CHAPTER ONE
Nemesis Inc. Headquarters, Montana
“Fucking torture devices.”
Draven pulled at the bow tie and tugged it free of his neck. He’d never understand why weddings required bow ties and monkey suits.
He flopped into one of the chairs surrounding the firepit. Kentucky Smith and Becky Jones were married. The speeches were done. The food eaten. The first dance done. Momma Smith had cried, smiled, and insisted Kentucky’s father would have been so proud of him and delighted to have Becky in the family.
Who the hell knew Tex Keegan would scrub up so well? Although, if Draven was to hazard a guess, the bridesmaids—aka Caroline Steel and her posse from California—had a little something to do with that. He snorted a laugh when he remembered how tiny Willow Ford had squared up to Kentucky and warned him he better not make Becky cry, or she’d be whipping out some of her daddy’s old tricks and making his life hell for at least a decade.
Nope, weddings and shit weren’t for him. Draven was happy for his friends. But that happily-ever-after shit wasn’t in his wheelhouse.
As if fate had been waiting for him to toss her a challenge, his phone buzzed and beeped in his ass pocket.
This better not be someone wanting me to do anything.
Draven had exactly zero plans for the next month but to sleep, eat, maybe drink some beers, before repeating everything all over again. He pulled out the phone and scowled at it. The notification had already disappeared from the screen. Of course, it had; why wouldn’t it disappear, forcing him to remember his password?
He was down to last chance saloon on the password front when he finally got it right and his phone unlocked.
IF: 4°30’17.99”S - 21°42’52.89”E
Draven stared at the coordinates for a heartbeat until his brain figured out what they were and who had sent them.
“Shit.”
DK: On my way.
If there was ever going to be a person besides the ones on this ranch tonight for whom he’d come on the run with no questions asked, it was this woman. His childhood friend.
“What kind of shit have you gotten yourself into now, brat?”
Draven drained the glass of brandy and turned in time to see Kentucky kissing his bride as he carried her over the threshold of their newly built cabin.
“Have the best life,” Draven whispered softly. “You both earned it.”
He waited until the door had closed behind them before he went looking for Trev. If he put those coordinates into Google Maps, he’d probably end up in the fucking Congo or somewhere, and that wouldn’t help the little troublemaker who loved to make him batshit.
He made his way through everyone, sidestepping to avoid stepping on Mozart’s woman’s toes as he made his way to where Trev was propping up the bar with a dark scowl on his face. Draven hadn’t even known Mozart had a woman, but Summer Pack was one hell of a strong lady. That she’d been through a similar situation to Becky and Willow made her an ideal match for Sam Reed.
He tapped Trev on the shoulder. “What’s wrong, bro? This is a happy day. What have you got to look like you want to punch someone for?”
“I think I have hives.” Trev tipped his beer bottle toward the dance floor and shuddered. “Kentucky’s momma made me dance.”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“I don’t dance.”
Draven wasn’t above needling him a little bit. “Apparently, Ma Smith thinks you do.” When Trev’s face darkened, he remembered he needed him on his side. “Wanna get out of here and classify it as work?”
“Hell yes.” Trev placed his beer bottle on the bar. “What did you do?”
“Nope.” He shook his head. “It’s not me this time. It’s a friend of mine. She sent me coordinates, and I need to be sure I head in the right direction.”
“She?”
Draven could hear the curiosity in Trev’s voice, but figured he didn’t need to tell him everything. Especially the bits which were none of his business.
“My little sister’s friend from when we were kids.”
“Bro.” Trev walked beside him as they made it to the door which led to the main offices. He punched in the code to open it for them. “Have you not watched the Hallmark movies? Sister’s best friend is in trouble and you run in to save the day. Do I say congratulations now, or should I wait until you figure it out?”
“Are you drunk?” Trev better not be so drunk he couldn’t figure out how to switch on his computers. “I’m just going to save her butt and drop her home. It’s not anything weird or wonderful.”
“If you say so…”
“She is a child, Trev. A kid! What the hell do you think I am?”
“How old is your ‘little’ sister, bro?” Trev pulled back his chair, sat in it, and scooted forward until he was in front of his keyboard.
“What’s that got to do with anything?”
“You said the person who sent you the message is a child. Is your sister also a child?”
Oh, he could just go fuck himself sideways with a dry cactus, preferably in the ass. “Man, you aren’t even barking in the same forest, never mind at the same fucking tree.” He pulled out his phone and handed it to him. “It’s the last message.”
Trev sighed and unlocked his computer. “So you haven’t been bitten by the love bug then?”
“Hell no. I just need to go grab India and make sure my sister isn’t right there beside her causing chaos or my mom’s going to lose her shit. Where am I going?”
“Um. Gimme a sec.” Trev tapped the coordinates into his program and they both watched as it zoomed in on a location. “You, bro, are heading to the DRC.”