by Vicki Hinze
“He was teasing, and they will believe you.” Elle pulled back, forced conviction into her voice that Lizzie couldn’t miss. “Lizzie, these men know what it’s like to be in trouble. They know what it’s like to have to keep secrets. And if you think they will blow off what you tell them because you’re young, you’re wrong.”
“How do you know?”
“I—I…” How did she know? Unable to answer specifically, she added, “I just do. You learn to read people, and I read them pretty well. They will hear you, and listen to you, and they will believe you. I promise.”
“Promise?”
Elle nodded. “Your mom needs help. You’ve got to tell Nick so he and the guys can help her.”
“I want to, but I can’t. The man said we could never tell anyone.”
“You can tell Nick. He and Sam and Joe and Tim are… Well, people can tell them things they can never tell anyone else.”
“How come?”
“Because they know things nobody else knows.”
“How come?”
“I don’t know. But they do.”
“So it’s okay and people tell them secrets? Really?”
“They do all the time.” Elle couldn’t get anymore specific. She didn’t know anything more specific. She clasped Lizzie’s shoulders. “Listen to me. They can help your mom and, most importantly, they will help her. She needs them, Lizzie.”
Lizzie looked skeptical but hopeful. “You pinky swear I can trust them?”
“Yes, Lizzie,” Elle said softly, lifting her finger and hooking it with Lizzie’s. “You can trust them all.”
“Do you trust them?”
“I do.” Elle nodded, adding weight to her words. “I wouldn’t pinky swear otherwise.”
That satisfied her, but another doubt reared its ugly head. “But why would they help me?”
Elle smiled. “Because that’s what they do.”
“That’s what my mom said.” The affirmation comforted Lizzie. “But I don’t have any money to pay them.”
“You don’t need any.” Elle stroked Lizzie’s face. “I have gobs of money and we’ll use every penny of it if we have to, but I know Nick Sloan, and I’m telling you, Lizzie, he doesn’t care about the money. He cares about you. And the rest of the guys are like that, too, or Nick wouldn’t be partners with them.”
“He cares about you, too.”
Did he? Uncertain, Elle held her silence.
“He does. He watches you when you’re not looking. You can tell when you see that.”
Elle let that news settle into her hungry heart. “He cares about me—a little bit.” A lot less than she cared about him, but that’s the way it always had been. “But for you, any of Nora’s boys would move mountains.”
“You think so?”
“I know so.” Elle lifted her arms. “Doesn’t Nora nurture everybody?”
“Uh-huh, but I ain’t Nora.”
“Course not, but these men are special to her.”
“Everybody’s special to Nora.”
“Well, that might be, but why do think only they are her boys?”
Lizzie dried her eyes and drew in a sharp breath. “Because they’re like her.”
“That’s right.” Elle nodded. “You tell Nick. The sooner he knows, the sooner they can help your mom.”
“I will—in just a second.” Lizzie stood up and sniffled. “I need to do something first.”
She ran toward their shared bath, stopped, then came back and snagged the yellow sundress. “I need this.” She ran through the bath and on into her room.
Elle waited but curiosity got the best of her. What was she doing? Shuddering inside, reeling from their talk, Elle entered the bathroom and peeked into Lizzie’s room.
The child was kneeling on the floor beside her bed, her eyes closed, her hands folded. Her lips moved but she kept her silence.
Praying for her mom. For courage.
Elle backed up a step and pressed her hand flat over her abdomen. Her stomach had so many knots in it she feared she’d be sick. Jaycee and Megan Cole were Sue Ellen and Lizzie Montgomery. Elle heard it, believed it, but still could barely grasp it.
Nick would come through for them. The team would come through for them. Elle didn’t doubt that. But when they discovered the truth, they surely would kick Elle to the curb like yesterday’s trash.
Because whatever this fix was Sue Ellen was in, it was Elle’s fault.
How in the world could Elle explain that?
Secrets. She couldn’t explain it. She’d never be able to explain it. Tears burned the backs of her eyes, stung her nose.
If Nick hadn’t hated her before for deceiving him about being an engineer with her dad’s firm, as soon as Lizzie told him her story and he put all the pieces together, he would hate Elle with unbridled passion the rest of his days.
The most horrible part was, she deserved it. And even his worst would be a fraction of the hatred she felt for herself about it.
As she left the bath, she spotted the black dot on the wall and remembered the cameras. The surveillance camera downstairs, where last night they’d all watched Lizzie sleeping.
Part of Elle, the cowardly part, hoped the guys had observed the conversation between Lizzie and she. Elle wasn’t at all convinced Lizzie would open up to Nick or Sam—Nick clearly intimidated her with his stern disposition—and Elle couldn’t tell them. She’d promised. Yet they needed to know. Sue Ellen’s life could well depend on them knowing and helping her.
Oh, don’t make me break a promise to her. Please, don’t make me have to do that.
Elle dressed quickly in the bath and then called for Lizzie. “You ready to go downstairs?” The sooner, the better. Less time to change her mind.
“Yep.” She joined Elle, wearing the yellow sundress and white sandals. “I figured it couldn’t hurt to look like a scared kid—mainly cuz that’s what I am.”
“Ah, I see. You’re making it hard for them to say no, they won’t help you.” Elle was on to her.
“That, too.”
“Lizzie, you don’t have to worry. They won’t say no. It won’t even occur to them that they could say no. They aren’t those kind of men.”
“She’s right, bro.” Joe looked pleased with himself. “We’re not those kind of men.”
They weren’t. Nick poured himself another cup of coffee. “No one says a word. We saw and heard nothing.”
“The kid nailed you, Nick.” Joe sat down on the sofa.
“That ain’t no lie.” Sam nodded in agreement.
“I said, not a word.” Nick’s temper flared. Bristling at hearing her description of him, he tried to forget it, but her words grated at him. Broken. Broken?
“Don’t get fired up, bro. Elle trusts us all because of you,” Joe reminded Nick. “That’s a good thing.”
“She reads people well.” Nick recalled her sense of the three men following her in London. “You heard her instinctively react on the street in London.”
Joe nodded. “Most ignore their instincts in those situations.”
“And pay huge for it.” Nick thought back. Elle’s instincts had been sharp four years ago during his security tests, too. She hadn’t surprised him then, but she had impressed him, and that was nearly as difficult to do.
“We can’t say anything about any of what we heard to either of them?” Sam frowned his obvious disagreement with that decision and tugged his ball cap down until its brim shaded his eyes. “You’re gonna put the kid through relaying all that again?”
Nick lifted his chin. “Yes, I am.”
“Why?” Joe lifted a hand, let it drop onto the arm of the sofa. “Seems unnecessarily cruel.”
Nick kept his temper in check. He wasn’t just being bitter because she’d nailed him. He wanted to be, but he couldn’t do it. “Nothing cruel about it.”
“Seems cruel, then,” Joe persisted. “And unnecessary.”
Nick frowned and held it so Joe wouldn’t miss it. “If
Lizzie tells us herself, it establishes trust between her and us—in addition to her trust with Elle. She needs people to trust. It also gives us the opportunity to learn more from her. You know all this. It’s basic interrogation technique. And both of you know we need more than we have to do her mom any good.”
Sam wanted to argue; that was clear from the set of his jaw. “I see what you’re saying, buddy,” he said, pointing at Nick, “but you make her cry again, and we’re gonna have a problem.”
“My objective isn’t to make Lizzie cry,” Nick said from between his teeth. “I want to ease her worries and to help her mother.”
“Wait. I see it now. Sam, we need to lighten up.” Joe stood up and got between Nick and Sam. “He recognized it right away. I just got it. When Elle and Lizzie were talking, Nick saw what I saw.”
“Yeah, I saw it, too. A crying kid and an uncomfortable adult trying to comfort her.”
“Not just uncomfortable. There was more,” Joe said, letting his gaze glide to Nick. “Elle knows a lot of something that she’s not eager to talk about. If Lizzie has to cry a few tears to get Elle to talk to us, then so be it. Tears aren’t all bad, you know? They can be therapeutic.” Joe clapped Sam’s shoulder. “If she cries again, you can get her an ice-cream cone or something. How’s that? Maybe she won’t be ticked off at you any more for calling her a tyrant.”
“The kid’s worried sick about her mom and you’re thinking an ice-cream cone’s gonna make anything better?”
“Works for you, most of the time,” Joe said. “Well, ice-cream and raging like a maniac for a while.” Joe lifted a hand. “Let her yell at you. Kills two birds with one stone.”
“Shut up, Joe.”
“No sense of humor at all.” Joe rubbed his chin. “Maybe you are dead from the neck up.”
Sam shot Joe a killer glare. “Dead enough to save your sorry backside more than once—and to wonder why I bothered.”
“You don’t mean that, bro.”
“No, but right this second, I wish I did.”
Sam was gifted and insightful with a nose beyond compare. Nick knew it immediately, and Joe had learned it within hours. Still, the whole team hammered Sam about being dead from the neck up. Like a stump. Course, they hammered each other about that, too. It was a running thing between them. Now if an outsider said it, there’d be consequences, but needling each other helped alleviate stress and, on missions, they always had a lot of stress. The team had all kinds of decompression valves. A perk of the business they were in.
Elle and Lizzie came down the stairs and into the gathering room.
Sunlight streaked in from the windows and lit Elle’s smiling face. Nick’s breath caught then swooshed out of his lungs. Irritated by that, he frowned. How did she do that to him? Why couldn’t she stop doing that? Broken. Unloved. Humiliated.
“Are we interrupting something?” Elle asked, clearly picking up on the tension in the gathering room.
“Nothing at all. Sam’s just threatening to take me outside again. He gets grumpy if he’s not fed early in the morning. His sugar runs low.” Joe smiled. “Don’t you two look gorgeous this morning?”
“Thank you for the clothes,” Lizzie said.
“Yes, thank you.” Elle smiled. “You did well on guessing our sizes.”
“Joe’s the ace at that.” Nick nodded, giving credit where credit was due.
“Well, thanks. I’ll reimburse you as soon as… well, as soon as I can.” She licked her lips and studied Nick. The look in her eyes went suddenly serious. “Lizzie needs to talk with you about something important. All of you, if that’s okay.”
“Course.” Sam walked up to Lizzie and looked down at her. “What’s up, half-pint?”
Lizzie opened her mouth to talk but no sound came out. She tried again but remained mute.
“Lizzie?” Sam’s tone softened. “You okay?”
She burst into tears.
Sam shot Nick a look that would melt steel, then scooped up Lizzie and patted her back. “Hey, I don’t know what all these tears are about but I wish you’d stop them.”
“Why? Cuz you don’t like to see girls cry?”
“That ain’t no lie. I don’t like seeing anyone cry,” Sam said. “But I hate seeing you cry.”
She pulled back and looked at him, eye to eye. “Why do you care if I cry?”
“Because I know how brave you are, and anything that upsets you that much, upsets me.”
Lizzie’s tight jaw went slack. She worried her lips, then admitted the truth. “I’m not brave. I’m scared, Sam.”
“Well, here’s the thing. Even the bravest of the brave gets scared sometimes.”
“Not you.”
“It ain’t often, but it does happen. Now Nick, he’s scared most of the time. That’s why he’s so grouchy.”
Nick cleared his throat, warning Sam off.
Sam smiled.
Lizzie burrowed deeper into Sam’s shoulder. “He don’t look scared. He looks really mad.”
“Naw, he’s just thinking hard. He always looks like that when he’s thinking hard.”
“What’s he thinking about all the time?”
“All kinds of stuff,” Sam confided. “Nick’s real smart.”
She nodded. “You’re not scared of him?”
“Nick?” Sam laughed. “Not a bit.”
That relieved her. “Guess I won’t be either, then.”
“Course not.” Sam nodded toward the recliner. “What do you say about us going and sitting down in that big chair over there and you can tell me what’s got you scared?”
“I’m not supposed to tell.”
“Secret, eh?”
She nodded.
“Well, I guess you need to know then that we’re the official secret keepers.”
“What?”
“It’s true, Lizzie.” He dropped his voice. “We keep all kinds of secrets for all kinds of people.”
“Even ones people aren’t supposed to tell anybody else ever?”
“Even those.”
She looked at him openly skeptical.
“Think about it, Lizzie. We fix things. How are we going to fix them so people ain’t scared if we don’t know what’s broken or why they’re scared? That don’t make sense—and you’re a sensible girl. Smart, too, so you know I’m telling you true, of course.”
“I do. But I could get in a lot of trouble, Sam. Big trouble.”
“Well, now. That’s quite the puzzle.” He dragged a hand through his beard. “Will there be more trouble if we just talk? Or more trouble if we don't?”
“I don’t know.”
“Hmm…Well, let’s talk ‘til you do know, and then we’ll decide.”
She thought a second. “That seems sensible.”
“It’s settled then. And no more tears, okay? They scare me.” He bent his head close to her ear and whispered. “That’s one of my secrets you can’t tell.”
Lizzie shot him a doubtful look. “Nah-uh, you ain’t scared of nothing.”
“Uh-uh. Tears make me shake in my boots.” He held up a hand. “Promise.”
She leaned over and looked down. “You’re wearing flip-flops.”
“Right now, and they definitely ain’t made for shaking.”
“Sandals either.” She lifted her foot for him to see.
“There it is, then.” He moved to the chair. “Okay, half-pint. Let’s talk…”
Elle watched Sam with Lizzie, then told Nick. “He’s very good with her.”
“He’s half kid,” Nick muttered. “That helps.”
“So while they talk, what do we do?” She asked, surmising Nick was still stinging from what he’d overheard of the conversation with Lizzie upstairs. The way the guys were acting, they’d definitely heard every single word. More than anything else, Sam’s tenderness with Lizzie proved it.
“We wait,” Nick told her.
Joe passed her a cup of coffee. “No cream or sugar, right?”
“Right.” He
remembered. “Thanks.” She took the cup, looked back at Nick. “What are we waiting for?”
“Sam to call us over for advice.”
Elle nodded. So they’d let him handle whatever, then seek their advice, and then they’d all be invited in on the conversation. Wise, and not so overwhelming for Lizzie, who did seem to have a special fondness for Sam. At first, Elle thought it was because he was big and that made her feel safe. Now, she wondered if Lizzie didn’t sense the protective streak in him that ran as wide as his back was broad. Either way, she appreciated the little respite. She had a decision to make and it was a hard one.
She could let them find out the truth on their own-- the probable costs of that would be her booted out on her foolish elbow to face only heaven knew what alone—or tell them what she’d just discovered and suspected and spare them the trouble of unearthing it themselves. That could soften them a little toward her so they’d keep her around and help her and Lizzie.
If Elle could be as brave as Lizzie and work up the courage to reveal it all.
Elle had become accustomed to seeing cool reserve in Nick’s deep gray eyes. That was hard, considering her feelings for him. She’d been crazy about the man from first sight. But to have him look at her with condemnation?
She wasn’t sure she could stand it. Even his anger at her forced deception about being her father’s assistant had been hard. He’d definitely taken it personally. She could only imagine his reaction at what she had to tell him now.
Her insides shaking, she emptied her cup and then poured herself another coffee. Steam lifting from the cup, she glanced over to the big chair. Sam and Lizzie were still talking. He nodded, frowned, and sighed. Muttered, sputtered, and stroked at his beard. Twice, she’d heard him say, “Well now, ain’t that something?”
Elle sat down at the bar, sipped from her cup. He wasn’t rushing Lizzie. It would be a while.
Nick came up behind her. “Hungry?”
She couldn’t swallow a bite. Not with all this hanging over her head. She didn’t have a lot of options. She didn’t dare return to London. Didn’t dare go to her parents. Didn’t dare go home. And she wasn’t sharp enough on events to face her kidnappers alone. One group, she had no idea who they even were and the other group, she’d spent four years trying to forget. “Not even a little bit.”