Xavier (Men of Forbidden Temptation Book 5)

Chapter 5

A man gruntsas the front door bangs open. The sound of glass shattering and hitting the floor echoes in the empty restaurant.

My heart tries to pound its way out of my ribcage as my breathing becomes ragged.

My gaze moves around the kitchen in a panic. There’s nowhere to hide.

I could hide in the office. It’s across the other side of the kitchen and might take a while for him to get to me.

I shake my head at my stupid thought. No, that is too predictable. Everyone would look in the office first.

My gaze moves to the prep station along the darkened wall. There are boxes of supplies stacked underneath. If I am quiet, I can hide in the corner and scoot a box in front of me.

It’s not the greatest hiding spot, but I don’t think anyone would look there first.

Maybe it will give me enough time to call the police.

It might not be long enough for them to get here, though.

Not seeing any other option, I hide in the corner of the kitchen under the prep station and gently scoot the large box of plastic to go containers in front of me.

In the front of the restaurant where the dining tables and booths are, chairs scrape the floor as they are pushed to the side.

Is he looking for something, or is he trying to steal what little cash Uncle Zach keeps on hand?

The stranger’s footsteps pound on the floor as he gets closer.

I say a prayer and try to hold my breath despite my ragged breathing. It’s so quiet in here that any sound I make will alert him of my presence.

Even my deep breaths can be heard.

The overhead lights turn on, illuminating the kitchen. Even the dark corners bask in the light.

Sweat covers my palms.

I’m going to be found.

The man walks toward me, stopping when he sees the pie tin on the counter.

His boots are standard black combat boots that are used widely by the military and law enforcement. Dried concrete covers the sides and the toe, like he’s recently been in a construction zone.

I can see him clearly, but he doesn’t see me. I’ve never seen him in town before, so he must not be from here.

Did the storm bring him here so he can steal from businesses while everyone is hunkered down at home? Or is he here for something else?

He looks dangerous with his dark hair, dark eyes, and dark clothing.

It reminds me of him. The man from the bonfire.

The intruder’s boots squeak as he turns away from me and walks to the other side of the kitchen.

My breath hitches in my throat as the man suddenly stops and turns around. He’s facing me now, and I know any slight movement will give me away.

He cocks his head to the side as he listens for any noise.

I don’t know what he thinks he heard, but I don’t hear anything. Nothing and nobody, except for me and this intruder, are here.

It’s as quiet as an abandoned building.

When he is satisfied that he is alone, he turns away and heads into the office. A second later, the door slams shut.

I need to alert the police and Uncle Zach about this. I slowly reach into my pocket for my phone, but stop when several items crash to the floor in the office.

I don’t know what Uncle Zach keeps in his office, but I would imagine he keeps personal items like pictures as well as the restaurant’s financial books and logs.

Several more things shatter, and a loud thud vibrates the walls. Did he punch the wall?

A frustrated groan comes from the office a second before he yells, “I need the fucking password!”

The anger in his voice echoes through the air. Is he talking to himself or talking on the phone?

Either way, I need to get out of here as soon as possible and without being seen.

Is the intruder alone, or does he have someone outside watching for the police?

Is someone else coming here?

It’s now or never.

I take a deep breath and push the box to the side before inching my way out of my hiding spot. It’s a huge risk, being seen and caught, but I quietly make my way out of the kitchen to the front of the restaurant.

Wood and glass litter the floor foyer and chairs are askew, but I don’t have time to assess the damage. Uncle Zach and an insurance agent can do that later.

When I get to my new hiding location, I squat down and hide under the corner booth in the dark shadows.

It would be nearly impossible for someone to see me here. Unless they were already looking for me.

Car doors slam outside in the parking lot as a man yells, “Where are you, Everett?”

A second man yells, “We know you’re here somewhere. Your car is right outside.”

What the hell is going on? Who’s Everett and what do the two men want with him?

There’s more commotion in the back of the restaurant as the intruder opens the office door. His heavy footsteps get louder the closer he gets to the kitchen door before they get quieter.

He must be heading toward the back door to escape.

Did he hear the men yelling for him? It would be pretty hard not to. Their voices were louder than the angry waves and wind outside.

The door to the walk-in refrigerator softly squeaks as it’s opened.

What is he looking for? First, the office. Now, the refrigerator.

Or who is he looking for?

Is this related to Uncle Zach? Why else would they be here in his restaurant?

Or is this somehow related to me?

My body shakes.

It has to be me.

First, the attempted kidnapping. Second, being tailed by someone who tried to crash my car. Now, breaking and entering my uncle’s restaurant while I’m inside and my car is parked in the parking lot.

It’s too much of a coincidence. Too many things are revolving around me and my whereabouts in the past twenty or so hours.

Who are they?

What do they want with me?

Heavy footsteps echo through the busted front door as two new guys walk inside the restaurant.

All three men look alike with their longer dark hair, dark and dangerous eyes, and dark clothing.

These men are also wearing similar clothing down to the same concrete covered combat boots.

It’s clear they work together or are in some shady shit with one another.

They stop moving as soon as they get to the long counter that separates the dining room from the bar.

The shorter man of the two whispers something to the other man, but I can’t hear what is said because they are too far away.

That’s a good thing. The further away they are, the safer I am.

At least that’s what I tell myself, so I don’t have a panic attack.

The shorter man pulls out the corner stool and sits on it while the other man walks behind the bar and grabs a bottle of whiskey.

In the kitchen, something metal clangs to the floor.

All eyes turn toward the door leading to the kitchen as we wait to see what’s going to happen.

I should message Uncle Zach, Lieutenant, and Dad.

But I don’t get a chance because as soon as that thought crosses my mind, the kitchen door swings open and the first intruder, Everett, walks through the door.

He’s completely oblivious to the company that’s waiting for him. His smile fades, turning into a tight, thin line when his gaze lands on his counterparts.

The man holding the whiskey bottle unscrews the cap and takes a swig. “You were trying to cut us out of this deal, weren’t you?”

His eyes widen, and he shakes his head. “No, I wasn’t. I was just doing my own research.”

“Bullshit.” The man takes another swig before handing the bottle over to his friend.

The friend on the stool takes a few sips before saying, “I thought we were all in this together?”

Everett glances from one man to the other. “We are. All three of us, just like we said.”

The man behind the bar walks closer to Everett, not believing what he’s saying. “Then why didn’t you tell us you were coming here today?”

Everett leans against the bar. He might act cool, but he’s anything but cool right now. “Because I didn’t want it to be a waste of time or draw attention to us.”

The short man places the bottle on the bar before turning his entire body in Everett’s direction. “Did you find anything back there? It sounded like you made a hell of a mess.”

Everett seems to relax with the casual conversation, like three friends just hanging out and drinking. Not ones that committed crimes and are planning to do worse.

“No, nothing. Are you sure this man is even related to him? There aren’t any pictures of them together. His office looks like he’s a bachelor with no family.”

So this isn’t about Uncle Zach? Are they trying to dig up dirt on Dad?

Dad isn’t a saint, but he’s far from a criminal. He’s honest, caring, and loyal. He’s a great mayor and really cares about the community.

He puts together toy drives for the kids at Christmas and angel trees for the elderly.

He puts the town’s surplus into giving teachers and law enforcement raises while making sure the roads are in pristine condition.

When hurricanes hit, he does everything in his power to make sure everyone has a roof over their heads even if theirs is in ruins.

The man behind the bar moves until he is standing right next to Everett. “I’m sure.”

Everett takes a few steps back, so he isn’t boxed in. “Maybe they had a falling out and don’t speak to one another anymore.”

The other two men aren’t buying anything coming out of his mouth.

If this is about Dad, then Uncle Zach just got the short end of the stick because this mess is going to take forever to clean up, and there’s a hurricane coming, so time is of the essence.

Everett gestures toward the kitchen and the office. “There’s nothing here. I already tore the place apart and came up empty-handed.”

The man sitting at the bar grabs the bottle of whiskey and throws it toward Everett. It sails past his head and crashes into the wall behind him.

Glass and whiskey go everywhere.

“You’re a lying piece of shit!” He accuses Everett.

Everett shakes his head. “I’m not lying. Do you think I’d still be here if I found what I was looking for? Seriously, guys, this is insane. How about we go back to the warehouse and reassess everything?”

The man behind the bar glances toward the man sitting on the stool.

Simultaneously, they close the gap between them and Everett.

Everett must notice the change in his partners because his face loses all color as if the blood just drained from his face.

“Wait. You don’t want to do anything rash.”

The short man’s face morphs into something sinister. “This is exactly what we want to do. You cross us, we cross you.”

“I didn’t cross you. Please, let’s just continue working with each other. I think we are getting closer to finding the treasure.”

The man pulls a pistol from the waistband of his pants and aims it at Everett. “This is your last chance. Tell us where the treasure is.”

“I don’t know.” Tears form in Everett’s eyes as he realizes his partners are ruthless assholes.

“You’re lying, and you’re going to die for it.” The other man says, egging his partner on.

The man with the gun tightens his grip around the gun as his pointer finger moves to the trigger.

Clamping my eyes shut so I don’t see what is coming next, I hold my breath and say a prayer for Everett.

He might be a criminal, but no one deserves to die like this.

The blast of the gun going off echoes throughout the restaurant. No one speaks.

I crack open my eyes and watch as Everett’s lifeless body slumps to the ground.

Not in a million years would I ever imagine the argument would end with one man being shot.

I feel more confused than I was before the argument. There are more questions floating through my mind than answers, and the one man that could offer some insight is gone, bleeding out on the floor.

I press my hand to my mouth to keep from screaming.