His to Take (Wicked Lovers #9)(120)
Author: Shayla Black

Sweat sheened his skin. His heart beat in rapid thumps of anxiety. His fingers ached from gripping the crowbar and digging into the hard soil, which had been frozen for most of the winter. He’d have dirt under his fingernails for the next six months—and he just didn’t care. They might be moments away from the discovery that could save Bailey and allow her to walk away from her past as Tatiana Aslanov.

Joaquin risked a peek at her. A little dewy film covered her forehead and just under her bottom lip. Hell of a time to notice that her nipples strained the purple T-shirt she wore. With her hair in a haphazard knot on her head and her gaze focused down, she still looked beautiful to him. In fact, she always did—at any time, in any setting. He’d do whatever he must to keep her safe. And make her his.

Joaquin reached into the hole they’d dug, feeling his way along the edge of the metallic object. Definitely some sort of box.

Bailey dug around the other side, then looked up at him with an excited smile. “I got my fingers under the edge.”

They were close.

“Let me try . . .” He burrowed his digits deeper into the earth, finagling at the edge until the pads of his fingers slipped just under. “I got it, too.”

He looked down into the hole, trying to see what he’d only felt so far, but with the canopy of trees filtering out their late afternoon sun, only a shadowy gray yawned back at him.

“Can you pull it up? I think if we wiggle it, we might be able to wedge it free.”

Joaquin suspected she was right. “Let’s do it. Carefully. I don’t think anything is breakable, but let’s not take a chance.”

They pulled and strained, jiggling one side, then the other. Finally, the sun dropped, seeming to touch the mountain in the distance. Longer shadows fell across the parking lot as he pulled his side free from the hole. Bailey lifted hers up next, and earth trickled back into the hole. The sharp edges of the metallic box bit into his fingers as he held it up to the residual sunlight for a good look.

“There’s no lock on it?” Bailey sounded confused by that fact.

“I’m surprised, too. But I guess he had no way of giving you a key and being sure you could hang on to it until you were an adult. Getting you to remember the location of the box was a feat in itself, so he probably didn’t want to risk hoping you’d remember a combination on top of it. Besides, with a good pair of wire cutters and some gumption, anyone could snip the lock free.”

“Good point.”

Joaquin reached for the latch holding the lid shut. As he grasped it, Bailey touched his arm softly.

“Can I do it?” She looked somewhere between nervous and earnest.

This was something she needed to do. Being the first person to set eyes on whatever her father had buried over fifteen years ago would bring her a sense of closure. Hopefully, she’d be seeing exactly what her family had died for, what had wrought so much destruction in her life both now and then. He prayed nothing in here would hurt her or increase her risk of danger even more. But nothing about chasing this crazy needle in this bizarre haystack had been easy or a given. He couldn’t take this away from her now.

“Do it.” Joaquin handed her the box.

*   *   *

WITH both relief and a new onslaught of tension, Bailey took the metal container into her grip. It wasn’t huge, maybe six inches by four. Caked in dirt, the color was tough to discern, but as she brushed the top clean with her fingers, she suspected it had once been an industrial gray. A sticker of what looked like a mouse was stuck on top, yellowed by time and earth. Viktor had thought of everything in order to tie the rhyme to the location of the box, right down to the little rodent.

Trembling, she took hold of the latch. The rectangular hole in the middle fit over a metal protrusion curved in the shape of a U, which prevented the lid from opening without human intervention. Her hands trembled as she freed the flap from the flange, then lifted the lid.

Joaquin leaned in with her as they both peered into the box. Inside lay something smallish and square, swathed in layers of bubble wrap. Bailey reached for it, then hesitated.

“Go ahead,” he encouraged. “This is what your father wanted you to find.”

“What if this . . . whatever it is Viktor left me doesn’t make my trouble with LOSS go away?”

“We’ll deal with it then, but he kept you alive for this. Check it out.”

Anxiety and excitement biting into her belly, Bailey reached into the box and lifted the plastic bundle. She tore into the taped seal of the bubble wrap, her fingers fumbling with nerves and haste.

She nearly dropped it. With a shriek, Bailey bit her lip to hold the sound in as the protective coat finally unraveled from the device.