One Touch More (24 page)

“My sister likes you, you know.”

Damien glanced at Seth and swallowed down a disbelieving grunt.
Yeah, sure she does
. Which was why she'd all but thrown him out of her apartment this afternoon.

“Your sister throws a mean right hook.” Damien figured Seth didn't need to know everything about their afternoon together.

“She
so
does. But—and this is going to sound totally fucked up—she wouldn't have decked you if she didn't care. The last time I got in trouble, she smacked me upside the head so hard I swear I saw stars.” Seth chuckled. “You ever see a bear with her cubs? They get out of line and that big paw comes out to swat them around and bring them into line. That's Tabs. She's a mama bear. Always has been.”

Damien could totally picture her laying into her brother that way. Maybe Seth was right. If he gave Tabitha some space, let her vent her frustrations with him and put him in line, she'd come around. Even if she didn't, Damien would be at her front door every day, more than willing to act as her punching bag until she forgave him. He wasn't going
anywhere
.

A pair of headlights turned onto Federal Way, toward the fenced-in yard of Lightfoot's shipping company where Damien and Seth waited. The kid resumed his nervous bouncing, shaking the Shelby until Damien felt like they were cruising down a bumpy road and no longer parked. “Relax, Seth. There are marshals, DEA, Boise PD, and SWAT staged at the perimeters of the property and we're all going to walk out of here in one piece. Got it?”

Seth turned and gave him a sheepish smile. “Got it. But, man, I am so going straight after tonight. This shit ain't worth the stress.”

Wasn't that the fucking truth?

“Shit.” A jacked-up Ford pickup pulled up beside them and Damien's hands wrapped around the steering wheel in a white-knuckled grip.

“What?”

“Joey beat Lightfoot here.” Damn it. As far as Joey was concerned, Seth and Damien would have no business to be here together. He didn't want anything throwing up red flags at this point. If Joey decided to call them out on it and give Lightfoot any reason for suspicion, it would be a disaster. “Here.” He shoved a Glock into Seth's hand. “You found me at the hotel and forced me to come here. Got it?”

“Shit!” If Seth wasn't panicked before, he sure as hell was now. “What if something happens? How are you going to arrest anyone—or save any of our asses—unarmed?”

“Don't worry. I've got an extra holstered at my waistband. This is just for show. Make Joey think that you've got the situation under control. Damien locked his gaze with Seth's. “You can do this. For your sister.”

Seth visibly swallowed and nodded his head. “No worries. I've got this.”

“Okay, then. Put on a good show.”

Damien got out of the car with a scowl fixed into place. He put his hands behind his neck and interlaced his fingers as though Seth had already given him the order to do so. Seth trained the gun on him and Damien had to admit he was sweating a little with a nervous kid pointing a loaded weapon at his head. It might have been a good idea to remove the damned clip.
Jesus
. Just another day at the office . . .

He came around to the front of the Shelby, the headlights of Joey's truck shining too bright for Damien to see anything but shadows. Joey got out and the passenger door swung open. Damien's gut clenched at this new variable that had been thrown into the mix. Could Joey have come with Lightfoot? Then his stomach took a nosedive and landed with a splat somewhere near the soles of his feet when he realized the shadowed form was much too curvy and feminine to belong to Gerald Lightfoot.

“Damn, Seth!” Joey followed up with a slow whistle. “You're a certifiable badass. Brought in the big game tonight. Nice fucking job, dude.”

Damien's teeth gnashed. He was going to kill that little son of a bitch.
Kill
him, if he touched one hair on Tabitha's head.

“Lightfoot said he wanted everyone involved rounded up. I do what I'm told.”

Seth's tone was cool and level. Perfect. In the glare of Joey's headlights, Damien couldn't see Tabitha's face. Was she okay? The loose perimeter of officers watching her apartment had been an obvious fail. Damn it, he should have had her taken into protective custody. She would have been pissed but at least she'd be safe. Damien pushed the myriad worries to the back of his mind and focused on the situation at hand. Whether or not Tabitha's protective detail had fallen through, he had backup here. And he was going to get all of them out of this alive.

“Seth, are you out of your
mind
?” Damien would have laughed at Tabitha's enraged tone if the situation had been less dire. “What are you doing?”

“What I have to.”

If Damien didn't know any better, he would have been nervous at Seth's Oscar-worthy performance. He wished there was some way to convey to Tabitha that everything was okay, but unfortunately, she'd have to remain in the dark for the duration.

“You oughta take a page from your brother's book, Tabs,” Joey said. Damien's gaze slid to where Joey's hand bit into Tabitha's arm and it was all he could do not to tackle the fucker. “He knows what's what. Seth, why don't you talk some sense into this bitch? The quicker I get my shit back, the better.”

“She's still my sister, asshole.” Seth's voice burned with barely veiled rage. “So watch your fucking mouth.”

Joey snorted. “Whatever. It's not going to matter to Lightfoot that she's your sister, so you better get her to cough up the goods before he gets here.”

What a cluster fuck. Though if Damien had known a simple theft would get Lightfoot to show his face, he would have played this assignment differently from the start. With Lightfoot as hard to lay eyes on as Santa Claus or the Easter Bunny, the marshals were keeping their distance. Damien was prepared to take a beating in order to get the arrest, but he wasn't interested in getting shot. With Tabitha here, it added a more dangerous layer to an already volatile situation. Despite her family connection to Lightfoot, there was no guarantee that he wouldn't kill her just to prove a point.

“You know, it's my own fucking fault for trusting a guy who just blows into town, free as a bird, when the rest of his crew is sitting in a federal prison.” Joey pointed his revolver at Damien and the tension in Damien's shoulders relaxed a couple fractions of an inch. Anything was better than having that barrel trained on Tabitha. “I mean, what the fuck? You get pinched with a bunch of fucking arms dealers. The feds lock everyone up and you skate? Did you narc on your buddies, Damien? Cut a deal to save your own ass? Because you're a punk-ass bitch if you did.” He moved his arm just to the left of Damien's head and pulled the trigger.

The report of the shot cracked as the headlight of Damien's Shelby exploded, sending sparks and shards of glass flying. Tabitha lurched, as though ready to tackle both him and Seth to the ground in order to protect them, but Joey reached out and wound his fist in her hair, pulling her back with a cruel yank.

Joey Cavello had abused both of Damien's girls tonight—Tabitha and his Shelby—and the bastard wasn't going to walk away from this with his nuts intact. “I told your buddy Tony that if he so much as shot a mean mug Tabitha's way, that I would end him. He didn't listen and I beat the ever-living
fuck
out of him. He'd be a dead man right now if it wasn't for the woman standing beside you. So, unless you want to die right here, right now, you'd better take your goddamned hands off of her.”

Joey brought up the gun and fired again, shattering the windshield of Damien's car. A riot of chatter went off in his earpiece, Ryan Gates shouting orders to his team and the DEA agents on scene, to be ready to move in at Damien's word. They'd agreed on
bandit
as the code word to signal the marshals and SWAT to move in, and the highly trained tactical team wouldn't move a muscle until given the green light. Joey was blowing off steam—and pissing Damien right the fuck off in the process—but he wouldn't kill Damien. No, he'd wait until Lightfoot showed up before he did anything too rash.

“You gonna end me, Damien?” Another shot rang out and the side mirror exploded. Tabitha grunted in pain as Joey twisted his fist in her hair, wrenching her head back. He put his face against hers and bit Tabitha's earlobe hard enough to cause her to cry out in pain. “Come on. If you're such a tough motherfucker, do something.”

Damien's entire body went rigid. Anger burned in his gut like molten metal, slogging through his veins and searing every nerve ending in the process. He took two rapid steps, closing the distance between them, and Tabitha's eyes went wide. “Damien, don't.” The urgency in her tone froze him in his tracks, but it did nothing to slow the frantic beat of his heart or heavy breaths puffing in his chest.

“You took something that belonged to me, asshole.” Joey brought the barrel of his revolver to Tabitha's temple and she cringed. “I think it's only fair I take something of yours in return.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

Joey egged Damien on in an attempt to goad him into doing something that would justify killing him before Gerald showed up. If everything went south before the star of the show made an appearance, all of this would be for nothing, and Tabitha refused to let that happen.

The self-coaching was helping to slow her racing heart, but it wasn't doing shit for the fear that threatened to choke the air from her lungs. She was pretty sure her ear was bleeding and she wanted to return the favor so badly, she shook with unrestrained rage.

“Seth, don't!”

Her brother's shadowed form cut a swath through the beam of headlights as he rushed at Joey. The situation went from bad to worse in about half a second as Seth's shoulder made contact with Joey's chest. Joey fired off a wild shot and Tabitha went down with them in a tangle of limbs and a cloud of dust. Someone's elbow caught her in the chin, jarring her head back with enough force that it rattled her teeth. Pain radiated through her face, so intense she saw stars. Or were they headlights? She choked as a second cloud of dust swirled over her, the crunch of gravel barely audible over the sound of the scuffle.

“Jesus fucking
Christ
!”

The sound of that voice rocketed Tabitha into the past and chilled the blood in her veins. Jagged like the rocks and dirt beneath her, dry as the dust coating her lungs, and as deathly cold as a grave. She kicked and rolled away from the mass of struggling bodies, desperate to free herself from the melee.

“Seth, stop.” Her tone was low but frantic as she straightened and tugged at her brother's shoulder. “Seth.” Memories of Gerald beating a poor kid who'd stiffed him for fifty bucks flashed in her mind. If he'd broken someone's arm over a few bucks, what would he do to them for losing an entire half of his shipment? “Seth!” She kicked at Joey, desperate to get him away from Seth. “Please. Stop now!” Strong arms pulled her upright and Damien hauled her backward, away from the chaos. Seth was next, hauled up by his collar like a helpless kitten being relocated by its mother.

Joey scrambled to retrieve the gun he'd dropped during the fight and brought it up as he came to his feet, practically foaming at the mouth. “You're fucking dead, Seth.”

“No one here dies unless I say so.” Gerald pulled back the hammer on a monster revolver, the swirling dust lending a dreamlike, gossamer backdrop to the scene. He poked the barrel into the back of Joey's head and for the first time tonight, the jackass had the good sense to look scared.

Joey lowered his own gun and let it hang limply at his side. “Hey, man.” His voice cracked like a prepubescent teen as he faced Gerald. “I was just trying to get this situation under control before you showed up.”

“Yeah, looks like it.” Gerald did nothing to hide his disdain, and Tabitha's mouth went dry. Damien's back was a wall of muscle, shielding her and Seth. There was no way in hell any of this was going to end well.

“Come here, little man.” Gerald's endearment to Seth did little to settle Tabitha's nerves. Instead, a sense of foreboding crept over her like an early morning frost. She grabbed Seth's hand, reluctant to let him go. He gave her fingers a reassuring squeeze before walking past the protection Damien offered and over to the man who'd ruined all of their lives.

Gerald Lightfoot was a walking cliché. He looked older than his fifty years, the product of hard living and even harder fighting. Salt-and-pepper hair was drawn back into a long, bedraggled ponytail, deep wrinkles fanned from the corner of his eyes and mouth, and when he smiled at Seth, he revealed a row of crooked teeth with more than one gap. Tabitha's dad had knocked out one of those teeth one night when they'd both been too drunk to stand. It had pissed Gerald off to the point that he'd given her dad a concussion in retaliation.

He was a throwback to the heyday of motorcycle gangs. Hell, Tabitha knew Gerald still had connections with the Demons of Speed, an infamous local biker gang that was well-known for being violent, racist, criminal scumbags. He could easily be their leader, the king asshole. And the funny thing was . . . Damien's rough-around-the-edges appearance fit right in with Gerald's. Joey—all six skinny, grungy feet of him—looked like a clueless newb in comparison.

“How've you been, little man?” Gerald embraced Seth and gave him a few robust pats on the back. Tabitha's stomach churned with nervous energy and she swallowed down the bile that rose in her throat. Gerald's gesture of fatherly affection was nothing more than show. He'd kill Seth in a heartbeat and not even think twice about it.

Gerald's eyes locked with Tabitha's over her brother's shoulder and he gave her a slow smile that made her skin crawl. “It's been a while, sis. You don't got any love for me?”

She
hated
when he called her that. Even as a kid, the endearment had carried with it an undertone that made her sick. It'd been almost seven years since she'd seen the son of a bitch and he was treating it like some kind of dysfunctional family reunion. Her body sought out Damien's, her steps mechanical as she pressed herself against his broad back. Every inch of her vibrated with fear. Why hadn't anyone called in the cavalry? That was the plan, right? Get Gerald to show his face and then the marshals would move in and arrest him. Where in the hell was everyone?

“Get on over here, Tabby Cat, and give me a hug.”

God, the pet names. Sis . . . now Tabby Cat. And there were many more. They seemed to be never ending. With each usage, she was reminded of a life she'd fought so hard to put behind her. A life she didn't want anything to do with ever again. Gerald shifted so that Seth stood beside him, though Gerald kept the hand holding his gun slung casually over her brother's shoulder. Tabitha wasn't an idiot. She knew what he was trying to do: separate them from Damien.

“Come on now, Tabitha. Don't be shy.” Gerald's tone was no longer playful or even moderately pleasant. The order was firm and promised retribution if she didn't obey. In front of her, Damien stiffened. What was he waiting for? Where were the troops? Did he need some sort of visual confirmation? Surely Damien knew what Gerald Lightfoot looked like. Her gaze slid to Seth and his furrowed brow urged her forward.

Joey's lips puckered into a superior sneer as she left the protection that Damien offered and approached the man who'd been her parents' friend, business partner, dealer, enabler, and undoing. Gerald kept one hand on Seth as he wrapped Tabitha in his embrace, the smell of stale cigarette smoke causing her to gag. He disgusted her. Gerald kissed Tabitha on the temple and she recoiled from his touch. A hoarse, almost wet chuckle rumbled in his chest.
Ew
. The man was the poster child for why years of smoking, drinking, and drug use was a
bad
idea.

“I gotta say, you two kids are more trouble than you're worth.” Gerald's fingers dug into Tabitha's shoulder and she bit her lip to keep from crying out. Dark shadows hid Damien's face, but Tabitha knew by the way his hands were balled into fists that he was barely hanging on to his temper. Seeing the situation from this new angle, Tabitha knew why Damien hadn't called in the cavalry. Gerald now had in his possession two human shields. Insurance in case shit went south.
Oh God
.

“I don't like handlin' business myself,” Gerald remarked. “Which is why I trusted Seth to set me up with someone I could depend on.” His fingers worked on Tabitha's shoulder, kneading the flesh with too much force. “People who cross me usually die before any questions get to be asked. But since you kids are like family to me, I'm willing to hear you out. So, sis. What sort of trouble did you and your old man over there make for me?”

Joey obviously hadn't wasted any time ratting her out when he was caught empty-handed. What an asshole.

“Whatever Cavello told you is a lie.” Damien took a step forward and Gerald leveled the massive revolver at his head.

“I don't remember asking you to say a goddamned thing. But since you're so interested in jumping right in, let's get down to brass tacks. Who the fuck do you think you are, son? And where the fuck is my product?”

“Gerald—”

He squeezed the nerve between Tabitha's neck and shoulder and a jolt of pain shot down her right side. “Quiet, sis. Your old man wants to tell me something.”

“Yeah, I do.” Damien's voice was a controlled burn, every syllable forced through his teeth. “I'll be more than happy to talk to you about your missing product. But not until you let Seth and Tabitha go.”

Dry laughter answered Damien's request. “These are
my
kids. And they're right where they belong.”

 

 

“Evans, say the word and we'll move in.”

Gates's voice in his earpiece was a distraction Damien didn't need. Lightfoot hadn't slipped through their fingers time and again because he was an idiot. Though he doubted his cover had been blown, Damien knew that Lightfoot was wary of him. Anyone who'd been on the run for almost a decade would be. Gates was as antsy as a kid in line at an amusement park, ready to fire the cannons and storm the castle. But Damien wasn't willing to risk Tabitha's or Seth's safety. Lightfoot was using them as a human shield. The son of a bitch wouldn't think twice before shoving either one of them in the path of an oncoming bullet.

“It doesn't matter who I am,” Damien all but growled. “All that matters is who I'm with. You think Tabitha would steal from you?”

“That's a good question.”

Beside Gerald, Joey squared his shoulders. Yeah, the bastard was only tough when he was bullying a woman or standing next to someone who could back his play. He leaned toward Lightfoot's ear and said, “If he's so trustworthy, why did Seth show up with a gun on this asshole?”

Gerald turned to Seth. “That true, son?”

Tabitha's expression soured at the endearment. Her discomfort with that man did nothing but further rile Damien's temper. Prison was too good for Lightfoot. The bastard would be better off dead.

“It's true.” Seth's words carried the slightest quaver. “I didn't know who to trust so I thought I'd better cover all of my bases.”

“I'll tell you who to trust, son.
Me
.”

Gerald's arm left Seth's shoulder and swung around until the revolver crossed right in front of Tabitha's face. He pulled the trigger and the shot rang out like thunder. Joey Cavello crumpled to the ground like tissue paper, the point-blank shot to the chest killing him in an instant.

Tabitha clasped her hands over her ears. Damien lunged forward to grab her as her knees buckled, but Gerald refused to let her fall, hugging her body tight against his. “Oh my God!” The words burst from her in a breathless, frantic gasp. “Ohmygodohmygodohmygod.”

“Quiet, sis.” Gerald gave Tabitha a rough shake and her frantic sobs ceased, muffled as she brought her hands to her mouth. She looked at Damien with wide, disbelieving eyes, every inch of her trembling violently. “See what happens when you trifle with men's hearts? They don't think straight. Your ex couldn't manage his shit like a man's s'posed to. Couldn't keep your sassy ass in line. Now he's dead.” Gerald leveled the revolver on Damien and added, “One down, one to go.”

“No!”

Tabitha shot upright and grabbed Gerald by the shirt. “Don't. Don't kill him, Gerald. Damien didn't do anything. He didn't steal
anything
from you. I didn't steal anything from you. You're right, Joey didn't manage his people but Damien isn't the problem. I promise.”

Damien hated to see her beg that piece of shit for anything. Fear widened her eyes, thinned her lips, and hollowed her cheeks. Her chest heaved with quickened breath.

“Evans, we're moving in.”

“Wait.”

He let the word hang. It could have been spoken to Lightfoot, though Gates would know the command was meant for him. Seth took a slow sliding step away from Lightfoot and then another. It only put inches between them, but any ground gained was good. Damien couldn't save them both, and if he chose Tabitha's safety over her brother's, he knew she'd never forgive him.

“Let's get somethin' straight right now.” Lightfoot pulled back the hammer. “I don't wait for
anyone
.”

As though Tabitha and Seth were communicating via telepathy, they both acted at once. Seth knocked Lightfoot's arm high in the air as Tabitha used the distraction to spin away. The second shot exploded from the gun just as Damien reached to his back for the 9mm tucked into his waistband. He whipped it around at Lightfoot's face just as the older man aimed his revolver once again.

Lightfoot smirked. “This is what you call a good old-fashioned standoff.”

Damien shrugged. “Guess so.”

In her haste to get away, Tabitha tripped and landed beside Joey Cavello's body. Without missing a beat, Lightfoot stomped a booted foot down onto Tabitha's ankle with enough force to snap it in two. She stifled a scream that ended on a pained sob. “Seth, you do somethin' stupid like that again, and I'll make you watch while I skin your sister alive. You understand me, son?”

Seth looked to Damien as though for guidance, but he had to stay focused on Lightfoot.

“No one's doing shit. Back away from Tabitha and I won't put a bullet in your chest.”

Lightfoot laughed, the sound like the crackle of dry autumn leaves. “You think you can shoot me before I shoot you? I'll give it to you, you've got a pair on you. So, if you don't have my product, who the fuck does?”