Page 6

Adler

Oh, little girl, no. No, you don’t.

I should not have said that. It had been a mistake to bring Linzey closer, letting her peek behind the wall I’d erected around myself.

And yet, it wasn’t.

Not completely.

I wanted to show Linzey exactly what would happen if she pushed me too far.

I’d been fighting it for…well, since she’d turned eighteen a few months after I’d rescued her.

I’d stayed strong for four years—stayed strong or removed myself from the situation, by having Connor take over. But tonight, my resolve was weak.

My head had been pounding already before we’d left the penthouse, and I’d known this night at the bar would be hell with the deafening music, noisy crowd and strobing lights.

Sensitivity to light and sound were lingering symptoms of the TBI that had booted me from the SEALs after my last mission—the op where I’d saved one of Booker’s brother Xavier and his friend, the Duke of Who Even Gave a Fuck.

I hadn’t, as long as both men were safely tucked in at their fancy castles.

But the operation had landed me in Booker’s circle.

He’d taken an interest in me and we’d been friends ever since.

In a way, it was my own little fucked-up fairytale ending.

After my discharge, I’d used my tech know-how to earn money with security inventions, and Booker had helped me to invest my money wisely.

It was at his suggestion, and with his assistance, that I’d formed my security agency.

Protecting the rich, famous and/or royal didn’t come cheap—for them.

That income had been invested, too. With some luck, I’d ended up almost as wealthy as Booker.

“So I was thinking,” Marigold yelled to Linzey, who sat between us, with Booker on the far side of our group.

This was nothing like the evening the two of us had envision when he’d proposed a boys night out. He didn’t care, obviously. As far as the prince was concerned, the sun rose and set in his wife’s pants and she could have whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted.

Point in case: we were currently in a semi-private room, at a busy club, and not at the bar I’d selected, The Keg House.

No, we were at Bradford’s , a club where all the junior execs from the Financial District liked to let loose, and pretend they were bigger deals than they were, with the sole intent of getting laid.

Not happening on my watch. As soon as the change in plans had been announced, I’d had a team over here doing a sweep ahead of our arrival.

I’d also had them secure this space. From here, we could still see everything going on in the club.

We were part of the raucous crowd, but they weren’t allowed near us.

Unfortunately, the half-wall partitioning us away from everyone did nothing to dull the noise.

“What were you thinking?” Linzey yelled back to her sister.

“Gala and award season is about to start. Booker and I have to go to everything—”

“Not everything,” he interrupted.

She side-eyed him without turning his way. “We have to go to almost everything,” she corrected. “You should come with us this year. We’ll get you hooked up with some eligible guys so you can go on a few dates. You know…you can get out there. Get your groove on.”

Get her groove on?

Oh, hell no.

That was not happening.

“I don’t know…” Linzey hedged, shooting a glance my way. She seemed uncomfortable with the idea, and I had to admit I was glad she wasn’t jumping at the opportunity. If she wasn’t excited about hooking up with these random guys, it would be easier to turn her away from the idea.

“Come on,” her sister cajoled. “Pretty dresses, partying with the who’s who of the world.”

“Says the woman who hates it,” Booker reminded his wife.

“I don’t… Well, yeah, I do. But if I have to go, it’ll be better if Linzey is there.”

“ I’ll be there,” he reminded her.

Turning, she patted his cheek. “I know. But this is different.” She turned back to her sister. “I don’t like that you’re so alone all the time. There are so many nice, hot guys—”

“And what do you know about that?” Booker demanded.

“Stop it. You know I don’t want anyone but you, your highness.”

“Damn right,” he growled. “We don’t have a dungeon, but I can arrange one pretty damn quick.”

Linzey looked over at me again as if gaging my reaction.

She worried her bottom lip between her teeth as speculation filled her expression.

It burned into me and my determination probably reflected back as I stared into her eyes.

I hadn’t touched a drop of alcohol and I still couldn’t cage the beast that wanted out of me tonight.

Fuck me, this would be my downfall.

“What do you think?” she asked. “Should I plan on meeting some nice, hot guys at these galas Marigold wants me to go to?”

Fuck, no.

Booker snorted, confirming he knew how I felt.

Fury burning in my chest, my hand fisted where it lay beside my glass of water.

If she’d wanted to make me jealous, she’d hit pay dirt.

And we’d both be sorry for it tonight. I’d kept myself in check for four years, and apparently, tonight was the point when my dominant side, which hadn’t existed like this before the TBI, was saying fuck it.

I wanted her…and I wanted Linzey all to myself.

“If you think for one second—”

Loud pops sounded across the throbbing music and stalled my words in my throat.

Gunfire! Adrenaline surging, I dove, pulling Booker down as I took Linzey to the floor, knowing he’d bring Marigold with him.

His guards were on him in a moment, getting him to cover while more shots rang out, screams joining the cacophony of noise.

My only concern was Linzey, and I cursed myself for not surveying our space better for escape routes and coverage. Keeping low behind the inadequate shield of the half-wall, I clocked the space again.

The only exit let out into the main club, accessed by a doorway to one side or going over the partition.

Not happening. People were freaking out and continual shots were fired through the artificially fogged air.

Someone had hit the lights, plunging the club into near pitch-black.

I couldn’t see the crowd, yet the bodies from the last fire-fight I’d been caught in filled my mind’s eye.

Struggling to stay present, I dragged Linzey toward the back wall and dialed 9-1-1 as we moved. Even through the darkness, I spied the shadow of the C-shaped lounge along the back of the room.

Earlier, I’d noticed there looked like just enough space to crawl behind it.

It had bothered me then, but my guys had told me they’d cleared it.

Now, it could be a safe haven, rendering us invisible in the darkness.

Or we could be sitting ducks. I hoped for the former rather than the latter.

It was our best hope. I just had to get Linzey there.

“Find the lights,” someone yelled, the voice distinctly American. Not European. Not men from the Coval sect. I’d known they weren’t. This wasn’t their style. It still drove home a point. Danger always surrounded us.

“Where are the fucking lights?” another man bellowed.

“9-1-1 what’s your emergency?” a woman lilted over the connection on my cell.

“Active shooting at Bradford’s, ” I hissed, keeping my voice low . “Send help. There are at least two gunmen. There’s got to be over a hundred people here—and a fucking prince. Prince Booker is here.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck! This would be a goddamn international incident if anything happened to Booker. Hell, it could turn into a scandal if anyone found out he was in the middle of this. I just had to trust my guys were keeping him safe. I couldn’t see where they’d gone, and that was probably good.

“Hurry,” I demanded.

The operator might have said something, but I didn’t dare keep my phone out since the illumination would reveal our location. I shoved it away, keeping the line open, while I hustled Linzey the final few feet to cover.

I pushed her to crawl into the small space I’d dragged us toward. It was a squeeze for me, but I wedged my shoulders through the opening after her and followed toward the corner where it got wider and we could huddle together.

I pulled her into my arms as soon as the area widened, curling my body around her to shield her from any bullet that might come through the seating.

“Shh,” I murmured into her ear as she heaved silent sobs into my chest, her fingers clutching my shirt. “It’s okay. It’s okay. We’ll be okay.”

“Where’s Marigold? Booker?”

“I don’t know. Their bodyguards are with them. I can’t text them, so I don’t alert anyone to their location.”

She nodded into my chest, her arms slid around my waist, squeezing tight while she burrowed into me.

I cupped my hand around the back of her head, keeping her there.

My lips pressed into her hair. I breathed her in as I prayed for her safety, my ears pricked for any sound that would alert me to danger closing in.

The gunfire had slowed, but hadn’t stopped.

How much fucking ammunition had they brought? Jesus.

Linzey jerked with every barrage that started, her body shaking while she cried at the horror. I knew it would be a million times worse if Coval’s cell found us and attacked.

Within minutes, though it seemed like hours, the pandemonium escalated as the NYPD converged on the scene.

I didn’t move. I wouldn’t emerge from this hidey-hole until I knew we were all clear.

I couldn’t let anything happen to her, not again.

Linzey wasn’t merely mine to protect. No…

she was just mine , and if we got out of this, it was time I showed her.