2-Bound By Law (10 page)

“Don’t.” Law pointed at him.

“I was comforting you—that’s allowed, you know. You can break down every once in a while.”

Law’s eyes were wet, but they still glittered with anger. “You don’t know me anymore—stop acting like you know me so well.”

“But I do.”

Law was about to come at him again, but he turned instead, paced a little in front of the old stone wall, muttering to himself.

“Come inside, talk to him,” Styx urged. “You can’t go anywhere in this weather anyway, and it’s too fucking cold out here.”

“I have nothing to say to him. To you.”

“You have everything to say to him. You know that as well as I do.”

Chapter Seven

Paulo leaned back into the couch cushions and cursed himself silently. It was true, what he’d told Styx earlier—Law certainly didn’t need to be protected, but that was all Paulo wanted to do.

Styx was as protective of Law as Paulo was. He understood everything—and really, he should’ve been Paulo’s greatest adversary. Instead, the man was on his side, leaving Paulo confused as hell.

What the fuck was it about Law that had twisted him inside out from the second he’d laid eyes on the man?

The sex, for sure. Law knew his way around a man’s body and had this way of focusing on you like you were the only goddamned person that ever existed in the world. Which was why the man pretty much had him at the first kiss.

Paulo didn’t know if Law was like that with everyone and didn’t really want to think about it, but Law made him feel like he mattered, like every touch and lick and suck was all about Paulo…like nothing mattered but keeping him happy.

Law’s focus in bed had been the stuff of legends. There were rumors running rampant at Crave—and beyond—about his prowess. About how he rarely went with the same man twice, refused dates, offers to be taken on vacation.

Paulo heard the rumors before he’d ever laid eyes on the man and those alone had made him want to meet Law.

The one making the rounds at the time was that a wealthy businessman from New York flew down on weekends just for time in Law’s bed. That he’d offered Law trips in private jets to the Caribbean, had offered him everything, but Law refused. That the businessman hadn’t been the first to make him those kinds of offers.

Paulo knew now that it wasn’t true—at least it didn’t happen more than once. But when Paulo saw Law for the first time, he understood immediately. He just gave off the air of a bad boy—it wasn’t faked. It was an I-don’t-give-a-fuck attitude mixed with blond hair, blue eyes, rugged good looks. Tall, lean-muscled…he screamed sex. Always looked like he’d just been fucking, too—his hair tousled, a glint in his eye, the smile that was slow to come…but once it did, holy hell, that was all it took for Paulo.

And he’d never been easy to please. Not like this.

Paulo remembered muttering something after Law blew him about a fucking fantasy come true.

Law had looked up at him. “Is that what I am to you—a fantasy? Because if I’m that to you, you’re more fucked up than I thought.”

Paulo had just smiled and yanked Law on top of him. It was hot and rough and it had been everything Paulo had been hoping for.

The man lived up to the hype, probably because he hadn’t been hyping himself. Law never talked about his exploits to anyone, as Paulo soon learned.

He’d found out soon enough that Law appreciated him not spreading the word either. In fact, Law had told him it was one of the reasons he’d seen Paulo again.

When Law’s eyes had locked on him, Paulo felt it as hard as a physical touch. But the first time Paulo had actually spoken to Law was inside the hospital, away from the vibe of the club.

Law had this way of focusing on you totally—made you feel like you were the most important person in the world both in and out of bed…and so damned safe, when his big body covered Paulo.

Took a lot to make a cop feel safe, but Law managed to.

Paulo had seen him do it in non-sexual situations. The first time was when he saw Law refuse to leave Kevin’s side at the hospital. Kevin had been attacked and raped outside of Crave by JP, a man Law ultimately helped to take down. Paulo had listened in and heard Law telling Kevin that it wasn’t his fault, that he should go get some counseling and never let it fuck with his head.

Paulo had assumed Law had firsthand knowledge on the subject. And he had, in a way, lived through Damon’s gang rape and borne the guilt.

Now, Paulo was able to put together more details—that fact that Styx disappeared the night Damon had been hurt and how all that tragedy was rolled together for Law.

But that first day into night they’d spent together after Paulo propositioned him at the diner, neither had talked about their childhoods—it was something Paulo almost studiously avoided bringing up.

Instead, Law talked about the club, what often happened behind the scenes… He’d been so damned entertaining.

And they’d talked movies—Law loved them—new and old. Music, too, and he’d approved of Paulo’s collection.

They’d fucked to Foghat and then some Barry White that made Law laugh.

In between, Law talked to him a bit about the military, what it had been like qualifying for Delta, but he’d avoided talk of combat. Paulo understood—once you’d been in it, you didn’t want to discuss any of it.

The man had scars on his body and that first morning, he’d moved a little stiffly when he’d woken up. Paulo wanted to question him, especially when he’d noticed the old cigarette burns on Law’s hip, but he hadn’t.

One of Paulo’s first busts as a detective had included a horrific case of child abuse—he’d learned more on the subject than he’d ever wanted to know.

He’d given Law a couple of Advil and water—Law had narrowed his eyes at that but he’d taken it—and then Paulo had pulled Law back into bed and given him a massage that turned to sex.

And then he’d done some investigating, but that had happened later, after Law had been hurt. Paulo had stumbled on some information that led him to more—and although he was pissed at himself that he’d done it, it had given him an immediate understanding of many things concerning Law.

Now, Styx was telling him there was more to the story. More than living with broken bones and broken dreams through most of childhood, and Jesus, he had to stop thinking about those details in the file because they made him sick and angry all at once.

He checked out the side window, saw Paulo and Law pacing and talking…obviously, they were still fighting.

Restlessly, he prowled the house, stopping when he hit the front door. He looked beyond the curtain toward the woods. It was dark and it was snowing and maybe he’d just seen a shadow of nothing…

But no…something—someone—was out there. Fuck.

He grabbed a pair of binoculars Styx had left on the kitchen table and used them as surreptitiously as possible. Honed in on a man lying on the ground, covered in snow, with a rifle and a scope, pointing in Law and Styx’s direction.

The shooter was so busy trying to get a clean shot at both men together that he didn’t see Paulo taking aim with the hunting rifle he took from the table in favor of his pistol, which he shoved into the back of his jeans. He was intimately aquatinted with rifles from his youth, could take down a buck at one hundred yards. Perps, too.

He took advantage of the window in the bathroom that gave him a good shot. He eased it open carefully, could hear Law and Styx talking loudly. He placed the rifle on the ledge and his hands steadied—he was grateful that Law and Styx were arguing physically, because had they been standing still, the shooter wouldn’t be hesitating.

There wasn’t time to be nervous any longer. Paulo aimed right between the eyes, and the shot rang through the air and hit its mark. He remained in place, waiting to see if the man moved again, even as Styx and Law came running through the back door.

They were in and safe. Paulo left the rifle, and he pulled his pistol out of his pocket and ran out the front door, aware that Styx was following behind him. Paulo headed to the man he’d shot, his cop’s instinct kicking in hard, went to his knees and felt for a pulse.

None. He rolled the man, saw the mark between his eyes—a damned good and clean shot—and was checking for ID when Styx knelt next to him.

“Check the woods, Law.” Styx handed Law his gun and in that moment, Paulo looked up and saw the jungle in Law’s eyes, the soldier readying for recon.

“Hey, Paulo, you okay?” Styx was asking, and Paulo turned from watching Law’s back into the dark green eyes of the man in front of him.

“Fine. You recognize him?”

“No.”

Paulo handed him the perp’s wallet and Styx looked through it. “I’ll call Tomcat to run it, but this means we’re made. We’ve got to try to outrun this storm.”

“And hope this guy’s working alone,” Paulo said grimly.

Paulo hadn’t hesitated—the shot was clean, decisions made in what was no doubt mere seconds, and Styx had seen agency guys crack under similar pressure.

Instead, Paulo had thrived and had continued to keep control of the situation…until he’d realized how close the man lying dead on the ground had come to killing Law and started to lose it a little. Styx could see it in his face when he’d looked up into Law’s.

But once Styx gave him a job, he’d snapped to. “Paulo, head inside and start packing whatever you can into the truck. We’re out of here ASAP.”

Paulo nodded, took his pistol and moved fast across the lawn as Law came out of the woods.

“Woods are clear. Found his truck parked up the road and partially into the woods.” Law held some papers. “Registration and insurance under the name Donald Orlandi.”

Styx didn’t have to ask if Law had wiped his prints.

“Looks like he came alone. Doesn’t mean he didn’t broadcast this intel to everyone,” Law continued. “Is your father known to work with a group?”

“He definitely outsources,” Styx confirmed. “We’ve got to bolt. I’ll take care of the body—help Paulo pack the truck. Take everything. Once we find a new place, we’re not leaving for a while.”

“You got this?” Law looked between the body and Styx, and when he nodded, Law took off toward the house.

Styx covered the body hurriedly and decided to leave the guy’s truck where he’d parked it, well out of sight. There wasn’t enough time to do what he wanted to do right now, but he could work with this.

Paulo and Law had worked fast. They’d stripped the house, taking everything they could, including the gasoline so they wouldn’t have to stop as often. The three men got into the truck, Styx insisting they remain in the back, even though the windows were heavily darkened.

The storm had started to take hold—blizzard-like conditions popped up very quickly, and Styx moved along in the heavy truck, needing to put as much space between him and the old safe house as possible.

“There has to be a leak, Styx,” Paulo said finally, and Styx nodded, the possibility of who and why having rolled around in his mind since he’d buried the man under snow and leaves.

“It’s not Tomcat,” he said finally, and Paulo agreed. Law was strangely silent and the tension radiating off him was understandable.

Styx finally called Tomcat.

“Problem?”

“Big time.” He filled the man in quickly, heard him cursing on the other end of the line. “We’re headed farther up.”

“Good. You let me know when you stop. You check in with me every half an hour.” Tomcat sounded angry and he never hid that emotion when someone wronged Styx, something Styx always appreciated.

“I have a name on the registration.” He read the information as he kept an eye on the road.

“I’ll dispatch a cleaner to take care of everything,” Tomcat promised. “You’re all okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Tell Paulo he did good. And check in,” Tomcat said, and Styx hung the phone up and put it in the cup holder. It was time for both hands on the wheel.

They were quiet as hell for the next part of the drive, with Styx and Law and Paulo all watching their sixes, but after a while it became apparent they hadn’t been followed.

And three exhausting hours later, he pulled onto a small road that had no signs to alert anyone there was even a road, let alone a house in these parts.

The safe house was one Styx and Tomcat had used in the early days. Styx kept up on the bills so he knew the heat was on and the water was running. He’d hired a groundskeeper to look after the place and it had been mortgaged under a fake name.

He barely got the car up the driveway but managed to get it into the attached garage he and Tomcat had built for this specific purpose. It was steel-lined, and he breathed a sigh of relief as the door closed down behind them and the light in the garage flickered on.

“No generator, but we’ve got flashlights and a fireplace if we lose power.” The way the light was going in and out with the wind, that would happen soon.

“I’ll start the fire.” Paulo started grabbing the wood stored along the wall in the garage under a tarp. He heaved some logs and went inside after Styx unlocked the doors.

Styx checked in with Tomcat and then set a few battery-powered alarms around the place.

There was no way out now and, from the looks of things, no way in.

Styx and Law carried in the rest of the stuff in silence, and by the time the food was in the fridge and the other supplies laid out, Paulo had a nice fire going.

It was just in time, too, because the lights sputtered and died. Styx grabbed a few lanterns from the closet, put them in the kitchen and the living room.

“This couch pulls out,” he said. “I’ve got a sleeping bag for the floor.”

“I’m going to shower before we lose the hot water.” Paulo took one of the lanterns and found his way to a bathroom. He hadn’t stopped to grab any clothing but there were plenty of towels.

Paulo had saved them both, but he was still freaked—and pissed, no doubt, at the way Law continued to ignore him.

“He’s pissed.”

“So am I.” Law was pulling out the sofa bed, putting on sheets. “He should never have dug around my past like that.”

“He loves you,” Styx said, like that explained everything, and it probably did, but Law never wanted anyone to know his vulnerabilities. “Would you have ever told him?”