Page 52 of Secret Mission

Dude. You didn’t.

Not only does that piss me right the hell off,if Truck saw that, he’d blow an artery.

But my focus snaps into sharper awareness when Allison pleads with the attacker.

Using his name.

“Thomas! Stop!”

How does she know this guy?

Wobbling to her feet, she tries to move closer. “Thomas, you’ve lost your mind! Put the gun down. These men are helping me.”

Finally, the name registers.

Thomas is common enough, but a memory clicks into place. This guy’s face matches an image from the missing person case file.

Thomas Moore is an employee of her father’s company. His job description was obscure, and now I know why.

This guy does her father’s dirty work. And he’s tracked us down, and the man is here to collect his boss’s daughter.

The night just went from bad to FUBAR.

I step toward them, control in my tone. “Thomas Moore, put the gun down. You’re not getting away from here if you hurt Axle or Allison.”

The man shifts his weight, that gun holds steady. But that’s not the crazy part.

That’s when Axle does something as unpredictable as his brother. Turning to face the intruder, he presses his forehead against the barrel.

The blazing recklessness in his expression is something you never want to see looking you in the face. It’s the kind of dangerous that will give a man nightmares for the rest of his life.

“Axle,” I warn. “Easy.”

Neck muscles corded, voice a biting hiss, Axle leans into the gun. “Now what,motherfucker?”

The other man widens his stance, not blinking. Stone cold. Escalating the standoff. “Back up.”

“Fuck off and stick that gun up your ass. Or better yet, let me do it.”

Shit. “Hey, guys.”

Everyone ignores me.

Axle chuckles darkly and more hairs stand up on my arms.

That laugh would make most men double swallow and run for the hills.

Thomas is either dead on the inside or dude’s got more balls than I’d have thought given the looks of him. Polo shirts can be deceiving like that.

Allison is wobbling around now, bits of foliage clinging to her, and looking about as pissed as Axle.

My oh-shit meter pegs as she unleashes.

“Where’s Truck, what did you do with him?”

“Oh, isn’t this interesting? You’re worried about your boy toy?” A smirk crosses Thomas’s face.

“Where is he? she shouts, voice shrill. “You better not have done anything to him!”

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