The sound is deafening, cutting through everything, and silencing us in a single heartbeat. The crack ricochets through me, and I gasp. Lucas puts his arm around Wyatt’s waist like a protective band, still holding him back. I almost fall to the ground in relief to see them both standing there. Jesus. He shot at him! Wyatt, instead of slinking back into place, looks like he wants to throttle the guy for daring to pull the trigger, but he lets Lucas hold him back.
“Now that we have your attention,” the leader says.
No kidding. Whoever these guys are, they mean business.
The leader gleams at me, a sparkle in his eye like he gets off on doing this. He bows. “Dakota. I hope you’ve gotten my letters.”
My gaze darts around the men in front of me. The other two rich snobs have twin looks of scared shitless with an armor of puffed-up chests, telling me they want to think they’re in control, but they’re really not. If Lance wasn’t such a good actor, he’d look the same. These wealthy fucks are in way over their heads. They know boardrooms and business deals, but these other three, there’s something way more sinister about them. They’re not afraid to shed blood.
“That was you?” I ask, trying to bide us time until we figure out what to do. What the hell am I saying, I’m trying to bide myself time. Stone double-crossed me. My gut wrenches, but I focus back on what we’re dealing with now. There’s no way on God’s green earth I’m telling these hoodlums the exact location of my father’s safe.
“I know I’m not the best poet, but I hear girls like letters.” He gleams at me, the earrings in his ears catching on the Arizona sun and sparkling. A sickening feeling rolls over me like a riptide.
I shrug. “I’m not like most girls.”
He chuckles, and it somehow sounds more menacing than his regular voice which definitely has the creep factor anyway. “I’ve been watching you,” he says, moving closer. He shakes his head as if he almost doesn’t believe what he’s going to say next. “I like you.”
Stone and Lucas close ranks around me as the guy approaches. I wish I could push Stone away, send him sprawling to his knees where he belongs. After everything he said. After everything he promised.
“Settle down, boys,” the thug says derisively. “I’m not going to hurt Dakota. We won’t hurt anyone as long as we get to leave here with what we want.”
“And what’s that?” I ask, already knowing that what they want, I’m not willing to give them.
The guy is close enough that I can smell his aftershave. His hair is shaved down to a buzzcut. He’d look almost military if he also didn’t look as rough around the edges as he could get. He’s the type who’s hiding a few knives—and probably guns—and knows how to use them. In fact, he might actually be good looking if he wasn’t so scary. When he grins, I expect his incisors to be shaved down to fangs, but they aren’t. He shows me a perfect set of white teeth.
He lifts his hand. Tattoos start there and run up the length of his chiseled arm, disappearing under the sleeve of his shirt and reappearing in flames just above his collar. They reach up his neck, and as he moves, they look alive, flexing with his skin. I shy away as his fingers graze my face, but that only makes him smile wider, so I stand my ground. He brushes his fingers over my cheek. Wyatt curses again, colorful language filling the air around us until he leaps for the guy. One of the leader’s goons intercepts, holding his gun right in Wyatt’s face.
Fuck. The guy wouldn’t accidentally miss if he pulled the trigger this close, and these guys don’t look like they give more than one warning shot.
“It’s fine,” I say, hoping to calm Wyatt, but even I hear the waver in my voice. I’m practically shaking all over, adrenaline coursing through me with a healthy dose of unease picking at me. Five minutes ago, I was praising the fact that Wyatt, Stone, and Lucas had come into my life. But I wasn’t in danger before them, was I? Now look what they dragged me into.
Maybe a boring life is better than a fear-filled one.
“That’s right,” the guy says, voice suspiciously soft. “It’s fine. Now, I just need you to show me wherever this thing is that I need.”
“What thing?”
He grins, and this time, he bares his teeth. “Are you expecting me to believe you guys are just out here for a walk...with a shovel?”
“You never know what you might want to dig up,” I say, my hands turning to fists at my sides. My father’s words echo through me. No one but a Wilder deserves to find the treasure. No one but a Wilder.
“Don’t play me, Dakota,” the guy says, trailing his knuckles down my cheeks once again. His voice is laced with irritation this time. The veins on his neck stick out as his jaw tightens. He’s slowly losing patience, and we definitely don’t want that.
Think, think…
“She needs incentive, boss,” one of his goons says.
Tattooed guy in front of me cocks his head. “Do you need incentive?”
“Need incentive for what? I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”
“Dad,” Stone growls, shooting a look toward his father.
“Shut up,” Lance spits. He watches the situation with a devilish grin, eyes gleaming.
The rich fuckers have congregated behind the thugs now. This is what Stone meant when he said his father was in over his head, I’m sure of it. What he failed to explain was that his father was also trying to help them at the same time too. I guess that’s what people like the Jacobs are all about. Saving their own asses.
Wow, I’m so fucking naive. I might as well be holding a sign
