Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
B rynn was mad and tired. A combination she hated.
On the good side, they’d stopped the drug shipment getting loose.
That was all the good she had.
She was sitting in the passenger seat of Hunt’s Charger. After the nightclub fiasco, she’d gone to the station with a very-freaked-out David Brownlee, the club co-owner.
Vander had gone back to the Norcross office with a very militant Matias.
She hadn’t heard from him, so she assumed that Matias was keeping his mouth shut.
Brownlee hadn’t known anything worthwhile. She rubbed her face. He’d cried as she and Hunt questioned him.
He’d borrowed a lot of money for the nightclub renovation. He brought in many new investors, and made many promises, including giving what he thought were a few ‘harmless’ favors.
Like allowing one drug dealer investor to let a little product into the club.
Asshole .
She pulled off her wig. She’d already ditched her high heels. She scratched her itchy scalp, then readjusted her real hair in a ponytail.
She was still in her dress. Nothing said “serious cop” more than showing your boobs off to everyone you worked with. She mentally rolled her eyes. Whatever.
Hunt pulled into the Norcross office parking level.
“Maybe Vander had better luck with the driver,” she said.
Hunt turned off the vehicle and rested his forearms on the steering wheel. “We should’ve taken Matias into custody.”
“We’ll get our turn.” Brownlee hadn’t known who Nomad was, let alone where he was. His investor was the middleman. A client of the Iron Wanderers.
“Brynn.” Hunt grabbed her hand, his green eyes serious. “Vander…he’s…” Hunt blew out a breath.
She pressed her hand over his. “I know exactly what Vander is.” She saw elements of Vander in Hunt. When you fought for your country, you gave up a little piece of your soul. Yes, for a good cause, to protect, but it was still gone.
These tough heroes came back and had to learn to live without it.
Camden would be home soon. He’d be the same. She knew Hunt was worried about his youngest brother.
“Vander isn’t an easy, or uncomplicated man,” Hunt said.
She smiled. “I know. And neither are you.”
“But I’m not like him. I… I always wanted a nice guy to give you a picket fence.”
Brynn wrinkled her nose. “You think I want a picket fence?”
Her cousin scowled. “I’m speaking metaphorically here.”
“Is it white? With a garden and a cute dog?”
Her cousin growled.
“Hunt.” She cupped his cheek. “Vander can give me exactly what I want, what I need.”
“You sure?”
“Yes. I’m falling in love with him.”
“Shit.”
She patted his scruff-covered cheek. “It’ll be fine. Now go home and get some sleep. I’ll see what Vander and the guys got from Matias. I’ll message you if they got anything good.”
“Tell Vander I’m coming tomorrow to arrest Matias, whether he likes it or not.” His tone was still grumpy.
“Will do.” She kissed his cheek. “Love you, Hunt.”
“Go. You’re such a pain in my ass.”
Smiling, she slid out of the SUV. Damn, she needed a shower, Vander, and sleep. And she wasn’t fussy about the order.
She saw Rhys waiting for her. The youngest Norcross brother looked tired, and his rockstar smile was missing.
“Hey,” she said.
“Glad you’re here.” He took her arm and she felt a shiver of alarm.
“What’s wrong?”
“Matias won’t talk. The guy’s clammed up tighter than a… You get the picture. Vander’s not happy.”
He led her through a doorway.
The holding cells were simple rooms with bare, concrete walls, a table, and a couple of chairs. There were three of them. Saxon stood with his arms crossed, looking through a glass window into one room.
Matias was handcuffed to a table. His face was bruised, but he was breathing. Vander was standing in front of him, one fist to the table. She looked at his face and shivered.
Oh, boy.
“Vander’s been at it the entire time.” Rhys shook his head. “He won’t give up, and I’m worried he’ll snap.”
Saxon flicked a glance her way, his face grim.
“He won’t.” But she could tell Vander was riding the edge.
This one was pushing his buttons. She handed Rhys her wig and shoes, then strode into the room.
Vander’s gaze landed on her like a heat-seeking missile. She suppressed a shiver. His eyes were dark, cold, turbulent.
She stroked a hand down his arm, then looked at Matias.
The man looked tired, his face pale, but he had a glint in his eye.
“Ah, the detective that Nomad wants to fuck up,” the man said.
Vander stiffened.
“Ah, the idiot who doesn’t know what’s good for him.” She circled the desk, leaned in and lowered her voice. “Your boss might not think he should be afraid of Vander, but look at him.”
She saw Matias lift his head, and she did the same.
Vander’s powerful body was still tense. He was ready to attack. His gaze looked black, and she met it head-on.
She saw the ice-cold ruthlessness. And she also saw the hidden emotions.
For her.
Her belly coiled.
“He’ll kill for me,” she whispered. “He’ll do anything for me.”
Matias swallowed. “You’re a cop.”
She laughed. “You think that’s going to save you?” She straightened, then strode to Vander.
She lowered her voice to a private murmur. “Let him stew a bit.” She recognized the ones she needed to leave alone, in silence, with their own inner voices, before they’d crack.
Vander’s gaze shifted back to Matias, hard and lethal.
She pressed a hand to his chest. “I need to get to bed before I fall down.”
One more sharp look at Matias, then Vander took her arm and led her out.
“Leave him in there,” Vander said to his brother and Saxon. “And get some rest.”
“He needs time to stew.” She yawned. “We stopped the drugs. Let’s see what Matias says after a night chained to a desk. Is that chair uncomfortable?”
Rhys grinned. “Very.”
“Good. Rhys, you play good cop. Leave him a bottle of water.”
Saxon cracked a smile. “So he’ll be stiff, sore, and have a full bladder in the morning.”
She winked, then staggered into Vander a little. It wasn’t entirely put on. She was dead tired, and her feet were aching.
“Come on.” He wrapped an arm around her. “Bed.”
She nodded meekly.
She saw Saxon’s eyes widen a little as he realized her ploy.
She just smiled.
Vander led them into his apartment. Inside, she relaxed a little. “I need a shower.”
He towed her into his bedroom.
Ah . It was a spacious room with lovely wood floors and a huge skylight overhead, above the big bed. There was lots of wood, and it was very Vander.
“Go, shower,” he said. “I’ll make us a snack.”
“I’m too tired to eat.”
“I know, but you need something. You didn’t eat dinner.”
He was looking after her. The man really was a mother hen. Looking after all his little chicks. She bit her lip. If she told him that, she’d get a killer scowl.
She wandered into the bathroom. It was as gorgeous as the rest of the space. She found her duffel bag had been moved in here.
Despite the wet dream of a long, hot shower, she bathed quickly and washed her hair. She pulled on fresh panties, but nabbed one of Vander’s T-shirts to sleep in.
When she walked out, he was sitting on the bed. A plate of food rested on the bedside table, but all her attention was for him. He was so tense.
She sat beside him. “What’s wrong?”
“Fucking Matias won’t talk. I like better results than this.”
“We’ll see what morning brings. You know patience is needed in interrogations.”
He shifted a broad shoulder. “Nomad wants to hurt you.”
Ah, the real problem. “Nomad’s not a nice guy. We already knew that.”
“If he gets to you… If he touches you or hurts you…”
His real fear was rearing its head.
He was afraid she’d get hurt.
“That’s not going to happen. You won’t let it. And I won’t let it.”
Right now, her man needed a little extra care. How often did he come home and brood alone? Was no one ever here to help him relax?
She shifted behind him. “Shut it off now.”
“It’s not that easy.”
She started massaging his shoulders. His muscles were all knots.
“I’ll help you.” She pressed a kiss to the side of his neck.
* * *
Vander dropped his head forward as Brynn dug her fingers into his tight neck.
He’d never liked people touching him much, even as a kid. But he realized that he’d stay there like this all night, letting her touch him, if she wanted to.
What he felt for her had come too far, too fast. Grown so big.
“Relax,” she whispered.
She pressed against his back, kneading his shoulders.
He usually relaxed with a glass of bourbon, alone.
Matias had spent hours taunting him, with everything Nomad would do to Brynn.
Usually, Vander didn’t let assholes get to him.
But this time…
She hit a tight spot and he let out a small groan. She smelled of clean skin, his soap, and Brynn. Everything about her wound around him, seeped inside him.
Her fingers moved to his hair, rubbing his scalp.
“We’ll recharge the batteries, then tomorrow we’ll throw everything we’ve got at Nomad,” she said quietly. “He’s going down, no matter how often he and his goons run off their mouths.”
Vander reached back and gripped her thigh. “Brynn… Don’t get hurt.”
She kissed his neck again. “That’s not the plan. I need you to trust me. I’ve got this.” She bit his ear. “I’m nasty when cornered.”
She climbed onto his lap and kissed him. It wasn’t fast and furious; this kiss was slow and drugging. A seduction.
She slowly unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it off.
“Lie down,” she ordered huskily. “And lose the rest of your clothes.”
As she moved onto the bed, he unfastened his pants and pushed them down with his boxers.
When he lay back on the bed, she turned off the lamp.
Silvery moonlight filtered through the windows and skylight. He watched her ditch her shirt.
His gaze stayed on the long, strong lines of her. She was no pushover. No one’s target or victim.
She put a knee on the bed, crawling toward him, her damp hair spilling around her shoulders.
Temptress. A siren come to lure him to things he’d always wanted deep down, but denied himself.
She straddled him, then leaned down to kiss him.