Wyn Security Page 10

  She peeled his hands from her breast and ass. “Hold on. I need to check on . . . ” What? A suspicious-sounding car door? Yeah, he’d probably either think she was crazy or having second thoughts. She glanced back at him as she walked toward her front door. Please don’t have second thoughts. Being in his arms was like breathing, and she needed a deep fucking breath right now.

  • • •

  The click of Winter’s front door dead bolt made Eliam blink. What is she doing? Did she really need to check her front door right now? He didn’t remember hearing a doorbell or someone knocking. Hopefully this wasn’t her way of slowing them down or stopping altogether—he didn’t know if he could handle that. It was taking all the restraint he had as it was not to throw her down on the couch and rip off her clothes.

  He watched her slowly open the door and look from side to side. Winter was nothing if not a cautious gal. How he’d managed to con his way into her arms tonight was a tad baffling. A moment of weakness, perhaps? Hopefully that weakness came back or he could re-create it because there was no getting her out of his head now.

  Winter bent down and he appreciated her ass in the tight, black yoga pants. Yeah, he definitely wanted her undivided attention right after she closed the door. Or to hell with the door. He started toward her. It was late, way past the time for a delivery man to be out, and he didn’t remember seeing a box on her doorstep when they’d arrived. Damn, he was becoming nearly as vigilant about his surroundings as Winter.

  At that second, he heard something tear, she whirled around, and he saw the wide panic in her eyes.

  “Run!” She pointed behind him.

  Adrenaline instantly flooded his system, and she was coming at him at an increased speed.

  “Run!” she screamed again and grabbed his arm, pulling him with her straight to her sliding-glass door.

  With one firm push, he was outside and they were a couple steps farther into her backyard when an explosion made his ears ring and they both dove to the ground. Winter, just behind him, landed on half of his back.

  Shock waves rippled through his body and he closed his eyes tightly. Sounds mashed together and tunneled. What the hell was that?

  He opened his eyes in time to see a plume of smoke rush past them. He rolled over so she was half on top of him and cupped her face.

  Her lips moved; she was asking him something, but he couldn’t hear. The ringing was full force in both ears. He stretched his jaw a little and raised a hand to rub his ear. He focused on her lips. Was she asking him if he was okay?

  “Are you hurt?” he asked back, searching her eyes and then as much of her body as he could see for blood or signs of trauma. No blood. Thank God.

  “Are you okay?” she yelled, and he heard her this time.

  Panic outlined her question, probably the same fear he felt or something close to it since she was a badass and he was not. When he met her eyes again she looked like he felt, stunned, and then her alarm turned to flat-out rage. Seething anger flashed in her eyes—whoever did this had better run, because they were no longer safe. She pushed herself up and off of him, and then stretched out her hand to help him stand.

  “Are you okay? Anything hurt?” Her words were clipped as she checked him over with her eyes and hands. Any other time he’d enjoy a pat-down from Winter. This was one of those rare situations where it wasn’t fun. He took the opportunity to look her over again—the back of her shirt was dirty, but she was otherwise intact.

  “I’m good,” he finally answered. “I think. You?”

  “Fine.”

  After she seemed satisfied he wasn’t dying, she marched toward her used-to-be back door.

  “Winter. You can’t go in there.” He jogged to catch up, rubbing his ears a bit more. He felt like he’d been standing right by a speaker at a rock concert for hours. Unbelievable. What in the world were they going to do now? No one should’ve known he was there. Was someone after Winter, too?

  Her cell phone was already in her hand.

  “A bomb was just delivered in a neat package on my doorstep, which probably doesn’t even exist anymore.” She paused and he watched the high edges of her cheekbones and curve of her jawline tense. “It did.” He couldn’t hear the other side of her conversation—all he could see was her body tighten. There were no traces of their passion that had been so intense only ten minutes ago. “My next call.”

  She called 911, reported the fire, and then dialed again.

  “Alex. Hey. My house was just bombed.”

  Alex. Great. He rolled his eyes. He so wished she didn’t need this pet dick.

  She hit the End key and turned to face him. “You need to get out of here.”

  “I’m not leaving without you.” There was not one chance in hell he was going to leave her in a place that had just exploded. Who knew who was still out there waiting to see if they’d been successful or not.

  “Felix is going to check you into a hotel under a different name.”

  He shook his head once. “No.”

  “No?” She crossed her arms and arched one brow.

  “I’m not leaving you.” Nothing on God’s green earth could get him to just leave her there.

  “My job is to protect you. I can’t do that while dealing with this. If I could leave it behind and get you to safety, I would, but I’m going to have to make statements.”

  “I understand your job, and I’m staying here.”

  “The police, firefighters, Alex, they’ll all be here soon. It would be great if you were gone by then.”

  “Why? It’s the safest place with all of these cops and whatnot here.”

  Her chest rose with a heavy breath and he couldn’t, and didn’t want to, stop himself from gathering her in his arms. Her home just blew up and she was worried about him. When this was all over, he was going to make it up to her, buy her a new home, whisk her away on a peaceful vacation.

  Sirens rose in the distance. They would be surrounded any minute with hordes of people doing their respective jobs, but for the life of him he didn’t want this to end. He wanted to hold Winter in his arms longer. They’d almost died; mere seconds would’ve changed the outcome of their night.

  He kissed the space between her bouncy, black curls and her forehead, then let her go. He knew her well enough to know she wouldn’t want to show any signs of weakness when the authorities showed up, and hugging the man you were hired to protect certainly qualified. The man you were hired to protect. That description seemed outdated now—they were more than that. Weren’t they?

  “Winter!” a man’s voice shouted over the crackle of the fire that was engulfing her house.

  “Out back,” she called over the noise.

  Detective Alex Dreyer. Splendid. Eliam was not in the mood to watch the detective flirt with Winter. They had to have dated at some point, and if there was a way for him to bring it up and not seem like he was fishing, he’d ask to know for sure.

  “Oh my God.” Alex hurried to Winter and hugged her.

  Tight.

  He gnashed his teeth together. If he could go back and change one thing about his entire situation, it would be that this detective with his warm smile for Winter and his hands on her right now wasn’t involved. He hated this Alex douche.

  “Are you okay?” Alex finally let go.

  “Yep. We got out just in time.”

  “You have amazing instincts. How did you know?” Eliam studied her reaction. She was perfectly composed, face neutral and beautiful. Except for her grass-stained yoga pants and soot-covered green T-shirt you’d never know her entire life just went up in flames.

  She glanced over at him and then away. “I, ah, heard car doors slamming and it struck me as odd.”

  “You were focused on car doors opening and closing?” Eliam asked and tried not to sound indignant. Wow, so she hadn’t been as into their kissing. That hurt. Good to know. Really just damn fantastic to know.

  Detective Dreyer glanced between them and then back to his no
tepad, shaking his head. “There aren’t cameras in this immediate area, but we’ll see what we can pick up in the surrounding areas where there are businesses. You didn’t happen to see the car driving away, did you?”

  “I didn’t make it to the door in time. It took me a while to decide to check.” There was almost a tinge of red on her cheeks.

  That’s right, buddy, she was otherwise occupied. If he could say that out loud right now he would, but the timing seemed poor. Instead he stood broadside to the detective and folded his arms across his chest.

  “That’s when I found the box on my doorstep,” Winter continued, the red gone.

  “Can you remember anything about it?”

  “How did you know to run?” Eliam asked. She’d definitely known something was going to happen and it hadn’t taken her long to figure it out. If he’d found a package on his doorstep, he would’ve figured it was his new boxers.

  She turned her gaze to the streams of water that were now drenching the flames. His heart ached. He’d put her smack-dab in the middle of this mess. He should leave. As soon as she was okay, he was going to go find Franklin and strangle him with his bare hands.

  “The package was basic. No return address.” She looked back to Alex, weariness in her eyes, and rubbed her right eyebrow. “The label was for Eliam at his home address.”

  “That’s what signaled you it was bad?” Alex asked.

  “That and in fine print under the address there was a note.” She glanced his way, apology her in eyes. “I think the messenger wanted you to stick around to read it to be sure you didn’t escape the explosion. It said, ‘All that you have is mine now’.”

  Okay, yeah, pretty good indicator something wasn’t right with that delivery. Thank God Winter had been there. Not that it had been her house destroyed, or that she’d been directly in danger, but he probably would’ve picked it up, read the note, and he’d be dead right now.

  “I called the bomb squad and we’ll see if they can find a signature and run it through the database.”

  “Long shot.” She shook her head and studied her toes wiggling in the grass.

  “Yeah.”

  Her head shot up and she sucked in a quick breath. “Call the coroner.”

  “What?” Eliam and Alex asked in unison.

  “Whoever sent this needs to think Eliam is dead.”

  Alex nodded and dialed his phone.

  “I don’t want to be dead,” Eliam said quietly to Winter.

  “These people aren’t going to stop until they think you’re six feet under. They just bombed you. Think of what could be coming next. They’ve raised the ante.”

  “I have a company to run. I can’t be dead. Not even pretend. Unless I can tell my VPs.” She was out of her damn mind. He’d just taken control of Prince Industries; he wasn’t about to give that up.

  “No one besides us can know. That defeats the purpose.”

  “But we know who is behind all of this.”

  “At this point, we can’t assume anything.”

  His life as he knew it was over. For who knew how long. With all of the events of the last twenty-four hours threatening to freak him out, the only thing he was 100 percent thankful for was that Winter had not been hurt or killed. He’d never forgive himself if he was the reason she died.

  Her wayward curls danced in the slight breeze as a chill from the water streaming from the fire hoses wafted into her backyard. She crossed her arms, rubbing the goose bumps that had taken over her upper arm. He slipped out of his gray hoodie and wrapped it around her shoulders. When she looked into his eyes and thanked him, for a moment the tenseness she seemed to always carry with her disappeared and he saw something much different in her eyes—what he’d seen before when he’d kissed her. Before a bomb had been delivered to her doorstep. He wanted that lazy happiness staring back at him. The time to end this game was upon them; it had gone too far. If the price was to be involved with the Primacks forever, then he was going to do it. Winter’s life was worth any debt he had to pay.

  • • •

  Eliam’s jacket was warm and smelled like him—spicy, silky, and sweet. She put her arms in and zipped it up. She’d told Alex as much as possible in front of Eliam but she needed to tell the detective things she didn’t want her client knowing . . .just yet.

  “I’m going to go out front and talk to Alex and the fire chief.” She wanted to reach out and cup Eliam’s cheek, tell him everything was going to be okay, and kiss the hell out of him. “You should stay back here. The less people who see you, the better.”

  “Okay.”

  He reached out and placed his palm on her lower back, sliding it to her hip and pulling her closer. Her belly started to flutter. Even though it was over clothing, his touch sent waves pulsing straight out like a star.

  “Be careful.” He ducked his head to whisper in her ear.

  Great. The bomber seriously couldn’t have waited a couple more hours?

  Alex followed her cue and walked through the fence gate to her front yard. Holy shit—there were two fire trucks, Alex’s car, and a slew of other various law enforcement vehicles taking up all the driveway and road in her area. Her poor neighbors. Some of them were standing on their doorsteps, others sticking their heads out their windows, watching the home she loved so much burn.

  “What’s up?” Alex stopped when they reached the sidewalk and faced her.

  “There was more to the message on the package. I know who sent it.”

  “Why is this a secret from your client?”

  Where in the world did she start? Did she tell Alex everything? If she wanted his help, she probably should.

  “Because the package was sent by the guy I took a contract from to kill Eliam.”

  “You what?” His brows rose and his entire face seemed to question, scream, and disbelieve all at the same time.

  “Holland, the guy you need to go after, helps the rich and famous get rid of people in their way. Someone wanted Eliam dead, and I took the contract to buy us time. Holland must have found out I played him and is clearly not happy about it.” She waved her hand toward her former three-story white abode. Fuck. My home is in flames. Even as she watched the smoke, she didn’t believe it. “I don’t know everyone who wants Eliam gone, but if people think he’s dead, maybe we can suss them out.”

  “Hold on. So you never intended to kill Eliam, right? Do you normally take contracts?”

  “Alex. Geez. Get real. I think you know me better than that.”

  “I thought I did. But then again I thought you didn’t date clients, either, so who knows with you.”

  “Cute.” There was no way she was having a dating conversation with him. They were over—he could date whomever he wanted and she wouldn’t judge. Or at least she wouldn’t judge a lot. “Holland. We need to get him. He’s very careful, and I don’t even know his last name. He was a contractor for the army when I was in. Will that help?”

  “It should. I’ll check the years—if they give me access to that intel.”

  “The president of a worldwide shipping company’s life is at stake, not to mention if you catch Holland he’ll probably give you a shit ton of information to save himself.” She took a torn piece of brown paper from the flap of her yoga pants where she’d tucked it during her dive for the back door. “Here’s the proof you’ll probably need that he’s involved.” She thrust it into his hand.

  “All that you have is mine now. You know better, Wyn. H,” Alex read. “You’re shitting me. How in the world do you get yourself into these situations?”

  “This doesn’t happen every day.” She rolled her eyes.

  “What about the guy in the lobby of that swanky restaurant?”

  “It was animal blood and they were protestors. Nothing to do with me.”

  “All the death threats you dropped off for them were just part of the job, then?”

  “Exactly.”

  “And the guy who was nearly gunned down on the interstate? Corre
ction, you and the guy.”

  “He was also a client, and he made a very bad decision taking money from a crime family. You’re welcome for that arrest on your record, by the way. It seems my company actually makes you look pretty damn good.”

  “And each time I wonder if you’re going to make it out alive.”

  Was he serious? Yes, some situations got a little hairy, but come on, he was a detective who was in the direct line of potential harm every day, too.

  “I could say the same for you.”

  Alex was one of the good ones and she hoped they would stay friends for years to come, but they weren’t good together—she would rather go skinny-dipping in the middle of Central Park at noon.

  “I think the first part of the message on the package was for Eliam,” she continued. “Sometimes there are specifics that come with the contract. I’m guessing, even though Eliam was never going to see it, that message was for him.” The gushing water had stopped and firefighters slowly started to wade their way into her house. She turned away before the devastation could take root, although she could already feel the panic starting to well in her gut. She had to focus on something else, anything else. “Which means we’ve been right all along and it’s Franklin. He’s the only person who might stand to benefit if Eliam dies.”

  “Is there anything else?”

  There were probably a million other things she should tell him, but she was too scattered to know what they were. A dark room and silence. That’s what she wanted.

  A black van with CORONER in big white letters pulled up.

  “How do you want to do this?” Alex asked.

  “Do you think it would be too traumatizing to actually put him in the bag?”

  “Uh, yeah.”

  “Fine. Have them bring their stuff around. I’ll go in the bag. We’ll dress him up as one of the workers.”

  Alex laughed. He knew she wasn’t fond of tight, enclosed spaces.

  “We switch out as soon as we’re in the clear.” She pointed her index finger and jabbed it toward him. “We clear?”

  “Yep.”

  “Now. I have to go see what’s left of my clothes.”

  She gingerly stepped into her house from the backyard. She was basically standing in a big open area. No entryway anymore. No kitchen, half of a living room that was mostly in the basement now, and her Durango had fallen victim to the explosion, as well. Half of her upstairs office floor was missing, and from her vantage point, her cream walls were black or soaked in water; only her bedroom and guest room were almost untouched by the bomb, showing just fire damage. The bomb had been big—and there was a sentence she’d never imagined would pertain directly to her life. Again.