Stephanie Tyler - Unbreakable

Word was beginning to leak out that Landon’s business was suffering. Add to that the other men that S8 put out of business, traffickers and other businessmen who would normally support Landon, and Jem knew the walls had begun to close in on Landon.

He leaned back and snapped a picture of Drea, the way he’d been doing over the past months. And he fed it into the facial-recognition software.

They’d run tests on Drea for weeks now, with all different programs, and there had never been a hit.

Until now.

When the computer started beeping, he stared at it in surprise. Thankfully, Avery had called Drea away, so she hadn’t noticed, but Key had. Stared over Jem’s shoulder.

“The feds are after her,” Jem told his brother, who gave a low whistle.

“She ever tell you anything about that?”

“No. Don’t know if she even knows,” Jem said. “She’s been honest about everything else and it’s the first time she’s come up in the system. Maybe that asshole ex is using her for an immunity plea?”

“Either way, they’re gonna force her to testify.”

“Dammit.” Jem sighed, because she was definitely a fugitive. It was one thing to have her hiding out from the OA. But the feds were a whole other story, and once they got their hooks into S8 . . .

“She’ll compromise us, yes. But Avery’s not going to care.”

“Avery’s not the only one on the team.”

“Jem, did you stop to think this could actually work in our favor? The guy’s wife is wanted by the feds. If Drea’s face shows up as wanted . . . can’t we just change the information on her?”

Jem could easily change Drea’s name and other details, and he would, but that didn’t change the fact that he hated this plan. “She has a right to know.”

“Agreed. You tell her, and I’ll share with the rest of the group.” Key patted Jem on the back as he walked away, calling, “Hey Drea, Jem needs to talk to you.”

Drea came over to him. She’d taken off the heels since this was only a dress rehearsal for next week. She was already tugging at the dress and he knew she’d be back in her jeans as soon as they’d let her.

For now, Avery was busy taking pictures, building up a portfolio of a life Drea didn’t have.

“What’s wrong?”

“Your face came up on the recognition software.”

“What does that mean, exactly?”

“It means someone put you into the system as wanted.” He pointed to the computer and let the screen do the talking.

“The FBI?” she asked.

“And they don’t see the picture I scanned of you—I made sure of that. You haven’t been caught, but they want you.”

“What did they say I did?” she asked, her eyes wide. “Wait. I know. Dammit.”

Her eyes were troubled. He didn’t push her, thought about how he couldn’t wait until she showered and got all that shit off her face. She’d drop her towel and pull on a T-shirt to sleep in. Then she’d run her hands through her long hair—that was the extent of her beauty routine and she always ended up with hair that looked like something out of a magazine. It amazed him every time that she was so carelessly beautiful.

He’d fallen in love with her, maybe from the second he’d seen her helping a woman most doctors would’ve gone out of their way to avoid. In that split second, he’d known everything he needed to know.

Seemed maybe he didn’t know everything .

Finally, she told him, “It’s the drugs. Morphine mainly. Some Oxy. I never gave it to them—I told Danny they’d take my medical license. But I know the clinic was robbed a few times.”

“So Danny told them they got the drugs from you?” Jem asked.

“He’d do anything to get his ass out of a sling. Especially if it means I sit in jail next to him so he can keep an eye on me.”

“What’s their main source of income?”

She shrugged. “I didn’t get involved in that. I know they did some gun runs. Some drugs, obviously. Maybe some prostitution, but nothing I have any evidence of. Danny made sure I knew just enough to keep me in line and not enough to ever get the club in trouble.”

“I’ll figure something out.”

“In all your spare time?”

“Drea—”

“Jem, you’re going to have to let me go hide somewhere. I mean, this tour of the world’s been great, but sooner or later, you’re all going back to your home base. I can’t compromise what you do.”

And she’d put it together faster than he thought she’d be able to. “Maybe turning myself over to them’s for the best. They can put you in protection.”

“You do not trust that shit, Drea. Trust me—you cannot trust them worth a damn. They will fuck you over to make their case. Use you and spit you out.” He heard his own voice shake with anger. “I’ve seen it. Not pretty. I won’t let that happen to you.”

“Then what, Jem?”

“How about we finish off Landon first, and then we figure out you, okay, baby?”

She nodded, because there wasn’t much choice. They were too far into this to stop now. Landon had more heat on him with each day that passed. His contacts were slowly turning on him. It satisfied S8’s need to help people along with scaring the shit out of Landon. Much more satisfying than a slow kill.

If Landon was trying to send men after them, they weren’t showing up on anyone’s radar.

It would take everything Avery had to stand in front of the computer screen and see Landon again, hear his voice, watch him shake hands with Drea. But for the woman who’d risked so much to help her, she would absolutely do so, despite the fact that Drea herself didn’t want her to.

“Avery, it’s too much, too soon. Let Jem and Gunner watch. You don’t need to do this,” Drea had told her only hours before Jem took her to the meeting place three towns over.

“I’m there. Just remember that while you’re with that bastard. I’m there. We all are,” Avery told her.

Now she watched Jem return, his face grim. He’d had to leave Drea alone in the house—it was too risky otherwise.

“She’s still alone,” Gunner told him. Jem nodded, his face expressionless as he sat down next to Gunner. Grace stood next to Avery behind them. Gunner had left a seat for her, but she didn’t want to distract him or Jem. This was too important. No matter how scared she might be, Landon was on the other end of a computer. Drea was the one dealing with him face-to-face.

“You’re sure he’ll come to the meeting?” Dare asked.

“He always takes the meetings. Always. It’s his MO,” Gunner said. “If he doesn’t, we know we’re made.”

And Drea had a contingency plan for that. All she had to do was hit a button and the entire house would fill with gas. It would knock her out along with Landon and his crew, but it wouldn’t be enough to hurt them. It would give Jem enough time to get back to her.

“Why the hell don’t we just gas and kill them?” Jem asked for the thousandth time, even though he knew the reason well: In case the part of Landon was really being played by two men instead of one.

No one answered Jem, but Key squeezed his brother’s shoulder.

And then the doorbell in Drea’s safe house rang. She went to it and answered the door, looking stylish, but nothing like the pictures they’d taken of her. If she was really a woman on the run, she wouldn’t be dressed to the nines and calling attention to herself.

But Avery knew that rich women always looked elegant, no matter what they were wearing. Drea fit that bill. They’d spent an hour covering up her tattoo sleeve with special makeup, but it was worth it for all of their peace of mind.

She held her breath when she heard Landon’s voice. Her fists clenched when he ordered his men to search the house, and told another one to hold her still for the photo. The man grabbed Drea’s arms and pulled them behind her back and Landon snapped a picture.