Mastered By The Mavericks (44 page)

Kellan, thank God, jerked her back to her feet, and farther away—

Until another shadow moved. This time, prompting her to throw down her purse, shove
away Kellan, and deny anything else existed—even time.

The shadow surrendered a man.

The Viking of a man she loved.

Steps ragged. Dirty face tracked with tears. Arms stretched up and out…carrying the
limp body of the other man she loved.

‡

T
hey were out,
thank fuck. Free. Then running as fast as they could, through the fence Rebel had
severed with that first grenade launch, into the wide field beyond. With burning legs
and raging lungs, Rhett pushed himself faster. Torqued himself to the edge of cardio
resistance, in order to get as far away from the next detonation that rocked the twilight
air, exploding more birds out of the trees, and turning the sky more orange than the
sunset toward the west.

Thankfully, the ground dipped a little. The nine of them dropped into the crevice,
breathing hard, anxiously eyeing their wake.

“Holy crap,” Kellan panted.

“Holy shit,” Tait seconded.

“Holy
fuck
!” Zoe screamed.

Shay, having never left her side, murmured words of encouragement that did little
to ease the tension in the air. Though emergency truck sirens wailed in the distance,
Kellan and Zeke went elbows-up against the berm, sighting the horizon through their
guns in case any of Adler’s goons decided to play hero and give them pursuit. Tait
had joined his brother, attending to Zoe.

That left Garrett and Brynn to join Rhett—at the side of the man he’d laid in the
grass as if he were suddenly handling sheer glass.

“Moon.” He touched fingers to Rebel’s face with the same hesitant care.

Rebel didn’t move.

He pressed in harder.

“
Moon.
”

He lifted his hand, brushing the distinct black waves back from that noble French
forehead. They were covered in so much soot, they now looked gray. Shit. The Cajun
bastard was going to be just as hot as an old man as he was now.

You
will
grow old, damn it. Prove it to me now. Prove it, and laugh in my face all you want
to about it.

Garrett leaned in. Rhett snarled at him, and at the hand he extended toward Rebel’s
carotid. “Get away.” He glared at Garrett’s hand, making it clear he was ready to
bite it off if he had to. A little blood and flesh would blend fine to the stew of
agony boiling in his gut.

Garrett froze but didn’t back off. “Double-Oh. Let me help.”

“You can help by backing the
hell
off, Hawk. Are you fucking listening to me?” He lunged out, hovering over Reb like
an overprotective wolf, until a soft, quivering hand scraped against his scalp.

“Rhett.” Brynn’s husky whisper shook as erratically as her fingers. “Let him help.
We—we need to know—if—”

Her high gasp sliced it into a hundred shaky slivers. Each one of those blades gashed
at him, too. He hated his own breath. Hated himself for sitting here, whole and alive,
while—

No. Not whole.

He clutched Brynn’s hand in, smashing it against his face. He framed Reb’s face the
same way. “Cold. He’s so cold.” It tumbled out of him on one of those hated breaths
as Garrett checked for vitals…and was ominously silent about what he found. Or hadn’t
found.

No.

No.

“Why is he so fucking cold?” He blurted it because he refused to hear anything else.
Even Zoe’s new shriek was a relief. Like the bastard he was, he secretly thanked her
for it. Anything was better than the silence of Garrett’s readings…than the stillness
of his friend’s body.

No. Not his friend.

His love.

“Moon.” Another damn breath he was taking, instead. Another ragged sigh in its wake.
Another moment of living on because of what this man had done for him…added to a list
that numbered in the thousands. No. To fucking infinity. How was the gift of love
quantified? Measured? Marked? It couldn’t be.

It could only be symbolized.

With a kiss, soft and pleading.
Why are you still so cold
?

It could only be shown.

With an embrace, pressing a pounding heart to a still chest.
Don’t give up.

It could only be whispered.

With words that emanated from places of truth…deep in the soul.

“Come back, damn it. I love you.”

‡

T
ears blurring her
eyes, Brynna reached again for Rhett.

Garrett slid to let her get closer, but on the way, let her see the dismal truth of
what he’d found during his brief check of Rebel’s vitals. The sorrow in the man’s
light blue eyes was like an ice pick into her heart. Her vision quivered.

Rhett snatched her in tighter. Tighter. Yanked her so hard, her torso was enveloped
between his and Rebel’s. The heartbeat against her left ear was a raging tattoo of
grief. The heartbeat against her right…

was barely there.

But she squeezed her eyes shut and clung to both the beats…for as long as God would
allow.

And clung.

And clung.

Even as the night wind kicked higher. Even as the sirens shrilled nearer. And yes,
even as Zoe’s screams lengthened. Brynn knew, without even doubting, that Zoe understood
why she was here and not over there. Her friend wasn’t alone. Zo had both Shay and
Tait, helping her ride the contractions that would soon bring a new life to the world.

As Rhett and she said goodbye to another.

The tears thickened, welling from chasms in her so deep, she couldn’t fathom the bottom.
Maybe they had none. It was certainly possible, given how the sobs followed, stealing
breath, draining thought, demanding surrender. She had no choice. She set them all
free, gladly offering them as sacrifice to the last mortal moments she’d have with
these two beautiful, brave, amazing men. And she told them so, by giving them the
most precious gift she could think of.

“Thank you…for everything. For all of it…my Sirs.”

God gave her the best reward for it, too. A few more heartbeats. A few more.

Then a sparse rasp from just above her. “You’re welcome, little peach.”

And then, as if the wind itself brought it, “You’re welcome,
ma belle minette
.”

Rhett and she jerked up so sharply, they collided heads. But she knew her lesson now.
Pain at the hands of these two was the very best pain of all. “Oh my God.” She swiped
impatiently at the tears now, despite the jubilant well they overflowed from. Blurred
vision wasn’t going to do. She needed to see him clearly—to confirm that the reality
wasn’t just a trick of her mind or a fluke of the wind.

No trick. As she raised up, soot-covered lashes lifted off her pirate’s carved, dirt-covered
cheeks. But blazing out from the dirt, orbs the color of Caribbean lagoons shined
at her then Rhett.

“Oh my
fucking
God.” Rhett’s burst embellished her words with brutal, joyful force. A smile shining
past his tears, he dropped another kiss directly on Rebel’s lips. Immediately after,
he jerked his head at Brynn, commanding her to do the same. Rebel’s mouth moved eagerly
beneath hers, tasting smoky and sweaty—and perfect.

Rhett punctuated off their kiss by landing a punch to Rebel’s shoulder. “Shit clot,”
he growled. “Don’t you
ever
fucking do that again.”

Rebel attempted a laugh but had to stop at a parched cough. “Yeah, yeah,” he mumbled.
“I love you, too.”

*     *     *

Four months later,
she replayed that moment in her mind for at least the millionth time. Cherished its
warmth in her heart even as she tugged her thick sweater close, battling the chill
that seemed a perpetual resident in her bones now. No matter how hard she tried, her
body wasn’t accepting the message that it was August first in Las Vegas, Nevada.

Just as her heart hadn’t accepted that life had to go on without the two men she loved.

She’d stayed in Austin for another week, switching shifts in the hospital with Rhett,
making sure that one of them was at Rebel’s side through every minute of his recovery.
The Cajun had saved his own life by setting enough of a timer on the explosives that
he could dive into the bathroom for cover, resulting in a broken arm, a hell of a
lot of bruises, and a whopper of a concussion, the main reason why it was necessary
for the doctors to hold him for a few days longer.

That extra time was just what the guys had needed. Brynn had looked on, heart swelling,
as their connection and devotion to each other grew by the day. When Rebel was finally
discharged, Rhett held his hand all the way to the car.

Neither of them were the wiser to how deeply she’d fallen for them.

It was how things had to remain. How things
would
remain.

They had each other now. They had their team now. She had been nothing more than a
pleasant add-on to the package for a while—one Rebel had even fought at first. She
could carry no illusions about mattering more than she had, or ever would.

And there was the cloud that wouldn’t leave the skies of her world. That rained a
chill on her even now, as she enviously watched a bunch of women enter the lobby of
The Wynn in their skimpiest cocktail finery. Their Louboutins and Jimmy Choos made
luxurious taps on the marble floors; their jewelry looked like wearable stars even
in the vestibule’s muted lighting. They were on the arms of dashing men in designer
suits, laughing with seductive smiles. No doubt, they were all heading out for the
massive preview party sponsored by the city’s newest high-roller resort, The Nyte.
The membership-only hotel was opening soon, and besides the gleaming rise of its tower
over the skyline, nobody knew much about what it would offer. Grand opening staff
members were only allowed to release one public statement:
We’ll be the best.

Fleetingly, she wondered if The Nyte would be casting for an in-house show.

Agonizingly, she realized that she didn’t care.

She’d just looked through the UNLV courses being offered for September, confirming
that if she bit the bullet and attended school full-time, she’d complete her psychology
coursework by Christmas. After that, she’d be ready for her internship. She was both
invigorated and terrified—a combination of emotions she could’ve processed better,
if she just gave in to her growing craving for a hard spanking—but facing her submissiveness
wasn’t the same as trusting someone with it. She just wasn’t…
there
…yet.

Who the hell was she kidding?

She’d never be
there
with anyone but Rhett and Rebel for a very long time. Perhaps not ever. And she was
fine with that.

She had to be.

“Brynna.”

She pushed down the tears, plastered a smile to her lips, and looked up. As her gaze
hit the handsome face of the man who’d invited her to lunch, it stunned her that the
smile wasn’t as tough to sustain as she thought.