Brody's Vow (Colebrook Siblings Trilogy Book 1) (4 page)

At times like this, however, it was a damn lonely and dangerous place to be.

She also didn’t want anyone else put in danger because of her, and she’d learned a long time ago that she couldn’t rely on anyone but her Valkyrie sisters. So, it was Briar or nothing. “Look, we’re good now. Where’s Briar?”

“L.A.”

Crap.
No reinforcement for her anytime soon then. She covered her disappointment. “Tell her I said hi. Sorry about the break-in—I’ll set the security system again before I leave.”

“Nuh-uh, you didn’t break into my house and disable my very expensive, state-of-the-art security system just to see if you could. So what’s going on?” he demanded.

“Really, I’m fine.” Or she would be, as long as she could get out of the area undetected and take a few days to recover before trying to leave the country.

But she couldn’t get on a flight without one of her IDs, and they were all stashed back at her rental apartment. Which was the first place Tino would look once he started digging into her background, and all his various law enforcement contacts would help him.

“Trin. Just tell me. I can help you,” he said, his tone impatient.

No you can’t.
And he could push all he wanted, but she wasn’t telling him anything, least of all with Colebrook here. She didn’t trust the agent standing in front of her. “It’s all good now. I needed a change of clothes so I borrowed some stuff from Briar.” Man, her friend was skinny. The jeans were damn near cutting off her circulation and the sweater kept riding up.

“Who’s after you?” he pushed.

“Matt. Leave it alone.”

He expelled a loud breath, clearly irritated by her stubbornness. “All of you are the fucking same,” he grumbled, and there was no mistaking he meant her, Briar and Georgia, all former Valkyries. “You guys drive me insane more often than not, you know that? It’s no wonder I’m going bald.”

“Having one thinning spot on the top of your head is not the same as going bald.” She had her reasons for being stubborn about this, and she was sticking to them.

He grunted. “I gotta go. But if you need anything—I don’t care what it is—call me. In the meantime, you can trust Colebrook. I’ll tell Briar you were looking for her.”

Trust Colebrook? She didn’t think so. She didn’t trust anyone until they’d earned it. “Thanks. I might be out of touch for a few days. Tell her I’ll call her once I get back to London.”

“I will.” Matt gave a hard sigh. “Colebrook, take me off speaker.”

Trinity stiffened as he did just that, listened to Matt for a few moments then mumbled a response and ended the call. The sudden silence filled the space until it pressed in on her from all sides. “What did he say?” she demanded.

“That you insisting you’re
fine
is bullshit, and that I’m supposed to help you in whatever way I can and watch your back until you’re safe.”

She clenched her jaw and narrowed her eyes, hating that Matt saw her as needing that kind of help. Even if at the moment, she actually did.

“So, Trinity,” Colebrook said, taking an uneven step toward her. “Want to tell me what the hell happened to you tonight?”

Before she could blurt out the lie waiting on the tip of her tongue, the sound of a car engine racing up the street caught her attention. She tensed, her head automatically turning toward the door, and stood there listening for a few seconds. The sound grew louder with every heartbeat. Coming closer.

Tino.
He’d found her somehow. She had only seconds before he opened fire.

On pure instinct she launched herself at Colebrook, wrapping her arms around his waist as she tackled him to the floor, trying to make them as small a target as possible. A loud bang from outside echoed in her ears as they fell.

He let out a pained grunt as they hit the hardwood, then automatically rolled to place her in front of him so that her back pressed against the wall, shielding her with his larger body. She stayed rigid, her bleeding head pressed to his chest, tensing for impact.

But when no bullets tore through the windows or wall, her hammering heart began to calm and it slowly dawned on her that it hadn’t been a gunshot she’d heard. It had been nothing but an engine backfiring.

She didn’t even have time to feel relieved or embarrassed before Colebrook suddenly rolled her beneath him, his hard, muscular frame crushing her into the hardwood, her wrists caught in his iron grip as he pinned her hands above her. He loomed over her in the shadows, a foreboding expression on his chiseled face.

His dark eyes locked on hers, full of quiet fury as he bit out, “All right, I’ve had enough. You better start talking. Fast.”

Brody might not know who the woman he had pinned to the floor was, or what had happened to her, but he
was
sure of two things. One, she had amazing curves. And two, he was pretty sure she thought someone was out to kill her.

She glared up at him with a mutinous expression ruined by the streaks of blood marring the left side of her face, and refused to say anything. The skin of her wrists was freezing.

“Start talking,” he snapped, out of patience. She’d just fucking tackled him to the floor as though she’d been expecting someone to open up on the house when that car backfired.

She huffed out an irritated breath as though
she
was the one who had the right to be annoyed. “I’m like Briar.”

“What do you mean,
like
her?”

“A Valkyrie.”

That meant nothing to him, but it also made him insanely curious. He knew Briar was pretty badass in her own right, knew she could shoot a rifle damn near as well as he and DeLuca, which was saying something. As to what other training she had or what her background was, he didn’t know. If Trinity had that same type of training, then he had a whole new level of respect for her.

Except right now, he just wanted answers and to find out what kind of danger she—and now he, because of her—was facing. “Who’s after you?”

Her jaw clenched once before she grudgingly answered. “A hit man.”

Ah, just fucking great. “Who specifically?”

“Former Mob enforcer.”

Jesus H. Christ.
He ground his back teeth together as he stared down at her. Her skin was pale, almost translucent, her short dark hair plastered to her head and her eyes ringed by smudged dark makeup.

He released his hold on her wrists, eased up onto his forearms but refused to give her any more space than that. “What did you do, kill somebody?”

If possible, her gaze grew cooler. Rather than answer, she shrugged.

Shit, really? He couldn’t see DeLuca vouching for her and being so concerned for her welfare if she was a criminal, so it had to be a sanctioned hit of some kind. “What happened to you?”

“My car crashed into a lake.”

What?
His eyebrows shot upward, but he guessed her answer explained the water he’d seen on the floor and why her hair was still wet. He eased up more, covering a wince as he got to his knees. “Here,” he said, offering a hand to help her up.

She rebuffed the offer, pushing his hand away as she sat up and scrambled out from underneath him, giving him a close-up view of the jeans clinging to the shapely curve of her ass.

He shoved to his feet, set a hand on the wall to steady himself as his leg protested. Son of a bitch, his night wasn’t going at all the way he’d hoped. “You hurt?”

“I’m fine.” Her voice was every bit as cold as her skin had been.

“You’re bleeding,” he pointed out.

She didn’t answer, just swept past him on her way to the foot of the stairs. “Since Briar’s not in town, I’ll just borrow another change of clothes for the road and leave.”

“But he’s still out there, looking for you.”

Trinity paused on the lower stair and turned her head to meet his gaze. The weak light coming in from either side of the door showed her delicate features. And dammit, he might not know who she was but he couldn’t just let her leave if she was in danger. Not if she was a friend of Briar’s and DeLuca’s. His boss had asked him to look out for her and Brody wasn’t about to abandon her.

“Where will you go?” he pressed when she didn’t say anything.

She gave a tight shrug that told him it was none of his business. “I’ll manage.”

Annoyed by the brushoff when he was just trying to help, he followed her up the stairs. “Trinity.”

She stopped, her posture stiff, and didn’t turn to look at him.

“I don’t know what the hell you’re into here, but if you came looking for Briar then you obviously need help. DeLuca asked me to do what I can, so—”

“I don’t need your help.” And with that, the ice-princess swept up the stairs, leaving a trail of frost behind her.

The smart thing to do was just turn around and walk away. Head out to the street, climb into his truck and drive for the Shenandoah without looking back, leaving her and whatever mess she was in behind him.

Except dammit, he didn’t work that way.

“Damn stubborn woman,” he muttered to himself, climbing the last of the stairs just as Trinity disappeared into the master bedroom. His thigh was beyond pissed at him, the ache bone-deep. He stayed in the hallway, leaned back against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest. “What’s a Valkyrie?”

A soft snort answered him, from the depths of the walk-in closet. “That’s above your pay grade and security clearance.”

Nice
. He scowled. Who the hell was she? Why had she come for Briar’s help, specifically? Trinity obviously trusted her a lot. Damn, it stung his pride to have her refuse his offer of assistance. If she knew he was one of DeLuca’s guys, then she knew what sort of training he had. It was as though she didn’t trust his abilities.

“You know, as far as help goes, I’m not a bad guy to have around in a tight spot.” Even with a bum leg he was a hell of a lot better protection for her than nothing.

Hushed footsteps came toward him. A moment later Trinity appeared in the bedroom doorway, dressed in that snug sweater, the jeans looking like she’d painted them on, a pair of running shoes on her feet. Her short, inky hair was tucked back behind her ears and she’d rubbed away most of the blood from her face and neck but some still trickled down from her hairline.

“Look, it’s nothing personal, but I don’t know you.” She wiped absently at the blood on her temple and he frowned, reached out to catch her wrist when he saw how much blood was on her fingers. She was bleeding worse than he’d realized.

Trinity froze at his touch, and goose bumps rose on her forearm. Her skin was freezing.

This was ridiculous and he wasn’t going to stand here and let her bleed or pass out from hypothermia. “Come here,” he ordered, and began dragging her toward the hall bathroom. She resisted at first but he just pulled harder and she gave in with an annoyed huff.

In the bathroom he shut the door then flipped on the lights. She winced and squinted at the sudden brightness. When she opened her eyes and stared up at him, Brody got his first good look at her.

She appeared to be in her early to mid-thirties. Her eyes were a vivid, dark blue, surrounded by inky black lashes. Her hair was blue-black, cut into a sharp, jaw-length bob. The top of her head came up to his mouth, and blood welled from a gash in her scalp. Bruises were forming on the left side of her face as well, and it made him wonder what other injuries she had that he couldn’t see.

She stared right back at him, her expression and the tilt of her chin full of defiance. “I can take care of myself.”

Maybe, maybe not. And with a Mob assassin and his network targeting her, Brody didn’t like her chances going out alone. “You’re not going to be able to treat that slice properly by yourself.”

“I was going to take care of it before I left.”

He grasped her cold chin in his hand, stared into her eyes as he assessed her. Her pupils were evenly dilated but she’d taken one hell of a bump to the head. “You dizzy? Sick to your stomach?”

She pushed his hand away, gave him an impatient look. “No.”

“Fine, then let me stop the bleeding at least.”

She held his stare for another long moment then gave in, folding her arms over those luscious breasts and angling her body so that he could see the cut better. Brody opened the mirrored-medicine cabinet door above the sink and took the medical kit from the glass shelf. He grabbed a facecloth and ran it under some warm water, wrung it out before turning back to her.

“This is gonna sting,” he warned.

“Fine, go for it,” she said in a resigned tone.

Alrighty then.

He carefully parted her hair to get a better look at the gash. It was over two inches long, and resting atop a big goose egg in her scalp. He dabbed at it as gently as he could to clean the dried blood away but more welled up and trickled into her hair. “I’m gonna put antibiotic cream on it then use some liquid suture to close it.”

She didn’t answer so he got to work, pinching the edges of the wound together so he could squeeze the adhesive onto her skin. He held it there until it dried, then slowly released his grip. She hadn’t flinched or made a sound the entire time. “It’s holding for now, but you should definitely get this looked at and take it easy for a while.”

She moved away from him immediately and reached for the doorknob, paused to steady herself. “Thanks.”

Hell.
If she left with that head injury, he was worried she’d wind up dead. He expelled a harsh breath. “What’s the chance this Mob enforcer or any of his friends followed you here?”

“Less than five percent,” she answered without missing a beat.

“For real. I need to know the truth on this.”

“That is the truth. I switched vehicles twice after getting out of the lake and I’m sure no one followed me.”

Yet she wasn’t so certain about that, since she’d tackled him to the floor a few minutes ago. “How
did
you get out of the lake, by the way?”

“I swam.”

“You—” Brody stopped and smothered a dry chuckle as he imagined the scene playing out in his head. The car careening over the bank and into the water, her escaping the sinking vehicle and swimming for shore, then stealing two different vehicles and finding her way here. All the while suffering from near hypothermia and a head injury. He was becoming less annoyed and more intrigued by the woman every minute.