pdf - Eye of the Storm.PDF (13 page)

"The fuckers cleaned up after themselves at the warehouse. Dad spoke to the Boston PD and while they found some trace evidence—mostly blood—mostly yours…" Tweeter eyed Ren warily as he snarled several swear words, “…and some unidentified blood, there were no bodies."

"Some bastards had Keely and bloodied her?" Trey looked almost as angry as Ren felt. "She had to kill to escape?"

"Yes." Vanko's accent was thick, an indication of his extreme anger. "Keelulya was tortured—they were going to kill her because she uncovered an asshole for hire in the DoD."

Trey and Price looked Keely over, this time, no leers, no knowing smirks, but with a newfound respect in their eyes.

"She came down here at great risk to herself to warn us about the trap," Ren said.

"We surmise Trujo paid the traitor to arrange sending us here." He rubbed his cheek against her forehead. Fuck, she still had a fever. His plan to get her home looked even more warranted in light of her continued illness. "She was bruised—developed an infection in her wounds—and still made it to us in time." He praised her not only for his men's benefit, but also for hers. He wanted her to understand he did appreciate her sacrifices. "Then she helped us fight off the mercs sent to kill us. She's managed to escape death too many times over the last few days. But no more—I'm sending her home with Tweeter. Out of the danger zone."

"Yes … all right, I'll go." She sighed, her warm breath touching the sensitive skin at the base of his throat. "I'm still running a fever. I'd be a burden."

"You would've gone anyway, even if I had to sedate you." He brushed a feather-light kiss across her temple.

"Maybe." He stiffened against her. "Down, big guy, it's a moot point now—I'm going. My biggest concern was the outnumbering thing, but with Daddy and the other brothers coming plus Trey and Price, you should be fine. You can use my contact, Senor Bazon, to get anything you'll need to fight Trujo. By the way, the Kamov? I paid for that ordnance for the belly guns. Use it."

Trey pulled up a chair and sat so close to him and Keely that he was ready to shove his brother on the floor.

"It's fine. He's fine. Don't," Keely whispered, unconsciously moving closer to him and away from his brother.

Trey noticed her movement, swore softly, then moved back. "Sorry, I was crowding you. So—did I understand correctly? You flew a fully-loaded Russian military chopper to go to my brother and the guys?"

She nodded.

Trey looked at him. "Where did she get an attack helicopter?"

Vanko answered. "From one of the meanest looking arms merchants I've ever had the pleasure of doing business with."

"Senor Bazon is not mean." Keely sat up and glared at Vanko. "Did you upset him?

Do I have to go down and mediate, then arrange weapons for you all?"

"No, little girl, you do not." A low masculine voice came from behind them. "I can get us any weapons we'll need."

"Daddy! Mama!" Keely wiggled off his lap, shoving Trey out of the way in her rush to get to a huge mountain of a man who stood in the entry of the suite with four equally large men ranged alongside him, all of them towering over a red-haired woman even smaller than Keely.

The five Walsh men glared at him, before turning to surround the littlest Walsh warrior in a hugging and kissing huddle. Keely's mom eyed him with piercing green eyes identical to Keely's. Her fiery emerald stare rivaled those of her husband and sons for fierceness. Of the six Walsh arrivals she scared him the most—so much so he had to remind himself to take a breath. She blinked, releasing him from her spell, then elbowed her men out of the way so she could take her daughter into her arms.

"God, I'm a dead man," Ren muttered.

"Nah." Tweeter leaned in close so his words would not carry. "I told them you were a good guy. But I expect Dad and Mom will talk to you about Keely. They had a lot of questions about you and your business. Mostly I think they want to assure themselves that you won't hurt her in any way, shape or form, and that includes most especially her feelings."

"I'm not going to hurt your sister. I'm merely protecting her."

"Keep telling yourself that, my friend. You were a goner two days ago when we both realized Keely would only respond to you in the middle of her nightmares."

Tweeter had a point—damn him. Ren was just beginning to examine his feelings toward Keely. It would be a lot easier to examine those emotions without five large and overprotective Walsh males and one very scary Walsh female breathing down his neck.

"Thanks for vouching for me."

"No problem. Baby sis and I will be collecting."

"What?" Ren said.

"Keely has this idea for an electronic security dome. It would be perfect for Sanctuary. We could work off the perimeter security and add a third dimension, giving us a holographic image of the entire property. No one could approach by land or air without setting off a warning." Tweeter looked like a kid anticipating Christmas morning and lots of presents. "Plus, it will give us two-way radio capability from the furthest point of Sanctuary to the Bat Cave without worrying about terrain and weather interference. Give me the go-ahead and I can keep her busy and happy—and out of trouble—until y'all get home."

"Go for it, but try to be as cost effective as possible. We aren't made of money." SSI did well, but overhead was high.

"Hey, you're getting one of the foremost applied computer scientists in the world working on a project that has never been done before—for free. She's willing to give us the patent. The military applications are unlimited. We'll be rolling in cash once we prove it works."

"She can keep her patent. I've been thinking about offering her a job at SSI since she quit MIT because of us." Well, he lied. The idea had just popped into his head. But the more he examined the idea, the more it felt—right.

Tweeter nodded. "Sounds good. She can live with me. I don't figure we want her driving back and forth from Elk City or Granger like the other employees."

"No, she won't be living off Sanctuary." She'd live in his house with him, but those details could be worked out later—once he examined all the ramifications of asking her to cohabit. He wasn't sure what he'd do if she said no.

A smile on his face, Ren watched as Keely hugged each of her very large brothers.

She and her mother were midgets among giants. Each brother treated her as if she were made of spun sugar. They had to know she was a mini-Amazon, after all they'd trained her. But there was something about her that made a man want to protect her—or possess her. He was one of those men. He frowned. He didn't like the idea of allowing anyone else protect her, not even her family.

Tweeter rambled on. "Don't worry about cost. What we're going to do to Sanctuary we can do with stuff we already have. Keely and I have been corresponding about this for a while and so I just added stuff to previous electronics order. We should have most of what we need to do the wiring and laying of cable."

Ren shifted his attention back to Tweeter. "Um, and how is that going to happen?"

He thought of the rugged and dangerous terrain surrounding their compound.

Remembered the bitch of a time it had taken full grown men to string the perimeter security conduits and build in the solar power and battery arrays to power the perimeter alarms.

"Keely and I have rock-climbed all over the world. She's an expert. Man, you should see her. She's like a frigging spider. And since it is cold in Idaho right now, she'll be in her element. Haven't you guessed? She's a winter sprite."

Just thinking of some of the climbs on Sanctuary, treacherous enough in dry, warm weather, but deadly in the snow and icy conditions that covered their part of the country the majority of the year, he shuddered.

"There had better not be a new bruise or bump on her when I get home." He uttered the words in the form of a warning. Tweeter had better heed it or pay the consequences.

He didn't care if the man was Keely's brother. He walked away from Tweeter to meet the rest of Keely's family.

"Ren!" Keely ran to him and tugged his arm, dragging him to meet her family.

"Daddy. Mama. Loren, Paul, Devin, and Andy. This is Tweetie's boss, Ren. He's sending me to Idaho with Tweetie so y'all can kick Trujo butt."

Ren had to laugh at Keely's fierce frown. She really wanted to kick butt, too. The fact she was leaving without too much of a fight had him thanking God. He hadn't wanted to have to force her, but he would have.

He stroked a hand down Keely's back and settling it at her waist before holding his other one out to her father. "Colonel Walsh, sir. I'd like to thank you for teaching your daughter how to take care of herself. Mrs. Walsh, I promise that as long as she is under my protection at Sanctuary, Keely will not have to use any of those skills her father taught her."

Keely's father took his hand in a bruising grip and shook it. "Don't count on it, son.

Keely is a magnet for trouble." Her mother and four brothers nodded, grim looks on their faces. "This traitor who's decided my little girl is a person to be eliminated—”

"Is a dead man." Ren's words came out as a rumbling snarl.

The Walsh family nodded their satisfaction at his statement.

"Knowing my daughter, she already has a plan on how to track the bastard and lure him out." Colonel Walsh stared at him. "You'll inform me when this is to happen—and I will be there with my boys and several carefully selected former Marines. Understand?"

"Yes, sir. I have no problem with that."

Keely sighed, a happy smile on her face. "I knew my family would like you." She hugged his arm against her breast, her obviously braless breast. His damn cock hardened and throbbed. He only hoped none of her family noticed.

Her mother gasped, her green gaze tracing a path from Ren's bulge to his face. "You might want to let go of him, Keely. The man, um, needs his space."

"Mama, he's been like
that
since I met him." She fluttered her lashes at Ren, an impish grin on her face. "I think it's a permanent condition."

"What the fuck—" One of the twins, Loren or Paul, snarled and fisted his hands. Ren prepared to move Keely behind him in case a fist was thrown.

"Paul! Language!" Molly Walsh held out her hand. "Pay up."

Payment in the form of a quarter was handed over by the red-faced giant with a muttered, "Sorry, Mama."

Colonel Walsh laughed. He gently stroked his wife's flame-colored hair, his gaze on his daughter. "Behave, Keely-girl."

"Sure, Daddy." She smiled sweetly. "Ren's like you guys." She paused, letting everyone wonder if she was still talking about infinite hard-ons or something else, then added, "A hero. Plus, he let me fight alongside him. We kicked butt."

"We sure did, sprite. But to save me—and your parents—from prematurely going gray, you'll be on the SSI jet out of here later this evening with Tweeter."

Keely's mother's face lit up like the morning sun and she winked at him. Fuck him, she approved of him. He pulled out a quarter and handed it to her.

She laughed. "You don't have to pay for thinking the f-word, you know."

"Wasn't sure about the rules, ma'am."

"Call me Molly—keep your money." She smiled at him. "I'm sure I'll collect from you enough in the future. Ex-military men just can't help themselves."

"I look forward to it, Molly." He sensed Keely sagging against him. He gently turned her and tipped her chin up so she looked him in the eye. "You're ready to drop. Why don't you lie down while Vanko, Tweeter and I bring the rest up to speed?"

She nodded, then yawned as if his mentioning her tiredness made it so. "Okay, but if you need me to sweet talk Senor Bazon into getting you the good stuff and not the third-world leftovers, let me know. He likes me—says I remind him of a rain forest pixie."

He chastely kissed her forehead, aware every single Walsh eye was on them, then turned her toward the bedroom. "Want me to bring you a Pepsi?"

"Later." She started toward the bedroom. She moved like a man's wet dream, all female curves in a pint-sized package. All the male eyes in the room were on her. She stopped and turned. "Someone needs to buy me some panties. I'm not flying all the way to Idaho without panties. It isn't decent. Oh, and some blue jeans and a long-sleeved shirt.

It's winter in Idaho, for chrissakes." Then she smiled, turned her sweet ass, which everyone now knew was naked under the dress, and entered the bedroom and shut the door.

Ren turned to meet the narrowed, but he sensed, amused gazes of the Walsh clan.

"What?"

"You sure you're ready to keep my little girl out of trouble, Ren?" Colonel Walsh smiled, a big shit-eating grin. "She's a pistol, just like her mama."

"Kennard Walsh!" Molly punched her husband in the stomach with a tiny fist. "I am not."

All five brothers muttered various renditions of "Are, too, Mama," earning them a lethal feminine glare promising retribution at a future date.

Devin Walsh pinned Ren with a knowing look. "You be careful around my baby sister. She's been known to kick a guy's balls into his throat when provoked." The nonverbal message in that warning was "don't hurt my sister."

Trey and Price, silent observers to the Walsh family reunion, snorted in disbelief, but sobered when they saw Vanko nodding agreement with Devin's words.

"That little bit of a gal can take down a full-grown man?" Price asked.

"Yes." Vanko's head jerked emphatically. "Just today she threw a steak knife at one of Trujo's men and emasculated the other and made good her escape just as we arrived to rescue her."

"When the fuck did this happen?" Colonel Walsh asked.

"Kennard, language. How do you expect the boys to clean up their language if…”

Colonel Walsh cut off Molly's lecture by picking her up and kissing her. Ren saw lots of tongue and sensed major amounts of love and passion in their embrace. The Walsh boys groaned. As the kiss continued, Tweeter muttered, "Get a room, Dad."

Keely's parents broke off the kiss. The Colonel plopped his wife into a chair and pulled out a quarter handed it to her. "Sorry, pumpkin."