Page 77 of Twisted Road

“Silly man. I wasn’t worried about myself. You get into trouble all the time, Keys. You might need me to get you out of it.”

She meant it. That was the thing about Lyric. She gave him hope and faith and didn’t have any idea she was doing it. He was a fucking assassin, for fuck’s sake, and she wanted to look after him. Have his back. She had no idea what that did to him.

“This time I’ve got an entire team with me, Wildfire. Nothing is going to happen to me.”

Her green eyes moved over his face, examining him slowly, inch by inch. Seeing too much because she always did. “An entire team? You’re definitely heading into danger. I could sit on a rooftop with a rifle.”

“You don’t like guns, baby.” Just remembering the state she’d been in when she’d shot Waylon Burrows, keeping her promise to him, tore at his heart. He never wanted to see her like that again, yet here she was, offering to shoot someone to save him.

“I’d like a gun if it saved your life.”

“I love you.” It just slipped out. It wasn’t like he hadn’t said it to her, but it felt different being torn out of him. He hadn’t planned on proclaiming it so fiercely, but he just blurted the declaration out. He got a reaction he should have expected. She beamed. Her smile was so beautiful, he leaned down and brushed his mouth over hers.

“Be good for me, Wildfire. I have to be able to focus completely on what I’m doing. I can’t be worried that you’ll have a panic attack and leave me. I need to know that if you can’t sleep, you’ll take a long bath, curl up with a good book and stay inside for me. I need that, Lyric.”

“Then you have it, Keys. I want you to come home to me. Don’t think about me until you’re finished doing whatever it is, and then think, She’s home waiting, because I will be.”

His heart lurched. “I’ll be back in time for the party with the Rampage club. This party will be completely different because we’re looking for traitors. It really will look more like a barbecue. You think about what you want to wear—something that covers you. No wild sex this time, no matter how much you beg. At least not until we’re home.”

That bought him her laughter. He wanted more because the fright was fading from her eyes to be replaced by amusement.

“I’m serious, woman. You keep your hands to yourself tonight.”

More laughter. Beautiful, perfect notes he’d play when he boarded a private jet and made his way to Los Angeles, where Lana, Alena, Preacher and Ink waited for Steele, Keys, Master, Player, Maestro, Rock and Code. It was going to be a very long night. He’d partied until one in the morning and made certain he was in front of the cameras they had in the clubhouse. Others could testify he was outside a great deal of the time.

They only had a few hours to complete the mission. He would have to be back in Caspar by seven that evening to make his appearance at the barbecue. He kissed her thoroughly, pouring love down her throat, and then abruptly stood.

“Mean what I say, Wildfire. Be here. Need that from you.”

“Mean what I say, Wolfman, I’ll be here,” she reiterated.

He walked out and didn’t look back, finding that was the only way he could leave her.

Keys looked up at the tall skyscraper, the one owned by the Declan and Co. Corporation. Miles, Nolan, Owen and Leo were the “and company.” Miles might be in prison, but he was listed as a partner, just as the others were. Declan was president and CEO of the corporation. Not that Code could find much on what the corporation actually did that was legitimate. He didn’t understand how they hadn’t been investigated yet. Mostly, they made huge profits from their underground casinos and shaking down every business in town. Declan and Co. Corporation had their hand in every profitable pie there was. They were in bed with organized crime and powerful enough not to be swallowed up.

Power corrupted. Keys had learned that at a very young age. Sorbacov had craved power, and the more he’d gotten, the more he’d wanted. He never had enough. He had no desire to run his country; he wanted to run those who did. And he succeeded. People like Declan and his four friends woke the monster in Keys. The way they felt entitled to take whatever they wanted—or who they wanted—without consequences. They’d never been held accountable because there was no one who could touch them—or so they thought.

It hadn’t taken Lana and Alena much time before they met and were invited to a party being thrown by Owen, Nolan and Leo at the penthouse. The two women were experts at getting noticed, playing their parts perfectly. Two rich women with their own company. Code had built their images over time, and anyone researching would buy into their cover story. They’d used it on the Ghosts successfully, and even after taking down their underground casino, that cover was still intact. They hadn’t looked guilty. They’d fled a fire and the attack someone else orchestrated against the Ghosts.

They were beautiful. They wore designer clothes and shoes as if those clothes had been made for them. The jewelry was understated unless you knew what you were looking for, and then anyone seeing them would know they each wore a fortune. They’d been trained in the art of seduction from the time they were very young, and every single movement, every step, the tones they used, everything about them was irresistible. The three members of the Declan and Co. Corporation were no exception.

Keys donned his service overalls, as did Master. They went straight through the front doors and checked in with the desk. There would be no fingerprints of theirs; they wore false ones. The cameras saw faces that weren’t their own. Their identities checked out with the repair service the penthouse contracted to Declan and Co. Corporation. In fact, the corporation owned the repair company and used it to install cameras in the homes of those they wanted information on. Their tools were those of repairmen. They had been officially called to resolve a problem on the floor below the penthouse, and they responded quickly, as Declan and Co. Corporation insisted they were always the first priority.

Preacher and Ice had been busy wreaking havoc in the building, overloading circuits and generally causing minor problems. Nothing big enough to raise the alarm until the floor beneath the penthouse suddenly went dark and sparks jumped out of several outlets. That was a major problem that required immediate attention.

In the meantime, Lana and Alena had dressed carefully for the party in the penthouse. Both wore beautifully pleated silk pants and silk blouses with light jackets. Torpedo Ink knew it was no real party with multiple guests. Code had uncovered how the three men lured women to their apartment, locked them in and proceeded to rape and beat them, allowing their bodyguards to participate as well. Declan was not a regular at the events, and there had been no sign of him for weeks. That wasn’t unusual. He often disappeared, taking off on his own, away from the others, for trips overseas.

Torpedo Ink knew he was in the United States and they needed to flush him out. Keys had no doubt that Declan would surface once his entire pack was dead—and that was the goal: exterminate the four men who followed his every command.

Lana and Alena took the private elevator up to the penthouse. Keys and Master were already on the floor beneath and simply hitched a ride on the elevator via the shaft. They waited to make certain Lana had disrupted the cameras before they made their exit.

Owen opened the door with a broad grin, his gaze sweeping over the two women. Behind him, three bodyguards and his two friends Nolan and Leo leered at them. The women appeared not to notice but walked in with total confidence, giving Owen a huge smile. He closed and locked the door. The sound of the lock clicking in place stopped the women from advancing into the room. They glanced back at the door, then uncertainly at Owen, before looking around the huge room.

“Where’s the party?” Lana asked.

“You’re the party,” Owen said, a huge grin on his face. His gesture took in the men in the room. “You’re going to have a real good time. Well, maybe. It’s guaranteed that we’ll have a good time.”

The two women looked at each other. Lana lifted her chin. “I think there’s been a mistake.”