Sweet Seduction Sacrifice (22 page)

I think I called them mother-fuckers, not something I make a habit of doing, but desperate times and all that. I certainly told them to effing stop and effing go away and effing pick on someone else. There were a few too many F-words in amongst it all, but it was strangely cathartic to get them all out. And then, just as I was really winding up, because that's what I do when on a roll, Ben turned around and bent at the waist, wrapping his arms about my thighs and lifting me clean up into the air. My chest banged down over his shoulder onto his back with a thump, my cheek came to rest just above his buffed butt and his hands held on firmly to the tops of my jeans as he ran.

So, hauled out over his shoulder then. It figures I couldn't avoid that. He seemed hell bent on doing it anyway, I half expected him to have arranged the gun show and in actual fact they were all using blanks. But then the window of my store had shattered and the realisation that I had been standing - first dumbly immobile and then fist throwingly idiotic - in the middle of a shoot out, hit. I sucked in a breath to try to steady myself, but the tears were already falling and all I managed was a half strangled sob into the back of Ben's faded Tee.

The gunshots stopped, but Ben still ran. Maybe for a whole minute more, maybe longer, I couldn't tell. The world was blurry, my ears were ringing and reality had abandoned me. I was entirely wrapped up in a surreal and - it was dawning on me - bad, bad world. This was way more than I bargained for. Way more than I expected Brett to ever do. What? He saw me with another man and fired guns at us? Can't have me so no one can?

It didn't make sense, I couldn't align it with the world, with the Brett I knew. Surreal. And no matter how my brain was trying to wrap itself around this new development it just couldn't. The tears were still falling when we made it to Ben's car, but the sobs had thankfully subsided. They were just silent trickles down my cheeks. Inside, I was just as much a mess. Totally unable to think my way through this. I could see no solution, because I simply couldn't understand the problem.

This was not my world, but somehow I was slap bang in the middle of it.

Ben almost threw me in the front passenger seat, shouting, "Buckle up!" before he slammed the door closed and sprinted to the driver's side. He wasn't wasting any time getting the hell out of there. I fumbled with the seatbelt, it jammed, my hands shook, the tears continued to silently fall. But Ben didn't offer a hand, he slipped into his seat and started the car, before his door clicked shut at his side. Within seconds we were a hundred metres down the road, a minute later we were barrelling onto Quay Street and careening through traffic like dodgem cars at the Easter Show. Not that we collided with anything, but the speed and jerkiness of Ben's driving skills felt just as jarring as those little electric cars.

His hands gripped the steering wheel, which would have been OK, but one of them still held his gun. I didn't like the idea he was multitasking at these types of speeds. But eventually he slipped it into his holster with practised ease and a steady hand, then his fingers punched buttons on the console of the car and the dial tone of a phone line came over the speakers. I still silently cried, because that's what I do. I hated this weakness, but cut myself a break considering the arseholes had shot at my dream.

"Status," came a deep male voice down the line, I was picking it was Nick's, but I didn't know him well enough yet to be sure.

"Got her. On Quay Street. No injuries."

"Good, I've got you on GPS, debrief in fifteen." The line went dead.

Ben stayed silent, about as silent as my tears which refused to stop falling, all the way to Long Drive. He pulled up to the white behemoth of a house, parking in the front drive and slipping out of the door almost before the car rolled to a stop. I expected him to come round my side of the car and open it, as I seemed to be unable to get my seatbelt unbuckled now that it was done up, but he was halted in front of the hood - by my brother.

Jason took one swing at Ben's face, fisted hand ready to strike. And missed. I don't think I have ever seen my brother miss when throwing a punch. Not that I've watched all of his fist fights, but he'd had a few growing up and whenever "fight, fight, fight" was chanted in the school yard, I knew it would involve him and had always made sure to bear witness. Since then he's had training, so the fact Ben dodged, and then managed to dodge the next shot, was quite remarkable.

But it only pissed Jason off even more. Being well trained, Jason abandoned straight out punching and felled Ben with a swift, well placed kick to the side of his head. Ben went down on one knee, Jason jumped him and then they were rolling around on the driveway, fists flying, some connecting, some not, but a hell of a lot of swearing going on.

My door finally opened, Dominic reached in and undid my belt and then proceeded to run his hands over my body to make sure I wasn't hurt. Once that had been carried out, the fist fight had progressed to the manicured garden out front, box hedge and white roses collateral damage as the two idiots rampaged all over the flower beds. Dominic's hand wrapped around my upper arm and he pulled me from the car. It wasn't gentle, which was the first give-away that he was mad.

The next was his words.

"What the hell did you think you were doing?" he demanded, his anger crackling between us, his words almost lost in the grunts and flesh on flesh sounds coming from over my shoulder.

I didn't answer. I couldn't talk before, there was no way I was going to be able to do it under threat. But the tears still managed to fall, silent, uninvited, unperturbed by all the ridiculous behaviour going on around me.

Nick appeared at the top of the stairs and barked out one word. "Stop!"

I almost huffed incredulously, Jason didn't stop until Jason was done. But then he did. And so did Ben. Both men springing up and away from each other, placing several feet between them. Cut lips, bruised cheeks and bloodied knuckles at their sides.

"Get inside," Nick ordered. "Time for debrief." He turned and headed back in the house, expecting everyone to follow in his wake.

Ben and Jason kept a minimum of three feet between them, but stomped up the steps and into the house. I began to follow, because what else was there to do? And really, if another fist fight broke out inside - which was highly possible - I wanted to watch Jason kicking Ben's butt. He had thrown me over his shoulder, even if it was to save my life.

Oh, and there were the sobs.

"Genevieve," Dominic said softly, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and guiding me up the stairs. "What am I to do with you?" I didn't answer, my tears had located their voice.

I found myself wrapped up in a blanket on Dominic's couch, a hot, steaming cup of cocoa in my shaking hands, watching the scene play out before me. I hadn't taken a sip of the drink, but holding it felt nice. Dominic had made it for me the moment he left me bundled up on the sofa. I was grateful, but I missed his arms. His warmth. His feather-light touch of lips against my temple at the edge of my hair. All of which I would have allowed him to offer, but he hadn't. He'd bundled me up and sat me down and then disappeared into the kitchen for five minutes while Jason and Ben glared at each other and Nick finished a phone call.

When he handed me the drink, he'd taken several steps back and leaned against the far wall, just watching. Me, Nick, Ben and Jason. Then back to me. It didn't help the tears. Just before Nick got off the phone another man arrived. He was introduced as Adam Savill, another ASI hottie. Thick blond hair swept back off his face, broad shoulders in a tight fitting black T-shirt, black jeans and boots and the obligatory black leather belt with assortment of toys, including a gun. I stared at his gun for several minutes, as he relayed information from the scene of the shoot out, but none of it mattered. My store front had been shattered. Every single curved pane of glass. Thankfully no one inside was hurt. None of my customers or staff. But the shop was cordoned off by police and would be boarded up with ugly plywood before the sun set.

My dream had been harmed. Like a knife wound to the chest, it was bleeding before me and it was all I could do to not cry out loud and curl up in a little ball. I swiped at the tears still falling, they hadn't stopped since outside Sweet Seduction's doors. I was sure they weren't going to stop any time soon.

"OK, tell me what happened?" Nick directed his question to Ben, but Jason was the one to sit up straighter.

"Gunshots rang out as soon as I got her out the door. Three assailants, .45's at my guess. From across the street. Couldn't get a clean line of sight on all of them, but one could have been a ringer for one of Declan King's henchmen."

"But you can't be sure."

"90% sure."

"Good enough for me," Nick replied.

"Well, it's not for me." Jason shot to his feet on those words. "How long did you stand there and try to identify them while they shot at my sister?" he demanded, fists again clenched.

"No more than twenty seconds," Ben answered without a bat of his eyelids.

Twenty seconds, it felt like longer. It felt like the gunshots were performing an opera length aria. It felt like it never ended at all. I could still hear the gunshots in my ears. Inside my head. All around me.

I hadn't realised I'd covered my ears with my hands, somehow placing the drink of cocoa down on the table before I affected my pathetic stance. Dominic was next to me in an instant, his own hands covering mine, kneeling in front of me, trying to get me to look him in the eyes. He pried my fingers away from my head so I could hear him, I didn't make it easy.

"Sweetheart," he said softly. "It's OK. You're OK." I shook my head. Jason swore. Nick told him to can it, he wasn't helping and then there was a knock on the front door.

Everyone stilled.

"You expecting anyone?" Nick asked, heading to the hallway, gun already out held loosely at his thigh. What world had I stepped into?

Dominic stood up before me, his body acting as a shield, I could tell. Ben and Adam had their guns out and had spread around the room, and to my absolute horror, Jason had his out as well. I didn't even know he had a gun, well not a military issued one he'd have to give back whenever he left the base to come home. But there it was, matt black and big, held familiarly in the palm of one of his hands. My eyes fixated on it. On him. My big brother who always came rushing to my side whenever I needed someone to fight my battles.

"You're so much better at this than me," I said aloud, but I was sure I was only meant to think it.

Jason swung his head towards me, his face softened. "Yeah, but you're so much better at cooking than me."

"You are?" Dominic asked on a smile.

Both of them trying their damnedest to lighten the mood. I noticed guns were being re-holstered, so although I didn't know who had arrived at the door, the rest of them did and had stood down already. Dominic slipped into the seat beside me, wrapped an arm around my neck and when my head automatically fell to rest on his shoulder, he shifted me completely, pulling me into his lap.

It was so intimate, so special, and exactly what I needed despite present company. My brother watched the entire manoeuvre but simply looked away when my body moulded into Dominic's and all tension left my frame. Even the tears had stopped, miraculously. Dominic, god-like, dream-like Anscombe had a soothing effect on my emotions that should get bottled. He'd make a small fortune selling it, I was sure.

"I simply wanted to see what all the fuss was, darling. Is that too much to ask?" Katie's voice drifted in from the hall, explaining the holstered weapons. "Besides, you missed Sunday brunch, Nicky, a girl shouldn't have to do the chasing, yet here I am."

"You've never chased anyone in your entire privileged life, Katie. I'm quite sure you're not about to start now. You're just being nosey," Nick shot back at his sister.

"I chased a sales clerk once when she tried to slip a
Dolce and Gabbana
scarf out the back door of a store. Honestly, where do they hire these people, she had plenty of space beneath the counter to have hidden the thing, then I wouldn't have seen it at all."

"Did you buy it?" Dominic asked casually from beside me, his voice rumbling through his body as my ear rested against his chest.

Nick and Katie walked in the room, both grinning at us. "Of course, darling. It matched a dress I'd bought the week before." Both men sniggered, obviously finding their little sister's small world of fashion dilemmas amusing. To my ears it just made her seem shallow, but that's not the woman I had met yesterday. I was just confused, maybe I'd misjudged her. That would be a shame.

Her eyes swept over the room lazily, the smile on her face widening at the sight of Ben and Adam and then she stalled. Her face fell slightly, minutely even, she covered it well. Then she spun on her heels towards Nick.

"Thanks for the warning," she said in a tone I hadn't heard from her before. It was soft, but not in the slightest frivolous.

"We needed a laugh, Katie, it's been a hectic day."

She glared at him for a moment and then turned back to the room, shoulders straight.

"Genevieve, darling. Are you all right?" Despite the habitual endearment Katie always seemed to use, her words were weighted with concern, her eyes sweeping over me with intense perusal. She really wanted to know. This was the Katie I had met yesterday.