22. Izzie Medina
22
Izzie Medina
ALICE
From time to time, music reaches into my soul to meld a glimmering fragment of the artist into the fabric of my very being. Hozier was one of those artists for me. Especially so when I had too many emotions to grapple with and no safe space to grapple in.
To the serenade of his Gaelic lyrics, tears streaming down my cheeks, I drew .
My fingers ached with how long I’d whisked charcoal across paper.
Again and again, I started the piece only to throw it in the trash bin.
There was no perfection. Nothing adequate enough for Izzie Medina of Yuma, Arizona. The server whose name I hadn’t bothered to learn.
Nothing was lifelike enough to capture the fear in those shallow eyes or how she rolled her lips between her teeth when she looked over her shoulder. Nothing could do justice to the woman who I was convinced had somehow… known . Known what I would overhear if she just got me to that bathroom. Known I’d put it together and fight to protect Greyson.
That palpable anxiety in her fidgeting fingers had nothing to do with a catering gig and everything to do with what she needed me to know.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” I breathed, running my thumb across her lips to blend the shades. I knew better, but fuck anybody who limits your tools to pretentious store-bought items when skin works just fine. “Why didn’t you tell me?” I muttered, replaying the fear pouring from her in waves. She’d known . Somehow, she’d known. Had she been a victim herself? Tucked in plain sight? I couldn’t wrap my head around that idea, though. Not any better than I could erase the picture of her they’d plastered over the news the last few days.
Grey, Jackson, and Max were all hunting for answers. Attempting to find a very small needle in a very large haystack for any connection or correlation.
Izzie didn’t have much known family.
She grew up in the south of Arizona.
Had no local relatives.
No easily identified features like tattoos on her skin.
Which, from what I’d read, made her…well, the perfect target. This meant if her body hadn’t turned up, it might have been months before anybody knew she was gone.
And I very well may have been the last person that saw her alive.
Greyson had doubled our security at the house and the office, and Jax’s men were on a rampage to find answers.
“It’s beautiful,” Greyson said, startling me as he came up behind me, wrapping me up in a hug and nuzzling into my neck. “ She’s beautiful,” he amended, resting his chin on my shoulder as he looked up to the portrait of Izzie clamped onto my easel. All I could do was nod.
“Anything?” I breathed.
“ Obsidian has gone to ground, according to tech. Nothing on the Izzie front for us or EBPD.”
“It wasn’t a coincidence.”
“I know,” he breathed matter-of-factly. Grey never doubted me once. Never pressed back on my suspicions.
“I can’t shake the feeling she was warning us.”
“ I know. ” He pressed a quick kiss to my cheek before straightening and stepping in front of my stool to cup my face in his hands, forcing me to meet those fiery hazels. “But you have to come downstairs and eat. I didn’t see you stop for lunch today. Or yesterday, for that matter. And a banana hardly constitutes as breakfast.”
“I’m fine.”
“Alice, baby. I know this weighs heavy—believe me, I do. But it is not your fault. Hell, it isn’t my fault. Thunderstrike is in full-scale counterattack mode, and we don’t even have proof she understood what she’d stumbled into. Not everyone is convinced the two are related.” My phone buzzed, cutting off the music, and we both turned to see Max’s name across the screen. Greyson glanced at me and then stretched over to accept the call. “Evening, Max, what do you have?”
“Well, how do you do to you too, Hart.”
A watery laugh cracked my face into a smile. “Hey, Maxi. How’s it going?”
“Pretty good, thanks, manners . Work has been chaotic; big Jake has gone mic-happy with the town arm wrestling match again this year, Luca Morretti asked me to dinner, and your accounts still appear secure.”
Brow furrowed, Greyson clarified, “So, whatever transfer occurred at the auction didn’t touch us directly?”
“Or it wasn’t monetary,” Max agreed. “From what I can tell, still no movement on the dark web, although if they’ve caught onto us, I might start from scratch in the next day or so.”
“What about Izzy?” Grey pressed, his eyes roving over my drawing.
“She was a ghost, man. No detectable ties, although if she was a victim, there wouldn’t be.”
“Keep me apprised of any changes.”
“Obviously,” Max said in his best impression of Alan Rickman.
“Wait,” I interjected as Grey went pensive. “Max, did you say you’re going out with Luca Moretti?”
“I may have slipped that under the radar.”
Well, that at least made me smile. He’d had a crush on the kid back in high school, but his older brother stood Elora up for prom, and then they became public enemy number one. He’d never taken his chance at happiness. “Wow, long time coming.” Even my ears could tell the words were flatter than he deserved. “Hope you have a great night. Don’t take any of that Moretti bullshit.”
“Never,” he said triumphantly. “Alright, love birds, I gotta run. Just wanted to keep you posted on the whole lot of nothing on my end.”
“Thanks, Max,” we responded in unison.
“Love you,” I added sadly. I missed him. Missed home. Everything suddenly felt glaringly out of place. Predominantly, this small-town Alaska girl with her nose in mercenary business and murder.
“Love you, too, menace. Keep your chin up. But…be safe, okay?” He took a long breath, and if it was anybody but Max, I’d be suspicious that he was hiding something. “Night guys.”
When the line disconnected, Greyson tugged me off my stool and to my feet, promptly whisking me into his arms. “Come on, beautiful, let me make you something to eat.”
I raised a teasing brow as I reared back. “ You’re going to make me something to eat?”
“Hey, dumping prepped food in a saucepan counts.”
“Just impressed you know the word saucepan, though I assure you it wasn’t designedto reheat entire meals.” Giggling, I let him tuck me under his arm and lead me downstairs. Commotion caught my attention as we stepped off the bottom step and I glanced toward his office—which had transformed into an impromptu war room—where Jax was leading a meeting with a handful of their guys. All ex-military, all tragically good-looking if you were into scars, tattoos, and militantly tight hair. The idea of the Obsidian web moving this close to their home turf had the guys up in arms. Literally.
My dumb ass thought I could handle this. Loving him when I knew he was tangled in something dangerous. But knowing he was funding a campaign against traffickers and seeing him bent over the desk, glaring at the white boards littered with information with death in his eyes, surrounded by beefy mercenaries, certainly put my assumptions into perspective and?—
Loving…him?
Breath filling my ribs in a rapid pump, I glanced up at Greyson as he led me to the kitchen island. Did I…did I love him? Of all the humans on the planet, had I run off and fallen in love with my boss ?
Stunned stupid by that terrifying realization, I slunk into the bar stool when he prompted me to. I watched him walk around the corner to pull out pre-portioned meals to prepare for us. An unlikely warmth swelled in my chest, and I found myself melting into my chair back with a hand pressed to my lips as I watched him.
Certainly didn’t have this one on my bingo card.
T-Minus Two Weeks To The Kickoff of Emerald Bay Bomber Season
The next week went by in a blur of endless meetings and long hours at work, which, to my eternal gratitude, now included Grey and I sitting side-by-side in the corner office. If our hours were going to be astronomical, at least we could spend them lusting after each other while we both paced on our phone calls or muttered curses at our keyboards. The influx of end-of-summer projects provided a mind-numbing distraction, at the very least. Q-four was always packed to the gills for us, and this was no different. The only difference was my title, and the fact that Tiffany, our COO, was basically treating me like a mentee after Greyson groomed me for the position without my knowing.
To my simultaneous elation and horror, the vast majority of the Rhodes dirty dozen would be arriving by the middle of next week so that we could all spend some time together before watching Paxton break in his new stadium. While I wanted nothing more than to wrap them all up and listen to the familiar cacophony of too many voices in one space, the idea of them being here if Obsidian was operating inside our city made me nauseous.
Grey had—not at all helpfully—let me know Obsidian and the networks like them operate out of most major cities, along with some smaller ones. I guess he was trying to reassure me we’d just been oblivious and had all been fine, but it had the opposite effect. By Friday, at least the war room meetings had dwindled enough for my adrenaline not to spike every time I walked in the front door, which is why I finally felt free enough to soak up some evening blue hour on the beach when I got home. Grey had a few calls left, but a moment of solitude sounded ideal. Well…solitude plus Chip, and our forever-shadow, Jax. Our little rescue was sweet as pie, and seemed to like the beach as much as I did, although not if the waves had the audacity to get him wet.
My phone buzzed and, muttering curses that I hadn’t silenced the damn thing, I fished it out of my denim short pockets.
Max
You know that episode of Friends where Monica gets to dump that douche from high school?
Alice
Yeah?
Max
Me=Monica. Luca=Douche from high school.
Alice
Nooooooo
Sitting up straighter, I stared down at the screen, shaking my head as his texts rolled in.
Max
Twelve years later, and he’s exactly the way I remember him.
Alice
I mean… didn’t you like him?
Max
He never bothered to grow up.
His parents still house the little shit, and he’s still working at the damn roller rink.
THE ROLLER RINK, ALICE.
All I could think is I wasted my high school years pining after this boy, only to get to know him at thirty and wonder what floor balcony his mother dropped him from.
I give up. Kaia is right; men are stupid.
Alice
Men are stupid, but there are occasionally the Greysons of the world.
Max
He’s stupid too.
Alice
Rude.
Max
Took him two years to make a move. I don’t have two years.
I ignored the pang of bitterness that if we hadn’t been cornered, he wouldn’t have even made a move now.
Alice
Your ovaries are shriveling?
Max
Har har har. I’m just…
…
Ready to settle down.
Alice
*gasping gif*
Did you just…
Max
I just.
Chip wiggled his way up onto my lap, licking my chin as he stared up into my eyes expectantly. “Weird times, Chip,” I muttered, encasing his entire head in my palm and giving him a little ruffle before stroking each ear, much to his tail-wagging delight. “ Weird times.” Returning my focus to the screen, I tapped out a response.
Alice
I’m in love with Greyson Hart, and my Maximus is all grown up and ready to plant roots. Hell really did freeze over. Okay, so let’s look at the stats. What are you looking for?
Max
My soul mate.
Alice
Yes. I got that part.
What qualities are you hoping he’ll possess?
Max
Oh. That. Please hold. The bar has lowered, and I need to evaluate.
I watched the three dots appear and vanish twice before tossing my phone down on the blanket I’d laid out. Much to Chip’s pleasure, it freed up my other hand to commence obligatory pets, squishes, and tiny belly rubs. The blue gloom of approaching night made it hard to spot much beyond the white froth of the surf, but the sound lulled me into a sense of peace for the first time all week.
Quiet.
When in doubt, quiet is the answer. Absentmindedly stroking over Chip’s fur, I wondered if Grey ever would have said something about that maddening attraction . Wondered if I hadn’t quit, if the allegations hadn’t hit…if he ever would have made a move.
Unlikely, I supposed. Perhaps years down the road, once I was an executive and there was less paperwork involved?
Somehow, the thought was immensely disappointing. Especially as images of his smile, the ringing of his laugh, the feel of his stubble against my thighs all ran through my mind. With a sigh, I traded Chip for the pen and notebook I’d tucked into my tote bag, and he harrumphed into a tight little ball against my thigh.
Elora was a huge proponent of journaling, and while I wasn’t nearly as enthusiastic as she was, I had to admit it helped the last few weeks.
A tiny, cold nose booped my wrist as I finished filling the second page, sending the ink off the edge. He gave a little shiver as the breeze kicked up, rotating to sit and stare back at the house. By the time I’d turned my attention to my miniature-sized furry companion, the last of the light had vanished.
Without warning, Chip leaped from my side, bristling as he growled at the waves in that compact voice of his. Every hair on my skin rose before I could assess whatever had him ticked off.
But Jax’s bellowed warning had me flying upright, sending sand flying.
“Alice, run !”
Greyson
Between being a much more active participant with Thunderstrike since Izzie’s murder, and tackling a massive merger at work, my shoulders and head were both aching by the time I got home Friday evening. The house was mellow, and while I couldn’t wait to hold her, Alice looked entirely at peace on our beach with Chip in her lap and Jax keeping eyes out behind them.
Better to let her be and catch up once my head wasn’t throbbing so adamantly. Like a hammer between the eyes. Captain glued himself to my thigh, quirking his head as I deliberated going to her or clearing my head, following when I decided on the latter.
Upstairs, stripped, and under the deluge of water, I took a minute to breathe. Captain dramatically collapsed onto the tile floor with a series of thuds, huffs and sighs that ultimately landed with him watching me through the glass. His obligation to lay on the tile was obviously deeply ailing.
Linking the Gilberts to Obsidian wasn’t so much surprising as disheartening but only marginally less horrifying than our suspicions about Reggie—though his connection was yet to be verified. If money and power came with responsibility, why did so many of my peers collapse into evil? Some part of my mind said it was because money doesn’t change people, it simply magnifies them. The selfish, desperate, and cruel remain that way. They just have more influence after clawing their way into the upper echelon of society. My uncle, father, and grandfather were cruel, scared, and spineless as children and became bullies who hid behind their wealth. On the opposite end of the spectrum were people like Alice, who suddenly had access to and influence over more money than most people saw in a lifetime and used it to fund scholarships for foster dog-parents and provide aid to families affected by wars in countries we would never see. She was loving before wealth. The money just gave that love a reach more people could feel.
It was the low rumble in Captain’s chest, his enormous head lifting from where it rested on his paws and staring at the far wall that drew my focus.
“Cap?” I demanded as I stepped out of the shower, snatching a towel from the rack. Instincts rearing to life as I watched his muzzle twitch, I forgot about drying off and rushed into boxers, but before I’d yanked on sweatpants, Captain’s growl spiked, and he bolted from the room, barking his damn head off.
Alice.
Panic hit like a SWAT team battering ram. I couldn’t remember the last time my dog alerted.
Bypassing a shirt and shoes, I made my way to my bedside table to retrieve the firearm concealed within the lockbox beneath it and bolted after him.
My usually mellow canine was feral at the back door, jaw snapping, saliva flying, bark more of a desperate cry. “ Defend! ” I ordered as I wrenched the handle and threw it wide. Outside was a calamity of noises all at once—Jax’s bellowed demand for my wife to run, Alice’s scream and the keening wail of what I assumed was Chip. My feet were flying before I had the luxury of my eyes adjusting to the darkness. By the time I crested the beach, I could see enough.
Two assailants.
One intercepted by Jax, the other chasing Alice, where she was fighting gravity and the dunes of sand to get back to me.
Chip flew by my ankles in a screeching blur of white.
The second assailant lunged for Alice, my shout of warning too late as he lifted her off her now-kicking feet. A curtain of sand flew as she screamed, and he expertly positioned her between us, still pulling her away from me.
I dropped the gun I’d raised on instinct, barreling after Captain’s streak of shadow slicing through the night. That ferocious growl came to a crescendo a beat before he collided with her attacker, and all three tumbled into the sand.
“Alice!” I bellowed, more so she knew I was coming for her than anything. A male voice wailed in agony as she sobbed my name back, and my heart broke in two. I had to move faster. Had to reach her. Had to get there in time.
A corner of my mind registered the house alarm finally screeching to life, floodlights powering on to illuminate the yard, enough falling onto the skirmish to make more sense of what I was seeing. The alarm system would send security responding like a fleet of pissed-off wasps and notify the police. But the entire world ceased to exist beyond Alice.
My wife was scrambling to her feet by the time I reached her—the yard expanse suddenly an eternity of torture—and it took all my training to keep my head on a swivel, to make sure there weren’t more men coming for us as Captain’s livid snarls and the attacker’s cries of pain clouded my head.
Determining these two were alone, I scooped her into my arms before hoisting her behind me. Rotating to follow, determined to get her out of harm’s way, I shoved her up the sand onto our grass and demanded, “ Run !”
My girl ran, but only for a breath before Captain’s bark turned into a desperate cry of pain. His growls returned, but the next whine had me whirling. Yip after yip, snarl after snarl, as the assailant jammed his fist into my dog.
My Cap.
My heart crashed as I saw the hold of his fist and the glint of metal in the floodlights.
Alice was screaming for Captain now, my mind rioting along with her as I pushed her toward the house. “ Run, baby ! Get inside!”
I raised my firearm, taking aim as the coward hit him again. With a pained whine, Cap fell to the earth this time.
Two consecutive gunshots cleaved the night.