Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty One
Wesley
Ilook down at my phone as a notification appears on the screen, followed by a security alert.
I watch as the four cars fan out along our property line, tucking themselves in the street so they remain hidden.
I can see them, though, and they’re twenty-five minutes late, something I’ll be taking up with my buddy.
He owns one of the most elite private security companies in the country, and with the Four Horsemen not only after the Graves family but holding on to interior security footage of my family, I thought a little protection wouldn’t hurt.
Asher didn’t tell anyone about the leaked footage—per usual, he’s trying to handle everything on his own.
Sometimes he pulls it off, other times not so much.
Ronan and I have come to the agreement that if he’s going to run the Brethren for generations to come, he needs to learn to delegate.
We can’t force him to do so, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to sit around and do nothing with this information.
I didn’t ask for permission because I didn’t want to be met with resistance.
They need extra security because Zayden, Dominic and Vincent are going after another one of the Horsemen, Andre Ivanov.
We were able to capture a private jet itinerary that shows him landing in Paris in exactly six hours.
It’s an eleven-hour trip for us, which means we’re already behind, but more ahead than we were with the last target.
I say we because last night, Dominic informed me that I would be joining them in London.
He said he needed another babysitter to look after Zayden and Vincent so they don’t paint the streets with blood, but I knew he was full of shit.
He wants me by his side because he knows I have access to certain government databases he could only dream of breaking into.
It pays to fight for your country and have active contacts to this day that are more loyal to you than their superiors.
Our only luggage is a backpack each. Asher has called in a private jet to meet us at the local airfield, and Zayden, Blake and Dominic are saying their goodbyes while Vincent does the same with Skyla. Ronan walks up to me, taking my bag from my hands before setting it into the back for me.
“Thanks,” I say.
He nods. “Still don’t know why they asked you to come and not me.”
“It’s because I’m better than you,” I tease as I shut the trunk.
Ronan lifts an unimpressed eyebrow. “In what way?”
I smirk. “Every way.”
He tries to hold on to his pinched, less-than-enthusiastic expression, but he can’t do it, and a smile slowly slips across his face that sends my heart racing.
He leans forward, resting a hand on my hip before pulling me closer.
Surprise ripples through me. Typically, he’s careful about when and where he shows me affection.
It’s rarely in front of others and usually only when we’re naked.
When his lips touch mine, though, it’s anything but sexual. It’s passionate, warm… perfect.
When he pulls away, he rests his forehead to mine. “Come home safe, yeah?”
I smile at that and nod. “Of course.”
“I’ll miss you,” Skyla says from behind us.
We pull apart, both smiling down at her as she looks between us.
A mischievous smile plays at her lips, like she somehow orchestrated this whole…
thing between Ronan and me. Or at least she likes to think so and will be claiming credit.
I don’t care who takes credit for what; I’m just so deliriously happy, and I want it to stay that way.
“I’ll miss you, little one. We’ll be in and out. I’ll see you by lunch tomorrow.”
She nods, wrapping her arms around my neck. I try to pull her closer to me, but her growing belly is beginning to make that a little difficult. Ronan pushes me away from her slightly until I’m no longer pressed against her belly.
Rolling my eyes, I look to him and laugh. “Easy, papa bear. I’m not hurting your baby or woman.”
“Our woman and baby, and yes you fucking were.”
Skyla sighs at our bickering, lifting onto her tiptoes to place a kiss on my lips before taking Ronan’s hand.
“Come on—you’ve been assigned back-rubbing duty,” she says.
He follows after dutifully, both of them casting me last-minute smiles. I smile back, lifting my hand to wave when Dominic pauses beside me, clapping his hand on my shoulder.
“Let’s go.”
When we land in London, a car is already waiting for us.
To the driver’s credit, he didn’t look in the back once.
Not when Dominic was assembling the guns he took apart for the flight.
Not when Zayden was actively sharpening knife after knife.
Not even when Vincent started pulling out every weapon fathomable from his bag, handing me a couple before strapping the rest to his body.
We’re suiting up like we’re going to battle. Granted, I’ve never been on a hit before, but I’ve been on plenty of missions, and this sure as shit feels like a mission. I guess technically it is.
“Do we have his itinerary?” I ask the car.
“No,” Dominic says, loading a bullet into the chamber before beginning on the next gun. “Make yourself useful,” he says, handing me half a dozen empty clips and a large box of bullets.
I begin loading each as Vincent speaks.
“We have a hotel reservation; that’s all we need.”
Dominic moves Zayden’s bag, and it jingles. We all look to him with confusion as he grins. A mischievous childlike grin, something that Jackson or Brooks would wear when sneaking into something they ought not to.
“What the fuck is jingling, Zay?” Dominic asks, his tone oozing exhaustion with his twin.
“A little of this, a little of that.”
When no one says anything, he tosses his hands out by his sides and snickers. “It’s Christmastime! I’m being festive.”
“Jesus,” Vincent mutters under his breath and shakes his head.
I don’t know him well enough to give him shit for anything. Besides, he seems a little too mentally unstable to be making any type of comments. He seems the type to laugh and joke one moment and slit your throat in the next breath. No, thanks. I’ll just stay quiet and load clips.
Dominic screws on silencers to the guns before handing one to each of us.
We arrive at a nice hotel then and all exit the car, Vincent tossing the driver a wad of bills so fat, he won’t even think of mentioning us to anyone. Or at least that’s the idea.
We walk into the lobby and are immediately greeted by staff. Dominic takes charge, throwing down a card onto the desk as he speaks.
“Grand suite, eastern-facing terrace.”
The employee nods and smiles, then frowns. “I’m sorry, sir, we don’t have any grand suites available on the eastern side. If you would like—”
“Check again,” he says stiffly.
“But, sir—”
“Check again,” he repeats.
She shakes her head but does as he says, surprise flashing across her face a moment later.
“My apologies.”
Once she hands us our keys, we move to the elevator, riding it all the way to the top floor.
We enter the room before heading straight for the terrace.
Vincent grabs the patio table as Zayden moves the chairs, clearing a pathway before he takes a few steps back, then vaults up and over the ledge, landing on the other terrace.
My eyes widen with surprise. It’s not a far jump by any means, but we’re thirty stories high and the gap is at least six feet.
Vincent follows after easily before Dominic looks to me.
“You good?”
I nod, then he turns to his brother, getting a running start before jumping to the other terrace. Fuck, guess that just leaves me.
I back up as far as I’m able, leaping over the ledge and flying through the air. The only problem is my foot catches the edge, dragging me down. I reach out frantically and just barely grip a piece of the ledge on the other terrace.
Vincent’s hand comes down in offering, and I take it before Dominic reaches over to grab my other. Together, they pull me up.
Zayden is sitting on the table, swinging his feet like he’s bored. “I thought you said he was a SEAL, Griggs.”
“I am,” I say as my feet touch the terrace.
He shrugs. “Could have fooled me.”
I scoff. “Well, my training didn’t exactly consist of jumping from hotel terrace to terrace. Put me in the water and then say something.”
My adrenaline is still thrumming from my almost death, and maybe I’m a little irritated by his superior attitude.
To my surprise, he doesn’t get upset by my attitude. Instead, he looks at me consideringly before he shrugs. “Noted.”
I frown at his casual indifference.
But he just jumps to his feet and opens the French doors easily, and we enter what I assume is Andre’s hotel room.
As a unit, Vincent, Zayden and Dominic begin setting up in different areas of the suite.
Dominic is fastening something to the doorframe, Zayden and Vincent are laying out their plethora of weapons neatly, and I’m left standing there more than a little useless.
“What do you need me to do?” I ask.
“Watch the door. If someone comes through it, shoot them,” Dominic says.
Can do.
A minute later, Zayden is hidden behind the bar, Dominic is tucked into the bar and Vincent is crouched behind the sofa in front of me. His hand reaches for my sleeve before he yanks hard, pulling me towards him.
“Can you let me in on what the fuck we’re doing?” I scoff.
“Andre travels with a minimum of five security staff. Dominic placed a device on the door that we can lock once all are inside the room. Then it’s just about killing them before they can kill us.”
I look at him with surprise. “Seriously? That’s your best plan?”
“You have a better one?” Vincent asks.
I shake my head and throw up my hands. “We’re all putting ourselves in danger for no reason. We could have blown the place up, or tear-gassed them at the very least, or… I don’t know. Dead is dead, right? We don’t have to feel the life drain with our hands, do we?”