Easton's Claim (Colebrook Siblings Trilogy Book 3) (18 page)

“Piper and I are officially together,” he announced. “So you guys can just deal with seeing me kiss her.”

Piper made a choked sound but didn’t protest when he slid a hand into her hair and bent to kiss her. Her eyes were wide as he leaned down and sealed his mouth over hers. He heard Jamie’s low chuckle, then Charlie and Austen both cheered and clapped.

When he lifted his head a moment later Piper stared up at him, her cheeks bright pink. “There. Secret that wasn’t really a secret is out.”

“Well, that’s one way to do it,” Wyatt muttered, and when Easton looked over at him, he was shaking his head in dismay.

But there was one person’s approval that mattered to him more than anyone else’s. He shifted his gaze to his father, who was staring at them with an unreadable expression.

“Dad?” Beside him, he could feel Piper holding her breath as she awaited his father’s reaction. “Tell her you’re fine with it. She’ll worry otherwise.”

A lopsided grin split his father’s face, filled with such approval and affection that Easton’s chest tightened. “’Bout damn time.”

Everyone laughed and Piper hid her face against his chest, but not before he caught the relieved smile there. He hugged her to him and kissed the top of her head. “See? Nothing to worry about. We’re good.”

She nodded, let out a shaky laugh. “I’m going to punish you later for this. Severely.”

“Oooh, can’t wait.”

“Pervert.” She tipped her head back to glare up at him, but her eyes were brimming with a mix of annoyance and laughter. “I thought you said you’d matured.”

“Well, no one’s perfect,” he said with a grin. “But if anyone can tame me, it’s you.” And now that he’d gone and made a spectacle of them, he needed to get her out of here and give her time to decompress.

Staking his claim in front of his family was one thing; embarrassing her was another. “Come on, let’s go dig your clothes out of the shed.”

****

This is a really shitty plan
. The kind that could get him killed.

He had no choice but to go through with it, however.

Greg kept his breathing shallow in an effort to spare his cracked ribs as he crouched down and knelt in the underbrush of the heavy woods at the far west side of the Colebrook property. Gallant stood a few feet behind him with a 9 mm Beretta aimed at his back, and two of his goons stood off to either side. They all wore NVGs to help them see in the growing darkness.

Everything hurt, inside and out. He’d pissed blood this morning, right after receiving the beating and the kidney shots that had gotten him to agree to do this. Even during his worst days in the Army, nothing had been this bad.

“How far away is the shed?” Gallant asked him.

He let out a slow, painful breath before answering. “Through the woods and across the pasture. Few hundred yards maybe.” In his condition, that was going to feel like a few miles and he dreaded each and every step he’d have to take. He was better trained than the others.

A small part of him wanted to run, to risk getting shot in the back and just take off into the forest. He knew the area. Knew how to hide and evade someone tracking him. He also knew it would be suicide. At his prime, he might have been able to do it. The pain would slow him too much, and he was weak. They’d either catch him or shoot him before he’d made it five steps.

It had been months since he’d had a hit of anything stronger than coffee, and man, what he wouldn’t give for the chance at oblivion right now.

At this point, he’d decided that death might be a blessing. But if he died it would leave Piper in serious danger. That was the only reason he stayed put. He had to pull this off, find what he’d stolen from Gallant, and hope it was enough. After that, he didn’t care what happened to him. Just as long as Piper didn’t suffer any more for his sins.

He’d been a shitty person, and an even shittier husband. He’d allowed the addiction to take over his life and transform him into someone even he hadn’t recognized. Half-assed attempts at getting clean over the past few years had done nothing to clean him up.

He’d thought his rock bottom moment was when Piper had left him. He’d come home one day to find the house empty, all her clothes and belongings gone. No note, not even a text to tell him. She’d finally up and left him as she’d been threatening to do for the last two years of their marriage, leaving the signed separation papers on the kitchen counter for him to find.

On the one hand while he didn’t blame her for that, it had still crushed him. He’d wound up going on a week-long bender. Didn’t remember anything after that third hit, until he’d woken up in the hospital with the doctors telling him he was lucky to be alive.

This rock bottom was so much worse. His actions had not only endangered his life, but now Piper’s as well. He had to fix this. Protect her however he could. He owed her that much.

“Dawson says there are four trucks and an SUV out front of the house,” Gallant said to him in a quiet voice. He gave the makes and models. “Know who they belong to?”

“No.” This was fucking insane. Old man Colebrook would be there, along with Easton and whoever else was staying at the house.

Gallant and his men hadn’t been trained by the military. They had no discipline, and worse, were unpredictable because they had nothing to lose and Gallant had made it clear he was willing to kill whoever he had to in order to recoup his lost goods.

“Get moving,” Gallant ordered, gesturing impatiently with the pistol.

“What if it’s not even there?” he asked, trying one last time to make Gallant call this off.

“Then we’ll take Piper and convince her to remember where the furniture is. Now
move
, asshole.”

The things they would do to Piper made Greg’s blood run cold. He had to keep her safe. God knew he’d failed her in every other way; he couldn’t fail her now.

“So I see subtlety still isn’t one of your strong points,” Piper joked to Easton as they headed through the barn hand-in-hand, torn between annoyance and laughter.

“Well now you don’t have to feel shy about us anymore.” He raised her hand to his lips and kissed the back of it, as if that made it all better.

“You’re lucky I’m so into you, otherwise I’d be really pissed right now.”

He stopped and turned to face her, the overhead lights in the barn illuminating the strong planes of his face as he looked down at her. Several horses were in the stalls, mostly expectant mothers. One stomped its hoof against the floor and another snorted out a long breath.

“Guess that means I dodged another bullet,” he murmured, and lowered his mouth to hers. The kiss was slow at first, tender, then harder. Possessive.

When he raised his head a minute later, she was dazed and breathless. He studied her eyes, and a satisfied grin curved his lips. “And now I know how to make up with you when you’re mad at me.”

She snickered at his self-satisfied expression. “As long as you don’t take advantage of it or make it a habit, I’m okay with that.”

“That’s fair. Now let’s go get you some clothes.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Although I find the thought of you running around the cabin naked pretty appealing.”

“Ha, no. You wish. Pervert.” She’d die of embarrassment if Mr. C or anyone else happened to catch sight of her as she darted from room to room.

His eyes gleamed with hunger as he smiled at her. “You love it.”

Okay, yeah. She did.

Looking all too smug at her lack of retort, he tugged on her hand and they continued out the back door of the barn. Thin clouds drifted over the half moon and a damp, dew-scented breeze ruffled her hair.

The shed was painted to match the barn, situated a stone’s throw from the back entrance. It housed gardening tools and the ride-on lawnmower, as well as all her remaining clothes and the few pieces of furniture she’d packed away with the boxes.

As soon as they stepped out onto the gravel path that connected the barn and shed, Sarge pushed himself to his feet where he’d been napping against the barn. The old basset hound set his front paws out in front of his long body and gave a mighty, shuddering stretch, his butt and tail pointing skyward, then trotted after them.

Easton undid the padlock holding the door shut and flipped on the light. The twenty-by-twenty shed was stacked to the roof with her things. “Where are the ones with your clothes?” he asked, maneuvering his way through the stacks of cardboard boxes.

“I don’t remember but most of them should be labeled.” In her haste she hadn’t been as careful or organized as she normally would have.

“Of course they are,” he murmured.

She shot him a look. “Just look around until you find them. I’ll start here.” She stepped up to the closest one and ripped the packing tape off.

“Here. Try this.” Easton leaned over a stack of boxes to hand her a wickedly-sharp military-style blade, handle first. “Careful with it. It’s like a razor.”

She took it, blinked at him. “Where did it come from?” He was only wearing jeans and a T-shirt, plus his holster. The sheath must be hidden under one of the legs of his jeans.

His eyes held a mischievous twinkle. “I’ll let you search me later and find out.”

“All right, I’m game for that.” Smiling to herself, she sliced through the tape without any effort, and carefully set the knife on top of another box while she opened the first one. Towels, her pretty soaps and other toiletries met her gaze. “Nope. Not this one.” She folded the flaps together to lock them in place and set it aside, shook the next one to test for weight. The quiet clink of dishes answered what was in it.

Easton was already working his way through a stack of boxes on the other side of the shed. “Think I’ve got something here. Oh yeah,” he murmured, holding up a fistful of ruby red lace.

She blushed and opened her mouth to tell him to put it back but he shook it out and let the sexy chemise dangle by the straps from his hand. “You can wear this while you’re searching me,” he added, looking pleased with himself. “I wonder what else you’ve got in here?” He ducked his head and rummaged through the box some more. “Oh, man. I’m so glad I didn’t know you had a lingerie obsession all these years. It might have killed me.”

“You’re such a dork,” she said on a laugh and opened the next box. She finally found one containing something to wear over her lingerie hoard and dug through it to find some warmer items.

Sarge was sniffing around near her feet. She stepped out of his way and he disappeared through the maze of boxes to go search along the side of the shed, where all the furniture was.

“You find anything?” When Easton didn’t answer, she heard a soft
woof
and looked up. He was staring at something she couldn’t see, presumably Sarge, and the intent expression on his face made her pulse quicken. “What is it?”

“Look at him,” he said, pushing boxes aside to make a path for himself.

Piper hurried to do the same. After clearing enough room to squeeze through, she stepped around a stack of boxes and found Sarge sitting at the foot of one of her grandmother’s pieces. He was perfectly still, gazing up at Easton. “He’s not doing anything.”

“I think maybe he’s alerting. Get Wyatt.” Easton bent to examine the small chest of drawers.

Her eyes widened. Sarge was a retired narcotics and tracking dog.

Whirling, she rushed out of the shed and ran to the house. “Wyatt,” she called out as soon as she threw the back door open. “Easton thinks Sarge is alerting him about something in the shed. Can you come check?”

He was there in moments, jogging with her back to the shed. Easton was stretched out on his belly with a small flashlight out, studying the back of the chest. He looked up at Wyatt. “He was sniffing around, circling it, then just sat all of a sudden and woofed once. He hasn’t moved away from this spot.”

“Let me see,” Wyatt said, easing past her to squeeze in beside his brother. “Sarge. Search,” he said, pointing at the chest.

The old basset came to life before her eyes, tail wagging as he snuffled at the back of the piece of furniture, then sat, back ramrod straight, and looked up at Wyatt.

“Yeah, he’s got something.”

Piper stood off to the side and watched them work, hands on her cheeks. Oh God, had Greg hidden drugs in there all this time? What kind and how many? Her heart beat faster as she waited for them to find it. Just another disappointment when it came to her ex.

“I’ll be damned,” Easton muttered.

“What?” she asked, moving closer. Wyatt was crouched down beside his brother, eyes glued to something at the back of it.

“False panel,” Wyatt said.

No way. She’d emptied it and packed it over here, then she and Easton had checked it out again the other night. “Where?”

“Right here.” Wyatt aimed the beam of the flashlight to where Easton was working.

“Hand me my knife, Pipe.”

She gave it to him, knelt on the opposite side so she didn’t get in the way while he worked. He gently pried one edge of a thin sheet of mahogany away from the back of the chest. It creaked ominously and she instinctively winced before reminding herself no one cared about a damn antique when the solution to Greg’s kidnapping might be inside it. Besides, Austen could fix it if it broke.

Easton worked up the seam of the wood, carefully easing it away from the back and to her surprise she found herself wanting to snap at him to hurry and to hell with being careful of the wood. She appreciated that he was being so careful with something that meant so much to her. He worked all four corners loose and pried the thin, flat board free.

All three of them leaned closer to see what was inside.

“Ah, shit,” Easton murmured, and her heart sank. He reached in and pulled out brick-shaped packages wrapped in black plastic and secured with duct tape. Then a bag, and a flash drive.

He opened the bag, and she couldn’t help but gasp. Thick stacks of hundred dollar bills filled it. And Easton just kept pulling out more. “Oh my God.” It was an obscene amount of money. How had Greg fit it all in there?