Wicked Shadows (Steele Security Book 5) Read online

  The words were right there—waiting to be said.

  “Just thinking about how busy you’ll be with production and promotion. You’ll have me pushed out of the picture in no time.”

  If he made it seem like it was her idea, his absence would be easier for her to accept. He wanted to give her that much peace about it.

  “You really think I’d choose any role over you?”

  “You’d have to, Elle. You’re bound by contract. If you ever want to work on another movie, you can’t worry about me.”

  Her eyes lit with fiery anger, though she contained her voice. “I know exactly what you’re doing, Devon Kane, and it won’t fucking work on me.”

  Her change in demeanor was unexpected. He immediately realized his reverse psychology tactic would fail miserably on her, and he needed to contain the situation.

  “Elle—”

  “Don’t Elle me. I offered to quit and go with you wherever you go. That’s how much you mean to me and how little acting means compared to you. Yes, I love it, but I’ve achieved it. I don’t need more and more of it to feed my self-worth. I need you, more than anything or anyone.

  “I’ve allowed this long-distance romance because it was convenient and what we both needed at the time. But that’s not how I want the rest of my life to be, and I don’t believe you do either.”

  He couldn’t argue—and she was on a roll and wouldn’t let him get a word in anyway.

  “Whatever happened that made you so closed off has to be dealt with in some way. Talk to me about it, talk to a therapist, decide to let it all go and move on—whatever works for you. But I didn’t get this far by being a shrinking violet who’s afraid to speak up for what I want. And I’m no one’s doormat. You’ve had time to come to this conclusion on your own, but you haven’t. Not fully committed anyway. So I’m calling your bluff. What was it you and Jeff used to say? Oh, yeah—shit or get off the pot.”

  Fuck, you have no idea how much I love you, he thought.

  The flight attendant returned to pick up their items before the captain announced they were arriving at LAX. Though she was disappointed they hadn’t finished their conversation, she had every intention of resuming it as soon as they were locked away in her bedroom. And she wouldn’t let Devon out until he’d given his word and a solid commitment for their future.

  Before she’d fallen asleep on the plane, her mind and heart were heavy with turmoil and pain. All those awful thoughts about Devon had taken a serious toll on her ability to be rational. The sight of the dead man, Devon’s proximity to him, the evil man who kept smiling at her—it all crashed down on her at once, compounded by the end of the best two weeks she’d ever had.

  When she’d opened her eyes after her nap, Devon was the first person she saw. His proximity was the protective and calming presence she needed. There was never a time when he didn’t hold a special place in her heart, in one way or another. And there wasn’t a day she wanted to pass without him in it. The clarity she had was refreshing; the vision she had of their future was bright.

  She knew who she wanted, needed, and loved. It was time for Devon to admit the same.

  The cab ride back to her apartment was a stark contrast from the laid-back atmosphere of the island. Despite how long she’d lived in LA, she was amazed at how easily she adapted to St. Lucia and the privacy it afforded. The packed LA interstates, with all the angry drivers and crowded lanes, assaulted the island tranquility she brought home with her.

  Devon carried her bags up to the apartment, walking behind her as she fished her keys from her purse. She breezed in, quickly reacclimating to the four walls with city-street-view accommodations she called home.

  “Beth, we’re back. Are you here?” Elle moved through the small living space, looking for but not finding her best friend. “Looks like we have the place to ourselves.”

  Devon gave her a small smile and set her suitcases down beside where he stood. It was then she realized he didn’t have his own bags in his hands. She began shaking her head from side to side, fighting back the lump in her throat and the tears in her eyes.

  Unsuccessfully.

  In a couple of steps, he stood directly in front of her and began his prepared speech. He kept reminding himself his decision was best for her. He’d put her in enough danger. He’d risked her safety too many times. He’d wasted enough of her time.

  His big hand cupped her cheek, and she leaned into it. The tears spilled over her bottom lids and covered her face. She didn’t bother to wipe them away—they wouldn’t stop anytime soon.

  “Elle, I should’ve told you this a long time ago, but I couldn’t. I’ve selfishly tried to hold on to you, and to keep you holding on to me. You deserve better—you deserve to have everything you’ve ever wanted.”

  His other hand covered her other cheek and held her gaze directly on his face. He leaned in and kissed her sweetly, longingly, hauntingly. When he pulled back, he finally muttered the words that would release her. She’d finally know the truth.

  “I love you, Elle. More than my life. More than anyone or anything. I’ll love you and only you, all my life. You’re my girl—forever.”

  Her heart disintegrated.

  He released his hold on her and backed away. With his hand on the doorknob, he pulled it shut as he backed into the corridor. The symbolic wall separated them. The door had literally been shut. She no longer questioned his feelings for her or how much he loved her. But he had to walk away. He had to give her her life back, no matter how much it killed him to live without her, without the anticipation of seeing her again, without the thrill of making love to her again.

  He slid into the back seat of the waiting taxi and rode back to LAX. To the gate with the Miami-bound flight. To the only life he’d ever really known.

  To a quiet condo.

  With an ocean view that reminded him of Elle.

  To a cold, empty bed that only taunted him with a chance to sleep but not exactly delivering on that promise.

  And to a life of loneliness and emptiness in the wicked shadows of what once might have been.

  The door closed between them with Elle frozen where she stood. Though she’d known and felt a major shift in his demeanor, she ignored her instincts, all the red flags her heart tried to warn her about. Unable to move, she waited where he left her standing, hoping he’d return on his own.

  She had no idea how much time had passed when the door finally began to swing open. Hope sprang up in her chest, ratcheting her heart rate up as excitement and anticipation grew. She waited to see his handsome face, read his thoughts behind his dark blue eyes, and lose herself when his muscular arms wrapped her in the safety of his embrace.

  “Elle? What’s wrong? What happened?” The questions rushed from Beth the moment she saw the despondent expression on her friend’s face. The tears flowed freely down Elle’s cheeks, leaving tracks in her makeup.

  Afraid to tear her eyes from Elle in her current condition, Beth made a quick glance around the apartment and spotted the suitcases still sitting beside Elle. Then she knew whatever had caused the current dilemma, it revolved around Devon.

  Beth’s heart hurt for her friend, knowing only time would lessen the pain, while never fully eliminating it. She locked the door, took Elle by the hand, and led her to the bathtub. She ran a hot bath and tossed in a lavender bath bomb.

  “Undress and get in, love. I’ll make us both some chamomile tea, and you can fill me in on what happened. Or, you can just lay your head in my lap and cry while I pet your hair. Whatever you need.”

  Elle nodded mindlessly, the blank expression she wore showed her thoughts were a million miles away. But she did as Beth instructed and sank further into the steaming water. Relief was nowhere to be found, however, because everything around her was tied to a memory of him.

  When the water cooled, she wrapped a thick robe around her and joined Beth in the living room.

  “Want me to reheat your tea?”

  Elle shoo
k her head and stretched out on the couch. With her head in Beth’s lap, she let her hot tears flow. Beth stroked her hair and tried to comfort her as best she could, but the end of a dream left a hole in Elle’s heart that couldn’t be filled with promises of a better day to come.

  Her only consoling thought before she fell asleep on Beth was how she’d lived through other heartbreaking and difficult situations. She’d come through this one stronger and wiser.

  But first, she would hurt.

  15

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Current Day

  On the private jet to LAX, Shadow planned his every move and how he’d infiltrate a well-known and dangerous motorcycle club past the probie level. Hell, even a probie was a step up from where he’d normally have to prove his worth. But he didn’t have enough time to go through the standard process.

  Elle and Beth didn’t have enough time.

  Over the past year, he’d kept his distance from her and let her live her life. He’d watched with a mixture of extreme pride and sorrowful regret how her career skyrocketed when she put all her energies into it. She was frequently sought out for leading roles, and the most popular strutting peacocks vied for her attention.

  “Fuckers,” he mumbled to himself. “Why couldn’t it be those dickheads disappearing instead of Elle?”

  The prior twelve months were the hardest Shadow could remember enduring since he was a kid. His trips to LA had not lessened. He still visited Elle, checked on her well-being, watched her work—though she never knew he was there. He wanted her to forget him and have the life he couldn’t give her.

  Only he couldn’t let her go, and he didn’t want a life that didn’t include her.

  “Maybe this is my ticket away from the CIA operations. If they knew how fucking crazy messed up I am, they wouldn’t send me out anymore.”

  He glanced around the cabin of the luxurious Steele Security jet, thankful the flight attendant was out of earshot. While he wouldn’t mind the company directors thinking he was crazy, he didn’t want to share his instability with anyone else.

  “That wouldn’t work anyway,” he realized. “They’d just send me to even worse places.”

  For the time being, his focus had to be solely on Elle and Beth if he was to have any chance of saving them. From the intelligence Steadman had shared, there was little hope of rescuing one of them, much less both. If two were missing, there were bound to be more.

  Fortifying his mind and steeling his resolve, he cracked open the dossier on the outlaw motorcycle club he’d soon pledge to as a new member.

  The Devil’s Dominion Motorcycle Club.

  He leaned back in his seat and began memorizing all the details and planning his offensive. Every word solidified his belief the chance of success was low and the risk of death was high. The Devil’s Dominion was not known to suffer fools—or traitors.

  Based out of LA, the motorcycle gang had spread to multiple states through smaller gangs brought into the fold—either by their request or via a hostile takeover and violent orientation. With the additions to their ranks, their total member count was estimated to be close to two thousand men.

  An enterprise that size would have considerable resources at their beck and call. It would also need a mixture of criminal activities to fund it. With more than 150 chapters, their reach was far and wide. He had no doubt the case would require all his skill to pull off. On paper, they were a formidable opponent. Reality would be much worse.

  Little information was known about their initiation process. Those who had endured it were either still part of the club and didn’t talk about it, or had been killed trying to leave the gang. His inside man, Nick Tucker, gave a detailed report two years prior, but he stressed the leaders of the group created new scenarios frequently. Each new round of probies endured more humiliating and sinister acts than the last. The harsh induction helped ensure they maintained their cruel nature as full-fledged members.

  The highest concentration of members was in the LA chapter. With nearly 300 members, it was by far the most dangerous and least predictable. Fortunately, it was also the chapter Nick had infiltrated and worked his way up the chain during his two years undercover. As the current club treasurer, he was trusted implicitly and had proven his commitment.

  According to Nick’s handler, the two years with the gang had taken a significant toll on him. Shadow could only imagine what Nick had been forced to do to show his allegiance and gain their trust. For any criminal organization to accept an outsider, they would require the probationary member to commit a heinous crime—to prove his mettle and to have leverage to hold over his head.

  The leader of all the chapters was an ex-convict by the name of Bobby Blalock, but his club nickname was Headbanger. He required every member to be a convicted felon, adding to the notoriety of the club overall. Every new member was assigned a nickname when they joined unless they already had one from an associated gang—but the club officers were the most notorious.

  Using his secure phone, Shadow contacted Nick’s handler, Jack Collins, to get the information directly from those closest to the action. “Jack, I’m on my way to LA. Tell me everything is ready for me.”

  “Steadman and I have been working on your background. It’s airtight. They’ll hire a private investigator to check you out. They’ve become very careful about any new members.”

  “Recently?”

  “Fairly. In the last several months. Headbanger, the club president, has been extremely paranoid lately. His vice president, Nutcrusher, personally oversees every new pledge, comparing their formal application to whatever the PI digs up.”

  “Headbanger and Nutcrusher. I’m sure there’s a joke in there somewhere.”

  Jack chuckled darkly. “Not one they’d find funny. Nick joined at the most opportune time, before they became so suspicious of everyone. We built his arrest record and background around what he’d already told them.”

  “What is Nick’s club name?”

  “Renegade. He’s the club treasurer, so they trust him with all the money. He and their sergeant at arms, Bonebreaker, convinced Headbanger to allow officers to nominate new members at the probie stage, so you’ll skip the pledge stage. They still won’t trust you until you’ve proven yourself, though.”

  “I’ve been reading up on their initiation process. It’s fairly grueling but nothing I haven’t been through before.”

  “Don’t expect it’ll be anything you’ve read about. They pride themselves on new and improved torture tactics. They have been known to order probies to kill someone for them, too.”

  Jack and Shadow discussed how he’d get in touch with Nick once he was ready to ride with the club. The only part of the agreement Shadow was leery over was waiting two to three weeks to allow changes to his features to occur naturally. His normally kempt hair needed to be longer and shaggy. His beard must be full and scraggly. Tattoos would be strategically placed to show his prison allegiance and felon status.

  His motorcycle and leathers would be waiting for him at his run-down, sparsely furnished apartment, complete with dust and road grime to portray his recent ride across the country after his prison release. His photographic memory and training taught him how to blend in with any type of element and gave him a decided advantage, but earning the trust of a group of very suspicious criminals wouldn’t be easy. He used the rest of the flight to pore over every detail of their known hangouts.

  By the time he landed at a private airstrip in LA County, he’d moved past concerned and straight to murderous rage. Jack waited outside the fence in a beat-up truck. He looked the part of a retired lifetime club member in case he was ever spotted near Nick Tucker. In Shadow’s case, Jack would lend credence to his cover story if anyone saw them pull up to the apartment together.

  “Good flight?” Jack asked when Shadow had settled in the passenger seat.

  “As good as can be under the circumstances. Have you talked to Nick directly?”

  Jack chuck
led. “Not since we last talked a couple of hours ago. We go weeks without speaking. But I got a message to him, and he’ll meet us tonight at your place. Your cover story will be enough to explain how the three of us know each other if anyone questions it. Or, I should say, when someone questions it. Bonebreaker will suspect you immediately. He spent twelve years in prison because of a snitch who turned out to be an undercover agent. He suspected Nick, too, so don’t take it personally.”

  “As long as he doesn’t take it personally when I serve his cock and balls to him chilled before I finish killing him.”

  Jack arched one brow as he looked over his shoulder at Shadow. “Angry much?”

  “Jack, I’m more than angry after reading that file. What they’re most likely doing with Elle makes my blood boil. I’m already a deadly man, but I could wipe out every single one of them and not lose a wink of sleep at night.”

  “Your director at the CIA warned me about turning you loose on this club.”

  “Yeah? What was his warning?”

  “He said I may not have anyone left to arrest if they pissed you off. Apparently, you have a reputation in the company for taking care of business, no matter how messy the situation may be.”

  “You’ve been warned correctly. Think of all the money we’ll save the taxpayers in the long run.” His tone held no mirth or indication Jack shouldn’t take his words at full face value.

  “Just remember there’s always more to the story. Someone else behind the scenes, calling the plays, directing the activities, reading the field. We need to take that person down, too. So we need them alive to flush out who’s financing the big ventures.”

  “The money isn’t coming from their drug operations? I read they’re in league with the Mexican cartels and pulling in major dollars from street-level dealers all the way up the chain to the manufacturers.”

  “They are, no doubt. But their new business is much more expensive—at least, initially. The number of people we think they’re paying off leads to a staggering amount of money. We’ll get into that more with Nick when he drops by later.”