Texas and Tarantulas by Bailey Bradford Page A

direction finally, Mahon’s internal alarms went off. There was an almost palpable connection between them, one Mahon thought he should be able to reach out and get an electrical shock from.
    Trent cocked his head, still staring at him.
    No, he couldn’t be. Trent couldn’t see him in the dark.
    Mahon knew his business, and he was well-hidden. He wasn’t more than twenty feet away, but he was invisible to Trent.
    Trent flicked his wrist.
    The next thing Mahon knew, water splattered his face and chest, as well as almost all the rest of his front.
    “Heard you gasp, motherfucker,” Trent said in a perfectly calm voice. “I think we were quite clear on what would happen—”
    “I don’t believe we even really spoke,” Mahon said, stepping out of the shadows before Trent could say something Mahon wouldn’t be able to plausibly deny hearing.
    Trent hit him right in the face with a full-on blast of water. It stung in places, and Mahon had opened his mouth to keep on speaking, so he ended up coughing and blowing snot bubbles as he tried to keep from choking.
    Then it occurred to him to duck.
    Trent followed him with the water until Mahon got smart enough to turn his back to the sadistic hose-wielding bastard.
    “Stop!” Mahon said, and when that had no effect, he roared it. “Stop!”
    “I never did like taking orders,” Trent drawled. “You don’t want to get hosed off, get the fuck out of here then.”
    By all accounts, Mahon had heard stories about how nice the Jacek boys were, even if there were some people who said shitty things because the brothers were gay. Joe was more serious, and everyone—except the bigots—loved Trent.
    Mahon was ready to strangle him. He moved back into the shadows, then back further still. “I just wanted to meet you and see if we could fuck again.” That wasn’t an untruth. Mahon’s ass still ached, but he’d take another round if Trent was interested.
    Then he’d do his job.
    “Yeah well, you’re evidently a stalker, and I really don’t do well with that kind of attention on me—or that kind of pressure,” Trent said. “Besides, I don’t believe you. You’re standing out in what amounts to my back yard, spying on—” Trent dropped the hose. “I swear to fucking God I will hunt you down and shoot you if anything’s happened to Joe or Diego!”
    Trent was inside and yelling out the rest of his threat.
    Mahon scrubbed his hands through his soaked hair, then over his face. How the hell had everything gotten so messed up tonight?
    Oh, right. He’d gotten busted spying on Trent. That’s how. Added to that problem, he’d been a right idiot to think Trent would buy the whole ‘want to see about fucking’ line. Even if it was true. Mahon would have tried to kill someone if they’d acted the creeper like he’d made it seem he was doing.
    The real reason he was out there was worse. Mahon needed to cut his losses for the night and forget about sex with Trent. He had to put his people first.
    He took a half-step back when Trent came outside, holding something a lot more dangerous than a water hose.
    He aimed the shotgun right at Mahon. “Get your ass up here where I can see you in the porch light again.”
    Mahon raised his hands up. There was a very serious, very deadly quality to Trent’s tone that let him know Trent would pull the trigger.
    The wolf shifters had said Trent was a brutal killer. Mahon knew almost anyone could be, given the necessary circumstances.
    He moved forward cautiously, noting the steady grip Trent had, the way the barrel didn’t move so much as a fraction of a centimeter.
    “Now, try telling me again… Why are you out here?” Trent asked. He thumbed the hammer.
    Mahon felt the sweat breaking out along his back and armpits. He wasn’t afraid to die. He just really didn’t want to do it until he was a hell of a lot older. There was no way he was deviating from his claim when doing so would result in his death.
    “I told you. I wanted to