Chapter Eleven

It sure the fuck was…Was that the little boy from earlier?

Moving carefully, Brick stayed as close as possible to the wall until he reached the back of the room.

He pulled his knife. He didn’t really want to kill anyone over breaking and entering, and this wasn’t his place so technically, he was also trespassing…but there was a baby crying down that hallway somewhere.

He came up behind one man, who was comfortable enough to be surfing Instagram on his phone, and locked his arm around the fucker’s neck.

Someone banged loudly on a rattling door somewhere down the hallway, so the noise of the cell phone clattering to the floor went unnoticed. When the man finally slumped in his grip, he let the guy slide quietly to the ground.

“Brick,” Felix hissed from behind him and Brick let out a sigh of relief. “What do we have?”

“Eight perps, well now six.” Brick spotted Gunner over Felix’s shoulder and a shit ton of Cobalt recruits behind them. It was a good fucking thing they’d designed quarters for the trainees to live, eat, and breath bodyguarding while in training. They all wore safety vests and gear and were heavily armed with non-lethal weaponry.

“Wait…” Felix’s mouth gaped, his whisper harsh. “Is that a baby crying?”

“Yeah, so be fucking careful,” Brick ordered the new recruits in a harsh whisper.

They shifted nervously, but Brick didn’t have time to coddle them.

“Let’s move,” Gunner ordered quietly.

“Follow me,” Brick kept his tone like Gunner’s, almost inaudible—even though the ongoing pounding would have muffled their words.

“Open the door, Fighter,” the shout echoed, as Cobalt stealthily approached along the dark hallway.

“You’re just delaying the inevitable.” Brick recognized the voice of the man from yesterday harassing Fighter.

Brick shouldn’t have been as pissed off as he suddenly felt, but nobody was going to fuck with Fighter…well, except for him.

Using hand signals, he gave the order and his team moved in behind him. Reaching the corner, Brick stepped into the narrow passageway. A man was banging on the door at the very end of the hallway, and the rest of the perps were laughing or fucking off on their phones. One of them noticed him and his group, but by that time, it was too fucking late.

Cobalt swarmed over the fuckers with Brick in the lead. The guy pounding on the door pulled a gun, but Brick was already there. One blow with his brass knuckles and he broke the fucker’s jaw, knocking him out in the process. Something he’d wanted to do yesterday. Once the perps were dispatched, Brick ordered Gunner to take them out to the larger front room and zip-tie them while they waited for law enforcement.

“You going in?” Felix asked, hesitating.

“Yeah. Go on, I’ll handle this.”

“Be nice,” Felix whispered and disappeared, leaving him at the door.

Be nice.

Was that even in his nature? Brick wiped his suddenly sweating palm on his pants and pressed it flat to the door.

“Fighter?”

Silence greeted him and he pressed his ear to the flimsy door. The baby was still crying, but it was a muffled cry as if someone was trying to keep it quiet.

“Fighter? It’s safe,” he said.

Nothing, but another child started to cry.

Well, shit.

“Fighter? It’s Brick.” He didn’t know if that would help or hurt. “We got them all, it’s okay to come out. I swear.”

Ear to the door, he heard feet shuffle and he stepped back as the lock clicked. Nothing else, just the lock being disengaged. Drawing in a deep breath, Brick slowly turned the knob and just as slowly, opened the door. It swung inward, and across the small, cluttered room stood Fighter holding the baby from the market in his arms and the tiny girl in pigtails with her arms locked around one of his legs. Fighter looked scared to death and Brick knew it wasn’t for his own life, but for those two babies.

“Hey.” Yeah, that sounded lame, but it was all he could come up with at the moment.

“Why are you here?” Fighter’s voice cracked.

“I was passing by?” He rubbed a hand at the back of his neck.

Fighter’s laugh was weak and that was when Brick really noticed how pale the man was. He could only imagine Fighter huddled in here with no hope of escape, trying to keep those two children safe.

“No gun?”

“I don’t keep them or carry them in here,” Fighter croaked softly and turned to put the baby in a rickety crib that had seen better days. Brick moved closer when the chubby arms waved. Fighter leaned down and blew a raspberry on the baby’s stomach and the boy giggled.

The little girl hadn’t said a word, and continued watching him with wide, dark eyes as the man expertly attached a clean diaper to the boy.

Brick crouched down in front of the girl, but he still wasn’t at her level, she was that tiny. “Hi there.”

Fighter glanced at him and then down at the little girl. Lifting the baby to his hip, Fighter dropped to one knee and scooped the girl close. “Emma, this is Brick.”

“Brick, this is Emma, and this chunk is Elijah.”

Brick smiled at the girl and flicked his eyes up to hold Fighter’s.

“Yours?”

“Yes.”

Okay…where was the mother? The question stayed locked up inside Brick because that was none of his fucking business.

“Boss?” Felix called from the doorway.

“Yeah?” Brick stayed crouched, not taking his eyes from Fighter.

“The cops arrived.”

“Call Jaxon,” Brick said. “Fill him in and get him to file a report.”

“Hey, Fighter,” Felix said, lifting his hand. “Cute kids.”

“Hey.” Fighter stood with both kids in his arms, and Brick stood at the same time.

Felix disappeared back down the hallway.

“Let’s get out of here,” Brick said briskly.

“Where? This is our place.” Fighter’s eyes turned into cold chips of black onyx.

“How about someplace safe for tonight until you get the doors fixed?” Brick kept his voice even and calm.

“Where could that possibly be?”

“What about Bishop?” Brick said.

“He’s couch surfing at the moment.” Fighter shook his head.

“What about that other guy that hangs around?”

“Mark?”

“Yeah.”

“No.” Fighter didn’t elaborate at all and Brick grew curious.

“A hotel?”

“I can’t afford one.”

Brick pressed his lips flat to keep his mouth shut for a moment. He could not offer to pick up the bill, he knew by now that Fighter would clock him if he dared.

“I have a spare room—”

“No fu—way,” Fighter hissed, trying to muffle the anger in his words, but it shone in his eyes.

“Fighter!” Mark rushed into the room and around Brick to take the little girl into his arms. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” Fighter said still glaring at Brick.

“Like I was sayin—” Brick continued calmly.

“Don’t.” Fighter cut him off and handed Mark the baby boy.

Both kids seemed comfortable around Mark and for some reason, that irritated Brick. Fighter crowded up to him and shoved him with a hand to his chest, Brick had no choice but to step back until he was in the doorway. Fighter grabbed the door and stepped forward, forcing them both out into the hallway.

The door snapped closed on Mark’s surprised face as he hugged and snuggled the kids.

Brick was faced with Fighter’s angry gaze in the hallway.

“I don’t need your help.”

One side of Brick’s mouth twitched. “So…I don’t even get a thank you this time either?”

Fighter clenched his jaw, remembering Brick’s cutting words the night of the fundraiser.

How much for the night?

Like he was some whore who could be bought. That was all he could think about right then. He’d almost put it from his mind, but Brick coming to his rescue yesterday had brought it back up.

Why the hell had he done that? It was so out of character for the asshole! Wasn’t it? It really didn’t matter, he wasn’t going to give the guy the time of day.

“Thanks,” he said through his teeth, forcing the word out with every ounce of will.

“Are you going to stay here with the doors broken? It’s freezing.”

“It’s none of your business.”

“Look, I have a safe, warm place you can stay. No strings.”

Quicker than Fighter could anticipate, Brick reached out and gripped his wrist and tugged him forward. He could have thrown the guy or punched him in the throat, but Brick winced in pain. Now, all Fighter could think of was the wound where he’d stabbed Brick.

Of course, on the heels of that thought were the man’s hateful words.Those fucking words. How they’d stung so badly. The bitterness followed by disgust that had swept through Brick’s gray eyes that night had been like a punch to the gut.

Fighter yanked his arm free and shoved both hands into Brick’s chest, backing the man up down the hallway.

“I don’t.”

He shoved Brick again.

“Need.”

Shove.

“Your.”

Shove, shove.

“Help.”

By the time he finished speaking, Fighter had shoved Brick into the large training room. That was when the man finally got the message.

“Okay, Fighter,” Brick said softly.

Brick spoke more softly than Fighter had ever imagined the guy could speak and for some reason, his eyes prickled, which pissed him off.

“Please leave,” he croaked.

Without a word, Brick gave a shrill whistle to his team and they headed out the broken front door and into the falling snow, hauling the perps with them.

Brick was the last out and Fighter held his breath when the man paused at the exit.

Crack!

Fighter jumped when Brick punched the door frame. He stared after Brick until the man disappeared out the door.

And for some fucked up reason, he felt suddenly bereft.

Screw it!

That son of a bitch could rot in hell!

He just saved him and the kids…again.

“Ugh.” Fighter made a noise in the back of his throat.

So the hell what if Brick liked playing the fucking hero?

Did that mean he owed his enemy?