Chapter 21
Grayson
“Fuck,” I rumbled, forgetting the body of the man who tried to rape my woman, walking around to her side of the bed. Gently, I pushed her head back onto the pillow and checked her temp. Her cheeks were burning up.
The bastard drugged her, and I needed to find out with what.
Carrie’s blonde curls were splayed out around her head, the moonlight making them brighter, like a sun in the night. My sunshine. Grinding my molars, I gently lifted her wrist and checked her pulse, my eyes on her faint scars.
My cell vibrated in my pocket, and I didn’t need to look at the screen to know who it was.
Without taking my eyes from her, I pulled it and put the device to my ear.
“Grayson,” I answered as calmly as I could, my voice shaking with an anger I’d never felt.
“What the fuck happened?” Hayes demanded, his voice hard. “Dominic just put out code: White Snake to the team. Fuck, do we have to hide another body?”
“I need someone here in five hours,” I replied, brushing my knuckle over Carrie’s cheek before turning away and heading to the body.
Leo Samuels.
His eyes were open, his mouth agape, a single line of blood flowing down his forehead, between his brows, over the ridge of his nose, down his cheek to the floor.
“Gray,” Hayes barked through the phone. “What the fuck happened?”
“Fucker bound her to the bed, Hayes,” I snapped back, my voice raised.
He was silent.
“I almost didn’t make it here in time,” I continued, looking over my shoulder to where Carrie was passed out. “He drugged her, Hayes. After she fell asleep on his fucking chest—” I cut myself off, knowing that if I kept talking, I would burn this entire town to the ground, erasing the memory of her nearly getting…
I bit off another curse as I turned around, crossing the room to latch her bedroom window shut. When that was done, I closed my eyes, grinding my teeth together. I was almost too late.
Hayes’ voice cut through my thoughts. “Take a breath. I’ll be there soon.”
“No, not you,” I said, opening my eyes again and releasing a breath. I looked back to Carrie, my chest aching. “It can’t be you.”
“Why not?”
I looked down to the fisherman. “He had blond hair and green eyes, Hayes,” I explained in a low voice.
The last thing Carrie needed was for one of my men to remind her of that low life piece of shit. She would meet Hayes later, after she processed things.
“Understood,” he replied instantly, all business.
“Appreciated,” I muttered, pinching the bridge of my nose.
“Where’s the body?”
“In her bedroom.”
“Where is she?”
“Passed out on her bed. Temp and pulse are normal; whatever he gave her was only meant to knock her out, not kill her.” I went on to explain that before I boarded the plane to Portland, I checked the security cameras in her house to find Leo on her front porch. Of course, I didn’t tell Hayes about the way my gut twisted or how my heart nearly stopped at the sight of another man kissing her, touching her—holding her. I just knew I would never feel that way again, because Carrie Hale was mine. I was never letting her go again.
I was never leaving her again.
I stood at the end of her bed, watching her breathe as I told Hayes that I watched the cameras the entire time. When I landed, Leo had stuck something in her neck while she was asleep on his chest. Leo was confident—cocky, which was probably why he sat there for another hour on the couch, finishing two more beers and another episode of the show they’d been watching. He intended on taking his time with her, which made him a different kind of monster entirely.
“You want the jet?” Hayes offered, knowing the public airport wouldn’t be able to get anyone here until tomorrow morning.
I put my hand in my pocket, walking back to Carrie and standing over her. “Yeah. You just need to stay away for a bit.”
Hayes wasn’t offended in the slightest; he’d fly Jake and Dominic and wait with the aircraft. The jet was used for emergencies only, and the last time we needed it was six months ago, when Ash was compromised. I turned to her dresser, opening the third drawer to grab a pair of sweatpants. I didn’t bother grabbing underwear; trying to put on those—after what she just went through—was too much for me. I could slip on a pair of sweats over her legs and under her ass without looking at her.
As Hayes confirmed the plan, I did just that. Once she was dressed, I covered her back up and brushed a curl from her face.
“We’ll take care of this, Gray,” Hayes promised.
“I know.”
After hanging up the phone, my eyes shot to her once more, watching her breathe for a few seconds before carrying the body downstairs, through the kitchen, and out the back door. I let the body land on the deck with a hard thump, snow calmly falling from the dark sky now.
A small whimper from the right caught my attention, and I twisted my neck to find a skinny orange cat balled up in a corner of the screened-in porch, shivering as it looked up at me with big green eyes.
Sighing, I scooped the animal into my arms, holding it to my chest.
“I take it you mean something to Carrie,” I whispered, noting the small box with a blanket and bowls along the wall. The cat responded with a purr, rubbing its head against my chest. Without a second thought, I took the cat inside, leaving the body of Leo fucking Samuels to rot in the cold.
Five hours later, the orange cat and Carrie both still passed out, Dominic and Jake arrived. I pulled open the front door to find death lingering in both pairs of eyes, anger coating their faces.
“He’s out back,” I informed them gruffly, stepping aside.
Jake pushed back the hood of his coat, running a hand through his thick red hair, his eyes scanning the ceiling. “You need two more cameras in here, Gray.”
I agreed, though I didn’t have the supplies when I installed the few I did have. “You got some?”
He looked at me, his mouth in a hard line, nodding once.
I turned to Dominic as he said, “Need demographics and history.”
I walked over to my bags, pulling out my tablet and tapped the screen. Leo’s background popped up, and I handed it to him. “No parents. No past partners. No home address,” he read aloud. “He lived on his boat.”
Jake shot me a look. “Could’ve done that for you, you know.”
I folded my arms over my chest. “I needed something to do,” I admitted. I could pull a simple background check instead of chopping up the fucker’s body in Carrie’s kitchen.
“There’s something else, boys,” I noted. Both of them looked at me, standing in the middle of Carrie’s cozy living room, dressed in all black with guns strapped to their thighs.
“What?” Jake asked.
I jerked my head to the back door. “He’s good friends with the sheriff.”
Dominic chuckled, shaking his head as he looked up to the ceiling. “Fucking hell.”
“This needs to be an accident,” I stressed for Carrie’s sake. She’d already been through enough.
Jake nodded. “Understood.”
“Is the fucker outside?”
I nodded.
Dominic slapped Jake on the shoulder. “Your turn.”
Our tech specialist grumbled under his breath as he dropped his backpack to the floor, pulling out two different packs. He handed one to me. “I’ll need a blood sample from Carrie to do the screening,” he informed me.
“How soon can you have the results?” I asked as he carried the rest of his things to her small kitchen table.
“In an hour,” he answered. Aside from being our tech specialist, he also had a solid medical background.
I looked to Dominic. “Leo’s boats are at the docks, slots twenty-three and four.”
His eyes dropped back down to the tablet. “Any employees?”
“Only one. He’s out of town visiting family,” I answered.
Dominic’s eyes flicked to mine; his jaw tight. “How convenient for me,” he muttered.
I pulled out my phone and called Hayes. When he answered, I asked, “Need a chopper. Do your friends have one in that hanger?”
He’d landed the jet on an airstrip outside of Portland that was owned by an old friend. The good thing about Hayes being in the Air Force for fifteen years was the friends he made. Our military contacts were valuable to Red Snake Investigations, but Hayes was the only one with aircraft connections.
He sighed. “How soon?”
“An hour.”
“The weather might be a problem,” he warned me.
“Good thing you’re one of the best pilots in the western hemisphere,” I said, meaning it. Hayes was one hell of a pilot, and his call-sign was proof.
“I’ll be in the air in twenty.”
After ending the call and leaving my men downstairs, I took the medical kit up to Carrie's bedroom and walked around to her side of the bed. As I got everything ready for the blood draw, I tried to tamper down my anger and push back the visions of her with another man. She’d gone to him. She’d invited him over for dinner.
She was trying to move on.
I twisted the needle onto the syringe and popped off the cap, leaning over her arm to find a vein. “Forgive me,” I murmured as I stuck the needle in. She didn’t move, only a small whimper escaped her. The cat’s head popped up, watching me from his spot on her stomach. I drew the blood, pulled the needle out, capped it, and bandaged her up.
Before I left the room, I leaned over her again, pressing my lips to her forehead. “I’m so fucking sorry, Sunshine.”
Guilt was eating me alive, gnawing at me with sharpened teeth, ripping me to shreds with each passing second. Soon, there would be nothing left.
Once I was back downstairs, I found the house still dark. If we turned the lights on, it would draw unwanted attention, and I didn’t feel like dropping another body tonight.
I located both men on the back porch with black latex gloves on, prepping the body. As I stepped outside, we went over the plan together.
Dominic would take the body to one of the boats and head out five miles; from there, he’d dump the body and wait for the chopper.
I looked down to where Jake was working on Leo’s head.
“You got it?” I asked. I was surprised the damn bullet didn’t go through the fucker.
With a sigh, Jake leaned back, the bullet in his pliers, answering my question. Dominic held open a plastic bag, and Jake dropped the bullet into it. “I’ll melt this down when we get back to Denver,” our weapon’s specialist said.
“No.”
I could feel both of my men looking at me, but my eyes were on the bloodied bullet. “That’s mine.”
“Gray…”
My eyes snapped to Jake’s. “It. Is. Mine.” Each word came out on a growl, my body tense. I wanted to keep the bullet that reaped the soul of the man who thought he could touch my woman.
“And her?” Dominic prompted, raising his eyes to the ceiling. “Is she yours?”
“Yes.”
Claiming her out loud shifted everything. None of us had ever claimed a woman, not even Hayes. He was planning on doing it after he’d proposed to Veronica, but that never happened. I knew how huge this was for Red Snake and the men who worked for me.
Carrie Hale was no longer a target or some fantasy. She was mine, and that meant she was under the protection of Red Snake.
Forever.
After Jake wrapped the body in plastic and we loaded it into the back of the fucker’s truck, Dominic drove it down to the docks, and Jake ran Carrie’s blood sample. He’d set up shop in her kitchen, covering her feminine decor. As we waited for the results, he worked on draining Leo’s bank account, transferring what little funds the man had to a charity for literacy in Seattle, and then we came up with a story—one Carrie would need to memorize.
Jake scrubbed a hand over his face and beard. “Fuck, I need a coffee.”
I looked up from my tablet and nodded to Carrie’s coffeemaker. “Have at it.”
He shook his head.
I studied him for a moment. “This bothers you, doesn’t it?”
Jake shot me a look. “Erasing a man like that from existence is something I take great pleasure in, Gray. You know that.”
“But?” I prompted.
He looked back out the window, watching the snow under the light of street light in front of her neighbor’s home. “Never mind,” he muttered after a few moments. Then, as if to prove there wasn’t a problem, he got up and turned on the coffee maker. Minutes later, Dominic informed us that he’d pulled out of the harbor and was heading out to sea. Soon after that, Carrie’s results came back, and Jake’s green eyes hardened as he stared at the screen. I rose from my seat.
“What did he give her?”
He pushed back from the table, moving away as I bent over to read his screen, my hands braced on the table. Fury boiled in my gut as I read the results.
Nightwalker.
“Son of a fucking—”
I pushed off the table, the sound echoing through the kitchen as I ran my hands through my hair.
“Where does a fisherman like Leo Samuels get a drug like that?” Jake asked.
I twisted my neck to find him in the living room, looking out Carrie’s front window now. He looked at me over his shoulder, his lip curling in disgust.
We both knew the fucking answer.
Devils Den.