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Decker stopped reading through the checklist he’d downloaded on his phone in preparation for his upcoming interview when he reached point number nine.
Be yourself.
His derisive snort was loud in Marley’s empty living room. Yeah, being himself for any extended period of time wasn’t going to do him any favors, least of all at Crimson Point Security. The military might have trained him to work with and as part of a team, but he was a loner at heart. Hadn’t always been that way, but that’s how it was now, and it wasn’t going to change anytime soon.
He shook his head, skimmed the rest of the list and decided to ditch the remainder, unsure why he was so wound up about this. It wasn’t his first interview rodeo, he already knew how this all worked. It was just as much about impression during the interview as what was on his resume.
He’d already done research on the company before applying for an interview. He’d also done some homework on the main players there, Ryder Locke, Callum Falconer, and the guy simply known as Walker. So no matter who wound up interviewing him at the office, he at least knew the basics about them and wouldn’t feel like he was at a total disadvantage.
He looked up when he heard footsteps on the front walkway. The lock mechanism whirred a moment later, then Marley stepped inside. Her face was blotchy, eyes puffy.
He shot from his chair, alarm popping inside him. “What’s going on?” He could count on one hand how many times he’d seen Marley in tears, even with all the awful shit they’d been through as kids. “Is it Henry?”
“No. Well, I guess partly.” She dumped her oversized purse onto the upholstered bench in the entry, along with her keys. “He was awake when I went in to see him, but really weak. He recognized me though. Squeezed my hand. I told him I loved him. He doesn’t have anyone else. I wanted him to know someone cared, just in case he doesn’t pull through.” She wiped under her eyes.
“Then what else?” he asked, confused.
“After I left I...” She winced, rubbed a hand over her face and walked over to collapse on the couch with a groan. “I went to see someone.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Someone?” A guy. Some asshole who must have done something really fucking bad to upset her this much.
She finally met his gaze. Nodded, looking utterly miserable and...lost.
That part concerned him most. Marley was tough. Way tougher than she looked, and not just courtesy of the Marine Corps. She’d had to be strong with everything life had thrown at her. And he wasn’t proud to admit that he hadn’t been there enough for her to lighten the burden the way he should have.
Part of his decision to apply for a job here was to hopefully change that.
“The guy who broke my heart last year,” she finally said, her voice barely carrying.
His eyebrows snapped together. “What guy?” She hadn’t said anything to him about a guy. The twins hadn’t told him anything either, and she talked to them about a lot more than she did him.
“I fell for someone last year. And not long after that I was told he died.”
Oh, shit. For real? “I’m sorry, Mar. I didn’t know.” How had he not known something that major? Damn, he really had drifted from everyone.
She gave him a sad smile that tugged at the hidden soft spot he’d always had for her. “No one did. Anyway, really long story short, it turns out he’s still very much alive.”
He frowned at her, not liking the sudden plot twist happening here. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah, because he barged through my front door about five seconds after those shots went through the window the other night.”
He stared at her in stunned silence for a moment. “What the fuck?” he finally got out. The guy reappearing just after her house had been shot up meant the two things had to be connected.
She eyed him, looking tired and dispirited. The opposite of his bright, energetic sister. “You’d better sit down.”
“No.” He folded his arms across his chest. An imposing posture that had intimidated many of the Marines he’d dealt with as an MP. Whoever this asshole was, he sounded like bad news, and Decker didn’t want him within fifty miles of his sister. “Start talking.”
After a long pause, she did. Haltingly at first. Then she got going and the words seemed to pour out of her.
With each one, the anger in him grew hotter. Increasing from a simmer to a rolling boil, blending with a gut-deep fear. By the time she finished explaining how she’d gotten the prick’s address this morning, his jaw was so tight he was surprised he didn’t crack a molar. “And he’s still here?”
She looked up at him, expression wary. “Yeah, but just forget it. It’s over.”
Forget it? Like it never happened? Like she wasn’t in possible danger now because of the guy? Nope. “Like hell it is,” he growled, and stalked past her.
She jumped up, face filled with alarm. “What are you doing?”
He ignored her, marching for the door. After feeling numb and purposeless for so long, the anger felt good. He was going to go over there and get to the bottom of this, make sure Marley was safe from this guy.
“What are you— Deck, no,” she blurted when he grabbed her keys and phone and walked out the door.
He unlocked the phone using the code she’d always used, and sure enough, there was the address in her text messages.
“Just leave it alone,” she called from the doorway. “Deck!”
Nope.
God knew he hadn’t been there for her enough over the years. Hadn’t had a clue about what she’d gone through last spring, and he couldn’t change any of it.
But he was damn well going to be here for her now. And no one. No fucking one threatened or put his sister in danger. Not happening.
“Deck, stop!” she called frantically. “You can’t just drive over there and confront him—”
“Watch me.”
He slammed the driver’s-side door shut and started the engine. Ignored her when she came running down the walkway toward him. And whaddya know, there was the address still sitting in her car’s GPS system.
Ignoring her frantic pleas to stay put, he drove away, the rage inside him shifting. Turning icy. Laser focused.
Whatever it took, he was going to make damn good and sure his sister was safe from Warwick James and whatever threat he’d brought here with him.
****
“God dammit,” Warwick snarled into the empty yet deafening silence, gripping the back of his hair in his fists. It had been fifteen minutes since Marley had driven away and he still felt like he was being split apart with a sodding crowbar. The impulse to chase after her was so damn strong his muscles twitched.
The fear of pushing her away forever if he did was the only thing that stopped him.
He slammed the end of his fist into the kitchen doorframe, a cry of frustration and anguish tearing from him. He could still feel her. The imprint of her long, lithe body against his. Could still taste her. Smell her.
He was ready to come unglued from the need pulsing through him.
He’d meant what he’d said to her at the end. He couldn’t let her go now. It was too late for that. But charging after her, no matter how badly he wanted to, would only cause another confrontation and make her retreat harder.
Much as he hated it, he had to give her time and space. All he could do for now was try to protect her from whatever unseen threat was out there. And hopefully win her back when the danger was gone.
Whirling, he turned and stalked to the short hallway, heading for the bedroom to get his phone.
A sound from the back door made him pause. A quiet snick.
As if someone was trying to pick the lock.
The air around him crackled with static electricity as he turned, nape tingling, his focus narrowed on the source of that sound. No one could see into the house. He’d pulled all the blinds down over the windows as soon as he’d arrived. Was this a simple break-in attempt?
Or something more.
He walked silently through the small kitchen to the door beyond it, pulling a knife from the butcher block on the counter on the way. He flicked it in his hand and clenched the handle in his fist, blade pointed down, staring at the doorknob.
It didn’t move. There was no further sound, no telltale snick or scraping, but he knew what he’d heard. And that whoever was on the other side of this door was no friend to him.
He waited, back pressed to the wall behind the door in case whoever it was tried to fire a shot through it. A minute passed. Two. Then he thought he heard the faintest whisper of movement beyond the door.
The intruder was on the move again.
With silent treads he quickly retraced his steps and went into the bedroom to ease the corner of the blind aside to look out front. There was nothing but the gray gloom of the rain as he pulled on his boots, carefully eased the blind aside and slid the window open.
Inch by inch, careful not to make any sound while watching for the intruder the whole time, until it was wide enough for him to slip through.
He hopped down into the flowerbed beneath the window and crouched slightly, still clenching the knife in his fist, watching the far corner of the house. He started creeping along the side of it, pulse slowing now that he was on the move. Becoming the hunter instead of prey.
At the end of the front exterior wall he paused, glancing behind him quickly before focusing on what was happening around the corner. A cedar-plank fence wrapped around the backyard, hiding it from his view. But through the rain he heard hushed footsteps on the grass.
Then he caught a glimpse of someone jumping the fence and disappearing from view.
Whether the intruder was leaving or planning to circle back and try again, Warwick wasn’t waiting to find out.
Nah, mate. You’re mine.
He burst away from the house and charged into the band of forest bordering the side of the yard, heading in the direction he’d seen the person moving. There was no time for stealth. He had to stop whoever it was before they got away.
His boots thudded on the carpet of cedar needles as he ran. He ducked and dodged branches, leapt over protruding roots and logs.
Something whipped past him and buried itself into a tree trunk, a telltale crackle sending an electrical charge through the Taser wires. A solid weight hit him in the ribs a split second later.
The impact knocked him off his feet. They hit the ground side by side with a thud. Warwick immediately twisted toward the attacker. Raised the knife as he turned. A fist clamped around his wrist. Drove the blade toward the ground as a blow to the side of the face made him see stars.
With a throttled growl, he wrenched to the side, heaving the man off him. He had only a vague impression of his size in the shadowy forest, the dark balaclava covering the face as he jumped to his feet.
A boot came hurtling up at his knife hand. He ducked, twisted to the side just in time, grunted as the kick made contact with his shoulder instead, knocking him sideways.
He stumbled, threw out his arms to catch himself. The edge of the blade snagged on a cedar trunk. Tore out of his hand and spun away into the underbrush beyond.
Catching himself on the rough bark, Warwick regained his balance and struck out behind him with a back kick.
The sole of his boot made solid contact, a grunted oof reaching him. Warwick whirled, snapping his other leg around in a roundhouse kick aimed at head height. This time he caught the bastard in the back.
His attacker lost his balance and staggered to the side. Warwick seized his chance and dove at him.
They crashed into the ground, Warwick on the bottom. But the bastard was strong, and from the moment he’d first taken Warwick down, he’d known.
This wasn’t a mere street thug or drug dealer bent on breaking in and stealing shit. This big bastard was trained and knew what he was doing.
A fist shot out, connecting with Warwick’s face. The pain dazed him but he lashed out with an elbow. The man’s head snapped to the side with the impact, the sudden shift in momentum throwing him off Warwick.
They both staggered to their feet, less than ten feet apart.
Warwick lunged. Caught the bastard’s arm as a fist came at his face again and wrenched it backward, immediately spinning around behind him to put him in an arm lock.
The man snarled and twisted hard. Something popped.
A throttled scream filled the air a heartbeat before an elbow rammed him in the solar plexus. Warwick stumbled back at the unexpected force of the blow, doubled over as he fought to suck in air, preparing for another attack.
But the man suddenly turned to run in the opposite direction. Warwick darted forward and swept his leg out, tripping him.
Another scream as the bloke hit the ground. Warwick moved in to grab him. Deflected a kick to the head that caught him in the ribs instead, punching the little remaining air out of him.
He dropped to a knee, biting back a curse as pain lit up his side. Lurched upward as the bastard suddenly shot to his feet and took off, racing like a deer through the trees.
Warwick tore after him, still fighting for breath. But the forest grew denser. Darker. The tangle of underbrush thicker.
Within a minute he’d lost sight of his quarry.
He stopped. Debated his options for a moment and ran back toward the house to get another weapon in case the bastard wanted to come at him again.
Just as he neared the fence line, he skidded to a halt when he saw another large figure coming toward the front door.
The guy’s head snapped toward him. He stopped. Stared at Warwick. Then his brows lowered in a menacing scowl and he stormed right at him.
Warwick cursed under his breath, winced as he put a hand to his ribs. He didn’t think they were cracked but he’d have one hell of a bruise come morning, and he could feel blood trickling from his nose. “Decker.” He recognized him from pictures Marley had shown him.
Decker slowed in surprise, the black scowl turning into a dark frown as he ran his gaze over him. “What the hell happened to you?”
“Where’s Marley?” he demanded, fear curling in the pit of his stomach. There was no time to explain, but whoever had just come after him was a pro and might try to target Marley next.
Decker’s eyebrows snapped back together. “None of your fucking business.”
He didn’t have time for this shit. He glanced at Marley’s car parked at the end of the driveway. She wasn’t in it. “You didn’t leave her alone, did you?” When Decker blinked at him in clear surprise and opened his mouth to respond, Warwick talked right over top of him. “Go,” he commanded. “Get back there now and don’t leave her for a second.”
“Why, what’s going on?” He looked concerned now, edging back toward Marley’s car.
“Just go, mate!” he snapped, jumping back through the bedroom window to grab his phone. When he came back out, Decker was gone.
He dialed 911 as he ran for his rental car, then drove like hell for Marley’s place.
