Two To Go: Bayou Heat (Pantera Security League Book 2) (6 page)

It was staggering to imagine a future where they were free.

Or shit, himself.

But if it was possible…

With supreme effort, he squashed the urge to grab Elyon, look into her eyes, hard and desperate, then maybe kiss her in relief if he saw what he needed to see. Instead, he prayed he wasn’t walking into a trap, and carefully considered the best way to share what little information he had.

His gaze skimmed the room, landing on the electronic equipment that was set up in the corner. Victor made additional money on the fights by streaming them to paying customers.

“Let’s watch some TV,” he said.

She sent him a startled glance. “What?”

He gave her a slow smile. “Come with me.”

Elyon absently followed behind Max, assuming that he had a plan. The majority of her brain was focused on his refusal to leave until he knew his parents were safe.

On one level she understood loyalty.

She would do anything for Raphael and the other members of The Six. But the fact that she’d been raised with no true family meant she struggled to fully comprehend the complexities of that dynamic. That bond.

Early on, guilt had been a constant knife in her gut. After all, if she had been a good female, a decent female, she would’ve gone looking for her mother and father as soon as she’d returned. Asked them questions, listened to their answers. Maybe forgiven them for not being the ones who’d found her. Or, if what she’d believed turned out to be true, for not searching for her every day that she’d been missing.

But things were different now. She rarely thought about them. She was…fine, good on her own. Great even. No burdens, no collateral damage if shit went south.

Max, however, had gone above and beyond. He’d remained imprisoned, been tortured and used, followed every order and demand, to keep his parents safe. He was clearly capable of true loyalty and deep love.

The thought made her feel a strange sort of longing.

“Here we go,” Max said, pulling her from her thoughts.

He stood next to a long panel and was already flipping on switches. When he was done, he pulled out a phone from the pocket of his shorts and pressed his finger against the screen. A few swipes later he had a video pulled up and was syncing it to the gym’s monitor, which was set at the end of the long table.

“I’ll put on my last fight,” he said in absent tones, still sliding his thumb over the screen of his phone. “That should keep the guards from wondering what we’re doing.”

Elyon wasn’t sure what he was talking about, but before she could ask, the monitor flickered to life and the image of Max filled the screen. He was standing in the nearby cage, dressed like he was now, in a pair of loose shorts with his chest bare to reveal his stunning tattoos. A few feet away from him was a behemoth of a man. Six foot seven at least, with ropy muscles and a thick coating of hair over his body that made him look like a gorilla.

“Christ on a cracker,” she breathed. “Where did they find your opponent?”

“Fresh meat from Siberia,” Max said, not bothering to glance up. “He had an iron jaw, but one punch to the gut and he went down like a sack of potatoes.” He crooked a finger at her. “Look at this.”

Pressing close to his side, Elyon pretended to be watching the match on the monitor even as she covertly glanced toward his phone.

She could see an elderly couple with silver hair and the lined faces of people who’d lived through hardship. They were standing close together, their arms wrapped around each other as they stared at the camera with resigned expressions.

“Those are your parents?” she asked.

“Yes. Peter and Catherine Kudrow,” he said, waving a hand toward the monitor as if they were discussing his fight. “I demand a picture to prove they’re still alive at least once a week.”

Elyon nodded. Smart of him to get proof of life. It made sure the enemy couldn’t lie.

She turned her attention from the couple who had a faint resemblance to Max and instead studied what little she could see behind them.

“When did you get this one?” she asked.

“Just a couple hours ago.”

She felt a flare of hope. “So there’s a good chance they’re still there?”

“That would be my guess,” he agreed. “Usually they only move them once a month or so. They’ve been at this location less than a week.”

“Good.” She narrowed her gaze, staring at a blurry spot in the background. “Can you zoom in on the window behind your mother?”

“Yeah.” Using his fingers, he enlarged the window to reveal the glowing sign of a restaurant that was next door.

“Abel’s Po-Boys,” she read out loud.

He glanced toward her, a wary hope in his eyes. “Do you know where it is?”

“Nope. But I can have someone find it.” She pulled out her phone and typed out a swift message. Once she hit send, she put the phone back in her pocket and glanced at her companion with blatant impatience. “Now can we go?”

He stared at her, trying to read her. When she said no more, he put his phone away and folded his arms over his chest.

She sighed. “I’m thinking that’s a no.”

“Not until I’m sure they’re safe,” he said, his tone warning he wasn’t going to argue. He wasn’t budging until his parents were released.

Again she was fascinated by his fierce loyalty.

“You’d sacrifice your own freedom for them?” she asked in hesitant tones. “Even now?”

“Without hesitation.”

She offered a slow nod.

He stared at her, curious. “Have you never loved, Elyon?”

The answer came, swift and unapologetic. “No.”

“Not even your family?”

“I have none.”

For a moment, his eyes remained on hers. They were deep amber and probing. “Well, I hope that changes. I hope you know love some day. It can chew you up and spit you out, for sure, but it’s worth it in the end.” His mouth softened. “My family is worth it. They’re worth everything.”

Elyon’s heart swelled inside her chest at his words. She might not fully understand this love he spoke of, or his dedication to his parents, but she admired him with an intensity that was unnerving.

This was a male of worth.

Even if he hadn’t been born Pantera.

He was—dare she even think it?—mate material.

Not that she was looking or wanting.

Job to do, Ely.
“We have Hunters spread around New Orleans, but it could take an hour, maybe more, to rescue them,” she warned, forcing a professional tone. With the current troubles plaguing her people, they’d pulled most of the Pantera back to the Wildlands. But there were always a few left in larger cities to keep track of what was happening among the humans. “It all depends on how well guarded they are.”

He gave a jerky nod, his muscles rigid. Elyon sensed that he was battling to keep his emotions in check.

“It might be better if you leave and come back after my parents have been freed,” he abruptly announced. “
If
they’re freed.”

What was he doing? Elyon scowled, glaring at him in disbelief. She’d traveled across the country to rescue him. Ensured that his parents would be taken away from their prison. And now he wanted her to leave?

First of all, she never left without an asset.

And secondly, she didn’t want to. She was sort of enjoying being around him, looking at him, hearing him talk about his family.

And then there was that kiss…

She paused. Maybe that was it. Why he wanted her to leave. After all, that kiss started as a way to shut her up. When the two idiots came in. Could it be that he didn’t feel any of the instinctive urges to mate that were thundering through her?

Could he be completely turned off by her lack-of-love admission? Think she was cold?

Wouldn’t he be right?

She lifted her chin. “Trying to get rid of me?”

His lips thinned, his expression hardening as he glanced at the old-fashioned dial clock on the wall.

“No, but Victor and his goons will be coming up here to prepare for tonight’s matches,” he said. “I don’t like the thought of them bothering you.” His jaw tightened and his eyes flashed as he turned back to face her. “You’ve been bothered enough for one day.”

Her brows drifted up.
Oh.
He was…worried about her then? Well that was interesting. And better. Much better than what she’d cooked up in her head.

“You know I can take care of myself,” she said with a hint of sass.

He moved in closer to her, his eyes darkening. “You’ve already proven that,” he assured her. “But it doesn’t change my desire…to protect you. Keep leering eyes off you.”

An odd sensation clenched her heart. It didn’t hurt exactly, but it made her a little breathless. She wished he’d take her hand or something. Maybe pull her in close, let her rub up against him, nuzzle his neck.

She licked her lips. His gaze was overpowering, magnetic, as he stared down at her. And his heat was searing her, drowning her in his male musk. Were these the leering eyes he was talking about? If so, she liked them. A lot. Wanted them on her. All night and day.

She lowered her voice. “You really want me to go, Max?”

He cocked his head, nostrils flaring as if trying to scent her. And when he did, when he pulled her into his lungs and exhaled, a soft, dangerous growl escaped his throat.

She smiled with satisfaction. “Do you live in the building?”

He nodded.

“Where?”

“Upstairs.”

Her skin tingled with anticipation. “Are there cameras?”

He leaned in and whispered in her ear. “No.”

She shivered.

“I told them I’d kill them if I discovered they were spying on my few hours of privacy.” He eased back slowly, brushing his cheek against hers. “They were smart enough to know I wasn’t bluffing.”

“Well, I can wait there.” Her lips twitched, and she bit the lower one.

His gaze dropped to her mouth. “Victor’s going to wonder why you would want to go to my private rooms.”

“Not if you come with me.” A wicked smile curved her lips as she laid her palms flat against his chest and shoved him back against the wall. “Then he’ll know exactly why I’m up there.”

Max didn’t touch her, but every inch of him was rigid with tension as he stared down at her, his musk permeating the air. Like he was holding on by a thread.

“Or,” she whispered close to his mouth, “I can wait outside. Or maybe down in the restaurant. Have a bowl of borscht with those two idiots I bloodied. It’d be the right thing—”

His arms came around her so fast she gasped. But the sound quickly turned to sensual laughter as he lifted her up, tossed her over his massive shoulder, and started toward the stairs.

Mine.

Mine, mine, mine.

It was like an anthem in his mind. The theme from “Rocky.”

He felt like a fucking caveman taking her upstairs.

Or a Pantera male.

It was strange. Ever since she walked in, ever since his eyes touched down on her…everything, he was like a different man. Something volatile and hopeful. For years… No,
forever
, no one had come looking for him. No one had wanted to help him. No one had given two shits about him. And truly he’d gotten used it, and to the idea that the only road out of this nightmare was the one he traveled alone.

But…wow… Now she was here.

This creature of his dreams.

Rolling in like a beautiful, explosive storm, claiming she was a shifter, a liberator. Claiming she could fix his lifelong problems with one simple text. Claiming, with her eyes, her hands and her mouth that she wanted to consume him.

And to that, all Max could manage was one word.

Mine.

At the top of the stairs, he kicked open the door to his apartment with his foot. And once inside, kicked it shut.

“You going to put me down now, male?” she said, her voice teasing and warm.

He didn’t answer. His body was too worked up. Already. And his mind…Well, shit was going on in there too. Questions, demands.

Stopping at the foot of the bed, he swung her off his shoulder and deposited her on the gray comforter. He was over her in seconds. His gaze pinned to hers.

“How do I know you’re not full of shit?” he asked, hunger raging inside of him. “How do I know you’re not a spy or a plant or a mole or just another way Benson’s fucking with me?”

She stared up at him with those amazing dark blue eyes, breathing easy, utterly unafraid. “You don’t.”

Her confidence irritated him as much as it turned him on. “Why do the Pantera want me?”

“I don’t know.”

He shook his head. “That’s a lie.”

“I don’t lie.” She lifted her chin, trying to get closer to him, maybe get a taste, a kiss.

And fuck he wanted to give it to her.

“You’re making this complicated,” she pointed out. “It’s very, very simple.”

His dick was so hard now it felt like skin wrapped too tightly around liquid steel. It wanted her. Inside. Deep.

“My kind, whether you choose to believe it or not,” she continued, “are good and honorable. That’s what I know.
That
I believe with everything in my guts.” She studied his face, her eyes probing him. “Max, I’m just trying to get you out of here, out of this life. Trying to get your parents free. It’s not a trick, or veiled in anything—and I know that’s hard to believe after what you’ve been through.”

His jaw worked. Goddamn her for talking like this. So real. Believe it or don’t. Take it or leave it.

He wanted to take it. Take her. Over and over.

She cocked her head just slightly. “But it’s up to you. I think I’ve been pretty clear. About everything.”

He didn’t allow her one more word. His mouth was on her in seconds. Kissing her with all the heat and hunger and worry and anger and appreciation and hope that raged inside of him. That had lived inside of him for far too long. He gave it all to her. He gave it away. And she accepted it. With every lashing of his tongue, every bite to his lips, every deep, groan-filled kiss, she released it for him.