Wyn Security Page 11

  Her home looked like a war zone. It always follows me, doesn’t it? As if the nightmares weren’t enough. Now she could see carnage with her eyes open. Whoever was responsible for this was going to pay a big, big price.

  Luckily the fire department had been quick and the blaze had been contained. Contained being a relative word since at least half of her home was gone.

  She walked into her bedroom next, nearly holding her breath as she trudged through with a pair of ginormous boots a firefighter had been kind enough to lend her. Smoke still smoldered from her carpeted floors that she’d been looking forward to changing.

  It was a good thing she wasn’t one of those women who spent all her money on clothes or she’d be sorely disappointed by the few surviving items. Not that sinking her savings into her house was exactly paying off right now. Thankfully her closet had been the farthest it could’ve been from her front door, so most of it was just wet. She found a semi-dry overnight bag and started filling it with whatever black pants, long-sleeved shirts, and other necessities she was going to need. If she didn’t need to whisk Eliam away right now, she’d pack up the unburned items and put them in storage.

  Maybe Noor and Roe would be up for helping a girl out. She texted them. They were just getting back from California and hadn’t been brought in on Eliam’s case yet. Something told her she was going to need the extra hands.

  Her phone buzzed quickly—they were already on their way and had boxes in tow. Felix had alerted them. Damn, she nearly teared up. Her team was her family, Felix being her big brother. She’d do anything for them.

  Okay, one less thing to worry about. She checked the bathroom to see if any of her toiletries were unscathed. Her shower was burnt, but the charred remains stopped right before her toilet. Good, this shit’s expensive. She threw all of her creams into her bag and noted she would need hair products, a toothbrush, and toothpaste when they got to wherever they were going.

  Where are we going?

  Predictably, Alex would want to bring them to an SPD safe house. The problem with that plan was Holland. She didn’t know how many pots he had his hands in, and the less people who knew where they were going the better. She’d prefer that number be contained to her team, but they did need Alex’s help. None of them had legal footing to do anything. She took a deep breath, and the singed smell made her cough. Maybe special, lethal measures were in order. She felt like she was walking on a tightrope between calmly dealing with the cards she’d been dealt this past twenty-four hours, and going postal and annihilating everyone who had to do with all decisions leading up to the point of her standing in her bedroom throwing clothes into a bag. Nope, nope, nope. That dark past was behind her. But defending herself was a whole other story. She just wasn’t seeking trouble anymore.

  “What are you wearing?” She laughed when Eliam came into view in her backyard.

  “A coroner’s outfit. What? Not sexy?” He opened the Windbreaker to show his plain black shirt underneath. The same black shirt she’d almost had off of him about an hour ago.

  “It’s a good look.” She shook her head and walked straight toward him, not looking at anything other than his sparkling brown eyes. “Did you check for your clothes?”

  “They’re in the van already. My case was fine, wet, although the corner of the room is gone.”

  “Par for the course.”

  “Do we need to stop anywhere? Do you have clothes?”

  She swung her full bag forward and nodded. “Nah, I’m good for now.”

  He glanced over to the stretcher and the black, unzipped bag. “I really don’t mind getting in there.”

  “Nah.” She waved her hand in the air like getting into a closed space was no big deal. Five minutes. It’s just five minutes. She’d take the quiet time to refigure herself and her plan.

  She hopped up on the gurney and slipped into the bag when she saw Alex returning. She zipped it up to her chest and lay down.

  Alex and Eliam both stood over her. Was this her past and future staring at her in some weird turn of events? Her hopes of a promising night, and the fantasies in the back of her head about Eliam, faded. It was wrong to get involved with clients, a strict rule she’d never broken before.

  “As soon as possible.” She locked on to Alex’s eyes and gave him her sternest look.

  “I know.” He zipped up the bag and her world went black.

  Breathe. Just breathe. Alex had left the top open a bit for air. She started to tip her head to the top when she remembered she was supposed to be dead. Corpses didn’t move. She could just about bet everything she had left that whoever dropped off the package was waiting for confirmation they’d succeeded. It didn’t matter if people thought she was dead—well, sort of—but it did matter that everyone thought Eliam was.

  • • •

  Eliam climbed in the back of the van with Winter lying in a bag. Alex went around to his car and the two real coroners sat up front. They were under strict orders to drive toward their office and stop when Alex flashed his lights toward them. As soon as the back doors closed, Eliam unzipped the bag. Winter’s head popped out and she climbed out before he even had the zipper all the way down.

  She sat next to him on the bench on the right side of the van. Her chest rose and fell fast.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  She nodded and closed her eyes. “Yeah.” Sweat beaded on her mocha skin.

  Ah hell, he really should’ve gotten into the blasted bag. Alex told him Winter volunteered and had no problem. Clearly that wasn’t the case. If he was going to reevaluate life choices that put him in the back of a coroner’s van, he probably should start a bit further back—like when he hadn’t fought his mom over handing the reins to Franklin or when he’d called Winter. If he hadn’t called her, she’d still be sitting in her home. He might be dead, but eh.

  All he wanted to do was run his family business—treat it like his father had run it and have it to hand down someday to his child. His child? He wasn’t even married—who the hell did he think he was going to have a kid with? Winter? No. He’d put her in danger more times in the past day than most people were in during a lifetime. She probably wanted as far away from him as possible.

  But then there was the kiss. The kiss that should’ve led to more. More what? Did he want it to just lead to a night? Winter was different. She was a little cagey, a lot curvy, super-smart, and possessed damn alluring eyes. He wanted to be by her side constantly. To pick her up if she couldn’t continue.

  He pulled out his phone. Someone was going to have to meet the contractor for a bid on rebuilding her house. He’d love to, but he was dead.

  “What are you doing?”

  Winter had regained her bearings and her “I’m not messing around” tone. God, he loved that tone. He was twisted, sure, but any man who couldn’t see how sexy this woman, who didn’t take any crap, was should be labeled crazy and sent off to another world altogether.

  “I’m texting Louis.”

  She grabbed the phone right out of his hand.

  “What the hell?”

  “You’re dead. Remember?” She arched an eyebrow, and he knew they were going to butt heads but he was going to lose.

  “Not to Louis.” He tried to grab it back and she held it out of his reach.

  “Why not?”

  “Because he’s fine. He can know.”

  She pocketed his phone in his jacket she was still wearing. “No.”

  “Do you not trust him?”

  “Of course I do, but you don’t know if his office or phone is tapped for a listening device or who else Louis would tell.”

  “You know very well Louis wouldn’t tell anyone.”

  “Ya, okay, but you’re still not calling him.”

  Dammit, how was he going to help her out now? “We should’ve gathered more of your stuff.”

  Her high cheekbones accentuated her somberness. “A couple of my gals are heading over to see what’s left. You haven’t met them
yet.”

  “Oh.” He tried not to sound disappointed he couldn’t be the one to help her, to save her. She was a self-sufficient, ass-kicking woman. He tried to remind himself—which was one of the reasons he liked her. But it kind of sucked when there really wasn’t room for him.

  When all of this craziness was over, he was going to take Winter to one of those fancy stores with dishes, couches, and other household items and let her go hog wild. All on his tab. If she’d give him back his phone, he’d send a contractor over to her house right now to hurry along the rebuilding process.

  “How long do I have to be dead?” he asked. Attempts on his life were escalating by the minute. Whatever was going to happen wasn’t going to wait long.

  “I don’t know.”

  He appreciated her honesty, but that didn’t lessen the blow. His company was slipping through his fingers.

  “Unfreaking believable. This guy doesn’t have to kill me to ruin my life.”

  “There’s nothing I can do about that, but I can try to stop it. That’s why I got Alex involved.”

  “What’s up between you two anyway?” Dammit. Not how he wanted to show his jealousy.

  He tamed the scowl he was sure framed his face as she studied him. When she wanted, there was no way to read her expressions. Her gaze dropped to his lips and his breath quickened. The potential of Winter in his arms and desperate for him shot excitement straight to his crotch.

  As if he knew they were talking about him, Alex must’ve flashed his lights because the driver pulled over and the detective opened the back doors.

  “Let’s go.” Alex motioned for them to exit.

  “Take us to a hotel north of here. Eliam, you ride shotgun,” she instructed.

  “Winter, we have safe houses we can put you in.” Alex fired up his standard-issue sedan. “We’re going to find this guy. You just need to keep yourself out of the way.”

  “We’ll be safe. Felix could’ve picked us up and driven us to safety.”

  Eliam glanced in the side mirror to see a black SUV following at a reasonable distance.

  “I want to know where you’ll be. And stay by your cell because if you don’t answer, I’m going to have SWAT over there quickly.”

  Of course he would. Eliam side-eyed Alex in his suit and clean-shaven face. Eliam grew hair by the time he blinked after a shave. She never did answer my question about their relationship.

  “You focus your energy on finding this bastard. That’s what I need.” He didn’t need to look in the backseat to know she wasn’t smiling when she said that. She was, however, still wearing his jacket. A smile threatened and he quashed it.

  “You know who’s behind this?” Eliam asked.

  “We might.”

  She was being vague on purpose and annoyance tempered any happiness he’d felt. Winter was a damn roller-coaster ride. She made him happy and in the same breath could make him want to move to a secluded island.

  “Who? Franklin?” He shifted in his seat to ask Winter directly. “Did Franklin do this?”

  “No.”

  “They are just leads right now,” Alex butted in. “When we know something concrete, we’ll let you know.”

  “Yes, please, keep me in the dark. That’s a solid plan.” He rested his elbow on the window ledge and rubbed a circle on his temple with his thumb. He’d experienced more mini headaches in the day he’d known Winter than his entire life. That was not a future he wanted—someone with her own way of doing things. Great, now he was looking for a partner like he liked his employees. Just perfect. Could this night get any more screwed up? Probably. And most likely.

  Luckily for him, it seems they weren’t going to tell him anything unless he needed to duck or leave. He hated being in the fucking dark. He hated not being able to control the situation he was in and his own damn life. He hated that he wasn’t sitting in his office right now doing his work like he’d wanted to do so badly for years. His dream and his freedom were being taken from him. All in a day.

  Chapter Ten

  Winter knew it wasn’t awesome to be vague with Eliam, and she really wished bigmouthed Alex would’ve refrained from saying anything about the lead. Filling Eliam in on the investigation meant telling him about Holland—something she wanted to put off for as long as humanly possible.

  She directed Alex to the run-of-the-mill Hampton Inn in Greenwood she had in mind and thanked him for the ride. She paid cash for their new base in the higher part of north Seattle; checking in at a swanky place downtown wasn’t a good idea in case Holland was monitoring them.

  She’d never been on the run before. There was a first and last time for everything.

  The hotel room was silent. No bustling firefighters, no Alex, no body bag. Blissful silence. She swung her overnight bag onto the hotel bed. The sheets looked fluffy and soft—climbing inside of them and sleeping for a day was an option on the table for a second. She rubbed behind her left ear and took a breath without feeling the immense pressure of the last twenty-four hours.

  “I’m sorry about your home,” Eliam said behind her.

  She’d forgotten he was there. Was that a good or bad sign? Probably just a sign that he didn’t stress her out.

  His carpeted footsteps came closer and then he wrapped his arms around her waist.

  She didn’t know whether to embrace the kindness and sink into him or push him away. As it were, she wouldn’t be able to push him far because they were sharing a room—and a bed—because of course the hotel she’d had Alex drop them off at had only king-sized mattresses left.

  Her throat burned; she wanted to cry. Most of her home was a crime scene and unlivable for like . . .forever. Holy. Shit. I’m homeless. Where was she going to sleep tomorrow night?

  “This is all out of control,” she whispered and let her head fall back on his hard chest.

  Was she really complaining to her client? Her very handsome, strong, and kissable client. No. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She was not going to break down in front of or complain to Eliam about her house or any of it. He was what was important—his safety and finding all of the people after him.

  “We’re going to figure it out. There’s a plan, right? Or at least the start of one.” He hugged her tighter, his upper arm muscles pressing into her, cradling her.

  “I’m pretty sure I’m supposed to be telling you all this.” She tried to smile, but she’d started down this emotional path and once she did that, it was hard to stop. That’s why she preferred never to start—to stay disconnected from the situation and not internalize. Being pragmatic was more than a personality trait—it was a damn good way of life. It was sure fucking hard not to internalize having your house be bombed, though.

  “You can lean on me.” His voice cut through the high-pitched, constant tone in her ears.

  Could she? For how long? Until they went back to their normal lives, with no one trying to kill him. Then he would be president of his company and she would continue to run hers and they’d probably never have time for each other. Their relationship would turn into hers and Alex’s story all over again. Hot and heavy in the beginning, and then work would slowly choke their connection to death. She loved her job. She wasn’t going to give that up. Eliam clearly loved his company and was probably a workaholic.

  To hell with all of this. She didn’t need to think about the future right now—she didn’t even know where she’d be sleeping next week. What she really wanted, more than anything, was to feel something other than the fear and despair that threatened to take over. She wanted to let go and feel alive and then she’d get back in control of her emotions and focus on work. Focus on keeping Eliam, her team, and herself alive. She just needed a quiet moment to not be Winter Wyn the security specialist, but to be Winter, the female.

  She turned her face into Eliam’s, feeling the warm roughness of his cheek and beard on her forehead. Make me forget reality. This time when she closed her eyes she didn’t see flames—she didn’t see anyt
hing. Eliam’s chest filled and deflated and she focused on the consistent motion—up, down, up, down. Her fingertips glazed over his dark, hairy forearm and his hands flattened against her belly.

  She carefully turned until she was chest to chest with him, still in his grip. His hands moved to her lower back. His dark face seemed even more shadowed, but not by the stress of the day. No. She was on his mind, the embrace they’d shared before she opened her front door—she’d know what desire looked like on him any day of the week now.

  “Are you worried about me?” Smiling was easier when she was looking into his gorgeous brown eyes.

  “What? No. You’re a badass. I’m worried about me.” He shrugged as much as he could without moving his hands that lay dangerously close to her ass.

  “The Eliam Prince worries about his life?”

  “Now you know my dirty secret.”

  She chuckled and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I highly doubt it. Your dirty little secret is much juicier, I’m sure.”

  His face moved closer and her pulse kicked up. There was nothing that would interrupt them this time.

  “I’ll never tell,” he whispered into her ear, then nipped at her lobe.

  His secret would be fun to get out of him, but later. If she had to wait for his lips to be on hers any longer she might just scream. She watched his gaze drop down to her lips, and a thrill lit up her entire body. Kiss me.

  His eyes connected with hers again before his lips gently met hers. Closing her eyes, she used her arms wrapped around his neck to pull him closer.

  They kissed away their day, holding on to each other tightly. He probably needed this as much as she did. Was it callous to think of sex as helping her to feel normal again? She didn’t mean just her past day, but her past couple of years. She wasn’t even sure if she had a normal precedent set in the civilian world.