Renegade (Elite Ops 5) (45 page)

Maddix looked as though he'd been struck clear to the soul. He stared at the

brother he hadn't known he had like a man possessed, or one hungry for a connection.

"Did my parents know?" Maddix asked.

Floyd laughed. "No. According to the bitch that raised me, your parents believed I died at birth. There was a nice little funeral, the body of a child who had actually died at birth. It was really quite touching, I was told."

"By my grandfather?" Maddix's voice was hollow, so hollow that Mikayla found her heart breaking for him.

He was a man slowly being broken, by a son, a brother, whose loyalty should

have exceeded their cruelty.

"By good ole Grandpop." He laughed before turning to Nik. "Strange, I had you investigated. I didn't imagine Maddix could actually come up with your fee. And I

definitely expected someone more effective. You've been more concerned with that cheap piece of ass there than you are with the job," he stated as he motioned to Mikayla.

"We all have our weaknesses."

Mikayla knew the sound of Nik's voice, and she knew that now he was at his most

dangerous. "Ineffective" wasn't a word she would have applied to Nik. And she could see by his face that calling her a cheap piece of ass hadn't been a good idea.

"I told him he should have hired someone who knew what they were doing," Luke snorted. "Thirty-five thousand dollars? A good private investigator costs more than that."

Thirty-five thousand? Mikayla looked at Maddix. Why had he lied?

"The economy sucks," Maddix stated. "Business isn't what it used to be."

"And I'm tired of suffering for it," Luke bit out angrily. "I live in poverty because you don't know how to run a business. But you can give that cow you married whatever she wants."

It was a normal refrain. Luke was always telling whoever would listen how his

father refused to share his wealth or how his wealth lacked because of his intelligence.

Whichever, it seemed Maddix kept his son in the dark concerning any wealth he

might actually have.

"I'm rather curious what makes you think you can get away with this," Nik stated.

"Once Maddix is dead and Floyd shows up, people will suspect what happened with the Foreman murder."

"No one will suspect a thing." Floyd chuckled. "Maddix killed Eddie. Once it's done, I'll finish planting the needed evidence. Of course, if Maddix had cooperated rather than having that fucking meeting that night so suddenly, he would be in prison now and I'd be the owner of the company."

"Someone's delusional," Nik muttered.

Floyd's gaze sharpened with fury, lighting with rage as he glared back at Nik.

"You're nothing more than a hired gun without a gun. I was watching you. You left your weapon with your friend. I saw you give it to him. Then you rushed right over here. How stupid was that?"

Stupid, Mikayla thought, because Ian had handed that weapon back to Nik in the

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truck.

"You tried to frame me for Eddie's murder?" Maddix's voice was soft,

disillusioned. "Destroy me?"

"Of course." Floyd laughed. "And then I would have framed you for killing this little bitch if she hadn't been so damned lucky. The first time I shot at her at the job site a cloud moved and sent that damned sunlight right in my eye; the second time, she moved at the last second, the third time that damned car hit a pothole. Then Mr. Muscle here"--

he waved at Nik--"managed to reach her before Luke could run her down with your car.

She has more lives than a fucking cat."

"You could have told me you existed." Maddix sounded as though he was choked.

"I would have welcomed you."

Floyd sneered. "Fuck you. I was the castoff. Now the castoff is going to kill you."

The gun lifted. At that last second, Nik moved. Mikayla felt what was coming and

could do nothing to stop it.

Nik pushed her to the floor, going down with her as gunfire began to echo around

her. She heard curses, enraged and furious, as Nik moved.

Maddix went down, his eyes rounded with terror as he began trying to crawl

across the floor to her. A bullet fired into the wood floor in front of him, chipping wood and causing him to fling himself to the side.

The lights went out, throwing the room into complete darkness as chaos and

bullets swirled around her.

When silence finally reigned, Mikayla struggled to penetrate the shadows, to find

Nik. Everything inside her was demanding that she call out to him, that she find him.

Rising to her knees, she stared around desperately, feeling her lips tremble, fear crawling through her system.

"You fucking whore!"

There was no way to avoid the arm that suddenly went around her neck,

restricting her breaths as the sound of Luke's heavy breathing blasted in her ear.

Instantly blinding spots of light centered on them.

"I'll kill this bitch!" The words were screeched into her ear.

This was Luke. And she had never seen the pure evil that existed inside him.

"You're going to let her go or I'm going to kill you." Nik's voice came out of the darkness. "Don't make that happen, Luke."

"Fuck you, Steele!" His arm moved.

A shot rang out.

Mikayla felt Luke still, felt the sudden shock of his body that indicated something had happened before he crumpled behind her.

She was left standing in the middle of the room, her breathing harsh, heavy, for no more than a second. A lifetime. A brutal, freezing eternity before Nik's arms were suddenly around her. He pulled her against his chest, held her close to him, and she could swear she heard him breathe a prayer.

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Chapter 24

Luke was dead, as was his uncle Floyd Cantwell. The two men hadn't known who

they were dealing with when they faced Nik. An ineffective mercenary? She didn't think so. As she watched the black-masked men who filled the Nelson library hours later, she knew he was anything but a mercenary.

Maddix Nelson was slumped in a chair, his third glass of whisky in his hand, tears unashamedly dampening his cheeks. He'd lost everything in a very short amount of time.

The brother he hadn't known he had, the son he hadn't known the true evil of. He was a man fighting just to believe the events of that evening.

The chief of police and the detective assigned to the case stood close to Maddix

while Glenda stood at his side, silently weeping for him.

Say what one did about the woman, she genuinely seemed to care about Maddix.

His parents were on their way from Arizona. God only knew how they would

handle the truth of what had happened to the child they had believed had died.

Nik stood with Jordan Malone and Ian Richards on the other side of the room,

talking to four other men, all in black masks and black clothing. They were all tall, hard bodied, and hard-eyed as they surveyed the scene.

Clapping Nik on the back, each in turn, they walked through the patio doors as

Mikayla watched, disappearing into the night as Ian and Jordan moved to where Maddix and the police sat.

Nik moved to her.

"We're leaving," he told her as he held his hand out to her. "I've given the investigator your statement. It's over, baby."

How could it truly be over when so much had been lost?

Taking his hand, she let him pull her to her feet, his arm wrapping around her as

he led her to the door.

"I want to stop at the hospital and check on Kira." Mikayla wanted to cry until there were no tears left inside her.

"A friend has been at the hospital," he told her. "Ian checked on Kira; she's doing fine. She's resting and she'll have a few more scars to add to her collection, but she's going to be fine."

Mikayla nodded. So much for delaying the inevitable.

"We're going home, then?" she asked.

"We're going home," Nik agreed.

He handled her gently, lifting her into the truck and helping her buckle her seat

belt because her hands were shaking so hard. She didn't want to go home. She didn't want to watch him leave her.

Pulling into the drive, Nik had to fight to hold back the fear still crawling through his system. Seeing Luke Nelson's arm around her neck, that gun pointing toward her, had nearly destroyed his soul. If anything had happened to her . . .

Leaving the truck, he moved around to the passenger side, opened the door, and

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helped her out. Clasping her waist with his hands, he nearly didn't set her on her feet. He almost carried her to the house, desperate to keep his hands on her.

He wasn't going to make it.

He could feel it. The fear and hunger were ripping through him, making it

impossible for him to hold on to his self-control.

He didn't let her go.

Swinging her into his arms, feeling her hands grip his shoulders in surprise, Nik

carried her to the house. Unlocking the door took a few seconds longer. Locking it back was almost forgotten as she buried her face in his neck and he felt her tears.

Tears she hadn't shed at the height of the danger. Tears she hadn't allowed him to see in the truck.

What would happen to him if he lost her?

Nik knew he would never be able to survive if Mikayla was taken from his arms.

He didn't set her down on her feet until he reached the bedroom. Then he still

didn't put her on her feet. He laid her back on the bed and proceeded to slowly, easily, remove her clothing before tearing his own from his body.

He had to touch her. He had to feel her.

Ah, God.

"Never again." The words tore from Nik's throat as he came over her, his lips burrowing in her neck. "Never again, baby. Sweet God, it won't happen again."

There was no time for preliminaries, no time to get a handle on himself or to

balance the combination of hunger, rage, and fear that whipped through his system.

His lips covered hers as he felt her arms wrap around him, holding on to him

tight, so tight. But nothing was as tight as the hold she had on his soul. Nothing as warm as the pure, sweet heat of her flesh against his, her lips moving beneath his, her tongue dancing with his.

"Sweet Mikayla," he groaned, his lips moving to her neck, his tongue stroking her flesh, tasting her as he moved desperately between her thighs, parting them, lifting them to his hips as he pressed against the slick, silken folds of her pussy.

Her flesh parted, giving and soft beneath the iron-hard head of his cock. Pressing inside her, he breathed out roughly as he felt her inner muscles begin to clench and tighten around him.

Nothing was so sweet, so beautiful, as his little fairy.

Lifting his head, staring down at her, he watched her face as he took her. Watched the soft heat that filled her gaze, the sensuality that overwhelmed her expression.

Sweet Lord, he could never live without this again. How the hell could he ever

live without her touch, her laughter, without the pure unbridled hunger she filled him with?

"Hold me." The words were torn from him; he couldn't hold them back as she took him, the milking sweetness of her pussy wrapping around his cock. It flexed,

rippled, held him like the sweetest, tightest glove.

"I'll always hold you." Her voice, her vow, washed over him, locked her inside his soul.

He had to leave her. When it was over, when he'd taken this last taste of sweetness that he would allow himself, then he had to leave. It was the only way to protect her. It was the only way to ensure . . .

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How?

Pushing in to the hilt, he groaned her name. God knew he meant to hold back. He

needed to hold back. He needed to be strong enough to leave her, but how the hell was he supposed to do that?

Live without this?

His cock was buried in pure, liquid heat. It clenched around him; tight muscles

stroked the sensitive head, tightened around the shaft as her juices dampened his balls.

He wanted to hold inside her forever, to feel nothing but her hot, tight pussy

flexing around him. But each subtle stroke pierced his control, frayed it, until he had to move.

He'd go slow, he promised himself.

As he moved back, his teeth clenched at the slow drag of her silken grip against

his cock.

He was losing it.

The pleasure was ripping through him. He couldn't handle it. He couldn't hold

back.

"Fuck. Baby." The growl that tore from him came with a hard thrust of his hips, and then it was over.

Pushing inside her, stroking into her, he began throwing them both into the

maelstrom of pure hot bliss.

It overtook him. He could feel it overtaking her. Her legs wrapped around his

hips, her arms around his neck. With each thrust inside her, she arched upward with her hips, taking him deeper, taking him harder.

He was wild with the need for her. Crazy for her touch.

Nothing had ever hit him so hard or taken him with the power with which she was

taking him, accepting him. He'd never known pleasure like he knew with her at the

moment he felt her unraveling around him. Her pussy tightened, her juices flowed, and she shuddered in his arms as he felt her coming, felt her losing herself to the pleasure he gave her.

"I love you, Nik. Oh, God, Nik. I love you."

The pleasure she gave him.

His release tore through him. It ruptured inside him, spurting from his cock in

hard, hot jets as he heard himself groan her name. Fought, held back the emotions ripping through him, and swore he had never known anything this powerful, this exquisite, in his life.

He'd never known love, but he knew it now.

Burying his head at her shoulder, he gave in to it, let it tear through him, let it have him.

And he knew without Mikayla there was no love, no laughter, there was no life.

Nik was gone when Mikayla awoke the next morning.

Rising from the bed, she felt her stomach tighten in panic and fear, felt the pain that tore through her.