by Lexi Blake
“She will,” Becca promised.
She held on to her mother as she shifted and started talking about a dance she was going to with a boy named Leland. She was excited about it because he was awfully handsome.
Becca sat and listened as her mother’s life played out in bits and pieces in her fragmented brain.
But she would never forget the promise she’d made. Never forget what she owed her mother.
A happy life.
* * * *
Fourteen years later
London, England
The dark-haired man stared down at him. “Owen? Owen, do you remember anything?”
He remembered that his whole body ached. His head was foggy with the drugs they’d given him. Good drugs. He knew that much. The drugs held back the agony of having his skin flayed open. They’d bandaged him up and his skin was healing, but it still felt like he’d been set on fire from the inside. “I don’t…where am I?”
He wasn’t going to ask the real question. Who am I? He was fairly certain that he didn’t want to know. Anyone who felt this much pain had to be cursed.
He couldn’t remember anything. He knew he was in a hospital, knew that the woman who’d come in wearing a white coat had been a doctor, was certain the thing in his arm was an IV.
Why couldn’t he remember his bloody name? He was supposed to have a name, right? The black-haired man had said a word. Owen. Was that a name?
“We’ve taken you back to London,” the black-haired man said. He had some kind of an accent. It was heavy, though his English was perfect. Yes, the man was speaking English, but his accent was Russian.
Panic welled because a lot of things were coming back to him. He could describe the world around him, understood what to call the body parts that ached despite the drugs, but his name, who he was, eluded him.
“Am I from London?” The man had used the word back. Did that mean he lived here?
A deep frown creased the man’s face. “You’re originally from Edinburgh, but you’ve lived in London for years. You work for a company called McKay-Taggart and Knight.”
“He doesn’t remember?” a new voice asked.
“Ian, I think it would be best if you give his team time to figure out what’s going on with him.”
He turned and two large blond men were standing close to the door. One was slightly smaller than the other, but they were both extremely large and muscular. Military men. Or something like it.
The black-haired man put his body between the hospital bed and the men in the doorway. “Now is not the time. Theo, I know what he did to you…”
“But he doesn’t, does he?” The one named Ian came stalking in and Owen suddenly wasn’t so sure his pain was over for the day.
Pure instinct made him force his body up. Where was his gun? He carried a gun.
There was no gun here. Why did he carry a gun?
“Nick, I’m not going to murder him,” Ian said.
“No, he’s going to walk away now.” Theo put a hand on Ian’s arm. “She dosed him with the new drug, Ian. He’s not the same person he was before. I know you’re angry. I am, too. He betrayed me and Erin.”
“Dr. McDonald was holding his mother and his sister,” Nick said and Owen could hear the anger in the Russian’s voice.
Were they talking about him? He tried to get up, but his limbs wouldn’t move. What was wrong with his legs? They wouldn’t move at all.
“And he worked at a place where we fucking specialize in saving people.” The words spat out of the big guy’s mouth with the force of a machine gun. “It never occurred to him to mention that he was in trouble? His first reaction was to sentence my brother and Erin to hell?”
“They’re all he has,” Nick replied. “Had. Could you please remember that he’s suffered for what he did?”
What had he done? God, he didn’t understand a damn thing. “What are you talking about? I don’t understand. I don’t know who you are or why I’m here. If you’re going to kill me, get it the hell over with.”
There was a hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach. That anger had been focused on him. White-hot rage had come off the big guy in waves. The Russian had been trying to protect him. Were they friends? The man he thought was called Nick acted like they were supposed to know each other.
Someone had taken his mother and sister? His head ached as he tried to remember. A mother and a sister? He should know them. Their faces should be right there, but his mind was a blank slate.
Pain flared through his brain.
“Let it go.” Theo stood in front of him. “You’re trying to remember, and it won’t work. All you’ll do is give yourself a massive headache.”
“And the fucker deserves one,” Ian said.
Theo turned on the man named Ian. “Brother, I understand that you’re angry, but walk out right now because I’m not going to let you beat the shit out of a man who has no idea who he is or what he’s done.”
Ian’s eyes narrowed. “You’re a better man than me.”
“Everyone knows that,” Theo said, but there was a chuckle to his tone. He sobered quickly. “I know where he is. I’ve been there, and I assure you there is no revenge like what he’s going through. If I could have spared him this, I would have.”
“And I might have pushed the plunger.” Ian turned on his heels. “I’m going to go find Charlie. I suppose you’re going to make me keep him around.”
“Where else are we supposed to send him?” Nick asked. “He’s got nothing.”
“I have a mother and a sister.” They’d said so. Nick had said they were all he had in the world. Where were they? Were they coming to get him? He couldn’t remember his mother’s face or her name, but a mum took care of her children. A sister would show him kindness. If they were here, maybe they would help him remember what had gone so wrong with his life. “Where are they?”
The room seemed to go completely still, as if the air itself wasn’t moving.
“You said I had a mother and a sister.” He looked to the friendliest guy in the room. The big Russian had a grim look on his face. “Are they here?”
He hesitated. “Owen, I…”
Ian’s jaw squared as though he’d made a decision and he took over. “Your name is Owen Shaw. You work for me and a man named Damon Knight. You are former SAS and for the last several years have served as an operative on many intelligence missions. Nikolai Markovic was your partner. We’ve been working on a case where we were attempting to track down a rogue doctor. Her name was Hope McDonald and she was performing memory experiments on men she then turned into her own personal army. A few days ago, your mother and sister were kidnapped by the doctor in an attempt to get you to turn over my brother, Theo.”
His head hurt worse than ever. “Why would she want him?”
“He was her favorite subject,” Ian continued in his matter-of-fact way. Owen found he preferred it to Nick’s sympathetic hesitancy. “You turned over my brother and his fiancée, a woman named Erin Argent.”
“I betrayed my team?” Even in the fog of pain and panic he was in, he knew that wasn’t a good thing.
“You did,” Ian explained without an ounce of emotion.
“He had his reasons,” Theo argued.
“And Dr. McDonald killed your relatives anyway. She murdered them and dosed you with the same memory-wipe drugs she used on my brother. You had an allergic reaction and the doctors weren’t sure you would pull through. It’ll be a miracle if you come out of this only losing your memory.” Ian’s eyes softened marginally. “I’m sorry. Everyone will say I’m an ass but there’s no other way to tell you. She very likely killed them before she even figured out that you refused to turn over my nephew.”
There had been a kid involved? He felt his head shaking. None of this made a lick of sense. “Why should I believe you? You might have been the person who did this to me. Why can’t I feel my bloody legs?”
“I’ll update Damon,” Ian said with a sigh. “You’re
right. He’s a moron, not evil, and I’m still too pissed to make decisions. I’ll let them know you’ll be coming back to The Garden. Keep me updated.”
Theo looked down at him. “I know how scared you are and how angry and confused. I’ll explain everything and Nick here can tell you about your life before today.”
Nick sank down into the chair beside his bed. “I’m your friend, Owen. I’m here for you.”
Theo started to talk, but the words didn’t make sense. Owen closed his eyes and let the desolation wash over him.
He had no family, no home, no past.
No matter what they said, he was alone.
Chapter One
“When I look at him, all I see is unharvested organs,” a sarcastic voice said.
“Could you be serious for two minutes?” another voice asked.
“Oh, oh, oh, I know the answer to that question. I totally know this one.” His brother, Tucker, was likely holding his hand up and waving it, but Owen kept his eyes on the screen.
Same shit. Different day. Now Tucker would say no, Big Tag couldn’t be serious. Sasha would start snoring because he’d been up far too late drinking. Dante would keep quiet as a mouse until he absolutely had to say something. Jax would be texting his wife and completely out of the current loop. He wouldn’t look up from his phone until he heard something that involved him. Ezra and Big Tag would bicker like an old married couple for a few moments and then Robert would try to get them all back on task.
This was the way the last several months of his life had gone. They’d been ready to start the op months before but key elements had fallen through, only coming together in the last few days. They’d scattered around the country, each working a different angle to set this op up, but it was now go time. He wished he could be more excited about it.
“No,” Tucker said and Owen was certain there was a triumphant smile on his face. “Big Tag can’t be serious at all.”
“I assure you I’m entirely serious about carving up Levi Green for parts,” Big Tag replied. “Think about it. All that skin. He’s wasting it and there are lots of people out there who need some. Burn victims totally deserve that skin more than he does, and I bet his liver could go into like three different people.”
“It depends on how big the liver is,” Tucker mused. “But honestly, you can do living liver donations. Of course, it might be way more fun to take the whole thing. I hate that man.”
“And we could do a test to see if Tucker here really was a surgeon,” Tag mused. “This is a win-win.”
Owen let the conversation fade into the background as Sasha started to snore lightly.
Sometimes he was absolutely certain that he’d had no life at all before this one. His days started with some form of slide presentation complete with his boss’s never-ending snark, at some point he sat in front of a computer gathering data, or sat in a car taking pictures, and that was really more like gathering data than it sounded, spent an hour in the gym because the aforementioned boss said he would get pudgy if he didn’t, and then he microwaved something terrible, listened to Tucker bemoan his fate, and finally drank enough whiskey to pass out.
Yet he knew he’d had another life. There was evidence of it, pictures of him smiling with two women he obviously loved—his mum and sister. There were videos of him laughing and talking with them at Christmas. He’d seen photos of himself with Nikolai Markovic, read the emails and joking texts between himself and his one-time partner.
He’d been that partner. Owen Shaw had been in those messages. The man in those texts to Nick had been funny, seemingly loyal, and yet that same man had also betrayed a nice couple, had been willing to send another person into hell to save his own family.
His mother and sister were gone. They were nothing but photographs now, smiling ghosts who tripped through his brain like wispy butterflies he couldn’t quite catch.
“I’m only saying we could do some good in the world,” Big Tag argued. “I’ll scoop his eyeballs out myself. I’ve been practicing. Corneas are in short supply.”
A long-suffering sigh came from Ezra. “Shouldn’t you go back to Dallas? Doesn’t your plane leave soon? You should head to the airport.”
“I’m flying private, man,” Tag shot back. “Billionaire sister-in-law, remember? Who would have guessed Case would end up being the smartest one of us all? I’ve got plenty of time.”
A collective groan went through the room.
Owen sat back and closed his eyes as Robert started talking about the actual op and what they still needed to do. Make contact with the target. Make friends with the target. Bug the target’s mobile. Bug the target’s condo.
Yadda, yadda, yadda.
Turned out Toronto wasn’t so different from Dallas. He’d only been here a few days, but he’d spent his time looking through records and prepping the documents they would need to begin the mission. Robert’s job was logistics, and Owen was his partner for this op.
In the beginning he’d been the lead. Ezra had put him in charge when they’d been worried that the target might recognize them. There was still a risk, and they had less data on a couple of members of the team, but they were almost certain there was no way Walsh had met any of them. When they had been sure they would go through with it, Big Tag had handed the op over to Robert, shoving Owen to the sidelines.
Turned out he was mostly muscle. Until the bullets started flying, there wasn’t much for him to do.
He hadn’t always been muscle. At one point in time, he’d been a bloody good operative. He’d been SAS for years. Or so the files told him. Of course, back then he’d had his memory and a body that hadn’t been ravaged by an experimental drug.
Sometimes he wondered why he was here at all. Guilt, perhaps. They dragged him along because he had nowhere else to go.
He felt a hand nudging him from his right side and he looked up, realizing all eyes were on him.
Big Tag stared at him, his body relaxed, but there was tension in those icy eyes of his. “Sorry, you don’t snore like Sasha there. I couldn’t tell if you were awake or asleep. I asked if you had anything to add since until a few days ago you’ve been the one following Green.”
Yes, he’d been the one sitting in a car outside of numerous bars because the fucker liked to party. “If the bugger works at all, I can’t tell. He spent a total of ten hours at his office in Langley. Not that I could get all that close to it. They tend to not like you spying on the spies.”
Another set of blue eyes was on him. Ezra Fain’s always seemed warmer than Big Tag’s. Tag’s could have come from the arctic, the kind of blue lit by ice. Fain’s were more like a Caribbean sea, the kind that was so clear he could see his feet even when the water hit his chest.
“I have my own people on the inside,” Ezra explained. “He met with groups over the course of a couple of days. My person thinks he met with a senator and a general as well, but we don’t have proof of it. He’s getting all his ducks in line to make his big play. I believe he’s going to use the intelligence he intercepted from us at The Ranch to move up in the organization.”
“Is your person Kimberly Soloman?” He had to ask the question because he had something else to tell his boss, and Fain wasn’t going to like what he’d found.
At the sound of his ex-wife’s name, the former CIA operative paled. Owen could see it even in the dim light. Fain’s smile faded. “No. I haven’t heard from Solo since the day Jax walked into the woods.”
He waited for a moment. No one was watching him now. They were all set on the boss. Well, except Sasha, who was still sleeping. Even Jax had looked up from his phone.
Robert shook his head. “You’re seriously not even going to ask? The last time anyone saw her she’d been shot.”
“She was dying the last time I saw her,” Jax said. Of course he would know. Jax had been dying, too.
Luckily the drug that had taken his memory hadn’t taken his skills. Owen had been the one to fly the helicopter that day. He’d he
lped the doctor to load Jax in and gotten him to a hospital. It had been one of the brief times he could remember that he’d felt like he meant something.
Ezra’s stare had gone stubborn. “There’s nothing to ask. I assume she’s alive. You can’t kill her. She’s like a cockroach.”
He took exception to that since Kimberly Soloman seemed like a nice lady to him. She’d given them valuable intel, and according to Jax she’d been at the site in the woods in Colorado to help them. But then what did he know? “It’s all in my report. Now can we move on to Dr. Walsh? I signed the lease on the condo yesterday. I’ve got movers for tomorrow.”
At least they’d trusted him enough to let him call the movers in.
“Seriously, you don’t care if she even lived?” Tucker ignored him, preferring to gift Fain with a judgmental stare.
“I told you. I know she lived. You don’t take out Solo with a single gut shot. Though I noticed he didn’t go for her heart. She would have been much safer if he had since she doesn’t exactly have one.” He’d been wrong about Ezra’s eyes. They could go incredibly cold when he wanted them to.
Big Tag slapped Ezra on the back. “Good one, man. That’s some serious denial right there. And she totally lived. I’ve already read the report and talked to her on the phone. She had a rough couple of weeks, but she’s on the mend.”
Here was the bad part, the part Big Tag hadn’t read. Owen opened the folder in front of him and slid the photo on top Ezra’s way. “She’s back at work from what I can tell. She met with him for roughly ten minutes at a café outside Langley before she went to her office. I wasn’t close enough to get audio.”
Ezra’s smile held not an ounce of amusement as he stared down at the photo of his ex-wife sitting across from the man who’d burned him and tried to kill him. “I don’t need audio. She’s plotting with her boyfriend.”
Intel on Dr. McDonald’s experiments and the other doctors she’d worked with hadn’t been the only thing they’d learned from their time in Bliss, Colorado. They’d also learned far too much about the boss’s marriage. From what they’d pieced together, Ezra had been married to Kim Soloman, also known as Solo. She’d been responsible for the mission Ezra’s half-brother had died during. He’d blamed her and they’d divorced. She’d had something brief with Levi that had given the bugger crazy-stalker vibes about her, and Ezra wasn’t even close to being over her.