CHAPTER 1
LIAM
I checked my watch for the fourth time in the last thirty minutes. Not only was Sharpe late, he was conspicuously late. When he said he was coming to Braxton Harbor for the meeting and arranged for it to be the Titian—the same hotel Hellspawn had stayed at during her show—it had set off alarm bells. From unreachable and leaving me to his staff, to arranging an in person meeting? Yeah, nothing sketchy as fuck about that.
It was why I wanted Hellspawn secure at the apartment. I'd rather she'd been at the clubhouse, but the guys had other issues that made it a less than optimal choice. Not pacing took effort, I'd gone the suit and tie route, playing up my O'Connell connection. Still, when we hit the forty-five-minute mark, I gave up any pretense and headed out.
The bike wasn't parked in their lot. In fact, I'd stashed it half a block away for a reason. Everything about Sharpe set off internal warnings. I'd mentioned him, in passing, to Adam and all Reed had to say was stay as far away from him as possible. The guy was bad news.
Emersyn hadn't tried to reach out to him at all as far as I knew. In fact, she'd done quite the opposite that day she'd gotten away. He'd been right there and she'd gone in the opposite direction. Between the telephone tag and his slow response times, I'd already decided to just play him for information and that was it.
But why call for a meeting at all? Much less one he didn't plan to show—I plucked my phone from my pocket and hit the number for Hellspawn's phone. It hadn't even begun to ring when I caught the movement from the corner of my eye.
Too many years of back-alley fights and knives in the dark looking to take me out had honed my senses. Someone rushing at me, even in broad daylight, got my attention. My phone went flying as I caught the extended wrist and deflected the blade. Twisting the guy, I slammed him into his partner. My chest still ached from the three bullets that hit my Kevlar center mass, but I'd fought worse battles in far more damaged condition.
On any other day, maybe these guys would be an even match, but I wasn't in the mood for this. I needed my phone and I needed to hear Hellspawn was fine. One guy I dropped with a broken arm, and the second I split open every knuckle on my left hand with the upper cut to his jaw.
What the fuck did he have in that thing? Titanium? Still, a swift kick to the head of the guy cradling his broken arm knocked him out, too. I didn't have time for this shit, but I still removed their weapons, both had Glocks, fully-loaded and I field stripped the weapons down to parts, dropped them in different trash cans and tossed parts into the bushes on my way to grab my phone.
The fucking screen had shattered. But it worked. Still, the phone rang and rang and rang, then went to an automated voice mail.
"Pick up the fucking phone, Hellspawn." She could be doing anything. Running on the treadmill. Dancing around in her underwear. Fucking one of the assholes on my sofa again. But she still didn't answer the phone. At the bike, I stuck the key in and got it started as I tried to pull up the cameras.
They responded but I couldn't make out shit. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end and my blood ran cold. If I hauled ass, I was twenty minutes from my place.
That was twenty minutes too far. Just as I started the engine, my phone rang.
"Hellspawn," I said as I answered it. "Why the fuck—"
"It's not her," Freddie interrupted me. "I don't know where you are or what you did, but she's leaving."
"What?"
His voice held a frantic note. "She called me. There's no car here and just the stupid fucking rats we can't leave to run around in here..." His words came out jumbled. "The guys are gone and she's going home. That's what she said."
Home.
"Not to us, to the other place, the one I know she doesn't want to go to. What the hell did you do?"
"I'll take care of it."
"Liam..."
I ground my teeth together. "I'll take care of it. Stay where you are." Then I debated what I needed him to do. Freddie needed a task or he would derail and we couldn't afford that right now.
He couldn't.
Especially if they had him on rat duty, that must mean they were circling in on whoever was leaking the shipping schedules. "Call Rome."
"What?"
"Call Rome." It would be better coming from me, but Rome could keep it to himself. "Tell him what you told me and then tell him I’m on my way to get her."
"Okay—you're going to get her, right?"
Hell yes, I was going to get her.
"But you don't even know where..."
"I know where."
There were only two airports locally that could handle private planes and if Sharpe was here, he'd pulled me out to get her. I didn't know what the fuck was going on, but I was going to find out.
"Freddie, just do it," I snapped. "Call Rome, tell him exactly what you told me. I'll call you as soon as I know something."
I shoved the phone in my pocket then pulled the helmet on. Two airports.
The one closest to my place was also closer to this hotel.
It was a gamble, but I went with my gut.
I hit the highway doing 100 and I pushed the bike harder. The engine was a scream as we angled our way between traffic. I closed on every single dark car. No doubt he would have sent a goon to get her, or maybe he picked her up himself.
She didn't want to see him.
I couldn't reconcile the disparate desire with the phone call to Freddie. Why Freddie? To let us know, but warn the one person least likely to stop her? She needed to learn when Freddie cared, Freddie didn't stop.
None of us did. Still, it wasn't until I closed the gap on the sixth car that I saw her. Even through my visor and the tinted windows of the car, I could make out the wide eyes and the taut expression on her face.
No uncle.
But the driver was a mule of a man. He swung the car at me twice trying to dislodge me, then he cut off at an exit.
Swearing, I took the very next one, but he'd bought himself time. The race to the airport had my heart hammering. The one thing I didn't own was a private jet. So, I had no access to this part of the airport.
The car took her straight to a plane, but I was already off the bike and yelling for her. "Don't get on that fucking plane, Hellspawn!" The engines on it were already primed and running.
Security cut me off. One guy ate my helmet and I pulled a night stick from another. For a split second, I swore she heard me. She glanced back.
No way in hell did she want to get on that plane. A taser caught me in the back. The shock jolted my system, and had me staggering. I struck out blindly. Fists. Feet. Nightstick. Them. Everything became a weapon, but it was just me and the big dude who'd been driving her when I got clear and the plane was taxiing down the runway.
I focused on the behemoth.
I only needed him alive.
Not in one piece.
The clean-up crew would be less than happy with me when I called them in. There was a lot of scrubbing that would need to be done. I'd already taken care of security at the airport. Private airfields had private owners. They also tended to not care for FAA rules or sharing their issues with local authorities.