Cowboy Boots and Unadulterated Pleasures [Cowboy Boots 4] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) Page 14

  “Someone kill the connection between the tunnels and upstairs!” Colt screamed, dropping to his knees and covering Daniel’s body with his own. The last thing he wanted was for Kelly to see her father’s fallen form, the bullet’s damage.

  “Ah fuck,” Gabe muttered, standing over Daniel.

  “What have we done?” Kemper asked, pacing wildly as he rubbed his barely there hair. “Damn it, Daniel. Damn you!”

  Brand’s eyes watered as he squatted across from Colt. He bowed his head and looked as if he uttered a prayer, then to Colt’s surprise, he walked over to the phone and said, “Donovan, I think you’ve caused enough damage here today. If we need you, we’ll be in touch.”

  Before Brock said anything else, Brand disconnected the call and yanked the cord from the wall.

  Kemper and Gabe backed away from Daniel’s body as if they were afraid his blood was contaminated with a gambler’s poison, a toxic fume that might leave them susceptible to the same addiction that had driven the gambler and ruined the man.

  Colt squeezed his eyes shut, stuffing his thumb and forefinger in the corners in an effort to stop the tears. He’d spent years under Daniel’s guidance. He’d trained under him, fought beside him, and now here he was, watching as his blood ran free of his body, leaving a pool of rich color around his head like a tarnished red crown inlayed with chunks of his scalp.

  “God forgive us,” Colt whispered as he fought to come to terms with the loss. Rising to his feet, he immediately turned his focus to three of his men. “I’ll get this mess cleaned up.” He didn’t mean to sound insensitive, but he had to draw on every inch of strength to keep from breaking in front of them. “No one mention this to Crue. We’ll tell them after we dig them out.”

  “He’ll scan the footage when he first wakes up,” Brand pointed out. “You know he’ll be concerned about the team.”

  “If he does, he’ll make a call,” Colt said quietly, pain stricken by the horror he’d see on Kelly’s face once she realized her father had killed himself.

  “They’ll be up soon. If I know Crue, he’ll start making his demands and screaming for us to get him out of there,” Gabe said.

  “Go now,” Colt said, realizing his orders sounded more like a plea. “We need them out. There’s no doubt Daniel was in touch with Lorenzo on a regular basis. When Lorenzo can’t reach him, they may return here. And if they do, they’ll be better prepared with more manpower.”

  Gabe and Brand left the room. Kemper studied him. “You okay, man?”

  “No, but give me an hour and I’ll be fine.”

  “We all will,” Kemper promised. “Let me know if you need a hand.”

  Kemper left and Colt’s phone rang in his pocket. Fishing the device from his jeans, he said, “Donovan, I’m in no mood to talk to you.”

  “Maybe you will be when you see what I just faxed over. Daniel cut a deal this morning. He must’ve realized we knew all about his transgressions when he walked into the room with his head between his legs. He was definitely ready to kiss his sorry ass good-bye. He’d already said farewell to everything else he viewed as important.”

  “You had a hand in stripping away his pride,” Colt accused. “The way you handled this situation left a lot to be desired.”

  “He traded his debt for you and the rest of the team,” Brock said. “And Kelly.”

  “What are you talking about?” Colt asked, feeling as if he’d been shot through the heart.

  “Lorenzo and Daniel spoke on the phone while you and the others were watching your home movies. Daniel cut a deal with Lorenzo. He agreed to wipe out the debt in exchange for your lives—and Kelly’s—but promised not to kill Kelly by brutal means.”

  Colt nearly fell against the wall. Remembering Donovan had his eyes on him as he shared the news, he forced himself to the window and stared out at the picturesque sunrise, trying to forget the harrowing events in the recent past. “What kind of father does this sort of thing to his daughter?”

  “One with his ass in a bind,” Brock replied. “I’ve seen drug addicts trade their kids for a fix on the streets, even when they’re fully aware of a pedophile’s intentions before he takes their child by the hand.

  “I’ve watched the exchange of sickening and perverse favors between pimps and their whores when they’re trying to keep them addicted to the needle so they’ll keep pumping cocks. Problem gamblers are addicts, too. They’re no different than any other. The self-destruction often spirals out of control and eventually affects those they once loved and admired most.”

  “But to trade his debt for his daughter’s life?” Colt was sick to his stomach.

  “Now you see why I pushed him over the edge,” Brock said.

  Colt pulled at his bottom lip as he listened to Donovan carefully relay Lorenzo’s plans, what he held in store for each of them. He’d been wrong before when he’d watched Kemper and Gabe back away from Daniel’s corpse.

  Daniel was contaminated. His blood was tainted.

  As Colt stepped over the Daniel’s body, he felt no remorse. All sadness had been wiped away. He’d fetch the fax and show the others. Then, if he had to dig out Crue and Kelly using his fingernails, he’d do what was necessary. One way or another, he would wrap his arms around her and hold her tonight. He’d soothe away the pain and reassure her. One day her life would return to some level of normalcy.

  It just might take a while. The way he saw things, they still had his dream of forever on their side.

  * * * *

  Crue awoke with a start. Reaching for Kelly as if he’d been rolling over to her for the last three hundred and sixty-four days of his life, he leaned on one elbow and let his eyes adjust to the light.

  “Kelly?”

  When she didn’t respond, Crue slung the bedcovers back and left the bed, not taking the time to dress. He had plans anyway. He intended to haul her pretty little ass back to bed.

  Entering the large recreation room, Crue immediately saw two frozen images. On the largest monitor, Colt hovered over a body, one he couldn’t identify due to the blood and gore.

  “Kelly? Who is that?” His voice demanded immediate answers as his throat constricted. With Colt deliberately blocking their view, this couldn’t be good. “Kelly! Who?”

  He hadn’t thought before he spoke. He’d failed to pay attention to the ashen color of her skin, the slump of her shoulders, or the tears on her face. He didn’t notice anything unusual until she refused him an answer.

  “Ah no,” Crue said, dragging his palms across his face, reading her expression with ease now. For a man who typically prided himself for quick thinking on his feet, he’d failed miserably.

  Daniel. It has to be Daniel.

  Squatting in front of her, Crue took her hands in his. “Kelly? What happened?”

  She shook her head. Her eyes were set and her mouth was nothing more than a parched, thin line.

  “Honey, who did this?”

  “He did,” she whispered, still staring at the computer.

  As if a foreign object had punctured his lung, he gasped for air and studied the screen. Colt had killed Daniel? No! He couldn’t believe that unless he saw proof with his own eyes. Shielding her body with his, Crue pried the remote control away from her fingers and held her against him.

  Before he hit the rewind option, he studied his brother’s face. Colt looked as if he were trying to stand in between the camera’s lens and Daniel’s body. He had tried to protect Kelly.

  Then what the fuck had he been thinking? Why would he kill one of their own? There had to be some mistake!

  Pressing the rewind button, he hit pause before he played the footage. “Do you want me to wait?”

  Kelly looked at him as if she didn’t see him. “No. I’ve seen it several times already.”

  “Honey, why didn’t you wake me?”

  She blinked once. “There wasn’t anything you could do.” She blinked again. “Unless you can turn back time.” She looked at him dead-on. “Can you
do that, Crue?”

  He cupped her cheek and planted a firm kiss on her forehead. This time, he cupped her nape and held her head against his chest, trying his best to be a symbol of strength when she needed him most. At the same time, he hit play and watched the nightmare unfold.

  Brock Donovan—damned bastard—had taunted him. He’d stripped the man of what little pride he had left and then handed over the US-West Division of the Underground Unit to Colt. Refusing to discuss their mission in front of Daniel must’ve pushed him over the edge. Crue saw where this was heading long before Daniel lifted the gun and blew away any future chance of setting things right.

  The graphic scene was like one from a horror flick. Blood and brains squirted to the side as the gunshot resounded. His brother screamed, leaping sideways as if an afterthought, but not at all an afterthought. Kemper and Brand rushed him, their pale flesh obvious signs of their very real despair.

  Then there was Gabe. Where the hell had he been? He sprinted across the room with his gun drawn. He stilled before them, his mouth gaping, his eyes wide.

  Fury spun through Crue’s veins as he watched Kelly sink into a deep grief, one he and Colt knew well. When a parent died in front of their child’s eyes, regardless of their age, death took a very cruel toll. He should know. Thanks to his father’s career with the Underground Unit, both of his parents had died execution-style.

  Snatching his cell phone, he hit the code for his brother and the others. After five rings, they were all connected. “What happened?” he asked, barely able to speak as his heavy gaze met Kelly’s.

  She propped up her elbow on the chair, placing her chin on her hand. Looking the other way, she sobbed as the intensity of her pain increased.

  “Are we on speaker?”

  “No,” Crue said. “Do we need to be?”

  “Yes,” Colt replied. “I need her to know we couldn’t stop this, Crue.”

  “That’s debatable.”

  “No,” Brand said. “We were there, but it all happened so quickly. If you watch the replays—”

  “Replays?” she asked suddenly, apparently able to hear every word. “Replays?” she screamed as her tears streamed down her face. “Who the fuck replays death? It’s not as if we’re watching television! We aren’t watching a football game where a man steps out of bounds and the commentators are talking amongst themselves, saying, ‘Oh, this one is just too close to call.’ The end result is obvious! His death is set in stone and Brock Donovan is responsible!”

  By this time, Crue had pressed the speaker button and he held the phone between them. He placed the device on the computer desk and stroked her head, trying to comfort her, but failing miserably at giving her what she needed. Fact was, she needed Colt. He was better at consoling her. He’d been there for her when her mother died and beautifully stepped up to the plate to help her deal with her grief in a timely manner.

  He’d help her through her father’s death, too.

  Crue cursed himself as he thought of how he so easily passed the buck. Colt wasn’t there. The others couldn’t help him. At this moment, when she needed someone most, he was all she had.

  Damn if she didn’t have sorry luck.

  Gathering her in his arms, he held her against him and tried to reassure her as Colt gently explained what they’d learned from Brock. He promised to e-mail a copy of the fax and other proof of what her father had planned to do—trade their lives in exchange for his gambling debt.

  “Kelly, I’m so sorry,” Colt said. “I want you to know we’re all here for you. We will protect you. We will help you get through this.”

  Kelly glared at the phone. “How do you propose to do that, Colt? Hmm? From what you’ve said, there’s a man out there who wants to extinguish the threat our division represents. My father gave him too much information. How the hell do you think we’ll ever protect ourselves when he knows our moves before we make them?”

  Colt cleared his throat. “Kelly, the Unit isn’t your responsibility. You’re our responsibility. We will protect you. We’ll keep you safe, but you will not fight beside us. Your father had no right to induct you into our training program and our ways. I’ll talk to Donovan and make sure he understands. You are not indebted to the Unit and you pose no threat by walking away from the duties your father inflicted on you because of his own personal distress.”

  “Colt?” Her eyes became dark and distant.

  “Yes. I’m still here.”

  “Good. Go fuck yourself.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Rebounding from grief wasn’t exactly a tissue box with a million-dollar prize on the bottom, but the tears ceased to fall after Kelly read the details of what her father had proposed.

  Kelly’s father had offered her life and the lives of his operatives in exchange for debt relief and a fresh start. He allowed for certain stipulations in regards to the casino, but when it came to negotiating the terms for his daughter’s life, Daniel had no real interest in doing so.

  In exchange for their lives, Lorenzo had promised to vacate the premises and guaranteed that his associates wouldn’t try to go after the casino and its holdings. The sorry bastard didn’t know her father never owned the casino in the first place. The casino belonged to the Underground Unit.

  After Kelly scarfed down a freeze-dried meal for nutrition purposes, she walked in the bathroom and glared at herself in the mirror. She looked like hell.

  Crue had been working with Riley Donovan. Together, they’d been trying to find Lorenzo’s whereabouts. Several calls and e-mails had been exchanged.

  Kelly had a good idea where Lorenzo might be, but she wasn’t about to tell them what she knew until she had a chance to speak with Brock Donovan. As she considered what she might say to Brock, she also thought about Colt and his damned determination.

  He didn’t want her in the Underground Unit. He would do whatever he could to convince Brock to release her from her duties. With deep concern, she eyed Crue. He was engulfed in whatever he and Riley were discussing, rapidly entering data as they planned for hypothetical attacks, trying to guess at how many men Lorenzo had at his disposal here in the States.

  Easing into the bedroom, Kelly sat on the edge of the bed and concentrated on the terms of agreement from the papers she’d read. Her father, without a doubt, had grown to resent those he’d once claimed to love. He’d developed a profound bitterness for the team he’d trained, for the men he’d once loved like his own sons.

  His gambling debt had overwhelmed him. His involvement with Lorenzo had ruined him. He didn’t just have an addiction. He had a sickness, one which ate away at his heart and soul worse than any cancer.

  Retrieving her phone, she dialed Brock and waited.

  “I’ve been expecting your call,” he said.

  “If I’m out, you tell me I’m out. I don’t want to hear the news from Colt Candy.”

  The line went silent.

  “So?” she pressed. “What’s it gonna be, Donovan?”

  “I think you know more than you’re telling us.”

  “Damn straight, and the information I have is valuable. Do you really want to cut me free just because Colt isn’t comfortable working with a woman?”

  “I think his reasons for wanting you out are a little more complex than that.”

  “Then why don’t you explain them to me, because I’m not a little girl who can be told to go sit and mind her manners in the corner.”

  “I know, Kelly. I’ve seen you in action.” His voice held a hint of humor and she felt her skin flush as she thought about the facts as she knew them. He had surveillance planted in her father’s Nevada home, which meant he’d undoubtedly seen plenty. The night before had been recorded for the boys watching upstairs.

  Shit. He probably saw her as a liability, or perhaps he viewed her as any other man might if they had been watching from the outside. “Just because you may have seen clips of an intimate moment, don’t mistakenly believe I’m just another submissive woman spreadi
ng her legs wide, willing to wait for a good fuck.”

  He remained silent. Knowing Donovan, he was trying to get a read on her stability. A lot had occurred in the last twenty-four hours.

  “I’m serious, Brock. This is business. The other stuff you’ve seen doesn’t matter here.”

  “I disagree,” he said. “It matters. At least it matters to someone—Colt, Crue, hell, probably the lot of them—but as far as I’m concerned? That’s their business. I have a submissive woman and I could care less about putting the screws to you or anyone else. Do your damned job and you can keep it. If you don’t, you know the consequences and no one leaves this business unscathed, Kelly. Colt Candy in their corner or no Colt Candy.”

  “So will you tell him, or shall I?”

  “I have a feeling he already knows.”

  * * * *

  “You called Brock?” Crue asked, standing in the doorway. He’d overheard bits and pieces of the conversation while he’d been talking to Riley.

  “You finally decided to dress?” she asked. Her gaze flitted over him. By the disappointed look on her face, she appreciated him more when he’d strolled around without a thread of clothing to cover him.

  “Was that a wise decision?”

  “What, calling Brock, or doing it without asking permission?”

  “You don’t need my permission to lead your life how you see fit. I’ve always made my wishes known. I don’t role-play, but outside of our bedroom, you’re free to do whatever you choose. We understand one another, or so I thought.”

  “Do we?” she asked, rising to her feet. “I don’t know, Crue. I’m constantly in a state of confusion around you.”

  Her hot gaze seared his skin. His cock twitched in his jeans and he found himself moistening his lips, craving her kiss. Maybe she was in a constant state of confusion, but he was in a steady state of heightened arousal and had been since her father—louse that he was—had assigned him and Gabe to cover her as shadows.

  “How do I confuse you?” he asked.

  “For starters, you mention ‘our bedroom’ as if we’ve been in bed together in recent weeks and months.”