Wolf (The Henchmen MC #3) (10 page)

There was the barest of pauses before his head gave me a jerky nod. "'Kay," he said and turned into the cabin.

"How long?" I asked Cash as we followed Wolf inside.

"Hours. I don't know. I was at Hailstorm trying to get their help in locating him before he found her again."

"Again?"

"That's why she was begging asylum at my place, kid. He got to her and he busted her up. Her face... her ribs... it was bad. He did a number. She went to The Henchmen. I just so happened to be there so I took her home. I took care of her. And then..."

There was something in his tone, something in the softness in his eyes. I wasn't exactly familiar with it, but I knew it when I saw it. He had feelings for Lo. Like... real feelings. I didn't think such a manwhore was capable, but if there ever was a woman who could intrigue him enough to tame his wild nature, it was Lo. "And then..." I prompted.

He sidestepped the question he knew I was really asking. "And then when I got home, my place was trashed. Her blood was on the walls. My neighbor gave me a make and plate of his truck. I called Malcolm and got him on it."

"They got nothing?" I asked, annoyed that they were proving so inept without me. I thought I had trained them well.

"Nothing useful. He said every other case is closed until you guys find her."

"Well... duh," I said, resisting the urge to roll my eyes. The rummaging Wolf had been doing quieted and I turned in his direction to see him moving toward me with a laptop box in his hands. Like... a factory-wrapped laptop. He had had a laptop in his closet the whole time. How the hell had I missed that? Why hadn't I asked if he had one before? He stopped in front of me, holding the box to a laptop that was already a good two years old and I felt a smile tease my lips. "You're ridiculous," I told him, taking the box from his hands.

The men moved away from me, going toward the kitchen and talking in somewhat hushed tones to, I imagine, exclude me from their conversation. Not that they needed to; I wasn't paying them any attention. I had a laptop to open and get running. Then I had the most important person in my world to find... before anything horrible happened to her. Though, a part of me knew that if she was in the hands of someone who used to beat her... well, horrible things were probably already happening. I used that knowledge to push me forward.

"Carpet store?" I called out as soon as I got online.

"Been there. Nothing," Cash supplied.

On a growl, I went back to work, their low, grumbling voices carrying on in the kitchen. "As much as I
love
to sit here listening to you two hens clucking like a couple chicks," I said, still tapping furiously as I spoke, "I am going to need some coffee and silence," I snapped at them, not caring if I was being a bitch.

Wolf made a grunting noise and I knew he was going to make the coffee. I flicked open a tab and put on internet radio, metal music blaring loud enough to drown out the endless stream of fears flying across my mind.

Cash moved over toward Wolf's recliner and sat down, anxious energy bouncing off of him. A part of me went out to him, knowing how helpless he felt, knowing that for a man of action to be forced to sit and wait and worry was the worst kind of torture. Especially when his woman was out there somewhere having god-knew what done to her. True, Lo was strong. But even strong women, when faced with something that once made them weak, could crumble.

Eventually, Cash slept. Wolf held silent vigil at the dining room table with me, refilling my coffee when it went empty, pretending to ignore my growling and cursing when I met dead end after dead end. Whoever Damian Crane was, aside from ex-military and wife-beater, he was air. He kept next to nothing on the books aside from that god damn abandoned carpet store he kept in town.

The longer I searched, the more that bothered me. Why would he have bought a store and not done something to renovate and reopen it? Why pay taxes on something useless? In the town where your formerly-battered ex-wife set up her business?

The answer was... he wouldn't. That carpet store meant something. Cash had said he had been there and there was nothing there. But I didn't buy that. No way. It had to mean something. Sometime around sunrise, I got into the city's website and after an annoying search, finally found the plans.

"What about the basement?" I shouted as I paused the song on the radio station.

"What?" Cash asked, bolting awake in the chair, rubbing his eyes.

"The basement," I said again, overly caffeinated and under-slept and, therefore, a little grumpy.

"What basement?"

"The one at the carpet store," I clarified.

"Kid, there wasn't a basement. No doors to a staircase. Nothing."

"Then what is this?" I asked, swinging the laptop screen in his direction and stabbing at the picture.

He flew out of his chair and across the room, his face a mask of horror as he choked out, "No..."

"Yeah. There's a basement. He must have hidden the..." I didn't get to finish my sentence because suddenly... he wasn't in the cabin anymore. I closed my mouth on a snap as Wolf got up out of his chair, grabbing the cell off the counter in the kitchen where he had put it to charge after Cash had passed out. As he passed, he fished into his pocket and brought out another cell, tossing at me.

"Call it in," he told me, not having to say anything else. I snagged it on the fly and quickly dialed in the number for Hailstorm.

"Malcolm," he answered, his familiar, fatherly voice making my insides feel like they were being ripped out. It was supposed to be a clean break. I was never supposed to hear their voices again. And, next to Lo, Malcolm was the closest thing to family I had. He raised me up. He showed me that men could be good and trustworthy. He never once implied that my damage or my femaleness or my size was ever a factor. He trained me like he trained the men even though I knew he held a soft spot in his heart for me, like the daughter he never had. Hearing his voice physically hurt.

But it was for Lo.

I would torture myself every day left of my miserable life for Lo.

"Malc it's Janie..."

"Jstorm, what the fuck?" he exhaled loudly, sounding both frustrated and relieved. "Where the fuck have you been? Lo is..."

"In the basement of the carpet store. Cash is on his way. He's going to need back up. Bring someone medical. If Damian has her, there's going to be damage."

"On it," Malcolm said and I could hear him issuing out orders. There was a pause. "Honey is everything okay with you?" he asked, somehow picking up on things being amiss. What can I say? He was good at his job.

"Everything is fine. Go get Lo. Get her safe. Get her fixed up."

"Never doubt it," he said, but he wasn't done. "JJ," he said, his voice dipping soft, "when am I going to see you back here?"

The ripping of my insides things intensified. "Bye Malc," I said into the phone, ending the call before things got out of hand and I started crying.

I put my elbows on the table, burying my face in my hands. It was that moment that Wolf decided to come back in. "Janie..." he said softly, all the distance gone from his voice. I couldn't bring myself to look up at him, too focused on trying to rein in my emotions before they went out of control. "He'll get her," he told me and I heard him come up by my side. "She's strong," he reminded me.

"Even strong women can be weak sometimes," I told him, feeling the truth of it in my bones.

I felt his huge palm close over both of my wrists, pushing them down and away from my face. His other hand reached up and snagged my chin, pulling it in his direction. I looked to find him crouched down beside my chair, watching me with open eyes. "He'll take care of her."

"I know he's like your brother and you have to protect him. But Cash isn't exactly..."

"She's his," he cut me off firmly. "He loves her." Those words hit home, cutting through the fear and helplessness I felt. "He'll help."

"Help what?"

"Her be strong again."

"You're sure?"

He gave me a tight nod and I found myself believing him even though I had no good reason to. On a strange muted whimper, I flew off the chair and launched myself into his chest, arms going around him tight. Him, being some descendant of the Titans themselves, didn't so much as budge at the impact. He made a grunting noise, his arms moving around me automatically as I buried my face in his neck, his beard tickling across my cheek.

Feeling braver with the contact, I whispered into his neck. "You locked me out this morning."

His chest tensed against me. "You pushed."

I felt a small laugh escape me, shaking my head. "Yeah I do that sometimes. In case you haven't noticed, I'm a pain in the ass."

"Noticed," he said with what sounded like humor in his voice.

"You're not supposed to agree with me," I laughed, slapping his back, not bothering to wonder why I hadn't let go of him yet.

"Ain't gonna lie," he defended.

"No, but you could keep that trap shut," I smiled, pulling backward to look at his face. "You know how to do that."

"Where's the fun in that?"

"Oh so it's
fun
to insult me?" I said, lowering my eyes at him in mock anger.

"Cute when you're pissed," he said, effectively wiping the smile off my face. Cute? He thought I was
cute?
I wasn't cute. I was a badass, gun-wielding, bomb-setting, Krav Maga-doing bitch from Hailstorm.

"Bunnies are cute," I shot back.

"Yep," he agreed. "So are you."

"I'm a badass," I objected.

"Yep," he agreed, nodding, lips twitching.

"I can incapacitate a full grown man with two fingers."

"Sure."

My eyes lowered for real this time. "I can!" I insisted. "Two fingers, right on the carotid. Eight seconds. Out." He nodded, acknowledging the truth of that statement. But there was a light in his eyes that I didn't trust. "What?" I snapped.

"Got a carotid," he said on a shrug.

"Um... yeah you do. Everyone does."

"You got two fingers. You got ten..." he informed me and I felt myself stiffening as I realized where he was going.

"Don't," I heard myself almost beg.

"Still conscious," he said, giving me a brow lift. "Wonder why."

"Oh gee... I dunno," I said, attempting sarcasm to cover the fact that he was right. He was so right. I hadn't even
tried.
What the hell? "Maybe because you are seventy-thousand pounds of muscle and if you felt my fingers even try to press into your neck, you could snap me like a twig?"

The humor drained from his face, his brows drawing together seriously. "Never," he said almost savagely.

"Never what?" I asked, too fascinated by how quickly his moods could switch from one to another to understand what he was talking about.

But then his arms released me and his hands went to frame my face. "I'd never hurt you."

Oh, duh.

I knew that. Like... I really knew that. He wasn't that type of guy. He was Michael, the archangel. He was a protector. And now I made him think he was some piece of shit that could put his hands on me. Great.

My hands went to his wrists, closing around them. "I know that. I was... deflecting," I admitted with a shrug.

"Why?"

Augh. Why was he always so curious?

"Because I don't know why I haven't tried to choke you or knock you over the head with something, catch you unaware in the shower or something. I'm losing my edge."

"Nah."

"Then what other explanation could you have for it? You dragged me here when I demanded you take me to my car. Then you stole my clothes and you trapped me in here with your hell beasts..."

"And..." he prompted and I knew where he was going with that too.

I sighed. "And got me off the side of the road where I was losing my shit and the cops were bound to find me. And you wrapped up my arm and bought me books and..."

"You wanna be here."

"What? No!" I objected a little too quickly.

"Yeah you do," he said, giving me a small smile.

"No. I need to get to my car and get my clothes and phone and cash and I need to get the hell out of here before Reign, Charles Mallick, Lo, Richard Lyon, and Lex Keith find out I was the one who set the bombs."

"Need isn't want," he picked the part of my argument that went in his favor. He was right, annoyingly, obnoxiously right. I
needed
to get out of town; I didn't
want
to.

"Well I need to stay alive or I won't be
wanting
anything anymore," I reasoned, sounding a bit more like I was trying to convince myself, not him.

"Janie," he said, his thumb stroking across my cheek.

"What?" I asked when he didn't go on.

"Won't let em hurt you."

His words and the sincerity with which he said them had my insides doing that gooey thing again. But still... "I know you want to believe that, Wolf, but you're one person. And you know as well as I do that your brotherhood to The Henchmen is supposed to trump all. Reign is going to be furious enough when he finds out you knew who set the bombs and didn't tell him. He would blow a fucking gasket if you tried to stand between me and him."