2. ~Levi~

2

~Levi~

She wasn't home.

According to the eyes I'd had Mason put on her again, she was studying late at the library.

Trying to avoid us.

Well, me.

Thanks to Chloe's big fucking blabbering mouth.

Clearly it had been some form of payback on the part of that train wreck for me pulling her out of Stonewell U by playing on her mother's issues with her being here in the first place and not attending the elite fashion design institute in the City of Tolhurst like Celeste Anders had desired in the first place for her daughter.

I leaned against my Harley as I waited off the dirt road across from Brianna's apartment.

Again.

But this time I wasn't here to observe her in her natural habitat.

Or, stalking her, as some less open-minded people might tar it.

I was here to decimate a threat against her.

Against all of us by extension.

We were at that stage with her now where if anyone came at her, they also came at us.

All right, I'd been in that stage for six fucking years, but now I had Colt and Mason there with me too.

Mason and I had determined that Royce's mercenaries would target her at the apartment, rather than anywhere else. These guys were ghosts, they didn't draw attention, so they'd never come at their targets in a crowded area, or anywhere at all public. No, they'd break into her apartment quietly, then attack from within.

My plan was to put them down while she was in class back at the campus, and then we'd tell her what was going on, give her the whole truth.

This threat from Royce changed things and as bad as it was, it did mean we could finally be done with the secrecy that had been twisting me up.

Her and I had come a long way and I couldn't handle the idea of that being set back, and our closeness being compromised made me sick to my stomach. It was already eating me up inside that the whole Chloe thing had put a dent in things. Fortunately, it was connected to the rest, so once I was able to lift the veil of secrecy, I'd be able to explain why I'd had to do it.

Until then, being cut off from her was something I had to weather for a little while longer.

Movement caught my eye and I watched as a black unmarked van carefully pulled into the lot.

I pushed off my motorcycle and kept myself concealed as I approached the building, keeping an eye on the van as four overly musclebound guys decked out in the cliché all black—jeans and leather jackets—to blend into the night emerged.

They were here.

It was time.

I darted up the opposite entrance to the stairwell and took the steps two at a time toward Brianna's floor.

Fortunately, Mason had managed to empty the building citing a fake gas leak or something—we'd have time to discuss the details later, once this immediate threat was taken care of.

I made it to the fourth floor just as I heard heavy footsteps rushing up the opposite stairwell, coming in hot.

Sliding my tactical knife from the sleeve of my hoodie, I spun it in my hand, then readied a long-practiced fighting stance.

The first one appeared, rounding the staircase, and I reacted instantly, tossing my knife and watching as it embedded in his chest. Unfortunately, not his heart, as Mason had outlawed me taking their lives tonight.

Chaos erupted then, roars and threats spilling forth.

I launched myself at the now injured guy, ripped my knife out of his chest, then slammed my boot into his gut.

The power behind it blew him down the stairs into one of his asshole buddies on the way up behind him and he crumpled into a heap on the landing below.

Another two leapt over them and came at me.

A roundhouse kick that clocked one across the side of the head and had him stumbling back into the wall with a nasty thud took care of one of them, buying me a little bit of time to deal with the other.

He tried to land a punch to the underside of my jaw, but I deflected it easily. His eyes flashed and he tried harder, now realizing what they were dealing with.

That rush that took me when I was street fighting was more intense this time, more raw, because of the stakes involved.

And it fueled everything.

Every move I made, every decision to be absolutely brutal.

Before I knew it, I was beating the motherfucker into the concrete with punch after punch, destroying his face.

As another bolted up the stairs to assist, I snatched his wrist, twisted it mercilessly until I heard that telltale crack and his satisfying cry of pain, then I used it to force him around, wherein I smashed my boot into the back of his knee. As he went down, hitting step after concrete step painfully, the impact knocked him out.

I wrenched the shoulder of another, dislocating it and making him scream.

The fourth came at me and I dodged his blow, then fisted his hair and used the leverage to smash his face into the banister and knock him out cold too.

The two remaining tried to move in to take me together, but as one made his move to snag me, I used it against him and reacted, turning it around and forcing him into a sleeper hold.

I kicked back his buddy and as he staggered down two steps and jarred against the wall, I tossed my blade. He shrieked as it drove through his palm and pinned him to the wall.

The guy in my hold went limp and I released him roughly, watching as he fell into a heap like a ragdoll.

Before I could put the pinned guy out, a whizzing sounded and a tranq embedded in his throat.

He slapped his free hand to it, then Mason was there ripping the knife from his palm. His scream was cut off as he passed out and hit the stairs hard.

I stepped back, wiping sweat off my brow.

"A little slow on the timing, brother."

"Did the best I could with the short notice."

His eyes darted all over at the four guys. "They're all still alive."

"For you. You made it clear you didn't want the mess."

"And major complications, Lev."

"Sure, that." As far as I was concerned, they deserved death for coming at our woman. But Mason and I had a deal, one she had gone to great efforts to broker.

"All right, you deal with this. Call in Hex and have these shits transported far from Stonewell. I'll get Colt up to speed and keep an eye on Brianna."

"Yeah," I murmured. "Go. Watch her. Closely, Mason."

"Got it."

"No," I said, grasping his arm. "Do whatever it takes."

"I will," he vowed. He laid his hand on my shoulder. "We've got her, brother. She's ours now and we'll protect her as ours."

Damn fucking straight.