It came across as more curious than stern. No wonder Jacob loved Kyle like a little brother. He didn’t have to say anything to Lee, didn’t have to explain who Kyle was. Lee saw it in Jacob’s eyes whenever he looked at the kid and heard it in his voice whenever he talked about him.
“Are you here to rob us?”
“No. I wouldn’t rob you. In a way, I sort of live here right now.”
He shrugged those petite shoulders. “Walsh says we rob him of all his food.”
“I’m no robber,” Lee defended and hid his smile as he put his hands up. He spotted the summer sausage in his hand and immediately hid it behind his back as guilt heated his cheeks. “I was just hungry.”
“Where’s Jacob?”
“Asleep.”
Kyle narrowed his gaze, clearly unsure whether to trust him or not. “He doesn’t sleep.”
When Lee snuck out of the bed, Jacob was on his stomach, snoring contently. “He is tonight.”
He shrugged again, a gesture Lee caught him doing frequently throughout the day. “If sex makes you tired, why are you up? I heard you. Everyone heard you.”
“We didn’t—” He caught himself. They did. Earlier. A lot. “How old are you?”
“Don’t know.”
That shocked him. How could he not know his age? He looked no bigger than a minute. He’d put the kid at thirteen, maybe fourteen. “Are you in your teens at least?”
He shrugged. “At least.”
“When do you celebrate your birthday?”
“Every year.”
Lee grinned. He loved this kid. “Is there snow on the ground when you have your birthday?”
“Not every year, but there was this year. I love the lights on the trees.”
Christmas. He made a mental note to ask Jacob about it.
“Are you Jacob’s husband?”
Lee choked on his breath. “Uh, um… No.”
“Can I be in your wedding? I was in Evan’s wedding. Well, the fake wedding. He married Clint Duke. He’s famous.”
Lee nodded. Everyone knew Clint Duke. Once branded as the playboy billionaire, Seattle’s most eligible one at that, Clint Duke made it a goal to appear on the front of every tabloid magazine. Lee had read that Clint fell in love with his assistant and flew to New York to marry him. He had no idea that him was an ex-resident of the Farm and, according to Jacob, a sanctioned secondary TREX agent. Did Clint know any of that when they got together?
“Are you in love with Jacob?”
The question caught him off guard, and he dropped the sausage. He whipped around to quickly pick it up off the floor. As he stood he bumped his head on the fridge handle again. If he kept hitting the same spot where he smacked it last night when he fell to the pavement, he’d end up knocking himself out.
“You’re funny. Jacob likes you.”
“Thank you.”
“Do you have any sisters?”
This kid’s mind wandered all over the place. “I have two older brothers.”
“Are they like you?”
“No.” Lee chuckled and shook his head. The only thing he shared with Gregg and Charlie Lamont was a last name. While Lee stood tall and lean, neither Gregg nor Charlie ever made it to six foot and were both built like Mack Trucks. He still hadn’t forgiven them for the way they’d picked on him growing up.
“Do they know you’re gay?”
“You ask a lot of questions.”
He shrugged and sat down on one of the stools. “No one talks to me unless I do.”
“Granted I’ve only been here a day, but I’ve never heard you talk this much.”
“I only talk when I have something to say.”
Words to live by. “Is it okay if I ask you questions, too?”
Kyle’s eyes lit up. He was clearly thrilled someone wanted to actually talk to him. “Sure.”
“Do you have any brothers or sisters?”
“No.” He pinched his face up as he thought about his answer and then gave him a nod in confirmation.
“What about your parents?”
“Can I have some of that?” He ignored his question and pointed at the sausage.
Lee looked at the sausage and nodded. He set it down on the island and went back for the brick of cheese. After pulling a knife out of the block, he got to work.
“You and Jacob screamed at each other a lot.”
“When?”
“Last week in the rain. Then today. Don’t you like each other?”
“Yes, we do.” He searched for a simple way to explain it. “Sometimes adults yell. That doesn’t mean they hate each other.”
“Good.” Kyle hopped off the stool and pulled crackers out of the cupboard before setting the box down between them. Lee then set the cutting board of cheese and sausage next to the crackers. Kyle dumped the entire box of crackers on the cutting board before grabbing a handful to start stacking meat and cheese on. “It’s better than the screaming I’m used to.”
“From your parents?” Lee took a bite of a makeshift sandwich.
“Don’t know,” he stated in a pained, distant tone. “They’re gone.”
“I’m sorry, Kyle. I didn’t mean to pry.”
He lifted his shoulders to shrug it off. “I don’t remember them.”
“What do you remember?”
“Fighting every night,” he answered, his voice vacant as he stared off into the distance, lost in the memory. “I hid under my bed with my pillow over my ears to stop the yelling. I slept under my bed a lot. One night the yelling got so loud I couldn’t stand it and ran away. I just kept running until the yelling stopped. I didn’t know where I was. I didn’t know how to get back. A nice man found me and brought me to a home with lots of other kids like me.”
“Like you?”
“Our brains are faster. Sometimes so fast no one understands. Sometimes I don’t even understand,” he added and rolled his eyes, shrugging.
None of that explained why he thought his parents were gone. Another mental note he’d ask Jacob about later. “Must be hard, being so smart all the time.”
“It is.” He shoveled several slices of cheese alternated by sausage into his mouth and munched away, perfectly content.
“Does your brain ever get tired?”
“No.”
“How about when you’re tired?”
“It plays movies when I’m asleep.”
“Do you mean dreams?”
He shook his head. “No.”
This kid was something else. Aside from Jacob, he’d been the most interesting person to talk to here. “How long have you been at the Farm?”
“Since I was little.”
Lee chuckled. “You’re little now.”
“That’s just because you’re tall.”
“I don’t think it works that way.”
“Sure it does. If you had ten people all the same size, would you think they were tall? Or little?”
“I guess neither.”
“See?”
Lee laughed. “You know what? Your brain really does work faster.”
“I know.”
Lee stacked more sausage and cheese on a cracker. “How’d you end up at the Farm?”
“Hunter’s dad. He’s my friend.”
He’d given up trying to keep track of all the things he needed to ask Jacob about. He had a feeling he’d eventually figure it out. Knowing how Jacob felt about Kyle, protected the kid, he and Lee would care for the boy as they would their own child.
If, God willing, they had kids together someday.
Kyle hopped off the stool. “I want milk. Thirsty?”
“I’m fine.”
“I like you.”
Lee laughed. “Thanks.”
“Jacob likes you. He likes me, too. He protects me from the others.”
“Protects you how? Are they mean to you?” That seemed shocking. Even though Maria had a holier-than-thou attitude that grated on Jacob as well as Lee, if it came down to it, Jacob would
protect Maria with his life and vice versa. It was the code of an agent, Jacob called it.
Kyle returned with a tall glass of milk. He’d already consumed half the sausage and cheese, and went in for another stack of double meat, double cheese on a cracker. “They pick on me. It makes Jacob mad.”
“It makes me mad.”
“Are you always pissed, too?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Good.” He grabbed more food. “Wanna hear a story?”
Lee nodded, fascinated at how much he’d learned from someone who didn’t usually talk much. Tonight he was a little chatterbox.
“This one time Jacob got really mad right after he got here. Derek was picking on me and Jacob stopped him. He yelled and called him Jonathan. That’s not his name. It’s Derek. I asked him who Jonathan was and he disappeared for a really long time. It scared me so I never asked again.”
Lee had a feeling it’d take a long while before he peeled away all the layers protecting Jacob from the reality of that fatal day at the peer.
“What’s your real name?”
“Leland. Boring, right?” Lee bit into a piece of cheese.
“Leland is a rich person’s name. Are you rich?”
“I do okay.”
“I’m rich.”
He stopped chewing. “You are? From what?”
“Patience.” He shrugged, shook his head. “That’s not the right word. Parents.” He made a face and smacked his head. “No. No!”
“Patents?” he asked quickly, wanting to stop him from hitting himself.
He seemed to calm and nodded. “That’s the right word.” He munched on a piece of cheese. “Will you be my friend?”
“Yes, Kyle. I’ll be happy to be your friend.” He pushed away from the breakfast counter. “I’m full.”
“I’ll finish and put everything away. I’m used to it. Walsh says I cleanup all the food.”
Lee nodded. “You should probably get to bed after this.”
“Probably.”
“Goodnight, Kyle.”
“Goodnight, Leland.”
Damn, how he loved that kid. Lee walked down the hall and had almost made it to Jacob’s room when the lights in the kitchen went out, sending everything into darkness. No way could Kyle have finished and put everything away that fast. He probably didn’t want to stay up alone and went to bed, leaving out all the food. With a sigh, Lee turned to head back into the kitchen to put everything away.
That’s when he heard a scuffle followed by a gasp. “Who—mmph!”
Lee froze, his heart hammering in his chest. “Kyle?”
Nothing.
He sprinted into the kitchen, unable to see a thing in the inky darkness. “Kyle?”
He felt for the light.
“That won’t be necessary.”
A hand clasped down on Lee’s wrist and jerked his arm behind his back. Shit! Not another attack! “Kyle? Let me go! Kyle!”
“You are in no position to make demands.”
Lee stilled. He knew that voice, that accent. That really bad accent.
The lights came to life, and Lee squinted as he focused on a tall man with wavy blond hair and blue eyes. A man he’d known for years. “Branson? What are you doing here?”
His business partner flashed a grin. There was a time Lee found that smile charming as hell. Now that vicious smile put a maniacal curve to his lips and a malicious gleam in his eyes.
“Where is he? Where’s Kyle?”
“He’s fine.”
No. No! “What did you do?” When he didn’t answer, Lee asked, “Why are you here?”
“I’ve come for what’s mine.”
“I’m not yours.”
He laughed, the sound high and shrilling. “Oh please. Not everything is about you. You were simply a means to an end. It worked out quite nicely, actually.”
The realization slammed into Lee, and he sucked in a breath. “You used me?”
“Bravo, Lee, but let’s not dabble in the details right now. We have an appointment with destiny.” Branson nodded at the man holding Lee.
“Jaco—”Something slammed hard against the back of his head. The last thing he heard was the echo of his own scream before everything went black.
22
Jacob jolted awake, his heart hammering. Something was wrong. He felt it in his bones and reached for Lee.
And froze.
Where the hell was he?
He jumped out of bed and had his jeans on in one swift movement. Grabbing the sidearm he kept under his pillow, he snuck out of the room and down the hall, listening for any little noise out of place. When he reached the kitchen he slowed as his instincts took over.
Here. Something happened here. The faint scent of a man’s aftershave lingered in the air. Jacob lifted his nose and inhaled several times. Food. And something else, something he recognized. Strong. Metallic. His gut clenched.
He snapped his gaze to the sausage and cheese sitting on the cutting board and frowned. Someone’s late night snack was interrupted. Glancing around, he took a step forward and stopped when something crunched under his barefoot. Crackers scattered along the kitchen floor, but what really held his attention was the one covered in something red.
Jacob knelt and picked it up, bringing it to his nose. Blood. He stood and dropped the cracker onto the island as he continued to scour the area.
He spotted a few more drops by the backdoor. He reached down and ran his finger through a drop, rubbing it between his middle finger and thumb.
It was cold. They’d been gone for too long already.
“Shit,” he muttered and ran to his room, finished dressing and grabbed what he needed, and hurried back into the kitchen. “Walsh! Derek! Anyone!”
No answer. How many were already gone? Jacob swallowed down the worry and transformed it to concentrated rage. For what he was about to do, he needed to stay focused. Emotions couldn’t play a part in this. He had to be cold. Calculated. Deadly.
He had to be the monster he’d feared lived inside him all along.
How the hell had Sergio gotten the jump on them? Granted, the residents at the Farm weren’t frontline agents, but they weren’t stupid. There were several former agents here. They all should have picked up on any sort of danger closing in. Then again, Jacob had slept right through it, and he was spec ops.
A scream pierced the night and shivered up his spine. There was only one person who could scream like that. “Maria!”
“Jacob!”
He turned toward the sound of her cries. They were outside. How many were out there, he didn’t know. He had one shot at this, one split second to assess the situation before acting. He crouched to the side of the backdoor and reached for the knob. He braced himself when the door swung open.
Nothing. No gunfire. No shouting. He jerked his head forward, did a quick count, and pulled back. Five on the left. Three on the right. That he could see in the dark.
He fired from memory and checked again. Three on the left. One on the right. They returned fire, wasting precious ammo. Exactly what he counted on. When it fell silent, he did another quick assessment, memorized positions, and fired. Checking again, he confirmed none on the left. None on the right.
“Maria!” Martin’s panicked roar sent Jacob into motion, he rolled outside and came up, pistol in each hand.
And nearly got his ass blown off.
He dodged, weaved, and spun, using his shoulder to pivot himself up to hide behind one of Walsh’s prized rosebushes. He did a quick scan, spotting two henchmen flanking Maria. Where the hell had they been hiding? Martin stood not more than ten feet from them, his hands up. He was unarmed. They, however, weren’t.
“Martin,” Maria sobbed when one of the men ran the barrel of his gun down her cheek.
“Leave her alone!” Martin took a step toward them, then stopped as the one caressing his sister with a firearm turned it on him.
“Do you think TREX agents have nine lives?” the man ask
ed his counterpart.
“I’m not sure,” he replied and dug the barrel of his gun into Maria’s ribs. She whimpered and struggled against his grip.
“Maria.” Martin inched closer as his face pinched in emotion. He sucked on a sob. “What do I do?”
“Get out of here,” she cried. “Please, Martin. You have to get out of here.”
“I can’t leave you.”
“Don’t worry about me.” She sniffed and forced a smile through her tears. “I got this.” She grabbed the wrist of the man to her right, fighting him for control over the sidearm.
She didn’t see the other man, the one now behind her with his gun squared on the back of her head.
“Maria! No!” Martin screamed and launched at him.
“No!” Jacob screamed at the same time, rising to his feet and taking two very clear, very lethal shots, dropping both the men. The shot that came from one of the men as he fell to the ground didn’t register until he dropped.
“Martin!” Maria shrieked and sprinted to her brother, falling to her knees as she pulled him into her arms. The third shot. The one fired when the man’s finger twitched against the trigger, delivering a lethal shot between Martin’s eyes. “Martin! No!” She wailed as she collapsed to her brother’s chest. “No. No! Not you. Please, not you. Please God. No! Noooooooo!”
Jacob rushed to her side. When he reached for her, she pushed him away and howled, her grief sinking into him and digging a trail up his spine. He fell back, his dread realized. He’d failed. Goddamn it. He’d failed again. He swallowed over and over to keep his own grief in check.
“Why?” She turned her accusing glare to him. “Why him? He didn’t do anything wrong.” She sobbed and hugged her brother’s body. “He didn’t do anything wrong. Oh, Martin.”
Jacob’s dread grew to agonizing realization. He didn’t make it in time. He’d let them down. Martin was dead because he didn’t take the shots earlier. “Maria, I’m so sorry.”
“You get them, Jacob. I don’t care what you have to do. You get them. You make them pay for what they did to Martin.” She wailed, her grief uncontrollable. “You make them all pay.”
He eyed the two on the ground, both dead from single shots to the forehead. “They’re dead.”
“No.” She shook him as she struggled to breathe. “You get them all. They’re everywhere.”
Jacob Page 20