Chapter 21
SABLE
"What did they do?" I asked on our way there. "I mean, if we're going to do something to them, shouldn't I know why?"
"Of course you should," Forrest agreed. "The man we're going to talk to was a security guard at a house for women with disabilities."
I winced. "Please tell me he didn't…"
"He did, or at least he tried to." His eyes flashed with anger. "He was caught before he could go too far, and fired. Because there was insufficient evidence, he was allowed to walk."
"That's horrible," I said. My stomach twisted. What was it with some people? They were sick. "What else?"
There was definitely more to this story. Did I want to know? No, but I needed to.
"I found evidence of his previous employer," Leif said. "Similar deal. He's really good at not being caught."
"Until now," I said.
"Until now," Forrest agreed.
"That must have been frustrating," I said. "Knowing someone has done horrible things but not being able to put them behind bars where they belong."
"That's why we started doing this," Forrest said. "Because it's not okay. Too many people get away with too many things."
"How long have you been…doing this?" I asked carefully, as we walked past a group of people waiting for the light to change so they could cross the road.
"A couple of years," Leif said. "We met through mutual acquaintances. Figured since we had the same mission in life, we might as well join together and help each other."
"Same with Woody," Forrest said. "Met through mutual acquaintances. He can be a loose cannon, as you know, but he's as committed to this as we are."
"When he's not trying to kill me," I said dryly. "I hope he's not too committed to following through on that."
Once or twice was one thing, but after that it might stop being funny. Not that almost being burnt alive was amusing. My mother would have said it was character building. She might be right, but how much more character did I really need?
"I can't believe he didn't bring marshmallows at least," I added.
"Now I'm really offended on your behalf." Leif grinned. "All of that and no marshmallows. He really wasn't thinking straight."
"That's an understatement," I said. Except I got the impression he was thinking straight, in a fucked up kind of way.
"He's not going to go after Harlow and Archer, is he?" When it sunk in who really killed his father, he might switch his attention to them.
"Unlikely," Forrest said. "Harlow? Chances are she'd kill him first. Archer too. Not to mention, he understands if they killed Wolfgang, they had good reason to do it. Harlow St. James is many things, but reckless isn't one of them."
"So he didn't believe I had a good reason to do it myself?" I asked.
"Of course you did," Forrest said. "But he didn't come to that conclusion yet. Woody is many things. Reckless is absolutely one of them."
"I noticed," I said dryly. "Maybe someone could prescribe him some chill pills. Maybe a knife shoe to the nuts."
They both laughed at that.
"At some point, Woody's going to have to understand we're all on the same side," Forrest said. "When he does, he'll settle down. You two might even like each other." He leaned over and spoke softly in my ear. "He did make you wet."
My face heated, both at the memory of the kiss with Woody and the fuck in the shower. I was a little sore from Forrest's cock, but in the best way possible. These two might ruin me for anyone else ever, and I was here for it.
"I don't know," I said, "but I think there might be a bit of a difference between being turned on by someone and them wanting to kill you."
Forrest replied, "There's a fine line between love and hate. I've seen the books in your apartment. You enjoy some enemies-to-lovers romances."
"Is that what this is? Usually they just dislike each other a bit," I said. Then eventually they'd fuck and realize they loved each other. I wasn't sure I'd have that kind of revelation with Woody. Fucking him though? The idea shouldn't have been as compelling as it was.
"Woody can be literal," Leif said.
"Yeah, I got that." I pushed hair off my face. "I like friends-to-lovers too."
"Me too," Leif said. "I'm reading an MM baseball romance you might enjoy. It's pretty hot. Not as hot as you two, though."
"That bar is extraordinarily high," Forrest said modestly.
"You read romance books?" I asked them both.
"I do," Leif said.
"I don't usually have much time to read for fun," Forrest admitted. "I’ve read enough to have an understanding of what women really want."
"The perfect book boyfriends," I said with a sigh. "On our way to kill someone." What more could a girl want?
"That sounds like us," Leif said, grinning over at me. "Looks like someone is actually waiting."
Woody was leaning against the front of a building in the deepening shadows, his arms crossed, customary scowl on his face.
"What's she doing here?" He jerked his head towards me.
"Same thing you're doing here," Leif said.
"Being exceptionally smart and attractive," he said, smirking at me.
"Exactly," I said lightly. "You don't have the monopoly on either of those things."
He rolled his eyes and smirked. "That smart mouth is gonna get you killed someday."
I smiled sweetly. "Funny, I was going to say the same about you."
"Oh yeah?" One side of his mouth lifted up. "Are you going to kill me, little butterfly?"
Butterfly? It was better than bitch, I supposed.
"Only if you push me too far," I told him.
He snorted. "Have you ever killed someone?"
"Not yet," I said. "But you might be a good place to start. You know what they say, your first time is always the most memorable."
He looked me up and down, clearly not thinking about killing.
"I'd like to see you try," he sneered.
"Be careful. She might accept that challenge," Forrest said. "In case you hadn't noticed, Sable is feisty."
"I've never been called feisty before," I said, liking the way the word sounded.
"Feisty and tasty," Leif said, licking his lips.
"I would have said bratty," Woody said. "You know, the kind who needs her ass smacked."
"Are you offering?" I asked without thinking.
Great, now that was exactly what was in my head. Him smacking my ass with his hand or with a paddle. Maybe a flogger. My panties were ruined again.
Asshole.
"Don't threaten me with a good time. Now don't we have someone to deal with?" I pressed my hands to my hips, hoping I looked like some kind of badass.
"We do," Woody said. "Maybe you should go and have your nails done or something."
I glared at him. "I only had them done the other day—" I stopped. I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of getting a rise out of me.
"I'm in this with the rest of you," I finished.
Woody glanced at Forrest, questioningly.
"She's coming too," Forrest said.
Woody sighed. "Fine, but if she gets in the way, I'll kill her myself."
"You will not kill her," Forrest said firmly. He turned to me and said, "If at any point you feel like backing out, you can. No one's going to judge you."
"I will," Woody said.
I flipped him off. "Are you always such a prick?"
He looked thoughtful. "Yes. Yes, I am."
"Don't listen to him. He's a big softie underneath that dickhead exterior," Leif whispered loudly. "He wears purple socks with bunnies on them."
"I fucking do not," Woody snarled. After a moment he added, "They're yellow."
"He's not denying the bunnies," Leif pointed out.
"Fuck off," Woody said. "Let's deal with this motherfucker and get out of here."
"That's the smartest thing I've heard you say," I told him, marching past him as I followed Forrest and Leif into the building.
He bared his teeth at me, but trailed along behind us, muttering something to himself that I ignored. I'd given him enough ammunition for one night. He didn't need any more of it.
Neither did I, if I was honest. Sparring with him was entertaining, but exhausting. Would that stop me? Hell no. As long as he was giving me shit, I'd give it back. Even if he wasn't I still might. He deserved it.
We passed an empty desk and headed to the elevators and up to the sixth floor. "How are we going to get in? We're not," I lowered my voice to a whisper, "breaking in, are we?"
"No, I have a plan," Forrest said. He told us all briefly.
As he spoke, my nerves rose. Could I do this? Would it be better to wait until the police had proof of what he'd done? If we did, we'd be waiting for someone else to get hurt, or to have their lives destroyed. That was something I couldn't live with.
"Are you sure this guy is guilty?" I asked, just in case. For a moment I considered walking away, but I held my ground.
"Robert Xavier Carmichael is guilty as fuck," Woody said.
"One of my contacts hacked into his computer.
You don't want to know what was on there.
" His mouth was set in a line, so flat his lips turned white.
If the guy was right in front of him, he might rip his head off with his bare hands.
Or tear off his balls and shove them down his throat. Or…something.
"Fuck is pretty guilty," I said. "In this context." He was right, I didn't want to know what was on there. My imagination was harsh enough. Fertile enough to fill in the blanks, and then some.
Whatever we did here tonight, I wouldn't regret it. If they said he deserved it, then he did. Even if it was Woody doing the speaking. We'd be making the world safer for other people.
I reminded myself he got it wrong with me, but Forrest and Leif were just as convinced. Just as in this as what he was. As ready to deal with this asshole as Woody was.
I said finally, "Let's do this."
We stepped out of the elevator at the sixth floor and headed for apartment number nine.