Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
Every hair on my body stands on end when I turn around. So, this is why my sixth sense has been screaming. We had predators on our trail.
Tensing my hands, I center myself.
Axle’s red head lamp floods the small opening between the dense jungle foliage, casting the shadowy scene in nightmare shadows.
Three people. Axle. Allison. And some asshat with a sizable pistol.
“You picked the wrong guy.”
Axle’s rebuke is low, lethal, and scary quiet. The kind of calm that should make anyone think twice about what they’ve done.
If Axle is like Truck, this guy is seriously fucked up.
Moving at a snail’s pace, I draw my weapon from the holster at my lower back. If I play this right, I can take him down.
But all the cards have to align.
“Axle, take it easy.”
Unceremoniously, Axle opens his arms and dumps Allison on the ground.
She cries out in shock.
Dude. You didn’t.
Not only does that piss me right the hell off, if Truck saw that, he’d blow an artery.
But my focus snaps into sharper awareness when Allison pleads with the attacker.
Using his name.
“Thomas! Stop!”
How does she know this guy?
Wobbling to her feet, she tries to move closer. “Thomas, you’ve lost your mind! Put the gun down. These men are helping me.”
Finally, the name registers.
Thomas is common enough, but a memory clicks into place. This guy’s face matches an image from the missing person case file.
Thomas Moore is an employee of her father’s company. His job description was obscure, and now I know why.
This guy does her father’s dirty work. And he’s tracked us down, and the man is here to collect his boss’s daughter.
The night just went from bad to FUBAR.
I step toward them, control in my tone. “Thomas Moore, put the gun down. You’re not getting away from here if you hurt Axle or Allison.”
The man shifts his weight, that gun holds steady. But that’s not the crazy part.
That’s when Axle does something as unpredictable as his brother. Turning to face the intruder, he presses his forehead against the barrel.
The blazing recklessness in his expression is something you never want to see looking you in the face. It’s the kind of dangerous that will give a man nightmares for the rest of his life.
“Axle,” I warn. “Easy.”
Neck muscles corded, voice a biting hiss, Axle leans into the gun. “Now what, motherfucker ?”
The other man widens his stance, not blinking. Stone cold. Escalating the standoff. “Back up.”
“Fuck off and stick that gun up your ass. Or better yet, let me do it.”
Shit. “Hey, guys.”
Everyone ignores me.
Axle chuckles darkly and more hairs stand up on my arms.
That laugh would make most men double swallow and run for the hills.
Thomas is either dead on the inside or dude’s got more balls than I’d have thought given the looks of him. Polo shirts can be deceiving like that.
Allison is wobbling around now, bits of foliage clinging to her, and looking about as pissed as Axle.
My oh-shit meter pegs as she unleashes.
“Where’s Truck, what did you do with him?”
“Oh, isn’t this interesting? You’re worried about your boy toy?” A smirk crosses Thomas’s face.
“Where is he? she shouts, voice shrill. “You better not have done anything to him!”
Oh, mamma bear is gonna tear some Thomas up.
This isn’t escalating, it’s ignited, and something’s going to explode any second.
Thomas is in a fucking pickle now. He might lose some eyeballs, if not his whole brain.
Shifting between his feet, he finally shows a crack in his resolve. “Back. Up. Both of you.”
A branch snaps to my left making me mentally shake my head.
What now?
“You heard the man, you both need to back up!”
It’s another voice. A newcomer to the party.
A shadowy form materializes from the dense foliage. This one in tactical gear with night vision goggles.
He’s not with our team.
Well, fuck a duck and a duck and a duck.
Seconds later, a third man shows up at this little party. Allison, still wobbly, but clearly running on anger, stomps toward Thomas and for the love of god, she shoves the man.
Both her hands land on his chest.
He grunts and sways from the impact of her small body slamming into him.
“What did you do to Truck?”
It all happens fast.
Thomas’s split-second imbalance is the opening—and Axle being the SEAL he is, takes the pistol in a flash.
A wrist slap and a grab, and he’s got the gun pointed at Thomas over the top of Allison’s head.
“Not such a big man now, huh?” Axle shifts, repositions his fingers on the stock of the pistol he’s pointing at Thomas's brow. “Where’s our guy?”
“Hand her over, and we’ll give him back.”
Allison, also unhinged, hauls back and punches Thomas in the face, snapping back his head, shocking and pleasing the hell out of me.
She’s panting, furious, and ten feet tall. “Turn him loose now.”
Only now, my day is officially off the rails.
There are a lot of guns. More unknowns, and a weapon pointed at me. One pointed at Axle. One pointed at Thomas. And Truck may be a hostage.
Thomas works his jaw, glaring at Allison. “You come with us, he goes free. But I don’t care how many yahoos you have trying to stop us. We are taking you to your father.”
“That’s not happening,” I counter.
The man holding the gun on me shouts, “Listen the fuck up, everyone!”
He tips his NVG’s toward me. “These men mean nothing to us. Unless you want blood on your hands, you’ll come in peace. Otherwise, we start shooting. And this one’s first.”
Me.
He’s talking about dusting me and leaving me for the jungle wildlife.
Not my idea of a party. I’m not into wakes. Especially my own.
I’ve got a girl to wife up—well, I don’t have the girl yet, but I will.
And then there are the babies I’m gonna make. And lots of other shit that I’ve got all planned out.
“Whoa, now…” I rasp. “Let’s all take a big breath and talk about this.”
Allison’s eyes are snapping with fury, but when she looks at me, her chin tenses, then quivers, and the first cracks hit her resolve.
Dread spills over me, icy cold.
She does the unthinkable. “Put your guns down, and I’ll go. But they have to bring Truck here right now so we can see he’s safe.”
My eyelids flare.
This time, I don’t hide my headshake. “She’s not going with you.”
“Right,” dickhead beside me drawls. “She wants her lover to be safe.”
Lover? Oh Jesus. This is getting complicated.
I whistle to get everyone’s attention. “We were hired to find her. You’ve been sent to bring her back. Don’t you think we’re on the same side?”
Clearly not, given their tactics, but maybe my weird logic will add up to the idiots.
My question adds momentary confusion, and the three men share a strange look between them.
I grin internally. Fuck, yes. This could work.
“People, why don’t we coordinate a phone meeting with Allison's father to get to the bottom of this?”
Axle’s eyes flick to me. Unreadable.
What crazy shit is he thinking now?
I’ve never worked with the man, and now is not the time to try to figure out what his cryptic dead-eye stare is about.
Allison makes a sound, both sad and defeated. “I’ll go. No one needs to die here.”
“Except the stupid girl who doesn’t even carry the boss’s DNA,” mutters one of the masked intruders with a chuckle.
I pivot my head in his direction.
The other gunman shakes his head dramatically. “Did you just say that out loud?”
“Yep, he did,” I supply, feeling like I’m in some kind of weird black-ops spoof.
These clowns are just competent enough to be dangerous.
Only, the news about daddy’s paternity has landed like a bomb.
“What are you talking about? Jonathan Westerly is my father!”
“Yeah, about that…” Thomas smirks from his position in Axle’s sights. “You might want to ask him about a paternity test.”
I make a cutting motion across my throat. “I think we’re all done with the surprises for the day. Allison, they’re just fucking with your head.”
She breathes hard for a few seconds, swaying on her feet as she faces off with Thomas again. “You’re lying.”
“Nope,” Thomas replies after he licks his lips nervously, because Axle is now breathing like a bull and the veins in his forehead look like superhighways. “You need to come with us. Your father needs to see you. You can discuss this with him.”
“Right. If he’s not even my father, then he can go fuck off.”
Well.
I’m going to seriously high-five Allison when we get out of this clusterfuck alive. But her about-face on trading herself for Truck confuses me.
Is she playing them, hoping for a distraction?
The masked motor-mouth next to me strikes again. “You might want to think twice about that. He’s got something you want, and I’m not talking about the man.”
Allison goes eerily still. “What does he have?”
“A little sample you sent to a lab.”
Coiling like a snake that’s ready to strike, Allison’s whole body goes hyper-tense. “How did he get it?”
Axle is growling.
Thomas is starting to sweat, and his voice edges higher. “Can we put the guns down for this conversation?”
My eyes are ping-ponging to keep up.
“No,” Allison says tightly, waving her fingers at Thomas. “I need your phone so I can call that asshole.”
For some reason, I glance to the right, only moving my eyes.
Oh shit.
Incoming!
There’s barely enough time to duck.