Chapter 6
Chapter Six
The water from the shower pounded down just beyond the closed bathroom door. Ronan glared at the door even as Luna’s words played through his head again.
You’re only pretending to be a hitman.
No shit. If he hadn’t been pretending, she would be dead.
Except…
She thinks I’m a Fed. That I’ve been working undercover this whole time. And the reason why she thought that? Because Gray had opened his big-ass mouth and talked about how Ronan had helped him, over and over again. Hell. Ronan had known that would be problematic the instant Gray had uttered those unfortunate words. Gray had always been the chattiest bastard in their group.
Now Luna knew the biggest secret that he kept. And if she told the wrong person…
I’ll be the dead one.
He stalked toward the bathroom door. Glanced at his watch. Okay, seriously, enough. How long did she intend to stay in the shower? His hand lifted and rapped against the door.
Nothing.
Just the thunder of the shower.
Suspicion curled in his gut. Surely, she wouldn’t. The woman would not leave the shower water pouring in an attempt to trick him as she fled through the narrow bathroom window. Surely…not. “Luna?” Another pound with his fist. “Luna!”
Shit. She just might have. And I was so blindsided by her charge that I didn’t plan for this screwup. He grabbed the knob of the door, twisted it, and threw the door open. “Dammit, Luna?—”
“ Ah!” Luna’s scream.
Her scream as she spun in the narrow shower with the glass door and stared at him, wide-eyed. One hand rose to try and cover her breasts. Another dipped down to the V between her legs. The water poured over her. Steam drifted in the air. And, sonofafucker, the woman was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. He took a step toward her.
“What are you doing?” Luna cried. She kept her hands in place. They did not hide much. “You can’t just bust in here! I’m naked!”
Yes. Beautifully naked. And he was gaping. And his dick was way too hard and ready. And this was not what any gentleman would do. The problem was that Ronan had not been a gentleman in a long time. “Thought you’d run.” Rasped.
“What?” She did a little hop in the shower as the water cascaded over her body. That wonderful body. “And could you look up?”
His gaze shot up. “Thought you’d run,” Ronan repeated. Rougher. Louder. Would that shower be big enough to hold them both? Because she’d very clearly told him that she wanted him, and he…
Yes, he wanted her. So badly that his whole body ached.
He’d thought the night had been torture. It was nothing compared to seeing her wet, naked body. And knowing that the only thing that separated them? That thin piece of glass.
“I’m naked, Ronan.”
Yes. Indeed. One hundred percent naked. And wet. And sexy.
“I’m not running anywhere naked. Grayson said you were my best bet of staying in the land of the living. I don’t plan on trying to escape from you.”
“You can’t.” Why was speaking so hard? He pulled in a breath. “You can’t escape. I’d just find you.”
“I’m naked. ”
Again, yes. Indeed.
“Be a gentleman. Go out. Shut the door.”
Yes. He should do that. He actually even managed to take one whole step back. But then he had to warn her, “I’m not a gentleman.” Something she should have already realized. Probably when he drugged her. Or handcuffed her.
Their gazes held.
Her lips parted.
Before he gave in to the savage need slicing through him, Ronan finally dragged his ass out of the bathroom. He hauled the door shut. Whirled. Marched the hell out of the bedroom and through the cabin and out onto the porch where he sucked in deep gulps of air because holy hell, the lust that held him in its grip was red-hot. He could not ever remember wanting someone so badly.
She’s a target. A target. You are not supposed to cross that line with her. This is just business. His head understood this vital bit of information. His dick? Not so much. But his dick had never exactly been a thinker.
Ronan sucked in another deep, bracing breath. The sunlight trickled through the trees around the property, and he could hear the call of a dozen different insects, as well as the deeper, harder croaks of the alligators that waited nearby.
He still wore the pants he’d had on yesterday. Shoes, socks. An old, black shirt that had been left behind in the cabin. She’d taken his white dress shirt into the bathroom. She’d been wearing the damn thing and looking sexy as fuck as he talked on the phone.
The bastard wanted me to cut off her finger and send it to him.
Yeah, that tracked with some of the whispers he’d heard about Marcus Constantine Aeros. The guy was rumored to be cold-blooded as hell. Untouchable. And as sadistic as they came. But the whole finger collecting business? That reeked of being a trophy routine. Did the guy always keep mementos of his kills? If so, that would be one interesting bit of news to pass along to Gray. Because if they could find the bastard’s stash, they would be able to tie him to so many crimes.
And finally nail his ass to the wall.
Provided, of course, they could find the stash. In Ronan’s experience, the perps like Marcus always kept their precious mementos tucked away in an ever-so-secret spot.
The faint growl of an approaching engine had Ronan tensing. His head tilted toward the sound. Definitely a car. One coming his way.
His borrowed cabin was the only one in this particular area of the bayou. He certainly hadn’t thought any visitors would be coming his way…
Fuck.
Was he really going to have to start his day by killing some bastard?
The growl of the engine grew louder.
Sure looks that way.
It was Kurt’s lucky fucking day. And normally, he didn’t have lucky days. He’d never been lucky, or he wouldn’t be working for his prick of a cousin now. He’d be the one calling the shots, instead of following orders and cleaning up the messes that Marcus left behind. Marcus was truly a messy, bloody bastard.
But this time, luck was on his side. That beautiful, sweet lady.
Because he’d been driving into the freaking swamp or bayou or whatever the hell it was, he’d been cursing and grumbling and wiping sleep from his eyes and thinking he’d never find Ronan Walker’s hiding spot and then…like a gift from above…
He’d spotted the other car in front of him. Just a quick glint of light on metal as the sunlight hit the vehicle before it turned. But, he’d seen it, and he’d decided to follow the bastard. Why not?
Not like there were a ton of options out there, and he’d wondered if maybe he’d just gotten lucky.
So he stayed far back. He tightened his grip on the steering wheel, and when the other vehicle stopped near a ramshackle cabin, he stopped, too. Stopped far enough away that he wouldn’t be spotted by the other driver.
“Holy fuck,” Kurt breathed. He’d just hit pay dirt. Because according to the news story he’d picked up, some frat guys had seen Ronan Walker dump Luna Black’s body into the trunk of a dark BMW.
A dark BMW was partially hidden under the nearby slope of a willow tree. He could see it from his tucked away position.
My lucky day.
Only…
The driver he’d been following climbed from his vehicle while Kurt continued to watch and wait. That bastard is big and scary and…hold up. Is he heading right for my prey? “Shit,” he whispered. Was this one of Ronan’s buddies? Because Kurt had come alone, on the boss’s orders.
He was either staring at one of Ronan’s friends—and that would be highly problematic or…
Or are you also someone who came to eliminate the prick that is Ronan Walker?
Kurt pulled out his gun. The weight felt good in his hands.
Time to kill some bastards and get back to Bourbon Street. He’d had one hell of a time the night before. Friend of Ronan’s or foe, well, Kurt would just kill the big bastard. Didn’t matter how big you were, a bullet to the back of the head would take you right out. And Kurt did enjoy sneaking up on his prey.
Luna had no choice but to put back on her black bra and panties—and Ronan’s oversized shirt. It was either wear the same items or try to use the thread-bare towel to cover herself as she went out and faced off with her new guard.
She’d gone with the borrowed shirt over the towel. At least the shirt provided more coverage.
Her wet hair trailed over her shoulders as she pulled open the bathroom door.
He looked like he wanted to eat me alive.
Yes, it had been steamy in the bathroom, but there had been no mistaking the expression on Ronan’s face and in his bright gaze. He’d wanted her.
Meanwhile, she didn’t know what to do about the needs and emotions swirling inside of her.
Just tell me that you’re a Fed. Don’t let me think I’m lusting after someone who is evil in his core. Her instincts told her that she was right about him. And Grayson had vouched for Ronan, so that had to mean he was good. Or at least, it had to mean that Ronan wasn’t the devil incarnate.
The hardwood floor squeaked beneath her bare feet. “Ronan?” A little too weak. She cleared her throat and tried again. “Ronan, we need to talk.” Maybe she should just put on her muddy clothes from the night before. Because walking around just in his shirt made her feel all sorts of vulnerable and unsteady on the inside.
He wasn’t in the small bedroom. She walked out, headed into the little den and—still no Ronan. Her hands went to her hips as she turned her head and glanced toward the connecting kitchen.
Again, no Ronan.
She was the only one in the cabin. After keeping her handcuffed, the guy had run out on her? Now? Not cool. She swung for the front door. Took a step toward it.
The door flew open.
Only it wasn’t Ronan standing there.
A huge bear of a guy with jet-black hair and a face cut from stone filled the threshold. His shoulders brushed the doorframe, and his hazel eyes glittered as they narrowed on her. He wore all black, and the color choice just made him look extra intimidating. As if he needed any help in the extra department.
The fact that he was blocking her exit? Terrifying.
And the fact that Ronan wasn’t around? So very bad.
The stranger’s gaze raked her, and, if possible, his expression hardened even more.
Then the guy took a menacing step toward her.
“Ronan!” His name tore from her as a high-pitched scream because what if this man had done something to Ronan? What if he’d killed Ronan while she’d been in the shower? What if this scary stranger was someone else who’d been sent to murder her? “Ronan!”
At her cries, the stranger lunged for her. She grabbed a lamp from the nearby table—one that had antlers as its base—and she threw it at the charging man. Then she whirled and tried to dart back to the bedroom. Maybe she could escape through the window in that room. Ronan had gotten out that way the previous night. She could do the same thing. If she could just make it there.
Only, she didn’t make it to the bedroom. Because the big guy caught her. He flipped her around and pinned her against a wall. He?—
He had a knife at his throat.
“Let her the fuck go,” Ronan rasped. Because Ronan was standing behind the stranger. Ronan had a knife at the man’s throat.
Ronan was still alive. Her breath shuddered out, and a wide smile slid over her face. “I am so glad you’re alive.”
The stranger blinked. He also didn’t let her go, despite the fact that there was a knife at his throat.
“Is that any way to treat a friend? Where are your manners?” A deep, dark rumble from the man who held her. The man with a knife at his jugular. “Here I am, trying to help out, and you decide to play with knives. Bad form, Ronan. Bad.”
Wait, wait, wait. Was this terrifying stranger a friend of Ronan’s?
“Drop the knife,” he ordered, “and I’ll let your girlfriend go.”
“You let her the fuck go,” Ronan snapped back, “because otherwise—friend or no friend—we will have a problem.”
“Like that, huh? I did wonder, especially when I realized the shirt she was wearing had to be yours. Got to say, I’m surprised at you. Didn’t think you were the type to screw a witness?—”
He was hauled from her before he could finish. Fast. Jerked away. Shoved several feet, and suddenly Ronan’s broad back was in front of her. She pressed onto her toes so she could peek over his shoulders.
“Do not start with me right now, Kane.” Ronan pointed at the other man. Kane. “What in the hell are you doing here? How are you here?”
“I’m here—obviously—to help. Because I am a helper.” His giant hands spread in the air before falling back to his sides. “As to the how, well, I drove, of course. Not like I flew in on my angel wings.”
Ronan growled.
Kane smiled. “It’s good to see you, too, old buddy.”
Her hands pressed to the back of Ronan’s shoulders. “I thought he’d killed you,” she murmured.
He stiffened beneath her touch, then whirled toward her. And instead of her hands being on his shoulders, they were now pressed on his chest.
“Thought he was working for…” A swift inhale as her heart raced hard in her chest. “Marcus.” His image popped into her head when she said his name, and a shiver skated over her body. “Thought he’d killed you and was coming for me next.”
“The day Kane gets the drop on me is the day that will never hap— Hell. ” Ronan’s words ended in an angry exclamation because there was a knife now at his throat.
Kane whistled. “What day won’t happen? Because I think I just?—”
In a blink, the knife was gone. Ronan twisted around, yanked at Kane’s wrist, and sent the knife clattering to the floor. Now the two men were eye to eye, glaring and it was just?—
“Stop!” Her sharp cry. She shoved between them. “You’re not enemies.” At least, that was what she was getting from the scene and their weird conversation. “You’re…friends?” Something like that. “Could we be sane a moment and stop with the knife play? Not a big fan. Super not. I’ve had enough stitches and don’t want more, thanks so much.”
The men were much taller than her, so they glared at each other easily over Luna, but, after a tense moment, Kane stepped back. He rolled his shoulders. Then he winked at Ronan. “Got the drop on you.”
“Yes, you sneaky sonofafucker, you did.”
Kane laughed. “Also got a change of clothes for you in the car.” His gaze dipped over Luna. “Clothes for you both because though she looks sexy as hell, I’m thinking she can’t go out in that shirt. She’ll attract way too much attention.”
Ronan growled. Again. A deep, rumbling, primitive sound.
Kane shook his head. “Not hitting on her. Relax. Just stating a fact. You’re the one who has been screwing her, not me. So much for that code of yours, huh, Ronan? Not getting involved? Never being tempted? Such a bunch of BS. What was it? One night with her, and you were a goner?”
She felt her cheeks burn. “Nothing happened last night between me and Ronan.” She still had one hand on his chest. She dropped the hand as if it had been burned. “I had to wear his shirt because when I ran from him, he tackled me, and I hit the mud. My clothes were ruined.”
“You…ran from him.” Kane’s forehead scrunched.
“I thought he was going to kill me. And he’d handcuffed me to his bed.”
Kane choked. His eyes also flared wide.
“But he only tackled me because I think I was about to step on a snake. I wasn’t looking down.” She’d been looking up, searching for lights. “But he caught the snake and threw it away before it could bite me.”
Now Kane’s jaw dropped. His gaze slammed toward Ronan. “You willingly touched a snake?”
“It was going to bite her,” Ronan gritted out. “Couldn’t let that happen. The job is to keep her alive.”
“Uh, huh.” Kane had snapped his jaw closed. “Yep, that’s what you do. Keep people alive. Check.”
Enough of this. She squared off with Kane. “You’re a Fed?” He had to be. Just like Grayson. Just like she suspected Ronan was.
But Kane laughed. In her face.
Rather rudely.
“Oh, hell, no.” More booming laughter from Kane. “You think I could survive wearing those shitty suits and stiff shoes? Nah. Not the life for me. I’m freelance. Strictly freelance.”
Not reassuring. “How exactly do you know Grayson and Ronan?”
“Semper Fi,” he murmured.
Semper Fi. She knew that phrase. “You’re a Marine?”
“Former. Strictly civilian these days. Or, mostly civilian.” His killer smile—a toothy tiger’s smile—came and went. “Can’t really say more than that. Classified intel and all.”
So that was a bit scary to know. But if he was working classified cases and he was tight with Ronan and Grayson…she whirled back for Ronan. “You’re a good guy!”
He blinked.
“Semper Fi.” A nod from her. “That means always faithful , doesn’t it? And you keep saving me. Protecting me. Grayson has you on guard duty.” A wide smile spread over her own face. “I didn’t want to fuck the bad guy. I wanted to fuck the hero.” She threw her arms around him and held on tightly. “That is so reassuring.”
He didn’t hug her back. He did tense, and, she heard him tell Kane, “Look what the hell you’ve done.”
Kane’s laughter spilled from him again just as…
Ronan caught her arms. “I am not the good guy.”
She disagreed. “I’m living and breathing, and you’re protecting me. That makes you good in my book.”
“Sonofafucker, it damn well does not. It makes me— gun! ” A bellow.
Then Ronan lifted her up and tossed her through the air. She landed on the couch with a bounce, and he barreled down on top of her.
Gunfire erupted.