CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

He was running on fumes, but he was determined to keep his word and make the most out of the time they had left.

After he read the boys a bedtime story and knew they were asleep, Wyatt whisked Vica up to his bedroom and into his bed, keeping her very satisfied into the wee hours of the morning.

He wasn't even sure what number orgasm she was on, or if he had anything left in his balls, but he didn't care. His tongue still worked, so that was all that really mattered.

They were taking a break between rounds, their bodies coated in a thin mist of sweat and the sheets kicked to the floor as she lay beside him, swirling her index finger around the small dusting of hair on his chest.

"You know," she started, "the world sucks." Then she glanced up at him. "But you are my favorite person."

Well, if that compliment didn't hit him hard in the feels.

He kissed the top of her head. "You're one of my favorites too." And that was the honest truth. He hadn't known Vica Vitale for long, but after his children and brothers, she really was one of his favorite people. Her fierce strength cloaked a deep vulnerability. Her intelligence and kindness knew no bounds, and the way she'd so easily fallen in love with his sons—and they with her—made it all the more difficult for Wyatt to even fathom having to let her go.

"Has the puzzle piece shown its face to you yet?" she asked, glancing up at him through her thick lashes.

Sighing, he tucked an arm under his head. "No. I just feel like we're missing something though."

"You interviewed the front of house staff and all their stories aligned, but what about the kitchen staff?"

He was loathe to believe that one of the people he and Burke hired could have had a hand at introducing a bomb onto the property. But they couldn't rule out anybody. Some of the kitchen staff were newer too. One of their dishwashers—Francisco—was a summer hire. So were two cold-side cooks, Eleanor and Rahul. They also had a new part-time hot-side cook named Amos, who Burke was training. None of them seemed capable of treason though. Then again, Dom would be the first to say none of his front of house staff was capable of treason either.

"You trust Burke to keep Evie safe?" Vica asked, even though he could see in her eyes that she also trusted Burke, she just wanted extra reassurance.

"I'd trust that man with my life. He is solid gold. Or as you Italians put it, ‘ he is as good as bread'. Buono come il pane. "

She smiled. " Si . He is buono come il pane." She kissed his chest. "As are you."

With a growl, and a second wind in his sails—and between his legs—he rolled her onto her back, covering her. "Enough talking for now, hmm?"

"Again?" she asked, surprised. "Have you anything left?"

He shrugged. "We'll see. But for now, let's make my little Ferrari purr, hmm?" Then he drifted down her body, peppering kisses over her breasts, her abdomen, the tops of her thighs, her inner thighs, and finally, her swollen pussy lips. Her legs flopped open for him since she was equally, if not more exhausted than he was, and a long sigh escaped her.

Settling onto his belly, he spread her open and swept his tongue up her center, tasting her last release. It made his belly rumble for more. He slipped in two fingers right away, curling them, beckoning another climax from her. He wasn't sure why, but he loved the way her belly contracted when she came. When she was at the height of her release, her stomach muscles tightened and her back arched, pushing her perfect tits to the ceiling.

Maybe it was rude to open his eyes and watch her come, but he couldn't get enough. It was like a drug. Vica's orgasms were his crack, and fuck anybody that tried to get him to detox.

He no longer needed to ask for permission before he slipped a finger into her ass. If she didn't want him to, she would just press her butt down into the mattress so he couldn't reach her tight hole. But when he probed at it just now, she lifted up her hips, welcoming him in.

He smiled as he flicked her clit with his tongue, pulling a shiver out of her. She was playing with her own breasts again, tugging on the nipples, and twisting them between her thumb and forefinger. It was sexy as fuck, and he couldn't peel his eyes away.

"Ano-another finger," she breathed, bucking into his face before biting her lip with her top teeth. "Ass. P-please."

He smiled again and did as she asked, pulling his first finger out, gathering some of her natural lubricant and sliding two fingers back in. Her moan was long and low, like a lioness in heat, calling out for her lion to mount her. His cock was at full mast now beneath him, but he wanted another orgasm out of her before they came together. Then, they could sleep.

Wrapping his lips around her clit, he pulled the hood and then the whole thing, deep into his mouth, sucking hard. At the same time, his fingers in her pussy—and the ones in her ass—worked in tandem, rubbing against each other with nothing but a thin membrane between them.

"Oh, dio ," she crooned, her hips leaping off the bed. "Yes. Oh … "

He didn't stop. He kept going. She was close. He could feel the storm brewing inside of her. Her clit and labia swelled beneath his lips and her pussy gushed around his fingers, the walls squeezing him as her hips bucked wilder. He increased his suction and …

Fireworks.

He made sure to keep his eyes open and watch the magic unfold above him. Her belly contracted so beautifully. Her tits pointed at the ceiling and the way she arched her back was like she had no bones at all. She was an aerial gymnast or some kind of beautiful contortionist. He kept going as her orgasm continued to unfurl. He wouldn't stop, wouldn't let go until she slumped back to the mattress, a gorgeous, satiated seductress.

She trembled and panted, cursed and moaned with each fresh wave of her release until she began the downward tumble, back to earth, back toward Wyatt. When her upper back hit the mattress again and she released her nipples, he let go of her clit and slowly pulled his fingers free. She exhaled deeply from her nose, a pretty little smile coasting across her lips before she blinked open her eyes and reached for him.

Climbing up her body, he softly rolled her over to her side and slid in behind her, spoon-style. She reached behind her and gripped his cock, guiding it to where she still pulsed; wet, hot, and needy for him. He slid in easily and laced his fingers with hers, wrapping them across her chest as he began to move in and out of her. Her pussy was so tight in this position, hugging his cock like a velvet sheath.

Together, they brought their hands down between her legs to her clit and began to rub circles around the swollen nub. It was hot that they were doing it together. She was showing him exactly what speed she needed to climb back up the cliff with him so they could leap off together.

Despite how depleted every part of him was, he wasn't going to last long. He was tired, and this new position was driving him wild.

He kissed along her shoulders and up her neck before returning to her shoulder where he gently nipped, then licked, loving the slightly-salty flavor of her skin.

"I'm close," she whispered, their fingers still moving around her clit.

"Me too, baby."

"Wyat …"

"Vica …"

Her clit grew even bigger beneath their fingers, and then she broke one last time. The squeeze and throb of her pussy around him as she came was all it took to pitch him over the cliff's edge too. He clamped down hard on her shoulder with his teeth and let go.

His lower belly swirled with heat as his balls cinched up tight to his taint and his cock pulsed with each spurt of cum into her warm, silk core.

Even after the throes had ceased, they lay there for a while after. Legs entangled, chests heaving with spent efforts and ragged breathing. He could feel himself beginning to slip out of her, but he wasn't quite ready to leave.

"Wyatt?" she whispered into the muted light from a couple of candles he lit for ambience.

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

"And he didn't say it back!" Brooke exclaimed as she, Justine, and Vica sat in Wyatt's living room the next morning, spilling the tea and drinking the tea.

Vica drew in a deep breath and shook her head. "Maybe he didn't hear me?"

"Oh, he heard you," Justine said, all attitude and side-eye.

"Well, that makes me feel even worse," Vica pointed out. "Thanks. "

"That's not what I meant." Justine pouted. "Now I feel bad."

Vica forced a smile. "I know what you mean." She smacked the heel of her palm to her forehead. "I never should have said anything. I feel so stupid. It was the hormones, and the endorphins, and pheromones, or whatever. I had so many orgasms that my brain wasn't working properly." She glanced at Brooke beside her on the couch. "I can claim that as an excuse. Right?" Then she looked to Justine. "It's a medical condition. Like Mommy Brain? Orgasm Brain?"

"If it's not, it should be," Brooke chimed in. "I've had it. I might have it right now. This morning Clint was …" she sighed, "he was very passionate."

"Have you heard from Evie?" Justine asked.

Vica nodded. "She checked in with me this morning. Gabrielle was already by to see her last night, and they are hopeful her testimony will strengthen my case. We're hoping to find more women though."

"Any news from the cops or immigration?" Brooke asked.

"No," Vica shook her head, "and to be honest, things have been so quiet—aside from the bomb yesterday—that I'm getting worried."

The other two hummed in agreement.

"I know Clint and Jagger took all the kids to the Honey Festival at Barrington's Bees, and then to the beach, but where are Bennett, Dom, and Wyatt?" Brooke asked.

"They called an emergency staff meeting this morning," Justine said. "After yesterday, they wanted to check in with everyone, make sure people felt safe and okay to come back to work. They also plan to revamp the schedule. I guess the one person that they're suspicious of is going to be given a few days off so they can see if her not being there causes a shift in safety."

"Who are they suspicious of?" Brooke sipped her tea.

"Ginny." Justine blew on her tea. "Which boggles my mind. She is so sweet, and I honestly think her nervousness is just anxiety related."

"I mean, if I were a twenty-one-year-old working around all the hot McEvoy brothers, I'd be a bumbling idiot mess all the time too," Brooke added. "Yeah, I can't see her being the mole."

Vica merely nodded. She agreed with Justine and Brooke, but she'd also learned never to underestimate people. Anyone could put on an Oscar-worthy performance if given the right motivation. And they didn't know Ginny's financial circumstances, or life situation. Maybe she had a parent with an illness that was financially crippling their family, and Wyndham Croft offered her a lot of money to spy on Vica.

Silence settled between them as they all sipped their tea in contemplation. Vica was about to get up and offer the women some more when there was a loud knock at the door.

All three of them exchanged curious looks as Brooke stood up and headed to the door. "One of the guys must have buzzed someone through the gate? Myla, maybe? Or Gabrielle?"

"Or maybe it's Evie, and Burke is just dropping her off so he can attend the staff meeting?" Justine suggested.

All valid suggestions. Vica and Brooke both nodded as Brooke opened the door.

But it was none of the above.

"Ludovica Vitale," Officer Fischer said, shoving his big palm into the door and making it open wider before, stepping over the threshold into the house completely uninvited, "you're under arrest for the murder of Track Croft, as well as the unauthorized disclosure of classified documents."

Officer Jenkins was behind him as Officer Fischer approached Vica with handcuffs.

"Wait a sec. You can't just come in here," Brooke protested. "You have no warrant."

"See, little girl," Officer Jenkins said, holding up a piece of paper, "that's where you're wrong. We have a warrant. Authorized by a judge who also sees through the bullshit you lot are using to cover-up all Ms. Vitale's heinous crimes." He blocked Brooke from trying to get to Vica .

Vica scrambled to get her phone out of her pocket, but Officer Fischer was on her and ripped it from her hand, then tossed it to the ground and stomped on it.

Justine's eyes went wide. "What is going on? You can't do that. She is legally allowed to call her lawyer. And you can't just barge in here."

Both cops scoffed.

"What's going on is, you're harboring a murderer, a felon, and an illegal immigrant," Jenkins said.

"You know that she's none of those things," Brooke protested as Fischer forcefully grabbed Vica by the arm, twisting it in a way that if he applied any more force would probably snap it, and spun her around to handcuff her.

Vica knew better than to resist arrest, and although the police were outnumbered, the fact that they were both armed was not lost on any of the women. Justine had her phone out, but Jenkins was fast and not only smacked Justine hard across the face sending her to the floor, but he ripped her phone from her hands and stomped on it too.

Brooke was their last line of defense, and as she met Vica's eyes, Vica could tell the woman was toying with the idea of running down to the pub to get the guys.

Vica shook her head. Nobody else needed to get hurt because of her. She didn't put it past neither Jenkins, or Fischer, to open fire on Brooke or whip out their taser if she decided to make a break for it.

"You can't do this," Brooke said as Fischer maneuvered Vica around the furniture and toward the front door. "She's innocent and even you know it."

"Do we though? Or has she just pulled her slutty, Italian wool over everyone's eyes but ours?" Fischer shoved Vica hard out of the door, causing the handcuffs—which were too tight on her wrists anyway—to dig into her skin.

"You're not going to get away with this. I'm calling Myla and Gabrielle." Brooke grabbed her phone, but Officer Jenkins was quick and grabbed it, tossing it into the driveway gravel and stomping on it as he walked toward their cruiser.

"Now you're not calling anyone. Your friend is dangerous, and it's high time you all accept that." Fischer shoved Vica into the cruiser by placing a fat, sweaty palm on the top of her head and shoving her into the backseat. She spun around in the seat to see Brooke helping Justine to her feet. The women scrambled to the doorway, fuming and terrified.

Vica swallowed hard as the reality of the situation settled in and the police car drove toward the gate. It sat open. They didn't even have to punch in a code or anything.

"Your boyfriend really should install a better security gate," Fischer said from behind the steering wheel. "Didn't take much to short-circuit the system."

She glared at his reflection in the rearview mirror. "My husband . And you know they're all marines and not going to just let you take me. They're going to come after you. They're going to save me. You picked the wrong side."

Both men just chuckled. "Sure, sweetheart," Jenkins murmured. Then he turned to Fischer. "We really should have thought about short-circuiting the security panel ages ago instead of resorting to all the other shit."

What the hell did that mean?

"Where are you taking me?" Vica asked, leaning back and violently kicking the seat. "I get one phone call, and I choose to call Wyatt McEvoy."

Jenkins whipped around from the front passenger seat and pointed his gun right in her face, forcing her to stop kicking. A sneer curled his thin, chapped lips. "A dangerous person like you?" He shook his head. "I think the world would just be a lot safer if we spared the taxpayers their dollars of a lengthy trial, and just took care of you ourselves."

"Besides," Fischer added, "we don't get paid unless we ship him a head."

Vica leaned forward, put her head between her legs, and vomited.

"Who are we still waiting for?" Wyatt asked as he, Bennett, and Dom sat in the restaurant dining room on chairs with their front of house and back of house staff. Clint's two brewery staff members, Cooper and Gladstone, were there as well.

They asked everyone to join, including those who weren't on the schedule.

"I think just Ginny and Nadine," Luke said, glancing around and doing a quick headcount. Wyatt, Bennett, and Dom were doing the same thing.

"Yeah, I think you're right," Wyatt murmured, glancing at his brothers.

"Why isn't Burke here?" Monique asked. "He's part of the staff too."

"We're giving Burke a couple of days off," Wyatt said. "I think he deserves it. Don't you?"

Murmurs and nods flitted through the young group.

"Still can't believe that guy took the bomb out in the kayak like that," Kline said, shaking his head in disbelief. "That was badass A-F."

The other Gen Z staff nodded.

"Should we just start and fill Ginny and Nadine in when they get here?" Padma asked. She glanced at her watch. "I kinda had plans to meet some friends at Humpback Beach for the day until my five o'clock shift." She glanced at the rest of her coworkers, who all seemed equally eager to get the show on the road.

Wyatt gritted his teeth. "You are being paid for this meeting. We would never ask you to come for a staff meeting and not pay you. We value your time. But yes, Nadine and Ginny are both fifteen minutes late. So let's start."

At that same moment, the front door to the pub burst open and a very frazzled Nadine came in, flushed in the cheeks and with her messy topknot messier than normal. Her plain, white T-shirt also had a big rip at the neck. Was that seriously the fashion now? To deliberately look like a hobo, or like you'd just been in a bar fight? What next? Blood splattered clothes on the runways of Milan where the models not only had clothes that looked like it was covered in blood, but their faces were awash with the same paint? As if they'd just returned from bludgeoning someone?

Wyatt would never understand fashion, and a big part of him didn't want to.

However, Nadine was also no somebody who normally dressed this … odd, or grunge. She literally looked like she'd been in a fight.

"Sorry I'm late," Nadine said, out of breath as she swung her fanny-pack-style, cross-body bag off her body and into her lap while taking a seat beside Monique. "What'd I miss?"

"Are you okay?" Wyatt asked. "Your shirt is all ripped and … did something happen?"

Nadine's cheeks pinked up, but she scoffed and smiled. "I overslept, hence the crazy hair. Then my shirt caught on a nail on the doorjamb of the bathroom and it ripped. But I figured I'd just grab a bar shirt with the company logo on it anyway." Her smile grew wider and she made a bleak attempt to straighten her top knot and her torn shirt.

"Do you know where Ginny is?" Bennett asked. "Don't you two often carpool?"

Nadine shrugged. "Yeah, sometimes. But she told me she wanted to ride her bike today. Why? Is she not here yet?"

Wyatt shook his head, his Spidey-sense tingling more than ever as he reassessed Nadine's appearance. "No. She's not," he said slowly, exchanging curious and confused looks with his brothers.

"Nadine, where is Ginny?" Wyatt asked again, his tone sharp and leaving absolutely no room for hesitation.

Nadine's mouth opened in shock, but it took her a moment to say anything. "I don't know. I told you that." She glanced around at the other staff members. " We don't always carpool. She rode her bike today. As she often does, especially if she's working a day shift." She shrugged again. "Maybe she got a flat tire?" Or maybe she skipped town because she knew they were closing in on her and going to figure out that she was the one mole.

Nadine knew more than she was saying. Wyatt could just tell. Something was up. Something really fucking terrible. He needed to get back up to the house to Vica.

Dom, Bennett, and Wyatt's phones all started to buzz at the exact same time.

They glanced at them. It was a message from Myla.

Your server Ginny was just found dead in her dorm room at the hostel.

Disbelief and fear created a nauseating vortex in his belly. He really needed to get back to Vica. He was about to say he couldn't stay for the meeting, when the front door flew open again.

It was Brooke. "Jenkins and Fischer … they have Vica. They arrested her … disabled the gate."

Dom, Wyatt, and Bennett all surged to their feet so fast their chairs toppled over behind them.

Justine was behind her, and a huge purple bruise covered her face. Bennett zeroed in on it and went to her. "What happened?"

"Jenkins," she said, the whole right side of her face puffy, making it difficult for her to speak. "They destroyed all of our phones. They took Vica somewhere."

"We need to warn Burke," Bennett said, distracted by Justine's injury. "They might be heading to get Evie next."

"Why Burke?" Nadine asked. She glanced around the room. "Why isn't Burke here?"

"He's, uh … he deserves a day off," Dom said, meeting Wyatt's gaze and stopping himself before he said too much.

Wyatt and Dom were out the door and piling into Dom's truck in seconds. Bennett and Brooke stayed with Justine and the staff .

"Where do you think they took her?" Wyatt asked, letting Dom drive, because he knew that if he drove, he'd probably get them in a fucking accident.

"The police station?" Dom asked. "Isn't that where you take people when you arrest them?"

"You really think Ginny was the mole?" Wyatt asked when Dom reached the end of the laneway. He barely stopped at the stop sign before taking a left, which was in the direction of the police station.

"I don't know what to believe anymore. I do want to know how the fuck they knew the women were there alone though."

Wyatt nodded as he called Myla.

"It's not looking good, Wyatt," Myla said. "Signs of foul play. Ginny was suffocated in bed by a pillow over her face."

Wyatt raked his fingers through his hair. "Fuck. I feel terrible for Ginny. But that's not why I'm calling. Jenkins and Fischer showed up and arrested Vica. They have her."

"What?" Myla exclaimed.

"What happened?" Everett murmured in the background.

"Jenkins and Fischer went and arrested Vica."

"But they're not on duty," Everett said. "What the fuck?"

"What do you mean they're not on duty?" Dom asked, after Wyatt put the phone on speaker.

"They're on night shift. We're day shift today," Myla said. "They shouldn't be arresting anybody."

Wyatt and Dom's eyes both went wide, and they looked at each other as Wyatt grew more and more nauseous. "They're not going to the police station," Dom said.

"What happened there?" Everett asked.

"They destroyed the circuit board for the security gate, went to the house, and arrested Vica while destroying all three women's phones," Wyatt said. "And Jenkins assaulted Justine. Her face is fucking purple. "

"Motherfuckers," Everett said. "Okay. We're on our way."

"On your way where?" Dom asked, panic in his voice. "We don't even know where the fuck we're going."

"Where are you now?" Myla asked.

"Almost at Gunpowder Trail," Dom replied.

"We'll meet you there and we'll go together." Then the line disconnected.

"Pull over," Wyatt said to his brother. "I'm going to be sick."