Into the Fury (BOSS, Inc. #1)(100)

Pulling her up from the sofa into his arms, he led her into the bedroom and closed the door. Val clung to him, held on tight while she cried against his shoulder. She’d been so damned brave. Sometimes he forgot that normal for him was far from normal for her.

Hell, who was he kidding? This wasn’t even normal for him.

He kissed the top of her head and just held her. Dammit, she deserved a good cry.

She snuggled closer and her crying eased to soft little sobs. She was wearing a pair of Luke’s sweatpants and one of his faded army T-shirts instead of her wet clothes. He could feel her soft breasts pressing into his chest and, bastard that he was, he started getting hard.

Val sniffed and eased a little away. Ethan lifted the bottom of his T-shirt, found a Kleenex among the change of clothes he kept at the cabin, and used it to dry her tears. “You okay?”

She nodded. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that. It’s all just . . . so overwhelming.”

“Hey. You were really great back there. You were tough when you needed to be. You’ve got nothing to apologize for.”

She looked up at him, gave him a tremulous smile. Ethan felt the power of that smile all the way to the bottom of his boots. Jesus God, he was in love with her. Crazy in love. What a crappy time to figure it out.

His phone rang just then. He was still using the disposable. The fact that Luke could get cell service up here was one of the reasons he’d bought the property.

“It’s Sadie,” said the familiar voice on the other end of the line.

Ethan opened the bedroom door and walked back into the living room, the phone against his ear. Both men’s heads came up. Both looked guilty for making Val cry. Ethan just smiled.

“Hey, Sadie, what have you got?”

“Not a darn thing on Beau Desmond. He was a cop before he went private, just like it says in his file.”

“And Gallagher?”

“Valentine was right on the money. Bick Gallagher, aka Ray Bickford. Paramilitary. Worked in South America for a while. Showed up in Seattle three years ago.”

Ethan’s instincts started screaming. “South America. He connected to Julian Latham?”

“Not that I could find. Beau Desmond was the one who hired him at La Belle. I don’t know who recommended him. I have a hunch Desmond doesn’t know anything about Gallagher’s past. It was buried deep, Ethan. By someone who really knew what he was doing.”

“Desmond might not know who he is, but someone does. My guess—that someone paid him to kill Delilah Larsen. I want to talk to him. You got an address?”

Sadie rattled it off. “By the way, the shooting’s all over the news. Dirk and Pete were both mentioned. Said Dirk’s house was destroyed but Pete’s condition is good. Nothing about you or Val.”

“Glad Pete’s okay. Thanks, Sadie.” Ethan hung up and turned to the men. “It’s beginning to come together. I think it’s time we had that little chat with some of our closest friends. First on our list, Bick Gallagher, aka Ray Bickford. He’s paramilitary, worked in South America.”

“I never liked that prick,” Dirk said. “Gotta be connected to Latham.”

“Sadie couldn’t find it.”

“Doesn’t mean it’s not there,” Luke said.

“We talk to Gallagher, then talk to Stern.”

“Maybe you ought to call Hoover,” Dirk suggested. “Tell the cops Val recognized Gallagher as one of the shooters. If he’s carrying a bullet, they’ll at least be able to hold him.”

“Yeah, and if I do that, we won’t get a chance to have that chat. I want to know who he’s working for. We still don’t know who Gallagher had in his crosshairs. Could be me for digging into Latham, or it could be Val. Maybe whoever hired Gallagher thinks Val knows something—the same something Delilah found out. Hell, it could be anything.”

“Ethan’s right,” Luke said. “We need to get to Gallagher first.”

“If the guy took a bullet,” Dirk said, “there’s a good chance he’s already on the run.”

“Could be. If he is, we go to Stern. One of them’s going to tell us something—one way or another.”

Luke reached for the holstered weapon lying on the coffee table, pulled his customized M9 Beretta out and checked the load, then checked his ankle gun, a subcompact Glock 27.

Dirk’s Browning rode in his side holster. Ethan rechecked his Glock, slid it back into his shoulder holster. All three men were reloaded and ready. The phones had been recharged.

Ethan strode over to Val, pulled her into his arms, and very thoroughly kissed her. She was clinging to his shoulders by the time he was done. “Just a little longer, baby. Then this is over. Can you make it?”

“Do I have a choice?”

Ethan kissed her again, looked into her gorgeous blue eyes. “You’ll have one later.” He wondered if she understood the message, wondered if she would be willing to consider making a life with him.

Her eyes filled for the second time. She went up on her toes and kissed him. “Be careful.”

Ethan just nodded. He and Luke headed for the door.





Val sat in an overstuffed chair near the iron stove, where a small fire burned against the chill. Dirk stretched out on the brown plaid sofa, sound asleep, long legs hanging over the arm.