Anything He Wants: The Betrayal By Sara Fawkes
1
“Am I about to die?” I whispered, heart in my throat.
“That all depends on how quickly my little brother arrives.” A smooth hand crept up my torso to encircle my neck, pinning me back against his body. “Care to make any wagers?”
I trembled in his arms, casting about for a weapon. Once upon a time, the boathouse had been occupied. Furniture, much of it half hidden by sheets, dotted the floor. At some point, however, the living space had been converted to storage, and numerous items dotted the dusty room, including several which were tied to the high ceilings. There was nothing close by for me to use, however. “Are you the one who’s trying to kill Jeremiah?” I asked, stalling for time.
Lucas chuckled, the laugh shaking us both. “While I probably have better reason than most to wish for such a thing, I’m afraid I’m not your man.”
Confused, I leaned my head back to look at him. Lucas was shorter than his stockier brother, such that my head lay atop his shoulder, but his grip was like iron. The man’s gaze was placid, and his lips curled up into a smile at my perusal. “Surprised? I may dislike my little brother, but I’m not interested in his death. Indeed, I’ve been doing everything in my power to prevent it.”
“Then why are you here?”
He laughed again, then dipped his lips close to my ear. “Maybe I missed you.”
Butterflies exploded in my stomach. “Liar,” I muttered. Knowing he wasn’t going to kill me made me suddenly realize the intimacy of our position, and my body’s betrayal irritated me.
“Most definitely.” His cheeky response made me roll my eyes. “Or perhaps I know who you’re looking for.”
I twisted around to look at him. “You know who’s after Jeremiah?”
“Perhaps,” he repeated, his smirk widening.
My lips pursed in annoyance. Infuriating man. “They’re going to find us soon,” I said, glancing out the window. “You should let me go,” I cautioned, “people might get the wrong idea.”
“If I know my little brother, they already know exactly where we are.” He motioned at the surrounding ceiling. “There’s more than likely a camera or three in the rafters above us, watching our every move.” Lucas kissed my cheek, and I flinched away in surprise. “Should we give them a show?”
Irritated by his innuendo, I struggled again but was held fast. “If you had information, why not come through the front entrance like a sane man? Why do all of this hiding and sneaking?”
“It’s more interesting this way. My brother can be anal about his security; it’s fun showing how easy it is to circumvent.” He shrugged. “Besides, my brother would be more likely to call the authorities than let me inside and hear what I have to say.”
“Like he won’t do that now anyway,” I muttered, and Lucas gave a small chuckle. The boards beneath our feet began to quake, and the heavy thump of boots pounding against the boards outside the boathouse shook the old structure.
Lucas merely adjusted his grip, shuffling me between himself and the entryway. “Showtime,” he replied, seemingly unconcerned, as the door into the boathouse crashed open. Guards poured in and surrounded the two of us, and my heart skipped a beat as guns were trained on us. I didn’t see Jeremiah among them, however, and a shard of disappointment lanced my heart. Lucas merely heaved a sigh. “Looks like Jeremiah’s no longer fighting his own fights,” the gunrunner added.
The distinctive clicking noise of a handgun being cocked was easily recognizable, especially when it came from directly behind us. Lucas quickly let me go at the sound, hands lifting as I sprang away to see a gun being held against the sarcastic man’s head.
“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t kill you.”
There was death in that voice as Jeremiah appeared behind Lucas, his eyes blazing with a savagery that took my breath away. The obvious height difference between the two men had never been more apparent; Jeremiah seemed to tower over his older brother, the muscles in his arm bulging against the business shirt he wore. The black gun was trained on Lucas’s temple, Jeremiah’s knuckles around the grip white with strain.
I looked between the two men. Surely Jeremiah wouldn’t…Not his own brother…
Lucas froze, hands up on either side of his head. “Familial loyalty?” Lucas answered lightly, his light words belying the strain I saw in his face. From the sound of his voice he might have been talking about the weather, but the eyes locked on me were bleak.