Axel Wulf: A Romance Crime Action Thriller

Chapter 13

It’s better to be a wolf for a day than a sheep all your life.

Gwen

Hours before dawn, Bear and I move to Axel’s king-sized bed. Under the dog’s watchful eye, I sketch the suited man until my lids grow heavy. I must drift off to sleep because a chorus of chirping sparrows, cooing pigeons, and a whining canine wake me.

“I guess we were tired, after all.” To my right, the silver-haired man stretches, yawns, and softens his gaze.

As an adorable dimple puckers in his left cheek, images of his mouth on my clit cloud my mind, and I smile back. Sliding my fingers through his silver hair, I wish like hell he had a condom.

A mind-reader, he kisses me and lowers his voice to a sexy whisper. “Later. I promise… It’s late. We should leave.”

Yawning, he kicks off the blankets, rises, grabs a leash, and attaches it to his dog. “C’mon, pal.”

Before they exit, I point to his t-shirt. “When we get to Rehoboth, can we swing by my place for clothes?”

“Yeah. Google Maps says it”ll take three hours. I’ll drop Bear off at doggy daycare and be right back.”

“Works for me. Bye.” Left with a few minutes to myself, I jump in his shower.

Imagining his hands on me, I rub his woodsy soft soap all over my hyper-sensitive body and rinse. Refreshed, I towel dry, dress in my damp, hand-washed clothes, and borrow his toothbrush.

Once I detangle my hair, I twist the length into a ponytail and rush to where he waits by the door.

“Sorry, I’m late.” Feeling more human than I have in days, I follow him to the elevator.

On the sidewalk, a headache hits me like a bullet to the brain and sends me to my knees. I swallow back bile, ignore the debilitating pain and point to the van across the street.

“Axel, over there.”

Face contorted, Wulf crawls on his belly in the opposite direction toward a man in the bushes who may already be dead.

Placing a finger on the guy’s neck, he shouts through gritted teeth. “Call nine-one-one.”

Barely able to move, I struggle to open my purse and moan at my device’s screen. “No bars.”

“Shit.” On all fours, as if fighting a hurricane-force wind, he pulls a pistol from under his jacket, slithers across the pavement to a local TV station’s van, and fires.

The parabolic device on the roof sparks, sizzles, and falls to the ground. Before it smashes to pieces, the engine roars, tires squeal, and the vehicle disappears down the road.

Noting the 5G bars, I call for help, and the operator picks up. “Nine-one-one. What’s your emergency?”

Like I did with Henry, I mention a man down and hold back the rest. Once the ambulance and cops depart, Wulf updates his team. Done, he puts his arm around my waist and ushers me to his car.

“We need to get moving.”

My pulse rate doesn’t return to normal until corn fields replace concrete. For the hundredth time, I check out the back window. “How can you be sure no one is following us?”

“My team is tracking us via satellite. Relax. We’re safe.”

But for how long? “Why did those men try to kill us?”

“What do you think, sweetheart?” Glancing over the cupholder, he white knuckles the wheel.

Deep in thought, my head shakes back and forth. “I swear, if I knew, I’d tell you.” There are a lot of reasons. Exactly which one? I can’t be sure.

His frown indicates that he disapproves of my answer, and we spend most of the drive in silence.

Once we arrive at the hospital’s front desk, he flashes his badge. From there, a red line leads us to the elevator. Instead of up, he pushes the down button.

In the basement, he points to the sign marked surgery. “This way.”

“What happened? Did his heart give out?” As I start to freak, Wulf grabs my shoulder and turns me to face him.

“Calm yourself. We put him underground as a precautionary measure.”

Face grim, the federal agent leads us past the double doors marked oncology, recovery, and orthopedic. Finally, he stops at a seated police officer.

Rushing by, I race to the bed, lean over the railing, and hug my bestie. “Hey Henry, mind if I come in?”

“Gwen? Thank God you’re alright. They won’t tell me shit. Does my family know I’m here?” When he lets me go, I’m more confused than ever. Is he under some kind of secret hospital arrest?

“I told Callie, and she called your grandmother. They didn’t tell you?”

Girl, you are in trouble. While my Beyoncé Angel fires off a warning, Henry shakes his head no.

“The doctor said I had a heart attack. Can you believe it? I know I’m a little heavy, but I’m only twenty-five.”

“What do you remember?” For the hundredth time, I wonder if I had imagined the weapon. It happened so fast, and as Farid likes to say, I do have a vivid imagination.

My coworker’s mocha-brown face scrunches up, and his eyes close. “I went outside for air. That’s it. Everything else is blank.”

Axel leans against the doorframe to my right, his face an unreadable wall.

Because of him, I ask again. “Nothing at all?”

“No. Why?” As Henry’s brows raise, I open my mouth to explain the EMF weapon, then stop when Wulf puts his finger to his lips.

“No reason.” Rats, I was hoping my friend could corroborate my story. Now, I have no other witness other than a dog.

Sensing my mood change, Henry grabs my hand. “They told me a woman saved me. Was that you?”

“Yeah. I was the first one on the scene. A jogger on the beach helped me administer CPR. Then, a doctor arrived and shocked you with a defibrillator.” Tears blurring my vision, I lean over and hug him. “I am so glad you’re alive.”

“Me, too. I guess I should’ve taken your advice and eaten a little healthier.” At his rueful smile, I grin and hope some good can come from his ordeal.

“Perhaps you could occasionally walk in the sunlight and eat a few carrot sticks?”

“I will. Jeesh, this was a real wake-up call.” As he lifts to sit up higher, I bend over his bed and lower my voice.

“I know we’re not supposed to share our passwords, but Callie wants to download your code, and you haven’t checked anything in for over a week.” An infraction like that could get him fired, and now, more than ever, he needs his healthcare package.

“Go to my hotel room and get my laptop. I’ll do it from here.” In the past, he’d have no problem sharing his credentials. No doubt he noticed the wolf in the doorway.

I hiss for his ears only, “The team’s gone into lockdown. They’ve taken away our remote access.”

The steady bleep-bleep of the heart monitor accelerates, and an alarm goes off from the tower of devices beside the bed.

A nurse in sailboat scrubs races in and shoos me to the door. “Enough talking, Miss, Mr. Rickard needs his rest.”

“Favorite song, person, flavor, number.” Henry’s rapid chant echoes down the hall. “You’ll find my work in the regular folder.”

“What was that all about?” The terse tone tells me Axel is still pissed, but I’m doing the best I can.

“It’s a game. These are a few of my favorite things? Like in The Sound of Music?” To me, the lie sounds plausible enough, but Wulf grunts.

“It sounds more like Jeopardy.”

Holding up a virtual index card, I mimic Alex Trebek. “And the question is, ‘What is my username and password?’”

I’m fucking hilarious, so why isn’t he smiling?

A bit later, in the car, Axel narrows his gaze at me over the cupholder. “I had my men stop by your rental and pick up some items. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Do you suppose they packed my battery-operated boyfriend? It was next to my mattress on the bedstand.” As I intended, his grimace changes to a sexy grin.

“You won’t need Bob anymore.” Reminded of yesterday, a jolt of electricity zaps to my clit.

“Well, he’s going to be jealous.” My panties dampen, and as I squirm, he smirks, then returns his focus to the morning traffic.

In the silence, I reflect on the mysterious, suited man on the beach. Why use a prototype weapon to shoot Henry if any off-the-street pistol would suffice? Is someone extorting him, too? Are the arms dealers trying to send me a message? Hell, anything is possible.

On the highway heading back to DC, Wulf asks, “Your friend’s heart rate spiked. What were you whispering about?”

“We’re not supposed to share our passwords.” Worried he might suspect my plan, I suck in my upper lip.

My driver’s scowl returns. “Ahh.”

Now, what the hell is that supposed to mean? As I’m about to ask, an asshole going twice the speed limit cuts him off.

My hands shoot to the dashboard, and I brace for impact while my nonplussed driver veers into the other lane and misses cars by inches.

A mile down the road later, he raises his brows. “Are you alright?”

God, no. His expertise behind the wheel has me hot and bothered. Again.

To pass the time and ignore his sex-tacular body, I open my laptop and create a program to determine Henry’s password. By the time we pull into the lab’s parking lot, I have it finished.

Outside, a cool wind blows from the east. After I grab a sweater from my suitcase, I walk across the empty parking lot toward the concrete block building.

My heart aches as I flash my fob in front of the access panel to the right of the door. I’ve dedicated my life to this place, and soon, my time may end. If only I had been smarter, perhaps my enemy would never have noticed I fed him misinformation.

After I press my eye socket against the retina scanner, I state my password. “Mufferpants allopanony my-bobberoo.”

Wulf’s eyebrows raise, and despite enormous efforts not to, he breaks into a smile.

Grinning back, I explain, “Non-dictionary words make it harder for hackers to break into our network.”

Inside, I open the electric panel, switch on the overhead lights, and walk toward the wall of gray fabric cubicles. When I reach the third from the left, I plug in my laptop and run my new program.

I don’t bother to explain. If Mr. Nosy wants to know, he’ll ask. However, if I’m going to get any work done, his hovering must stop.

“Please sit. This could take a few.”

“Minutes or hours?” He grabs a chair and squishes his thigh to mine.

“Not sure. Coffee?” With all my lady parts on fire, I jump up.

“Sure.” Placing his hand on my lower back, he follows me into the kitchen.

While I reach for the pods in the upper cabinet, he presses his chest to my back, wraps his arms around my waist, and bites my earlobe.

Talk about mixed messages. What does he want from me?

When his coarse beard rubs against my face, I turn, raise my arms, and run my fingers through his hair.

“I thought you were angry.” My voice comes out as a hoarse whisper.

“I am, but that doesn’t stop me from wanting you.” As his mouth crashes down on mine, pent-up passion rises to the surface, and I kiss him back.

His hands slide under my shirt and bra. Once he lifts the stretchy fabric, he possesses my breasts until I’m on the brink of orgasmic splendor.

“Did you ask your FBI elf to buy condoms?”

Before he can answer, my computer dings.

“Shit.” He groans, kisses the tip of my hardened nipples, and strolls back to my laptop. Without waiting for my agreement, he snatches the keyboard and types at a spellbinding speed.

“Holy shit, strong, sexy, and nerdy? I think I just orgasmed.”

Not missing a beat, he continues his search. “Don’t use them up. I have plans for later.”

Already at Henry’s home screen, he opens the browser history and pauses at an online purchase.

My heart races as I stand behind the chair, lean in, and gasp. “Oh my God. He bought over a dozen burner phones? What the fuck?”

“Give me a moment.” Wulf picks up his phone, punches ten numbers, and asks for Henry.

A minute later, he hangs up. “Your friend won’t take my call.”

That’s so unlike him. “Can you have someone check on his family? What if someone has been threatening them, like my Abbie?”

Wulf nods, presses speed dial, and gazes at me while he hits the speaker icon. “Hey Lucky, did you ever contact Henry’s grandmother?”

My boss’s husband sounds stressed. “Yeah, I did, and she said the kid’s been acting strange, calling at all hours to keep tabs on her. The feisty old bird also mentioned she’s perfectly fine, and I was to tell him so.”

My eyes widen. I thought I was the only one being threatened. Crap. My whole project plan was flawed from the start.

While I bite my upper lip, a text message pings on my phone.

Unknown: We told you not to talk.

Like before, the message disappears. As I heave a sigh of relief, a video pops up, and I gasp. “No, no, no.”

A camera focuses on my little girl’s red, swollen face, and she screams, “I want my mommy.”

“They have Abbie.” Unable to tear my eyes away, I swallow hard and share my screen.

As Wulf watches behind my shoulder, a prison-tatted hand grabs her wrist, spreads out her fingers on a wooden plank, and raises a knife.

My chest constricts, my heart hammers, and I start shaking. “Don’t do it!”

The blade snaps down, and as her pinkie finger falls away, I drop the phone, too horrified to view more.

Wailing, I lower to the carpet, cradle my thighs to my chest, and rock while I sob. “They hurt her. Oh my God.”

“Hold it together, babe.” Axel pulls me to my feet, makes a call, then asks, “The little girl? Is she still safe?”

A calm male voice responds. “Yessir. Playing in the pool in the backyard without a care in the world. Cute k-”

“Zoom in on her and share the image.” Wulf shoves a picture of my unharmed daughter in my face.

Unsure who to believe, I call my ex. “Let me talk to Abbie.”

Farid sighs as if I’ve asked for the impossible. “She’s happy. Why can’t you leave her alone?” He hangs up and won’t pick up when I redial.

It”s time to ditch my project plan and make a new one.

Giving up, I turn to Wulf. “If you take me to see my little girl, I will tell you everything you want to know.”