Claiming Felicity (Ace Security #4)(67)

Just as his finger began to squeeze the trigger to take out Joseph’s knee, he watched in disbelief as a man strode into the middle of the standoff as if he didn’t even notice six guns pointed at each other.

“Garrick Watson,” he said under his breath, letting his brothers know who the newcomer was.

Rex had sent a picture of the man after he’d been informed about the entire situation. He looked nothing like what someone might think a Mob boss should look like. He wasn’t very tall—a couple of inches under six feet. His black hair was longish, swept forward over his forehead much like Justin fucking Bieber’s. The style looked ridiculous on the older man. He was wearing a pair of skinny jeans and a white polo buttoned up all the way to his chin. A black suit jacket completed his ensemble.

Ryder might’ve have called him feminine if it wasn’t for the absolute lack of emotion on the man’s face. It was a ruthless look that Ryder had seen on many an assassin’s face. He was a man without scruples or tenderness. He’d read the file on Garrick Watson and intellectually knew the man wasn’t exactly Mother Teresa, but even if he hadn’t read the file on the stranger walking among them, he’d know with one glance he wasn’t someone he wanted to be on the wrong side of.

And that, Ryder supposed, was how the man had gotten so powerful in Chicago. Lack of remorse, lack of compassion, and someone who had no difficulty getting rid of problems permanently, all combined to make him one scary motherfucker.

Knowing Garrick didn’t teleport to the clearing, Ryder glanced behind him and saw a shiny sleek Lincoln Town Car parked behind their vehicles on the dirt road. Two muscular men stood in front of it, their arms crossed. Turning back to the scene in front of him, Ryder knew shit would get ugly real fast if something happened to Garrick, as his bodyguards wouldn’t hesitate to shoot to kill, but for now, Joseph and his father were his concern.

Ryder’s finger twitched on the trigger of his pistol. He so badly wanted to take out both Joseph and Garrick, but he held back, needing to see how the situation would play itself out.

As if seeing the same thing in the older man that he did, Felicity slowly began to limp her way backward toward him. Ryder kept his attention split between Joseph and his father, but sighed in relief when Felicity reached him. He shoved her behind him roughly and waited.

“Joseph, what did I tell you?” Garrick asked his son, taking the exact spot where Felicity had been, standing between the brothers and his son. He seemingly had no concerns about the four men with guns pointed at his back.

“Dad, what are you doing here?” Joseph whined.

“Cleaning up after you . . . again,” Garrick bit out, his tone a little less congenial now.

Ryder glanced over at Logan for a split second. When he caught the other man’s eyes, Ryder merely shrugged his shoulders, indicating he wasn’t sure how this was going to play out and they should stay on their toes.

“There’s nothing to clean up, Dad,” Joseph said, the fake bravado easy to hear in his voice.

“The fuck there’s not,” Garrick returned. “Do you have any idea who you’re messing with?”

“She needs to learn her lesson,” Joseph tried again.

“Fuck her, she’s not important,” his dad said.

Ryder didn’t like hearing anyone say that the woman he loved wasn’t important, but he held his tongue.

“Mountain Mercenaries. Does the name ring any bells?” Garrick bellowed at his son. “Have you not heard one fucking thing I’ve said over the years about discretion?”

“You don’t understand,” Joseph tried again. “She butted into my life back then, and she needs to learn her place. Women don’t matter. You’ve said it yourself. It’s why you and my uncles aren’t married. Because women are second-class citizens and not worthy of our attention.”

“Then why are you giving her so much of your attention?” Garrick asked.

Ryder kept his gun trained on Joseph. At the moment, he was more of a threat than his father.

“She needs to pay,” Joseph said again, stubbornly sticking to his point.

“If you don’t put down your weapons and come with me right now, you will single-handedly ruin everything I’ve built over the last thirty years,” Garrick said with a hint of steel in his voice. “Tell Mr. Anderson where you stashed his son, and this’ll all be over. You’ll come back to Chicago with me, we’ll compensate him for any mental anguish you put him and his family through, and this’ll be done.”

“No!” Joseph exclaimed. “I won’t.”

Garrick took a step toward his son. “Where is the infant?” he asked in a low tone.

Joseph’s eyes went from his father to Felicity.

Ryder put out a hand and made sure she was still covered. She was. She was standing stock-still behind him. Letting him protect her. Trusting him. Even though the situation sucked, he felt a wave of love move through him.

“Look at me, son.” When Joseph complied, Garrick continued. “We do not want the Mountain Mercenaries up our ass. Understand? Tell me where the infant is.”

“No.” Joseph sounded petulant, but absolutely unbending.

“I don’t know where I went wrong with you,” Garrick said with a shake of his head. “When you were born, I had such high hopes. You were inquisitive and smart. But by the time you were in the fifth grade, you were already showing signs of being a bully. You never understood that ruling people through respect and a little bit of fear is so much more effective than berating them constantly and using blackmail.