“I don’t know how you think you’re going to get away with this. Wagner’s a high-profile CEO and philanthropist. Whatever misguided plans you have will fail.”
She’s got a cloth bag over her head, but I’d bet real money she’s glaring at me.
I check my bank account. “Actually, it worked just fine.”
In the twenty minutes we’ve been in the car, Jake has already raided all of Wagner’s unofficial offshore accounts and split it amongst the members of the team. Other payments are forthcoming, but this one has more zeroes than I have regrets.
Then again, I only have the one regret.
Everett pulls up to within a couple of feet of the back door. She tries to wriggle out of our control, but we finally get her into a headlock and drag her through the shop into the PTN. We wrestle her onto a chair and then tie her to it. By the end of it, I’m breathing heavily, and Everett is as red-faced as I am.
Ronan has his hand over his mouth, trying—and failing—not to laugh. Jerk. Parker is openly laughing at us and, just being honest, it is pretty funny. The rest of the team joins us online, and Parker sets the call on one of the flat screens.
“Take this bag off my head, you assholes.”
I check with DB, pretty sure she’s going to need her eyes for this. He gives me a short nod and I remove the bag, smiling broadly at the very pissed, very beautiful woman. She bares her teeth at me, and I can’t help but laugh. Parker adjusts in her seat, tucking her hair behind her ears.
I whisper out the side of my mouth. “Already making plans, are we?”
She shrugs. “Maybe. If she doesn’t kill us all.”
The angry woman glares at Parker, who returns the pointed look with a dazzling grin. The woman draws her chin back, confused.
“What the hell is this place?”
DB stands, leaning heavily on his cane. “Welcome to the Portal to Nowhere. This is the operation center of the Guardians, a not quite legal mercenary-slash-vigilante operation determined to take out bad actors who have managed to elude justice. My name is DeShaun Blaylock, but my friends call me DB. And your name is Abigail Nichols, correct?”
She snarls and spits on the floor. Seriously, I like this gal.
“I’ll take that as a yes. As I’m sure you’ve already surmised, I’m only telling you my name because there’s a pretty good chance I’m going to have to kill you. Though, to be honest, I’d rather not. So, you’ll want to answer the next questions truthfully. If you refuse to answer, or if you lie, you’ll give me no choice.”
“But it’d give me great satisfaction, boss,” Anders blurts out, laughing at his own joke. “I happily volunteer my services.”
Omar clamps his hand on Anders’ mouth and whispers something into his ear. Anders’ eyes smile and he playfully glares at Omar.
DB raises his brows. “Are you quite done?”
He bites his lip, stroking his beard ruefully. “Sorry about that.”
Shaking her head, Abigail stares all of us down. “What kind of two-bit operation is this?”
“Can you or can you not verify that your name is Abigail Nichols?”
She snarls, looking even more beautiful. “Yes.”
“Owner of Nichols Security, correct?”
“Yes.”
“Do you have any other employees?”
“Not at the moment.”
“How did you get Jeremy Wagner to hire you?”
“I may have exaggerated the size of my company.”
“Why are you guarding him?”
