1. Ember
EMBER
(ALL ALONG THE) WATCHTOWER - DEVLIN & ED SHEERAN
PRESENT DAY
Icy, evergreen-scented air whips my red tresses around me. The wind seems to blow down the steep mountain faces that surround the valley, carrying a frigid December chill and the scent of dense fir trees.
In many ways, it’s comforting. We’re far from the city. I’ve learned to love London during my six months of freedom from the cartel, but the sting of fresh air beating my cheeks is its own form of catharsis.
There’s a clatter behind me when the log cabin’s door clicks open then closed. Footsteps join me in the early morning solitude. At the snick of a lighter, I glance to the side, watching Blaine spark up a suspicious looking cigarette.
“Where did you find a joint?”
Lips pursed around the tip, he inhales deeply with half-shut eyes. “Asked around town. That douchebag Ethan’s fiancé knew a guy who would sell to me.”
“I find that hard to believe in a place like Briar Valley.”
“Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth, sweetheart. You want some?”
I decline with a head shake. “I’m good. I need to keep a clear head.”
“Suit yourself.”
When Hyland’s done fighting sleep, someone will need to take over watching Axel. His condition is touch-and-go, despite being monitored by the town medic, Doc, since we landed yesterday. Even Warner’s had a blood pressure cuff on the man.
“Did you get some rest?” Blaine asks through a cloud of fragrant smoke.
“A little. You?”
“No, I hiked to the perimeter to get service and call the others.”
“What’s the latest?” My heart rate picks up.
“Raye and Spyder are in the wind, no sign of my father or his associates. The Estonian government is dismantling the remains of his operation as we speak.”
Puffy knuckles aching where I clench the cabin’s wraparound porch, flashes superimpose over my vision without warning. The flashbacks have been hitting in random bursts, never once granting me a moment’s peace.
Gracie’s pale, terrified face, matured but still innocent after all these years.
The horrifying sight of Axel’s limp body inside a cage, unresponsive and bloodstained.
Then Gael… Spittle foaming at the corners of his mouth, a crimson spray oozing from the ear-to-ear slice that ended his evil for good.
And my hands.
Stained. Culpable. Guilty.
I fled the cartel so I no longer had to bloody my fists for them. I’ve spent my freedom doing exactly the opposite for Sabre Security. Now I have to live with the memories of carving skin, tissue and cartilage without skipping a beat.
Even if Gael deserved it.
Stubbing out his joint, Blaine tentatively moves closer along the porch, his onyx stare fixed on my face. “What’s running through that mind of yours?”
“Nothing.”
“You can talk to me, Ember.”
His use of my name sends a jolt of electricity through me.
“Since when do you offer emotional support?”
“Since now.” He tilts his head. “What’s going on?”
“We almost lost Axel,” I croak, looking away from the distant snowy mountain pass. “I didn’t know if I was leaving him in that cage to die. And Gracie… she begged me, Blaine. Begged me not to leave her again.”
The bottomless, black pits that reside beneath his enviable lashes seem to soften somehow. Honestly, this side of the prolific mobster is still a novelty. I’m used to ruthless, business-like Blaine. Not secretive, gentle Blaine who comes out in private.
“You did what you had to. They’re both alive because of you.”
“If it weren’t for me, Axel never would’ve been in that warehouse.”
“So what?” His shoulder lifts in a shrug. “He knew the risks. By all accounts, it was his brother who tried to kill him. Are you responsible for The Hunter’s actions too?”
“Well, no.”
“Then it’s settled,” Blaine says firmly. “None of this is your fault.”
My aching head bows, too heavy and sore to hold upright. Even if I screw my eyes shut tight, I can still see their faces. All interspersed with the satisfying horror of Gael’s gaping neck wound. It’s fucking dizzying.
“Life isn’t that black and white. You can’t declare someone innocent then expect them to put their guilt aside. Not after what we just survived.”
“I can, and I have,” he deadpans.
“Blaine… Stop.”
“Why? Blaming yourself is a waste of time. Don’t expect me to stand here and watch you do it without raising an issue. This is foolish.”
“You don’t mince words, do you?”
“Infamously no. Have you only just realised that?”
Of all the people to console me, he’s the unlikeliest. If it were Warner or anyone else, perhaps I’d believe them. But not Blaine. Not the infamous Phantom. No matter his harsh but simplistic outlook on life.
Though he sees past the mask I slide on for the rest of the world to the twisted, ugliest parts of me—the parts forged in fire under Gael’s thumb—I’m not convinced he would recognise culpability even if it were staring right at him.
We’re as broken as each other. By circumstance or what it took to survive our own personal hells, it doesn’t matter. I know Blaine harbours the same violence that thrums in my veins and would never judge me for it. It’s also what makes him immune to the regret and guilt most normal people feel.
“If your father’s base of operations is being wiped out by the authorities, he’ll be desperate.” I raise my head, scraping together a brave mask. “Desperate people do dangerous things.”
“I’m aware. You can assume Sabre will be his number one target.”
“So where do we go from here?”
A scar-laden hand drops on top of mine, his fingers long and elegant, possessing a grace that’s unique to Blaine. I drag in a breath as his grip tightens, encouraging me to meet his forceful stare.
Fuck, he’s beautiful. In a rugged, terrifying way. From his jet-black locks left long and floppy over shaved sides to his jagged, uneven facial scar and the silver ring that pierces his beckoning bottom lip, everything about Blaine Madden is dangerously enthralling.
“We take my father down for good.” He traces over my busted knuckles. “Clean house, no loose ends. He’s going to come at us. You, me, Sabre. No one’s safe as long as he’s alive.”
“He knows you’re working with us now.”
“Precisely why I’m here with you. My intentions coming into this arrangement are null and void. This is our fight now, and the only way we win it is together.”
My palm flips, tangling our fingers together. His skin is warm on mine. For all his gnarly battle scars and defences, parts of Blaine are soft. Lovable. And holding him close feels so goddamn right.
“Together?” I dare to whisper.
The corner of his mouth hooks upward, pulling his lip piercing taut. “Is that what you want?”
“More than anything.”
“Then I’m right where I’m supposed to be. By your side until the very end, sweetheart.”
“What about the others?”
“Their involvement changes nothing about how I feel.”
His forehead teases mine, the scent of woodsy smoke clinging to the plush lips that dare to ghost over mine. I crush my mouth onto his before I physically combust with impatience, slamming our chests together in the process.
The kiss is a rough, aggressive collision of teeth and tongues. I greedily smack our lips together, pushing my tongue into his mouth to lay claim to the territory once and for all.
Blaine willingly takes the assault, returning my passion with equal fervour. He sucks on the tip of my tongue, teeth nipping in a playful tease that unspools molten heat in my centre. The cold bite of his piercing only adds to the assault.
My hands rise to fist in his T-shirt, borrowed from a stack of clothing lent to us when we arrived. I can feel the hard planes of his pectorals underneath the fabric, chest rapidly pumping in an attempt to suck oxygen into his lungs.
When short nails scrape over my clavicles and breastbone, I know he’s going for my throat. His hand closes around the slope in a light cinch, just enough to offer him a modicum of control.
The possessive hold on my neck allows Blaine to tilt my head and deepen the kiss, gaining full authority over my now-tingling lips. His tongue massages mine in domineering strokes, leaving me dizzy and breathless.
I can feel the porch’s railing digging into my spine when he walks me backwards to push his body up against mine. He’s slender but muscular, carved from a lifetime of battle-hardened ferocity. Every inch of his body fits to mine like it was made to be.
A groan vibrates in the back of my throat when his foot nudges between mine to guide my legs open, allowing his pelvis to grind into my core. The friction makes me clench internally, nerves singing for much-needed attention.
“I’d take you right here, right now, even if your teammates held a gun to my head for doing so,” he growls into my lips.
“Then why don’t you?” I murmur throatily.
“Because once we cross that line, all bets are off, sweetheart. And I’m still learning how to share what’s mine with those Sabre bastards.”
“Technically, they’re your teammates too, you know.”
“Technically,” Blaine grunts.
“You still don’t believe that, do you?”
Sighing, he rests his head against mine. “I’m not sure what to believe anymore.”
“You’ve earned your place on this team. Even the guys would admit that. Because of you, that poor child was freed from the warehouse and returned to his parents. That was all you.”
At the mention of the trafficking victim we rescued from Nolan Madden’s entrapment, his whole body stiffens with palpable tension. I deflate when Blaine takes a measured step backwards.
“My father finished what he started under my nose in that warehouse.” His tone is laced with enough venom to melt epithelial tissue. “Until every inch of his operation is abolished, I can’t rest easy.”
“We were successful in Estonia.”
“It’s still not enough.”
He watches me close the distance between us but doesn’t try to retreat again.
“Blaine… You are not your father.” I reach up to cup his jaw, my thumb mapping the bottom quadrant of his scar. “And you don’t owe the world anything, including retribution or whatever this is.”
“What if…?” Tongue darting out to flick his piercing, Blaine trails off. I’ve never once seen him unable to form words. Not my cocky, confident smooth talker with the silver tongue of hell’s finest devil.
“What if?” I whisper, circling his puckered skin.
“Never mind.”
“Say it. You know you can trust me.”
“What if I need to do it for her?” His formal accent dips to a low octave. “That kid… it could’ve been my mother in a cage. Perhaps that’s all she ever knew. Only no one came to free her from him.”
The fissures that crack open his loaded stare reveal delicate flecks of navy, swirling like the distant reaches of deep space, peppered with deadly debris that could threaten life as we know it. Still, I find myself leaning in.
“Then we do it together. Just like you said.”
“I won’t watch him get arrested, Ember. Not like I was. This fight only ends one way for me.”
“After what happened in Estonia, I doubt a single member of the team would deny you that right.”
His lids falling to half-mast, I’m seconds from the liberation of his mouth recapturing mine when the door clatters again. I’d recognise the hollow thunk of Warner’s prosthetic leg even blindfolded.
“Blaine.” He sighs loudly.
“Yes, team leader?”
“While I’m making peace with your existence in our lives, don’t push your luck. Get your hands off my girl… Please.”
“Please?” I splutter.
“I’m trying.” Warner’s response comes through gritted teeth.
With his back to Warner, Blaine smirks at me in amusement. “Would you mind having one less boyfriend if I gut this one? He’s rather tiresome.”
“No! You can’t gut our team leader.”
“Is that all he is now?”
“Still no.” I push him away with one hand. “He’s also mine. Hands off Warner, or you risk losing them.”
“Thanks, love,” Warner vocalises in a tired voice. “Believe me, I wouldn’t be interrupting if it weren’t urgent. Family meeting at the main cabin. Willow’s orders.”
Frissons of tension and anxiety cut across my chest at the mention of Briar Valley’s resident matriarch. Little did I know, the victim credited to one of Sabre’s biggest trafficking cases isn’t such a stranger after all. That sure was a shock to the system when we landed in the middle of nowhere.
Over Blaine’s shoulder, two stern baby blues bore into me. Warner looks exhausted. His salt-and-pepper hair is mussed, untidy. Hastily changed clothing hangs in disarray. He even leans lopsidedly, taking the weight off where I’m sure his prosthetic is killing him.
“What’s the meeting about?”
“We need to bring them up to speed while we’re lying low here. Plus, you both have some explaining to do. Starting with how on earth you know each other and none of us were informed.”
“It’s a long story,” I hedge.
“I can imagine.” Warner jerks his head towards the wooden cabin. “Doc will stay with Axel so we can all attend. He’s out cold for the time being.”
“Fine. Can I check on him first?”
“Go right ahead. I need a word with Mr Madden here about boundaries if he’s intending to stay and see this case through.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” Blaine crosses his arms over his chest.
“I assumed as much.”
My focus bounces between the two men, eyeing each other with a wary kind of understanding. “No fighting?”
Blaine shrugs, his expression settling into a familiar blankness. “Only if he throws the first punch.”
“No fighting,” Warner promises. “Give us a minute.”
“Okay… One minute. That’s all.”
As I squeeze past him to re-enter our temporary home, Warner catches my wrist. He halts me long enough to plant a heavy, possessive kiss where the ghost of Blaine’s lips still resides.
I sink into his touch, dominating and firm, letting his rich patchouli and pine scent melt into my pores. Everything about Warner screams comfort. Reassurance. Safety and belonging. He’s the safe harbour in a storm, the constant thread that’s guided me through months of upheaval.
He’s more than my brother’s best friend.
This man… is my home.
All too soon, he releases me, gently pushing my shoulder to encourage me inside. Leaving the two men to hash it out doesn’t feel like the best decision. But the sooner our team pulls together, the sooner we can end this.
Blaine’s right about that much.
It’ll take all of us to bring Nolan Madden down.