murmured promise and vow. Liv tangled her fingers in his hair and held on to him. She was never letting him go.