Devour (Unbreakable Bonds 4)

Ian growled and gave Noah’s shoulder a shove while trying not to laugh. “No, you’ve lost all rights to putting anything in the cart. You both eat crap.”

“Come on, you’ve got to indulge in a little junk food occasionally. What else are you supposed to eat while you’re sitting around naked on a Sunday afternoon watching a Buffy the Vampire Slayer marathon?”

Ian laughed so hard he snorted, which sent them both into stomach-clutching laughter.

It was several minutes before Ian was wiping his eyes and sucking in deep gulps of air. Noah was so good for their group. He fit so perfectly with all of them. He smiled at the man who was grinning at him. If anyone could help heal Rowe, it was going to be Noah.

Reaching for the door handle, Ian suddenly froze as his eyes fell on a tall, rail-thin man as he walked past the front of the truck in the next aisle over. He was older than he remembered, his hair thinner and grayer. There was a new scar on his neck and his face was more heavily lined with the wear of a hard life, but there was no mistaking it. Mick O’Shea. Ian broke free of his horror and sank down in the seat so he could no longer see or be seen through the windshield.

“What’s up?” Noah demanded.

“That man,” Ian said, hating the slight tremor in his voice.

“Black jacket and brown hair? Skinny with a nose like a baboon?”

“Yes. He’s one of Jagger’s goons. He served as one of my guards on occasion.”

Noah chanced a glance down at him, his eyes wide before darting back to look out the windshield. “That was a long time ago.”

“He was one of Jagger’s most trusted men.”

“Would he know anything about Jagger’s auctions?”

Ian shook his head. He wanted to sit up, but he was afraid of Mick seeing him because he knew the man would recognize him. “No, he worked personal security for Jagger. Just at the house. Is he in his car yet?”

“You can sit up. He got in.”

Ian sat up and looked where Noah quickly pointed to a late model Toyota Corolla with a dented trunk door and faded gray paint. His heart thudded again and his palms grew sweaty. In less than a week, he’d seen both Jagger and Mick. His past was crashing down into his present, but it meant that he had a chance to finally close the door on all of it and move on with his life.

“What are we going to do?” Ian asked when Noah sat there, both hands tightly gripping the steering wheel. He looked over at Ian and then back at Mick, his expression pained. Ian could guess what he was thinking. He was afraid to act because Ian was with him. If Rowe or Hollis had been sitting in the passenger seat, they’d already have a plan in place.

“Ian—”

“Hell no! You are not going to let him go!”

“You just said that he didn’t have anything to do with the kids.”

“But he would be Jagger’s first choice to protect his back if he was on the run. He might be able to lead us to Jagger.”

Noah stared at the car as Mick started it, a puff of gray smoke belching out the tailpipe before the white rear lights flashed on. Pounding his fist on the steering wheel, Noah swore first in what sounded like German and then again in English.

“I didn’t know you spoke German.”

Noah violently turned the key of the truck, starting the engine. “I lived in Germany for several years while in the Army. I picked up some, but I don’t remember much beyond the curse words now.” Noah waited until Mick reversed out of his spot and then drove up the end of his aisle before Noah put the truck in reverse. “Rowe is going to fucking kill me.”

They followed the car out of Independence and down out of the hills, back toward Covington in Northern Kentucky. They were more than fifteen minutes from downtown Cincinnati, but it was so easy to disappear within the warren of row houses and crumbling tenements.

Ian sat up straight, one hand clutching the handle on the door, as he watched the car ahead of them. Noah was careful to keep several cars between them as they traveled, hanging back far enough to hopefully remain unnoticed. But Ian knew that couldn’t be an easy thing. Rowe’s truck was monstrously huge and white. It stood out on the road.

Noah suddenly swore under his breath and shifted in his seat so he could pull his phone out of his back pocket. “Here, put him on speaker,” Noah said, handing the cell over to Ian.

Hesitating, Ian glanced at the caller ID, but the number came up unknown. But Ian was willing to guess that he knew the caller the same as Noah. As soon as he answered, Rowe’s strained voice filled the cab.