As I pull away, my hand grazes something hard on Brax’s hip. Intrigued, I lift up the hem of his t-shirt, and I’m shocked to find the butt of a handgun sitting in a holster attached to his jeans. I gasp and pull my hand away immediately. He frowns at me, then I see his eyes widen as he clicks.
“Elle, let me…” he stutters.
“What the f**k is that, Brax?” I start shaking visibly at the realization my hand had touched a gun; the same type of weapon that tore my family away from me.
Shay and Devon stop shouting at the game, and the room is suddenly silent as they stare at us, probably wondering what the hell is going on.
“Elle, it was time I armed myself. We can’t be too careful. “
“No shit, Sherlock, but why are you wearing it at home?” I’ve taken a step back from him now. My hands are on my hips, and the look on my face must be deadly because Brax honestly looks shocked at my reaction, and scared.
“Babe, you know the threats against you. You’ve already been shot. I need it so that I can protect you.”
I can feel my resolve fading now because he’s right. “I suppose. It just brings it all home that there are actually people out there that want to hurt me. “I bite my bottom lip, willing it to stop trembling.
I look up at Brax and his eyes go soft. “We would never let anyone hurt you again. Right, boys?” He looks at both Devon and Shay who still looked shell shocked at her outburst. “Hell, no,” they say in unison.
“I just want you all to be careful. I couldn’t stand losing anyone else.” A lone tear falls down my cheek. Brax pulls me in to his chest and hugs me tight, running his arm up and down my back.
“I love you so much,” he murmurs into my hair, tenderly kissing my temple. “No one is going to get past us again.”
In the space of a month, my whole life has spiraled out of control. Once I was sitting pretty; I had a house, a wife whom I adored, and a job that paid very well and that at times I actually enjoyed.
Now, I’ve been blacklisted by Victor, written off by Harry Brimstone, and my wife has kicked me out of my own house. Well, the bank’s house now.
I’m a desperate man, down to his last five hundred in the bank. I have no job, no wife, no backup plan, and to be honest, no f**king idea how I’m going to dig myself out of this deep ass hole.
Then it hits me. I don’t need Harry Brimstone to tell me what to do next. The plan hasn’t changed, it’s just that I’m the only free man left to carry it through. But this time it’s for me.
It is my turn.
That little twerp Brax is the one to blame for this. For all of it. If he kept his dick in his pants, Elle would have sold the company to Harry, and he would have given me my cut. The $100,000 I needed to save my house.
Brax needs to pay. I may not be able to go up against the might of Victor Bertorelli, but I can definitely give Brax a taste of his own medicine. I found their little tracker under my car. Bet they thought they’d outsmarted me.
Pay back is a bitch. I’m gonna teach Brax that he’s not invincible. It doesn’t matter who he’s working for. Desperate times call for desperate measures, and I’m on a one way ticket to hell anyway.
What have I got to lose?
18
It’s been a quiet week, all things considered. I’ve had classes almost every day, and Brax, Shay and Devon have been taking shifts watching me. When Brax told me about Victor’s phone call about Gibbons, I was uneasy, but I still don’t see why he would come after me. With Harry Brimstone out on bail and stuck in LA, I expect the threats against me to dissipate. But despite telling Brax I’d be fine, I do feel safe knowing that they are continually watching me. They all still act like I’m made of glass, but I do find it endearing.
Shay and Devon have been at our place a lot. It’s been nice. I love seeing Brax connecting with his brother again. I know there is a lot of history there, none of it helped by Michael Evans, but they’re definitely proving that blood is thicker than water. Devon is like a dirtier, cruder version of Brax, so he’s constantly making me laugh.
We’ve all decided to go out for pizza tonight, so after getting ready, Brax and I leave the apartment and head downstairs to walk the few blocks to the pizzeria. Stepping outside the building, the cool spring air caresses my bare arms. It’s getting lighter at night, so the purple tinged sky is breath taking.
“I love this time of year,” I say to Brax as I pull my body tighter into his as we walk.
“Me too. I love Summer even more, though. The hot days, the even hotter nights...” He waggles his brows at me, and I slap him in jest.
“We’ll just have to see about that, won’t we?”
He stops in the middle of the sidewalk and turns to face me. “Darlin’, I’m planning on many more hot summers with you. I hope you know that.” He leans down and nips my bottom lip with his teeth, I respond eagerly, grabbing his hair in my hands and holding his mouth to mine as we kiss.
I hear a wolf whistle come from beside me. We both turn our heads to find Shay and Devon standing near us with huge grins.
“Maybe you two should get a room,” Devon muses, giving me a sly wink.
“Maybe you two should not be late. I’m starving,” I retort.
Shay steps up, opening the restaurant door for me. “We can’t keep the lady waiting gentleman. Let’s eat.”
After picking a booth, we order some drinks and the boys bicker about a baseball game that has just finished. Before too long, three piping hot pizzas are placed on our table and they all go silent as they begin stuffing their faces.
“I just need to go to the restroom,” I tell them as Brax slides out of the booth to let me pass, giving me a quick peck on the cheek as I walk by.
I walk down the corridor to the ladies, barely reaching the door when I feel myself being pulled from behind into an open supply closet. I panic and try to throw them off, but I can’t scream. A hand wraps around my mouth and I feel some sort of fabric being held against my nose. I hold my breath, trying not to breathe in the sweet smelling vapors, but it’s too late. My mind goes hazy; it’s like the edge of my consciousness has become blurred. My eyelids feel heavy as lead, and my whole body feels stiff like I can barely move it.
The person behind me drags me backwards. I try to struggle with him, kicking and throwing my legs out, but my movements are staggered. Suddenly, everything feels like it is running in slow motion, except my heart which feels ready to beat out of my chest. There’s a lump in my throat as I grasp that this is actually happening. It is not an out of body experience, not one of my nightmares. I’m being kidnapped just meters away from the three men tasked to protect me. I’m thrown against the wall of a supply closet like a limp rag doll, my mind stuck in the limbo of consciousness as I feel an arm curl under my legs and then my body being lifted up and carried towards the restaurant’s back door.