Hell or High Water (3 page)

“Hurry up.” A voice came from inside the van. “Somebody’s coming.”

Thank God. Somebody responded to her cry for help. She turned her head toward the sound of an engine. Kay’s eyes almost popped out. A motorcycle barreled straight at her. This maniac was going to kill them all.
 

Even at the high rate of speed, the rider expertly laid the bike down on its side. He stepped off with precise timing, never losing his footing. Sparks shot through the air as the out-of-control hunk of metal slid across the pavement. Dressed in black, wearing a black helmet with darkened visor shielding his face, he sprinted toward the van.
 

The stranger’s arrival turned her attacker’s attention away from her. Air gushed from Kay’s lungs as the tension on her arms relaxed.
 

“Run,” the motorcyclist growled, shoving her out of his way. She stumbled forward almost falling facedown onto the pavement again.
 

His right foot lashed out and connected with one of her attackers’ kneecaps. The snap of breaking bone echoed like a shotgun blast. Fists, feet, and elbows moved at mesmerizing speeds. Ski Mask Jerk number one hit the cement, moaning. Holy shit, a ninja had dropped out of the sky to rescue her. Kay’s jaw dropped at the display of raw power.
 

“Run, Goddamn it.” Her rescuer’s growl had turned into a roar.

His attention had been on her attackers—how did he know she hadn’t run? Didn’t matter. He was right. Kay bolted toward the front of the building. Heaving, gasping for air, she ran into the lobby. The girl at the front desk called out that she had 911 on the phone.

“The operator says cops are on the way.”
 

Kay knew the drill. She should stay put until the squad car showed up. But how could she leave the stranger behind? What if her attackers overpowered him? If he’d been killed, she’d be responsible for another death.
 

The sounds of sirens in the distance were enough to give her the confidence to run back outside to check on her savior.

Gone? How could that be? The men, the van, and the ninja were gone.

She had nothing to validate her story except her skinned knees and the scars on the pavement where the motorcycle had dug grooves during its slide.
 

Through all that had happened, one thing stayed at the top of her mind. Holly was missing.
 

 
Chapter 3

Nate Wolfe leaned against a cement pillar, his gaze never straying from Kaycie and the cops taking down her information. The third floor of the garage across from the morgue offered a clear view and allowed Nate to stay out of sight.
 

His mind raced over the events in the parking lot. Christ, what if he’d arrived five minutes later?

The sight of the two assholes dragging Kaycie toward the van had sent him straight to combat mode. Damn, he’d wanted to kill both of those bastards.

He spit the iron taste of blood from his mouth. One of the first lessons he’d learned in hand-to-hand combat was to eliminate the threat, never allow the dickheads to escape. Glancing away to ensure Kaycie had run as he’d instructed had allowed one of the assholes to clock him from behind. Stupid new recruit mistake. Distractions could get him killed.
 

A gust of wind ruffled Kaycie’s disheveled, chocolate-brown hair. Whatever hairdo she’d set out with was long gone, which was understandable since she’d been knocked to the ground and then dragged a few feet. He watched as she no doubt described the attempted abduction to the law. That she couldn’t talk without making elaborate gestures brought a smile to his face and a stirring down deep he refused to recognize.
 

He twisted the Saint Jude medallion hanging under his shirt then jerked his hand back as if burned. He should’ve taken it off years ago. The small charm, which never left his person, warmed against his skin, reminding him of an earlier time. An innocent time when youth, love and sex were plentiful.
 

From what he could see, the pretty twenty-two-year-old criminal justice student had matured into a beautiful woman in the last decade.
 

She’d made her opinion of him and his choices perfectly clear when they’d parted company. Still, the sun reflecting off her hair brought back images of long, silky, chocolate-colored waves spread across a white pillowcase, and her cinnamon-flecked brown eyes darkening to black when she climaxed.
 

He needed his head examined for agreeing to get this near her. Now he was in it for real. No fucking way would he step back and let harm come to her. Even if she hated him. Which in all likelihood, she did.

Nate whirled at the sound of footsteps.
 

“A mite jumpy, aren’t you, Bro?” Tyrell Castillo stroked a small patch of whiskers on his chin as he sauntered a circle around the banged-up Harley. He made a tsking noise and then plopped himself down on the ledge, effectively blocking Nate’s view.
 

“Paying attention has kept me alive.” Nate moved to the other side of the cement pillar where he could keep Kaycie in his line of view.
 

“No shit.” Tyrell nodded slightly. Having spent a few years in Iraq and Afghanistan, he would understand the importance of staying alert. “What’s the emergency?”
 

“How’d you know Kaycie needed protection?”
 

“Somebody snatched her Monday. She got away, but until the cops figure this shit out, I felt she needed a bodyguard.”

“You should’ve told me that when you called.” Nate ground out the words. Had he known about the previous attempt, he’d have glued himself to her ass and not watched from afar.
 

“I only had a second or I would have. Why?”

Nate watched Tyrell’s expression change when his gaze shifted and caught a glimpse of Kaycie in the parking lot across the street with the cops.

“What happened?”

“You want my help? Answer my questions first.”

“I’m telling you straight. She’s been working this case, supposed to be done with it, but they found the girl dead Monday. Kay was the last person to see the kid alive. Maybe an hour later Kay got snatched.”

“Who told you all this?””

“She did.”
 

Tyrell pointed at a small blonde who’d parked, and then launched herself like a rocket and ran toward Kaycie.
 

“Holly Hoffman.” Tyrell ran a hand over his smooth head. “What’s going on down there?”

“Finish your story.”

 
“Holly called me from the hospital, said Kay had been hurt. I stopped by, and she told me what happened.”

“Then you called me.”

“Right.” Tyrell stroked the small patch of hair under his bottom lip, craning his neck toward the cops talking with Kaycie. “I had a commitment and couldn’t tail her.”

“Go on.” Nate cocked his head. Waiting.
 

“Kay’s an investigator for Dallas Child Protective Services. Worked with DPD on this case—a seventeen-year-old girl who’d been kidnapped and raped. The kid had been sold and was in Virginia when she outsmarted the truck driver and escaped. No telling where he was taking her. She picked out the pervert who’d violated her from a photo array. Tagged the son of a prominent businessman.”
 

Nate’s stomach rolled over. “What’s the correlation between the dead girl and Kaycie being snatched?”

“I don’t know.”

“And the news keeps getting better.”

“Now that you’re back and have a PI license, you can have the job of protecting her.” Tyrell glanced down at the parking lot. “Kay’s the only one who knows the facts. What if the asshole doesn’t go to prison? Maybe she needs you.”

“That’s a big maybe.” Nate’s blood flash-heated to boiling. Had Kaycie gotten herself ass-deep in human trafficking and murder? If so, Tyrell was right. She could be in a world of shit. “So the girl was killed to shut her up?”

“Word is she slashed a wrist.”

“None of this makes any sense.” Nate paused. “One thing’s for sure, Kaycie has pissed off somebody bad enough to try to kidnap her twice.”
 

Tyrell blasted off the ledge. “Somebody tried to snatch her again?”

Tyrell had always claimed he was faster than a speeding bullet. Might be some truth to that since he’d made it through Iraq and Afghanistan without a scratch.

“Yeah. If I hadn’t been here, who knows where she’d be right now.”

“She all right?” Tyrell leaned further over the ledge trying to get a better look.

“She’s fine. The two bastards who put their hands on her have a couple of broken bones, but she’s okay. If I’d used my head, I could’ve hung onto them for the cops.” Nate rubbed the back of his neck, refusing to recognize the nagging headache.

Tyrell’s eyes went wide. “How’d you let them get away? Never mind.” He grinned, flashing white teeth and shrugging his shoulders. “She get a look at you?”

“Hell no. Been a lot easier to fight without the helmet, but I kept it on. You haven’t talked to her?”
 

Nate’s skin chilled even though the temperature had easily reached the century mark. He’d planned on inserting himself into her life at some point. This trouble pushed the schedule ahead.
 

“Gonna have to soon. Kay’s leaving me phone messages. Shit, man.” Tyrell’s eyebrows pinched. “How’d these bastards know she’d be at the morgue?”
 

“Good question. You understand protecting her just became a twenty-four-seven assignment.”
 

“Yeah.” Tyrell removed his buzzing cell and checked the caller ID. “It’s her, again.”

Nate moved closer to the ledge. She and the short blonde had headed for the car. Unprotected.
 

“Remember our agreement. She’ll learn I’m involved when I’m ready.”
 

Tyrell tilted his head forward and answered the call. The hair on the back of Nate’s neck tingled when Tyrell answered, calling Kaycie “Little Mama.”
 

Nate rolled the two words around on his tongue. A knot formed and wedged in the bottom of his gut. Tyrell and Kaycie? Together?

Nate balled his fists, choking back the urge to pounce on his old friend. Somewhere in the recesses of his brain, he overheard Tyrell say he’d meet her at the police station.

“Call me when you need me to take over.” Nate stalked to his Harley and threw a leg over. He coiled his hands around the handlebar controls. His fingers itched and bad things went down when that happened.
 

“Hold up a minute.” Tyrell’s hands formed the timeout sign. “Let’s discuss this. You’ve been back in Dallas six months. Grow some balls, you got to face her sooner or later.”

“I’ll take later.” Nate brushed aside that idea. No way would Kaycie welcome a reunion with him. “Get out of here. Without you, she’s vulnerable, unprotected.”
 

“She’s following the patrol car to the station. I’ll meet her there after she fills out her statement.”

Nate dug around in the saddlebags until he found something to write on and a pen. He had Tyrell give him the name and a brief background on the bastard who Kaycie believed killed the young girl.
 

Nate needed to think. To sort through everything he’d just heard. While he was at it, he’d rein in his out-of-control libido. He hadn’t expected such a strong physical reaction to her after all these years.

 
“Why don’t you let me set up a place for us to meet? Be good to have us back together again. All we need is Marcus and Jake.”
 

Tyrell’s voice trailed off at the mention of Jake Donovan, the fifth member of Wolfe’s Pack as Kaycie had dubbed them. The fact Jake had died in a fire while deployed in Afghanistan wasn’t a topic to discuss.
 

“No.”
 

“Seriously? Bro, you gotta come out of the shadows. Tell her you saved her life. You should’ve heard her on the phone. Christ. Going on about this badass ninja appearing out of nowhere and then vanishing.”
 

Nate started and revved up the engine to drown out Tyrell and his advice. The best tight end the University of Texas ever produced had turned down a professional career in football to join the Army. Maybe becoming a Ranger and wearing that tan beret made Tyrell think he could tell people what they should and shouldn’t do. Rangers didn’t tell SEALs shit.

“If you change your mind,” Tyrell yelled over the roar.

“Tell me what time I need to be at her place.”

 
“I’ll call you.” Tyrell’s expression hardened, his eyes full of concern. “She needs more than a shadow.”

“She has more. She has me.”
 

Chapter 4

Johnny Darling leaned back in his office chair and ran the blade of his new KA-BAR up his forearm. The razor-sharp edge shaved off a strip of hair, leaving behind smooth skin. The new knife was a beauty. Odd how the feel and weight of the big knife gave him a sense of being with an old friend.