The Billionaire's Dare (Book 4 - Billionaire Bodyguard Series) (19 page)

Six men filed in, of similar height and build as him and his brother—no small feat considering the Soren’s Viking ancestry—and made a V formation around Liam. “Bro, meet the guys. They dropped everything and signed on to save your sorry ass.”

Adam ruffled his brother’s dark blond hair. “Nice job. Didn’t know you had it in you.”

Liam knocked his hand away. “Dude, this ain’t my first rodeo.”

“I know.” Adam turned serious. “Thanks, man.”

Alert intelligence sparkled in Liam’s green-blue eyes. “You look like hell. Care to fill us in?”

“I’ll pull some tables together,” Bones offered, already combining several two-top tables, then arranging eight chairs around the perimeter.

Adam nodded. “Good call, Bones.”

“A command center in a bar. I like the way you roll.” The man wearing reflective aviator shades, a sleeveless camouflage shirt, and tan cargo pants walked up and introduced himself. “Cam Anders.” He shook Adam’s hand with a solid grip. “Slone sent me to meet the jet at the Phoenix airport.”

“The Navy Seal pal he told me about?”

“One and the same.”

“Great. We could use your field experience. And your respect for secrecy.”

“I’m in good company.” Cam motioned to the rest of the guys to gather around, assuming a natural leadership role. “Liam put together a dream team. All former military, Special Ops.”

“I remember.”

Hundreds of résumés crossed Adam’s desk every month. During the past six, he’d focused on hiring the best of the best, looking to create a core team of special agents he and Liam wanted for a future task force. The force would be dedicated to elite rescue missions and high-profile clients needing personal security at a moment’s notice. The best came at a price, an added service he and Liam planned to present to Trey and Cade before their company’s security conference.

While Adam sucked at remembering names, he never forgot a face. He and Slone and interviewed each of these men and found their credentials staggering. “Talk about an elite team,” he said, looking at each of them, revealing his awe. “I’d be lucky to have one of you on my side. All five, plus Cam?
We could take down six biker gangs.”

The men’s hard-edged faces revealed pride at their selected status.

“Did you bring ammo?” he asked Liam.

His brother hooked his thumb over his shoulder. “A duffel bag stuffed full is in the back of the Hummer we rented.”

“I brought some pieces from my own collection,” Cam stated.

“Perfect.” Adam dipped his chin. “Not saying we’ll use them, but it’s good to have access if needed. Should we get down to business?”

“Ready when you are, boss,” Cam replied.

Every one of them grabbed a chair and turned it around in unison, straddling the back. Adam almost grinned. Yeah, these were his kind of guys.

“Here’s the situation…”

By the time Adam finished filling them in on events since his arrival in town with Marissa, up to Butcher’s threats after the auction, they’d sent off two members of the team. One man—Jeremy Jones, or J.J. as the team called him—took Adam’s truck to Tate’s to guard the house. The second, Ty Riker, drove to the motel in Bones’s car to guard Marissa.

Adam, Liam, Cam, and the remaining three bodyguards spent the next forty-five minutes tossing out strategy scenarios for how to run Butcher out of town. And keep him out for good.

“May I offer a suggestion?” Greenberg said from the sidelines.

“Who’s this?” Cam questioned, appropriately wary.

“He knows the situation. He’s Tate’s lawyer.” Adam angled his chin at Greenberg. “What are your thoughts?”

Greenberg never got the chance to tell them.

The shutter doors banged against the walls. Adam and his bodyguards shoved to their feet.

In flew a wild-eyed woman—Brittany, Adam recognized.

Bones dropped a shot glass. It shattered as he raced from behind the bar to Brittany. “She’s on our side,” he defended, his dark eyes flashing, daring the team to cross him.

“She’s legit,” Adam confirmed.

Brittany looked like she’d run a 5k on the worst day of her life. Mascara ran in dark trails down her dust-caked cheeks. Her windblown hair plastered to her forehead in clumps. Her pale lips trembled.

She gasped for breath and stared at Adam. “They took her.”

Adam froze. His heart dropped to the floor, bounced back up and lodged in his throat.

“Who?” Bones pressed.

“Mar—his girl.” She pointed at Adam, who was amazed the woman had the presence of mind to keep Marissa’s cover intact. “I was at—driving past Tate’s house. Butcher and his gang took them.”

Adam forced a calm he didn’t feel. “When?”

“Less than ten minutes ago. And the new guy, too, big and muscled. He looked like you all.” She gestured at the bodyguard team. “Butcher and his crew dragged them both into a gray truck and drove away. I don’t know where they went.” Brittany dissolved into sobs. “I came here as soon as I could.”

Adam’s mind raced. “Liam, take the Humvee and three of our guys. Sweep the streets, bounty hunter style. Look for any sign of Butcher’s gang. Stop every motorcycle you see. Use the weapons as scare tactics. Someone knows something. Find them, and make them talk. Whatever it takes.”

“You got it, bro.”

The four raced out the door, jumped in the Hummer, and kicked up stones as they peeled out of the bar parking lot.

He turned to Cam. “I want to keep Riker at the motel. Make that a safe zone.”

Cam reached for the phone in his pocket. “On it.”

“What are we going to do?” Brittany wailed from Bones’s arms.

“Much as I hate it,” Adam said, disgust spiraling through his veins, “I have to stay put. Butcher might use Marissa and J.J. as leverage to get the deed to the house. He knows I’m here at the bar. This is where he’ll direct his threats at me.”

“Smart,” Greenberg said behind him.

Adam whirled to the man, his muscles locked with tension. “Get the deed ready to put in Butcher’s name.”

Greenberg nodded.

Adam took Brittany’s arm and led her to a darkened corner of the bar. He attempted to contain his anger. “What the hell were you and Marissa doing at the house?”

“Digging.” She gulped short, sporadic breaths. “I know why Butcher wants the property. They buried Rachel’s body in Tate’s yard. That’s what the gang held over Tate’s head.”

Confused, Adam glared. “Who’s Rachel?”

“The girl.” Brittany’s voice came out a shrill whisper. “The one Ames Gray murdered. The reason Maria testified against them, and why she had to leave town.”

Suddenly all the missing pieces of Marissa’s story clicked into place.

Adam’s head cleared. He knew what needed to happen, though it would change his future with Marissa forever. Her safety meant everything to him—even if it meant losing her in a different way. “She’s in witness protection, right?”

Brittany offered a jerky nod of confirmation.

“Then this just became a federal crime.” He paced, knowing once he made this decision there was no going back. “We need to contact the FBI,” he told Greenberg, reeling
the lawyer into the conversation. “Tell them a federal witness has been kidnapped.”

Greenberg looked as torn as Adam felt. “You know what this means for her. For both of you.”

Adam lowered his head, a grave acknowledgement of the inevitable. But he didn’t have time to let the full repercussions sink in.

“Wh-what about the marshal?” Brittany interrupted. “He’s her contact. He’d know what to do. And I can tell him about the body in Tate’s yard, that Gray and Butcher put Rachel there. He’ll remember me. He’ll believe me.”

“How do I get in touch with him?” Adam asked.

“I’m not sure. I don’t know—”

“I do.” Greenberg raced to his briefcase, retrieved a file folder, and quickly flipped through pages. “Tate left me all necessary contact information. In the event of something like this.”

“Damn.” Adam marveled. “Tate really knew what he was up against.”

“Wish I had known,” Greenberg muttered.

Adam blew out an impatient breath. “Me, too.”

Greenberg held up a contacts sheet. “Found it.”

When Adam reached out, Greenberg retracted the document. “Better let me do the talking. Keep you out of this as much as possible.”

Adam closed his eyes a moment, dragged his hands through his hair. Then he relented. “Fine. Make the call.”

While he despised giving up control, he knew Greenberg was trying to protect him and Marissa. And their relationship.

What was it called? Plausible deniability?

Something like that.

Didn’t matter.

Nothing mattered except holding Marissa again, knowing she was safe. Even if it was the last time he’d ever hold her, before she disappeared back into the system. And took his heart with her into obscurity.

“Need me for anything, boss?” Cam’s gaze filled with unquestioning loyalty.

“Hang tight. Be ready for Butcher’s ransom demand.” Adam clenched his fists, glared out the clouded windows of the bar. “This could get complicated—and ugly—fast.”

Terror dragged its sadistic claws across every nerve.

Blindfolded and gagged, rope biting into her wrists where it tied her to a row of bars, Marissa shook uncontrollably.

From the next room, she struggled to hear Butcher’s words, his voice a series of shouts. Punctuated by the sounds of fists hitting flesh.
Bones breaking. No doubt she was next.

After the gang had shoved their hostages into a grimy building, the crewmembers then separated her from the man who’d shown up to protect her.

The past hour flashed like jagged reflections in her mind. No sooner had the bodyguard walked onto her grandfather’s property and introduced himself, Butcher and his gang had appeared out of nowhere.

She and Brittany had dropped their gear and ran toward the house. The bodyguard had fought them off until someone pulled a Taser on him. He’d dropped to the ground like a hunk of granite, spasming violently, face contorted with pain. Marissa had turned to glimpse the horrible scene when two henchmen caught her arms, slapped duct tape over her mouth, and heaved her and the limp bodyguard into a truck. One of the jerks had ripped off a piece of his t-shirt and tied it around her face, so tight it hurt to blink even with her eyes shut. She didn’t know why they’d bothered, since she recognized exactly where they were—the abandoned prison on the edge of town.

Then again, she reminded herself, for all they knew she was just Adam’s girlfriend, a pawn, not the reason their former leader was incarcerated. She prayed it stayed that way.

She choked on the irony. Here she sat in a similar facility where she’d sent Ames Gray. Fortunately, Gray’s maximum security residence was fully operational. Unlike this crumbling old building, slouched and slanting at the edge of a hillside about to topple
into the valley.

A pain-filled grunt reached her ears through the walls. She winced, worried sick about the bodyguard. Would Butcher kill him? Just to make a point?

Nose clogged with dust, she struggled for each breath. Growing weaker by the minute.

No matter what happened, she drew comfort from having located the body. Following the metal detector’s alert, she and Brittany had begun digging at the rear of the property. The tip of the shovel had glanced off something hard with a
ting.
Brittany had leaned down, dusted off a layer of dirt, and uncovered the big turquoise necklace Rachel had worn the night she died.

“We found her.”
The emotional relief in Brittany’s voice had been cut short by the bodyguard’s arrival. And then Butcher’s…

At least we have our proof.
The knowledge offered her a ray of hope in her dark circumstances. She prayed Brittany had made it to the bar to tell Adam. They could take the issue to the proper authorities. A former bounty hunter had to have impressive connections, right? Authorities who handled the discovery of dead bodies and went after killers?

The sound of a skull hitting cement sent a sharp chill up her spine. An innocent man, someone she’d never met, had tried to protect her. And he was enduring unimaginable pain for his trouble.

When had Adam called for reinforcements? she wondered. He must’ve sensed the threat sizzling in the air at the time of the auction.

Engulfed in misery, her body aching from fresh bruises, she couldn’t believe how many people were in danger now. Because of her. She should’ve never come back. Should’ve let it go, the way Marshal Sharp had instructed. Instead, she’d defied his orders. And more people close to her would pay the price.

Tears drenched the nasty-smelling cloth covering her eyes.

I’m sorry. I am so sorry.

But her silent apologies offered no consolation to the bodyguard Butcher was using as a punching bag in the next room.

As her breaths became shallower and shallower, she sagged against the bars, what remained of her spirit fighting to stay strong. To make it through this. If necessary, she’d testify against Butcher and the gang all over again.

Assuming they let her live that long…

*

Contacting the marshal had paid off.

While Adam paced a dent in the barroom floor, Marshal Sharp was assembling an FBI team with special equipment capable of locating the buried remains in Tate’s yard.

The marshal was flying in himself, from an undisclosed location, along with hand-picked field officers plus a hostage negotiator. According to the marshal, ETA was three-o’clock. Fifty nine agonizing minutes from now.

Adam could only hope Marissa held on that long, and so did his bodyguard. He ran a hand down his face. Damn it. He despised waiting.

The sound of tires crunching gravel in the parking lot made his head snap up. He dashed to the window.

Through the cloudy glass, he watched in horror as the passenger door of a gray pickup truck opened. They dumped a body and sped away.

“We have our message,” he yelled.

Distantly he heard Cam’s footsteps pounding behind him as he rushed out the door. Seeing J.J. on the ground, battered and bleeding, Adam released a string of curses. He raced to the bodyguard’s side.

Within the cloud of orange dirt kicked up by the truck skidding out of the lot, he squinted and made out the red numbers on the license plate. Party plates.

Wait. Red Eye had said he drove a truck with party plates. No. No fucking way. Was his best informant on Butcher’s side?

“Help me get him inside,” he shouted to Cam.

The two of them coughed dust and hauled J.J. into the bar, leaving a trail of blood dripping behind them. Not good.

“Oh, my God!” Brittany squealed.

“Christ.” Bones motioned them to bring J.J. toward him. “Lay him on the pool table. I’ve got a first aid kit in the back.”

Adam and Cam hoisted J.J.’s broken form onto the pool table, turned makeshift gurney. “He’s in bad shape,” Cam muttered, using his hunting knife to cut off J.J.’s shirt, with the least amount of impact, to assess the damages.

“Hold up.” Adam withdrew from J.J.’s front pocket a yellow piece of paper. One that could’ve been torn from a legal pad. “He came with a note.”

Cam clicked his knife shut.

Trying not to notice the similarities between Greenberg’s notepad and the paper the ransom was written on, he read it out loud. A first for him.

“Come to…the…p-prison…um.” He exhaled frustration, clutching the torn page, determined to read the damn thing. “At the…edge of…town. No cops. I get Tate’s. You get the girl.”

“Then we go,” Cam said.

“Yeah, but I need a sec.” Adam spun to face Bones, Brittany and Greenberg clustered at the table. He stormed up to them. “Did you plan this?” she shouted.

Three pairs of eyes lifted to him, offering various degrees of shock and confusion. He found the words hard to organize in his brain, pissing him off even more. But his fists were ready. “Do you take me for an idiot?”

Bones stood, offering the first line of defense. “What are you talking about?”

Greenberg stood, too. “My friend, we’re all on the same side.”

“Are we?” His chest heaved. He slammed the random note on the table. “This was written on paper just like your notepad. And Brittany went to the motel and told Marissa to stay for the auction. Then I see Red Eye’s truck pulling away after dumping J.J.’s body?”

“I just called the doctor,” Brittany whispered, looking terrified of him. “He’s on his way to help J.J. I made him promise, no questions asked.”

“
I’m
asking.” Adam skewered them with a lethal glare. “What do you know?”

“Okay, let’s take a break.” Cam came up behind him, hooked his hands under Adam’s armpits and hauled him back.

The red haze returned. He barely saw Cam. He wanted answers. He wanted to fight. He wanted blood on his hands other than J.J.’s.

“You’re not going to help your girl by turning on the people who’re helping
you,
” Cam said in firm voice.

Adam flung his hand toward the window. “Did you not just see our guy thrown from a moving truck? A truck that belongs to a man I trusted in this town?”

“I was there.” Cam nodded calmly, though Adam saw steel in his eyes. “What happened to J.J. is disturbing. I don’t know the guy you’re talking about, but he ain’t here.” Cam physically turned Adam toward the table of allies. “They are. They have your back. I have your back. Can you take a breath and think straight long enough to get your shit together? Because I need you on my level when we go get your girl.”

Wild fury mingled with helpless frustration. He gripped Cam’s shoulders. “We have to find Marissa.”

“We will. You and me, we’ll make it happen.”

Channeling his furious suspicion into a coiled rage deep down, he nodded. “Let’s go.”

Greenberg came up to them. “What about the marshal and the hostage negotiator—”

Cam held up his hand. “We’ve got this.” He grasped Adam’s shoulder. “I have ammo in my SUV. You and I will meet Butcher on his turf. You have the deed to the property?”

Greenberg shoved a piece of paper into Adam’s hand. “He has it.”

Cam nodded to the group. “We’ll see you on the flipside.”

Boiling with
resentment, searching for an outlet, he felt Cam angle him toward his SUV and shove him into the passenger seat. Adam’s reason slowly returned to sharp clarity as Cam drove through the streets at a quick clip, doubling the speed limit.

Adam set his elbow on the window casing, pressing his thumb to his forehead. “Thanks for handling me back there.”

“Got your back, boss.” He nodded in sympathy. “If I cared that much about a woman, I might’ve done worse.”

“Yeah.” Adam huffed. “You never know what you’re capable of until…”

“I get it, man.”

Unable to find the right words, he gave a tight nod. “Thanks.”

“So, we’re going to some prison? What’s that about?”

“You probably passed it on the road into town. Not much more than a heap of rubble with a few bars left on the windows. When I first got here with Marissa, I didn’t see it for what it was—the perfect hideout for a gang.”

“I brought a sniper rifle with me. Might come in handy,” Cam offered.

“It might. Butcher isn’t the type to put more than a couple guys on the lookout. He’ll know we’re coming regardless. The pack mentality is strong, though I thinned the herd yesterday, taking two of them down. Butcher likes an audience. He’ll keep his guys close, to watch him perform during the ransom exchange.”

Arching an eyebrow, Cam nodded. “Good insight. You ex-military?”

“Ex-bounty hunter.”

“Close enough,” Cam stated. “Maybe better, for our situation. Can you keep your head and reel him in, barter with him until I set up the rifle on the second story?”

“I’ll do whatever it takes.” All he could think about was Marissa, scared, battered, shaking—but alive, as long as he stayed level and let his partner help him get her free. “I do my best work under pressure.”

“I hear you.” Cam pulled off before they reached the prison, parking his SUV along the edge of the steep ridge. “Damn, this place could go crashing into the valley with a strong breeze.”

“Don’t care, as long as she’s not in it when it does.”

“You have what they want, and as of now they don’t know about me.” Cam swiftly assembled his rifle like an expert. “Stay focused on that.”

“I know what I have to do,” Adam growled. “Just find a way up to the second story and fix your rifle scope on Butcher. If he goes down, they’ll flee. You have my permission to shoot, if it comes to that. I won’t take any chances with her life.”

“Understood.”

They parted ways from there. Trusting his partner the way he’d trusted his brother and cousins when they went after a skip, Adam stalked toward the front of the crumbling prison, deed in hand. He waved it at the busted-out windows on the first floor where Butcher had staged two of his stooges. Then he realized the front door was inaccessible, and went around the side to find another way in.

All eyes on me, boys.

If the showdown went down badly and he didn’t walk away from this, he believed Cam would handle the aftermath, and get Marissa to safety. His second in command at the office, Slone, deserved a raise for sending Cam. And if Adam found his way out of here alive, Cam would be the next guy on his payroll.

As he walked through the recently pried open, half-hinged door at the side of the building, he knew what scared him the most. He’d snare their attention any way possible, but God forbid they stopped long enough to recognize who Marissa really was…Adam would no longer be enemy number one. They’d all turn on her.

Shuddering at the thought, he shoved the possibility out of his mind.

Focus on me.
He silently willed the gang to divert their wrath from Maris
sa to him.

Damn good at improvisation, he knew this role by heart, and believed the bullshit he excelled at would come naturally, as usual. Though he’d never had so much at stake.