by Hope Jones
Because I took the turn so quickly, the SUV had to slam on its brakes, and the tires squealed before they righted themselves.
“They’re still behind me. They are following me though. They had to slam on their brakes to take the left onto whatever road this is,” I panted. I was on the verge of a full-blown panic attack and couldn’t calm my breaths.
“I know, but you don’t need to worry about them. I need you to slow down.”
“Slow down? Are you crazy?” I yelled to the obviously crazy man on the other end of the line.
“No, baby.” He chuckled lightly, but not like this morning. This morning, he laughed like there wasn’t a weight on his chest. Although he may have sounded lighthearted, I could tell he was still worried. “You have a four-way stop coming up, and I need you to slow down to make sure there isn’t traffic. I don’t want you to stop but slow enough to make sure you aren’t going to get hit,” he clarified.
“That makes sense,” I told him.
I came up a hill and spotted the four-way stop. The SUV was gaining speed now that I had slowed down. Fuck, I needed to be pushing the gas pedal, not the brakes.
Fuckity, fuck, fuck.
“Hux, they’re getting closer.”
“It’s okay. You’re gonna be fine. I’ve got one of my guys a quarter mile behind them. As soon as you’re here at the office, the SUV won’t pull in, and my guy is going to go after him.”
Whoosh.
A breath of relief.
“How far from your office am I?”
“Two miles away, baby. You’re doing good.”
Another sigh of relief.
So close.
Pop!
I heard it as soon as I crossed the four-way stop. I shrieked and lowered my head a little, but I couldn’t move much if I wanted to be able to see over the steering wheel.
“Phoebe!” Hux bellowed from the phone that I dropped when the gunshot rang out.
“Hang on,” I yelled back, hoping he was able to hear me. I was coming closer to another stop sign, but I had no idea whether to turn left or right. I found my phone and shoved it between my ear and shoulder then gripped the steering wheel as tight as I could, my knuckles turning white, before slamming on the gas pedal. I could hear Hux mumbling something to someone else, but the pounding in my ears was too loud to make out what he was saying.
“Left or right?” I shouted.
“Left. You’ll come on some red lights, but I’ll have Kian in a police cruiser behind you. He’ll give you a blue light escort,” Hux rushed out.
Kian was in the median and gave me enough room to swerve across the four-lane highway, my tires squealing the whole time. I righted myself, and Kian pulled out behind me, followed by the black SUV, followed by another black SUV but a different model. I guessed that was Hux’s man.
“Keep going straight until you come up on my parking garage. It’ll be on the left; I’m down here waiting.”
Click.
He fuckin’ hung up on me! What in the actual fuck?
I was the one being chased, shot at, and racing down the highway at dangerous speeds, and he hung up on me?
This motherfucker.
I was going to kill him when I saw him.
I kept my lead foot on the gas pedal and made quick work of finding Huxley’s parking garage. I pulled left into it, Kian behind me. I stopped abruptly to catch my breath and to remove my death grip from the steering wheel. My hands were shaking and my breathing was erratic. I felt like my chest was going to explode. I looked in the rearview mirror just in time to see both the SUV that was following me and then Hux’s man’s SUV zooming past the garage.
I let out a pent-up breath I didn’t even know I was holding in. My chest didn’t feel like it was going to explode anymore, but it still hurt.
A knock on my window startled me, and I screamed and tried to crawl into the passenger seat.
“It’s just me,” I heard a vaguely familiar voice say.
Kian was standing there with his hands up in a defensive gesture, and I slammed my hand on my chest, feeling my heart thumping beneath my palm.
I unlocked my doors, and Kian came over me and unbuckled my seat belt.
“Are you okay?” he asked, eyes scanning my body for injuries.
“I’m fine,” I rasped.
His eyes softened and he leaned into the car, bringing me close, hugging me to his chest. The comfort felt amazing, and it was nice to know I was safe and that Kian had my back.
Due to my job, I’d met and had a few conversations with Kian before now in his capacity as a detective in the East Haven police department. More than once, I tried to flirt my way into information, but I had a feeling he helped me because he wanted to and not because of my charms.
Kian is a little shorter than Hux by an inch or two, with dark, almost-black hair and crystal-blue eyes. If I were a different person, Kian would be my type.
He rubbed circles on my back, talking softly in my ear, trying to calm me. It was mostly working. My breathing wasn’t as erratic, and my shaking hands slowed a little.
“Move,” someone growled from behind him.
Kian didn’t say a word, but he bent down and pressed a kiss to my forehead then stepped away and allowed Huxley the room to get to me. When he got the first look at me, his eyes hardened and his jaw set tight, but he managed to lock it down and his features softened. My face crumpled, and I had no idea what to do with what I was feeling, so I bawled.
Yup, I broke out into ugly tears.
I was not one of those women who could cry all delicate and soft, making sure they didn’t look hideous.
Nope.
I had no control of it and snot ended up everywhere as well as my river of tears.
Huxley rushed forward and pulled me out of my car as quickly as he could with his large body trying to fit into my small car. He took care not to bump my head or any of my limbs on the doorframe and cradled me against his chest.
“Gonna fuckin’ kill ‘em,” he rumbled, the sound soothing me.
“Lock it down, brother,” Kian warned.
“He never showed up for the meeting, and instead he pulled this shit and started war,” Hux growled.
“Understand that, but you need to put a lid on it. Look after your woman.”
I couldn’t see Kian with my head buried in Huxley’s chest, but I felt his presence leave, and then Hux and I were walking upstairs. Because of my hysteria, I decided to forgive Kian for calling me Hux’s woman. My tears weren’t coming as fast, but they were still leaking out of the corners of my eyes.
“I’m mad at you,” I mumbled to Hux when we got in the elevator that headed to his office. I didn’t lift my head, ‘cause I didn’t want him seeing me with a swollen face and tears still coming.
I was stronger than this, dammit. True, I’d never been in a high-speed chase, and I’d never been shot at, but I had been in sticky situations. So why the hell was I crying like a bitch who couldn’t handle her alcohol?
“Why, baby?” Hux replied.
“You freakin’ hung up on me!” I shouted, finally looking at him and glaring.
“Needed to get a handle on my anger before you got here,” he supplied.
“Oh.”
I guess that was a good reason to hang up on me. I could understand wanting to get a handle on emotions, since I was currently trying to get a handle on my own.
“You’re forgiven,” I told him, having to pry the words out of my mouth, since I wasn’t quite ready to forgive him.
The elevator dinged, and Hux and I were moving again. He didn’t strain at all, having carried me upstairs and keeping me in his arms the entire time we were in the elevator. This was further proof that he worked out more than I did. I would have been dead-exhausted by now.
We entered a room and he sat on the couch, cradling me in his lap.
“Phoebe,” he said, and I peeked at him.
“Yes,” I said when he didn’t speak and looked at me with a st
range glint in his eye that I couldn’t put my finger on.
“I’m sorry, babe. Hector never hinted that he didn’t plan on taking the meeting or that he was going to take matters into his own hands,” he whispered, his eyes imploring me to believe him. I did believe him but didn’t understand why he was apologizing. He had done nothing wrong.
“Honey, you didn’t do anything. You took on the mess I made when you didn’t have to. I should have kept my nose out of it when my source warned me that nothing good was happening with Sheriff Douche,” I told him, stroking his cheek, his scruff tickling my palm.
I liked Hux with scruff. It gave him a dangerous edge, and I had a thing for danger.
Hux nodded but didn’t say anything. I suspected he didn’t believe me and still held himself responsible. I also suspected I wouldn’t be able to convince him otherwise.
We sat in silence for a few minutes. I thought about what this meant for me. Clearly, Hector never intended to meet Hux and had to have known that the attempt on my life would make Huxley a man on a mission. I didn’t want to be a prisoner in my house, holed up for my safety. I wanted to be able to move around freely, not looking over my shoulder, and not worried about what boogey man lurked behind each corner. I could try to say it wasn’t fair, but it was. I knew my job would lead me to this one day. That inevitably, I would find myself in a situation I couldn’t get out of. And if I were honest with myself, that’s half the reason I took the job.
I had no family, no kids, no cousins, no one who tied me here except Millie and her family. It would be easy for Millie to move on and find a new best friend. She was vibrant and the best thing to happen to me in recent years. Someone would be lucky to have her as a friend.
So, what did it matter if I had a job that was dangerous?
I wasn’t suicidal, but I would give almost anything to see my mom and grandparents again in whatever afterlife there was.
I missed them more than I cared to think about, and I did everything imaginable to keep them off my mind.
It sucked losing my mom, but when she died, at least I still had my grandparents. Then when my nanny passed, my world crumbled. I had to be strong for my papa, who loved my nanny more than life itself. They had this unbreakable bond I used to want when I was younger. But after watching my papa turn into a shell of himself, I knew I couldn’t put myself through that pain.
From that point on, I avoided any kind of serious relationship.
“Bee,” Huxley called to me, and my head snapped to him so quickly I was sure I’d have whiplash.
“What’d you call me?” I gritted out between clenched teeth.
“Bee,” he said, his eyebrows scrunching together. “Is that okay?”
“It’s fine,” I mumbled and looked away, the sting of that nickname too much to handle with everything I already endured today. Papa used to call me Bee. He told me I was just like a honeybee; I couldn’t sit still and was constantly searching for something new. A bee was always looking for new nectar and would move on to the next flower. He gave me that nickname when I was eight or so, and it stuck. From that point on, I was Bee to him. I honestly couldn’t remember the last time my grandfather called me Phoebe.
“Are you okay?” Huxley asked, forcing me to look at him with a gentle hand on my jaw.
“I’m fine.” I gave him a tight-lipped smile and shrugged. “Just another day, I suppose.”
Hux searched my eyes for a few moments. “I hate to get up, but I really need to make a few phone calls,” he apologized.
“That’s okay. Go ahead.”
“Kiss,” he said, right before he leaned down and gently pressed his lips to mine.
He tasted like spicy mint mixed with the salt of my tears, and it was a heady combination. Before I could get too into the kiss, Huxley pulled away, resting his head against mine for two seconds before setting me down gently on the couch and leaving the room in a poof.
I genuinely wanted to know how the fuck he always seemed to just disappear.
Hux
Huxley Carson stalked down the hall, his boots clomping against the floor. He entered the tech room, where four of his guys were huddled around a computer. Hux had tasked Owen, his computer genius, to track the Disciples’s finances and find where Hector was storing the drugs, so his team could take them down.
“Anything?” he asked the room.
“Roman is on his way to the location now and said he would check in when he got there,” Owen told Hux, chewing on his lip nervously.
“Anything else?”
Owen shook his head.
He was the first person Hux hired when he started Carson Security and Investigations. The kid was a computer vigilante who had been on the FBI’s radar for all the wrong reasons. Roman was Hux’s right-hand man and was hired next, once he graduated from Quantico. Over time, Hux added two more guys, Stone and Colter. The five of them made up Carson Security and Investigations.
“Need you to pinpoint the location of the next phone call I make. I need it quick. Hector is smart and won’t stay on the phone long,” Huxley stressed, pulling his phone out and dialing the number Hector gave him yesterday when he requested a meeting.
“Hermano,” Hector greeted confidently.
“Attempt failed,” Hux calmly stated. He couldn’t risk showing any emotion. He couldn’t make a mistake. Phoebe’s life depended on it.
“Oh, don’t I know it, amigo. But imagine my shock when she showed up on your doorstep,” Hector sneered in a thick accent. “I imagine you two are quite close for you to be her first call when trouble comes a’knockin’.”
Fuck!
Hux gripped the phone tighter in his hand, clenching his teeth to stop the roar that wanted to come out. “You’re starting a war with me, Hector. You know you don’t want to do that,” he warned.
Everyone in East Haven knew not to fuck with Hux or the men of Carson Security. The men he had on his side were very well trained in numerous areas and were not the type to be crossed.
“A war I’m willing to start.” Hector laughed, and then the line went dead.
“Fuck!” Huxley exploded, throwing his phone against one of the walls that wasn’t lined with computer monitors, a million tiny pieces flying through the air.
“No luck on the location, boss,” Owen said.
Goddammit.
Studying his shoes for a long few seconds, Huxley Carson looked at everyone in the room and told them, “Brace, boys.”
Six
Letting Go
I WAS LYING in my bed, trying like hell to go to sleep but failing, when the bed dipped. I didn’t have to look to know it was Hux. I could smell the spicy mint that I had come to know as his scent. Hux moved closer to me, gathering me in his arms without making a sound. One of his arms was under my head, and my back was fitted tightly against his chest. He moved my hair off my neck and placed a soft kiss right below my hairline, eliciting a sigh from me.
“I know you’re awake, baby,” he whispered in the dark room.
“I don’t like your job,” I blurted. Really, this wasn’t the time to be honest. Talking to him about heavy stuff might give him the ammo to break down another of my walls.
Confusion laced in his tone. “Why?”
Shut up, Phoebe, my brain shouted.
“It’s dangerous,” I pointed out inanely.
He already knew it was dangerous. He’d been working in dangerous fields for a while, from what little I knew.
“Your work isn’t?”
“I.... It....” I was at a loss for words. Hux wasn’t wrong. Our jobs weren’t exactly the same, but we both dabbled in dangerous situations. I stayed quiet, mainly because I didn’t want to admit he was right. Turning to face him, I gauged his emotions. He didn’t look angry, but he wasn’t the happiest person on the planet.
Huxley cupped my face and rubbed his thumb up and down the apple of my cheek. His touch was warm and inviting, and I couldn’t help but lean into it.
He moved in clo
ser and said, “We both have jobs that are dangerous. We both get ourselves in situations that a regular person wouldn’t. There is a difference though.”
I tried to move away. I didn’t want to talk about this anymore. I didn’t like it when he was right. He didn’t let me go, just held onto me and implored me with his eyes.
I caved, curiosity getting the best of me. “What’s the difference?” I snapped, irritated at his rightness.
“Difference is, I’m trained. I went to the police academy straight out of high school. Knew from a young age that I wanted to help people. I was just a beat cop for a few years, but during those years, I went to college at night. I knew I didn’t want to be a beat cop for the rest of my life. I wanted bigger things, knew I could do it, so I did. Got my bachelor’s degree in law and minored in psychology. When the time came to get a promotion, I declined. Went into the FBI and was an agent for a few years. See? I’ve had years of experience and I know what I’m doing. I spent all of my twenties with a gun in my hand.”
Somewhere in the middle of his story time, I became wrapped around him like a koala to a tree. He was lying on his side, my leg thrown over his thigh, my head in my hand. In the few days I had stayed at his place, or he at mine, we had never talked about him, because I knew if he opened up, he’d expect me to as well. The only reason I had that information was because that was all East Haven could talk about for the first three months after he moved in and set up shop. We were a small town and didn’t get many newcomers, tourists not included, so Huxley was fascinating to most.
I nodded, encouraging him to continue as I stared at his mouth and found myself stuck on how it formed every word he said. He really did have nice lips, and the scruff surrounding them made it even hotter.
“Your reasons for getting into this are completely different from mine. You seem to love helping people, which you hope your stories do, but that’s not the root of it.”
“You’re right,” I interjected. “I love writing.”
He gave me a look that said he wasn’t stupid. And if he wasn’t stupid and knew the real reason, then I didn’t want to talk anymore.
“I think story time is over,” I told him, unhooking my thigh from his hip and trying to roll over.
