Page 21 of Cause Of Death

Headlights cut through the gloom, slowly navigating their way along the derelict driveway until they light up what I’ve learned is an abandoned resort hotel. I detach from the shadows and slowly walk toward the vehicle, careful to remain out of sight until I’m certain of our newest visitors’ identity.

The vehicle comes to a halt, tires crunching on the gravel, the heat and stench of diesel exhaust washing over me as I approach from behind. I relax as a figure I know, trust, and dearly love exits from the driver’s door.

Henley turns and stares directly at me, even though I haven’t made a sound.

“Disa Mariah Aloft, give me one fucking reason why I shouldn’t put you over my knee and tan your ass until it glows,” he growls, and an excited thrill shivers through me at the thought of his hands on my bare skin. “You’re fucking lucky that Steve and I made good time and arrived before Les and Kimmy could leave without us. Now, where’s this hostage of yours? We need to get gone, and get gone yesterday. This place is being watched.”

Another shiver wracks my body, but this isn’t one of delicious anticipation. Fear bleeds through me—fear for my family, fear of ambush, but most of all, fear for the omega under my protection.

I jog back over to the van, slowing as I approach the open passenger door. Kieran is propped up against the B pillar, eyes closed as he drowses restlessly. His skin has turned ashen during our wait, with tiny beads of sweat breaking out over his forehead and above his lip. His T-shirt is damp, and when I brush my fingers over the skin of his throat, I grimace at the clammy feel of it over his thundering pulse.

“Kieran,” I murmur softly, gently shaking his shoulders to wake him from his doze. “Our ride is here, let’s get you into the car and next to a med-kit, yeah?”

Golden eyes blink groggily down at me. Kieran doesn’t say a word as he slips from the bench seat, the movement fluid but also lacking grace. He stumbles as his feet hit the ground, his knees buckling beneath his own weight. It’s only through my quick intervention that he doesn’t crumple to the ground completely, and I quickly shove my shoulder into his side, using myself as a brace to keep him steady.

“C’mon, princeling. One foot in front of the other, now. That’s it,” I croon, encouraging him to take baby steps toward the SUV where the rest of my family wait.

Steve is out of the vehicle and standing alongside Henley by the time we reach the car, the back passenger door already open and ready. Leslie and Kimberly are set up in the back with a caged Gizmo, and there’s an open med-kit sitting on the empty back seat.

Steve passes me a soft bundle and nods to it, then gently lifts Kieran into his arms and then into the car. Unrolling the bundle I find matching sports underwear, soft leggings, and an open-neck knit sweater, as well as a pair of ballet flats. I kick off Conroy’s boots and shimmy into the clean panties and leggings, then shrug off Kieran’s hoodie and pass it over to Steve. The pockets are full to bulging with the assortment of items welooted from the bodies, and I gesture to them as Steve takes possession of the bundle.

“The hoodie is Kieran’s. There’s a bunch of stuff that Les and Kimmy may find interesting or useful in the pockets,” I instruct before tucking myself into the sports bra and then the sweater. I brush the remaining loose dirt and grit from my feet before slipping them into the ballet flats. I start to climb into the back seat alongside Kieran, but Steve blocks my entry, shaking his head and pointing to the front passenger seat.

“You’re riding shotgun, short-stack. Don’t worry, I’ll look after your boy here. I’m pretty handy and know my way around a med-kit. You have some explaining to do, so hop in so we can get the fuck out of here.”

I grimace, but don’t argue. It’s pointless to do so, for one, and we don’t have the time to waste. Climbing into the front of the SUV, I ignore the angry stare of my hopeful alpha and simply buckle my seat belt. Steve firmly closes my door, the car rocking with the shifting weight of him sliding into the seat behind me and slamming his own door shut. The moment it does, Henley puts the pedal to the metal, gravel kicking out from beneath the tires as he accelerates away from the derelict building and the ghosts who now reside there.

“Talk, Disa. And don’t youdarethink of leaving anything out. You’re in deep enough shit with me as it is,” Hen growls at me, and I sigh. I have no desire to omit any details, nor dig myself even deeper into the shit with Henley.

Not even if it means revealing my attraction to Adam and Kieran.

So, I talk.

And tell themeverything.

This woman. Thisfuckingwoman. She drives me to utter distraction, and I swear to God that one day, she’ll be the death of me.

I just hope that I can finally make her mine before that happens.

Packing up my life with the military, even with Steve’s help, had been hard. Pushing our limits so we could do the return trip in two days had been harrowing. Arriving at the house in Merced after two exhausting days on the road only to find Leslie and Kimberly trying to catch Gizmo and shove him into a cat crate had not done my temper any favors. Then to find out that the woman I adore had gone against our established protocols and disappeared, only to call for a pick-up with Kieran Prince in tow? That shattered whatever chains that still tethered my fragile control.

I’d gritted my teeth and barked out to Leslie and Kimberly to join Steve in the U-Haul truck as I stalked Gizmo down and unceremoniously bundled him into his travel crate. Luckily forme, the little fur ball didn’t put up a fuss, and the ride to the storage facility was done mostly in silence. Only Steve spoke, and that was to notify the hire company that we’d be extending our contract on the truck. I love the man, he’s worth his weight in gold and will be an asset to our pack, should we ever get it formally established and recognized.

Swapping out the truck for the modified SUV hadn’t taken but a moment, the only real delay being at my behest. I’d opened the truck and gone searching for my battered metal trunk, hauling it out of the enclosed container and maneuvering it into the cargo space of the Suburban. Nobody batted an eyelid or even asked what was so important about the trunk.

They already knew.

My ire has not dwindled an iota by the time the headlights illuminate the abandoned and decrepit shell of the hotel resort where Disa and her target are hiding out. I already know where they are, Kieran Prince stashed away in a van hidden in some outbuildings, with Disa concealed in the shadows. I leave the engine running as I pull the handbrake and step out of the vehicle, turning to stare directly into the eyes of the incorrigible—and hopefully mine soon—omega.

“Disa Mariah Aloft, give me one fucking reason why I shouldn’t put you over my knee and tan your ass until it glows,” I growl, fighting the urge to pull her into my arms and either shake her or kiss her senseless. “You’re fucking lucky that Steve and I made good time and arrived before Les and Kimmy could leave without us. Now, where’s this hostage of yours? We need to get gone, and get gone yesterday. This place is being watched.”

Disa shudders at my words, then turns and jogs over to where she left Prince. She’s wearing a dark, oversize hoodie and boots several sizes too large for her, so at least she isn’t naked. But I still don’t like the idea of her being out here alone, unarmed, and under-dressed.

I quickly help Leslie and Kimberly into the rear row of seats with Gizmo’s crate between them, before pulling my own med-kit from the trunk stashed in the back of the SUV. It’s one I’ve kept stocked and ready from the first day of basic training. Its contents are more on par with what you’d find on a combat medic rather than in a generic first-aid kit. I set it on the back seat and open it up, then glance over to Steve.

“You’ll patch him up. Les and Kim can help if needed. Wisp’s up front with me.” My orders are low and concise, no bark needed to emphasize them. Steve just nods.

Good man.

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