16. Booker

Chapter 16

Booker

T o my surprise, Chase had agreed to meet Brynne at the gas station. He hadn't questioned it or seemed skeptical in the least in his text response, but I tried not to look into it as we couldn't tell the tone of his voice through a screen. For all we knew, he was that bent out of shape about Brynne leaving him that he'd do anything she asked, meet her anywhere she wanted, just for a chance to beg for her back.

"You're staying in the truck," I grumbled as I pulled into the parking lot of the gas station.

"No." Her finger was tapping an unsteady rhythm on her thigh. If she wasn't wearing jeans, she'd have poked a hole clean through her flesh by now.

"It's not up for debate." We'd already had this argument at the ranch, and of course, she'd been adamant then as well.

"He's my ex."

My grip tightened on the steering wheel at the reminder. "An ex who might want you dead. "

"He's not like you," she said, silently referencing the man I'd killed in the gym.

Brynne didn't know Chase might end up like him tonight if things went south. I couldn't promise I wouldn't just shoot the man in cold blood for simply having touched her in the past.

I pulled into one of the parking spots away from the pumps and shifted into park. I left the truck running, but I didn't unlock the doors.

"Henley and Austin will take care of it." They were pulling in on the other side of the lot so it didn't look suspicious that we were together. That, and I wanted eyes on all angles in case Chase tried anything. Brynne was here to point out when Chase arrived, and I was here to keep Brynne under control. We each had a job today, and Brynne getting out of this damn truck?—

The passenger door opened, and my gaze darted to the sound right as Brynne slid out. I reached for her, but the woman slipped just past my grip.

Sneaky fucking girl. She unlocked the damn door herself. I shouldn't have expected anything less.

Yanking my seat belt off, I situated my mask over my face to keep myself hidden and pulled the handle so hard I thought it might snap. I rushed over to her where she was walking toward a gray sedan.

"Brynne," I hissed, quickening my pace.

The driver's side door to the car opened, and the barrel of a gun glistened in the sunlight. I darted for her just in time for the shot to ring out, tackling her to the ground and covering her with my body.

Footsteps sounded on the pavement as Austin and Henley rushed over. Another shot rang out as I looked up, finding Austin ripping open the passenger door on the sedan. Gun in hand, Henley came around the trunk. They were both wearing their skeleton masks to hide their identities as well. While Chase was distracted with Austin invading the vehicle, Henley aimed and took the shot. Instantly, blood stained Chase's khakis, and he dropped his pistol to the asphalt with a shout. He tried to cover the wound, but it was pointless as blood flowed freely. His wrist was in a cast, presumably from when I shattered the bone.

With the weapon out of his hand, my attention snapped back to Brynne. Her hands were pressed to the ground, her cheek squished against the pavement with my body over hers. My hands frantically coasted down her body, feeling for any blood.

"Brynne, Darlin', talk to me. Tell me you're okay."

She coughed, presumably from the air being knocked out of her not moments ago. I shoved up off the ground, my eyes searching her body. Grabbing her shoulder, I flipped her onto her back, checking her torso.

"I'm okay," she croaked before coughing again. She had tiny pebbles stuck to her rosy cheek along with indentations freckling her arms from the debris.

I felt bad for crushing her, but fuck, it was better than her getting shot. Anything was.

With one last in-depth visual search of her body, I moved my gaze to the guys where they had Chase pinned to the ground, his wound oozing blood onto the pavement.

"Get the fuck off of me!" He squirmed, but Austin had his knee pinning his hands behind his back, cast and all. Henley was picking up the gun with a towel, shoving it into a clear plastic bag.

Thankfully, the gas station was empty save for us, and whoever worked inside hadn't come looking to see what chaos had caused the gunshots. Smart thinking, because otherwise, I'd have to take care of two bodies today.

I stood, grabbing Brynne's hands to pull her up in front of me.

"Get in the truck," I instructed, guiding her behind me. Who the fuck knew if Chase had friends waiting to take care of this mess if he wasn't successful.

"I'm not just going to stand by and let you guys take care of all of this."

I spun on her, our faces merely an inch apart. "Yes, you are."

She tipped her chin up, crossing her arms over her chest. There was barely any room between the two of us to do so. "Why can't I help, Booker?"

My lips pressed into a thin line.

She knew the fuck why. She was asking simply to make me say the words.

She tilted her head slightly, aiming her ear my way. "Hmm, what was that, Nightmare? I didn't hear you."

"This isn't the time for games, Brynne."

She straightened her head, fluttering her lashes. "Then admit it, and it won't be a game."

I scoffed, subtly shaking my head. She was ridiculous. She was just shot at by her fucking ex, her life was in literal danger, and she wanted me to get fucking sappy?

Pass.

I leaned closer. "There's nothing to admit, Darlin'. "

Her eyes flashed, but she covered it up seamlessly. "Admit you don't want me hurt because you care about me."

"I only care about keeping you alive until this is all done. Then you're free to do whatever the fuck you want."

I regretted saying it the moment the words left my mouth, but I needed her in the goddamn truck and out of harm's way. If being the villain was what it took to keep her safe, I'd be the fucking villain.

The lie hit its mark, and she turned on her heel, striding back to the truck without so much as a glance over her shoulder. With her posture alone, I could tell I'd hurt her. Maybe not physically, but damn well emotionally. I watched until she closed herself in on the passenger side, then I headed over to Austin and Henley to help them get Chase in the back of Henley's SUV.

By the time I made it over to them, they'd already zip-tied his wrists behind his back and were escorting his limping form to the trunk. He was spewing curse words at them left and right, taking his sweet ass time.

I came up behind him, shoving him forward so that he had no choice but to walk faster.

"What the fuck?" he hissed, nearly collapsing on his injured leg. "I'm fucking shot, dude!"

"Cry me a fucking river," I snapped.

Henley was making sure the tarp was taped down securely while Austin walked alongside Chase, ushering him to the vehicle. With a hard push, he landed chest-first on the plastic layer coating the trunk. We'd brought it as a precautionary method in case he got any hair or saliva anywhere, but now that he was bleeding, it came in handy tenfold.

Austin swung Chase's legs in, then set a hand on the trunk handle.

Chase twisted, panicked eyes darting between us. "Where are you taking me?"

I stepped back, giving Austin space to close the back.

"To your own personal hell."

Horses got injured all the damn time, so a little blood on the rubber mats wouldn't be suspicious. The multiple hoses and drains were convenient for later, hence why Chase was currently tied to a chair in the middle of the wash rack, his hands and legs bound to weathered wood. We hadn't been soft with his broken wrist, and we'd heard all about it the entire time we tied him up. I didn't give a fuck. He didn't deserve an ounce of mercy.

He let out a muffled shout, trying to say something through the cloth looped around his head to keep him quiet. He'd started screaming the moment the rope was tight around his wrist, so I'd finally shut him up. He could yell all he wanted—there was no one to save him out here—but my sanity needed the fucker to quit his complaints.

Brynne hadn't said a word to me on the drive back and went straight into the house after we pulled into the driveway. I'd wanted to go after her, to explain that I only said what I said to keep her safe, but I had other things I needed to take care of first. The fact that I had to choose between her and Chase only made me hate him more. I'd get the information we needed out of him, and then he'd be off my hands, and I could go make things right with the woman in our house.

I couldn't believe I was even thinking those words, but here I was.

In the aisle of the barn, the propane forge burned bright, heating up the metal on the fire poker. I would've used our branding iron, but I didn't want any ties to this ranch with what we were about to do.

Henley set the fifth bucket of water by the wall, wiping his hands on his jeans. The autumn night air held a chill, a coyote howling somewhere in the distance, as I nodded at Austin. He stepped toward Chase, whose eyes were frantic as they darted around, looking every which way. Austin pulled the cloth down to his neck, then retreated a few feet, crossing his arms.

Chase sucked in quick breaths, his chest heaving against the ropes. "What do you want from me?"

I held his gun in my gloved hand, holding it up to admire it like I'd never seen such a weapon before, but in reality, I was all too familiar with how to handle the firearm. "Not going to ask where your girlfriend is?" I fucking hated putting the claim on her like that, but I wanted him riled up.

His brows pulled inward for a split second, enough time to indicate he'd completely forgotten she was a part of this. What a fucking dick.

Chase pointed his eyes at me. "Where is she?"

I dropped the gun to my side, my finger off the trigger with the barrel pointed at the ground. "In my bed. "

The vein in Chase's neck bulged as realization hit him. In his mind, she was fucking the wrong side.

"Why'd you shoot at her?" I asked, casually starting to circle him where he sat.

"I was aiming at you," he bit out.

We both knew that was a lie.

I came around his side, bringing the tip of the barrel to his chin to tilt it upwards. "Why'd you try to shoot Brynne?"

This wasn't the objective here. All we needed was to figure out where the deed to the ranch was, and we could kill him. Yet here I fucking stood, playing protector over a woman who wasn't even mine.

"I told you, I wasn't trying to hit her."

I cocked the hammer back with my thumb. A bead of sweat rolled down Chase's temple to his jaw, dripping onto the mat without a sound, along with the rest of his perspiration and other various bodily fluids that would be washed away later, along with his soul.

"This time, I only want the truth."

His neck bobbed as he swallowed, choking out a breath. "Okay. Okay! She's the only one who knows where I might go to hide. If she's dead, she can't tell anyone."

I hesitated a moment, letting him wonder if I believed it or not, then lowered the gun, stepping away from him. "Why do you need to hide?"

He was setting this up perfectly to spill about the deed. It was almost too easy.

"I already told you why I shot at her. That's why I'm here, isn't it? So you can let me go now. "

I was becoming rather bored, and it was getting late. This needed to be sped up.

I made eye contact with Henley, who dipped his chin in acknowledgment. He bent to grab the handle on one of the buckets, then Austin stepped forward, pulling the cloth back over Chase's mouth. Chase shouted, the sound muffled by the fabric, as Henley came up behind him.

He lifted the bucket in the air, and then a gush of water was cascading over Chase's body in a rush. His gag quickly became soaked, his breaths sputtering as his hair lay damp in his eyes. Austin left the cloth like that for a moment before yanking it down again, the act anything but gentle.

A bored sigh escaped me. "Why would you need to hide?"

Chase blinked rapidly, heaving breaths. "My boss. I owe my boss."

I raised my brow the slightest bit. "What do you owe him?"

Chase tried to wipe his cheek on his shoulder, then said, "That's none of your fucking business."

"Alright." If that's how he wanted to play, I'd fucking play.

Hooking the revolver in my jeans, I walked over to the forge and withdrew the poker with my gloved hand. The fabric was heat resistant, but unfortunately for Chase, his skin wasn't. I ambled over to where Chase sat, the tip of the metal glowing bright red.

"What are you doing with that?" His words were hurried, stumbling over one another.

I stopped directly in front of him. "Getting answers." The spot singed as soon as I brought the blazing tip to his flesh, eliciting a hiss as his skin melted beneath the smoldering metal. He yelled out, sweat dripping from every pore on his body.

I held it there, almost tempted to not remove it until the tool cooled. After a few seconds, I pulled it away, some of his skin coming with it. "You want to talk now? Or should I heat it up again?"

"You're fucking sick!" he yelled, slouched forward slightly now as he panted.

"You want to talk about sick?" I lifted his chin with the tip of the poker, his skin instantly singeing. He screamed, but I kept it steady. "Real fucking bold of you to sling that at me when you were the one sleeping around behind Brynne's back like a fucking coward."

I needed to get back on track, to find the deed before I put this poker through his goddamn neck, but I was losing my patience, and I didn't have much to begin with.

Tears fell down Chase's cheeks, and I removed the tool. He hung his head, saliva dripping from his mouth. "I don't owe him anymore," he managed to get out, his voice hoarse from screaming.

I walked back to the forge, laying the tool back inside, then faced him again. Henley and Austin stood by, waiting for my instruction.

"What do you mean, ‘you don't owe him anymore?'" I hoped like hell he didn't mean what I thought he meant.

He sniffled, not lifting his head. "I gave him the deed this morning."

To my right, Henley's fists clenched, and on my other side, Austin cursed under his breath.

"Where can we find him?" I asked.

Chase shook his head. "You can't."

He clearly underestimated us.

"Why don't you leave that part up to us and tell me where we can find him?"

Chase was silent a moment, clearly thinking over his next words carefully. "He does his dealings at the park near the truck stop about two miles down the exit off seventy-sixth."

That was all I needed.

I gestured to Austin and Henley, who nodded in response. Grabbing Chase's gun from my waist, I aimed it straight at his chest, not giving myself a moment to breathe before pulling the trigger. The bullet landed right where his heart was, and Chase slumped forward further, his breathing ceased.

Blood poured from the wound, staining his clothes, and then, the ground. We could frame it as a suicide if we truly wanted to, a man so lovesick over his lost lover that he couldn't live without her, but the burn marks would be suspicious. Getting rid of his body wouldn't be a problem, anyway. We were well-versed in making someone disappear.

I set the gun on the shelf, pulling the glove off my hand to lay next to it in case they needed to pick it up. Then, I crossed to Chase's hunched frame, fishing around in his pockets for his cell phone. Grabbing the device, I headed out of the barn, leaving Austin and Henley to clean up the mess. The idiot didn't even have a passcode. I found the contact labeled "boss" and shot them a text, asking them to meet Chase at the exact location he had given before I lodged a bullet in his heart. Of course, it wouldn't be Chase arriving, though. It'd be his worst fucking nightmare .

Pocketing the phone, I aimed for the house, spotting the light still on upstairs.

I had other business to take care of tonight.