I sip my whiskey a little slower than Jacinta, enjoying the smoky liquid as it goes down smooth as silk. “That’s really good,” I say to no one in particular, and both Jaxon and Declan grunt their agreement.
Hope coughs after taking a sip. “Strong.”
“Pussy,” I tease her, and she flips me off.
“What’s that book?” She points at the one on the table. I guess she didn’t hear Emma when she handed it to Harlow. Though I’m not really surprised since we were in the library to beat all libraries. I swear the girls just about melted into puddles of goo. Jaxon really knew what he was doing by putting a secret library in his hotel in Hawaii. What is it they say? Bitches love a library.
Before I can answer, a loud boom from outside has the furniture in the room shaking.
“What the fuck was that?” Declan shouts as we all put our glasses down and hurry into the foyer.
In the lead, Jaxon throws open the front door and hurries down the steps toward his now flaming motorcycle. “My bike!” he shouts, but I grab him before he can lunge for it.
“No, man, there’s nothing that can be done. You’ll just get hurt.” I wrap my arms around him, squeezing tightly, until he sags with defeat.
“Dad!” Jacinta cries, causing us to both turn. Leaning against the side of the house is Dad, his body shielding Emma from what must have been an explosion if the pieces strewn across the front of the house have anything to say.
“We’re okay.” He waves and pulls himself off Emma, wrapping his arm around her as they slowly join us. “We’re not hurt,” he says rather loudly as he gets to us, pulling on his ear. A trickle of blood is running down his cheek. My heart races with adrenaline and fear at seeing my dad injured. Never before have I had to face the reality that he isn't some super human. He’s flesh and blood like the rest of us, and he could have been badly hurt or even killed. That’s a real slap in the face, and I swallow, trying to clear the lump in my throat that just developed.
“Bullshit, you’re not. I’m calling an ambulance.” Jacinta’s phone is already waiting in her hand, though her eyes are still trained on Dad and Emma, following his movements as he lowers Emma onto one of the steps then sits beside her.
“Okay, maybe that’s not a bad idea. Should probably add in the fire department to put out the bike,” he agrees, wiping his hand across his cheek, and his eyebrows jump in surprise when he sees the blood.
“It looks like someone stuck a rag in the gas tank and lit it on fire,” I tell them as I study the destruction around us.
“There’s a hose around the side that should reach. I don't think we should wait for the fire department. Some of the overgrown bits are still too dry from summer.” Emma points to where they’d come from, and Declan quickly runs in that direction. He reappears shortly after, hose running, and starts putting out the flaming patches of grass around the bike.
“We saw someone running away, heading for the front. I think they may have come in the same way that Harlow did the first time.” As Emma’s shaky voice tapers off, she leans against Dad, practically melting into his side. “I shouted at them, but before we could follow, the bike exploded.”
Her phone rings, and she lifts it to have a look at the screen. “The agents are here,” she tells us, entering a code into some kind of app. “The front gate can be remotely unlocked, so we can wait here and stick together.”
It’s not long until an unmarked vehicle is driving down the overgrown driveway and parking beyond the moat gates. Out of the driver's side of the SUV hops a man who looks like Dwayne Johnson’s older and bigger brother, bald head and all. He’s built like a tank, and his otherwise plain shirt has DEA emblazoned across the chest. Alongside him is another man. This guy isn’t as big, but he’s certainly not slacking in the fitness department. He has neatly styled blond hair, and his shirt has ATF written across the front.
“How is it that we’ve got two different agencies coming to visit us?” Jaxon asks as the guys cross the bridge, raising his voice so they’ll hear the question.
An annoyed grimace wrinkles the faux Rock’s face. “Well, when the Federal Department of Counterterrorism calls and tells you that one of the richest families in the US has found a secret stash of guns and drugs that they’d like to keep quiet, the brass listens. They thought it would be more discreet if the two of us came out and assessed the situation before blowing anything up. No pun intended, given your current situation. Wayne Jackson. DEA.” He introduces himself but doesn't hold his hand out to shake; he points to the other guy instead. “And my ATF counterpart Jason Adams.” Both of them pull credentials out of their pockets, holding them up for us to inspect. Jason’s smile is friendly and open, whereas Faux Rock is clearly pissed to be here, with his crossed arms and aggressive stance.
Declan has gotten rid of the hose, making it back to us in time to hear the introductions. He takes over, holding out his hand to greet both men. Jason accepts it, but Wayne just stares at it in disdain until Declan drops it. Wayne’s little power play is not going to work on my brother. He knows them all.
“This is my father, Brad Summers, and my siblings, Jacinta, Jaxon, and Holden and our family friend Hope. And this is Emma Cullen, who was the caretaker of this property up until we discovered that Jaxon and Jacinta were the heirs.” As the oldest, Declan has always been the lead in anything we do, and I’m happy to keep it that way. Tom is usually the one he yields to the easiest, and when we’re in a stressful situation, those protective instincts of his kick into overdrive. It’s rare that he’ll relinquish control to anyone but Tom when the stakes are high. Taking charge, even in something as simple as giving our names, makes him feel a little more in control of the situation.
Jason runs his hand across his face. “Yeah, when we spoke to Jake Jennings, he filled us in on the whole story. It sounds like the plot of a movie if you don't mind me saying.”
“You have no idea.” Jacinta waves her hand in agitation. “Try living it.”
“Does this have anything to do with it?” Wayne raises an eyebrow at the now dripping wreck of Jaxon’s motorcycle.
“Actually, we’re not sure if it has to do with this, or if it has to do with my girlfriend's stalker,” I tell them, taking over.
“Yeah, Jake filled us in on that too. He just hung up as we pulled up to the gates. It looks like any evidence that may have been left behind has been destroyed by fire or water.” Jason does a circle around the wrecked vehicle, pulling a glove out of his pocket and putting it on before he lifts a rag out of the fuel tank. “I would guess this was how they did it.”
Wayne rolls his eyes at Jason. “Right now, with the record of stalking as an open case with local PD, we'll hit pause on this. Unless we can find something that connects it to our agencies' concerns, our hands are pretty tied. If we find a connection, you'll have our agencies' full support behind tracking down the perpetrator, but even a name like yours isn't enough to get us actively involved in an irrelevant case. Currently, we have a stack of drugs and guns that need our focus. If you need us to, we'll stick around and talk to any PD that are called to check out the bike scene, but I doubt we can offer you much.” His voice is deadpan and he really isn't going out of his way to make friends with any of us.
“Okay thanks, we appreciate it. I’ll call the detective in charge of her case and let him know about it, but I’ll do that once you've finished. Whoever did it has already gotten far enough away that there’s nothing we can do about it right now. Shall I show you to where the tunnel entrance is?” Dad waves his hand around toward the back of the house.
“Sure, let’s get this show on the road. Then we can call our guys in if we think it’s necessary.” Wayne starts to head in the direction Dad pointed as Declan and I exchange a glance.
“I’m sorry. You have some doubt that this will be necessary?” I ask, unable to hide the annoyance in my tone. Hope grabs hold of my sleeve as I take a step toward the guy.
