AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Don't thank me yet. Keep your doors locked, stay away from the windows. Be ready to go when Jasper arrives.” The call ended abruptly.
Thane dropped his phone on the counter, then let his head fall into his hands. Time was ticking and he needed to get moving, get things into motion so he could keep Connie safe. But he had to take a moment to wonder why this shitstorm had come down on his head now. After three years of reorganizing his life, rebuildingthe fucking thing, why was this happening now?
Because Guthrie had failed in his first attempt, his second?
Because Stevens had let his dog loose again?
Thane hated not knowing what lies were being spread about him, from one snake to another. He needed intel, so he knew how to handle whatever was coming for him.
Like which asshole wanted him dead more.
Scrubbing his hands over his face briskly, Thane let them fall to his sides and sighed. Reasons didn't matter. Once Atticus's team contained the threat, none of itwould matter. It would cease to exist, if the big guy's temper was anything to go by. Thane got the impression no one fucked with someone Atticus loved, and Atticus loved Connie in a way that bypassed sexual intimacy and catapulted straight into familial connections.
As he limped out of the kitchen, Thane really hoped his former associates pissed themselves when faced with the consequences of their actions.
*
Connie woke as her legs were pushed into a pair of loose jeans. Confused, she looked down to see Thane wrestling the material up her thighs, noting she was missing a pair of panties. Her uncooperative limbs weren't helping him in his quest to dress her, and she wasn't inclined to change that until she knew what the hell was happening. “Thane?”
“Good morning, sugar. Need you to get your ass up and finish getting dressed.” His tone was grim, his eyes dark and shadowed. “I'll explain everything soon but, here and now, I need you to trust me and do what I tell you.”
She blinked twice, frowning as she studied him sleepily. Her lover was dressed in black—sweater, jeans, boots—and looked fucking amazing, truth be told. It accented the breadth of his shoulders, the width of his hips, and gave him a rakish look. Especially with those amber eyes almost glowing with determination. “What time is it?”
“Too fucking early,” he told her with a mocking laugh, but she sensed it wasn't directed at her. “Come on, Connie. Listen to me. Up and dressed, now. This is important; I wouldn't ask you to do it otherwise.”
“O-kay…” Deciding to humor him because her brain wasn't fully awake, she pushed herself into sitting up and brushed his hands away. If she had to wear clothes before she knew what day it was, she could damn well dress herself. Her gaze landed on a duffle bag by the door that was big enough to fold a body into. “Are we going somewhere?”
“Little trip.” Thane picked up a shirt and bundled her into it, his movements brisk and efficient. He handed her a hoody that smelled of him. “Put that on. Your socks are in your boots, which are just here.” He nudged them with his foot, then checked his watch and scowled.
“You're making me nervous, Thane.”
His hands grasped her face and his eyes drilled into hers. “I know, I'm sorry. Don't be worried. I will never let anything happen to you. This is just a precaution, everything is under control.” He bent and rested his forehead against hers. “I've asked you for your trust a lot over the past few weeks, sugar. This is the one time I'll ask for it blind.”
Fuck, it was bad. She could see the turmoil bubbling in the amber, feel it seeping out of his pores. Whatever it was, it had the potential to destroy. When Thane eased away, she nodded slowly. If he was asking for her blind trust, she would close her eyes and give it.
“Good girl.”
The next few minutes were a blur of activity. She donned the hoody, her socks and boots. Darted to the bathroom to pee and brush her teeth. Her mouth felt better once the evidence of last night was scrubbed away. He was waiting for her when she came out, his hand latching tightly onto hers as he towed her from the bedroom, pausing briefly to heft the duffle over his shoulder.
She didn't question him again. The vibes he exuded were making her antsy, and the feeling that something was terribly wrong wouldn't stop plucking her nerves. As they hurried down the stairs, the atmosphere altered subtly enough for her to stop, jerking Thane to a halt on the bottom step. He turned, his eyes on hers with a coaxing expression.
A shot rang out, obscenely loud, and blood splattered over her face.
She didn't scream. Couldn't. Her throat was locked in a spasm of fear as Thane's eyes went wide and blank before his body dropped. Just dropped like a stone, ripping his hand from hers as he tumbled off the step in a heap. A shocked whimper broke free as red, so much red, pooled around him like a hellish halo.
“Aren't you a pretty picture?” A low, unfamiliar voice rasped from the shadows in the living room. The curtains in there were still closed, shutting out the daylight signaling a new day. A lighter clicked, and in the glow of the flame, a gaunt face leered at her before a cigarette flared red on the tip. “Isaacson upgraded, didn't he? Fucker gets the money, the woman, the fucking dream.”
Was she still asleep? Wandering through a nightmare where the man she loved bled out on the floor while she was held at gunpoint by a stranger? It didn't feel like a dream. She could smell Thane's blood, and the noxious pungency of the cigarette. Her face was wet. She could taste the copper tang of terror on her tongue.
“Quiet one, huh? That's okay. I've got time to loosen that tongue.” The owner of the voice stalked forward into the light, dragging heavily on the cigarette as he trained a shiny black gun at her chest. “Why don't you come on down, baby? If you want to live through today, you need to start making nice.”
Shock. She was in shock. It was the only reason she wasn't throwing herself down the last couple of steps to check on Thane, to see whether he was still alive. He needed medical attention, a hospital. Even with the gun aimed at her, she was frozen. Thoughts ticked past like the minute hand of a clock, everything slowed down to a crawl.
Another shot rang out, compounding the damage to her eardrums. Her head rang with it, her eyes watering with the ferocity of the sound. Between her feet, a hole appeared. Small, neat. But she'd seen Thane's scar, kissed it, stroked the marred skin on the back of his shoulder. She was aware that what went in neatly caused absolute devastation on the other side.
“The next one goes in his head for good measure. I told you to come here.”
That nudged her out of her shock enough to have her feet move of their own accord. Half a dozen steps later, she stood trembling in front of someone she'd never seen before. Someone who obviously knew Thane. “You killed him.”
