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For now, I just wanted to know that she was okay, even if it meant standing out in the fucking cold as I watched her through a goddamn restaurant window. Maybe I had problems, but I didn’t care. I liked knowing she was safe.
Maybe my wife being kidnapped had done a fucking number on me too because not being around her was fucking rough—both her and our girls. Our girls. What a wild fucking concept. I wanted nothing more than to build a fucking tower to keep my wife in until I had a solid fucking plan to protect her. And could teach her how to protect herself.
I tipped my head to the wind, inhaling deeply as I caught the scent of leather and cinnamon gum. Oh fucking hell.
“Beau,” I growled as I listened to him approach.
“Stalkin’ your wife, Killy Boy?” Beau greeted cheerfully. He stopped beside me, hands shoved in his pockets, and rocked comfortably on his heels. “Possessive Daddy is a fun look on you.”
“Go fuck yourself,” I retorted. “What the fuck do you want?”
“The boss man wants to have a chat with you,” he told me. My heart fucking dropped out of my chest. Shit.
“I’m busy.”
“Don’t fuckin’ care.” His toothpick clicked on his teeth as he moved it around. “I got instructions to bring your ass in—willin’ or not. So, we doin’ this the easy way or the fun way?”
The grin he flashed me was downright terrifying. Yeah, I was in fucking trouble. I dropped my cigarette and rolled the sole of my boot over it.
“Lead the way, Beau,” I said. I refused to give him the satisfaction of making this hard. It was just easier to follow blindly because whatever Lane wanted, Lane would get.
“Always so borin’, Killy Boy.” Beau laughed. “We could’ve had some fuckin’ fun together.”
I stayed silent. Instead, I glanced over my shoulder one last time at Genevieve and took a moment to enjoy the happy smile on her face. I clung to that because whatever the hell Lane had in store for me, I knew I wouldn’t like it.
A nightclub was the last fucking place I expected Beau to take me. A dark alley in the middle of nowhere to be gutted had definitely been the fucking list of expectations. Instead, he walked me straight through an active club. Music vibrated against my bones, the smell of sweat was nauseating, and the neon lights gave me a damn near instant headache.
“Why the fuck are we in a club?” I shouted as I stuck close to Beau.
“Boss told you he was a businessman,” Beau called over his shoulder.
“Yeah, but you also said he went to medical school,” I replied. “More than once.”
“Different lifetimes.” He shrugged because, of course, that was a normal fucking thing. Lane owning a nightclub? That was a fucking thought I never would’ve had. The noise, the lights, the crowd. All of it grated on my nerves. All I could imagine was the killing spree the man would go on in a place like this. Fuck, I wanted to kill someone—make the crowd go away.
Shit. I swallowed back the rise of anger. That thought wasn’t normal even for me.
“You ain’t in the fuckin’ system.” Beau stopped at a door protected by a hand scanner. “Not yet anyway.”
I didn’t want to be in the fucking system but didn’t say that shit outloud. I had a feeling anything I’d say would fall on deaf ears.
A dark hall stretched in front of us when the system approved him. As we walked, we passed a single door with the kind of elaborate security system you’d expect to find in a fucking science fiction movie. I had absolutely no fucking desire to know what was behind that door. Ever.
“Keep walkin’, Killy Boy,” Beau ordered. Despite the nickname, there wasn’t an ounce of humor in his voice. I glanced at the door again, not realizing I had faltered in front of it. I shook my head and trailed after him.
Was the hallway neverending?
It sure as fuck felt like it. The darkness pressed uncomfortably against my skin, making air scarce in my lungs. The monster inside me twisted and tested my control as the hairs on the back of my neck stood at attention. When I flexed my fingers, claws scraped against my palm.
Fuck, I was losing my control.
I focused on my breathing. In and out. Slow and steady. It did little to help. I teetered on the edge of my control as I kept up with him.
The hall ended abruptly, spilling out into a dimly lit room with purple couches centered around a low set table. Lane sat, one leg crossed over the other with his arms stretched across the back of one couch. Seeing him with that dark expression on his face was enough to stop me dead in my tracks.
But the fact that he wasn’t alone was fucking daunting. I recognized Kal standing in the corner, his arms crossed over his broad chest. Mossy green eyes watched me closely—a thing I didn’t fucking want. It made my heart race unsteadily. The man came across as a gentle fucking giant with his long chestnut hair, full beard, flannel shirt, and work boots. But I knew his act. Kal’s specialty was instilling terror. If he was here, I wanted no fucking part of it.
And the others in the room I didn’t recognize, but it wasn’t a long reach to believe the others were the rest of Lane’s team. Which put me in dangerous territory.
