Whatever It Takes (Code Of Honor Book 5) Page 3

  “Do me a favor and think about it. Just a few more.”

  “I will,” he said. “Remember, there’s no way in hell they can get past the ranch borders without us knowing. Paul hired extra men to guard the fence line.”

  Paul Falcon was head of his ranch security. The ex-marine was sharp and ran a tight ship.

  “Whoever this was shot down a helicopter.”

  “Correction, tried to shoot down. We didn’t technically crash,” Luke murmured, and he could almost hear Liam’s teeth gnashing.

  “Pain in my ass.”

  He laughed, and the sound drew his Blue Heeler from her sleep. She stood and came over wagging her tail and he scratched softly behind her ear.

  “Did you check out the Senator?”

  “Yeah, Van Vorst is a dead end,” Liam grumbled. “He knew Zane and Isaac witnessed the murder, but he thinks it’s the LAPD who took him down.”

  “Good. So, what’s the good news?”

  “I don’t have any,” Liam grumbled.

  “You said you did.”

  “It was an expression.”

  Luke snorted.

  “I don’t know how valid this is, but I heard that Kevin Monterey is appealing his bail decision,” Liam added.

  “That’ll take two weeks after it’s logged with the Supreme Court. I’ll call Michael, he’ll know for sure.”

  “If Monterey gets out, we’ll have to rethink our strategy,” Liam said.

  “He denied having anything to do with my attack.” He ran his fingers through his hair, smoothing where it had ruffled from the slight wind.

  “Yeah,” Liam agreed. “I don’t know if I buy that.”

  “I’m on the fence about Monterey being involved. Regardless, I have enough protection on the ranch.”

  “You won’t always be there at the ranch,” his friend reminded him of his upcoming trip to the city.

  Not that he’d be staying long in California, just long enough to take care of some business. He’d be back here in a matter of a day or two.

  He gazed out over the land that his great-grandfather, Larson Rhine, had bought and built a life on. It had been passed down to his grandfather, Leonard Rhine, his father, Larson Rhine II, and then to him.

  He smiled remembering the look on Dillon’s face when he had suggested coming here. Dillon’s blue eyes had shone at the mention of the ranch, and the soldier had thrived when they’d arrived. The past month had flown by and Luke had enjoyed every minute of it. While Dillon remained unapproachable, Luke had made it his mission to get the guy to relax and open up. The relaxing part had somewhat worked. The opening up, not so much, but he was still hoping for progress.

  Even though they only housed a few horses, some cattle, and a smattering of smaller animals, his ranch manager had been thrilled with the help from Dillon. Of course, watching Dillon move around the ranch in dusty cowboy boots, low riding jeans, and no shirt had been an added bonus.

  “Luke?”

  Liam’s voice snapped him out of his fantasy. “Sorry!” He coughed. “Was just thinking.”

  “What about?”

  “I was thinking about the meeting I have to attend this afternoon and the route I’ll need to take,” he deflected. Yeah, okay, he lied, but he wasn’t ready to talk to Liam about Dillon. Things between them could turn out to be nothing, so it was better to keep his interest as quiet as possible. Especially since it wasn’t returned.

  “Don’t worry about the route. Fury will cover you from your house to the meeting.”

  Fury consisted of three elite Army Special Forces soldiers, Spencer, Eagle, and Link. He wanted to argue about the extra protection in the city. Even though it wasn’t his fault that some diabolical idiot had taken a pot shot at his helicopter, he still felt guilty.

  On the other hand, the whole damned thing could have been about someone else.

  “It could have been Dave they were after,” he reminded Liam.

  “Why shoot at you then?”

  “Get me to get to him.”

  “Maybe,” Liam murmured.

  “Fury escorting me to my office building is a lot of wasted manpower,” he tried again.

  “The hell it is! Dave and I both want you protected to the max.”

  “Okay, I give up.” It warmed his heart they’d move heaven and earth to keep him safe.

  “Bout time.”

  “Infinity and Fury will protect me when I reach the city.” He had soothed Liam’s agitation and changed the subject. “How’re you and Spencer doing?”

  “Fantastic.” Luke heard the smile in Liam’s voice when he spoke of his fiancé, Captain Spencer Turner.

  “Is he staying on with Fury?”

  “Yes, so don’t be making his job difficult or I’ll kick your ass.”

  A bark of laughter left him. “Well, I wouldn’t want that.”

  Liam grunted, “What time are you leaving?”

  He glanced at his watch. “In a few hours, but I think you already know that.”

  “I do. Don’t forget to text me when you reach California.”

  “Won’t Dillon do that too?” he asked since he was sure Dillon told Liam everything.

  “Smart ass.” Liam snorted. “I think Dillon is going to ask to be reassigned.”

  “Why?”

  “Just a gut feeling. You okay with someone else?”

  Hell no, he wasn’t okay with someone else!

  “I guess.”

  They talked a few more minutes and then Liam rang off.

  His mind reeled. Was it that bad here? He’d tried like hell to make Dillon comfortable. Obviously, he’d failed.

  Luke pulled his own cell phone from his pocket and sent a text message to Dave.

  Luke: All set for California.

  S.O.D.: I’m glad you decided to see reason about that at least! Think about at the ranch too.

  Luke snorted and then Dillon’s locked screen flashed, catching his attention. The picture of a brown and white shaggy dog graced the front. The pup’s tongue was lolling out with an expression of adoration for whomever had taken the picture. He suspected it had been Dillon.

  Collecting the coffee mugs, he returned to the coolness of the house. Even in the early morning, the Arizona sun of early August was hot. The day promised to rise into the lower hundreds. California weather was looking more attractive by the minute, but he knew Dillon wasn’t pleased about going back. That was one thing in his corner, he had the ranch and the soldier loved the ranch.

  That thought made him smile as he moved down the hallway and knocked on Dillon’s slightly ajar bedroom door.

  “I put your cell phone on the hall table,” he called through the opening. For some reason, Dillon never fully closed his bedroom door.

  “Yeah, okay,” came the short reply.

  With a sigh, he continued to his room. He didn’t want anyone but Dillon watching his back.

  That’s not the only thing, and you know it.

  “Forget about it,” he muttered, entering his own room and closing the door.

  Dillon hadn’t given any indication that his attraction was mutual, and it sucked. He knew for a fact Dillon was gay and single, because during their last trip to California, he’d overheard Oliver teasing Dillon about his last Grindr hookup.

  Yeah, he’d stooped that low, resorting to eavesdropping.

  The bummer was that Dillon was going to ask Liam to be reassigned, and he’d spent the past week wracking his brain trying to find the perfect thing to say to keep Dillon there with him.

  His phone buzzed with a call from an unknown number. He rarely answered his phone when that happened, but he did so only to find silence on the other end. He pulled the phone back from his ear and it clearly showed the call was connected. Shrugging, he ended the call and tossed the phone on the bed.

  Immediately, his thoughts went back to Dillon. Perhaps, he’d tell Dillon about Monterey appealing his bail decision. That might be the perfect way to get Dillon to stay. Sighing, he toss
ed away the thought. He had no right to guilt Dillon into staying. Besides, he wasn’t that guy. Just the thought of doing that churned his gut.

  Crap. He headed into the bathroom. It was probably better to cut his losses. All of his light flirting had been ignored. It was clear Dillon wasn’t interested in dating an older man like him.

  Stopping at the medicine cabinet, he shook out his daily dose of meds. One white and one pink pill, and tossed them back with the bottled water sitting on the sink.

  He caught his reflection in the large mirror over the dual sinks and studied the lines in his face before smoothing his fingers over his mustache.

  “You could just be his friend,” he told his reflection.

  He rubbed at his chest and grimaced. He wanted Dillon as more than a friend, and knew in his heart he couldn’t keep it casual when he wanted so much more.

  “Do the right thing.” He held his own gaze in the mirror before he turned away.

  Let him go.

  Dillon

  He shoved clothes into his duffle bag and checked his phone again.

  Isaac hadn’t returned his call.

  Punching in the number to the house, he waited. She answered on the second ring.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, Mom.”

  “Dillon!” Her voice filled with happiness that warmed his chest. She coughed and he waited until she caught her breath.

  “How’d your week go? How are you feeling?”

  “Everything is fine. They came and put in the new hot water heater. But honey, I would have gotten this one repaired.”

  “It’s better with a new one.”

  “Thank you,” she whispered, and he heard the worry in her voice. She worried about his finances.

  “It’s no problem, mom.”

  “Have you heard from Isaac?” Her voice sounded hopeful.

  “Not in a while.”

  “Oh.”

  He didn’t ask if she’d heard from his brother. Isaac never called her.

  He changed the subject, not wanting her stressed.

  “I should be back at my apartment soon.”

  “Oh? How long is this mission?”

  “I don’t know, but I want to be reassigned,” he sighed. A noise in the hallway drew him toward the partially opened door and he glanced out to find the hallway empty.

  “What’s the matter?” Somehow, his mother always knew.

  “I’m not sure,” he said, because it was true. He wasn’t sure.

  “Okay, sweetheart, do what you need to do to fix whatever it is. I love you,” she said.

  “Love you too.”

  He did love her, fiercely. She hadn’t always been there for him growing up, but he’d figured his shit out and had patched up his relationship with her.

  Heading down the stairs, he left his overnight bag in the front room. They still had an hour before they needed to leave. Reaching the kitchen door, he stepped into the massive room.

  “Something smells good.” He made his way to where Marge stood by the stove.

  “I’m making muffins. Come back in ten minutes.” She smiled, wiping her hands on a dish towel.

  “I will.” He snatched up a piece of bacon from the cooling rack.

  She swatted teasingly at his hand. She couldn’t have been more than five feet tall, if that. With her fuzzy white hair in a bun at the top of her head and a red apron around her ample waist, she reminded him of Mrs. Claus. He leaned down and placed a kiss on her cheek.

  “Oh, shoo you,” she scolded with a tittering laugh. “And feed the dogs if you’re going out back.”

  “Yes ma’am,” he grinned.

  Heading out the back door and out onto the back porch, he filled the dog food bowls for the three Blue Heelers. They were happy to see him and wiggled around his legs as he scooped the food into their bowls. Their exuberant natures reminded him of Cricket.

  His one-year-old rescue Shih Tzu was missing him like crazy, and the Skype calls that he got from his neighbor—who was caring for Cricket—wasn’t enough for him or his pup.

  His phone buzzed and he pulled it out. Liam’s name flashed on the screen.

  “Sir?”

  “You were right, Luke won’t take extra help.”

  “Maybe he doesn’t think the threat is high enough. It’s been over a month with no incidents.”

  “Kevin Monterey is challenging his bail.”

  “Fuck.”

  “Yeah. So, on the off-chance Monterey is the guy, we’re not taking any chances. You’ll have Oliver and Pia when you land at the estate. Fury will meet you there and escort you to the meeting.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Call me when you land.” The colonel ended the call and Dillon ran his hand over each dog’s soft head and watched them eat for a few minutes. They’d put a tail on Monterey if he was released on bail. No way in hell would the man get anywhere near Luke.

  Angry words came from around the front of the house and he tossed the scooper back into the plastic bin and hurried around the side.

  No way in hell would a stranger get on this land without him being notified by ranch security.

  But one could never be too careful.

  Pulling the gun he wore tucked into his ankle holster, he slipped in between the ranch house and the paddock fence before he spotted Luke on the front porch deck with his stepson.

  He’d done an in-depth background check on Eric Metzler before he even stepped foot on the ranch. Dillon hadn’t personally spoken to the prick in the time he’d been on Luke’s protection detail, but according to Eric’s background check, the guy was a leech. Seeing him here had Dillon’s blood pressure spiking.

  He stopped so abruptly, his boots kicked up dirt. Instead of approaching the porch, he tucked his weapon away and stayed near the corral fence, in full view.

  The argument had turned low and while he couldn’t hear the exact words, there was no mistaking the heat behind them.

  Luke stepped back from Eric, but the guy gripped his stepfather’s arm. Luke stopped and shook his head. Angrily, Eric tossed Luke’s arm away and stalked from the porch. Luke called out, but Eric kept going.

  A wobble hit Eric’s stride when he caught sight of him, and the guy’s eyes went wide.

  That’s right, you son of a bitch, keep walking. Dillon made no secret he was tracking the guy’s movements.

  Eric nervously licked his lips, eyes darting anywhere but at him. Hurrying to his car, Eric slid behind the wheel. Where the fuck was the little twerp’s protection detail? Dust and rocks kicked up, sending a spray into the air when the tires spun. The car swerved before righting itself and barreling down the ranch road.

  Luke sank back into his chair and picked up the mug that was sitting on the small table.

  Sympathy almost drew him toward where Luke sat, but he turned around and went back the way he’d come.

  He wasn’t going to get involved with whatever the hell was going on between Luke and his stepson. Even though every protective urge in his gut wanted to knock the fucker out. It was none of his goddamned business, he reminded himself for the hundredth time.

  He made it back inside via the back door and into the kitchen.

  “Is he gone?” Marge’s lips were tight.

  “Yeah.”

  “I hate when he upsets the general.”

  She handed him a muffin fresh from the oven and let the subject drop.

  He managed to kill an hour back in his room before he made his way down the stairs. He found Luke still on the front porch cradling what must have been cold coffee, a slight droop to his shoulders.

  The man’s head whipped around when he approached.

  “You heard me and Eric?”

  Apparently, Luke had spotted him earlier.

  “No,” he said. It was the truth; he hadn’t heard the exact words of the exchange.

  The man squinted as if he didn’t believe him before pushing to his feet.

  Luke moved closer, searching his eyes wi
th a look that rooted his feet to the floor.

  Jesus…Luke’s eyes were so deep a green, they reminded Dillon of the trees he used to hide in as a kid. The color reminded him of safety.

  “The pilot’s ready.” Luke’s husky words had him galvanizing into action.

  What the fuck was he doing? He took several abrupt steps back.

  “We better hit the road then. We need to check in and let Fury know when we hit the ground,” he said roughly.

  Luke didn’t say another word, he just placed his cup on the small porch table and grabbed a bag Dillon hadn’t seen sitting near his feet.

  Dillon hustled into the house and snatched up his own overnight bag. Marge was there holding out a small cooler packed with—he was sure of—tons of goodies.

  During the chopper ride, he kept his gaze locked on the terrain, trying like hell to forget about what had happened between him and Luke on the porch. While it hadn’t been the first spark of awareness between them, it was definitely the strongest. Fuck. He couldn’t. No, he wouldn’t go there.

  The flight was approximately an hour, but it seemed longer than usual. He jumped down out of the chopper when it landed at the general’s Bel Air estate and squeezed his hands around his semi-automatic rifle as he surveyed the area.

  Dillon turned and held out his hand for Luke. He’d worn his gloves and was denied the feel of the man’s palm when the general gripped his tightly and climbed down.

  Waiting for them, fully armed and geared, Pia and Oliver were camped at the back of the house next to the rear entrance.

  Standing next to them was Infinity’s newest recruit. His Special Forces unit needed a few people to replace Diesel and Elijah. Diesel had retired after blowing out his knee, and Elijah had retired because of love. Not that he blamed the guy. Some people were made for love, and Elijah and Justin fit that bill. Infinity had also had to replace Wolf, who was really irreplaceable, but if anyone could fill those shoes, it was the man standing in the shadows.

  Sergeant Holden Wreck. The guy was one of the best engineers he’d ever seen since Diesel had left the unit. Not to mention, for his size, the guy moved fucking fast. Holden was a force at six foot four inches and two hundred and twenty-five pounds of pure muscle.

  Releasing Luke’s hand, Dillon motioned the general ahead of him. Whipping his head around, he scanned the area as he guarded the general’s back. Sure, they were taking super precautions, but the guy who’d shot at Luke’s helicopter was dangerous and Dillon wouldn’t think twice about shooting him in the head, or any criminal involved.