There was silence as they drove through Midtown. They parked in the shadows, and moved through them to the back door, leading to the maintenance halls. Two figures stood in the shadows. Killian had seen enough drug deals to know what they were doing, but it worked in their favor, because those two wouldn’t report suspicious activity without shining a light on their own, being where they shouldn’t be. The elevator opened, Mic was the last in, putting the cone in front of it, before the door closed. A musical version of Islands in the Stream played as fifteen men in black rode to the top. Mic pulled the card from the elevator to disable it. They climbed up the shaft to the top floor, entering through the maintenance hatch. Damian signaled to Razor and Mic, who moved soundlessly to the security box. A few minutes later, Razor’s voice came over the radio. “Secure.”
Mic pulled the body from the monitoring station and took the chair. Razor kept guard. “Got two monitors down, looks like the one for the front hall and the elevator. They know we’re coming, probably waiting to ambush at the elevators,” Mic warned then said, “Got two in the kitchen. Another two in the living room.”
“You got one coming around the corner, Brock.” Brock, pressed up against the wall, grabbed the guard around the neck and ran his blade across his throat. He then moved into the kitchen, grabbed the bottle on the counter and knocked one over the head, and threw his knife, catching the other in the chest.
Killian took the guard closest to the door in the living room, putting him in a chokehold until he passed out. Anton followed behind him, taking his blade to the second guard.
Who had warned them?
They moved through the penthouse, picking off the guards, making their way to the front hall. Damian signaled. They took positions and then all hell broke loose.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Cedar
My stomach hadn’t stopped churning. I tried to sketch, tried to play with the kids, but I couldn’t focus. I paced the living room, working my lower lip, holding my phone, waiting for Killian to call.
“What’s your story?” Piper asked.
I turned to find the other women looking at me.
“Your sheriff reminds me of Damian,” Kimber said. “But I saw how that biker was looking at you.”
“Leave her alone, girls,” Rosalie, Thea’s mom, said, and she reminded me a bit of my mom. She arrived earlier with coffee and cake. She was sitting next to Thea, holding a sleeping Annabeth, while Thea braided Edie’s hair. It was a beautiful sight. My eyes burned because it was something I wished so much I could have shared with my own mom. I didn’t let myself linger on that or I’d start to cry, so I settled on the footstool and shared my story to distract myself.
“Brock and I were childhood friends.”
“Who turned into sweethearts,” Ryder guessed.
“Yeah. We had plans, so ready to start our lives together, but life had other plans. We went down different paths.”
“But those paths have converged again,” Rosalie said.
They had, and maybe we could find a way back, but he and Killian…
My stomach churned again; bile rushed up my throat. I jumped from the stool and ran to the bathroom. I emptied my stomach. Someone came up behind me, held my hair. It was Thea.
“Are you okay?”
“My stomach won’t settle.”
“Mom, can you get Cedar some ginger ale?”
“I’ve been there,” she said, “it’s the not knowing, but Damian and his crew are really good at what they do. Killian’s an agent and a sheriff, and Brock has had to learn how to survive. It’s going to be okay.”
I nodded, but I wouldn’t be okay until they were back. All of them.
“Maybe you should try to eat something. You barely touched your breakfast,” Thea said. I moved to the sink and rinsed out my mouth.
“I usually eat a lot, but I couldn’t get myself to. It smelled delicious, but my stomach protested.”
I splashed some water on my face, reached for the towel and saw the look she was giving me. “What?”
“I don’t mean to step out of turn, but when was the last time you had your period?”
I stared at her in the mirror, her words not registering immediately, and then my hands dropped on the edge of the sink, my focus shifting to my belly. “I don’t remember.”
My head jerked up, and despite all that was going on, warmth moved through me, chased by a joy that rushed through my body and ended with the smile that covered my face. “Oh my god.”
“I have a test,” she offered.
A part of me thought I should wait, but a part of me didn’t want to. Wanted to give that to Killian when he got back. Hoping like hell I could.
I turned to her. “I’d like that test.”
She squeezed my arm. “I’ll be right back.” She stopped at the door. “I know nothing. You take it, keep it and, hopefully, share it with your man.”
“Thank you, Thea.”
After she dropped the test off, I could hear her distracting the others by getting them to help her make dinner. I never knew three minutes could be so long. I waited, chewed on my lip, and waited some more then saw the results, dropped on the toilet and cried.
Chapter Thirty
Brock
I pulled the hood off, and Declan squinted at the light. We were in a place my crew used often. It had been a shitstorm at the penthouse, and while Damian and his crew handled damage control, I took Declan.
“What the fuck?” Declan said, his focus finally coming to me. He looked surprised, but then he thought it was Dominic’s men coming for him. “Brock?” He grinned. “Hey, Man.”
“You’ve been busy,” I said.
“What do you mean?”
There was a time I would have believed he was clueless, but that was his thing: disarming people by making them believe he was clueless, meanwhile he was sticking the knife in their back.
“I honestly didn’t think you had it in you.”
Some of the good boy easiness dried up. Yeah, play on his ego, because the fucker had a big one.
“Not surprising the cops never looked at you for Ashley’s death. Who’d have believed you would be capable of, well, anything. Shit, you couldn’t even find your cock half of the time, and we all know how much you love that.”
Temper stirred.
“Where is she?” I didn’t really give a shit. My mother had never been one, but I wanted him to talk, to spill it all.