The Alpha Billionaire Club Trilogy (51 page)

I
sat
on the couch in the living room of the FBI safe house, waiting for Evers to make a move. Two playing cards lay facedown on the coffee table in front of me beside four other cards, these face-up. For the past hour and a half, we’d been playing Texas Hold 'em.

It was a good thing we weren't playing for real money, because Evers was kicking my ass. I was terrible. I’d never played much poker, and I’d learned that Evers played a lot. The safe house didn't have cable, and I still didn't have my phone, so our options for entertainment were limited to cards or staring at the brown and yellow striped wallpaper in the living room.

Poker with Evers was much more entertaining than staring at the walls, and it helped me pretend that the atmosphere in the safe house wasn't quite so tense. Agent Tierney paced around the kitchen like a caged animal, every so often stopping to have a hushed conversation on his cell phone. The two FBI agents from that morning rotated through the house, keeping an eye out for any threat.

Agent Tierney seemed to make them nervous. Every time he paced close to them, they got stiff and hyper-alert, as if determined to show him what a good job they were doing. I wondered why Tierney would have assigned two such junior agents. From what I’d learned so far, Tsepov was no one to mess with. The young agents gave the impression they’d drop their guns and run if a real threat showed up.

It didn't make sense, but then a lot about the situation didn’t make sense. The day felt like it lasted forever, punctuated by seemingly endless rounds of poker, then war, then solitaire, which Evers and I played together, arguing over strategy the entire time. He liked to peek at the cards, and I said that was cheating.

Our bickering got on Agent Tierney's nerves and he snapped at us to
shut up
more than once, but we ignored him. At one point, Evers got a text. He looked at his phone briefly, put it away and whispered to me, “Axel’s out of the meeting. Everything's good. He’s going to do a few more things, and then he'll be back."

A few minutes later, Tierney approached us and said to Evers, “You’re staying until I can release your brother and Emma. I can't have you Sinclairs coming and going all the time, attracting attention. We should be able to make an arrest soon. Until then, you stay."

I expected Evers to argue, but he shrugged his shoulders and said, “Fine with me. You leaving?"

Tierney gave a short nod in response. "Axel sent me the audio from his meeting with Harper. I've got work to do. You two stay put. Axel should be back soon. I want everybody to hold tight until we bring Harper in."

"Will do," Evers said, his tone just sarcastic enough to irritate Tierney, but not overt enough to give Tierney an excuse to get mad. I suppressed a smile. The day had been so boring that I might have welcomed some drama, but I didn’t want Evers to get into trouble. Since Tierney was the reason I was so mind-numbingly bored, I was happy to watch Evers poke at him.

Wisely choosing not to respond to Evers’s taunt, Tierney grabbed his phone and keys off the kitchen counter, had a short word with the agents by the front door, and left, slamming the door behind him.

"I'm sorry you got tangled up in this,” I said. "The safe house kind of sucks."

Evers tossed his head back and laughed, looking so much like Axel that my heart tightened in my chest. “It seriously does. I know the FBI's budget isn’t huge, but this place is miserable. Or maybe I'm just spoiled. When Sinclair Security does a safe house, it’s nothing like this."

After seeing Axel's lake house and his penthouse, I wondered what a safe house Axel designed would look like. I hoped I wasn't going to find out. We'd been here less than twenty-four hours, and I was already thoroughly sick of safe houses.

Evers looked at me and said, “Another game?”

I rolled my eyes. I was tired of card games. “Can you tell Axel to bring a book? Or a tablet? Something?”

“You’re done playing cards with me?” Evers asked, raising his eyebrows in mock surprise.

“Not if it’s the only thing to do,” I said. “But anything else would be fun at this point.”

“Obviously, you haven’t been on many stakeouts,” Evers said, shaking his head. “In this job, you get used to boredom.”

“Tell me about your favorite case,” I said, curious about the kind of thing they did at Sinclair Security.

“Our clients are confidential,” Evers said. “But I can think of a few jobs I can share without giving too much away.”

Evers proceeded to launch into a story about protecting the mistress of an extremely wealthy businessman who also wanted Sinclair Security to spy on said mistress, who he suspected was cheating. She had been—with his twin sons, who were working against him to conspire with the board of the family company to send the old man into an early retirement. Ouch.

After that, he told me about a hostage rescue in a South American country he refused to identify. It turned out that Sinclair Security had a hostage recovery team so respected that the FBI often consulted with them. He was halfway through recounting a protection detail involving a starlet and her yappy Chihuahua when the front door opened.

I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding at the sight of Axel in the doorway. He’d changed from his suit into jeans and a dark gray sweater while he’d been gone. He looked hot in a suit, but I loved casual Axel just as much. At the sight of the bag of take-out Chinese in his hand, I had the fleeting and useless wish that we were alone and none of the rest of this mess was happening.

I missed dating Axel, cooking with him and pretending to watch a movie while we made out on the couch. I liked Evers, but I wanted him—and the two FBI agents—gone.

More than that, I missed seeing Axel relaxed. I rose to meet him at the door. He pulled me in for a quick kiss, but his attention was on Evers. Evers gave him a slight nod and Axel tipped his head forward. Their silent brother-speak was annoying. I had no idea what they were saying to each other, but I could feel the tension in Axel’s shoulders. He gave me a squeeze around the waist and let me go, saying only, “Let’s eat while it’s hot.”

We ate dinner in silence, the FBI agents trading off, one eating while the other walked the perimeter of the house from the inside. With them sitting at the table, none of us wanted to discuss anything important. Axel talked shop with Evers, discussing ongoing cases in shorthand to protect the clients, thus leaving me completely out of the conversation.

It was rude and frustrating. Axel usually had better manners than to shut someone out of a conversation, especially when that someone was me. In another situation, I would have confronted him about it, but I was feeling so off balance, I let it go. I was cranky from being trapped in the little house, and I knew he wasn’t feeling any more relaxed than I was.

We played cards again after dinner, though at that point I barely bothered to pay attention. Funny how boredom could erode fear. I was still scared, and I knew I was in danger, but the monotony of sitting in the same room for hours, waiting for something to happen, was almost as bad as being afraid.

Not long after nine o'clock, Axel stood and said, “Bedtime. I'm exhausted. Emma, you tired?"

It was the first thing he’d said to me in over an hour. He and Evers had been playing poker for the past two hours, locked in a battle for a pile of pennies they’d found in a drawer. Neither of them had noticed when I’d dropped out of the game. I wasn’t used to Axel ignoring me. Knowing that the house was probably bugged, I couldn’t tell if he was really ignoring me or if it was a show for the agents or our eavesdroppers. Since I couldn’t ask, I tried to relax and let it go, but with every minute that passed, the knot in my stomach got tighter.

I wanted my phone. I wanted to talk to Summer. I wanted to go home. Since none of that was going to happen anytime soon, and I
was
tired, though I’d done nothing all day, I got up and followed Axel to the second floor, with Evers behind me.

At the top of the stairs, Axel halted and leaned into his brother, pulling me close so I could hear his almost inaudible whisper.

“Keep your things in your bag, and sleep in your clothes. I want to be ready to move."

Evers raised an eyebrow at Axel. For a second, I thought he was going to question Axel's orders, but he didn't. He nodded his head and turned to the room opposite ours. I followed Axel into the master bedroom and went straight into the bathroom, suddenly desperate to wash my face and get ready for bed.

Remembering Axel’s orders, I carefully repacked my toiletries and makeup before I left the bathroom. Tucking the bags back into the duffel Evers had brought, I changed for bed, trading my cords and sweater for a long sleeved t-shirt and yoga pants. Axel sent a pointed look at the sneakers I’d left on the floor. I raised my eyebrows at him in disbelief. I got sleeping in our clothes, but he didn’t want me to wear shoes to bed, did he?

He pointed at the shoes, then at my feet before he went to the bathroom. Fine, I’d wear the shoes to bed. I was annoyed with Axel, but if he wanted me to wear the shoes to bed, he must have a good reason. I put them on, tying the laces securely, and lay down on top of the covers. As tired as I was, I didn’t think I’d be able to sleep.

Axel climbed into bed beside me. For a moment, I thought he was going to stay there on his side of the bed, leaving me on my own side, alone. The whole day had left me feeling unsettled, and Axel getting into bed without touching me just made it worse. Tears blurred my vision as I stared at the shadowed ceiling. I felt weirdly homesick, the exact same hollow, lonely feeling in my chest I’d had the summer I’d gone to sleep-away camp when I was eight. I’d missed my family with a desperation I’d never felt for the entire three weeks I was gone. Just then, lying beside Axel but not
with
him, I wanted my mom and dad, my brothers and little sister. I wanted my normal life back.

With a hard exhalation of breath, Axel reached over and rolled me into him, settling me half on top of him and tucking my head into his neck. He didn’t say a word, but he stroked my hair back from my face, his fingers tugging lightly at my scalp, the gentle affection soothing my tension better than any words. I drifted into an uneasy sleep, comforted by Axel’s touch and the beat of his heart beneath my ear.

E
verything
about this fucking mess had me on edge. It was bad enough that I'd had to listen to Harper basically say that he planned to kill Emma to get her out of the way, but being stuck in this ridiculous excuse for a safe house was grating on my last nerve.

Every instinct told me we needed to get out from under Tierney's control. The only thing that held me back was Emma. She was tied to the FBI, on record as their informant. I could take care of myself, but until I was absolutely sure I could prove we had a good reason, I wasn't prepared to drag her into open defiance against Agent Tierney and the FBI.

So we stayed in the little safe house, and every second that passed cranked my nerves tighter. I’d barely talked to her all night. I'd wanted to, but nothing I had to say could be said with the house bugged. I'd settled for playing cards, then holding her close and feeling her fall asleep beside me.

I must have drifted off, though I'd intended to stay awake all night. A creak on the stairs woke me. Adrenaline slammed into my brain, washing away every vestige of sleep in an instant. Suddenly alert, I rolled from the bed, gun in hand. Putting my back to the wall beside, I waited. Across the hall, I heard the metallic sound of a door latch click, then a mechanical, racking, coughing sound—the sound of a suppressed weapon firing.

In the movies, silencers sounded like nothing more than
pft
, as if screwing in a silencer turned a gun into a blow dart. In real life, it didn't so much silence the sound of a gunshot as alter it and make it not quite as loud. If a killer was truly concerned with being quiet, he used a blade or his hands. Whoever was here, they planned to take us all out and weren’t overly worried we’d hear them coming.

Questions crowded my mind. What had happened to the two FBI agents we’d left downstairs? Had Evers been on the wrong end of the silenced bullet? Part of me wanted to check on him, but I knew better. If Evers had been shot, I wouldn't do Emma any good if I got myself killed trying to find out. Evers was wearing body armor, and he was smart. I’d take care of him once the immediate threat was neutralized.

The door to the master bedroom swung open, inch by inch, and I raised my gun. The barrel of a weapon cleared the doorway, followed by a shadowed form dressed all in black, a balaclava covering the head, concealing everything but the eyes. Not Evers. I put my gun to the intruder’s temple, then saw a familiar weapon rise to press against the back of his head.

That
was Evers. With my brother next to me, we had the situation under control. The intruder whirled to face us, his gun raised. Before he could get off a shot, Evers and I both fired. The intruder collapsed to the floor in a heap, his head thunking against the foot of the bed. Emma sat up, startled from sleep, her blue eyes wide and panicked.

"Axel?" She asked, scared, but aware enough to keep her voice low.

"Stay down," I said.

Emma rolled to her stomach and held her breath. I listened to the house. No movement. All was silent, as if we were the only ones there. That wasn’t a good sign for the agents we’d left downstairs. An hour before we’d come up to bed, the two agents from the night before had returned to relieve the agents who had been on duty all day. All four of them were no more than a year or two out of Quantico, and they had so little experience, I hadn't paid them much attention. I hoped they were still alive.

A whiff of smoke hit my nose. Fire, downstairs.

Leaving the body on the floor, I crossed to the bed in swift strides.

"Let's go," I said, helping Emma off the bed. I grabbed one duffel bag and handed Evers the other. If they got in the way, we’d leave them, but they might come in handy. “Stay between us, Emma,” I murmured. “If I tell you to do something, do it, no questions."

"Okay,” she said, stepping behind me and tucking her tall frame against me as if trying to make herself as small a target as possible. I loved a lot of things about Emma Wright, and her intelligence was at the top of the list.

Evers moved into place behind her, using his body to shield hers as we moved to the top of the stairs. I didn’t want to rush headlong into danger on the first floor, but every second that passed, the smoke filtering up the stairwell got thicker. I didn't think we had much time to waste. Flames had already engulfed the back hall to the garage and most of the kitchen by the time we hit the bottom step. A body lay collapsed by the kitchen table, too close to the flames. One of the young FBI agents. Another body was facedown in the living room. The second agent.

From behind me, Evers said, "I'll check them; see if we're alone."

I shifted to tuck Emma into my side and made my way to the front door. We had backup in the neighborhood, but not much. Evers joined us at the front door, saying, “They're both dead. First floor is clear."

We had to get out of the house, but I took one more second to make a call.

“Status?” I asked when the phone was answered in our control room at Sinclair Security.

"No answer from Phillips," Billy said. “His line went dead ninety seconds ago. I've been trying to reconnect."

“We’ve got two agents down and a fire in the house," I said. “We've got to get out of here, even if we don't have any backup. Send a pickup. Look for my phone in the system in a minute.”

"I'm on it,” Billy said and hung up.

Quickly, I reactivated the GPS on my phone, shoved it in my pocket, and opened the front door, my gun raised, ready to shoot. The yard appeared deserted. I didn't like taking Emma out into the open without knowing who might be waiting for us. There was cover between the landscaping and the houses next door, but it still felt too exposed.

Evers left Emma’s back again and disappeared into the night. With my arm around her, I ushered her across the yard to the side of the house and into the neighbor’s backyard. It was hard to see where we were going, but it was far less conspicuous than we would have been if we’d taken the sidewalk. Evers rejoined us two houses over.

"There were two more at the back of the house,” he said. “Both out.”

“Dead?" I asked, feeling Emma flinch at my side.

"Negative," Evers said. “Out cold. I didn't want to draw attention by firing outside."

"Billy's sending a pickup our way. Still no word from Phillips."

"The gazebo was empty," Evers said. “I took a quick look, but I couldn't find him.”

I didn't like that. Phillips was one of my best guys, an excellent operative and a good man. If he'd been awake and functional, Phillips never would've left his post. I'd have to worry about it later. For now, my job was to get Emma to safety. We kept to the shadows, using the darkness for cover as we crept through the silent neighborhood, waiting for the hum of an engine that would mean rescue.