Chapter 29
Chapter Twenty-Nine
And the hits keep on coming.
Justice slams the tunnel door, swinging a large deadbolt in place as I launch for Axle.
The calmness of the underground passage evaporated, replaced by the heavy staleness of a coffin.
"What kind of shit are you tangled up in?" I demand, supporting Axle's weight as we turn the other direction. The odds of running into my twin in this city are low, but when you’re both operatives, tunnels are a natural magnet.
Any operative worth his salt knows his escape routes.
"It wasn’t on purpose." His voice is strained. Blood seeps through his hospital scrubs, as his face pulls tight. "The company I work for has been compromised. Someone's selling secrets, and I uncovered it. That’s the reason I was in Vandemora, to put eyes on someone."
Justice has taken point, leading our small band of misfits, his weapon ready—low on ammo—but ready.
The pieces still don’t fit together, I prod for information. "Did they grab you out of the hospital?"
"Oh, no. That was all me." Axle grunts as his boot catches on an uneven tile. For a few seconds, he hisses in pain. When he starts to talk again, it’s harder for him to breathe.
"I… got… a message from a contact… and I knew I had to leave the hospital… Didn’t want them near you guys.” He takes a few deep breaths. “Allison didn't need to be… caught up in another clusterfuck."
For about two seconds, I appreciate that gesture. Then I’m over it. It’s hard to keep my tone civil. “But here we are.”
“I tried, bro. Didn’t know you’d be down here with the rats when I took to the tunnel.”
Fuck.
A pressure rising in my throat, I tighten my hold on my twin’s waist. We were never like this with each other.
The Reese Twins. Always together. Trouble times two. Covering each other’s asses for whatever shit we got into.
Now this.
Something in my chest shifts as I process what he said.
He tried to protect what’s important to me. The root of his reasoning isn’t me. He knows I can take care of myself. My team can too. But Allison is another story.
He was protective of Hope too.
More than I wanted.
But would he be a low-life motherfucker and screw my fiancée?
Insides iced over and full of thorns, I focus on putting one foot in front of the next. He leans hard on me.
“Thanks, brother.”
A nod is all I’m capable of.
"Guys..." Allison's voice calls nervously from behind us where she's bringing up our six. "Anyone else hearing footsteps?"
"Hustle, guys." I adjust my grip on Axle. "Justice, let’s make a turn."
We veer left at the next junction, the echo of a slow, steady pursuit growing louder.
They’re not running. And I’m not ready to sprint with Axle at my back. Because he sure as hell isn’t going to be running anywhere.
His breathing is labored, but as long as we’re steady, he keeps pace, long legs matching mine, stride for stride. Tough bastard.
"Almost there." Justice's red beam sweeps the passage as he looks around. "Our emergency exit should be—right there!"
A metal ladder—painted black and white—gleams in the light.
Highway to heaven.
Above us, a manhole cover blocks our escape. Only a small circle of daylight from shining down.
Throwing up a silent prayer that this is a good exit, and that we’re going to be extracted soon, I lean Axle against the wall.
He watches silently as I scramble up the rungs.
“Heavy son of a bitch,” I grind out.
The manhole cover scrapes against asphalt as I shove it aside. Thankfully, to a quiet street.
Step one done. But before I can descend to help everyone else, a shadow looms over me, making my hand go to my gun.
“The cavalry's here. Put that peashooter away,” Beast grumbles above me as his massive form fills my entire field of view.
Big bastard. He has a way of being right on time.
His hand juts down, latching onto mine. "Always in some kind of trouble."
With a heave, he hefts me up the last few feet.
"You know, it just finds me."
My mind goes to Allison. She found me, that’s for damned sure. But she’s good trouble. The kind I want to keep around.
"Make it fast. We're not very incognito." He jerks his chin toward the idling company truck.
It’s a carbon copy of the one that we left at the hospital. Just like the ones our team keeps destroying. The thing is decked out in tactical gear. Definitely not low profile.
Neither are four people crawling out of a manhole.
Beast’s operator’s gaze searches the street for threats as he straightens. "I don't want too many eyes on us."
“Roger that.”
I want nothing more than to be behind locked doors with my woman. “Come on, babe.”
She quickly climbs up to me.
“What, no ‘come on, babe,’ for me?” Axle laughs as both Beast and Justice help him out.
The man is pale, shaking, and bleeding—his scrubs are blotched with stains of red around his abdomen.
“Jesus, you look like you got shot.”
“Nah, just leaking.”
Bastard probably ripped himself all to pieces.
As I move Axle toward the truck, Justice manhandles the heavy manhole lid back into place. “Thanks for coming, boss.”
Looking pleased—as pleased as our team lead ever looks when he’s not with his girl—he mutters, “You’re too expensive to replace.”
Truth. A team like ours doesn’t come together easily or cheaply. Neither do the kind of trucks our company rigs out for us. Battle ready on the outside. Quiet luxury on the inside.
Hallelujah. We made it.
Allison groans as she leans back. “Thank god, we got out of there.”
The cool interior air and plush leather feel like paradise as I drop my head back onto the leather seat.
Allison by my side is the icing on the cake. Bare thigh brushing my leg, she’s warm, and soft, and exactly where I want her.
Safe.
A sense of rightness fills up my chest when I glance left.
Axle is at the other end of the seat, on the other side of Allison, staring at me. He tips his chin, then turns to look out the window, the dark hollows of his face more evident than before.
"Anyone hungry?" Justice asks from the front passenger seat as Beast takes a corner at high speed. "I know this place that makes the best tamales?—"
"Now?" Beast growls, checking the mirrors.
Of course, Justice looks like he’s out for a nice drive. He even steals Beast’s blackout sunglasses off the console.
This does not have a positive effect on Beast’s mood. "You're talking about food right now?"
Justice beams. He hangs on, his right hand clutching the oh-shit handle, motioning with the other. "Come on, boss. Near-death experiences make me hungry."
"Every damned thing makes you hungry."
Beast throws open the center console with one hand, while he drives with the other, and scoops out a handful of energy bars. He slings one to Justice and the rest to us in the back.
"These have nothing to do with tamales." Justice looks back at us for help. "Come on. Don't leave a guy hanging. We outnumber him."
I rip open a bar for Allison. “Not the best, but it will hold us?—”
“I had my heart set on some of those churros, but I’ll take…” She peers down at the rapper, squinting to read the small print. “A whey, oat, and spirulina bar any day over a bullet.”
Justice makes a gagging sound, but we all notice he opens the wrapper and takes a gigantic bite too.
That’s right. He knows better than to turn down calories.
I chuckle as I shove a whole bar in my mouth at once.
Shit, it feels good to be with my boys. And my girl.
My damned girl.
A warm lively sensation fills my chest. Fuck.
Are those butterflies?
Women talk about that. I thought it was a myth.
No, it’s more like helicopters. Thudding. Swooping.
Every back and forth between them unravels some of the aching tightness inside my body and makes those energized sensations grow.
Allison’s safe. She’s going to be mine. As sure as the sun rises.
I don’t care if she protests. I’ll win her. One way or another. And when I lock onto something I want, I bring every resource, every ounce of energy I have.
Kissing her temple makes her lean into me more.
Mine.
Closing my eyes, I accept that she’s safe. Surrounded by bad motherfuckers. We’re in one of our team trucks. It’s loaded for bear.
Shit, I forgot I was eating, I got so down the rabbit hole. After chewing the dry-as-fuck bar, I take a deep breath. The full kind that makes your cells relax.
“You good?” Her soft voice has the weight of a velvet wrecking ball.
“Yeah, really good.”
This feeling increases tenfold when Allison slides her hand beneath mine, linking our fingers together.
For a beat, I’m struck so hard with emotion, my throat gets tight like someone’s got me in a headlock.
"I swear to God," Beast cuts into my awakening, "Justice, if you mention tamales one more time, you're walking."
Mr. Comeback has no problem with going at it with the boss. "You know you want some. They're life-changing. Ask Scout. He cried the first time?—"
"Fine!" Beast yanks the wheel, narrowly missing a fruit cart. "I'll send someone for your damn tamales once we get to the farm. Now shut up and let me drive!"
Our team lead is laughing under his breath. The rest of us are chuckling too. Despite everything, I let my smile broaden. Happy to the tips of my water-logged boots.
Justice. He’s an enigma. Full of shits-and-giggles, but one of the calmest, coldest operatives I know. Like a chameleon.
Quickly becoming a close friend, too. Not like when we were in the Teams. This is different. Warmer.
Justice sits back, looking pleased. Tapping his fingers on his knee. "See, you made my day, that's all I ever wanted."
Beast glances at him, then snatches the sunglasses off Justice’s face. “Until next time. It will be something else.”
As they go back and forth, Allison leans into me, her body still trembling slightly.
Jesus, I should have wrapped her in my arms already.
"You’re shivering. You okay?"
She nods. Those pretty lips curve up as she looks up at me. "I’m fine. Just another day in paradise."
"Some paradise." I brush my lips against her brow, exhaustion tugging on my body, pressing me further into the seat. "But it's about to get better...We got a date with a shower."
"God, yes." She practically moans the words.
That sound does things to me. This dance between us is about to come to an end. The kind that leaves us naked, covered in perspiration, and drunk off of each other.
She nestles closer and after a few minutes, the tension leaves her body. Her breathing evens out.
Beast casts a glance in the mirror, and I give him a narrowed glare. He better not so much as hit a pothole.
On the other end of the bench seat, Axle chuckles.
We lock eyes.
The pretense falls.
There’s something unexplainable about looking at your twin. A silent cord. A communication many will deny, but it happens like it always happened for us.
He breaks away, glancing at Allison then back at me.
“Glad for you,” he murmurs.
“I’m scared as fuck.” Keeping my voice to a whisper, I admit aloud what I’ve been struggling with since Allison walked into my life.
“Trust her to help you.”
Sage words.
He nods and looks away, and I’m staring out the window, my chest stuffed full of emotion when his breathing gets even and his sleepy head drops to the window on his side.
Leaving me alone and raw.
Fuck. Fucking fuck.
I’m not good at this emotional shit. Not after Hope died. Hell, I wasn't even good at it before. But now I’ve got to face my demons.
After Allison and I have time—much needed quiet—to feel out this next step for us, Axle and I are going to talk. Really fucking talk.
No egos. No anger.
Just getting to the bottom of the crevasse between us. The one that lies in a grave in Maryland with my engagement ring on her finger…because of me.
An hour later, Beast pulls into the farm's hidden entrance. No sign of pursuit. A collective sigh from Justice and Beast.
Axle stirs awake when we stop.
I’m wrung out. Emotionally, physically, in ways I didn’t know a man could be wrung out. But I feel more whole than I have in years.
"Justice, help me get Axle into a bedroom," Beast orders as he bolts out of the vehicle. "Truck, get your girl somewhere safe."
“Roger that.”
Safe. Warm. Comfortable. In my arms.
I scoop her small form up, whispering, “Just me, we’re home.”