In Jack's Arms

  He peeked in on Mattie before descending the stairs and found Finn standing in the shadows near the front window. A highly decorated sniper with a list of confirmed kills that had made him a legend among a tightly knit group of elite operators, Finn was the type of man who could remain perfectly still and focused for days if necessary.

  "It looks like that loan sharking bastard came through on his promise to speak with the real boss of Houston." His brother's gravelly voice carried through the darkness. "Forty minutes ago, two Russians slipped into the alley. They're out there now smoking cigarettes." Finn paused. "One of them only has three fingers."

  "Bet there's an interesting story to that one," Jack murmured as he took a spot near Finn. "How did you know they were part of the Russian outfit?"

  "The jewelry," he said softly. "The shoes. The car." With a gesture that Jack nearly missed, Finn pointed to the end of the street. Because the house sat on a cul-de-sac there was only one way in and one way out and Besian's men were watching it. "The Albanian crew made a shift change right before the Russians showed up. I recognize two of them from the night Pops got into that scrape outside the bar."

  Jack surveyed the situation. "Feels wrong to depend on criminals to keep Abby safe."

  "We don't pick the men we go to war with, Jack. Besides, the enemy of my enemy, right?"

  "That's what worries me most. Besian won't fuck Abby over but the other one?"

  "Nikolai Kalasnikov is a dangerous man," Finn agreed. "But he's quiet and he's smart. Something tells me he'll find a way to use this to his advantage."

  "If there's a power play to be made, he'll take it. I worry Abby might get caught in the crossfire."

  "I don’t think that's his style. Hell—he came to Kelly and gave him Trevor on a silver platter even when Kelly was training to fight against Sergei. I've seen him with his wife. I've seen the way he protects his friends and hers. He won't put an innocent woman like Abby in harm's way."

  "I hope to hell you're right." Jack tapped his brother's arm. "Go get some rest. Morning will be here soon enough."

  Finn backed away from the window. "I'm taking Mattie with me in the morning. I've been thinking about offering him a part-time job. This is as good a time as any to make it official. Unless you feel differently?"

  "No. I was actually going to bring it up to you." Glad his brother spotted the same potential in Mattie, he said, "The kid loves it at the gym. He's great with people. I think he needs the chance to earn a paycheck separate from his family."

  "He told me he wants to move out on his own." Finn kept his voice deliberately low, almost as if he feared Abby overhearing. "I got the feeling Mattie wants to strike out and make a go of it."

  "What did you say?" Jack hoped Finn hadn't put him in an awkward position with Abby. Knowing how protective she was of Mattie, she would blow a gasket if she suspected they had been encouraging her brother to move out of her house.

  "I told him that was something he needed to discuss with Abby, but he needed a plan before he made his case. I sat him down and explained what my budget looks like and how many hours I have to work to pay for food, rent, clothing, utilities and all that. He showed me a brochure for an assisted-living style complex not far from here where some of his friends live." Finn hesitated. "If the place checks out, it might be a good first step for him, Jack. Let him get out there in the real world but make sure there's a safety net to catch him if he stumbles."

  Jack rubbed the back of his neck. "Abby won't like it, Finn. She loves him so much, and she wants to protect him from the shitty people who would do him wrong."

  "You tried to protect me once. Kelly, too," Finn added. "You had to let us go out and be men, Jack. We had to make mistakes and find our way."

  "It's different with Mattie."

  "Why? Granted, he has some unique challenges ahead of him, but there's no reason he can't at least try. Abby has always fought so damned hard to make sure Mattie got every opportunity he deserved. Is she really going to hold him back now?"

  Jack's gut roiled. What Finn said was true, but Abby wouldn't see it that way. Not at first, anyway. Given time to consider it, she would come around but he loathed the idea of being the one to piss her off. "When this bullshit is done, I'll talk to her."

  Finn slapped him on the back. "Good luck, bro."

  He chortled. "Thanks."

  Alone with his thoughts, Jack made the rounds of the house again, obsessively checking the windows and doors. The chilling footage of that contract killer entering that bedroom so easily and completely unnoticed made the fine hairs on the back of his neck stand on edge. He thought about the phone number left behind for Abby and the warning accompanying it. That was a phone call he planned to make very soon.

  "You want some coffee, boy?"

  The sound of Pop's voice instantly set his teeth on edge. He glanced over his shoulder to find his father silhouetted near the entrance to the living room. "No. I'm good."

  "It's going to be a long night. I'll make it anyway."

  Jack listened to the old man's slippered feet shuffling away. Though he had turned down the offer of caffeine, he silently accepted the cup handed to him a short time later. Talking to his father was the very last thing in the world he wanted to do tonight but the old man didn't seem to get the hint. Or maybe Pop did but just didn't give a shit.

  "Mattie told me about the watch."

  Jack's jaw clenched. "You realize you nearly lost it?"

  "I got shot."

  "You shouldn't have pawned it in the first place."

  "Add it to my list of mistakes."

  "I'm not sure there's any room left on that list."

  Pop didn't have a reply for that one. He quietly drank his coffee and stared out the window. Eventually, he piped up again. "You sure about this, son?" When Jack didn't answer, the old man clarified his question. "You and Finn might think you can keep a secret but I'm not deaf yet. I can hear—and I can see."

  He gestured to the barely visible cherry of a cigarette peeking out from a tree in his neighbor's yard. For the last twenty minutes or so, Jack had been watching Kostya watching the house. There was something so eerie about the other man. Jack wasn't at all the easily intimidated type but Kostya had the sort of dead-eyed stare that put the fear of God in a man.

  As if reading his mind, Pop said, "That one is probably more dangerous than the hitman after Abby. He's not just a driver and bodyguard. He's a cleaner. He's the man everyone calls when they need to make problems disappear—problems like you and Abby and that camera."

  Jack had suspected the Russian could be big trouble. As much time as his father spent swimming against the murky undercurrent that ran through the city, he would know the power players involved. "Tell me about Mando Fernandez."

  "He's old school. Well—he was old school. When you thought of a true one-percenter," his dad used the term given to the fiends who ran with outlaw motorcycle crews, "you imagined someone like Mando. He was Romero's best friend. From what I know, Romero did more to protect Mando over the years than he ever did to protect his kid. He left that poor girl to bleed to death, you know. Just ran." He shook his head. "Fucking scum."

  Jack's disbelieving gaze slid to his father. Romero Valero was scum for abandoning his daughter? This from the man who had beaten them black and blue while in his drunken rages?

  Refusing to have his judgment clouded by anger, Jack asked, "Who would want Mando dead?"

  "If it had been a simple killing—a knife or a gunshot—I would say it was a personal thing. Maybe over a woman or a business deal gone bad. But a contract killer? A hitman? No, that's someone who wants to send a message to Romero, and there's only one person trying to get him to listen right now—Lorenzo Guzman."

  "Because?"

  "Because word on the street is that Romero has been massaging those new family contacts to make some major moves down south. Guns have always been the bread and butter for the Reds. That borscht eating bastard who runs this city opens his pipel
ine to the Irish on occasion but most of his inventory comes from the homeland." The old man sipped his coffee. "I hear that Romero struck up a deal with the big boss out of Moscow. He's slowly taking over all the gun trade south of the border. If you want steel, you have to go through him. It's putting a squeeze on the cartel."

  "And hitting Mando tells Romero what?"

  "That he can get to his best friend in the city his son-in-law controls," the old man said matter-of-factly. "It's a fuck-you to Romero, to Nikolai and the big boss back in Moscow. So you better be sure you want to get tangled up with this girl, Jackie boy."

  Hating that nickname, Jack rolled his shoulders to shrug off the bad memories it brought. "I don't remember asking you for dating advice."

  "No," his father allowed softly. "You always were sure of yourself. You were the one I never worried much about because even as a kid you made deliberate, smart choices." The old man's voice took on a wistful tone. "Your mother was the same way." Then with a derisive snort, he said, "Well, except when it came to me. She could have done better."

  "Yes." Jack didn't even try to suppress that dig. He had always wondered why the hell his mother had gotten involved with such an abusive, drunken asshole. It wasn't until she had died and he had been helping Finn go through some paperwork that he had realized the anniversary his parents celebrated didn't match the one on their marriage certificate. Simple math had assured him that his mother had only married his father because she had been pregnant—with him.

  Jack went rigid when his father touched his arm. He fought the urge to shrug it off or push him away. "Be careful, son."

  With that warning rattling round in his head, Jack swallowed another mouthful of coffee and pondered how this might all play out come daylight. He didn't even want to think about the appointment that awaited him at Merkurie Motors. One thing was for damned sure. It was going to be a long fucking day.

  Chapter Nine

  "Abby, hurry! We're going to be late."

  "Jeez! Hold your horses, Mattie." I hurriedly tidied up my desk. "We have plenty of time to get to the art center."

  "I don't like being late."

  "Oh, I know." My brother toyed with the lanyard dangling around his neck, flicking his fingers against the laminated ID card hanging there. I could tell he was trying to get my attention and wanted to talk about his new job. "So—how was your first day at the gym?"

  "Busy," he said somewhat dramatically. "We had a new class of bodyguards from the Lone Star Group starting this morning. I had to register nine new guys."

  "Nine?"

  "It's brisk business."

  "Brisk, huh?" I could tell Mattie had been paying very close attention to every word that left Finn's mouth. When the two Connolly brothers had ambushed me that morning about offering Mattie a job, I had been taken aback. Mattie loved spending time at the gym, but it hadn't occurred to me that he might want to work there. I had always assumed that he would take his natural spot next to me at the pawn shop, but it seemed he had other interests.

  By the way he jabbered on about his new role at the gym, it was clear he was happy there. I couldn't remember a single time he had shown this much enthusiasm at the shop. A tiny part of me flared with jealousy, but I also acknowledged that Mattie needed to find something that inspired him. So far, the only thing that rivaled his enthusiasm for the gym was his weekly class at the arts center. The same class he wanted to go to, like, right now.

  "Abby," he whined. "Hurry."

  "Okay." Grabbing my purse, I followed him out of my office and locked the door. Mattie nearly slammed into Jack who had come around the corner and reached out to steady my brother.

  "Whoa! Sorry." Jack moved aside. "Hey, let me talk to your sister for a few seconds. Finn is waiting up front."

  Mattie sighed with frustration. "Fine, but make it snappy, Jack."

  The former Marine's mouth slanted with amusement. "Yes, sir."

  Nodding, Mattie left us alone. Jack stepped closer and cupped my face. He peered down at me, our gazes locking and my heartbeat kicking up a few notches. "Is it still in the same place?"

  He asked about the camcorder without coming right out and saying the word. I nodded. "I couldn't get to it even if I wanted to move it. Don't forget to keep the shop keys on you."

  "They're in my pocket." His thumbs brushed my cheeks. "Finn will keep you safe. There's going to be a tail on the truck. There's no reason to worry about anything. You'll go to the class and go home. I'll meet you there."

  Grasping his wrists, I held on tight. He had refused to tell me what Besian had asked in return for his help. I hated that I had put him in this position but understood that Jack would do so much more to keep me safe. There were no lines he wouldn't cross to protect me. "Jack, please be careful tonight."

  "Don't worry about me, sweetness." He leaned down and pressed our lips together. The gentle kiss heated quickly, his tongue invading my mouth and dancing with mine. My hands slid from his wrists to the sleeves of his shirt. I gripped the thin cloth and rose on tiptoes. His arms slid around my waist, pulling me in tight and reminding me just where I belonged.

  When the kiss finally ended, we shared a silly smile. Even with all that cartel hellfire threatening to rain down on us, we couldn't ignore the blissful glow of newly confessed love. Our newfound relationship had been a long time coming, and nothing—not even some contract killer—was going to stop us from finding joy in the love growing between us.

  Jack ran his fingertip along the outline of my lips. "Stick with Finn. He'll keep you safe."

  "I will."

  "I love you, Abby."

  "I love you, Jack."

  He patted my bottom. "You best get going. Mattie will never let either one of us forget it if he's late for his art class."

  Chuckling, I rubbed his chest and stepped away from him. I glanced over my shoulder one last time before leaving Jack in the hallway and heading out to join Finn and Mattie. I made sure Marley, Mark and our two security guards had the shop under control for the night and left the building. Because Mattie called shotgun, I ended up in the backseat of Finn's truck. Not that I minded, really. I used the short ride to answer a text from Bee and then stared out the window.

  Not wanting to alert Mattie that anything was wrong, I didn't glance back at the car that I was certain would be close behind us. So far Besian had upheld his promise to keep the heat off me. My gangster detail seemed to be keeping away the trouble that threatened me.

  How long my mobster bodyguards would hang around was anybody's guess. I doubted Besian was going to let this spin out much longer. Having a psycho contract killer running around the city and the possibility that a cartel and motorcycle club were going to start attacking one another on the streets of Houston wasn't good for business. Above all else, Besian was a businessman.

  When we reached the art center, Finn found a parking place and scanned the area before signaling that it was all right to get out and head inside the building. I spotted a black SUV pulling into a corner spot. The two men sitting inside it were strangers to me but I could feel their gazes following us until we disappeared into the center. Finn glanced at the vehicle but didn't react. Apparently they were on our team.

  Swinging his backpack, Mattie led us into the brightly lit lobby. There were already a dozen or so parents and caregivers seated on the sofas and chairs there, most of them tapping at phones or tablets. Two older moms sat side-by-side and knitted while chatting.

  "Hadley!" Mattie excitedly greeted the spunky instructor who was carrying two large boxes through the lobby.

  "Mattie!" She returned his greeting despite being unable to see him due to that bulky load.

  Always a gentleman, Finn stepped forward and intercepted her. "Here. Let me help."

  "Oh. Um—thanks." Hadley smiled at Finn as she brushed some loose, dark waves behind her ears. Those striking gray eyes of hers, the unique color such a contrast to her warm, brown skin, narrowed slightly with recognition. "Are you one of Ke
lly's brothers?"

  He nodded. "I'm Finn. You're one of Bee's friends, right?"

  "Yep." She turned to Mattie. "Hey, your friend Ellie is here today. She saved you a spot up front." Hadley's eyebrows bounced suggestively. "She brought you a cupcake from Benny's bakery. It's that cherry limeade flavor. She said it's your favorite."

  Mattie's cheeks turned red. "I'm going now."

  Curious about my brother's reaction, I waited until he was out of earshot to interrogate Hadley. "Is he sweet on her?"

  "I think so. They knew each other before they started coming to my class."

  "They were in high school together, but Ellie graduated a year before him. They have run-ins at the rehab center every couple of weeks, but I had no idea he might have a crush on her."

  "That's not something a brother is going to tell his sister," Finn remarked matter-of-factly. "It's something he's going to tell his brother."

  "Except Mattie doesn’t have a brother," I reminded him.

  "He's got me. He's got Jack. He's got Kelly. When he's ready, he'll let us know." Shifting the boxes, he asked, "Where do you want these, Hadley?"

  "Sorry," she said, with an apologetic smile. "Let's take them into the main studio." She glanced over at him as we walked into the studio. I might have imagined it but I thought I spotted a spark of interest. "So Bee told me you like to draw?"

  "I've always wanted to do comics," he admitted, his voice betraying a slight embarrassment. "I've been working on my own characters and world for the last few years."

  "Really? You know I'm a graphic novelist, right?

  Finn cast a quick look down at her. "I'm reading your new series, the supernatural one about the post-apocalyptic insurgency."

  "And?" she asked as he slid the boxes onto the table she indicated.

  "I like it."

  She picked up on something in his voice that made her eyes narrow to slits. "But?"

  "But it's clear you've never been to war."

  She blinked and then laughed. "Boy, Bee wasn't joking about you Connolly brothers. Y'all are some straight shooters."