Page 27 of Pulled Under


  “That’s why I picked the neckline.” His eyes meet mine in the mirror. “Because I don’t want to tell people you’re available. I want to tell them you’re taken.” He lowers his lips to my ear. “I love you.”

  My heart squeezes and I rotate to face him. “I love you, too.”

  “Good. Because I’m going to need a lot of love to get through this shit tonight.”

  “And sex?” I tease, since he’d once made a similar joke to me.

  “Oh yeah. Lots of sex. Creative sex. Tie you up and have my way with you sex.” He turns me to the door, hands on my shoulders from behind. “Let’s go to the party so we can get back and do those things.”

  I start walking and once I hit the stairs, he follows. “Adding to the list,” he says from behind me. “I might have to spank you for making me look at your ass in that dress all night, because it’s perfect.”

  “Don’t look,” I say, stopping at the bottom of the steps as he joins me.

  He stops in front of me. “You can’t look this beautiful and expect me not to look.” He kisses my hand and settles it at his elbow, before facing forward. “Shall we, my beautiful woman?” he asks all proper and debonair.

  “Yes, we shall, my arrogant, alpha hero.”

  He gives me a devastatingly sexy smile and we are on our way, but as we’re about to step into the elevator, I tug Asher to a halt. “Am I Sierra tonight?”

  He catches the elevator doors. “Yes, and every night.”

  “How do we explain Kelli?”

  “An undercover operation we weren’t willing to pierce for him.”

  “Are we good?” he asks.

  “Yes. We’re very good.”

  He smiles and we enter the car.

  ***

  We arrive at the hotel by way of a driver and present our invitation. We’re directed to a bank of elevators and we head upstairs, along with a cluster of people and an elf. Asher and I end up crushed against the wall and he smiles. “Why are you smiling?” I mouth.

  He leans down and whispers, “Aside from the fact that you’re pressed against me, this is not the way my father would want his event to go down.”

  The elevator dings and we exit as a hoard of people try to enter. Once we’re out of the car there is another cluster of too many people all along our upcoming path, including a half dozen elves. Asher laughs again. “I love this.”

  “You’re evil,” I say as we walk toward our event location.

  “Is that a problem?”

  “Maybe.”

  His cellphone rings and he pulls it from his pocket to frown. “Royce. He knows we’re here. I need to take this.” He punches the Answer button. “What? When? Are you sure? Right… Yeah… Get me back up.” He ends the call.

  “What just happened?”

  He snags my hand and walks me toward a wall, out of the hustle of people and elves. “Everything is fine.”

  “No. No it’s not because I know you. What is going on?”

  “They let The Beast out.”

  “What?” My heart starts to race. “When?”

  “Yesterday and it was kept under wraps, but the good news is that we have confirmation that he fled the country. Even his attorney says that he’s in Switzerland, where they’re unlikely to extradite.”

  “I don’t believe his attorney or anyone who works with him or for him. And you don’t either, or you wouldn’t have asked for back-up.”

  “He would be a fool to come after you, Sierra.”

  “Or arrogant enough to think he can get away with it. And he is that arrogant.”

  “Let me rephrase. If he’s that stupid, he’ll die. End of story. It’s my end game for him anyway. I’m armed. You’re armed. He will regret it. He will die.”

  “I’m armed.” I pat the sparkly purse at my hip. “I chose it to fit my weapon.”

  “Good. And you know how to handle it now. Remember—”

  “Shoot to kill.”

  “Asher!”

  He grimaces. “That would be my father.” He offers me his arm.

  I inhale and accept it before forcing a smile. His father steps in front of us, and in a dark blue suit and his graying hair, he looks elegant and arrogant, much like The Beast. He proves the similarities by looking Asher up and down and saying, “If you’d cut that hair, you’d clean up nicely, despite those tattoos.”

  “Then someone might think I’m like you, Father. And I’m actually not the nice one. You don’t realize that and I promise you, you hope you never do.”

  His father arches a brow. “Is that some sort of threat?”

  “An observation,” Asher says.

  His father beats him up with a stare and then looks at me. “Twenty thousand in jewels,” he says, looking at Asher. “At least you know how to decorate. The ceremony is in an hour. Mingle until then.”

  He walks away.

  “You know how to decorate?!” I whisper. “He is—”

  “A prick,” Asher says. “Now you see why I said I’d ruin him if I worked for him?”

  “Yes. I do. Maybe we should leave?”

  “Wounded Warriors, sweetheart. We’re here for them. Let’s go mingle and make some people feel the love.”

  He guides me into a giant room that is dimly lit and crowded. A stage sits at the opposite side of a dance floor, while soft music fills the air played by an orchestra in the right corner, and various food stands tempt visitors. A stage is at the very front and Asher is immediately cornered by a soldier in uniform with only one leg and he gives the man his full attention, as do I. There is another soldier without an arm that is next and I end up dancing with him, as Asher dances with a female veteran. We both become completely absorbed, and the respect they have for Asher as SEAL Team Six, is overwhelming.

  “I should have invited Luke,” Asher says, as we steal a spot on the dance floor. “He would have been honored to be here.”

  “So your father did a good thing?”

  “For the wrong reasons, but yes. They charged for the event and wrote off the costs while asking for donations tonight. But don’t let him fool you. He’s—”

  “A prick. I know.”

  “I will never take his money. You need to know that. He’ll pull stunts like this tonight, but it will never change anything.”

  I touch his face. “I love this necklace and this dress, Asher, but I had money before you. I was miserable. I just want you.”

  There is an announcement and Asher is called to the stage. He leads me that direction and finds me a seat at a table close to the front. He then leans in and kisses me. “Don’t go far.”

  “I’m watching you,” I promise. “I’ll be right here.” He hesitates, like he doesn’t want to leave me, and really, I don’t want him to, but this is an important event. He turns away and heads up the nearby steps leading to the stage and I clap with the audience as his father announces him. There are wounded warriors across the stage and each tells a short story, all heart-touching, and a singer who performs a patriotic song, which really energizes the crowd. Soon people are on their feet, crowding the stage, and I do the same. Finally, Asher is called to speak and the warrior in him radiates from beneath that suit. It’s in his eyes, his grace, his power.

  He begins to speak when someone nudges me from behind and grabs my arm. I turn and my heart sinks. I know him. This middle-aged graying man is Ju-Ju’s partner. He lifts his coat and shows me a gun. My heart races and I can barely breathe as he yanks me toward him, pressing his lips to my ear. “I will kill them all if you don’t come with me.”

  And he will. He’s that volatile. I ease through the crowd and start walking, and he is behind me, watching me, ready to shoot. The minute we clear the room, he directs me left and we start walking. Almost immediately we turn left again and there is a stairwell door. Part of me wants to bolt, but I know others could die. The other part knows entering that stairwell makes this me against him, and that means one dies, not two. He opens the door and my hand goes to my purse.
I step through the doorway and I unzip my purse.

  He’s right behind me though, shoving me and I stumble forward. “Get up! Walk.”

  I do it, one reach from my gun, but he’s behind me. If I move wrong, he could drop me before I can kill him. And so I charge up the stairs, but I try to keep him distracted. “It was never Ju-Ju, was it?”

  “Of course not. He’s a fool. A tool. My bitch slave. He really is. He protected me. He went to jail.”

  “How many have you killed?” I ask.

  “Dozens. Ju-Ju, like his father, favored poison, so I humored him. Just like I humor all my seconds, but tonight it’s my way. Tonight, you’re my pick.”

  “You were sloppy,” I dare, realization hitting me. “I saw you at the bank.”

  “I wanted you to see me,” he says. “That’s the fun. You see it coming, but you can’t stop it.”

  “It?”

  “Death.”

  We are now at the exit to the roof and I know that I have to act or I am dead. I push open the door and the minute I do, I pull my gun and turn, my finger on the trigger. He enters the rooftop and I shoot him in the chest. He falls to the ground and I lower my gun, just about to finally breathe. That’s when Devin appears, and he too is holding a gun, but his is pointed at me, while that moment that I lowered mine could prove fatal. The door slams behind him and now we’re alone, the lights dim, the sky dark.

  “Good to see you, beautiful,” he says, and he’s actually come to kill me in an Armani suit.

  “What happened to escaping to paradise?”

  “Drop your gun or I will make sure you lose the hand holding it.”

  He will. I know he will, and I drop my weapon, praying that Asher finds me in time. Before it hits the ground, Devin is charging me and I am knocked to my back, the breath forced from my chest. He comes down on top of me. “Maybe I should fuck you one last time right here. Maybe. After you talk. Who did you share that file you gave my attorney with?”

  “Just me. Just—”

  He slaps my face and it hurts. God, it hurts. “Who?” he demands. “Next time it will be my fist.”

  “No one. I told no one.”

  He rears back to punch me and suddenly he is gone. I scramble to my knees to find Asher holding him, a gun pointed between his eyes. “Asher!”

  “Yeah, sweetheart. Sorry about being a little late. But I’m here now.”

  “Remember me?” he asks Devin. “Remember my promise?”

  “You’re a SEAL. You couldn’t kill me then and you won’t now.”

  “Ex-SEAL. I got tired of saving lowlifes like you.” Asher grabs his shirt and shoves him backward until he’s by the ledge. “Get up on it.”

  “No.”

  Asher smashes him in the nose and he howls in pain while Asher sets him on the ledge. “Stand or die,” he says before releasing him.

  Devin wobbles but stands, and he’s still holding his gun at his side. “Asher! He has a gun.”

  “Yes, he does,” Asher says, lowering his. “Now we’re even. Let’s do it Old West style. Let’s count down. One. Two. Three.” Devin raises his gun and fires, but it’s too late. Asher’s bullet is in his head and he stumbles, falling face first onto the pavement.

  I scream and Asher is in front of me, pulling me to him, and I punch at his chest. “You asshole arrogant man with a hero complex. You dropped your weapon. You showboated.”

  “I made sure that it wasn’t murder.” He cups my face. “I made sure he can never hurt you again. I made sure your mine. Marry me.”

  “Are you serious? You’re asking me now?”

  “Yeah. Death and near death has a way of making you never want to lose another moment. Marry me.”

  “Yes. Yes, I will. When can we go home?”

  “Not soon enough, but when we do it’s over. It’s really over. All of it. And then there is just you and me, sweetheart. Forever.”

  EPILOGUE

  Asher

  Thanksgiving…

  Since leaving the SEALs, Thanksgiving has been about food, football, and friends but this Thanksgiving is really about thanks, as it should be. Almost losing Sierra made me understand that. She’s made me understand that. A week of her going through a million interviews and the emotional stress of killing someone made me understand that. All these things will take time to heal, but I want to heal her and what I can’t heal, I want to mend and mend again, as many times as she needs me. And sometimes when she thinks she doesn’t.

  So, come this Thanksgiving morning, with Devin, Ju-Ju, and Miller behind us, I aim to make this day special. So we have our friends, football, and food, and watching Sierra joke and interact like family with everyone only makes it more clear to me how much she belongs here, and with me.

  By early evening, she wants to pick out a tree and for the first time in my adult life, I find myself in my living room, willingly putting up a tree, while she fawns over ornaments we’ve picked, and smiles. I love her smile. How the hell did I live without that smile?

  Apparently, I need roasted chestnuts too, because her mother said so, and now she says so, and while she fires up the oven and puts them in to cook, I set the blue box I bought when I bought her necklace under the tree. She returns and points at her turkey shirt. “Can you believe I have a turkey on my shirt?”

  “No. I cannot.”

  “Never make a bet with Savage over cookie baking. Lesson learned.” She joins me by the tree. “He can really bake.”

  “His cookies were good but—”

  “He’s an asshole,” she finishes for me. “I know.”

  I lean in and kiss her. “There’s a present under the tree.”

  “Already?”

  “I want you to open it now, Sierra.”

  “Oh no. We have to wait. That’s the fun of it. You’ll see.”

  I go down on one knee and grab the box. She sucks in air. “I’m going to do this right this time. Sierra. I cannot think of a way I could live without you. Will you marry me?”

  She starts crying. “I don’t know why I’m crying. I just—I never thought I’d feel this happy and—”

  “Say yes, sweetheart.”

  “I already said yes and yes. A million times yes.”

  I open the box and slide the heart-shaped platinum diamond ring on her finger. “Julie found your size for me.” I kiss her hand. “Do you like it.”

  She holds it up between us. “How can I not love this ring? It’s stunning and perfect.”

  “I have one more gift.”

  “That gift has to wait until Christmas.”

  “Actually, it does,” I say. “I found your mother. She’s engaged. She wants to know if we want to have a double wedding on Christmas Day here in New York City.”

  She wraps her arms around me and hugs me until I can’t breathe and yet that hug and this woman is the only reason I can breathe.

  ***

  Sierra

  Christmas…

  I stand in front of a Christmas tree in Rockefeller Center in a pink silk dress while my soon-to-be husband is in a tuxedo, his tattoos peeking from his sleeve, the perfect touch. My mother, on the other hand, wears red, because her new man has made her daring and happy. Her soon-to-be husband who is twenty years younger than her, wears a tropical shirt. A preacher takes us through our vows, while our friends who are now family to me, watch. I think of the money I may inherit, and it means nothing. I’ve seen how it corrupts and hurts people. I want to donate it. I want to help those in need. This, Asher, is what happy is. I have never been so happy in my life.

  When it’s done and Asher kisses me, it’s like coming home. He is home and when we dance, the past fades away and there is only this. Him. Us. And when he leans in and starts singing to me, I think I fall in love all over again. But then, I’m pretty sure that’s what happens when you marry an arrogant asshole who doesn’t just think he’s a hero. He is a hero. My hero.

  The End

  ***

  FALLING UNDER—JACOB'S BOOK
IS AVAILABLE NOW!

  ***

  PLUS! Turn the page to read an excerpt from Dirty Rich One Night Stand, the first standalone in my DIRTY RICH series, AND chapter one of MURDER NOTES, book one in my LILAH LOVE series!

  Thank you so much for picking up PULLED UNDER, Walker Security book two! Ready to read Kyle's and Jacob's stories (books one and three in the Walker Security series)? They're available now!

  - Deep Under (Kyle's Story)

  - Falling Under (Jacob's Story)

  CHECK THEM OUT HERE: http://lisareneejones.com/walker

  ***

  Don't forget to check out the original series: Tall, Dark and Deadly (all standalones and available now):

  - Hot Secrets (Royce's Story)

  - Dangerous Secrets (Luke's Story)

  - Beneath the Secrets (Blake's Story)

  CHECK THEM OUT HERE: http://lisareneejones.com/TDD

  ***

  And as an added bonus I want to share an excerpt of DIRTY RICH ONE NIGHT STAND and the first chapter of MURDER NOTES! Please turn the page to read it and let me know what you think!

  xoxo,

  Lisa Renee Jones

  EXCERPT FROM

  DIRTY RICH ONE NIGHT STAND

  “You’re as perfect as I knew you would be,” he says, his voice managing to be both sandpaper and silk on my nerve endings, as he adds, “and almost as naked as I want you to be.”

  The idea that he has wanted me as much as I have wanted him does funny things to my stomach, but more so, delivers an unexpected wave of illogical vulnerability. This is sex. The end. I don’t want or need to feel anything more. I want and need him naked and fucking me now, fast, hard. That’s safe. Desperate to find that safe place, to shift the control from him to me, I push to my toes, my breasts molding to his chest, and press my lips to his lips. They are warm, and he is hard everywhere I am soft.