Training Their Mate [Pack Wars-Book 1] (11 page)

Only after his cock stopped
pulsating, did his fingers on her head relax.

The sound of someone clapping
startled her. “Nice job you two.”

Crap
. It was Trax. He’d come down from the
house. How had she not heard him approach? She bolted upright and turned around
to get a read on him. He seemed to be a mix of pissed and amused.

“We’re just finishing,” Dante
said. “Liz was tired of being pent up in the apartment and came down to say
hi.”

Trax stuck his thumbs in his
pockets. “Are you telling me you didn’t hear Mr. Anderson come in?”

She hadn’t, but then again,
she’d been busy. She glanced up at Dante and his face had lost color. “No. What
did he want?”

“He wasn’t sure how to use
the
Home Monitoring Camera WVC80N.”

“You
helped him?”

“Yes.
I couldn’t exactly say the owner was getting his rocks off in plain sight on
aisle one now, could I?”

She
almost laughed at that comment but managed to keep her expression blank. Only
then did it occur to her that if Trax was here, Couch must be in jail.

“So
you got him?”

Trax’s
jaw hardened and his hands fisted for a moment. “No.”

“Why
not?” As soon as those words came out, she regretted her tone.

He
moved closer. “He wasn’t in his office and he wasn’t at home. Got any ideas
where he might be?” He moved so close, he loomed over her.

“I
only worked for him for one day, but I did copy his agenda for the next day or
two.”

Trax
didn’t move. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

You never asked
.
“I assumed you’d pick him up at the office and he’d never make his
appointments.”

Trax
pulled out his phone, tapped once, and swiped his finger across the screen.
“Where will he be tomorrow or later today?”

“I
have the information upstairs.”

“Let’s
go.” Trax strode toward the door that led to the apartment.

Dante
placed a hand on her back. “Better do as he says. When he fails at something,
he’s a bear.”

She
wanted to kiss him and say how amazing he was, but she’d tell him later.
Jogging, she rushed up behind Trax. By the time she reached the apartment he’d
already retrieved a beer from the fridge.

“It’s
in my purse.”

“Find
it.”

Her
mind raced as she went into the bedroom. If she just told him the information,
he’d take it and leave again, and she’d never get the satisfaction of seeing
Couch go down.

Inside
her purse she looked through the scraps of paper. Each one had an appointment
listed. According to one of them, Mr. Couch was meeting someone at the shipyard
at five tonight. That was in two hours. Not wanting to show her whole hand, she
ripped up the paper. She went out to meet Trax.

He
nodded. “Well?”

Liz
straightened her shoulders. “He has a meeting in two hours.”

“Where?”

“I’m
not telling unless you take me with you.”

He
stepped closer and her pulse raced. His gaze never left her face. The last time
he’d been this intense, he’d kissed her. The thought of almost making love with
one man, then kissing another should have horrified her, but with these men, it
felt right. Dante claimed they shared, so her guilt wasn’t as great.

“You
know the answer.” A nerve pulsed around his eye and his lips thinned.

“Then
I’m not telling you where the appointment is.”

He
stared for several seconds most likely deciding what to do with her. “Fine.
I’ll call my men. Be ready in thirty minutes.”

If
he hadn’t been watching, she would have pumped her fist. “You won’t be sorry.”

“I
already am.”

Chapter
Nine

Trax
drove his SUV, and the other four men followed in another vehicle. When he
introduced her to
Drake, Kurt, Clay, and Dirk,
she was confident they could take care of Couch quite easily. All four had
powerful builds and moved like highly trained dancers.

“Head out on Highway 39,” she told him.

He glanced over at her. “Then where to?”

She wasn’t going to let him trick her. “I’ll
tell you when we get there.”

He huffed out a breath, but she refused to give
in. They rode in silence for the next fifteen minutes. Finally, she couldn’t
take his sullenness. “I don’t see why you’re so mad. It’s not like you’re
giving me a gun or that I’m insisting on hunting down Couch myself.”

“You got that right.”

“Don’t you ever loosen up?”

“Not when I have a job to do. Couch is highly
dangerous. I told you what would happen if the authorities found out about his
illegal operations and catch him.”

“Yes, but you’ll catch him first and put in a
jail for his kind.”

He shot one more glance at her as he turned on
the highway. “You’ve mentioned several times that Couch stole your life. It’s
your mom who suffered.”

She’d been waiting for him to connect the dots.
“That’s true, but my dad was greatly affected, too. He left us about eighteen
years ago after my mother stopped coming out of her room. Eventually, the money
ran out for good schools or anything.”

“I’m sorry.”

Only because he sounded sincere, did she drop
it. “Take the next right turn.”

Trax nodded. “Couch had an appointment at the
shipyard?”

“Yes.”

He pulled out his phone and told his cell to
call Kurt. “We’re headed to the docks. We’ll park and then set up
surveillance.” He disconnected.

“How are you planning to capture him? Walk up
to him and slap on cuffs?”

“Does it matter as long as he’s incarcerated
for the rest of his miserable life?”

“No. I just want two minutes with him to see
why he came back after all those years.”

Trax didn’t answer.

They entered the shipyard. Several large
tankers were in dry dock and a variety of tugs and other commercial boats
filled the harbor. Cargo boxes like the type that went on top of a train sat
off to the side.

Trax drove around, probably scoping out the
place, then went to the far end of the lot near the street and parked. “You
should be safe here. It’s in plain view of the road.”

He got out of the car, came over to her side,
and pulled open the door. Her pulse spiked. Had he decided she deserved to be
the one to pull the trigger? To be honest, now that she understood how hard it
was to kill the bastard, she didn’t want to get anywhere near him.

Trax leaned in. “This is for your safety.”

She didn’t understand what that meant until he
clasped a handcuff around her wrist and attached the other end to the handle
above the door. “Again? Are you serious? I won’t get out of the car. I
promise.”

The door slammed shut and her ire ratcheted
tenfold. What was wrong with that man? Okay, he could have tortured her into
telling him the time, date, and place, but instead he honored her wish
regarding her need to see Harvey Couch taken down. Regardless, his attitude
rankled.

The five men dispersed and seconds later she
was unable to spot any of the men or any other worker for that matter. It was a
little before five and there should have been people about cleaning the ships
and doing repairs. Right?

She checked the car doors to make sure they were
locked even though she’d heard them click closed when he’d pointed the remote.
She wished he’d at least let her roll down the window a few inches to let in
air. She jangled her wrist, but of course, the cuffs held.

Damn
. Now for the interminable wait. If she’d
brought her purse, she could have called Chelsea. At least if her friend knew
where she was, Liz would have felt better. Not that anything would happen with
five super humans running around after one older man, but being out in the open
didn’t make her feel all that secure.

With the engine off, the clock wasn’t engaged,
and time dragged. She kept her eye on the containers where she thought Couch
would meet his contact. Several times, she checked the road to see who might
pull in.

After twenty minutes, she gave up trying to
find anyone. She’d hoped one of the guys would have gotten on top of the
containers and watched from there. She might have kept an eye on him that way.

Trax and the men had to be lying in wait ready
to pounce from somewhere. They’d already gone to Couch’s home, so maybe Mrs.
Couch had warned her husband that Trax was looking for him. Perhaps the man had
decided to lie low and not meet his contact.

A white Mercedes drove past her and her pulse
raced. She tried to get a look at who was in the front seat, but the dark
tinted windows prevented her.
Damn
. Hopefully,
Trax and his men knew the type of car Couch drove. Goose bumps raced up her arm
at the thought of the vile man being near.

The car disappeared behind the containers.
Perhaps the driver was the person Couch was to meet.

She dropped back her head and let out a groan.
Stakeouts sucked. She’d just about given up on them catching the guy when a
knock sounded on her window. She bolted upright.

Holy
fuck!
It was Couch bending over
and grinning at her. She patted the seat for her purse that contained her gun remembering
once more she hadn’t brought it.

“Mr. Couch.” Since she wasn’t wearing much
makeup, and only had on a T-shirt and a light sweater instead of something
sexy, perhaps he wouldn’t recognize her. Then how could she explain knowing his
name?
You’re an idiot
.

He placed his palm on the window and then
pounded on the glass three times. Her heart rate shot through the roof and she
yanked the cuff to get loose. Did he think he could shatter the glass?
Dear God in Heaven.

“I know who you are, Ms. Wharton. Tsk, tsk for
trying to fool me.” The windows made it hard to hear the tone of his voice, but
from the way he curled his lip he was pissed. Her throat closed up and her ribs
squeezed her heart tight.

He stepped back, pulled out his gun, and aimed.

Oh,
shit. Oh, shit
. Her heart jumped up her
throat. She tried to duck, but with her arm attached to the overhead handle,
she couldn’t move.
Oh, fuck
. Three
pops sounded. She waited for the bullets to pierce her body and the life to
drain out, but nothing happened. She opened her eyes. The window didn’t
shatter. Did his gun have blanks and he was only trying to scare her?

If so, he’d succeeded.

He lowered his arm and sneered. “Next time, you
won’t be in a car.”

The ass turned around as calm as could be and
walked toward the exit. No new car was visible so how had he gotten here?

She tugged hard on the restraint but it
wouldn’t budge. “Aargh.”

Trax needed to know Couch was here. She
searched the docks, but like before, saw no one.

Then the Mercedes eased out from behind the
containers and exited the shipyard. Surely, Trax and his men had checked out
the driver. She twisted around to see if the car stopped to picked up Couch,
but it didn’t. Her foot tapped a hard beat on the floor trying to locate him.
She couldn’t.

What seemed like forever later, Trax stepped
from behind a tanker and motioned his men to retreat. As soon as she saw him,
the tension dissipated, but her pits wreaked and sweat beaded her forehead.

Trax pulled open the door. His face said it
all. He’d failed.

She twisted in her seat. Her throat was so dry
she feared the words wouldn’t come out. “Couch was here and he tried to shoot
me.” Her breaths whooshed out.

His eyes darkened and his lip twitched. “When?”

Now that she was safe, her bravado disappeared
and a tear brimmed her lash. Her body sagged. “Can you undo me?” She wiggled
her arm.

“Babe, I’m sorry I had to do that.”

The endearment swirled inside her and helped
heal the fear a little. “You had to. Maybe if you hadn’t, Couch would have
tried to take me.” Her stomach almost heaved.

“He’ll never get near you. I promise.” He
unlocked the cuff and she lowered her arm. She rubbed the fingers that had
almost gone asleep.

She didn’t want to tell him that unless he
locked her in his apartment, he couldn’t keep her safe. “He already did. He
shot the window, but maybe he didn’t have real bullets.”

“The windows are bulletproof. I never would
have let you come if I didn’t know you were totally safe from Couch and from
yourself.”

The tears she’d held back so long fell. She
sniffled and swallowed hating this ordeal wasn’t over.

Trax pulled out his phone and called one of his
men. He told him Couch had been there and they’d just missed him. He then faced
her. “Tell me everything.”