Sins Brothers [1] Forgotten Sins (38 page)
“You’re welcome,” his brothers both said quietly and in unison.
Nate sighed. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”
He did. And he knew, without a doubt, that his brother would protect Josie with his life if Shane were off on a mission.
Nathan stretched his arms. “Enough emotion—next we’re going to end up hugging and talking about our feelings. I’ve been monitoring all lines… no record of the explosion or anyone falling out of a plane.”
Shane hissed out a breath. Damn government conspirators. He’d even dropped off the body of the dead pilot near the explosion site when he’d fetched his brothers. Apparently the commander had gained some serious clout. “I talked to Malloy. He came up with some story about an anonymous tip that he checked out at the airport… and found the fire and bodies.”
“The cop is protecting us?” Matt asked, both eyebrows raised.
“Yes.” Shane stretched his hands. “Malloy’s a good guy—and he wants Josie to be safe. We’re the only ones who can guarantee that.”
Matt eyed Shane. “Well?”
“Well what?” He fought the urge to shift his weight under the watchful gaze of his older brother.
“Say what you can’t figure out how to say.” Matt took another swallow of beer.
“I think maybe Jory is alive.”
The world froze. Or maybe only his brothers stopped moving. Stopped breathing.
“What did you say?” Only Nate’s lips moved. His body remained still, ready to pounce.
Shane eyed each of his brothers in turn. “I said that maybe Jory is alive. Or rather, maybe he didn’t die from those bullet wounds.” If his brother was still alive, why hadn’t he contacted them? “I saw a second video. He might’ve blinked.” Or it was a trick of the lighting.
“Jesus.” Nathan dropped into a vacant chair. “Might have? Shane, you’re dreaming here. I understand it, but you’re dreaming.”
Matt’s expression didn’t change. Pure stone. But those eyes. Dark, dangerous, they swirled with enough emotion to make sound. “Tell me you’re sure.”
“I’m not sure.” Shane squared his jaw. “There was a second video, and he may have blinked. That’s why I broke cover and headed to Seattle. To see you—see if any of your contacts could get a better image from the video.” The video that had disappeared along with his memories—probably in the river.
“What happened after he blinked?” Matt asked.
Shane concentrated on the memory. The camera angle had been toward the floor, where Jory lay. “A pair of shoes, high heels, crossed in front of the camera. Female hands grabbed his shoulders.” Doubt filled Shane as the memories tumbled back. He might be giving his brothers false hope. “Then the video went blank.”
“Dr. Madison?” Nathan hissed.
“I don’t know.” Many women wore high heels. God help Jory if it had been the psychotic doctor.
“Where’s the video?” Ty asked.
“I don’t know,” Shane repeated. “Though chances are I had it at the house I stayed in to watch Josie.”
Matt jumped to his feet. “We need to search that house and break into the police evidence room to find it. Probably on some sort of flash drive.” He glanced at Shane’s battered torso. “Good job, Shane.”
Shane shrugged. “I wish I could say for sure. Nathan’s right. I may be dreaming.” But he’d move hell to find out the truth. “I stopped by to get Josie on the way to Seattle, found the bugs, and figured I’d better hang tight to see if the commander found her—hoping I’d find him.” And have some answers about Jory.
Matt nodded. “Yeah, I get that. Shane, stay here and monitor the lines for any information on the explosion in Washington while you get your wife settled in. Nate will head back to Snowville to find the flash drive.”
Nathan stood. “I put the Texas coordinates in your phone for your next mission.”
“Thanks.” Matt poured the rest of his beer down the drain of the sink. He turned and strode from the house.
Shane frowned. “What’s in Texas?”
Nathan sighed. “Hopefully more intel on the commander and his funding.” He set down his beer and eyed the door. “I’ll go talk to Mattie before he leaves.”
Shane stretched to his feet, careful of the bandages around his torso. Long strides had him pushing open the heavy oak door to the guest room. Josie sat on the bed dressed in a sweat suit, her wet hair wisping around her face. Fragile and soft, she took up a tiny space on the huge bed.
His heart thumped. Hard. “Are you all right?”
She arched an eyebrow. “Of course. I’m not the one covered in bandages.”
He smiled, kicking the door shut behind him. Determined steps brought him to the bed. “So.”
“So.” Her intoxicating scent of wild berries filled the room, filled his heart. “Um. Thanks for my clothes. For having Matt grab them.”
“Sure. We’ll get the rest this week. In fact, we’ll get all your belongings for you.” He tucked his hands in his jean pockets to keep from reaching for her. They needed to talk. “First, I just heard from Malloy, and he came up with a pretty creative explanation as to why he was at the airport. But he played dumb as to why there are dead bodies around. Just claimed that he caught the end of the fight.”
Relief played across her pretty face. “I’m glad. He wanted to help me.”
“He helped us all. We definitely owe Detective Malloy a favor or two.” Shane cleared his throat. “Second, I don’t want to lie to you.” There had to be a smooth way to get her to stay. But all training, all manipulation flew out the window when he dealt with her. She deserved the truth.
“That would be a nice change.” A small dimple flirted at the corner of her mouth. The raw bruise on her cheekbone made him hope Tom landed on a spike.
“Do you love me?” He needed to know. He needed to hear her say the words.
Her eyes darkened to nearly purple. “I love you.” She plucked at a loose string on the duvet. “I always have.”
“You’re the only woman I’ve ever loved.” He couldn’t live without her. Didn’t want to. “I’m selfish, Josie. Life is hard, and I don’t want to fight it without you.” Sparks flared in her stunning eyes, and he fought a grin. “Because I love you. Because I need you with me. When I stopped by your house on the way to Seattle, I was going to ask you for another chance. Ask you to go with me to meet Matt.” Of course, he’d found bugs in her house instead.
He rested one knee on the bed. If he had to get her naked to listen to him, he would. “Now I could lie and say you need to stay here for safety.” He shrugged. “But you don’t. We could get you a new identity. Lots of money, lots of safety. You don’t need my protection.”
“I know.”
“But I need you. We’re family, and I need you in my life more than I need air. Please stay.”
Josie eyed her husband. She didn’t need his protection, but it was nice that someone finally had her back. The world was scary, and she’d navigated it for so long by herself. “I like your protection.” The words hinted at a vulnerability she’d never allowed herself to voice. “I like feeling safe.”
While they may only have three months together, she wanted every second. And she’d do whatever she could to make sure they had longer.
His gray eyes warmed to heated silver. Sliding forward onto the bed, he rolled onto his back and lifted her to straddle his groin. She settled herself away from his bandages. “I’ll keep you safe, angel.”
“Sure.” She flashed him a smile that even felt flirty. “We just need to catch the commander, destroy that bitch Dr. Madison, and find the truth about Jory. While remaining safe.”
Shane ran his hands down her arms to clasp her hands. “So you’ll stay married to me?”
“Yes.” Hell yes. He was everything she’d ever wanted. Family. Hers. And even better, he came with brothers.
Sorrow swirled in his eyes. “There’s a chance I can’t have kids. We don’t know if it’s possible. They might’ve goofed up our DNA so much that we can’t.” Vulnerability twisted his lips.
Her heart warmed, and she reached out to frame his face. “We’re going to get past the next three months and make sure that chip is gone. Then, we’re in this life together. If we can have kids, and we want to, we will. If not, we’ll adopt. Or it’ll just be us. Together.” Equal partners. “But I want all of you. The good and bad—no more secrets or hiding.”
“What about your numbers and accounting? I know how much it means to you.”
She shook her head. “Being needed and being counted on matter to me. I can have that without the numbers, without the clients. I have that with you.” There was no comparison between a job and the man she loved. He won, hands down.
“I do need you.” He smiled. “You have all of me. Forever.”
Those were the words she’d needed to hear for so long. Her heart warmed, and peace settled her shoulders. “Good. Since we’re here, and I’m a genius with accounting as well as business… how about I help Nate with Sins Security?”
Approval lit Shane’s dark eyes. “Excellent idea. The guy could use help.”
“And when you need a woman on a mission, I’m your gal. Sometimes men can’t go everywhere.”
“When I need a woman, you’re the only one I’d want.” His grin promised he wouldn’t be asking.
That’s what he thought. “I plan to help.”
“You will.” His lids lowered to half-mast, his gray gaze darkening. Her thighs softened in response. With a quick movement, he yanked her shirt over her head.
“Hey,” she protested. “You’re injured.”
“So be gentle with me.” He reached for the tie on her sweats.
“Why? I don’t like gentle any more than you do.”
“I like you any way I can get you.” He lifted her to tug off her pants. His nimble fingers ran along the outside of her panties. “I love you, Josie Dean.”
“I love you, too.” Her heart melted while her body quivered. “I’ll try to be very gentle with you since you’re so obviously injured.” She rolled her eyes. “But I wouldn’t want to tame you too much, Major Dean.”
The world tilted, and she yelped, finding herself under a soldier. He settled his erection between her legs. “I’m not too worried about that.”
She grinned, winding both arms around his neck. “Prove it, Major.”
USA Today
bestselling author Rebecca Zanetti has worked as an art curator, Senate aide, lawyer, college professor, and hearing examiner—only to culminate it all in stories about alpha males and the women who claim them. She is a member of RWA, has won awards for her works throughout the industry, and has a journalism degree with a poly sci emphasis from Pepperdine University as well as a juris doctorate from the University of Idaho.
Growing up amid the glorious backdrops and winter wonderlands of the Pacific Northwest has given Rebecca fantastic scenery and adventures to weave into her stories. She resides in the wild north with her husband, children, and extended family, who inspire her every day—or at the very least give her plenty of characters to write about.
Learn more at:
www.RebeccaZanetti.com
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Rebecca Zanetti’s thrilling, sexy series continues!
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Chapter 1
Stab wounds hurt worse than bullet wounds.
Sitting on asphalt in the dark, Matt Dean leaned against the worn brick building and scanned the vacant alley. Garbage cans lined the doorways of the now-closed businesses. The place smelled like honeysuckle.
What kind of an alley smelled like honeysuckle?
He’d been stabbed two days ago, and the staples he’d used had all but fallen out. But he’d had to get as far away as possible from what must now be a bloody crime scene.
Two of the men who’d jumped him would never jump, must less breathe, again. The other two might wish for death when they awoke. How the hell had they found him?
His phone had been damaged in the fight, and he’d had no choice but to continue on his mission, hop on his bike, and ride three states over. Out of their reach.
Time to break into one of the businesses and call his brothers.
He shrugged off his leather jacket and glanced at his destroyed shirt.
A door opened several yards down. He stiffened, reaching for the knife in his boot. At 3 a.m., nobody should be in the alley.
“Eugene?” a female voice whispered.
That tone shivered right down his spine. Sexy and frustrated, the tenor promised heated nights. He’d always had a thing for a woman’s husky voice.
So he turned his head.
She stood in the moonlight in a compact yoga outfit, her mahogany hair up in one of those clips. Damn, he’d love to let that mass fly.
Maybe blood loss was getting to him.
“Eugene?” the woman called again, holding the door open with her hip. “Your walk should be finished by now, and enough is enough. Your moodiness is getting to me.”
Who the hell was Eugene? It was just a matter of seconds before the woman noticed Matt, and he didn’t have the energy to fight the mysterious Eugene.
She gasped when she saw him.
Great. Now she’d run inside and call the police.
Except she didn’t.
The woman rushed toward him, dropping to her knees. “Oh my God. You’re hurt.” She swallowed several times and levered away. Her eyes were the color of an emerald he’d stolen from a Colombian drug lord years ago while on a mission. “I’ll call an ambulance.”
He grabbed her arm, careful not to break the delicate bones. “I’m fine.” Pressing his other palm against the brick, he shoved himself up and helped her along. “Though I could use an aspirin.”
She stilled and then looked up, way up, toward his face. “Um—”
He tried to smile. “I won’t hurt you.” Yeah, right. He was at least a foot taller and a hundred pounds heavier than her, found bleeding in her alley. All he needed was duct tape and a ski mask to be a bigger threat to somebody so small.
“Right.” She swallowed and shook her arm free. “You’re harmless. Anybody could see that.” She stepped back.
He grinned. Damn, she was cute. He tilted his head toward his motorcycle. “I’ll just get on and leave you alone. Sorry to scare you.”
She frowned and rubbed her forehead as she eyed the bike. “Did you fall?”