Authors: Angel Payne
“Oh, no?” Tait
kicked up his brows. “In our line of work, babe, you learn real fast about the
universe.”
“The sadistic
bastard,” Kellan put in.
“Gets his kicks on
random take-backs.”
“Word.” Kellan
swung a sideways fist into the air over her head. Tait met the bump, only to
drop out of it then land his hand directly on her left breast. Not shockingly,
Kell’s hand ended up in the same position on her right breast. “Damn,” he
muttered. “Sorry about that. It has a will of its own sometimes.”
“Yeah,” Tait added.
“Mine, too. Guess my hands just crave to touch things of beauty.”
While Lani
giggled, Kellan gave a whistle of approval. “Nice save, brother.”
She took
advantage of the chance to slide her hands up both their arms, savoring some
beauty of her own in the form of their muscled landscapes before cupping both
their prominent jaws once more. “Maybe I don’t want to be saved.”
They answered
that with tandem growls, interrupting themselves long enough to take turns in
kissing damn near every thought out of her mind.
Except for the truth
behind her words.
I don’t want to
be saved
.
They were both
here, in this shitty and dangerous situation, because of her. Because of the
duty they felt to save her. She didn’t blame them for it. She didn’t even fault
their profession for it. Gods, these two had probably spent their baby years
“guarding” their teddy bears from the “evil force” of the washing machine.
Protectiveness was branded into their DNA. Though maddening, it was simply
another amazing fragment of why she loved them both.
That didn’t mean
she couldn’t circumvent it. Especially when it was completely in her power to
do so.
This entire
situation would go away—if the caves beneath the ranch did.
Her heart
cracked. But the fissure was wide enough to allow clarity in, along with its
friend, determination. An added encouragement: the plot would be ridiculously
easy to carry out. Swiftly, quietly, and alone. By the time the guys woke up
and figured out what she was up to, the damage would be done. The tunnel, and nearly
everything on top of it, would be gone.
It wouldn’t keep
Kellan and Tait out of danger forever.
Aue
, every line of their job
descriptions started with the word. It only meant that they wouldn’t be killed because
of her. Not at the will of maggots like Cameron Stock and Gunter Benson. Not
outside her front door.
Over the last
few days, she’d heard them both lecturing Leo about making right choices.
This
was the right choice. Though the two men in her arms would never see it that
way, her heart and soul voiced their firm approval to her plans. The heart and
soul that hadn’t just been captured by these two amazing warriors but
transformed by them. Changed from insecurity and suspicion to confidence and
trust. Guided to becoming more of the person she wanted to be.
She owed them so
much—and had no idea how she’d ever show them the real depths of her gratitude.
But she could
start to try.
*
* * * *
As she’d hoped,
they both fell asleep. Yeah, they’d been slinging their macho soldier shit
about taking turns for naps, but that was before both of them had their heads
on real pillows and their bodies in a real bed, after working their toned asses
off to give her some mind-bending orgasms in said bed.
They’d be out
deep for only a few minutes. After the years they’d spent on missions, their
minds were trained to pop in and out of REM sleep faster than most people
changed TV channels. Even with that working for her, slipping out from between
them wasn’t easy. Tait roused enough to loop her by the waist with a groggy
protest about keeping her close. He called her “Hoku-lulu” this time, instead
of “Luna,” which she wryly considered a step in the right direction, before
telling him it wouldn’t be pretty if she didn’t pee soon. He’d let her go with
no more objection then fell right back to sleep, thank the gods.
After that, she
made a quick stop in the dining room with paper and pen in hand. She owed Leo an
explanation, though already knew he’d understand what she was about to do. In
his way, her little brother had fallen just as hard for “T-Boner” and
“Slash-gasm” as she had.
Now she stood
outside the cottage with the keys to their rental car in hand. Though she’d
followed them here in the jeep, the rental ran quieter. Still, she vacillated.
What if the guys heard her starting the car? Her ass, perhaps more, would be
marked for the punishment of her life.
She huffed. “Who
are you kidding, Hokulani? The second you drive out of here, the punishment’s a
sure thing.” And every bone in her body told her Tait and Kell could make
punishments as bad as they were good…
A shiver vibrated
down to the soles of her feet.
“Knock it off,”
she chastised herself. “You have the means to make this
all
go away—so
get this party started and
do it
, damn it.”
Without another
backwards glance at the cottage, she marched to the rental, got in, and drove off
the base as quietly as she could.
Once she got to
the highway, she opened up the engine—relatively speaking. The rental had the
pickup power of three donkeys and a gopher, but it got the job done in getting
her to the turn-off near Kaipo’s market. The store was dark. Not a surprise. The
eighties alarm clock at the cottage had done a glaringly good job of telling
her what time she got out of bed, meaning that by now, it was well past
midnight. The big Samoan had long ago hung the Closed sign, probably a little
early in order to take advantage of the great surfing weather, before going
home to his gorgeous wife and three rambunctious boys.
For a tiny
moment, she tried to imagine herself in the same kind of situation. A home full
of laughter. Healthy, happy kids. A husband who worshipped the ground she
walked on…
That was where
the dream fell apart. Trying to envision Tait
or
Kellan in that role,
without the other, shattered her fantasy. She didn’t want to dream of a life
without loving them. She didn’t want to think of an earth without them on it.
Which was why she was going through with this plan.
She filled in
for Kaipo at the store when he wanted to treat Natia and the boys to special
trips, so it was easy to let herself into the store in order to retrieve the
items she’d need. She left cash on the counter for the fire starter, flashlight,
and batteries, then locked up again and made her way to the car.
Where Luna
decided to pay her a fun little visit.
She shook her
head to clear it of the presence, so recognizable now, who wafted into the
fabric of her mind like a wisp of cool wind. Given the muggy heat of the night,
she likely would’ve welcomed the intrusion under other circumstances. But she
had a good idea of why the woman’s spirit had chased her down here and now.
Unlike the first two occurrences, the timing on this one sucked like rain on a
Sunday.
I’m not that
easy to get rid of, girlfriend.
Lani sighed.
“Are you here to lecture me about how they’re trained Special Forces professionals
who confront danger like this every day?”
Why would I
waste time on that? You already know it and are ignoring it. But I get that. I
did the same thing, for the exact same reason. You think this could be the op
where they won’t get lucky—and thank God
you’re
here to save them from
their fatal date with destiny.
She smiled into
the darkness. Since she knew every rut and bump in the road between here and
home, she purposely left the car’s lights off, just in case Benson and Stock
decided to stake an early claim on the ranch. “So you do understand,” she
murmured.
Sure I do.
“Thank you.”
I also
understand that if you get yourself captured or killed on this crazy stunt,
it’ll destroy Kellan.
“Damn it.”
And Tait, too.
“You can go away
now.”
Thankfully, her
mind was silent after that.
Fortune smiled
on her again; everything at the ranch was equally quiet.
After driving up
the main road and passing the mansion, she turned down the truck road to the
barn. The dirt lane was a mire of mud due to the heavier rains lately, making
her doubt the decision not to take Kaipo’s delivery truck for this, but she
knew if Benson and his “friends” were sneaking around, the rental would lend
her the most anonymity. As an extra precaution, she snagged Tait’s Seahawks cap
and tucked her hair beneath it. Now she appeared like every other island
girl…who snuck around a barn in the middle of the night…proclaiming her
devotion to the Seahawks.
Maybe this
was
a little crazy.
But fortune
didn’t favor the sane. And sometimes, not even the brave. That was a good
thing, because she didn’t feel a lot of either as she twirled the combo lock
for the barn then opened the big red door. Clutching the flashlight for an
extra dose of nerve, she made her way to the big iron storage locker that took up
a good chunk of the opposite wall. The cabinet was secured with another
combination lock. After she clicked in those digits and popped the shackle, the
door swung back with a creak she was certain they could hear in Lihue.
She let her
nervous grimace give way to a smile when the boxes she was seeking were right
where she’d hoped. She flashed on the afternoon, so long ago now, when she’d
found the wooden crates while cleaning out the pantry with Dad. How old had she
been? Thirteen? Fourteen? No. She’d still been rocking the orthodontics so it’d
been earlier, eleven or twelve. She and Dad had snickered at seeing the red
block letters,
TNT
, straight out of a Bugs Bunny cartoon, though shared
a thrill when they looked inside, discovering the containers really did contain
the distinctive red blocks. It had been like searching a castle and finding a
hidey-hole with a princess’s diary inside. Where had the stuff come from? Who
left it there? And why?
Their moment of
glory hadn’t lasted long. Mom had
not
shared their delight. She ordered
the explosives out of the house and into the barn, where they’d remained ever
since.
In the years
since, Lani had always been curious about that anomaly. Three boxes of explosives
stored so close to the mansion’s kitchen, of all places. After what Kellan and
Tait had shared with her today, the dots started to connect. The new kitchen
had been built over what was known as the ranch’s “first pantry,” now a term
she knew as code for the entry point into the house from the cave. The
TNT
was
brought here as a drastic “Plan B” by the outlaws who’d used the tunnel, as a
means of burying their tracks—literally—in case of pursuit by enemies.
Tonight, she was
going to honor the scalawags’ brilliant thinking.
She had no
illusions about the damage she was about to wield. Judging from what Tait and
Kell relayed about where they found the mouth of the cave, as well as the
“hollow” parts of the kitchen floor that had always made her so curious, she
guessed that the tunnel ran right under the observation cliff. Once the cave
was imploded, the hill would crumble. Most of the orchard and rose gardens
would be taken out by the slide, as well a good length of the beach access path.
The explosion would also destroy half, if not all, of the main house. The barn
and paddock were far enough away to be spared. Everything else would take years
to rebuild. But somehow, they
would
rebuild.
And Tait and
Kellan would still be alive.
As she returned
to the house and offloaded the explosives to the back lanai, she paused once a
minute to eavesdrop on every molecule of the night’s air. All was still, the
atmosphere broken only by the occasional breeze off the lazy ocean, for which
she sent silent thanks to the gods. If a car came up the drive or a “visitor” approached
from the beach, she’d definitely know it.
By the time she
slid her key into the lock on the back door, her heartbeat eased into a tango
beat instead of a salsa. She didn’t use the reprieve as an excuse to let down
her guard. After toeing off her shoes, she took pliant steps through the
kitchen, across the dining room, and into the living room then held her breath
to listen once more. All seemed normal. The shadows in the rooms were the same
as always. The windows sighed softly from the wind, also completely normal.
She exhaled in
relief.
And just as
quickly girded herself with another long breath in. She’d caught a lot of lucky
breaks so far, nothing to take for granted. “Surreptitious” continued to be her
middle name while heaving the first box of explosives out of the car and into
the house.
As she set the
container down, she was richly rewarded for her mouse act.
If she had some
bells, she could’ve punched through the floor—and thrown them around the necks
of the cats below.
She dropped to
all fours, wondering if she’d been mistaken, but sure enough, Gunter’s
lord-of-the-manor baritone filtered up through the floorboards, stirring fresh
bile in her stomach. He barked an order of some sort, causing a lot of frantic
boot scuffles in response. She curled a tight hand to her middle and let out a
conflicted rasp.