Brother's Keeper II_Liam

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  COPYRIGHT

  ALSO BY STEPHANIE ST. KLAIRE

  FOR MORE ON STEPHANIE

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20

  CHAPTER 21

  CHAPTER 22

  CHAPTER 23

  CHAPTER 24

  CHAPTER 25

  CHAPTER 26

  EPILOGUE

  ABOUT STEPHANIE ST. KLAIRE

  COPYRIGHT © 2018

  Stephanie St. Klaire

  Brother’s Keeper II: Liam

  Book Two in the Brother’s Keeper Series

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, or other status is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever known, not known or hereafter invented, or stored in any storage or retrieval system, is forbidden and punishable by the fullest extent of the law without written permission of the author.

  EDITOR: Dawn Yacovetta

  COVER ARTIST: Alyssa Garcia – Uplifting Designs

  FORMATTING: The SSK Group

  Also by Stephanie St. Klaire

  Brother’s Keeper Series

  Brother’s Keeper I: Declan

  Brother’s Keeper II: Liam

  Brother’s Keeper III: Luke – Spring 2018

  Brother’s Keeper IV: Dace – Fall 2018

  Brother’s Keeper V: Wylie - 2019

  McKenzie Ridge Series

  Rescued

  Hidden

  Forgotten

  Fearless

  Redemption

  Imperfect Love KW Series

  Liar

  St. Helena Vineyard KW Series

  Sneaking Up On Love

  Fall Fling

  Visit Stephanie St. Klaire on social media for the latest news and updates:

  Join Stephanie’s private Facebook group: SSK Book Krew

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  Parts of this story are very personal to me, even if they are fictionalized...

  When life is hard we have a choice to weather the storm or let it sweep us away...

  I encourage you to always stand strong and weather your storm...

  Grab on to everyone it tosses in your path because they are the people that will dance in the rain with you now, and through every storm after…

  For those who have danced in the rain with me – this is for you…

  For those weathering their own storm – get ready for the rain…

  When you can’t find the joy…be the joy…even in the storm…

  Special thanks to those who helped me bring this book together:

  My sweet family – I love you forever and always…

  My dear friends who had my back on this one – Alyssa and Cary…

  And my loyal readers whose endless support keeps me humble…

  Each one collected in the storm…

  Let’s dance…

  CHAPTER 1

  She was being followed.

  It didn’t surprise her; she expected it, really. Most women wouldn’t go out at such a late hour – alone – because they received a cryptic text message, but Felicity Nichols wasn’t most women. She was smart, savvy, and trained by the best. She was taught to protect herself by any and all means – again, by the best – the O’Reilly brothers.

  She changed her route, testing the idea that someone was after her. Would he or she follow, or was this nothing more than a coincidence? Too bad Felicity didn’t believe in coincidence. She subscribed to following her intuition and that all things are purposeful, not random just because, wrong place at the wrong time bullshit. The minute she left the safe confines of Watermark Tower, she knew it was game on.

  She turned left at the end of the block, followed by another left, careful to stay in a well-lit, populated area until she had the mark on whoever seemed to be trailing her. Though it was late, the area was anything but asleep. In this part of Portland, it was a 24-hour shit show, where old industrial met a new trend of renovated urban living, and the line between the two was grossly blurred from street corner to street corner.

  Unlike her waterfront residence in a new upscale part of town, this place was a mixed bag of families and vagrants – some fallen on hard times, some up to no good. Even with a strong police presence, there was no comfort as she continued on. Felicity had to keep moving and push everything else aside since her past – one that she thought had been dead and buried – requested a meeting. Demanded rather.

  Watching the reflection cast on the row of store front windows, it was confirmed – she was being tailed. By a man, or so the broad shoulders and long stride confirmed along with the bulkier swagger her new shadow suggested. His head was down, his face camouflaged by a billed hat – not that the dimly lit street lamps would reveal a face through the reflection anyway.

  Never assume, she reminded herself. Your assailant should never be guessed or underestimated. That had been lesson one in her training, meaning this could be a woman. Albeit, a rather large, masculine woman. It didn’t matter though – if it was a woman, she’d kick her ass too.

  Picking up her pace, Felicity lured her stalker to the edge of the city life, to a quieter part of town, where there were fewer people out in the open and more lurking in the shadows. The streets were dimmer, the alleys darker – and there were plenty to disappear into. This had been a set up. A trap. Revenge. Tall-Dark-and-Mysterious was sent as the finisher – plot twist – she was the finisher. She was setting up her own trap for revenge.

  With nearly an entire city block lead, she veered a quick left into a long dark alley that was plenty quiet. Lined on both sides with dumpsters, old, broken-down furniture and debris, it hosted the perfect stage for what was about to unfold. Out of sight, Felicity fell into a brisk jog before ducking into the dark recessed doorway of an old, brick building, completely camouflaged by the inky shadows of the night’s sky.

  Then she waited. With her eyes closed, she calmed her breathing and clung to the senses that would alert her to her predator’s presence. Felicity pushed down the panic trying to spill over and consume her. She would reconcile the what, how, and why, when the threat pursuing her was in check. Right now, in this moment, she needed to fight. Take down her would-be assailant. Ask questions later.

  Felicity stopped being a victim years ago and committed to being a full-time badass when she was forced to engage in criminal activity guised as a real nine-to-five gig. She was a tech savvy girl, naïve and unknowingly hacking into some of the world’s biggest financial institutions and tapping accounts belonging to some of the richest and most powerful people one could cross hairs with.

  Hired to test cyber security, or so she thought, Felicity fell for the very scheme she had been engaged in. Rather than hacking in to expose cyber weaknesses with benign consequences, she was funneling money into offshore accounts instead. When she hacked her employer and realized she had been stealing for him rather than faux stealing, she threatened to expose him. Naïve.

  Rather than ass
uming the title of felon in a federal prison, she was hired by the group that finally busted her. The O’Reillys. She was good at what she did, too good to waste in a prison – especially since it wasn’t of her own volition but that of blackmail. She was working to save her mom and sister who were held captive until Felicity finished what she started.

  It wasn’t clear how the O’Reillys got to keep her rather than hand her over to the Feds, but it didn’t matter much to her. She lost her family in the deal – they didn’t make it out. The O’Reillys became her family and would have her ass if they knew that she was about to go toe to toe with the past they saved her from.

  Those memories were quickly suppressed as the mundane sounds of the city were muffled by the approaching footsteps and whispered mumbles. He was getting closer, and she was ready, more than ready. Nerves turned to an unwavering drive fueled by years of built up angst and rage.

  The man stilled at the sound of a hissing cat and tipping trash can. What a Cliché, she thought. How ironic that her stalker stood only feet from her, where she now stalked him completely undetected. Either she was really good at this, or he really sucked. Reminding herself who she was and that she was trained by the best there was an amplified sense of confidence she hadn’t had the chance to exercise. Until now.

  When he moved on, distracted by whatever was on his watch, she stepped out from the shadows, matching him step for step as stealthily as she could. Timing was everything. It was the key to either falling victim or heroic badassery, and victim was no longer in her vocabulary.

  In one swift move, Felicity delivered a sharp kick between the man’s legs while he was in between steps, offering the element of surprise that would lend her the upper hand. It also paralyzed his ability to fight back while she took him down.

  A grunt escaped him as she landed a knee to his side. He was hunched over with one hand on his side and one cupping his goods. Sliding around him, her tight fist met his jaw, sending his head the opposite direction where his face then met her knee, sending the glasses he was wearing across the dark alley. He’s wearing glasses? Odd, she thought. Not that there was a rule about bad guys and corrective eyewear - it just seemed like a liability. Like it just had been.

  The sound of flesh hitting flesh and cracking of either bones or joints left her feeling bold. Dropping her elbow to the center of his exposed back forced the man to his knees. This was easy – too easy – he wasn’t fighting back. At all. It started to mess with her head. He was at least a foot taller and had one hundred pounds on her, all muscle, given the firm meeting her fist made with each blow.

  She continued to fight, though her motivation was shifting. Now she was afraid. It almost felt desperate. Something was off. Was this part of the set up? Stalling to take in her surroundings after provoking a man twice her size wasn’t the answer. The building panic wasn’t either.

  Sure, she was disabling him, hurting him even, but he wasn’t going down. Not as hard as she had hoped anyway, and she was getting tired. The fact that he wasn’t fighting back spoke volumes – he was waiting her out. Fear took over. She couldn’t let him up because running would be her only option, and she was done running.

  “Not today, you son-of-a…” she yelled, landing fist after fist on her target. “You followed the wrong…bitch.”

  Bitch was said softly and lacked the dramatics she was going for. She wasn’t one to swear, so it fell from her mouth with less conviction than she hoped for. An odd grunt escaped the man, something of a snort. Had he just laughed at her?

  “You think this is funny?” she fired, “You like getting your – your ass kicked by a girl? Next time you’ll pick on someone your own size, you…buffoon!”

  Another snort could be heard, but the flare in her temper it caused was short lived because with her next swing, he blocked her hit. With the next, he grabbed her fist, then the other. In a quick move, he spun her on her heels, pulling her against his body with her arms crossed in front of her. He held her that way with a single hand while the other covered her mouth, dulling her scream.

  It had been a ruse, she thought. He let her wear herself out so she would be easy to take down. Hysteria flooded her to the point she couldn’t think straight. Struggling against his embrace was pointless; he had her despite stomping on his feet and tossing her head back. She was too short and only made contact with his chest, which hurt her more than him.

  Breathing became harder as her body gave in to the panic coursing through her. She knew who sent him and what he was capable of. This was the end of her. She could feel it in his tight grip. Afraid to lose consciousness, she halted the struggle, giving in to his hold while she collected herself and decided what her next move was. If there was a next move.

  What had she done? Why had she given in to temptation and left the safety of Watermark Tower to chase a ghost? She should have told someone what was going on, that she had been contacted. Nobody knew, which meant they wouldn’t know where to look for her when they finally discovered she was missing. It would be late morning before anyone became suspicious. She didn’t know whether she had that long.

  Confidence came with learning to protect herself, or so she thought. Now she realized that it was more ego than confidence. The man who held her was strong, he felt like a brick wall behind her. What had she been thinking? Of course, he would overpower her. He outsmarted her too.

  All she tried to do was protect those she cared about most. Keep this as far away from them as she could. Felicity couldn’t deal with another loss at the hands of the madman behind her current plight. It all backfired as life tended to do for her.

  Scared. That summed it up. She was scared. Her plan didn’t go beyond ducking into a dark alley in a seedy part of town and kicking some guy’s ass. What she did know was the terror that raged within was overwhelming.

  She was going to die tonight. She could feel it to her core. Given the stiff ridge she felt sharply poised against her back, she had to assume it wouldn’t be quick and painless. That he was going to have his way with her first.

  Her stomach rolled as the bile rose to her throat at the thought of what was to come – what she had done – and how it was all going to end. A single tear escaped despite trying desperately to conceal the anxiety her realization evoked.

  “Are you about done, Felicity? Or, are we going to go another fucking round?” the man questioned between gritted teeth.

  That voice. She knew it. Her body stiffened and eyes narrowed as awareness washed over her.

  When he released her, she quickly turned to face him. Just as quickly, she landed one more heavy fist to his eye in a heated fury.

  “Liam.”

  CHAPTER 2

  “What the hell, Felicity?” He asked, gripping his battered jaw, covered in day old scruff. Liam was as clean cut and ironed jeans as they came. If he hadn’t shaved, it was because he had been deep in the innerwebs, pulling long nights or even all-nighters in an attempt to keep the world safe, one computer hack at a time. He spent most of his time behind a wall of screens, hugging a keyboard. It was easier than facing real life – for Liam.

  Still rattled from the encounter and what she thought was impending death, Felicity struggled to respond with anything but truth. A truth she wasn’t willing to share – at least not yet.

  “Wh-what the hell to you, Liam?” She fired back, cringing at her own awkward rebuttal.

  Liam’s brow raised in a furrow of confusion, finding her response just as floundering as she had, “Seriously? What are you doing out here this late? Alone?”

  Straightening her shoulders, she tossed her long blond hair over her shoulder and raised her chin in a faux confidence. “Wh-why were you following me? That’s what I would like to know. Are you stalking me?”

  Her attempt at offense was lacking. He could tell she was reeling, trying to spin the tables on him. “Because it’s after midnight, and you’re sneaking out to venture to the – the wrong side of the tracks. Why?”

  “Wrong
side of the tracks?” she questioned with a guffaw. “A bit judgy there, wouldn’t you say?”

  “Why are you answering all of my questions with a question, Felicity?”

  “Why are you asking so many questions, Liam?”

  “Because you have been sneaking out late at night, getting into the office late in the mornings, and you’re acting…weird,” he said.

  “Acting weird? Really? Says the guy who is clearly watching my every move. What did I have for breakfast, Detective Do-right?”

  “A scone. From Wired. You also had your usual – a fluffy coffee that’s more sugar than coffee.” His stance fell wide as his arms crossed his broad chest, the brief wince on his face giving her satisfaction.

  “That’s…very specific.”

  “I’m a details guy, Felicity.” His smug look pissed her off.

  “You’re also creepy. How’d you even find me? Or do you just hide outside my front door?”

  Smug grin still intact, Liam extended his wrist, rolling the face of his smart watch toward her, “Same way I track everyone.”

  “Jesus, O’Reilly! Now I really mean it…creepy.”

  With a roll of his eyes, he was determined to stay on track and get to the bottom of what she was up to, despite her attempts to derail his back-alley interrogation. “I track the whole team. In our line of work, you can never be too careful. You know that.”

  “I didn’t realize you tracked us on personal time too.”

  “When late night notifications come through more often than usual, and the recipient is coming and going in response – red flags go up, especially when it’s out of character,” he said. “You have access to sensitive information and help care for my daughter. Of course, I want to know what you’re up to.”

  “Even if it’s a date? A late night…booty call?”

  Liam looked around and snorted. “You’re not dating anyone, and surely this isn’t a booty call.”

  Oh, how this man infuriated her. Felicity narrowed the space between them as she shot him down with her threatening, narrowed stare. “You couldn’t possibly know that, or does your little watch track my love life too?”