Page 43 of Protecting Lainey (Broterhood Alliance #7)
The stars were out by the time Lainey pulled into her driveway. Humidity clung to her skin as she got out of her car. The porch light cast a soft glow across the asphalt.
In the back seat, Luke was slumped over, fast asleep, his NASA hat perched sideways on his head, his mouth slightly open. Her heart softened at the sight, and she smiled.
Finn’s headlights followed her. He parked beside her and climbed out as she unbuckled Luke. She unlocked the front door as Finn reached in and carried his son upstairs to his room.
When Finn came back down, she was in the kitchen putting on a pot of coffee. The scent already filled the air. “Sit. I’ll pour you a cup when it’s ready.”
He pulled out a chair and sank into it. “What a day,” he said. “It was good to see everyone but … when Luke called me Dad?” He let out a soft laugh. “I thought my heart would burst.”
“I wasn’t expecting that either,” Lainey replied. “I didn’t coach him. And I never expected it would happen this fast.”
“Well, it’s something I won’t forget.” He brushed his knuckles lightly along her forearm. “He’s a great kid. And you’ve done an incredible job raising him. On your own.”
She swallowed hard. “Thanks.”
They sat there quietly, the silence broken only by the steady hum of the refrigerator and the low gurgle of the coffee maker.
“You never did finish telling me about your meeting with Cho and Sarah,” he said. “Do you get the feeling they’re going to help or hinder the project?”
Lainey sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. “I don’t know. My gut tells me they know a lot more than they’re telling me. Plus, they kept hinting that my funding was in danger. Also, Sarah dropped a bomb—told me another contractor put in a bid for the project, but she wouldn’t tell me who.”
His brow furrowed. “You think they’re connected to what’s happening?”
“I don’t know.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “But nothing about that meeting felt right.”
Before he could reply, a sharp beep sounded from Finn’s phone. He fished it from his pocket, glanced at the screen, and went completely still.
“Lainey,” he said, already rising, “an alarm was triggered at the site.”
Lainey’s pulse raced. Not again. “What kind of alert?”
“Motion sensor, back perimeter. I doubt its raccoons this time.”
He got up and grabbed his keys from the counter. “I’m calling Dex to meet me there. You stay here. Lock up. I’ll touch base with you when I can.”
She followed him to the door, her heart hammering. “Call me the minute you know anything. Be careful.”
Finn cupped her cheek. “I will.”
Then he was gone. Lainey slid the deadbolt and turned the lock. She walked back to the kitchen. The coffee was ready, and she poured herself a cup, but her hands were trembling. One sip and then she set it down. Her nerves were already frayed. Coffee wasn’t going to help.
She double-checked the front lock again. Then the back. A chill crept up her spine as she crossed her arms and stared out into the dark beyond the window. Something was coming. She could feel it in her bones.
From the shadows across the street, Travis watched Finn’s taillights disappear.
He waited.
Ten minutes, maybe longer. Long enough to be sure. All systems were go.
She was alone now.
He crept low, sticking close to a row of hedges that bordered the condos, every movement calculated. A few windows in the neighboring units glowed with light. A TV flickered behind one curtain.
Plenty of people were around, but no one was watching too closely.
If he were a better man, he might suggest the HOA invest in better lighting or security cameras. But he wasn’t a better man.
He wasn’t here to hurt her. Thank God. But he still owed people, and he liked breathing. So he did what needed doing. When this was over, he was going to make like Dean and disappear. Good ol’ Dean had the right idea.
That is, if he disappeared voluntarily. Travis wasn’t betting on it. Either way, he was going to be long gone by the time the dust settled.
He crouched low beside her car, scanning the area one more time. Nothing but the hum of air conditioners and a distant dog barking.
From his pocket he pulled out a thin blade and crouched beside her car, scanning the undercarriage.
Not the brake line. Too obvious. Instead, he looked for the rubber grommet shielding the ABS sensor wire and made a nick.
Just one nick. Just enough to weaken it, not sever it.
It didn’t need to break right away. Just fail when she needed it most. No warning light.
No big clue. Just one wrong move on the road and she’d have no traction control, and she’d never see it coming.
He wiped the blade on his jeans and slid back out. Paused. Glanced over at her house.
“See you tomorrow,” he muttered.
He’d be following Lainey wherever she went until the brakes gave out.
His bosses needed her to sign over the project like yesterday. Especially now that the new asshole had taken over.
They were done asking nicely.
Finn pulled up to the site gate, his headlights sweeping over the chain-link fence. He turned when he heard rumbling on the road. Dex parked his truck next to his.
They looked at the entrance. “No signs of forced entry here. Maybe someone slipped through the back fence.”
“Motion sensor picked up movement on the south perimeter,” Finn said. “Patrol’s still twenty minutes out. Let’s sweep the area.”
They both drew their weapons, flashlights in their free hands, and moved through the site, beams cutting through the dark. The smell of smoke still lingered from the fire, even though most of the charred wood and debris had been removed.
They passed Stella’s Bakery and the building that would eventually house the community theater. The crew had just started on it before the site was shut down. All quiet. All dark.
Then they neared Lainey’s office.
Finn’s beam caught something.
A bold black “X” just like the others, only larger, spray-painted across the front door.
His stomach dropped.
“Taggers?” Dex asked.
“No.” Finn stepped closer. “Fuck.”
He pulled out his phone and snapped a picture. “They’re sending a message that they can get onto the site whenever they want.”
They circled the building. No broken windows. No more spray paint.
Whoever had been here wanted someone to see this. To feel it.
Lainey gave up trying to relax.
Too many thoughts. Too much unease coursing through her body.
She went upstairs to peek in on Luke. He was sound asleep, curled on his side, one hand holding the cap. She smiled. He looked so small. So peaceful. Her chest ached.
She wondered when Finn would call. The waiting was killing her.
The silence was the worst part.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket. Finally, a message from Finn. She pulled it out.
“Someone was here. Not here now. No damage, but they marked your office with an X .”
Lainey’s stomach dipped; her pulse picked up. Someone was playing a game. Watching. Waiting. Hoping she’d concede. Not happening.
They could leave all the marks they wanted. She wasn’t giving up.
Tomorrow was another day. She’d take Luke to school. Put one foot in front of the other like she’d done for years. Pretend her life wasn’t a mess.
Because giving in wasn’t an option.