Part 3 (2/2)
Glancing toward the deck in search of the crate, he noticed that Becki was not alone. Kurt stared intently at the man now standing with a comforting arm around his niece. He moved quickly toward the couple.
Becki, sensing that something was still not right, walked toward Kurt. ”Are you--”
Before Becki could finish, Kurt grabbed her and shoved her roughly behind him. s.h.i.+elding her with his body, he addressed the stranger, ”Who are you?” Kurt's mind raced. Was he one of them?
Royce stood rigidly a.s.sessing this intruder who dared to touch Becki in such a familiar way. Royce tried to determine whether the intruder was friend or foe, as rage poured through his system. He clinched his fists and fought the urge to knock the other man's teeth out.
Becki squeezed between them shouting, ”What in the world is wrong with you Kurt? This is my friend Royce.”
Kurt frowned. He had not heard of a friend Royce, and that T-s.h.i.+rt looked familiar. Didn't he have one just like it?
”He knows Ryker!” Becki explained quickly, as if that would make Kurt feel better. ”He didn't know the beach house was occupied, so he-uh, stopped by this morning to check on things.”
Kurt relaxed his stance somewhat, and took a couple steps back.
”Royce,” Becki continued, ”This is my uncle, Kurt Rodgers.”
Royce stepped around Becki and offered a hand-shake, ”Royce St. John, pleased to meet you, Sir.”
Accepting the hand offered in greeting, Kurt responded in kind, ”Nice to meet you as well.”
Royce immediately recognized the tattoo on Kurt's forearm; it was identical to the one Ryker's dad carried. Each person in Ryker's old unit wore the same tat, commemorating a team member who had been lost. Hidden in the intricate design was a crest known only to those who worked with the Secret Council. He wore an identical crest, hidden in the sh.e.l.l of a sea turtle inked on his chest, just above his heart.
Picking up his cup of cold coffee, Royce asked, ”Would you like a cup of coffee, sir?”
”No-, uh, no thanks, I came to pick something up,” Kurt said, looking around. ”Has Landon been here already? I called him on my way over.”
Royce became suddenly interested in coffee grounds at the bottom of his cup. And then as luck would have it, his watch began to flash. Oh s.h.i.+t! Sean's timing was spot-on as usual.
Royce quickly covered the flas.h.i.+ng time-piece. While Becki had not noticed anything out of the ordinary, Kurt's sharp eyes did not miss a thing. Becki watched both men curiously.
”Hey Kurt, what happened to your truck?” Landon asked, as he strolled out to join the party from inside the kitchen, coffee cup in hand.
”Landon, you have to stop picking my locks!” Becki complained.
”What? I knocked on my way in,” Landon said, adopting an air of innocence.
The fact of the matter was he had caught the scent of a stranger. When Becki did not immediately answer his knock on the door, he took matters into his own hands. He followed the trail into the kitchen and then picked up Kurt's scent as well. Since he knew things were under control, he stopped to pour himself a cup of coffee before joining the crew outside. Landon frowned as he recognized the s.h.i.+rt Royce was wearing as one that belonged to Kurt. But who was he to make judgments?
Kurt shook his head grumbling, ”Never mind about my truck. It's a long story.”
Landon shrugged, and then sat his cup on the patio table, ”Let's get Becki's crate loaded and see if we can get it opened up.” Landon frowned as he looked around, ”Did you move it already?”
”No, I haven't moved it; that son-of-a-b.i.t.c.h was heavy. I figured you had already been here and moved it.”
”Nope,” Landon said, raising his face slightly to draw in a deep breath through his nose. The only scents he picked up were those of Becki, Kurt, and her visitor.
Royce caught Landon's slight movement, the lifting of his face, the ”sniff”. Evidently he wasn't the only one keeping secrets. As Royce's eyes lingered on Landon, he raised his eyebrows slightly in silent question.
Becki spun around, visually scanning the deck. How had she missed the fact that her crate was gone? ”I can't believe someone would have the nerve to walk right up on my deck and steal it,” she complained.
”I have a hard time believing that myself,” Kurt said, staring hard at Royce. ”That sure is strange,” he mused. ”Doesn't that strike you as strange, Landon?” Kurt pressed, never once taking his eyes off Royce.
Landon, who picked up on Kurt's coded message right away, moved to stand directly behind Kurt.
”How would you explain something like that?” Kurt directed his question to Royce as both men began to steadily advance toward him.
Royce stood and waited; he didn't want to have to fight these two. Although there was no doubt he could kick their collective a.s.ses. He had a trick or two up his sleeve and could cause enough damage to Landon to at least slow him down. He really didn't want to hurt either of them. Becki would most likely be very unhappy with him if he did.
”For Heaven's sake, back off you two,” Becki said as she stepped in front of Royce.
Royce's hands immediately went to Becki's waist to push her gently aside. If Landon was not skilled enough to resist his Wolf's desire to s.h.i.+ft, he did not want Becki to be hurt.
Standing behind Royce now, eyes blazing, she struggled to get back in front of him. ”What the h.e.l.l are you doing?” she asked Royce through jaws locked shut in frustration.
Finally deciding she was not going to get around him, she shouted, ”You all are starting to p.i.s.s me off. You act like I'm sixteen instead of twenty-two. It's Halloween, you idiots; the kids have been pulling pranks all week. I'm sure the stupid box will turn up. What exactly are you accusing him of anyway? And, Royce will you stop pus.h.i.+ng me around!”
”Becki,” Royce intervened smoothly, ”could I ask you to go put my clothes in the dryer?”
Had he lost his mind? Becki sputtered, ”You want me to go put your clothes in the dryer, now? In case you haven't noticed, Landon and my Uncle are--”
”That is a great idea, Becki,” Kurt agreed, interrupting her. ”Go put his clothes in the dryer, please.”
”But--”
”Now,” both men said in unison.
”This is bull s.h.i.+t,” Becki said as she stomped across the deck and flung the patio door open wide. Spinning around to pin the three men with a lethal stare she complained, ”This is total bulls.h.i.+t, and you know it!” She stepped into the kitchen and then slammed the door behind her, the gla.s.s literally rattled in its frame.
If Kurt had to fix her door after this, it would serve him right. Who the h.e.l.l did they think they were, ordering her off her own deck? She flung Royce's wet things in the dryer and then ran a sink full of dish water. She hated was.h.i.+ng dishes by hand, but she was p.i.s.sed right now, and could not sit still.
”How do you know Ryker?” Kurt asked as soon as the patio door slammed shut.
Royce may have him by a good eight inches and probably twenty years, but he had been trained to fight for his life. He also knew Landon's secret. There would be no contest between Landon and the mortal. Unfortunately, that would bring a lot of questions to the surface, questions he would like to avoid.
”I work with him,” Royce answered. ”Well, to be more accurate, he works for me at ART Security.”
Recognition-- and something else-- flared in Kurt's eyes. ART. Royce was part of the Secret Council's team? Why would the Council have someone working in the Charleston area? Kurt's contacts still kept him apprised of any local situations. He had not heard of any activity in the area for a couple of years. Since special Ops guys didn't stay in one place too long, Kurt knew Becki would be in no danger. The two men backed up, and Royce relaxed his stance.
”How long will you be in town?” Kurt asked.
Royce reached for his coffee mug, and emptied the now-cold liquid into a potted banana tree before answering. ”As soon as I get things wrapped up here, I'll be heading back to Asheville.” Glancing toward the kitchen door Becki had just slammed, he continued, ”The sooner the better.”
Kurt had served with Ryker's dad in Bahrain several years ago, and had every intention of calling Ryker Senior the minute he left Becki's. Something didn't feel right. If ”The Council” was involved, it could only mean one thing: danger was near. He knew that Royce would not hurt Becki, but whomever or whatever he was tracking could, and Kurt didn't want Becki anywhere around it.
Kurt nodded and moved toward the back door, ”Landon, I need to get back to work.” With a quick nod to Royce, Kurt added, ”I trust your business here will be concluded quickly. Keep her out of it.”
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