Deep Trouble: A MacKenzie Family Novella (The MacKenzie Family) Read Free Page A

you’ve got eyes on her until I can get there.”
    “Then I guess I’d better get eyes on her ASAP.” Devon tossed the sheet off his hips, skinning into the pair of jeans he’d left on top of his duffel at the foot of the bed.
    “Thanks, man.” Relief marked his buddy’s words, but Devon didn’t even break stride in the search for his bruised and battered work boots. Everything he did, he did full throttle. Plus, he owed Kellan, and not a little.
    And since Devon’s biggest fuck-up had nearly cost both their lives, the least he could do was get his ass out of bed and prove his worth by looking after the guy’s little sister.
    “No sweat,” Devon said, covering his shrug first with a white T-shirt, then his shoulder holster. Hell, he had a sister, too. As tough as Kellan’s might be, Devon got the guy’s need to look out for his family. “I’m awake, and you need backup. What’s Kylie’s location?”
    Kellan released a slow breath over the phone line. “She stopped at the El Monaco Motel about an hour outside of Grant’s Pass, room 202. She’s driving a red Mustang with California plates. I told her not to open the door for anyone, no matter what.”
    Easy enough. “I’ll head out there, see what I can see.”
    “Thanks, man. I really appreciate it.”
    “You give her a code word so she’ll know I’m a friendly?” The last thing Devon needed was to have Kylie panic—or worse yet, run—in a case of mistaken identity.
    “I wasn’t sure if I’d get you, but tell her you’re there to deliver the jelly donuts. That’s my code word, so she’ll know you’re solid.”
    Under different circumstances, Devon would be tempted to give his buddy a ration of shit over his choice of code words. But they had a job to do, someone to protect, so this shit would have to wait. “Copy that.”
    “Her cell reception’s pretty crappy, but I’ll try her back to let her know you’re coming. And Dev?”
    “Yeah?” he asked, switching to his Bluetooth device so he could use both hands on the job they were meant for.
    “Do me a favor and watch your six, would you?” Kellan asked. “On the off chance Fagan gets lucky enough to find her, he won’t hesitate to hurt her. Or worse.”
    For the first time in ages, Devon let loose with a smile, triple checking the clip in his SIG before turning to get his backup nine millimeter from its hidey hole under the bathroom sink.
    “Trust me, Walker. I’m on my toes. Your sister will be safe with me ’til you get here. I swear it.”
     
    * * * *
     
    The El Monaco Motel turned out to be twenty rooms of stop and fuck about a mile off the highway. After doing a drive-by to give himself a mental map of his surroundings, Devon parked his year-old Dodge Challenger around the back of the place, sinking low in his leather jacket as he walked the perimeter. The motel was a good thirty minutes closer to Surrender than Grant’s Pass, but then again, distance was different all the way out here. The open stretches of land, the way the remote plains and uninhabited landscape unfurled on an endless loop, reminded Devon of a less dusty version of Afghanistan.
    If you move, I will kill your friend .
    “Knock it off,” he muttered, shaking himself back to the here and now. Stepping so his shit-kickers remained silent on the cracked pavement, he scanned the space in front of him from left to right. Two-story motel, ten rooms up top, ten ground level. Points of entry open to either an outdoor walkway or the front parking lot itself. Six vehicles in the lot beneath the blue neon sign boasting rooms for the night or by the hour, three pickup trucks, a newer-looking SUV, a rust-encrusted Toyota…
    And what do you know? A red Mustang with California plates.
    “Hmmm.” Devon moved toward the vehicle, his eyes taking a quick tour of the empty interior. He flattened his palm on the hood, swinging his gaze up to the door marked 202 in cheap, reflective numbers.
    The car was still warm.