To Catch A Rook (All The Queen’s Men #1)

26. Chapter 23 – Hillary

S omething was very wrong in the universe tonight.

My pumps had worn a circular track in the grooves of the wooden plank floor, as I tried to ease the riotous energy working its way into my bones.

I wasn’t a spiritual person. I didn’t believe in a higher power orchestrating my every move or that we were destined to follow certain paths. The nature versus nurture philosophy was the one I most subscribed to; had I been born into a humble home on the other side of the planet, I would not be who I was today—full stop .

Circumstances and choices, that’s what built our mountain of opportunities and molded our destinies.

Yet I couldn’t control the adrenaline coursing through my system tonight, as if my subconscious was fighting for its own life against a torrent of invisible forces.

Aaron hadn’t called today. He had failed to put my heightened senses at ease after yesterday’s tryst in his office, and his absence had taken up space in my thoughts all day.

I’d slept with Aaron many times; countless times; but the connection we’d shared on his office carpet yesterday had been different. It was raw; a level of vulnerability we’d never shared before. An awakening.

He hadn’t called me today, just as he didn’t stay to have breakfast with me. Aaron always had a reason that was really an excuse, but today’s absence held a dark undercurrent.

When I received the text, the simple message with the words ‘ Te amo, Mi Reina, ’ I knew he was in trouble; permanent, irrevocable trouble.

I stormed to the small closet on the other side of my office, grabbed a tracksuit and a pair of sneakers, and headed into the attached washroom to dress.

“Siri, call Blackbird,” I barked to my phone on the vanity, and pulled the tight leggings on over my calves.

I rarely called her late at night, only in an emergency; thousands of years of evolved hind-brain biology was telling me this qualified as one.

“What’s up, boss?”

I yanked the dark tank over my head.

“Can you track Aaron’s phone for me?”

Unlike Kellan, I rarely checked on Aaron. His whereabouts were predictable and monotonous, rarely warranting a second glance. But I still had Blackbird hack into his GPS years ago as a ‘just in case.’

I ’d debate my status as a control freak later.

“Sure.”

Muffled sounds and the clacks of a keyboard filled my speakers in the absence of words. Thank the universe she’d been at home when I called. Someone else might have been out late on a Tuesday night.

“His phone is at that warehouse in the Crocks. Do you want the address?”

“Yes!” I spit out, zipping up my hoodie and pulling on my trainers.

“Sending now. Oh”—I winced as the shuffle of her phone screeched like nails on a chalkboard in the echoing space—“this is interesting. Kellan’s signature is there with him.”

I froze my frantic ministrations to get my clothes on.

What in the actual fuck?

Kellan and Aaron didn’t play in the same sandbox—ever. Their only connection was their involvement with Antonio’s—

Shit.

I didn’t have the clairvoyance to understand what was going on, but if Kellan was involved in official Cartel business, this was very, very bad.

“Thanks!” I grabbed the phone and hung up without explanation. Grabbing my keys on the hook by my desk, I raced out the door.

No Joey this time. My Jaguar was parked in the garage below in case I needed to get somewhere in a hurry.

This qualified.

I took the concrete stairs in the emergency stairwell two at a time, urgency licking at my heels like a broiling fire. I couldn’t explain the fear making my heart pound nearly out of my chest, but it was there, thrumming like a war drum before the final battle.

The night was eerily dark, cloud cover erasing all evidence of a moon and stars above. I barreled through our city s treets with no thought for traffic rules; fortunately, this part of Carlisle completely shut down after eight pm, so I had little competition as I changed lanes like I belonged in a street race.

It took far too long to get to my destination. When I pulled into the parking lot, I caught sight of Aaron’s black Mercedes—the car he drove when Jacques wasn’t around. Another vehicle, a blue Jeep I didn’t recognize, was parked alongside it.

I parked on its opposite side and took one brief moment to catch my bearings. I had no idea who might be in there, what they were doing, or how armed they were. It would be stupid for me to run in empty-handed.

I pulled the dainty handgun out of my glove department. I despised guns, but taking a knife to a gunfight was a stupid move, bound to get me killed. I was a skilled fighter, but I wasn’t faster than a bullet.

My phone vibrated against my stomach; I hurriedly pulled it out of my pocket in case it was Blackbird with more information, but it was only Lucky.

He had been trying to get hold of me all evening, but I’d ignored him. I left him on read, again. Our game wasn’t important tonight–not when the tangible fear of something amiss was slicing through my insides.

With an impatient sense of caution, I slipped out of the vehicle and pressed myself against the wall of the building. I shuffled along to the large metal entrance door. It hung ajar the tiniest sliver, allowing me to peek into the inside.

Two men circled each other like wary prey, blood trickling from their knuckles, grim determination on their faces.

My two men. Aaron took Kellan’s punch, and blood sprayed from his face along with an echoing grunt of pain.

I c ouldn’t see anyone else from my vantage point, and I couldn’t stand by while these insufferable asshats beat each other to death.

I kicked in the door with a flourish, raised my gun in front of my face, and conducted a quick perimeter check.

We were alone. Neither man turned to look at me, too lost in their caveman dance to notice my presence.

I watched in horror as Aaron got in a hit; Kellan grunted and fell to his knees at the gut punch, but then, he caught Aaron right in the solar plexus, dropping him to the ground. He rolled on top of Aaron’s wheezing form, and raised a fist to pound his face.

I couldn’t think—couldn’t breathe—so I shot instead.

The crack of the bullet rocketed through the empty space like a sonic boom and it wedged into a steel beam on the other side of the room. Two haunted gazes turned to look at me in shock.

“What in the ever-loving fuck are you doing here?”

The first to recover his voice, Kellan’s icy gaze was furious as he stared at the gun in my hand. An angled gash bled over his right eyelid, leaving a streak of blood down his cheek that clumped into the light hair of his beard. The raw skin of his fists was a stark contrast to his black clothing.

“You should not be here, Mi Reina ,” Aaron said from his battered position on the ground. “We have not settled this dispute yet.”

I stared at him in frustrated disbelief before leveling my gun on Kellan’s wrathful face. “Excuse me? What the fuck are you doing here? Why the fuck are you trying to kill each other?”

My voice escalated from delivering a simple question to an incensed shriek. In any other circumstance, I would pride myself on staying calm and kept my emotions beneath the surface, disallowing any vulnerability to show. I’d bury any sign of weakness to maintain my powerful persona.

All of my training and hard-won skill at negotiation had escaped through the crack in the metal door.

Watching the two of them intentionally trying to destroy each other broke something in me. I wasn’t leaving here without the two of them intact, or they could put me in a body bag too.

I had no suicidal impulses, so that definitely wouldn’t be happening tonight.

“How did you know we were here?” Aaron’s ragged voice posed the question, but Kellan answered it.

“She tracks us.” His grunt held the severe tone of displeasure. “You have some serious control issues, Killer.”

I cocked the gun and gestured for Kellan to move away from Aaron’s limp body. “Get away from him. And somebody better fucking tell me what this is about. Now .”

Aaron’s sigh broke through bloodied, swollen lips.

“Kellan is delivering justice,” he said simply, wincing as he rolled his body to the side and pushed himself into a seated position. “My parents have failed Antonio, and I must pay the price.”

“Are you fucking serious?”

My stunned expression morphed into a raging glare at the hulking Viking drenched in scrapes and still on his knees.

“What the fuck, Kellan?”

A flicker of remorse rippled through his stare, but then it was gone.

“Just kill me and get it over with, Hillary. That’s the easiest way out for me. I follow orders or I’m the one who dies. I gave Aaron a choice, and he chose a fair fight.”

I stepped back, stunned at his dispassionate declaration. “You think I’m going to kill you? Not a chance. But I will give you a fair fight.”

I dropped the gun, flinching at the finality of the thunk on the plywood floor. I swept my hair up into a ponytail, then s hrugged off my sweater and turned to face the two men with a renewed sense of purpose.

“You wanted a fair fight, Viking? I’m tapping in for Aaron. You can fight me.”

My blond god blinked rapidly before shaking his head in vehemence. “Not a fucking chance, Hill.”

“No.” I held up a finger, the finality in my tone brooking no arguments. “One more hit to the head, and he’ll be out. Look at him.” I swept my arm out like Vanna White at the mound of brutalized flesh that was Aaron Rodriguez. “I’m trained, and you’re tired. I can’t think of a fairer fight.”

“No.” Kellan’s growl reverberated through me; Aaron’s matching protest settled under my skin, but I held my ground.

“If I win, I won’t kill you, and the three of us can figure out what our next steps are together.” I blew out a breath and stared into the frosted pools of my lover’s eyes, imploring him to see the truth.

“If either of you dies, Kellan, I might as well be dead too.” I walked toward him, daring to rest my palms on his shoulders as his relentless, angry eyes glared up at me. “I refuse to let either of you go for the shitty decisions of your parents. Fight me.”

I couldn’t break eye contact, but I reached out my hand blindly for Aaron’s, needing his solidarity as I stood for his salvation. He was close to death, and if he refused me now …

Relief flooded through me when his palm slid against mine, interlocking our fingers and squeezing gently.

“I do not want this for you,” Aaron wheezed, “but I can never refuse you, Mi Reina . Kellan will not kill you.”

“No, I won’t,” Kellan bit out angrily, his voice lanced with venomous ire. “But if this is how she chooses to stop this, I’ll play the game. A fair fight, Killer.”

He rose from his knees and held out his hand. I released Aaron and shook Kellan’s calloused palm, gripping it fiercely in an attempt to relay everything my mouth couldn’t say.

I care for you. I care for him. This isn’t the way out. We can be allies; partners; friends.

I would prove it to him. With fists, kicks, and Krav Maga t ricks.

“May the best woman win.”