Authors: Lora Leigh
he gave before opening his eyes again and peeking over at the clock.
Noah had put off waking up as long as he could. It was six, two more hours and the warrant
against Delbert Ran would be served. He needed to be ready.
He rose from the bed and stared down at her. "I need to get to the apartment."
She looked away from him, her lips thinning, staring at the window. And he could tell he was
hurting her again. It struck against his heart, hurting her like this, making her feel she wasn't
wanted. Wasn't loved. When it was anything but.
"Fine. Go." She waved toward the door. "I'll take a shower by myself."
He came back down on her, keeping the sheet between them, clasping her head in his hands.
He stared at her face, at the eyes, the gray so soft, so filled with vulnerability. As if with each
word out of his mouth she was praying for something more. Praying for a dream that wasn't
going to happen. And he couldn't give her that dream, but damned if he had to hurt her any
further. He couldn't do it. Hurting her was ripping apart pieces of him that he thought had died
in that cell Fuentes kept him in.
"Wildcat." He nipped at her lips. Kissed them. Let himself love them, for just a moment. "If I stay, I'll never be ready on time. And your safety is more important, baby. More than you
know."
She stared up at him, softer now, a strange little smile on her lips, her arms curling around his
shoulders.
"Would you miss me if something happened to me, Noah?"
He felt his guts clench at the thought of anything happening to her. At so much as scratch
marring her flesh.
"I'd rain hell on someone if anything happened to you, Sabella," he whispered, staring down at
her, feeling a surge of emotion escaping that tight hold he'd tried to keep on it before. It was
building inside him, threatening to tear free, and he couldn't let it. Couldn't allow it. "I'd lose
the final shreds of sanity I've managed to hold on to, sweetheart. And neither of us wants that."
Her fingers tangled in his hair as she softened beneath him, and he couldn't help but taste her
lips. Lips so sweet and swollen from his kisses throughout the night. Lips that melted beneath
his and burned him with passion. Lips that nearly drove every thought from his mind but the
erection pulsing between his legs.
"God, you burn my brains." He moved back from her, plowing his fingers through his hair as
he jerked his boxers and jeans from the floor.
He dragged them over his legs as she sat up and watched him with hot, slumberous gray eyes.
He tucked the unruly flesh beneath the cotton and denim and eased the zipper up slowly as she
grinned.
"Seems a shame to waste it," she said as she slipped from the bed, proudly naked.
Noah swore he lost all the spit in his mouth as she strode from the bed. The curve of her ass
tempted him. The bare fink flesh between her thighs, those high, proud breasts and tight,
flushed nipples. Damn. He needed to fuck her just as bad as he had the first time he took her.
"I'm going to shower," she stated.
He groaned. "I'm getting my ass down to the apartment. Call me before you come down, so I
can watch for you."
"I'll call." She closed the door behind him as he forced himself to finish dressing.
Grabbing the cell phone, he hit Nik's number and waited.
"Yeah." Nik sounded wide awake.
"Where are you?"
"The apartment. Waited on your ass all night and you never showed up."
Noah grunted at the amused statement. "I'm heading that way. I need you to stand watch on the
house while I shower. Then we'll talk."
"Gotcha." Nik disconnected, as did Noah.
He dragged his boots on, then slung his chaps over his shoulder with a grin as he remembered
the look on her face when she had sucked him, his cock spearing out from his jeans, his legs in
those chaps. She'd damned near melted for him.
He gave his head a hard shake as he moved down the stairs and grabbed his shirt from the
floor, pulling it on. He found his jacket, his vest, and laid them with the chaps on the chair by
the door.
He checked the house out just to be on the safe side. Moved back upstairs, checked the spare
room and bathroom then returned to the front door.
He grabbed his leathers and stepped out, locking the door carefully behind him before moving
to the Harley. He checked it out, then checked out Sabella's little BMW, to be sure.
Everything was clean.
He stared around the area and breathed out roughly. Delbert Ransome was a rat, he'd squeal
high and hard once the feds put the screws to his ass, and they'd have the members of the Black
Collar Militia, and the . The man providing them information on the investigations that had
come through.
They had suspected Rick Grayson for a while, but the in-formation Noah had glimpsed in that
file said otherwise. What he knew about Rick told Noah otherwise. The man had dreamed of
being the local sheriff when he was a teenager. He wouldn't have turned on his badge.
That left someone in the local police department. Someone had revealed the three federal
agents, especially the young woman posing as a local college student. No one should have
known about her. No one.
As he pulled the Harley behind the garage Nik was coming down the stairs. He positioned
himself in a hidden corner at the side of the building where he'd have a clear view of the house,
but the cottonwood tree and the tall yucca plants almost hid him from view.
Damned Russian Viking. He was too fucking big to try to hide much of anywhere.
Shaking his head Noah strode quickly up the stairs and headed for the shower. Delbert's truck
wasn't at the garage, but the second word hit on the arrest, the gossip would start. It would
build like a damned bonfire. It was the fallout Noah had to watch for. The fallout that could
possibly ricochet back to Sabella. And that he couldn't allow.
That afternoon, Sabella walked down to the garage. Dressed in jeans and a sleeveless T-shirt,
another of Nathan's old work shirts as an overshirt, she strode into the garage and pulled the
roster from the mechanics' table.
Her gaze found Noah where he was bent beneath the hood of a late-model sedan. He wasn't as
interested in the motor though as he was in the vehicles pulling into the gas pumps and the
citizens moving into the convenience center.
Rory was manning pumps, laughing and chatting as he pumped gas. Toby was in the
convenience center, and by all appearances keeping steady business.
News had hit of the arrest of Delbert Ransome in the gruesome deaths of a young Mexican
couple. DNA taken from his truck was reputed to be suspected as matching that of the husband
of the couple. According to the news report droning on the television, Ransome would have
had to have run over the body several times for the physical evidence to have lodged where it
was reported to have been found.
The arrest had come from an anonymous tip, a hiker that had been in the area and recognized
Ransome's truck and Ransome running a man down.
The sheriff, Rick Grayson, had served the warrant, federal agents had been waiting at the
impound yard, and within hours had managed to find the physical evidence.
Noah turned back to look at her, eyes narrowed as she listened to the report, and she knew
damned good and well who had found that evidence, and where. He had found it while
Ransome's truck had been in
her
garage.
She inhaled slowly before letting her gaze wander over the garage and noticing one of her
mechanics missing. Chuck Leon wasn't much of a talker, but he'd never missed a day either.
"Where's Chuck?" She moved over to Noah and asked the question quietly.
"Don't know yet," he answered softly.
Sabella leaned closer. "He worked on Ransome's truck while it was here. Didn't he?"
"Uh-huh." Noah nodded before reaching in to test one of the connections on the wiring harness
of the sedan. "He did."
"Did you call him?" She lowered her voice further.
"Toby called. No answer." Noah's voice carried no further than her. "Go work on the car,
Sabella. Stay low and don't worry."
His gaze lifted at the sound of another vehicle pulling into the lot outside.
Sabella looked around the car and grimaced at the growing crowd. Nathan's garage had always
been a focal point for gossip. It was on the edge of town, but the front lot was large enough that
customers didn't have to worry about being blocked or how long they stayed. Old men stood
outside the door with coffee in hand muttering to one another. Customers met in various areas,
stopped, chatted, lingered to add to the gossip.
"Stay where I can see you," he muttered to Sabella, slicking a hard glance her way. "Every minute."
She looked outside then nodded shortly before returning to the sports car.
Noah watched the crowd ebb and flow outside, catching bits of the conversation and adding it
to the mental notes he was taking.
Ransome liked to run with several other men, names that hadn't come up during the
investigation, but names the unit would be running now.
There were reports coming in from the impound yard, via Jordan and Tehya, as well. The fact
that a federal marshal had poked his nose into the investigation. A man known as an associate
of Gaylen Patrick's. Jordan was running his background now.
And Delbert Ransome wasn't talking.
Added to that, Chuck Leon, the plant Noah suspected in the garage, was missing. When Micah
had checked out his small apartment in town, there had been signs of a struggle, and his cell
phone had been left lying beneath the couch, open, the last call to an unknown number. Coded.
He was starting to suspect Chuck was in a shitload of trouble and that perhaps one of the abc
agencies in Washington hadn't been up front with the Elite Ops contact about any agents in
place.
Something was going to hell in a handbasket, Noah could feel it.
Shaking his head, he moved from the car he was working on into the convenience center. He
walked to the back of the small store as the bell jangled again over the entrance door and he
caught a glimpse of the man stalking into the garage during a lull in customers.
Grant Malone.
Noah stared through the glass over the cooler, watching as Grant zeroed in on Rory as he
grabbed a soda from another cooler.
"What the hell is going on, Rory?" Grant seized his son's arm and jerked him around before
Rory could pull his arm out of his grasp.
"What the hell are you doing here?" Rory muttered. "Slumming?"
"Talking to an idiot," Grant hissed. "When are you going to get the hell out of this place? How many times do I have to warn you you're going to end up getting yourself in trouble?"
"Piss off," Rory snapped, and Noah could see the anger beginning to spew from both men.
"Just jack right out of town, huh? Forget the promises we gave Nathan before he went on that
mission, and just turn our backs on his wife?"
Noah clenched his hand around the water bottle as he stared at Grant Malone's back. At fifty-
five, he was still in peak condition. His hair was nearly fully gray, but his skin was swarthy, his
shoulders broad. Malone men didn't go down easy, and Grant was proving it.
"She won't listen to reason any more than you will," Grant snapped. "And you're endangering yourself here. Everyone's talking about that Ransome boy, and everyone knows that truck was
here, in this garage. What the hell did you find?"
Rory's expression was suitably shocked. "Have you lost your fucking mind?" He pushed his
father back. "If I'd found anything I'd taken Delbert apart myself. Damn you, is this how you're
going to destroy Sabella? Start this trashy little story so someone slips in and slices her fucking
throat?"
Enough was enough.
"Rory." Noah turned, snapped out his brother's name.
Both men turned to him. Grant's eyes narrowed, his fists clenched, as Noah walked toward
them slowly.
"You should be on the pumps." Noah nodded outside. "Toby can't handle those alone."
Rory wiped his hand over his face in irritation. "Hell. Just what the hell I need. You poking
your nose in this."
"What?" Grant looked over at Noah, his gaze hooded, brooding. "He's just sleeping with her.
What the hell does he care if she dies?" A second later, he was choking.
Noah ignored the nails digging at his wrists as he snapped his fingers around Grant's throat and
put him against the cooler, holding him in place with the sheer force of the rage transferring to
his hand.
"One of these days, someone's gonna cut that hand off," Rory muttered before stalking off
angrily.
Noah stared into his father's eyes. Flecks of green glittered in the Irish blue that stood out
against suddenly pale cheeks.
"You want to leave," Noah told him carefully. "You want to leave, and you don't want to come back here."
Grant stared back at him, there was no fear in his eyes, but there was a hint of knowledge that
Noah didn't want to see.
"That's enough." It was Sabella's voice that drew his attention.
He turned his head slowly, staring back at her.
"Let him go," she ordered between pale lips. "Now."
"Sabella, go finish that car," Noah suggested easily. "Mr. Malone and I are just having a
friendly little conversation."
Sabella looked outside the store. "You're about to have an audience. Let him go. Now."