Raging Hard: A Stepbrother SEAL Romance (With bonus novel Based!) (26 page)

I crouched down at the edge of the woods, watching the warehouse. I didn’t see anyone patrolling, but I couldn’t wait too long to make sure. Plus, I was so angry it was almost physically impossible to sit still. I’d never gone into battle with so much anger built up inside me, because our drill instructors had taught us over and over that calm saved lives, but I couldn’t manage calm.

I was fury incarnate. I was raging hard, and I was going to bring every ounce of my fire down on them.

I made a break for it, heading toward a fire escape that snaked up along the side of the building. I made it without any problems and began to climb.

There were three landings. I skipped the first and second and stopped at the topmost window. I tested it, but it was locked. I reached into a pocket of my combat fatigues and pulled out a thin metal bar, shoving it into the space between the frame and the latch. With one quick push, I popped the latch, pushing the window upward.

I crept inside quietly. It was dark, with only the weak rays of sunlight illuminating the inside. I was in an office, empty and smelling vaguely of mildew and rot. The desk was overturned, papers scattered all over the ground, and the chairs were moldy. I guessed that it hadn’t been touched in a long time, and there was definitely a leak nearby. The ground seemed to flex under my feet.

I moved up toward the door and looked out. The hallway was similar, all papers strewn around and furniture left turned over. Bits of discarded wood and trash littered the space, and the walls were covered in graffiti. I listened for a minute but heard nothing, and so I moved out into the hall.

Up ahead I spotted a stairwell. The place was big on the inside, bigger than I had thought, and I was on what was clearly the executive floor. Or at least it had been the administrative area or something like that back before the factory had shut down. Based on the trash and the graffiti, I guessed that the warehouse was usually used by homeless people or drug addicts looking for a place to shoot up.

I stood at the top of the steps and looked down but saw nothing. As I got halfway down, moving silently as I went, I heard a noise, sharp and distinct in the otherwise quiet.

“Yeah,” the voice said, “just walking the upstairs.” There was a pause and then a radio crackling.

“Make it quick. Boss is back with the girl.”

Claire,
I thought, pulse jumping.

“Got it. Out.”

His footsteps began to ring out, coming up toward me. I took a deep breath, trying to beat back some of the rage I felt swirling inside me.

I moved faster than even I thought I could. I jumped over the banister and landed directly on top of him, my feet and legs smashing into his face and chest, knocking us both to the floor. I felt my body hit the steps and slide down, but I grabbed his leg to stop myself.

He seemed completely dazed and shocked. Before he could move, I had my gun out and the barrel pressed against his head.

“Don’t make a noise,” I said quietly.

He nodded, eyes wide with fear.

He was older than me by a few years and had a deep scar running down his face. He looked like a mercenary or a cheap cutthroat, which was usually the same thing. His deep brown eyes looked afraid, but he understood his situation. I knew exactly what kind of man he was, and I knew what he had done in the past.

Bad things, bad fucking things.

“Where is the girl?”

“Who?”

I hit him with the butt of the gun, snapping his head back. His nose was definitely broken as blood trickled out.

“Lie again and I’ll kill you. I’ll find her eventually with or without you.”

“Downstairs, first floor. There’s a room in the back of the machine shop. She’ll be there.”

“Thank you.”

I pulled the trigger and he slumped to the ground. There was no mercy, not for men that kidnapped girls. Not anymore. I was done taking it easy.

I moved after that, threading my way down the steps and out at the first floor. The factory workspace spread out before me, debris scattered all over the place. I crouched down near the entrance, hiding in the shadows, and watched. It was an open floor, and I could tell that there had been machines there at one point. I couldn’t tell what sort of factory it was, but it must have been busy at its peak.

I spotted two men with guns pacing the upper observation catwalk. Toward the back was another man guarding a single door.

I moved silently around the walls, sticking to the shadows, until I found a stairway that led up to the catwalk. I moved up the steps, crouching down at the top, and waited.

The first man came into view after a second. I put a bullet directly between his eyes, not even giving him a chance to cry out.

But the second man spotted him as he fell, ruining my plan.

“Levi?” he yelled out. I heard his boots pounding on the metal as he ran over.

Good enough. I put two bullets in him, too, sending him careening against the railing.

“Hey, what’s going on?” the guard by the door yelled.

I went back down the steps and braced myself on one knee, facing the warehouse floor. The third guard came into sight, and I fired, hitting him in the chest but only wounding him.

“Fuck!” he yelled and opened fire. The sound of automatic gunfire filled the room.

So much for stealth. I moved, getting a better angle on him, and put another two bullets in him, putting him down for good. I ran toward the door in the back just as two more men came out.   

I shot the first one, killing him instantly. The second one was faster, kicking my hand, making me lose my grip on the gun. My knife was out in my other hand in a second, flashing out at him. He ducked back, trying to get his pistol from his holster, but I was on him. We toppled into the back room as I plunged my knife into his neck.

I looked up and saw a series of doors, plus another guard. I rolled, pulling the body of the man I had stabbed on top of me as the guard opened fire. He missed for the most part, and the other bullets were thankfully stopped by the body’s own vest.

I pulled the gun from the man’s holster and returned fire, hitting the guard in the head. He dropped, and I rolled out from under the body.

These men weren’t normal locals. The more I looked at them, the more I was sure that they were hired muscle. I pulled up the sleeve on the arm of the man at the far end of the room and confirmed my suspicion: no tattoo.

I didn’t mind killing those who made murder their business. Sure, I was a lot like them, except I fought for freedom. They fought for the highest bidder.

I listened for a moment but caught no more sounds. Cautiously, I pushed open the door the guard had been standing in front of.

Gagged and bound to a chair in the middle of the room was Claire.

I had to control myself. I wanted to run right in, but I knew it could be a trap. I slowly moved inside, checking the corners. Claire’s eyes were wide, and I could tell she was trying to say something. I pulled the gag from her mouth.

“The mirror! He’s in there!”

I looked up and saw the mirror, obviously a one-way window.

“Stay here,” I said to her, and then I shot the window.

It shattered. I saw flashes of bodies scattering inside, and I quickly pursued them, jumping in through the shattered glass.

I could feel shards shove themselves into my skin as I came up in a quick rolling stop, but I didn’t care. I had one mission and one mission only: stop the Broken Hearts. I was fully in the throes of my blood lust, and nothing could stop me. Rage and anger swirled through my body, and I couldn’t think about anything except for finishing what I had started.

I went out the only door and saw them running away ahead. I followed, not bothering to call out.

Up ahead, I turned a corner and came to a screeching halt. Standing at the end of the hall were three men: Joshua, a man I recognized as Al, and Tommy, the man that ran the boat touring company.

Joshua was frantically trying to unlock the door in front of them as I slowly advanced, gun held out.

“Stop,” I said softly.

All three men looked at me and put their hands in the air. None of them were armed.

“This ends here,” I said.

“Okay. Okay. We’re done,” Joshua said. “Nobody has to die.”

“Your hired goons are all dead.”

“They were scum anyway.”

“You took Claire.”

Joshua was quiet for a second. “It was just business, Nathan. Only business.”

I clenched my jaw.

“Listen to him, son,” Tommy said, stepping forward. “It’s going to be okay. We only wanted to scare Mister Forester. We would never actually hurt the girl.”

“You told the pirates where to find us,” I said to him.

He nodded. “Yes. I’m sorry about that.”

I quickly took aim and shot him once. His knee exploded, and he collapsed onto the ground in agony.

I quickly aimed back at the other two. Their eyes were wide with shock and fear.

“Why Claire?” I asked. When neither of them answered, I yelled my question again.

“Motivation,” the man named Al said quickly. “Forester doesn’t care about anything but his money and his daughter.”

“What was your plan?”

“Blackmail. Get him to drop out of the deal in exchange for his daughter.”

I looked at Joshua. “Who are the Broken Hearts?”

He cringed. “We’re an old fraternity, a secret society. Or at least we were. Now we’re more like the local mafia.”

“Why do you want Forester out?”

“He’s dangerous. He fucks up the local economy everywhere he invests, bringing in foreign money and screwing over the people that lived in the town their whole lives. He’s done it many times in the past, and I couldn’t let him do it again.”

“We’re protecting our families,” Al said.

I stared at them quietly. The only sound was Tommy rolling side to side.

I walked closer to them, my body flooded with anger and rage. I wanted to kill these men so badly. These men were the ones who had orchestrated everything, who had started coming after us. They were the reason Claire saw me kill a man. They were the reason she was almost snatched outside her father’s club.

And for what, because they didn’t like Jonathan Forester’s business tactics? Nothing excused hurting an innocent girl. Nothing at all.

I took a deep breath. My rage was overwhelming me, threatening to drown me, and I knew it. I knew I needed to take a moment, regain the Zen I had lost. And as I did, as I calmed myself, Al decided to make his move.

He reached for his jacket. I watched, almost in slow motion, as he went for something hidden in his pocket. As soon as I saw the barrel emerge, I fired, putting two bullets in his chest. He dropped to the ground, the gun falling from his hand.

I wheeled on Joshua, who didn’t move an inch.

“I’m glad he made me do that,” I said to him quietly, “because I want to kill you all.”

“Please. You don’t have to do this.”

“You’re right. Killing you would cause me more trouble than it’s worth. The mercenaries don’t have families or people that care about them, but you people are a part of this place. You can’t just disappear.”

I lowered my gun but remained ready.

“Leave town and never come back. Take care of this mess and then leave. Otherwise, I will hunt you down, and I will end you.”

He nodded, terror in his eyes. “Okay.”

I turned and walked away.

I could have killed them, but it would have brought a lot of heat down on me. Fortunately, Al had made that decision easy for me. I knew that once they saw one of their own gunned down, they were going to keep quiet. These weren’t hardened criminals, as much as they liked to pretend they were. They were just scared men trying to save their dying way of life. Plus, who knew what kind of incriminating shit I could dig up with a cursory glance through the damn creepy factory.

They’d seen what I could do. I needed them to clean my mess up and get the fuck out, and that was all. They were more useful alive than dead.

Which was why I needed the battle calm. Otherwise, I made dumb decisions, emotional decisions that could cost me more pain in the future.

I retraced my steps and climbed calmly back through the window. Claire looked at me, and I flinched at the fear I saw there.

“You look . . . horrible.”

I looked down at myself. I was covered in blood, some of it my own.

“Shit. Sorry.”

“Untie me, idiot.”

I quickly did as she asked, and she threw her arms around my neck, crushing her body against me. I didn’t think I deserved it, but I returned her hug, breathing her smell deeply. What was left of my violent rage completely dissipated, returning to wherever it normally hid.

“Fuck, I’m so happy you’re okay,” I said to her.

“I love you,” she blurted out.

I pulled back, my eyes wide. She looked away, clearly embarrassed.

“I love you too,” I whispered.

And in that moment I knew I always had. Even when I first got a taste of her back in the club, before I knew who she was, I had loved her. When my bitch mother asked me to stay with them, I decided to do it only because I’d be closer to Claire. Because I loved her, I realized, and wanted to be near her. She was the only one I was willing to do anything for, to go so far for.

I kissed her, hard, and she kissed me back, wrapping her arms around me. I’d never been so uselessly and hopelessly intertwined with another person before. In the SEALs, you didn’t get close with anyone, because your future was totally controlled by Uncle Sam.

But with Claire, I had no choice. I couldn’t say no to her, just like I couldn’t predict my own future.

Finally, the kiss finished, she looked up at me with these wide eyes.

“Take me home, stupid,” she said.

“Okay.”

I whipped her up into my arms, and she laughed, hitting my chest. I carried her out of there, avoiding the bodies, and took her back home.