“I’m going in to get Brooks.”
I can hear the double-take he gives me.
“By yourself?Are you crazy?”
I grin at the road in front of me, then swerve around a car that’s going too slowly.“Not by myself.I already called Luke.”
Daniel looks at me hard enough to burn the side of my face, but I don’t care.Luke is bigger and younger than Daniel, and he’ll be better in a fight.He also won’t argue with me the way Daniel does.
Which is perfect, since we’re not going to have a lot of time for discussion once we get in there.
I jerk the wheel to the right, slide around the corner, and shoot up Dom’s driveway, knowing that it’s stupid to be going in hot like this.
But I don’t have time to be quiet.
I have to get in there and get my girl before someone kills her.
If she hasn’t already forced them to kill her.
Brooks
Ihave to admit, when I’ve thought about dying, I really never thought it would be because a Russian smuggler caught me snooping on his meeting with my father and decided to choke me to death.
And yet here we are, with me pressed against the wall and his hands wrapped around my throat, slowly squeezing until I can’t breathe and the world is starting to go fuzzy around the edges.The house was already dark, courtesy of my father never wanting to having enough lights on, but it’s getting darker as my air is cut off.
At least I think it is.
Maybe I’m imagining that, though.Surely you start to hallucinate when you’re dying, right?
That was how I felt the last time I nearly died.I remembered everything about my life, the good and the bad, and then I thought Lucien was there with me, pulling me back from the brink.
Wait.Lucien was actually there, wasn’t he?
I roll my eyes, trying to remember, and then I see Beau.He’s emerging from a door near the kitchen and running for me, his mouth open on a shout and his hands balled into fists.Is that really him?Did I really see Lucien the last time?
Am I really seeing Beau right now?
Suddenly the Beau figment jumps and lands on the Russian who’s choking me, and the man jerks.Then this hands are gone and I can fucking breathe again.Air rushes into my lungs and with it comes anger and relief and joy and a fierce, possessive need to protect my brother.
The Russian pulls Beau off his back and throws him against the stairs, then starts toward him like he’s going to finish the job, but I’m not going to let that happen.I leap onto the Russian’s back, screeching like a banshee, and jam my thumbs into his eyes, pushing as hard as I can.The man screams and shakes, trying to get my off his back, but I wrap my arms around him and cling to his bulk, my thumbs still pressed into his eyes.In front of us, Beau is getting unsteadily to his feet–Christ, he looks bad–and then charging forward.Moments later he jumps at the Russian’s knees and takes him down.I leap from off his back to avoid the fall and manage to land on my feet, hands out.
A hand takes mine, and when I look up I see that it’s Beau.He’s saying something, but I can’t hear him over the roaring of the Russian on the ground.I glance at the man, realize that he’s getting up, and yank my brother, my eyes on the door at the front of the house.I don’t know what Beau’s saying or where he left Corinne, but we have to get the fuck out of here before that Russian gets up and comes back at us.I don’t know where my father’s men are, either, but I suspect we’re in trouble with them, too.
We did, after all, just attack my father’s business partner, and though he and my father were fighting moments ago, I doubt Dom would have attacked him.
Before we can get to the door a bullet flies past my ear and hits the wall, and I duck and roll automatically, trying to make myself a more difficult target.More shots fly by, so I’m thinking my father’s men have found us.
Shit.
My gun and knife are both upstairs and I’m defenseless against them, and one look at Beau’s face tells me that he also doesn’t have any weapons.
We’re two stupid kids getting into things we’re not ready for, just like we’ve always been.And this time we’re facing something a lot scarier than my father’s fists.
His men come rushing down the foyer toward us, shooting as fast as they can, and I look behind them to see the Russian lumbering after them.My father is in the doorway of his office but doesn’t look like he’s going to stop anyone.His face is bloodied and beaten, and I doubt he’s capable of anything more than watching, at this point.
Shit.
If there was ever a time for him to pull rank and save his kids, this would be it.
