Inescapable (Men of Mercy Novel, A) (2 page)

BOOK: Inescapable (Men of Mercy Novel, A)
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Kai placed his elbows on the step behind him and stretched out his long legs.

Pretty town, pretty houses, pretty river . . .pretty fucking everything. Blergh.

And now he needed to decide, ASAP, whether he agreed with making Mercy—population barely topping ten thousand—the headquarters of Caswallawn International. Caswallawn . . .

Mike should be here, sharing in the spoils of the business they created. Instead, to honor and remember him, they’d named their holding company Caswallawn after his favorite Celtic god of war. Mike had been always been obsessed with the Celts and the early history of the British Isles—a strange interest for the son of a fiercely patriotic Army sergeant.

Thinking about Mike hurt too damn much, so Kai switched mental directions. As a company they’d been here for three years, renting an old warehouse off Main Street, partly because Sawyer wanted to come back to his hometown but mostly because the setup costs for the business had been a lot cheaper in Mercy than in Washington, D.C. Their meager savings had stretched a lot further here. He reluctantly admitted that the location wasn’t bad. It was only a thirty-minute drive from Dulles International and it was an easy commute for anyone from D.C. attending their personal-protection-training courses and corporate-team-building events.

They’d received the news the week before that the building and land they occupied were up for sale, and they had the option to buy. They had to decide to stay or relocate. The business side of his brain said that staying in Mercy was a no-brainer; the property was cheap, they’d avoid the relocation costs for both the business and his staff, and his clients liked the quaint, charming town.

Axl, the third partner in Caswallawn, who spent even less time in Mercy than he did, had voted to stay where they were. Since he was even more nomadic than Kai, the move didn’t affect him at all. Kai’s was the only dissenting voice.

It made no sense but, three years later, Kai still wasn’t used to the town, didn’t understand it. All he knew was that the moment he drove into Mercy a spot between his shoulder blades started to itch—one of those frustrating prickles in a place he just couldn’t reach. It pissed him off that this quaint little town made him feel angsty in a way that various missions in hostile places had never managed to do.

On the plus side, he didn’t live in Mercy on a permanent basis and, as per normal, he’d be leaving in less than a week. He rented a house here—apartments made him feel claustrophobic—and the business was here, but he spent his life on the road, leaving the day-to-day running of Cas to Sawyer. Sawyer was calm, decisive, clear-thinking, and, unlike Kai, had the patience and charm to deal with civilians. They’d defined their roles years ago: Sawyer managed the business side of Cas, overseeing the personal-protection-officer training and the teams of PPOs they hired out to whoever needed their ass protected and, more important, could afford their services.

He got paid to pass along his hard-earned-in-crappy-places combat and military skills to teach personal-security-detail tactics to SWAT officers, trainers, some military personnel, and security contractors. Most of his training was done overseas, for companies outside of the US. He trained mid to large groups of guys—sometimes sprinkled with a few woman—and taught them how to keep their colleagues, civilians, and themselves from becoming human sieves in the many hellholes of the world.

Axl, the third spoke in their wheel, was in charge of Morrigans, their Kidnapping and Ransom Crisis Response division. They each had their space in the business and it worked. Rather well.

Movement under a shrub to his right brought Kai back to the here and now. He watched, amused, as a wide-eyed kitten eyeballed him. He carefully stretched out his hand and eventually felt tiny whiskers brush his hand and the rasp of a surprisingly rough tongue on the pad of his index finger.

The kitten cocked its head as his finger made contact with the area just below its ear and he heard the rumble of its purr, tough-sounding for such a little guy. He’d never had much to do with animals—not many kids raised as he was did. It had been hard enough feeding, raising, and looking after himself. He hadn’t the time or the resources to look after anything else.

Kai rubbed the kitten’s back, his hand longer than its spine. Scooping it up, he held the tiny body against his chest, then looked up at the sound of the front door opening down the road. He turned his head to see a young woman with a toddler on her hip walk out onto her small porch, a cup of coffee in her free hand. Her blond hair was mussed and her bare legs beneath her belted robe were long, slim, and tanned. She turned as a man stepped into the space behind her, ready for his morning run, and placed his hands on her hips, turning her around to kiss her mouth. He said something, and she laughed. He grinned before kissing the child’s head and walking away from the house to do some stretches next to the shiny Lexus that sat in the driveway. His branded T-shirt stretched across his paunchy stomach and his perfectly straight, blindingly white teeth flashed as he carried on the conversation from his position on the driveway.

Look at him, Kai thought, with his perfect house and his blond, beautiful wife. His shiny car and his cute kid. Getting some exercise in before going off to his job in finance or insurance or sales, so damn smug in his belief that he was living the dream.

The itch intensified and Kai rolled his shoulders before putting his hand down the back of his T-shirt to try to reach the spot. He hissed a quiet curse when the prickles moved just out of reach.

Unlike Lexus-boy, he didn’t have anything tethering him to this town—no wife, no child, no property. He glanced down at the kitten, who’d fallen asleep in the crook of his arm. No animals. He hadn’t had the opportunity to go to a fancy college and he’d had more doors shut in his face than that guy could imagine. He’d scratched and clawed and kicked and pushed his way through life, and his path had never been paved. His entire life had been a freakin’ battle.

A battle. The word echoed in his head and he rubbed a hand over his face. And maybe that was the reason for his recent funk, his sleepless nights, why he was more churlish than usual. He had nothing to rage against, no major obstacle to overcome. He had everything he ever thought he needed, and yet he felt more unsettled than ever before. He’d always expected his life to make complete sense when he was finally financially secure, when he was seen to be, and was, successful.

Kai looked at the jogger’s retreating back and shook his head, wishing he could also tell Mr. Happy that his pretty little town sucked balls. And what, he silently demanded, admittedly bitching like a cheated whore, what was with the town council’s decision to keep all franchise and chains stores out of the town? Why should he have to drive fifteen minutes to get a Big Mac? Whose stupid-ass idea was that? Maybe if they slapped up a couple of strip malls and some generic fast food joints the town would look like a town and not like a freaking Hallmark movie set.

A town like this was okay for dreaming about when you were a kid—along with the parents and the big backyard and the goofy dog—but the reality of it made him feel nauseous. Buying the premises Cas was housed on would mean tying himself to Mercy and putting down roots, and he didn’t think he could do that. He’d never been tied to anyone or anything and the notion of settling in this town—settling
for
this town—turned the itch into a burn.

It was all just too much cute. He gently lowered the kitten to the step beside him, watching as it stretched in the early morning sunlight, thinking that he was SEAL, ex–Team Six. A hard-ass, hard-bodied, hard-minded man who took no shit, from anyone, ever. He rubbed a spot under the kitten’s chin and a look of bliss appeared on its face. He was an insensitive asshole. He’d been told that many times and he believed it. He didn’t know how to cute. Or cope with pretty. And normal.

The kitten meowed, nudged his hand, and cocked his head when Kai ran his knuckle over its ear.

And, dammit, he was sick of not being able to buy a Big Mac, a decent cup of coffee, or scratch the damned itch on his back.

Less than a week, he reminded himself. On Friday he’d be on a flight to Aberdeen, Scotland, to train the security team on one of the world’s biggest oil exploration ships. Surely he wouldn’t go nuts in five days.

“So, are you going to sit on your ass all day glaring into space or are we going to run?” Sawyer demanded from somewhere above his head. “Hey, little guy, where did you come from?”

Kai presumed Sawyer was talking to the cat and not to him. He abruptly dropped his hand and tipped his head back to look up at Sawyer. “About time you made an appearance. That stuff you drink every morning that turns you into a human is losing its potency.”

“It’s affected by your particular brand of horseshit,” Sawyer replied on a yawn. “My life is so much easier when you’re halfway across the world.”

The kitten moved away and hopped down the steps to the porch.

Kai rose to his feet in an easy movement and followed Sawyer to the road. After stretching, he lifted his eyebrows at Sawyer. “Think you can keep up with me, Nancy?”

“Screw you, grandpa,” Sawyer replied. “I whipped your ass in that triathlon.”

“You got lucky. And I had a cold.”

Sawyer rolled his eyes. “That pansy-assed excuse again? Face it, you’re getting old and slow.”

“Face it, you’re an asshole.”

Satisfied that they’d fulfilled their duty to start off their morning by insulting each other, they hit the road, long legs easily eating up the tar.

Chapter Two

SawyersFutureWife: Yeah, get well Ms. Sturgiss. And, ladies, for an early morning treat—something other than Flick’s muffins—get up early and watch Sawyer run the route along the river. It’s two for the price of one at the moment because one of his far-too-often absent partners is in town and is running with him. Holycrapadoodle! Smokin’ hot!

***

“Three months,” Sawyer said. “I think that’s one of the shortest stints you’ve had away from Cas and Mercy. I take it that Sheikh What’s-His-Name is happy?” Their sneakers slapped the pavement in downtown Mercy, the air holding a bite that suggested that autumn was not playing around.

“He doesn’t have any complaints,” Kai replied, his breathing unchanged even though they’d completed four of the five miles of their customary early-morning run. “I’m worried though.”

“Why?”

“I had to condense five months of intensive training into three months, and I while I think his people are good, I don’t know that they’re good enough.”

“That’s why we got him to sign that waiver.”

“A waiver won’t be worth jack shit if he gets taken out,” Kai muttered.

“It won’t mean anything to him but it covers our corporate ass. Is he in any immediate danger?”

Kai lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug. “He deals in oil and arms in third world countries. There’s always a risk.” He’d done his part, Kai told himself, again. He’d provided the best in close-protection training he could in the limited time he had. Personally, Kai thought that the sheikh should hire professional PPOs—preferably Caswallawn’s personal protection officers—but the stubborn, suspicious sheikh was adamant that he wanted his own people acting as his bodyguards. Kai had argued that he wasn’t fully convinced about their ability to protect him, but Sheikh Aban Armanjani’s decision was non-negotiable.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have taken the job,” Kai said, voicing his niggling worry.

“He paid us the same amount to train his four guys as we would earn from two full training courses with twenty cadets each. It was a no-brainer,” Sawyer said.

He knew that, just as he knew that there was nothing more he could do, Kai told himself. He resolved to let it go.

“Business is good,” Kai commented as they thundered through Mitchell’s Park, pushing aside his worry about the sheikh’s safety. “We picked up the JackSon Corporation account in Iraq and that’s twenty more PPOs we need to employ.”

“Already on it,” Sawyer told him.

Of course he was, Kai thought. Sawyer could juggle a hundred balls in the air and not let any of them fall.

“Have you made a decision about staying in Mercy yet?”

“No.” Kai lifted up his hand when he saw Sawyer was about to object. “I’m not going to make an impulsive choice. They gave us three months to make a decision about buying the property and I’m not going to be rushed.”

“The guys don’t want to leave Mercy.”

Translation: I don’t want to leave Mercy.

Kai kept his voice even. “That will be a factor I will take into consideration.”

Kai heard Sawyer’s frustrated sigh and wished he could just make the damn decision. He knew what he should do, knew the answer, but he just couldn’t spit it out, not yet. They were partners, sure, but it was also his dream, his business, his money, his risk. He could take all the damn time he needed.

“I just don’t understand why you’re hesitating.” Sawyer pushed a frustrated hand through his blond hair.

Because I might come to like it? Because I might want to settle down? Grow some roots? Because doing all of the above scares the shit out of me?
Sawyer might be his best friend, but he wasn’t about to share that with him. Kai wouldn’t share that with anyone. Some things—most things—he simply had to work out for himself.

“Drop it, Lawson,” Kai ordered and ignored Sawyer’s stubborn face.

After running another klick in silence, Kai instinctively turned left at the end of the road to head back to the Caswallawn building and his own house, which was two blocks away. He frowned when Sawyer turned right. Kai put on brakes, slapped his hands on his hips and yelled at his friend’s retreating back. “Where the hell are you going?”

“I want to drop in on the bakery. Coffee, cake,” Sawyer shouted back.

Why?
Kai rolled his eyes. The bakery had dreadful coffee and the baked goods were uninspiring. There had to be a girl involved, he decided. Sawyer had never met a woman he couldn’t charm into bed. Kai was curious to see who had caught his eye this time, but there was work on his desk waiting for his attention, decisions that needed to be made, and he should head back, hit the shower, and then his office. He had a pile of paperwork to get through and he was grateful for it; keeping busy would make his time in Mercy go faster. Because, God, he really couldn’t wait to leave.

What the hell is wrong with you this morning, Manning? Get a fucking grip. You sound like a whiny wimp.

Irritated with himself, Kai rapidly caught up with Sawyer and they slowed their pace to a slow jog and then to a walk as they approached the bakery. Kai lifted his dark eyebrows in surprise. The place had undergone a major transformation since his last visit to Mercy three—no, four—months before. Instead of the dingy gray he remembered, it was now painted a sunny yellow and had a couple of black wrought-iron tables and chairs, all of which were occupied, on the pavement. The fire-red door was flanked by two lime-green pots with acid-pink flowers—flowers that he wouldn’t be able to name with a gun to his head—spilling over the side. It looked bright and welcoming and, best of all, he could smell warm bread and good coffee.

They’d also renamed the place, and he squinted at the colorful sign above the door. Artsy Tartsy.

More cute in a town that really didn’t need it.

“What happened to this place?” he asked.

“The Sturgiss cousins, Pippa and Flick, inherited it from their grandmother. They started renovating it a couple of days after you left for Saudi. It’s been revamped, inside and out.” Sawyer said.

“’Bout time.” If the wares inside were now as good as the place looked and the coffee smelled, he’d be ending all of his morning runs in this place. “Are either of the cousins the girl you have your eye on?”

Sawyer shuddered. “Hell, no. I’ve known those two brats all my life. I just wanted coffee. Scouts’ honor.”

“You were never a Scout.”

Sawyer ignored him, so Kai followed his friend into the busy bakery and instinctively moved to one side, turning so that his back wasn’t to the door. Because he was a paranoid SOB, he did a quick scan of all the customers, dismissed them all as non-threats, and then looked down to the display cases and sucked in his breath.

There was a God. In the various levels of hell he’d endured he’d frequently doubted the presence of an omnipotent being, but right now, staring at the assortment of pastries, Danishes, and cupcakes that he just knew would melt in his mouth, he believed.

“Gimme,” he said to Sawyer, pointing to the chocolate cupcakes. “Black coffee and two of those.”

“Only if you agree to keep the business in Mercy,” Sawyer demanded with a grin.

Kai gave him a discreet middle finger as they made their way up to the counter. Kai shook his head as the people in front of them walked off with their coffee and donuts. If you were going to overdose on fat and sugars, why mess around with donuts? Go big or go home. Chocolate, at least, had some antioxidant properties.

Sawyer, being Sawyer, turned on the charm and his drawl and Kai rolled his eyes when he all but batted his eyelashes at the young server.

“Flick around, Tiff?” Sawyer asked after placing their order.

“She went in the back to get more cupcakes She should be out in a sec.” Tiffany pulled her eyes off Sawyer, gave Kai an intense up-and-down look, and when she met his eyes again, he noticed that hers were far too adult for that fresh face. God, all he wanted was a cup of coffee and a cupcake and not to be eye-screwed by a young woman who was at least ten years younger than him.

He could read the invitation in her body language as easily as he could the specials on the brightly colored board behind her head. She was young—too young—but she looked like she knew what she wanted.

And it looked like he was the only item on the menu. Kai wasn’t even remotely tempted. Yet again.

There was seriously something wrong with him; what the hell was up with his hesitation? He was thirty-four and single, he woke up every morning with a hard-on tenting the sheets, and his relationship with his hand was at an all-time high. Woman still found him attractive and weren’t shy about letting him know.

Hell, he could’ve re-joined the Mile High Club somewhere over the Atlantic yesterday if he’d been willing to take the sexy flight attendant up on her offer to blow his mind. “I’ll rock your world,” she’d whispered in his ear as her fingers tap-danced their way up his thigh. She’d been gorgeous, tall, blond, and stacked, and, because he wasn’t a saint, he’d considered it. But while his dick had been jumping up and down yelling, “Pick me! Pick me!” his brain had rolled over, yawned, and gone to sleep. His heart, as it had been taught so long ago, just stayed the hell out of any decision that involved a woman.

He’d thought about it for about ten seconds while he looked into those bright blue eyes before gently refusing her. He hadn’t had the energy for the contortions that would be required for sex in that rabbit-hutch space. It would have to be quick and clinical and, frankly, he could get quick and clinical from beating off in the shower. Without the risk of popping a disc in his back.

He’d refused a lot of offers of sex lately.

He’d lost his virginity at fifteen and after two decades of regular sex, he wanted it to be more than a one-time encounter with an empty-headed stranger who liked his packaging and his package. But his new resolve to avoid casual sex was problematic since he wasn’t interested in a relationship and he didn’t want to—or know how to—make space in his life for a woman. He’d always found it difficult to trust, to let anyone inside the fortress he’d built around his thoughts and feelings.

Besides, no self-respecting woman would have anything to do with the man he was beneath his muscles and his okay-looking face. Behind the façade of being a civilized entrepreneur he was still a street rat, a teenage hustler, a double-dealing pseudo-gangster, and the special-ops soldier who’d seen, and done, far too much bad shit far too early in his life.

They’d run like hell.

“Stop distracting my staff, Sawyer!”

Kai whipped his head around to find the source of the melodious voice and saw a woman holding a tray of freshly baked red velvet cupcakes. Resisting the urge to stuff his face, he looked up and saw the sexiest mouth he’d ever laid eyes on. He had a vague impression of long, tawny hair pulled back into a no-nonsense ponytail, a trim body, and light eyes, but his own eyes were having trouble moving off her mouth. It was wide and unpainted with a natural pout that had the blood in his head rocketing south. Images of exactly where he’d like to see those lips started flashing through his head and Kai forced himself to do a few rapid multiplication tables to keep from embarrassing himself.

He stood and stared at her, knowing that his own mouth was half open and that his eyes were probably glazed. He wanted her. Under him, over him, any damn way he could get her. As soon as possible.

This, he realized with fascinated horror, was one woman that he’d have difficulty saying no to.

Kai felt Sawyer’s elbow in his ribs and he blinked, slowly turning his head away from her mouth and back to Sawyer’s face. “What?”

Sawyer lifted his eyebrows. “Flick Sturgiss, meet Kai Manning, one of my partners.”

Flick Sturgiss? This was the Sturgiss brothers’ baby sister, of whom Sawyer frequently spoke? From the way Sawyer talked, Kai had expected her to be about fifteen, plump with baby fat, and wearing braces. Not this woman in her late twenties who had him wanting to adjust his pants. Not certain that he could enunciate the right words in the right order, Kai just lifted his sweaty head in her direction. Aqua-green-blue mermaid eyes locked onto his and, once again, the room and everyone in it simply disappeared.

His thoughts immediately went to those long legs wrapping around his waist, his hand fisted in that long hair, pulling her head back so that he could ravage her mouth, her throat, taste that flawless skin. His other hand would be on her ass, sliding up underneath those denim shorts. . . .

Kai felt himself hardening at the thought, and only years of practicing self-control over his body kept him from tenting his athletic shorts.

You have to keep it tidy, Manning.

Flick looked away from him and placed her tray on the counter and Kai pulled in some much needed air.
What the hell just happened?
He felt like he’d just stepped on and detonated a landmine.

“Nice to meet you, Kai,” she said in a neutral voice, her eyes looking just past his head. Neutral or not, that voice sounded like it was designed for a bedroom, for phone sex, for a bordello. “Tiff, can you put these in the display case, please?” She turned back to Kai. “Did Tiff take your order?”

Since she was looking at him, Kai scratched the side of his head and tried to think. Had she? He had no idea.

She lifted her eyebrows at Sawyer. “I think it’s a bit early for your friend. Order? Is it in?”

Sawyer grinned. “Yep.”

Flick nodded and turned in response to someone calling a greeting from the door. Sawyer’s fist shot out and nailed Kai in his bicep and he got the message: Find your balls and act like an adult. Good plan.

He was just trying to think of something to say that would show Flick that he wasn’t a complete moron when Tiffany handed her a phone from her side of the counter. “It’s Pippa.”

Kai heard her soft curse and watched as she lifted the phone to her ear. After listening for a minute, Flick closed her eyes and sighed wearily. “Let me talk to him,” she said before hauling in a deep breath.

“You are selfish and self-absorbed. . . . Dammit, Rufus, why are we having this conversation again? This can’t go on, Ru. We cannot keep on running around after you, hauling you out of dives and meat markets. It’s not okay.”

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