Surrendering to His Siren (Silver Spoon Heroes)

Chapter Eleven

Emmett

" W here's Dillon?" I ask Easton, striding through the doors of the Sheriff's Office, impatient as hell.

"The closet he calls an office."

"Thanks," I snort in response, amusement sliding through me as I turn to head that way.

"The kid is with him."

I pause midstep, spinning around to face Easton. "What?"

"The kid," he repeats. "Nate."

"Fuck," I breathe, my eyes falling closed as relief rips through me. "Where did he find him?"

Easton strokes his chin, grimacing. "Didn't find him, man. The kid showed up here about an hour ago, demanding to talk to him."

"Jesus. Did he say where he's been?"

"Houston."

"What the fuck?"

"Dillon will explain it," he mutters, glancing back down at the stack of paperwork in his hands.

"What is that?"

"Criminal history on your guys."

I gape at him, shock running through me.

"The kid is smart as hell, man." He cuts his eyes down the hall toward Dillon's office. "I'll let them explain it, but yeah. We know who the pricks are now. I'm doing the paperwork to get warrants."

"Fuck," I murmur, drawing my first real breath in what feels like days. "Someone needs to let my crew know they can stop searching."

"No can do. Dillon doesn't want to spook them before we make a move." Easton jerks his chin that way. "He can explain. I've got shit to do here."

"Thanks," I call over my shoulder, already striding in that direction. I pause outside Dillon's office door long enough to rap my knuckles against the wood, but I don't wait for a response before pulling it open.

Dillon glances up from behind his desk, but I'm not worried about him. My eyes go directly to the kid—Nate. He's seated across from Dillon, his hands folded together across his stomach, his head tilted back. He looks exhausted. He tips his head forward, his eyes meeting mine.

"Jesus," I rumble, staring at him. He has his sister's eyes. Her nose, too. He's a big boy, at least 6'2" and built like a brick shithouse. No wonder the kid plays football. "Your sister has been worried as hell about you, kid."

Guilt flickers across his face. "I know," he murmurs, a regretful rasp in his voice. "But if I told her what I was doing, she would have tried to stop me. They tried to kill her." He swallows, his jaw pulsing. "I wasn't going to let them try again."

"What were you doing?"

"Come in and close the door," Dillon orders me.

I reluctantly step into the tiny office, shoving the door closed behind me.

"Nate, this is Emmett," Dillon drawls, eyes narrowed on me. "Emmett, this is Nate."

"I know who he is," Nate says. "He's been sleeping with my sister."

Well…fuck.

"I'm in love with your sister," I correct.

Nate grunts, his eyes locked on my face. "That better mean you're going to be good to her and take care of her because she deserves it."

"I will," I vow solemnly.

Nate eyes me for a long moment before jerking his chin in a nod. "Good," he finally says. "Keep her happy, and we'll be cool."

"How do you know about me and your sister?"

"Stopped by the house the other night," Nate mutters. "Your truck was out front."

"You were at the house?"

"I didn't come in," he says. "I just…wanted to check on her." Nate swallows, guilt flickering through his expression again. "I figured she was worried."

"Understatement," I growl.

Nate sighs heavily, glancing down at his lap. "I'd do it again," he whispers vehemently, looking up at me again. His eyes lock with mine. "She's given up everything to take care of me. I owed it to her to make sure she was safe."

"I appreciate that you want to take care of her," I say, scrubbing my hand through my hair. "But putting yourself in danger isn't the way to accomplish that, man. You think she'd be okay if she lost you?"

Nate's jaw pulses again.

"Tell him where you were, Nate," Dillon murmurs.

"Houston."

"Easton told me." I glance at Dillon and then back to Nate. "Why were you in Houston? And why the fuck was your backpack in the woods if you were in Houston?"

"My backpack was in the woods?" he asks, brows furrowed with confusion.

"You weren't out there?"

"No. I was at the track," he says. "That's where our dad hooked up with these two. I figured that was the best place to go to find out who they are and who they work for."

"Jesus." I rock back on my heels, stunned. The pricks were in their house. It's the only explanation. "You were at the racetrack?"

"I didn't go in. Obviously." He rolls his eyes exactly like his sister does. "But I asked around, kept an eye on things. Found a few people willing to talk." He shrugs. "Seemed like the best way to protect her was to figure out who we're dealing with."

"He's not wrong," Dillon mutters. "I've been asking the same fucking questions since you told me that Vincent owed money. Apparently, people are more willing to talk to a kid than they are the cops, though. He got the information they wouldn't give us."

"Who are they?" I growl.

"Alexei Palatov and Sergei Boyarin." Dillon meets my gaze. "Alexei has loose ties to the Russian mob."

"Fucking hell. Why are they in Texas?"

"Not sure," Dillon mutters. "But I'm guessing he's hiding out from his former Bratva buddies. Probably pissed in their cheerios."

"Arson and attempted murder isn't hiding out," I growl.

"Criminals don't learn new tricks, Emmett," Dillon snorts. "They may move locations, but they do the same shit as always. He set up shop at the racetrack to keep cash flowing into his coffers. And violence is the only form of cooperation pricks like him know."

I cut my eyes at Nate. "Did you see him at the track while you were there?"

Nate nods. "He showed up last night. Seemed angry about something. I got photos and then headed back here. Figured it was time to talk to Sheriff Armstrong."

"The backpack," I mutter, cursing. "I'm guessing they've been doing a little camping to lay low. We found their campsite." They probably intended to use the fucking backpack to lure Nina out if they couldn't get their hands on Nate. We blew up their plans when we stumbled across it.

"You did good, kid," Dillon says. "Not sure how I feel about you taking the risk you took, but you got a helluva lot of good intel."

"What's the plan?" I ask, leaning against the door with my arms crossed. That's the important question. What the fuck is he going to do with the information Nate managed to get? Because Alexei is still out there right now, and so long as he's out there, Nate and Nina aren't safe.

"Easton is working on getting warrants issued," Dillon mutters. "He's also coordinating with Houston to see if they can get eyes on the track. As soon as we know whether he's still there, they'll raid. In the meantime, we're going to keep up the search here, pretend we haven't found Nate. I don't want them running before we get to them."

"Good," I grunt, glancing at Nate. "Do you need anything else from him in the meantime? If not, he has someplace to be."

"Nah, I think we've got what we need." Dillon hesitates for a moment. "Keep him and Nina close until we raid, Emmett. Don't let either of them out of your sight. And keep him out of sight. I'll have a car out front until then to make sure no one shows up on the doorstep. You might consider moving them to your place, too."

I jerk my chin in a nod. I would have moved Nina to my place days ago, but there was no way she was leaving home when there was a chance of Nate showing up there. With him back, I'll definitely be moving them elsewhere until Alexei Palatov is dealt with.

"You ready to go talk to your sister?" I ask Nate.

He gulps and then nods, reluctantly climbing to his feet. Judging by the look in his eyes, this is one conversation he is not looking forward to having. Good. It'll do him good to look in her eyes and see exactly how upset she's been. Maybe he'll think twice about ever taking this kind of risk ever again.

Nate is quiet for the first part of the drive, watching me out of the corner of his eye. And then he sighs heavily, scrubbing his hands down the legs of his jeans. "You really love her, huh?"

"Yeah, I do." I'm not going to lie to him. He may only be seventeen, but if he's old enough to make adult decisions like putting his life at risk, he's old enough for the truth.

"You're the one who pulled her out of the fire, aren't you?"

I glance over at him as an SUV passes us.

"I was at football practice," he mutters. "I heard about the fire and went by the house, saw you guys out there. One of the neighbors said a firefighter pulled her out." He swallows, glancing out of the window. "I knew right then what happened. I was so fucking mad."

"So you decided to go to Houston?"

"I went to the hospital first," he whispers. "I made sure she was all right."

My eyes widen, surprise running through me. "She didn't mention that."

"She doesn't know. Um, I talked to one of the nurses." He sighs. "I knew if she saw me, she'd know what I was thinking. She'd try to talk me out of it. I didn't want her to talk me out of it."

"She was afraid you set the fire."

Nate laughs abruptly. "I'm not surprised. Honestly, I thought about it for about five minutes after we found the insurance paperwork, but I knew it'd upset her. She has—had—good memories in that house. Didn't want to destroy them. I'm not surprised they set it on fire, though."

"Me either," I mutter, glancing out of the rearview as the car behind us speeds up, riding my ass. I tap the brakes, warning them to back off. "Men like that are willing to do anything for a few dollars."

"Yeah." Nate scowls. "Nina doesn't really understand that, Emmett. She still sees the good in the world and in people. She thought she could convince them to take less than they were owed. It doesn't really work that way, though. Not for guys like them."

Jesus. It's…fucking sad that he understands at seventeen how the world works. He shouldn't. No kid should. But I admire the hell out of him for trying to protect his sister—his hero—from having her blinders ripped off. He loves her just as fiercely as she loves him.

"You were wrong about something back in Dillon's office."

He glances over at me.

"She didn't give up anything to take care of you," I murmur. "As far as she's concerned, raising you is the best thing she's ever done. She doesn't regret a minute of it. And you don't owe her a single thing for it. She got to keep her brother with her, the one person in this world she loves more than anything. That wasn't a sacrifice for her, Nate. Never think it was."

He swallows hard, his eyes bright in the dim light. "Thanks, man," he rasps. "Maybe you will be good enough for her."

I chuckle quietly. "I sure as hell intend to be. And I'm guessing you'll help make sure of it."

"Fuck ye–"

The car behind us slams into us out of nowhere, jolting us forward.

"Shit," I growl as Nate pitches forward. "Hang on." I grip the steering wheel, trying to keep the truck on the road as the car behind us bumps us again.

"What the fuck are they doing?" Nate asks, turning to peer behind us.

"Sit down!" I order him. "Keep your seatbelt on tight. If you can reach my phone, call 911."

He immediately drops back down in the seat, snatching my phone up to call for help. I split my attention between the road and the car behind us, trying to get a look at the driver, but with their headlights blaring, they might as well be invisible. I have a good idea who it is, though.

Alexei fucking Palatov.

He speeds up, pulling up beside the truck.

I grit my teeth, growling a curse as he rams into the side of us, trying to force us off the roadway. We split apart for a brief second before he rams us again.

I glance at the road ahead and notice the small tree growing off by itself. My mind races as I try to make a decision.

Fucking hell. Nina is going to kill me.

"We're hitting that tree," I growl at Nate, explaining as quickly as I can. "I need you to stay in your seat and brace for impact."

He glances at me with wide eyes.

"It'll be okay," I promise, praying like hell it's one I can keep. But it's either hit the goddamn tree or risk this motherfucker causing an accident I can't control, potentially one that kills us or an innocent passerby.

"Do it," Nate growls, reaching for the handle over the door to brace himself.

I let off the gas and pump the brakes, steering away from the car.

The tree rushes up to meet us far faster than I anticipated.

We slam into it, metal shrieking and glass shattering.