“No, I’m not fucking high,” he bit out.

  That had clearly annoyed him.

  “Well then, why are we doing this? Why do you think I’m in danger?”

  “Because you are.”

  I threw up my hands in frustration. “Thanks for clarifying. I feel so much better about all this now. My phone was in the house, Wilder. What if someone calls me? I have plans this afternoon. Hamilton is coming to pick me up. What happens when he shows and I’m not there, but my door is smashed in, and my phone, purse, car are all there? Did you think of that? This is technically a crime you’re committing here. Taking me by force. It’s called kidnapping.”

  “You can shut up, or I can gag you,” Wilder said, cutting his eyes toward me, as if he’d rather look anywhere else.

  “Gag me? See, that’s only making the crime worse. None of this is legal. I’m your daughter’s aunt, and I realize you don’t—” I stopped talking as he reached behind the seat. My eyes dropped to his bicep that was flexing against the fitted, short-sleeved black shirt he was wearing. For a moment, lust made me forget what I was saying.

  But the moment was brief when he jammed a piece of cloth into my mouth, grabbed my shoulder, turned me away from him, wrapped the cloth around my head, and began to tie it. I reached up to grab it when he yanked back on it.

  “If you touch it, I will tie your goddamn hands,” he warned me in a low voice.

  Whoever this was, it was not Wilder. I didn’t recognize this man impersonating him. Wilder was a jerk, but only to me. He was a computer nerd, albeit a sexy one. He lived in a fancy house and drove an expensive car. He loved his mom and lived on the right side of the law.

  The cruel, unhinged guy who had just gagged me was not Wilder Jones. Although he looked just like him and smelled like him. And he seemed to hate me as much as him.

  I sank back against the seat, leaving the fabric he’d tied around my head in my mouth. He wasn’t going to explain. I could trust him, couldn’t I? I mean, he hated me, but would he do something bad to me? He’d said he was saving me. I didn’t see how this was saving me, but okay. He was Sarah’s dad. He loved her. She loved me.

  In his voice messages, he had sounded frantic. Worried. Actually terrified. He had been scared someone was going to get me. He warned me not to leave the house. Begged me not to leave the house, was more like it. All those things meant I was not being kidnapped to be sold into the sex trade or something equally horrible.

  I had to trust Wilder. Assuming he wasn’t mentally insane and no one knew it.

  The SUV pulled through the entrance of the Shephards’ ranch. I’d been here many times when I had dated Sebastian. I knew exactly where we were, but why were we here? Did this have to do with the dark, illegal things that I had heard this family was involved in? If so, why was I a part of it? UGH! So many questions, and if I took this stupid gag off to ask any, he’d tie my hands, and that would be terribly uncomfortable.

  The driver didn’t go toward the house, but took a dirt road out behind the stables that went on for another mile. I’d never been back here. This was new for me. I looked at Wilder, wishing he’d say something. Tell me what was going on. He didn’t even acknowledge me. Damn him.

  Finally, the SUV came to a stop near the foot of the mountain that backed up to the Shephards’ property. Wilder opened the door on his side and climbed out, leaving me sitting there. I watched as someone walked around the edge of the rock in front of us, and Wilder spoke to them. I couldn’t see who it was, only the back of someone’s head. The driver opened his door and got out, leaving me alone.

  Wilder turned his attention back to the SUV, then said something before making his way to my side of the vehicle. He yanked my door open and held out his hand to me. “Get out.”

  I glared at his hand, then back at him. He wanted me to get out in the woods behind the Shephards’ ranch? Dressed in a towel and his leather jacket? And I was barefoot.

  “Man, you gagged her? What the fuck is wrong with you?” King Salazar asked, stepping up beside Wilder.

  My gaze swung to him, then back to Wilder. King was out here. He was a Salazar. This was the Shephards’ property. All we were missing now was a Kingston. My heart rate sped up. I’d thought I was safe with Wilder, but if this involved the others, that meant it had to do with the illegal things that they might or might not do.

  “She wouldn’t shut up,” Wilder told him.

  “It’s Oakley. Jesus, you’re ending up as fucked in the head as Thatcher,” he grumbled, shaking his head. “Come on, Oak. I’ll take that off you.”

  I reached up and pulled it down myself. Since I had someone on my side, I felt like my hands were safe from being tied. Sighing in relief, I smiled at King. “Thanks.”

  He nodded. “No problem, sweets. Come on out. We need to get you inside. He’ll chill out once you’re safe.”

  Inside? We were in the middle of the woods.

  “Uh …” I looked down at my feet.

  “Shit. You’re barefoot,” he said, stepping toward me. “Can’t hurt those pretty feet. Come here.”

  Wilder moved then, stepping in front of him with a scowl. “Move,” he grunted, then grabbed me, picking me up and carrying me like a bride over the threshold. At least this time, I wasn’t slung over his shoulder.

  He didn’t look at me as we walked over to the rock and then around to the side of it. Once we were close, I saw it. The door hidden by moss. He pressed a code into the keypad, then opened it before stepping inside with me. The moment we were through the door, he set me down. My feet hit cool, smooth rock.

  “You got this? I need to get to the main house and check on things,” King asked from the doorway.

  “Yeah,” was all Wilder said in response.

  King winked at me, then closed the door. A loud click, followed by the sound of a bolt sliding into place, was the only sound in the quiet space. I turned to look down the tunnel and saw light and … a rug?

  “Go on,” Wilder said behind me.

  I was curious enough that I didn’t argue and walked the small distance to the opening. Pausing, I took in the large, open space. A sofa, recliner, twin bed, and a coffee table, three different floor lamps and an area rug filled the left side of the space. A kitchen, complete with a small table for two, filled the right side. There was an arched doorway straight ahead, and although it was dark inside there, I could make out a toilet. On the opposite wall was a set of barn doors.

  Was there a bedroom in there?

  “Wilder, what is this?” I asked, still trying to make sense of the fact that I was inside a mountain.

  “A safe house,” he replied. “I’ll get you something to put on.”

  He walked over to the bed and squatted down to pull out a drawer underneath it. I watched as he dug around and finally pulled out what appeared to be sweats and a hoodie. Both were going to be too big on me, but anything was better than what I currently had on my body. It would also be warm, and I was covered from head to toe in chill bumps.

  He stood up and brought me the clothing. “Bathroom is in there. No door, but when you get inside, there is a lamp to your right. Turn it on, and you’ll see a curtain you can untie and use for privacy.”

  I took the clothes from him. “Are you going to tell me what is going on?” I asked him.

  He sighed, then nodded. “Yeah. First”—he waved at me—“just get some clothes on.”

  I looked down at the clothes. “Yeah, okay.”

  II

  “Though lovers be lost, love shall not; And death shall have no dominion.”

  —Dylan Thomas

  Twenty-Four

  Wilder

  The adrenaline pumping through my veins hadn’t eased. Even with Sarah, my mom, and Porter in my house in Florida with Huck Kingston standing guard and Oakley hidden in this damn mountain with me, the drive to protect was still hammering in my head. My heart rate had slowed, but only slightly.

  When the curtain dropped over the bathroom entrance, I leaned forward and grabbed my knees and took a deep breath.

  She was alive.

  She hadn’t answered her phone. During that flight to Georgia, I’d imagined her dead, and fear formed into an entirely different monster. I became someone I didn’t recognize. I wanted to kill. Murder. Hunt down the bastard who had taken her from me and torture them while I took their life.

  That man I’d become began to morph me into a person I never had been before.

  Then, I had burst into her house, and she was there. Staring at me like I had lost my mind. The rush of pure fucking relief that hit me was fierce. If I hadn’t still been riding the tails of danger, I would have fallen to my knees—they had gone so damn weak. She had been talking, demanding answers, mouthing off at me, and alive. She was alive.

  Straightening, I composed myself before she walked back in here, wearing the baggiest shit I could find her. If we were going to be locked up in here together until that fucker was found, then I needed to do something to lessen the temptation.

  Stepping over to the sliding barn door that shut off the computer system and satellite connection we kept locked way in here, along with the main cyber infiltration equipment, I slid it open and connected the secure phone line to the main house, which was where Thatcher and King were meeting with the others. My father being one of them.

  I picked it up and waited. They would hear the beeping alarm in the office and answer me. It was set up for when I had to work out here while they did the dirty work. Rarely had we used the safe house for keeping someone alive. This was a first. At least for me.

  “Car exploded,” Thatcher said when he answered.

  “I want him dead,” I replied, gripping the phone as rage pounded in my veins.

  “That’s a given. We all do. Finding the bastard is the priority.”

  All their families had been threatened. Not just mine. Whoever this man was, he was begging us to find him and end his life.

  “Is there a lead?” I asked, needing to know we were close to ending this.

  “Maybe. We got Oak’s phone. There is something of interest. I’ll be down later to explain and have you run a number.”

  “Her phone?” I asked, not sure I understood how Oakley’s phone had anything to do with this.

  Had he been tracking her? My chest clenched tightly, and my stomach felt sick at the thought that I’d sent her home a few nights ago at almost midnight to drive alone. He could have gotten her then. I was going to be ill.

  “I gotta go. Boss is calling in. I’ll be down soon.”

  He hung up, and I slowly placed the phone back in its cradle.

  “So, there’s a massive hidden computer thingy in there. I was hoping for a private bedroom,” Oakley said.

  I turned around to see her standing there with a gray sweat suit that she had rolled up at the ankles and wrists. She was still the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. Didn’t matter what the hell I gave her to cover up her body.

  What was on her damn phone? I wanted to ask her, but I refrained. She’d been through enough already today, and I had to tell her more shit that was going to be upsetting.

  “Sit down,” I said, nodding my head to the sofa.

  She crossed her arms over her chest and cocked one blonde eyebrow at me. “Uh, no. You don’t tell me what to do anymore. That part of this experience is over.”

  Great, she was going to be sassy and difficult.

  Fine. She could stand.

  “Your car exploded. It’s gone. There was a bomb in it. The moment you cranked it, you would have been killed.” I stopped talking as her face paled. I shouldn’t have told her that way.

  Her arms fell to her sides as she stared at me. “My … my car? Had a bomb? Why? Who did I make so angry?” Her words came out in a whisper.

  “Can you sit down? Please,” I asked for my sake more than hers. She could pass out on me and hit her head, and I wasn’t sure I could take any more stress.

  She nodded and walked over to the recliner and sat down stiffly.

  “You didn’t do anything,” I told her. “You were targeted because of me. Just like Sarah and my mom and Porter were.”

  Her head snapped up. “You said Sarah was okay!” Her color was back as she stared up at me with a wild look in her eyes.

  “She is,” I assured her. “Oakley, if my daughter was hurt or in danger, would I be this calm?”

  Her shoulders lifted and fell as she took a deep breath. “No, you wouldn’t. But, Wilder, what did you do? Who would go after us because of you? And why me?” She shrugged. “I mean, I am assuming someone came after people you care about to get to you, but I don’t fit into that category.

  I started to correct her but decided with us being stuck down here, it was best she didn’t know how off she was about how I felt about her. Hell, I hadn’t known how deep those feelings went until I knew she was in danger. There was clearly no mental line I could draw to get my emotions in check with her.

  “Sarah loves you. If something happens to you, my daughter would be devastated.” That was the truth.

  Sarah had survived losing her mom, but I wasn’t sure she could do the same if something happened to Oakley.

  Oakley nodded as if that made sense. “But who is trying to hurt you through the people you care about?” she asked.

  I had already been given the permission from Blaise to tell Oakley the truth about us. He said now that her life was in danger because of her connection to me, she deserved to know. I knew she had some ideas of what our families were involved in, but she’d never been told anything. She knew the rumors the rest of the town did.

  “The Kingstons, Salazars, Shephards, and Jones are connected, but you already know that. What you don’t know is how exactly—other than horse racing and friendship.” I paused and held her gaze as she stared up at me.

  Her hands fisted in her lap, and her body tensed, as if she was prepared to bolt at any moment.

  “Our families are part of the Southern Mafia. Have been for almost a hundred years,” I said, then stopped and let that sink in.

  Her eyes widened, but she said nothing.

  I decided to continue, “My degree was chosen for me because it was the best way I could help within the ranks. I’m not emotionless and lethal, like Thatcher, and I can’t charm a room, like King. But I can break into anything in the cyber world that the family needs me to. That’s what this is behind me. This is where we keep our database of enemies’ secure—or what was secure before I hacked into it—phone lines, security systems, and even financial information.”

  Oakley shot up and put her hands on her stomach. “I feel like I can’t breathe,” she gasped. “This isn’t real. This can’t be real.”

  “Oakley, you’re safe. This is okay. Everyone has been secured, and no one is going to be hurt. Except the bastard who is behind this.”

  Her blue eyes swung back in my direction. “But what about you? Are you safe? You can’t die,” she blurted, and then her face flushed. “Sarah can’t lose you.”

  I had to look away from her face. When I let those eyes lock with mine for too long, everything I knew about her didn’t seem to matter. I just wanted her.

  “She won’t lose me,” I replied and started toward the kitchen area. “Are you thirsty?” I asked her.

  She let out a laugh, and I turned back to her.

  “You just told me that you’re in the Mafia, and now, you want to know if I’m thirsty?” she asked me, sounding amused and slightly hysterical.

  “I need a drink,” I said, jerking open the fridge to get out a beer.

  “Oh God,” she gasped. “Hamilton. He will be going to my house soon. The car … exploded. I assume there are police there? What about my dad? He will be notified. Do people know I’m alive?”

  I closed the door to the fridge and turned back around as I opened my can. “Your car was removed from the property, taken to private and secure land, and the bomb was then detonated safely—for those handling it, not for your car. It’s gone. Your door will be fixed and closed by the time your boyfriend arrives. No one will think anything is wrong with you. Your car won’t be there. They’ll assume you went somewhere.”

  “He’s not my boyfriend, and what if it’s not safe for him at my house? What if something else explodes?”

  She was right, and I should give a fuck, but her concern for this guy was grating on my already-exhausted nerves. Why did she care so much? Did she have feelings for him? Had I missed that? Had she fallen in love with this guy, and I didn’t know?

  “I’ll make sure he is safe,” I bit out, wishing like hell my chest didn’t burn like a bitch.

  “Thank you,” she replied.

  “Do you want to call your dad? Will he be looking for you?”

  She shook her head and sat back down in the recliner. “No. He hasn’t called me since …” She trailed off.

  The bastard was punishing her because she hadn’t fought me on taking Sarah. She took my side, and he’d shut her out for Cleo’s sake. It hurt her, and, fuck, that pissed me off. She was his daughter. Didn’t he have a heart? He was her only parent.

  “How long will we be in here?” she asked me, lifting her gaze from her hands to look at me.

  I took a drink, then shook my head. “I don’t know. We have to find out who this is first. Then, he has to die.”

  Oakley inhaled sharply. “They’ll kill him?” she whispered.

  “Yes. We will.”

  “That’s hard to imagine,” she said. “At least it was. Until today. I guess it should be easier for me to picture now that I’ve seen that side of you.” A small smile touched her lips, but her eyes still looked worried. “You were kinda frightening.”

  “I thought you were dead. I got there in time, and I was determined to keep you alive.”