in shops all over Caspar.” He willed her to accept that. “You know we took money from the Swords and their billionaire president.”
She took a breath and dug her chin back into his chest, her eyes meeting his. “What does the club do to earn money?”
There it was. He either was honest, with those eyes of hers staring into his, or he lied, and she’d know it. “You sure you want to know, baby? Because we’re in a gray area here.”
“I have to know if I can live with it.”
He had to take a chance. Either way was a risk. “We hunt pedophiles. We hunt for children that need to be taken from them. We hunt for trafficking rings. In order to do those things, we stay in good with other clubs. We sometimes take jobs escorting people through a territory. Or we eliminate threats to others. We’re careful, but we do what we were trained to do.”
He didn’t take his gaze from hers. She stared at him for a very long time. He heard the clock ticking. He wanted to put his arms around her and hold her as tightly as he could, but he made himself stay relaxed as if this moment wasn’t every bit as important as every other moment since he’d asked her to tell him she loved him.
“You were trained as assassins.”
He nodded. “Yes, we were.”
“Is that what you do best?”
Was it? He frowned at her. “Maybe. I don’t know. We’re damn good. I’m as good at killing as I am at saving lives, probably better, but I don’t know if that’s what we do best. I’d have to say it’s hunting pedophiles. We started perfecting our technique at a very young age. We were like a wolf pack, spreading out, each of us doing his or her job in order to find them, corner them and kill them without getting caught.”
She pressed a kiss over his heart and looked back up at him. Waiting.
“They set traps for us, but we always stuck to the plans. Always. No one deviated, because that meant death. We’re good at it, baby, maybe the best in the world.”
“Okay then.”
“Okay?”
“Just don’t get caught in traps or deviate from the plans. I want my man alive.”
Relief swept through him. It was so strong that he felt weak. “Need sleep, baby. Just stay there and close your eyes.” He glanced at the clock. “I told the others we’d leave after ten. We’re buying you new boots and don’t give me shit. You need them.” He tipped her face up, took her mouth and kissed her thoroughly.
She laid her head on his chest and he let himself drift off, knowing Maestro and Keys had just switched shifts so the other could sleep. Breezy was well guarded.
FOURTEEN
They arrived in Slidell, Louisiana, at five in the morning. They’d made good time but stopping had been necessary and that had slowed them down. Steele was getting edgy over the delays. Now it was growing light and all of them were tired. He needed them at their sharpest. They had rented a house neighboring their target overlooking the lake, and they slept, taking turns keeping eyes on the house where Bridges was most likely holding Zane.
The information Steele had gotten from Bruiser and then Scalp had been enough to bring them here. This was where Bridges’s old man had a family home. It was right on the lake, a large estate, and the last three of Bridges’s texts had come from this area. Code had the exact address and had informed them that Boone was most likely in residence because every other family member was gone. It stood to reason that if Bridges was in the area, he would be at that family estate.
The Abernathy estate was comprised of several acres overlooking the lake. The house was enormous, reputed to be twelve thousand square feet with six bedrooms and as many full bathrooms and a couple of half baths.
Code had gotten the plans to the house and sent them. It had a marble foyer and grand staircase, a sunroom and a private library with a separate entrance, which was good for them. They had the locations of each bedroom and bath, formal dining room and massive kitchen. Code even found which security company was used and had managed to get a hold of the actual layout for it. That was Code. If it was digital anywhere, it was his.