2. Ember
EMBER
COLD – CHRIS STAPLETON
One day.
One more fucking day.
My inner mantra grows louder as I wave at Archer, frowning from behind the steering wheel. The leader of the Falcon Team soon drives off in his company SUV. Spending the commute home in his company was far more appealing than crawling back to Hyland to catch a ride.
Undoubtedly, I’m in for an ass kicking when my other teammates hear that I skipped my regular appointment with the flower-obsessed Doctor Richards. Seriously, that dude needs to go shopping for new shirts or find a semi-sane stylist.
With a sigh, I head up to the apartment.
One day, then I’m doing things my way.
When I signed up to join the Anaconda Team, I thought I was getting a shot at justice. Perhaps even a way to put all the shit I’ve witnessed and endured to good use. I didn’t sign up for a group of overbearing alpha-holes to control my life. Least of all Hyland.
“Possessive asshole,” I mutter angrily.
Great. Talking to myself now too.
Freedom is going really well for me, clearly.
Our team’s penthouse apartment is on the top floor of a multimillion-pound skyscraper in the illustrious Canary Wharf, deep in London’s glittering financial district. It’s luxurious, though I’d be lying if I said this place felt like home.
The plush carpet absorbs my furious footsteps when I escape the elevator on the top floor to head for the penthouse. Even the hallway is dripping in opulent luxury, lit by huge chandeliers and thick, tinted windows.
Warner has a vast array of security measures set up, from fingerprint recognition built into the apartment’s defences to paid agents guarding the building itself. Even before Tom was kidnapped, he’s always taken safety seriously.
I suppose I can’t blame him for that. As team leader, it falls on his shoulders to ensure everyone’s protected. That’s why it cut so deep, that Luis was able to get into Tom’s apartment at all. He had security measures in place, but that didn’t stop him from being targeted.
Before I can scan my prints and toss the front door open with an excuse ready to roll off my tongue, the alarm disengages. Front door crashing open, a blur of purple-dyed, overactive energy escapes.
“Dimples! You’re home!”
“Jesus, Ax.”
Gangly limbs ensconced in ripped jeans and an oversized slogan tee almost knock me over. The impact causes me to huff as Axel envelopes me in a rib-grinding hug.
“You’ve been gone for seven hours!” he whines, words stretched with exaggeration. “And you didn’t reply to my text messages either.”
“Been… busy,” I choke out.
Despite being my height, Axel is a hellhound packing the power of a violent, cocaine-fuelled army in his numerous stacked muscles. No one could ever accuse him of being downbeat or lacking enthusiasm.
In fact, he’s a self-confessed whirlwind of playful energy who always craves attention. Whether he’s cracking wise or cracking skulls, Axel never fails to make an impact on the world. The degree of violence that impact entails depends on his mood.
“What kept you so busy that you couldn’t even reply to my messages?”
“I was working,” I wheeze through constricted breaths. “Dude, let me go.”
“No! You’ll run off again.”
“Ax—”
“Ugh. Fine.”
Surrendering me, Axel plants a sloppy kiss on my cheek then takes a step back. I glance over his soft baby face, bee-stung lips and vivid-honey eyes, standing in stark contrast to the visible tattoos that reach his throat and beyond.
With his solid build being covered in more ink than skin, his amethyst faux hawk and perpetual grin create a confusing parallel. He vibrates with infectious energy, managing to look both threatening and adorable at the same time.
“I was stuck here with the convict all day, combing through CCTV feeds,” he grumbles sulkily. “Alone! With that insane twat!”
“Blaine isn’t that bad.”
“He’s lucky I haven’t tossed his severed limbs off the roof yet. I’m not some psycho-sitting nanny, you know?”
“Did you find anything on the feeds?”
“Couldn’t even get a couple hours of rest because I can’t sleep in the same apartment as that freak show. He’ll gut me the first chance he gets.”
“Axel,” I groan impatiently. “Focus. The CCTV feeds.”
“Still nothing in Tom’s building.” He audibly sighs. “The footage is completely corrupted. Whoever’s running Luis’s tech, they’re good. In and out without a single second of video evidence.”
“Shit!”
“The intelligence team is working on the building opposite his to see if they can ID anyone leaving. They’ll have an update for us by morning.”
“We can’t wait that long!”
Huffing, I stomp inside the penthouse, ditching my backpack by the entrance. After a week spent cataloguing every last bit of forensic evidence we could unearth in Tom’s apartment, scouring public camera feeds and running facial recognition, we still have nothing.
Luis and his crew are skilled enough to crack a top-end security system and vanish without a trace. I have no doubt that Gael has the financial arsenal to hire the best in the business, but even if he’s got a master techie working for him, this is impressive work.
“Where are the others?” Axel clicks the door shut, re-engaging the alarm with a quiet beep.
“Not a clue.”
He’s silent for a moment.
“You know, Hyland called me.”
Whirling on Axel, I’m ready to strangle him with his insane t-shirt—the messy scrawl spelling out Me? Sarcastic? Never!— when he spreads his tattooed hands in surrender.
“You want to kick me off the team too?” I shout at him.
“Hey, hey. Ease up there, hot stuff. I’m not taking sides. He just told me to make sure you take your meds and rest until they’re back.”
“Oh, great,” I reply sardonically. “I would’ve forgotten otherwise. How ever would I live without his wonderful interference in my life?”
Snorting, Axel folds his arms. “I told him to fuck off on your behalf.”
“Thanks.”
“I know what the giant oaf is like.”
Toeing off my shoes, I kick them aside. “Batshit crazy?”
His full lips hook up in a grin. “That’s putting it politely.”
“Trust me, I have far worse I could say about him.”
“I’m sure. So can I get a hug now? I’ve been starved of love for hours.”
When his steely arms spread in invitation, I can’t help but step into Axel’s orbit. Enticing spice and masculine musk welcome me as he holds me against his chest.
“You’ve been fighting.” He nestles his chin on my shoulder. “Talk to me.”
“It’s just… sitting in that office, hopelessly trawling through traffic cams and local canvassing reports, waiting for someone to have a breakthrough… it got too much. I needed to punch something.”
“Then you should’ve called me.”
“And say what? You’d talk me out of calling Luis and taking his dumb deal too.”
Axel sucks in a breath, inhaling my scent. “Obviously I would have. Surrender is plain stupid. But we could’ve sparred together until that crazy brain of yours knocked itself out.”
“According to Hyland, I should be lounging around the apartment having some kind of bloody siesta. Not sparring or helping with the investigation.”
His purple-dyed head tilting, I feel Axel’s mouth nuzzling into the side of my neck. Hot and cold prickles seep over me, entangling with my spine and electrifying each nodule.
“Hyland is complicated,” he hedges.
“It’s rather simple. He’s an overbearing prick.”
Axel’s chuckle tickles my skin. “I’m not disagreeing with you.”
“Then explain to me what he’s thinking with this crap about freezing me out of the case.”
“Um… he may have mentioned suggesting that before you left. I told him it’s a bad idea.”
“He’s seriously out of order!”
“Not disagreeing, but he’s shit scared too.” Axel sighs loudly. “My guess? He’s grasping at what he can control right now. That includes your proximity to this mess.”
“ This mess is my life, Ax.” I force down the lump lodged in my throat. “I can’t just walk away from it.”
“I know, dimples. I’m sorry.”
My anger drains away at the soothing croon of his voice, penetrating the fog I stormed home in.
“It’s not your job to apologise for Hyland’s shit.”
“We’re a team, right?” Axel vibrates with a snort. “That makes us a real life, fucked up family. It’s my responsibility to manage Hyland’s shit as much as it is yours.”
“Then I want a divorce. I did not sign up for this crap.”
We both laugh, wrapped up in each other’s arms. For a moment, I can almost forget the looming deadline in my mind, counting down each second until I pull the plug on their little dictatorship.
“Suck it up, buttercup,” he chortles. “Family is for life.”
“Crap. I didn’t think this deal through.”
“No backsies. You’re one of us now.”
Kissing my braided head, Axel releases my body so he can hit me with a blazing smile. Fuck me gently, he has the most beautiful grin. Wolfish and sexy in all the best ways.
Before I can drag him back and seek out his sweet lips for myself, there’s a low, whistling sound. The surrounding air displaces as something slices through the gap that’s formed between us.
Barking a colourful expletive, I’m shoved backwards when Axel whirls on the spot to stare at where a small, black switchblade has embedded in the wall behind us.
“Motherfucker!”
“You’re welcome,” a voice drawls.
The crisp aristocratic accent reveals Blaine before I swivel to pin him with a stunned look. He casually lounges against the nearby, built-in bookcase, his slender arms and ankles crossed.
“What the hell?” I scowl at him.
“Just saving you from enduring the pup mauling you. Doing my civic duty and all.”
“You’re a fucking lunatic!” Axel explodes as he marches towards the stuck knife. “You could’ve killed me! Or Ember!”
“You think my aim is that bad?” Blaine frowns at him. “I’m offended.”
“You threw a goddamn knife at us!”
“And it landed exactly where I intended it to.”
“Jesus. You need your head examined, Madden.”
“Don’t manhandle Ember, and I won’t be forced to defend her honour. Simple.”
“I was not manhandling her!” Axel yanks the knife free. “Besides, who touches Ember is absolutely none of your business.”