Page 28 of Clover

“Back already?” A voice inside asks casually. Guess Blake did make us invisible if he couldn’t see us on the security camera in the garage. We know there isn’t one at the door or inside the elevator. Braxton must be seriously paranoid to have removed them.

We don’t wait for the doors to completely open or for the man to register our presence and open fire on him. Four shots from Magnus and me, and he’s down. Didn’t even get a chance to draw his weapon. Poor bastard. Should have chosen someone else to work for.

Stepping over his bleeding body, we enter the elevator and hit the only button for the penthouse labeled PH. The only other button is for the garage and the lobby. It’s dead quiet in the elevator. No pun intended. It’s just really fucking quiet. Does Braxton not believe in elevator music? Sick fuck.

As the elevator slows as it approaches the top floor, we again raise our guns and aim at the doors. If there was a guy in the elevator, there’s got to be a few in the condo. Beau and Magnus stand in the front to either side with Zander, Arrow, and myself behind and offset so we can aim in between them. When the door dings and slides open, we unleash hell upon anyone who steps in our path.

The first is a guy at the door waiting for us. After the first shots signaling our arrival, the others sprout from doors and rooms. All wearing black suits and carrying matching forty-fives. Not sure where Braxton found these guys, but they’re so unoriginal. And obvious. If they were out in public anywhere, they would be made in seconds. Not the best method to remain inconspicuous. There’s maybe four more in total. Who the fuck needs so many guards? What the hell is Braxton up to that he feels the need to have this many bodies in-between him and whoever is coming after him?

Either way, four guys aren’t an issue. They open fire on us, and we open fire on them. Their bullets are not much of a deterrent. Plus, we aren’t stupid and strapped on bulletproof vests before stepping out of the SUV.

I remain steadfast on my path through the foyer into the living space. It’s a huge open space with marble flooring and plush area rugs, low sitting couches, and odd modern art. Lots and lots of white and mirrors. Fuckers seriously conceited if he needs this many mirrors in his home.

My cousins spread out and use pillars as cover and try to flank the men. I don’t give a fuck and walk straight at them. They probably think I’m insane, but really, I’m just out of patience. I don’t have time to fuck around in a gunfight. One of the men in black manages to graze my side with a lucky shot. Slicing in the exposed area, the vest doesn’t cover. Mine hits more center mass and takes him to his knees. My second and third, and fourth all hit center mass and one to the head for good measure. Just in case he’s also wearing a vest like me, and I move on only once he’s on his back, motionless. Two others are already down, and there’s one left crouching behind a large lounge chair that looks like it belongs in the Jetson’s with all its oddly shaped arms and oversized proportions. As he’s focused on Zander to my left, I circle to the right and bring him just enough in view to get a shot off, and he drops with one bullet to the head.

Braxton’s condo is now decorated with arterial spray red.

“Bedroom,” I call to my cousins, and we all file down the wide hall to the master. The door is right where Blake said it would be. Black steel and no handle. Just the keypad. I call Blake.

“We’re here. You’re up.”

“On it.” He answers before I hear the clickity-clack of his keyboard. The keypad in front of me blinks and shows symbols that look like hieroglyphs, then beeps, clicks, and slides open. I don’t even thank Blake before hanging up and raising my gun just in case there are more guards inside.

I make my way down the dimly lit stairs first. There’s no way in hell I’d let one of the others go first. If Clover is here, I need to be the first one to her. Arrow remains at the door to keep a lookout, just in case, while Beau, Zander, and Magnus follow behind me. When I reach the bottom, it lets out into a spacious kitchen, a very messy trashed kitchen. Every single drawer is missing, and every cabinet is open with everything pulled out and smashed on the floor. Panic explodes in my chest like a grenade. If he did this and she’s in here, hurt or dead…

Fuck. Please don’t let her be dead.

My pace quickens, and now I’m looking for her small body amongst all the debris and clutter. There’re a few spots of red blood on the floor, and I fucking lose it.

“CLOVER! CLOVER!” Before I can call her name a third time, a door to my right opens a crack, and a small voice calls out.

“Nix?”

“Clover.” Relief washes over me, and my heart starts to beat again because it stopped the moment I knew she was gone and only now started back up again. She opens the door all the way and drops something that makes a tinkling noise when it hits the floor. I barely have enough time to holster my gun before Clover leaps into my arms and wraps her legs around my waist. Her body is shaking, and I’m sure she’s crying, but I just squeeze her tight, holding her close. Her body is warm and in one piece. Since she disappeared, the weird pain living in my chest finally dissipates the longer I hold her in my arms.

She doesn’t say anything yet. Her arms are tight around my shoulders, and her face is buried in the crook of my neck. My own face burrowed into her hair, inhaling her scent, confirming she’s real and not a manifestation of my imagination brought on by snorting too much cocaine.

“You’re okay. You’re safe now. I’ve got you, baby.” I whisper into her hair. She only sobs softly in response. The hold she has on me only tightens, and I’m pretty sure she’s part monkey because she’s holding onto me with such strength I don’t know if she’ll ever let go. I don’t want her to ever let me go.

A painful release washes over me, holding her in my arms. I never knew someone’s heart could hurt so much with relief, yet mine does. The pain reminding me of what could have been. Of how badly this could have turned out. That she may not have ended up back in my arms safe. But she is, and I can’t fucking breathe with the overwhelming relief choking me.

Coaxing her to calm, I rub my hand up and down her back, soothing the vibrating tremors running through her. After a long minute, they subside, and she’s able to speak.

“I thought you would never find me.” Her voice is quiet and small against my skin. And it fucking hurts to hear her so frail. My strong shotgun-wielding girl reduced to tear-filled whispers. I’m going to ruin Braxton and his whole fucking family for this.

“I will always find you sweet cheeks. I’ll never let you go.” I whisper back to her. A long breath leaves her, and her body begins to go limp in my arms. Before I drop her, I set her down tentatively on her feet. She’s stable enough to stand but still clings to me, her fingers grabbing my shirt, making sure I can’t leave her again. I’ll never fucking leave her again.

When she composes herself enough to look up at me, her eyes are rimmed with red from crying, and the tracks of her tears are drying on her cheek. Where a purple bruise covers her cheekbone and jaw.

“What did he do to you?” The barely restrained anger seeps into my question. I try to keep calm and fail miserably.

“Doesn’t matter. You’re here now.” Her smile is soft and small, probably because it hurts to do anything more. But her eyes are bright and filled with relief. Brushing the back of my knuckles across her bruised cheek, I try not to put too much pressure on the purpling skin, brushing the unkempt strands of hair from her face. My fingers come in contact with something that shouldn’t be there. Brushing away more hair, I see the leather strap around her neck.

“What the fuck is this?” My blood boils. He collared her. He is so fucking lucky he isn’t here right now because he would be dead and in pieces at my feet.

“He said I was his pet, and I needed a collar.” She whispers to me.

“Don’t worry, baby, I’m going to get this off you.” Feeling around to the back, I realize it’s locked on her neck. I’m going to need a bolt cutter to remove it.

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