Affair (The Hunter Mercenary #15)

Chapter One

The UK

Duke Of Gordon’s Estate

Present Time

One Month Later

I t was a gorgeous day, and there was one thing that Duke Liam Seville enjoyed more than anything in the whole world. It was a day with the horses. There was something cathartic about it.

If it were up to him, he’d spend all of his time in the barn, running them in the fields, and being in their company. They just gave him that calming energy that the turbulent times in his life threw at him.

When his son was killed in war, the only reason he’d survived it was the horses. He and his wife had been decimated, and with Poe in another country, they had been able to find that calmness through their most cherished pets.

They were like children to him.

All.

Of.

Them.

There was a connection there that would always be strong, until the day that he died.

For him, horses were wise animals, and more compassionate than any humans he ever knew.

Well, with the exception of his sons and wife. They were sweet, gentle humans, and that was why they related to horses.

You could always tell a horse person when you met them. They just had an energy about them.

That energy was something they obtained by being surrounded by the majestic beasts.

He was blessed, and he knew it.

Too many people didn’t get to have this kind of a day relaxing in the breeze.

Today, he was out with his wife, riding, and they were so enjoying the day. It was gorgeous out, and both horses were giving them a tour around the estate.

He was letting them roam, and just going around for the ride.

“It is so lovely out, my love,” he said, smiling at his wife. “Don’t you agree?”

Penelope Seville did agree.

In fact, the air was crisp, the sky was blue, and there wasn’t a better day to be out riding than this. It was what one might call a perfect day.

That was for sure.

The only thing that might make it a bit better was if they actually had their other son here. He hadn’t been back for a while. It had been three years since his brother died that he returned, had gotten some things, and then left again.

Sometimes, she doubted that he’d be back ever again. He’d become more of an American than a Duke’s son—which was fine, since she wanted her boy to find his own way. She just didn’t expect it to be this far from them.

Granted, being here hurt Poe, and she knew that once Hemmingway had died in that terrible helicopter crash, that his life had been changed.

All of their lives had been.

Now, she was curious.

“Have you heard from Poe,” she asked, as they trotted along, Liam on a chestnut mare, and her on a white gelding.

The man already knew what his wife was going to ask. Their jaunts around the estate were often filled with conversations regarding Poe.

Their prodigal son.

“I did, actually, my love. I spoke to him last night,” he said. “I was thinking about him. He’s been quiet as of late, and I was worried about him. So, I dialed him up to make sure he was doing okay. He’s working with a soldier, apparently, to help him get better.”

She sighed.

“He’s a therapist, dear, what exactly is he going to get into trouble doing?”

That was a good question.

Hemmingway had been the wild child, climbing trees, raising hell, and making sure to keep them on their toes. Poe, on the other hand, had been their scholarly child.

He was always impressed with his intelligence.

Liam was to the point.

“I don’t know. I just worry that he’ll fall into work, and not have any fun. Life is too short not to enjoy it. You know how Poe is. We have plenty of money that he could have an easy life, but he claims he has his life’s work.”

Penelope reassured him.

“He’s a smart man, and he is well aware of the preciousness of life. I think he gets involved in work to forget about Hemmingway. I think we all do. It’s like you and the horses. You use them to forget.”

The man nodded.

That was for sure.

Losing a child…

It took a few years to be able to not weep when his name was brought up in their social circles. It took a long time to stop dreaming about him.

Hemmingway haunted them, mostly because as parents, they couldn’t save him when he needed them most. The only solace was that he died doing what he loved most.

Still, if they could go back in time, they’d change everything and make him more like his brother.

It wasn’t that they weren’t proud of him, but burying their highly decorated soldier…

It was crushing.

He’d never forget the day that he was told that the helicopter that he’d been flying was downed by the enemy. It was still just as fresh in his memories as the day it happened.

It traumatized them.

The worst part was having to go to the States to tell Poe. That wasn’t something you did over the phone, and going there and knocking on his door.

He knew immediately.

The family of soldiers always knew.

ALWAYS.

“Well, his grave is set for the winter, and the horses and I spent some time there,” Liam admitted. “As for our other son, he’s deep in the bowels of work. Nothing will change that. It’s like he’s hiding away so he doesn’t have to experience hurt like losing Hemmingway again.”

Penelope wasn’t shocked.

That was Poe to his core.

Her youngest boy, by three minutes, was a sweet child, acutely aware of people’s feelings. He was very empathic, and cared so much.

“Did you mention that he was helping someone?” she asked, as they navigated the trail back to the barn.

Liam nodded.

“Apparently, he’s working on a special soldier. He said he couldn’t discuss much, but he did say ‘he’s special, and we’ve almost healed the damage’ ,” he offered. “I wish he’d work on his own trauma of losing his twin.”

Penelope felt the same.

“Well, he’s a good man,” she admitted. “I just wish he’d settle down and be happy. Surely, Liam, there’s a family here with a woman who needs a husband. You’re a Duke. Can’t we find him someone of equal stature, and have him come home? We have soldiers too. He could work here and be close to his family.”

Liam shook his head.

“Penny, you know that we aren’t going to arrange a marriage. Poe is an adult, and I don’t think he wants to marry. Let alone, a lady,” he said.

She sighed.

Oh, she was well aware.

To that day, she’d never seen him with a woman, or heard him mention one. It was crystal clear that she wasn’t going to be getting any grandchildren.

The Seville gene pool was coming to an end.

“Please tell me he outgrew that silly fascination with boys,” she said. “When we sent him to that boarding school, I knew we were making a mistake. He came home gay.”

Liam clued her in.

“I’m pretty sure, Penny, that you don’t ‘make someone gay’ . I think he was just born that way, and I respect that. If we didn’t keep trying to shove women at him his whole young life, he may have come home after university in the States. Now, he has space, and privacy. We made a mistake trying to ‘fix’ him.”

She tsked.

“We were doing the best we could. He’s my only child now. I miss him. I only want what’s best for him. I’d be perfectly happy if he found a nice gentleman and came home. Gay or not, I just want to see him more.”

Liam slowed his horse down, so they were side by side. He knew something that would cheer his beloved Penelope up.

“We should take a trip. Why don’t we plan on making a visit? We can stay with him. He said he’s only got a few days left of therapy with this special soldier. Would you like to surprise him?” he asked.

That she did.

Immediately, Penelope smiled.

“Like to? I’d love to, Liam,” she admitted, happily. “I can’t wait to see his face when we show up. Hopefully, he’s not moved some man into his home.”

Liam stopped that.

“Penny, your uncle was gay. I don’t care if our son is gay, or if he has a lover. As long as Poe is happy, safe, and lives a long life, that’s all that matters. As for you, don’t be so cunt-ish.”

She laughed.

That did sound cunt-ish, didn’t it?

“You have a point, my love,” she said. “I just can’t help but want to protect him. The last time he was here, he took some things home, and I worry. I don’t think it’s healthy to stare at your dead brother’s things in your home. Poe needs to live. Hemmingway would want him to. Life goes on, even when we don’t want it to. Death isn’t the end. It’s a new beginning.”

He reminded her.

“Penelope, they were twins. They grew together in you, and they were as thick as thieves as children. We will never understand the ache that Poe felt when his brother was killed. That’s not something we can feel. For us, it was as parents. For him, though, it’s as if he lost half of himself. He can’t have his brother in his life, and I’m sure he does battle with that daily.”

She understood.

And agreed.

“You’re absolutely right, my dear. I need to not be that mother. If he brings home a fine gentleman, I’ll be just as happy. I did hope we’d be grandparents one day. That ruffles my feathers a bit. I do love an itty-bitty baby.”

He soothed her.

If not, Penelope would be making Poe, and himself, insane.

No one wanted that.

NO.

ONE.

“You need to do something to keep yourself busy.”

Likely.

Life was moving slowly, as of late, and she needed a little bit of an adventure.

“What do you have in mind?” she asked.

Liam went there.

“I know you love the horses, but how about some charity of sorts? The King has some organizations that he favors. Maybe we can get on a committee, and we can do it in honor of Hemmingway. We’re off from our holiday in a few days. We’ll arrange something then.”

She bounced in the saddle.

“Jolly good idea! I would love to be involved in something. Now, I almost wish our holiday was over.”

He laughed.

Penelope beamed at him.

“My love, you’re so smart. What would I do without you?” she asked.

He winked.

“You’d have all the other Dukes chasing you around to win your hand in marriage. Who are we kidding, Penelope? You were a catch then, and now.”

She covered her mouth with her fingers as she laughed.

“Never. There could only be that dashing barrister that caught my eye all of those years ago. I’m ever so glad I married him, and we have the life we have. I can’t wait to get even older with you, my love.”

He blew her a kiss.

“Likewise, my sweet. Likewise,” he offered, seeing that their ride was done for the day.

As they continued toward the stables, the grounds were relatively silent.

Honestly, that was odd.

At this time of the day, the stable boys and the groundskeepers would be wandering around. There should be sounds of horses, and chaos.

What was going on?

As they both dismounted their horses, they led them into the barn, and that’s when they saw it.

Their stable boy was lying on the ground in a puddle of blood.

As Liam headed toward him, thinking he was hurt by one of the wilder horses, he stopped as soon as he saw the bullet hole.

That’s when he knew.

This was not good.

“Penny, run,” he said, but it was already too late for his wife.

When he turned around, his wife was being held against some man in a ski mask and there was a gun to her head.

Liam didn’t know what the hell was going on, but he was about to find out.

“Let her go,” he said, as two men dressed similarly left a stall.

“Where is it?” the one said, as he carried a large firearm in his hands.

That was what caused the most alarm in Liam. Guns here weren’t as common as in the Americas. Oh, people had guns, but they were mostly wealthy collectors.

This looked to be more like a military gun.

“Where is what, and exactly why are you here holding my wife and me at gunpoint?” he asked, angrily.

The man got closer.

“Your son has something of ours.”

He was confused.

What could his son possibly have to do with these ruffians and their guns?

“My son? Poe?” he asked.

That angered the man.

He pistol-whipped him, and his head nearly spun off his shoulders as he landed on the ground from the brutal assault to his head.

“LIAM!” Penny shouted, and the man holding her clocked her in the head too with the gun to shut her up.

Not that it mattered.

Everyone was dead on the estate.

EVERYONE.

No one was calling the police, or coming to help these two. It was very helpful that they’d gone on a long ride that morning, so they could handle all the live-in staff.

The man moaned from the ground, blood on his face from where he’d been struck.

“Don’t fuck with me,” the masked man warned.

Liam shook his head, trying to refocus. His ears were ringing now.

The brute spoke.

“Like I said, your son. I don’t know who the fuck Poe is, but we are talking about Hemmingway. He has something of ours, and my boss wants it back.”

Liam spit blood onto the ground, and couldn’t imagine what this was all about.

“My son, Hemmingway, has been deceased for a number of years. He died in Afghanistan. How would I know what he has that was your boss’?”

The soldier was well aware of Hemmingway’s untimely death.

He’d been there.

Oh, and he caused it.

“I know. I served with him. We know what he took, and we want it back. My suggestion is to tell us, or bad things are going to happen.”

Liam had no clue what he was talking about. Legitimately, this was befuddling him.

“Where are his things? Where are the things from when he was in Afghanistan?”

This made no sense.

“We don’t have his things,” he said.

To prove they weren’t playing around, the man next to Penelope shot her in the head, and let her body drop to the ground at his feet.

The sound of the bullet echoed through the barn.

Liam gasped.

“PENNY! NO!”

Only, it was too late.

She stared blankly at him with that deathly stare. The lights were no longer on, and she was no longer home.

The man began fighting to get to his wife when the bigger man stopped him.

“I wouldn’t waste our time. Your son was sent back with his possessions after he died in Afghanistan. Where the fuck are they?”

Liam knew.

Only, he had to protect Poe. After Hemmingway had died, and Poe came back that last time to England, he’d shipped all of his brother’s things back.

He’d wanted to be close to his brother, and to be able to see him when he looked at them. So, they let him have them. Now, he was definitely not ratting his son out to these murderous bastards.

He wiped his tears.

“He was buried with most of them. The rest, we gave away,” he said. “We only kept his medals. He was buried in his military uniform.”

Poe would have to carry on once he was dead. Thank God he was safely tucked away in the United States. These animals wouldn’t find him.

That was their only chance.

He was the last Seville.

The only part that upset him was that he would have to come home and take over for them, and put them to rest.

Liam knew there was no doubt that he wasn’t surviving this.

Call it a hunch.

Oh, that was not the answer he wanted, and if the man wasn’t helpful, he was deadweight.

“That’s a pity,” he said.

Then, he shot Liam five times in the head, chest, and torso.

At the very first bullet, Liam died instantly, much like his beloved Penelope.

As he laid on the ground, the men stood there.

“What do we do now?” the one asked. “If it’s not here, that means it’s someone else in the platoon. What if Hemmingway passed it on to someone else?”

He sighed.

That was a problem.

The rest of the platoon, the ones not working for The BlackStone Group , were Americans. That was a big country, and that would take time.

“I don’t know. The boss is going to be hella pissed. He wants that crypto key. It’s fifty million dollars, and that asshole found out that he was doing dirty deeds in the sandbox. Then, he stole the only key. It’s gotta be somewhere, man,” he stated.

The other man shook his head.

“I don’t want to be the one who pisses off the boss. He’s not someone you fuck with,” he said. “We’d better go through this estate with a fine-tooth comb, and see if we can find that key. If not, we’re dead ducks. The minute Von Donore finds out we can’t find that key…”

Oh, they knew that answer.

They were going to disappear.

There was no doubt there.

As for the dead people…

“Put their bodies with the rest of the house staff. No one will find them for a while since they all live here. Maybe, if we’re lucky, it’ll be weeks.”

That was the best-case scenario.

That was a long shot, but they knew they had to take that chance.

Two of the three men headed toward the estate, keeping their masks on, as they entered the home again, just in case there was security they didn’t handle.

Inside, all of the people who worked there were already dead. The maids, the butler, and the housekeepers were all lying in puddles of their own blood.

Yep.

They’d killed them all.

Spreading out, they searched high and low for that long-ass crypto key. Von Donore had promised the mercenary who found it was getting one million dollars of the money with no strings attached—on top of his pay.

That was very motivating.

On the upper floor, they found a room that was memorializing Hemmingway Seville. In it, there were pictures of him by his Apache helicopter, the man in his uniform, and all of his service awards from the monarch.

They did what they needed to do.

It was torn to shreds.

Inside, they found nothing that led them to believe that the man had the key. The place was a mausoleum to his life, and nothing more.

There wasn’t a crypto key to be found.

“Keep searching,” the one mercenary said. “We have to figure this out.”

The only thing that was saving them was everyone was dead, and the main gate to the estate was locked down.

On the main floor, they headed into the family room, and that’s when they came to a stop.

It caught them off-guard.

“Who the fuck is that?” the one ex-soldier asked, pointing at the wall.

On it, there was an oil painting with the family standing together. It was one of those rich-y rich paintings that the wealthy did to show how pretentious they were. Oh, they knew Hemmingway had money, but someone had MONEY MONEY.

“Am I seeing what I’m seeing?” the other mercenary asked.

In the oil painting, with the gold gilded frame, there were two Hemmingways. One was in a soldier’s uniform for the King’s army, and… one was in a suit and tie. They flanked the two people they had just encountered outside, and killed.

How were there two?

Was this a joke?

Heading toward the painting, the one man read the metal plate on the bottom of the picture.

‘Duke and Dutchess of Gordon, with their children Hemmingway and Poe Seville.’

And then it hit.

They’d heard that name from the father.

“Well, shit,” he muttered. “He said his son ‘Poe’ ,” he admitted. “Right before we killed him, he mentioned his son—his other son. Hemmingway never told us that he was a twin or that he had a brother.”

Jesus.

H.

Christ.

Pulling out his phone, the one mercenary searched the man’s name, trying to figure out where this man was. He had to be around.

Had they missed him on the estate grounds? If he escaped them, they didn’t have nearly the time they thought they did.

As he was searching his name, that’s when he found a website.

And he breathed a sigh of relief.

“Relax,” he said, sensing the tension in all of the men around him.

They waited.

“He’s a doctor in the States,” he said, showing him. “He specializes in PTSD and soldiers back from war. He doesn’t live here.”

Rubbing the tension from his brow, the mercenary leading this clusterfuck knew what that meant.

If the crypto code wasn’t here, that meant it was in the United States. That was the least convenient option.

They were going to have to cover all of their bases.

“He has to have the crypto key. If I wanted to hide something that big, I’d give it to someone I trusted. I’d definitely give it to my fucking identical twin brother to fuck with Von,” he said.

They all knew what that meant.

“The boss is going to be pissed,” the one soldier said. “When he finds out that we’re going to play games in the US…”

Oh, every single employee of The BlackStone Group was well aware.

They had to hope he was going to be easy to find.

“Where is he located?” the other asked, ignoring that statement.

He was well aware that their boss was going to be angry. They’d failed to locate the crypto key, and now they were dragging it out.

The one man went there.

“ New Orleans .”

Oh, he really had a headache now.

“Are you fucking with me?” he asked. “ New Orleans ?” he asked.

He nodded.

Why was that bad?

Well, maybe because The BlackStone Group was located there. They had an office in that city, and that’s where Von had one of his main locations. Now, there was no way he was going to be able to sneak into the city under Von’s nose and handle this.

He was going to have to come out and tell him.

One of the other men were curious.

“Isn’t that where a few of the platoon who didn’t work for BlackStone lived?” he asked.

Honestly, he wasn’t sure, so he’d have to make sure. They might get lucky and be able to handle a bunch of messes at one time.

He pulled out his phone and checked the list of names he had.

Then, he shared.

“Yeah, that’s where they live. We’ll cover our bases since we’re going to have to go there. We have to consider he might NOT have kept the key after he stole it. He might have taken it, and passed it off to someone else he trusted in the platoon. At least we can kill three birds with one stone.”

And they would.

Quite literally.

The man was to the point.

“We have to move fast. The second word gets out that someone killed the Duke and Dutchess of Gordon, the son might panic. He’ll come here, and we don’t have time to chase him back and forth over the ocean.”

He was absolutely right.

They needed to do this flawlessly for the rest of the job, or none of them were getting paid.

“If he panics, then we know he is well aware of what is going on. All we know is the money wasn’t accessed. That tells me this key is still in play. We’d better get it for Von, or all of us are going to be finding ourselves dead.”

And that was no exaggeration.

You didn’t fuck around with The BlackStone Group or Von Donore. He had his fingers in every single pot in Washington DC, and was a dangerous man.

He got want he wanted.

When he wanted it.

So they’d better deliver.

* * * Hunters * * *

Poe Seville’s

Home

Three Days Later

Wednesday

There was one thing that he was acutely aware of, and that was that he only had a week to go.

A week until his papers were signed off on.

A week until Poe set him free.

A week until he was told to leave.

And Gamble wasn’t happy about it either. The last four weeks went by so fast, and all he could think of was that kiss by the pond, and how it had made him feel.

Poe was the only other person he’d kissed in the past few years, other than Storm.

Oh, he’d kissed Jagger on the forehead to bust his short ass, and he’d told Zayn to kiss off, but he’d not put his mouth on another human being for a while.

It had been anything but chaste, and it fueled ongoing dreams about the man.

Wicked.

Wild.

Dreams.

What he’d realized over the last four weeks was that he was even more attracted to Poe, and that he absolutely could not go home.

He couldn’t walk away.

Gamble was even more determined to stay here, and now, all he needed to do was figure out how to do that.

Poe was a different story altogether.

After that kiss, he was much more careful around Gamble. It was as if he was attempting to keep him at arm’s length.

Oh, they still ate all their meals together, they read together, and they rode horses together, but ultimately, it was different.

Poe was chillier.

Oh, he was still funny, kind, and a good doctor, but he was hyper-aware of the space between them.

He didn’t touch him anymore.

Even the gentle little touches to the arm or shoulder were gone. Every second of the day, he made sure there was space between them.

And Gamble hated that.

A.

Freaking.

Lot.

It was annoying him to no end, simply because he was trying to get the man to notice him and ask him to stay. With each step forward, Poe took a step back, keeping that goal just out of his reach.

Truth be told, he hated that the man was avoiding contact with him because of that kiss.

It had been fantastic.

It was things that dreams were made of, and hot, sweaty fantasies in his sleep.

Then, add in that the chilliness of the proper doctor persona was kinda sexy, too, and he was thinking about the man in his crisp houndstooth blazer, loafers, and glasses.

Shit.

It was getting warm in the barn.

Gamble knew he had it bad when some scratchy material that old men favored was getting him hot and bothered.

Maybe he was insane.

That could be it, but he was suspecting it was definitely something more.

He wanted the man.

Plain.

And.

Simple.

The chilly space between them was doing nothing to calm down his libido.

A few times, he woke in the middle of the night, and went downstairs to sit in the man’s living room—mostly to calm down.

On a few occasions, Poe would walk right past him, not even seeing him, and Gamble would follow him.

And watch him.

Why?

Truth be told, he was worried about him. Gamble had this overwhelming need to make sure he was okay at all times of the day.

Morning.

Noon.

Night.

Yep, and now, he had a whole other set of issues to deal with on top of the clock running out.

Apparently, Gamble was now hyper-protective of Doctor Poe Seville. He was always tracking him, just to make sure he was safe.

His ‘person’ was now his obsession.

When the man called him Mr. Holloway, to keep it less personal, Gamble had bad news for him.

It didn’t make him want to not be with him.

Instead, it turned him on more.

There was nothing sexier than the man in his glasses and tweed jacket—except when he wore the houndstooth one. It was wildly inappropriate of Gamble to be ogling him, but when Poe would wear his shirt open at his throat, Gamble would fantasize about so many things.

Like getting him out of it.

He was obsessed.

Maybe it was good he was leaving.

He was getting callouses on his palms from jacking off every night as he thought about him. The libido that Storm decimated, Poe brought back to life.

And it was all because of that kiss.

An amazing kiss.

It was still befuddling to Gamble how he went from wanting to die, to wanting to live, and right to desperate to be near this man.

But that was where he was with all of this.

Even at that very moment, he knew where he was. Out in the pasture, not far away, Poe was putting out food for the horses that were with him.

Honey.

And King.

Why was he doing it?

Well, Poe was clearly trying to put space between them. He’d asked Gamble to put feed in the stalls after the man had looked flustered.

Did that bother Gamble?

Hell.

No.

He loved that flush up his neck, as he blushed the color of his flannel shirt.

Was it wrong of him?

Yeah, but he couldn’t help it because he was a dick more times than not.

“What am I going to do?” he asked Diablo and Snow as Rufus was nowhere to be found. The dog liked to wander, and he was pretty sure he was sleeping on a couch somewhere—or out on a grand adventure.

Normally, he was up his ass, and today, that wasn’t the case. Someone was likely lying in his bed, taking a nap.

Because he loved these two horses, he was going back and forth between them as he fed them snacks.

The beast of a black horse took a carrot, and munched. Snow just whinnied.

Gamble kept talking, like he was at confession, asking for answers.

“I have a week to go, and I don’t know what to do. He’s my doctor, and he’s trying to put space between us. I don’t want space. I’m not sure if he feels anything for me, or not. That kiss…”

Yep.

He was back to the kiss again.

The whole time, neither horse offered up any assistance on the matter.

They just wanted more carrots.

Gamble sighed.

“You’re really bad at this whole ‘talk it out’ thing,” he said. “What? No advice?” he asked. “You both know the man better than me. How do I get him to stop playing doctor, and focus on me? Walk around naked? Fire him from being my doctor and then just tell him I’m moving in? Is that absurd? Creepy? You know if he comes to the barn after I’m supposed to leave, and I’ve pitched a tent?”

Again, Diablo just blinked and stole a carrot from his flannel jacket pocket as Snow was munching on his hair.

“Good talk. Thanks, guys. I knew I could count on you two to answer absolutely none of my questions.”

Diablo nudged him with his big head, and Gamble took that as his sign.

“Go find him? Is that what you’re telling me?” he asked.

The horse made noise.

Well, who was he to question that menace of a horse, Diablo?

Patting both of the horses, he went to stand in the opening of the barn to take in the place. He’d grown so much here at the equine therapy, and he loved it here.

The country outside the hustle and bustle of the city was so calming. It was nice to be able to see trees, hear the wind, and watch the thunder when it was raining outside.

He’d learned to be himself while staying here.

He’d learned that he wasn’t to blame for his child’s death either.

And he’d learned that while she was mentally ill, Storm was still a piece of shit for doing what she did to his child, herself, and him.

The most important lesson was that he was allowed to be angry.

Oh, and he was.

HELLA.

ANGRY.

But now, he was able to manage it with the techniques that Poe had taught him. Gamble was coping with those demons, and he wasn’t beating himself up over it anymore.

This place had given him a new lease on life. The biggest lesson was that he knew that he would be okay out in the world.

Then again, would he?

The man out in the pasture was the reason why he could be himself again. The doctor had pieced him back together with logic, gentleness when he needed it most, and kindness.

Poe…

He was special.

Yeah, even Gamble knew that now.

In the week that remained, he hoped they could move closer, not further apart, but he wasn’t sure he’d pull it off.

In fact, he was about ready to go back to Chartres, pack a bag, and come back here to pitch that tent in the barn.

Could you be evicted from a barn?

Well, he might just be finding out.

What Gamble wanted was to be with him.

That was if he felt the same way about him and he wanted him.

The last four weeks had been pretty much hands-off, but Gamble had caught him a few times watching him, and when he looked, he’d turn his head.

The whole time, he looked…sad.

Each time, he looked like he wanted to say something, but he never did, and that was playing with his mind.

Did he?

Or was it his imagination?

If it hadn’t been for that kiss, and the truth he felt in it, he’d assume the doctor just didn’t want him to stick around, but he suspected more.

Now, time was coming to an end, and Gamble was no closer to the man than he was before.

Damn it.

There had to be a way to figure out if the man felt anything, or if Gamble was just…insane.

Maybe he should just ask him.

When a sound caught Gamble’s attention, he turned his head, and that’s when he saw it.

There were three, expensive blacked-out SUVs heading in hot.

Like really hot.

Gravel was flying, and dust was being kicked up as they tore down the driveway to reach the house.

At first, he thought maybe it was Elizabeth. She sometimes showed up in a fancy vehicle, but when the three rides came to a stop, that’s when Gamble knew they had problems.

Oh, shit.

That wasn’t Elizabeth, or The Hunters.

Immediately, broken Gamble was put away, and Marine CIA Gamble came out to play.

That survival instinct was back in full force, and it wasn’t only about taking care of himself.

There was an innocent person here who needed to be kept safe.

POE.

The men who were exiting the vehicle had high-powered guns, and they were wearing ski masks. That never said, ‘pleasant little visit’ .

Ever.

Oh, shit.

Immediately, his mind went there. Was someone coming after him?

That had to be the answer because why the hell would they be coming for Poe?

He literally helped people, and this wasn’t his office. This was his home.

That meant this was all about him.

Unfortunately.

As they headed for the house, Gamble knew that he had to get to Poe.

FAST.

If he took off, Poe would be at their mercy, and there was no way he could do that to the man. He owed Poe everything, and he’d be loyal to the man who kept him alive, and nursed him back to health.

So, he had his protection no matter what.

They couldn’t get to a vehicle, and he couldn’t get to a gun locked inside either. That meant, he was going to have to do this old school.

The first step?

Put space between them.

He whistled, and immediately, Diablo’s ears perked up. It was clear he knew what was about to go down.

They were taking a fast ride to someplace safe. It looked like a scenic little jaunt through the woods and acres surrounding Poe’s home.

He glanced at Snow, and Diablo, and he knew they needed the fastest, strongest horse there. That would be the menace. He was spiteful and wicked, but he ran like the wind, and they had guns.

Powerful guns.

“Sorry, Snow. I’ll come back and set you free!” he promised, throwing open Diablo’s stall, and getting ready to mount the wild stallion.

Hopefully, he could get to Poe fast enough.

“We gotta go!” he said, grabbing a blanket for over his back before he used the horse’s mane to get onto him.

It was fast, and he knew Diablo loved a good race. He hadn’t been run yet today, and that meant he was going to go fast, hard, and until someone stopped him.

“Go!” he ordered, kicking him in the sides, and holding on for dear life as Hemmingway’s horse bolted out, reared back, and Gamble had to hold on for dear life.

God.

Hopefully, he didn’t break his goddamn neck.

The horse was raring to go. That was the one good thing about Diablo. He was a menace when set wild, and all you had to do was direct and hold on for your freaking life.

The black stallion flew out of the barn, tearing away from the structure and the danger.

The whole time, Gamble tugged him toward the pasture and Poe.

It was hooves on pavement for a few feet, and that was what gave him away.

Or the fact that a big, black beast of a horse was going full throttle toward the fields like he was the devil, breaking free from Hell.

Behind him, there were gunshots, and he felt one go way too close to his ear as he charged into the pastures. Now, he hoped the horse didn’t get hit.

Then, they were both going down, and Diablo was special to Poe.

When he heard the gunshots, and Gamble shouted his name, Poe turned.

And he must have seen the people with guns running toward the field.

Or it was because Gamble was charging at him with the behemoth of a horse.

Poe’s eyes went huge.

As Gamble raced Diablo toward him, he held out his hand, hoping the man would understand what he needed to do.

Truthfully, stopping wasn’t an option. It gave the people a stationary target, and increased the odds of being shot.

So, fast was the answer. Keeping distance between those AR-Fifteens was the goal.

They couldn’t drive those luxury vehicles into the pasture, and Poe didn’t have quads, that meant the intruders would have to chase them on foot.

On Diablo, they had the advantage.

Honestly, there was another thing saving them, other than Diablo’s speed.

Poe owned over fifty acres, and some of it was swamp. It was surrounded by trees, and he hoped it would be a sufficient refuge.

They had a better chance of getting away and regrouping to figure this out.

Only, he had guilt.

Leaving Rufus behind…

That freaked him out, but it was save him or save Poe…

In that moment, Gamble had to make a choice. He chose to save Poe and himself and hope that Rufus slipped away.

As he got closer, Poe was scared. He heard the gunshots, and heard Diablo charge out of the barn, hauling ass toward him.

Then, he saw Gamble with his hand out.

Apparently, they were riding out on the most dangerous, insane horse to avoid a worst-case scenario.

It was clear they weren’t stopping, so he was going to have to be pulled up onto the stallion mid-gallop.

As they got closer, Poe reached out to him as the horse approached, and Gamble pulled him up and onto the back of the stallion.

They.

Were.

Off.

“What the hell?” Poe asked, as bullets whizzed by them.

Gamble was honest.

“Mercenaries,” he said, staying low.

Together, they were heading toward the trees, and Diablo was fast as fuck.

Honey and King had taken off, startled by the gunshots, and they were heading toward their safe place.

The orchard.

All behind them, the bullets stopped reaching them, and they were out of range.

They weren’t getting shot at nearly as much as they were able to put more space between them.

As they crashed through the thicket, leaving the danger of the open pastures, they were into the dense surroundings, and hidden from the men with guns.

Oh, but they kept racing.

Then, and only then, did Gamble stop Diablo.

“Get in front of me,” he said to Poe, not wanting him to be his shield. They had to be after him, and if someone was going to get shot, it was him.

Gamble used his thigh muscles to hold on as Poe climbed over him to sit in front of him.

If they weren’t in danger, Gamble would have enjoyed this. Now, he was just worried.

“I’m good,” Poe said, as Gamble wrapped his arm around the man in front of him, holding onto Poe, and Diablo’s silky black mane.

He needed to think, and fast.

“Where is the furthest part of the property that you own?” he asked.

Poe pointed, and he was scared shitless. He had no freaking clue what the hell was going on.

But it had to be bad.

Why were mercenaries after them?

“About two miles that way,” Poe said, being held in place and safely against Gamble’s chest as they barebacked Diablo into the trees.

Gamble was working out a plan.

He had to.

“What’s at the end of the land?” he asked, knowing they’d never get to New Orleans through the woods on horseback.

That was way too much for Diablo, carrying both of them. At some point, he’d have to send the horse off, so they could play his favorite game.

Hide-and-don’t-find-me.

He played that a lot for the CIA.

Poe thought about it. Finally, he answered him, and Gamble knew it was the best possible answer for them.

“Right past my land is the Chitimacha tribal lands,” he said. “They own past my property and toward Charenton. It’s all reservation land.”

Hot.

Damn.

That meant plenty of woods, trees, and places they could tuck away and hide. Zayn was Chitimacha, and he had told Gamble many times there was so much land.

That was the best option.

Getting lost.

Until he could regroup.

Well, it looked like they were going to play hide-and-don’t-find about two miles away on some Native lands while he figured out what the hell was going on.

Because if there were mercenaries there, that meant one of two things.

The Hunters were compromised, and someone was taking out the whole team. That would mean someone had all of their information.

Or his past, and all of the CIA missions he’d handled for the US government were coming back to haunt him—meaning Poe was caught in the crossfire, either way.

The kind, innocent man had fallen down the rabbit hole with Gamble, and his life was in danger.

That freaked Gamble out.

BIG-TIME.

* * * Hunters * * *

The Equine Farm

Same Time

Their target had escaped.

One of their biggest mistakes was not sneaking up on the man, but they assumed that he would be easy to catch.

He was, after all, a therapist.

How was a suit-wearing British doctor supposed to outrun ten mercenaries?

Well, he did.

In fact, the mercenaries hadn’t been prepared at all.

What the hell?

Did he actually escape on horseback?

When Von heard this, heads were going to roll.

The horror struck when they saw a stranger leave the barn, grab Hemmingway’s twin—their target—and take off like a bat out of Hell.

“Did anyone shoot him?” Willy asked, looking around at his men.

The other men either shrugged, or just shook their heads.

Willy lost his collective shit on them.

He’d had his ass chewed by Von when they told him that they had no crypto key, and that this chase was now on his home turf.

Von liked to keep his nest clean, and killing more people here did anything but that. In fact, it made their lives more difficult.

“Jesus Christ. We need that doctor. His brother likely gave him the crypto key, and Mr. Donore wants that key!”

This wild goose chase was frustrating, and one didn’t burn Von Donore.

Oh, he paid well, but he punished those who didn’t deliver.

All around him, none of the men said anything, and that told the tale.

This cemented one thing.

The man had to know what they were coming for, since he took off so goddamn fast.

Now, Willy had a job to do. He was hired by The BlackStone Group to get it done, and he was getting that paycheck, and million-dollar bonus. That meant not letting Von Donore down.

Or he was a deadman.

“Search the house. We’re going to have to go after them if we can’t find the crypto key inside,” he said.

No one was looking forward to a chase in the woods and swamp.

“On quads?” Trent Stall asked. “Or?”

Was this man serious?

If he thought they were going to play with the horses, he was insane.

“No, on fucking unicorns, dickwad. I want you to get a bag of pointy seashells and duct tape them to the goddamn horses’ foreheads.”

Some of them laughed.

“What do you think we’re going to do this on? Get some here, and the rest of us will search the house for the crypto key.”

Jesus.

H.

Christ.

For a bunch of rich-y riches, the Sevilles were a pain in his ass. Honestly, Von should have just stolen all of the money from the freaking Duke, and he would have had the same amount of money. Unfortunately, his ego was at play here.

When they divided up, the one group opened the door, and a mangy dog came lunging out, trying to protect the house.

“Grab that mutt, and tie it to the fence. We’ll deal with it later,” he said, kicking Rufus hard in the leg, and making the dog yep when he hurt him.

One of the guys grabbed the dog by the back of his neck, and picked it up from the ground as the dog was screaming in pain.

“I need that crypto key, or we’re fucked. Like end up in a ditch, fucked. Mr. Donore will call out some of his other ex-military guys to handle us.”

And no one wanted that.

Heading into the house, they tore it apart.

Because somewhere here…

There was fifty million dollars waiting to be found.

And they’d make sure they found it.