Deep Under (Tall, Dark and Deadly #4) Read online

  A WALKER

  SECURITY

  NOVEL

  NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLING AUTHOR

  LISA RENEE JONES

  Deep Under

  by Lisa Renee Jones

  Copyright © 2016

  Book 1 of the WALKER SECURITY series

  A spinoff of the Tall, Dark, and Deadly series which includes:

  Book 1: Hot Secrets

  Book 2: Dangerous Secrets

  Book 3: Beneath the Secrets

  Full length, loosely connected prelude: Secrets Exposed

  Also by Lisa Renee Jones

  The Inside Out Series

  If I Were You

  Being Me

  Revealing Us

  His Secrets*

  Rebecca’s Lost Journals

  The Master Undone*

  My Hunger*

  No In Between

  My Control*

  I Belong to You

  All of Me*

  The Secret Life of Amy Bensen

  Escaping Reality

  Infinite Possibilities

  Forsaken

  Unbroken*

  Careless Whispers

  Denial

  Demand (May 2016)

  Surrender (December 2016)

  Dirty Money

  Hard Rules (August 2016)

  More information coming soon…

  *eBook only

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to the supplier and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. To obtain permission to excerpt portions of the text, please contact the author at www.lisareneejones.com

  All characters in this book are fiction and figments of the author’s imagination. www.lisareneejones.com

  Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, and while the state of New York does not allow the Death Penalty now, it did when this story was originally written.

  Table of Contents

  Titlepage

  The Walker Brothers

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The Series & More to Come

  Available Now “IF I WERE YOU”

  Don’t Miss the Spinoff “DENIAL”

  Also by Lisa Renee Jones

  Did you Miss Royce’s Book – HOT SECRETS?

  Excerpt from Luke Walker’s Book – DANGEROUS SECRETS

  Excerpt from Blake Walker’s Book – BENEATH THE SECRETS

  About the Author

  The Walker Brothers…

  Tall, dark, and deadly, these three brothers run Walker security. Each brother is unique in his methods and skills, but all share key similarities. They are passionate about those they love, relentless when fighting for a cause they believe in, and believe that no case is too hard, no danger too dark. Dedication is what they deliver, and results are their reward.

  Prologue

  Myla

  Fourteen months ago…

  Entering through the employee door at the back of one of the three San Francisco located Shivers, a “something for everyone” kind of restaurant, I still can’t believe the “something” for me is a job. At twenty-five years old, I’m supposed to be progressing in my career, not taking food orders. But then, waiting tables wasn’t exactly what I had in mind when I’d packed up my car in Texas and used my savings to get here for a job that fell apart before I even arrived. I knew being a fashion designer was still a long reach for me, but a move from merchandiser for a smaller retailer to one of the largest on the planet would have been a step in the right direction.

  Shutting the door behind me, I cut left into a small locker room, stopping at the first of twelve metal doors. Grabbing the lock, I turn the combination, and open the door, quickly sticking my purse inside before grabbing the pink apron on the hook. Fitting it over my jean-clad hips, I wish like heck it covered the low V of my hot pink “Shivers” t-shirt. But then, unlike some of the girls here, I prefer using my brain as an asset to get ahead in the world over the DD’s. Though I guess I should thank the girls, since I’m fairly certain they are why I was hired, considering my boss, Eduardo, spends way too much time looking at them for my comfort. I might not like that reasoning, but I need to pay my bills.

  I shove the locker shut and set my lock in place before turning and all but running into a big, broad body. “Eduardo,” I gasp. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

  He gives me one of his heavy-lidded stares, his thick arms crossed in front of a broad chest some might think is rather stellar. I, on the other hand, think it’s as creepy as the way he looks at me. “The CEO of the chain is in the house tonight, in the private, lower-level dining room. You’ll be attending his needs.”

  “Me? I’m still learning.”

  “He’ll like you. That’s all that matters.” He settles his hands on his hips. “There’s a two-thousand dollar bottle of tequila with Joe at the bar waiting on your service. And make it fast. He’s thirsty.” He turns and leaves and I stand there for several beats before I shake myself and start moving, following in his footsteps, down a long hallway past several offices.

  Exiting into the main restaurant, the clusters of wooden tables and bar booths are half-filled, but considering it’s Friday night, I am certain they will soon be at capacity. That means big tips I pray I don’t miss out on for an owner not likely to tip at all. Turning right, I head to the end of the horseshoe-shaped bar and Joe meets me at the counter, setting two glasses down in front of me. “Don’t spill this. It’s liquid gold.”

  “I don’t even know where the downstairs is.”

  He motions behind me and I glance over my shoulder to an archway and then back at him to discover he’s already walking away. Inhaling, I pick up the two glasses and head in that direction. Right now I really wish I was back in Texas, where at least I had a job in my field, and I’d still have Sally, my best friend, who was recently married and now pregnant. Exhaling, I head down about a dozen stairs and reach a landing to cross to a large archway. Entering, I find a cave-like room with a long rectangular booth horizontal to me that could easily seat a dozen, but leaves no walking room in the small space. There are only two men present. My boss, who has his back to me, and a Hispanic man in an expensive looking suit, who is facing me.

  “You must be Myla,” the man says, an arrogant, worldly air to him, the slight graying at his temples aging him to what must be his forties. “Come,” he adds, lifting a hand. “Bring me my drink.” There is something about this man’s command that is powerful, almost sexy, and yet…he is sinister. Scary even. I walk toward the table and set both men’s drinks in front of them. “Thank you,” he says, and surprisingly, he does not look at my cleavage. He just looks at me, and does so with uncomfortable intensity.

  I force my hands to my hips, when I really want to hug myself. “Can I get
you a menu?”

  “How old are you?” he asks, as if I haven’t spoken.

  “Twenty-five.”

  “Why are you waiting tables?”

  “I moved here to start a new job that fell through during my relocation, but I assure you I need the work, and I’ll work hard.”

  “I am quite certain you will. Leave us to talk, but when my business is done here you’ll join me for dinner. In other words, you are to remain free of other obligations.”

  “What? No I-” He arches a brow and I quickly amend. “I’m sorry. I just…I need the tips tonight. I do appreciate the offer though.”

  “I’ll be leaving a five-hundred dollar tip. So you’ll have dinner with me. Now, leave us.”

  I jolt with the command, my heart thundering in my chest, while my feet move of their own accord, leading me up the stairs. Once I’m there, I’m not sure what to do with myself. I’m more than a little uncomfortable with being ordered to dinner, but considering the cost of living in this city, I need that five hundred dollars. Not sure what to think of any of this, my gaze scans the restaurant and catches on Heather, a waitress who befriended me my first day, heading in my direction. I dart forward and intercept her before she reaches the bar.

  “Why do you look panicked?” she asks, blowing a lock of blonde hair from her eyes.

  “The owner of the restaurant is here and-”

  “Michael Alvarez is here?”

  “Yes and-”

  “Do you know who he is?”

  My brow dips. “What do you mean?”

  “The leader of one of the biggest cartels in the country.”

  “What? He’s the leader of a cartel?”

  “Oh yes,” she says. “He has money and he’s kind of sexy, or so I hear. He never comes in, but I Googled him, and he’s scary. So very scary.” She touches my elbow. “I have a cranky customer. I’ll be back in a minute. I need to get him his drink.” She darts around me and I stand there, shell-shocked, and well…shell-shocked. It takes me almost twenty seconds to realize that I should be calling my sister who’s an FBI agent.

  I rush toward the hallway and the offices, cutting down the hallway, and instead of going to the employee locker room, I enter the bathroom to my right. Walking to the last stall, I enter and shut the door, locking up before leaning on the solid surface, already removing my phone from my pocket to punch in my sister’s number. It starts ringing and dang it, it goes to voicemail, the way it often does for months on end when she’s undercover. I don’t even know if she will get my message but the beep sounds and I say, “Kara. It’s Myla.” The bathroom door opens and I silently curse being forced to leave a generic message. “Call me. Please.”

  Leaning my head on the hard surface, I wonder what it is about this family that sends us into a collision course with really bad people, which has me considering my options. Alvarez is the kind of man that my father and sister have devoted their lives to shutting down. The kind of man who killed my parents. So I should get the hell out of here, leave and go to a temp service tomorrow, and for those very reasons, and more, I’m justified and smart for doing so. No one knows how dangerous Alvarez is, simply because of what he is, more than me. Decision made, I decide to call anyone I can in the FBI to reach her, the instant I’m out of here. Pushing off the door, I open it and gasp to find a man with a long scar down his cheek standing in front of me.

  “What are you doing in here?”

  “Mr. Alvarez requests your company, which means I’ll need your phone, and I’ll need to search you.”

  “What? No. No. I don’t agree.”

  His lips twist in an evil grin. “I don’t remember asking.”

  Chapter One

  Kyle

  Present day – Dallas, TX

  “Holy hell,” I murmur, glancing in the rearview mirror of the black classic Mustang I’m driving, my gaze catching on the white pick-up two vehicles back, and the outline of two familiar people inside it. Scowling, I grab my cellphone from the drink holder to hit the call button. “Siri,” I command. “Dial Whataburger,” I say, my favorite burger joint, code for the number connecting my temporary phone to Royce Walker’s.

  “Dialing Whataburger,” Siri replies, and I decide right then that she’s the only woman in the Walker Security regime that actually follows orders. The ex-FBI agent in that damn truck behind me sure doesn’t, but then neither does the ex-ATF agent sitting next to her that I usually call my friend and boss. Royce ordered him to hold down the fort for Walker Security in New York.

  “Yeah?” Royce answers gruffly.

  “Blake and Kara are here, tailing me, and if they don’t know I’m about to meet with a bigwig inside the Alvarez cartel, they will if you don’t get them off my ass.”

  “He was just at a wedding in Sonoma. How the hell would they know we’re in Dallas?” I can almost hear him scowl at the question before he says, “Don’t answer. He’s my fucking pain in the ass younger brother, which means he figured out the case I pulled you in for is really about Alvarez, and hacked every electronic device we own.”

  “Like I hacked my way into finding out that Alvarez is alive,” I say, a skill I share with him, as surely as I do a bloody history. “They can’t know Alvarez is alive. If they find out we have a lead on him after rumors of his death a few months ago, that gives them hope that Kara’s sister is as well, and we have no idea if that’s true.”

  “She’s alive,” he says. “She might not be the flavor of the month at his side, but he wouldn’t kill her. Not when he could push her into the sex trafficking operation.”

  “You don’t know that, Royce, and I was there the night Alvarez blew up a helicopter and made us all think he and she were dead for a split second. And then the solid rumors of his death, and possibly hers, months ago…It was hell for Kara and I saw how Blake responded. He has a lot of pent up hate for Alvarez. Give him a reason and he will kill him before we save the rest of the women.”

  “It’s been almost three years since Whitney died, Kyle. He has Kara now.”

  “Three years, since his then-fiancée was slaughtered by Alvarez feels like yesterday, if you open the wound. Believe me, I was there when that happened, too. You don’t want that Blake to return.”

  He is silent for several beats in which I turn a corner, and so does that damn white pick-up. “I’ll contain them,” he finally says.

  “Contain them?” I demand, scrubbing my newly shaved face, having given up my beard for this assignment. “Tell me that means you’re getting them the fuck out of here.”

  “I’ll evaluate when you let me off the damn phone.”

  “I need to cancel the meeting,” I say, certain this is going to get us all killed. “I’m pulling over.”

  “You will not pull over,” he orders, pulling the hard-ass boss routine. “You know damn well that if you do, Blake will follow, and you risk your cover being blown. We both know you aren’t going to do that. And you say you know Blake, so you know that means he’s not following you on a hunch. He knows. I’m not going to trick him into thinking this isn’t about Alvarez.”

  He’s right. “Fuck,” I growl.

  “Yeah,” he concurs. “Fuck. And for the record, you and I might share an FBI background, but you don’t understand the fuck about me if you think I can’t handle my brother. Get to that meeting and get inside Alvarez’s operation. Be the guy they hire to be the notorious bodyguard those with big secrets hire when they need protection. Then be his worst nightmare.”

  “I’m already sold as that guy.” I shift back to what’s important right now, in this moment. “You’re close to this too, Royce. This isn’t a job we took for Walker Security. It’s family.”

  “You’re right. It is. And you’re our family now, so focus on your damn job or you’ll end up dead, in which case I’ll drag you out of your grave to kick your ass.” And in typical Royce fashion, he assumes my compliance, as he does everyone’s, and hangs up, giving me no time to question if I should back the
hell out of this meeting tonight.

  But I’m not backing out. I’m going to get this done and over with, for all of us, once and for all. Bodyguard isn’t exactly the kind of infiltration Blake once had as a security expert that could shield Alvarez’s entire operation, but it’s an in. I’ll make half a million dollars for eight weeks of work, which says I’m reaching fairly high up the chain. The hotel is now in my line of sight, and it’s time to pray Royce has this handled.

  “Siri,” I say, pulling into the driveway of the Ritz.

  “Yes, Kyle,” Siri says. “What can I help you with?”

  “Clear all phone and text logs,” I say, eyeing my rear mirror with no white pick-up in sight.

  “Clearing all phone and text logs,” Siri confirms, and I stop at the door, grabbing my phone and confirming her work.

  “At least you’re reliably compliant, Siri.”

  “I’m afraid I can’t do that, Kyle,” Siri says.

  “Of course you can’t,” I grumble, scrubbing a hand through my blond hair that screams outsider to a Mexican cartel, or so my contact Juan told me at our first meeting. But then that was the point of shaving my beard, too. I’m supposed to be the outsider they need on the inside, and it’s worked or I’d never have made it to meeting number two and now three.

  The doorman opens my door and despite it being February, I step outside into the year round Texas humidity of my childhood, my roots here helping establish my cover story. “Hello sir,” the fifty-something, rather stately, man greets me. “Will you be staying with us tonight?”

  “Just a few hours,” I say, offering him my keys before I smooth down the navy jacket of one of my “go to” suits from my days in the FBI. “Keep her safe.”

  “Always, sir,” he assures me, offering me a ticket, his face completely straight as he adds, “But I shall fantasize about driving her on the highway at a hundred and forty miles an hour.”