Heedless (The Hellbound Brotherhood #4) - Shannon McKenna Page 0,8
blame them? But they needed to reframe this ugly problem as a unique opportunity.
He tapped the screen, sending the results to the secure encrypted message board they had started using ever since Kimball hacked their phones a few days ago. State-of-the-art spyware that had taken even Eric, tech god extraordinaire, by surprise. Kimball had gotten surveillance devices into their homes, their cars, Demi’s restaurant. Fucking everywhere. Even his apartment, so he, personally, was on Redd Kimball’s radar. Yay.
He must have a death wish, placing himself in the sights of a sociopathic sadist, but he just couldn’t help himself. Even aside from his longstanding friendship and loyalty to Mace and Anton Trask, and more recently to Eric, that son of a bitch Redd Kimball just pushed all of his hot buttons. The man was a bully, and Nate fucking hated bullies. He hated them beyond all reason. Kimball had terrorized the Trask boys when they were children. He’d terrorized Fiona since she was fourteen years old. And he just kept at it. He would never forgive them for messing with his fucked-up plots and plans, and he would not stop until they were dead.
So, fuck that guy. Kimball was coming down. And Nate was here for it.
Just in the past few weeks, Redd Kimball had gone to incredible lengths to destroy the older two Trask brothers, Anton and Eric, as well as Demi and Fi. He hadn’t succeeded, but it wasn’t for lack of focus or meticulous planning.
Kimball just hadn’t factored in how hard it would be to kill the Trasks. So now he was biding his time. Stalking them. Waiting for his moment.
That was the opening they needed. But it would require patience, iron self-control, a strong stomach and constant vigilance, to go about their lives, acting normal, just letting that bastard watch. Letting him think they had no clue.
Operation Smoke Screen started tonight, right there at the wedding reception, and he was the dumbass to volunteer for the final sweep, knowing that Kimball was watching every move through that video camera mounted in the smoke detector.
At least he had an excuse to be here. It was obvious as all fuck that he was loitering for a chance to stare at Elisa as she sashayed around in her tight black pants and ruby red shirt. Everyone knew he had a thing for her. Probably even Kimball knew it at this point.
His eyes followed Elisa as she briskly directed the people carrying in the flower arrangements. She caught his eye, and he looked away. Not fast enough.
Busted. His heart sped up as she strode toward him with that I’m-taking-no-more-of-your-shit look in her eyes. Nate exited the app as she bore down on him.
“Nate, what on earth are you doing in here?” she demanded. “The guests will be here any time now. Demi and Eric are getting pictures taken in the rock garden on the bluffs, so why don’t you just go and join them? We’re taking care of last-minute details in here, and you are underfoot. Go get your picture taken with the bride and groom.” Her golden eyes flashed down over his suit, making him self-conscious. He didn’t wear suits often, and he felt ridiculous. But the suit coat covered the gun.
Oh, well. His work here was basically done. The bug sweep was concluded, the results shared, now they just had to decide how to use the data. He slipped the sweeper into his jacket pocket. “I’ve tried to stay out of your way,” he said. “You know this event has big security issues.”
“Really? In the dining room? While we’re getting the place ready? Go be useful. Guard Eric and Demi out on the bluff. You’re distracting me. Us, I mean.”
He saw from the flash in her golden eyes that she regretted the slip.
“Sorry,” he murmured. “Okay, I’ll get lost. On one condition.” He braced himself for the inevitable slap-down.
“What is that?” Her eyes narrowed.
“I want that dance,” he said, because what the hell. He had nothing to lose.
Elisa’s mouth formed an ‘o,’ and froze there for a moment.
He let out a slow sigh of resignation. “That’s a ‘hell, no,’ I take it.’”
“Nate, try to understand. I’m not a trained caterer or restauranteur. I just recently picked up this stuff from working with Demi. The truth is, I am still totally improvising, and I am miles outside my comfort zone. So I do not feel like burning up the dance floor tonight. Please don’t take it personally.”