Sucking in, then letting out a frustrated breath, Fuse motioned for Gunner to continue.
“All right. Vulture, the Night Devils national prez, sent a new local man to replace Mario.”
“They never found his body?”
“Come on, man,” Gunner said. “We all know Vulture had Mario eliminated after the CF that went on with Junior Blackmore. Seems Vulture knew nothing about Mario’s side business. The new prez is someone named Grizzly. Grayson’s people are putting together a dossier on him, but according to the man Ethan arrested, he was Vulture’s enforcer. The big deal is the Night Devil in jail boasted to another inmate about a new job going after a senator’s daughter.”
“Son of a bitch! So now we have the Devils going after her?”
“Seems so. That’s why we showed up. Not that Wrath doesn’t trust you and Mitch to keep her safe, but Grizzly is a mystery. We don’t know anything about the way he operates. Burn was cool, somewhat levelheaded. Mario was a complete psycho.”
“Which is Grizzly?”
“Wish we knew. We wanted to introduce ourselves to Brittany, make sure she’s comfortable around us because the three of us are going to rotate. Banner, Iggy, and Boomer will be surveilling the roads coming this way.”
Standing, Fuse walked to the door, opening it. “Let’s get you all something to eat. We can talk strategy after.”
“Raider will be out in another hour, make certain your security still has his approval.”
“Whatever we need,” Fuse said, his voice not alerting his teammate to the turmoil tearing up his gut. Stopping a few feet from the family room, he allowed himself a moment to study Brittany. She wasn’t the woman he used to know, and thank goodness for that.
Swiping a hand down his face, he steeled his resolve. Could this situation get any worse?
Chapter Twelve
Long after Brittany went to bed, Fuse, Gunner, Mitch, and Raider, with Wrath on speaker, hammered out a plan and schedule, leaving Fargo and Bas to continue surveillance. They went with the belief Grizzly and his crew knew where each of the Brethren lived. Which meant no place was totally safe, including the clubhouse.
The Brethren hadn’t been trained to sit back and wait. They took control, put others on the defensive by swooping in, getting their shit taken care of, and jetting out. Or more often, exfiltrating by sea, air, or land. Helos were their friends, as were Mark V SOCs (Special Operations Craft). This operation was no different.
“Grayson is evaluating approval of going directly at the Devils,” Wrath said through his phone.
“The target?” Fuse asked.
“Grizzly.”
“It’s a huge risk, Prez,” Raider said. “We’ve stayed away from direct action against their president for a reason.”
“I said the same to Grayson,” Wrath said. “The Devils still believe us to be a rival MC gang. If we take Grizzly, we could be exposed in a way detrimental to our undercover existence.”
Fuse ran a hand through jet black hair. “It’s out of our hands.”
“For now.” Wrath’s voice hardened as it always did when faced with a lack of direction and the inability to move ahead with his team. “We protect our asset, and wait for Grayson’s response on action against the Devils.”
Silence spread through those in the room until Fuse broke it. “We’ve got this, Wrath. No one is getting to Brittany.”
The call ended without a go order. Nothing had changed except for the men assigned to protect Brittany. They spent several minutes setting up schedules and positions around the large property. Three men on, three men off, all on twelve-hour rotations. The one change would be Raider leaving, replaced by Banner.
Fuse, Mitch, and Gunner left to get a brief amount of sleep, Raider taking off to give Banner his new orders. He was pretty certain one of the youngest Brethren wouldn’t have an issue with trading his road patrol for a position closer to the action—and food.
Meaning to go straight to his room, Fuse waited until Mitch and Gunner retired to the remaining guest room with twin beds. Doing an about face, he walked to Brittany’s room. No lights appeared around or under the door.
Gripping the knob, he gave a slight turn, relieved when he discovered it wasn’t locked. Pushing it open, he crept inside to the edge of her bed. Tucked under the covers, Brittany appeared to be closer to eighteen than thirty.
A grin curved his lips at the soft, kitten purrs pushing through her lips. He wouldn’t wake her. All he needed was eyes on her, a confirmation of her safety.
Bending down, he swept an errant strand of hair from her forehead, not wanting to leave. Allowing himself a few more minutes, he returned toward the hall and his own bed.
Shucking out of his clothes, he stretched out on his back, hands laced behind his head. He wasn’t one of those people who had trouble sleeping. It didn’t hold true tonight.
After thirty minutes, the sleep he sought still wouldn’t come. Staring at the ceiling, he thought back to his days, and occasional nights, with Brittany. She’d been everything he’d dreamed of in a woman. Kind, gentle, smart, and malleable. Back then, he was certain that was what he wanted.
Years later, he realized his youthful vision bore no resemblance to what he wanted as a mature man. Fuse had been surprised to find Brittany had developed a backbone. She’d matured, and unlike in her youth, acquired the ability to fight for what she wanted.
Her heightened character traits didn’t mean he could ever trust her again. When together, they’d talked of love and a future so often he’d come to believe it.
He’d been blindsided when she’d informed him they were over. His plan to propose that very night, the diamond ring secured in his pocket, had disintegrated as easily as a sandcastle in a storm.
Today, the ring, still in its original box, sat in the bottom drawer of his dresser. Not a spot of honor, more a place he never ventured into. It had been a long time since he’d thought of it or the mistake he’d almost made.
Her presence in his house had brought everything back with the force of a tsunami. If what happened in her bedroom was any indication, their mutual attraction was as potent as ever.
A beautiful, smart, talented woman he’d never be able to trust. It didn’t mean he couldn’t take her to bed. Anything more? Not in this lifetime.
Brittany turned to her other side, drawing the covers under her chin. Unable to sleep after she’d woken to find Scott standing beside the bed. She had no idea how long he’d been there.
Fingers clutching the coverlet, she’d kept her eyes closed until he’d walked out. His departure had left her feeling a strange kind of emptiness. It was the same sensation which roiled through her the night she’d ended their relationship. A soul-deep hollowness, which had persisted for years.
Sitting up, Brittany wrapped her arms around both knees, leaning to rest against the headboard. Staring at the door, she wondered what had inspired him to watch her, and how long he had been there. After bringing her to an amazing orgasm, he’d made it clear nothing would come of their reunion besides his services as a bodyguard.
Once upon a time, their heated kisses, passionate embraces, and hours of lovemaking were the norm. Wonderful, free-spirited, and liberating. Fuse had been her first. He’d patiently pleasured her, teaching her everything about pleasing a man. Her guru, friend, confidant, and lover. A wonderful, brilliant man, with total dedication to his country…and to her.