by Cara Carnes
“Mary, listen to me.”
“You fucking idiot, of course I have everything in place. Who the hell do you think I am? She’ll go where I fucking lead her, just like you wanted. Why do you have such a hard-on for the Masons anyway? Kill the bratty sister, and we’re clear. Kill the geeks, and we’ve got everything. Billions.”
“Jesus, come back to me, Mary.”
“No. I can’t go back. I can’t go back. I can’t go back.”
Blackness enveloped her.
“SIT DOWN BEFORE YOU fall down,” Marshall growled.
Dylan stumbled into a chair, somewhat aware of the men gathering around him. The women huddled in the corner, whispering through their tears. Addy stood in the center, unsure where she fit. Logan and Doctor Parsons both responded to the 911 text he’d sent out.
Mary’s screams filled his head, phantom terrors shredding his insides. Jesus, she hadn’t even heard him. She’d been there, but in a totally different world, another time. But not herself. Confusion and blind rage rode him hard. If not for the dozen or so men gathered around the only exit, he would’ve gone into the basement and beaten answers from Driggs.
People needed a read in. Some of the things she’d been saying. Jesus.
He swiped his hand down his face and waited for the anger to choke out the helplessness. He’d been right there. Nothing helped.
“Take these.”
The gruff order startled him. Logan held two pills in his hand.
Dylan ignored them and took a step forward. “How is she?”
“Take these, then we’ll talk.”
“I’m not taking a damn thing until you tell me how she is and I see her.”
“We have her sedated, she’s resting.” Logan looked around as the audience of one became over a dozen.
Vi, Addy, Rhea, and Bree wrapped arms around Dylan, clinging as if he could keep them centered. They had no fucking clue he’d shattered into a million pieces hours ago, when Mary’s first screams filled the air.
“What happened?” Addy asked.
“Every trauma victim handles the situation differently. Mary bottles things up. She’s emotionally closed off from most everyone, so the one therapy session she had with Doctor Parsons didn’t scratch the surface.” Regret filled Logan’s gaze. “Best we can guess from what little she said when she came around, Dylan out there, almost getting hurt on top of him capturing Driggs and having the bastard at the compound. It was too much to bottle up.”
“Is that the official medical term for it?” Dallas asked dryly. “Thanks for dumbing it down.”
“Today’s mission too closely symbolized portions of the traumatic event which caused her PTSD, specifically her kidnapping and subsequent torture and rape,” Logan explained. “She appears to have suffered from flashbacks but also had a dissociative reaction.”
“She thought the event was recurring,” Rhea added. Her face paled. “Poor Mary.”
“Just a heads up, Parsons is pissed.” Logan’s jaw twitched. “We should’ve both been consulted before Mary started in operations again. I never would’ve cleared her to work on anything where contact with Driggs was a possibility, not until she’s moved through her therapy enough to have the tools she needs to handle the repercussions.”
“What now?” Dylan asked.
“We wait for her to wake and take it from there. Parsons believes she’ll bounce back since she has a strong support system in place. She didn’t trust her in the sessions, and we doubt she will anytime soon. For whatever reason, she’s bonded to you, Dylan. That means you are her safety net. Not the only one, but she trusted you to handle the fallout when she blew.”
“I couldn’t get through. She was there but she wasn’t.”
“I heard enough when we arrived to know you did better than you realize. Doctor Parsons will want to talk with you, make sure you’re okay.” Logan looked around, then lowered his voice. “Now’s the time if this isn’t serious. You can walk away, and we’ll make the cut as clean as it can be for her, before she gets any deeper into you.”
“I’ll let that one slide because I know you’ve got her best interests at heart. Suggest I make a clean cut from her again, and we’ll have a problem, spook.” Dylan crossed his arms. “Can I see her?”
“She’s sedated.”
“Fine.” He looked over his shoulder at his brothers. “I’ll be with Mary. Text me if something comes up.”
Vi stepped forward, followed him halfway down the hall before he realized she had no intention of turning around.
“Go with the others, Vi. I’ll let you know when she wakes.”
“No. I’m staying. With you.” She wound her hands together and peered up with huge, nervous eyes. “She wouldn’t want you alone. I—I heard the recording.”
“Recording?”
“From the hall. The camera caught it. It was pretty soft, but HERA cleaned it up. The door was still open enough for the sound to...” She stopped and looked away. “Anyway, you shouldn’t be alone.”
Dylan appreciated the gesture, even though he didn’t want the company. He entered the room and took sentry at Mary’s bedside. Vi claimed the large, recliner-style chair in the corner. Tears filled her gaze, but she made no move toward the bed, as if sensing he needed time alone with her.
He ran his hand across her forehead and noted how pale she seemed. How weak.
Defenseless.
He unholstered his gun and set it on the hospital serving table. Vi gulped but didn’t say anything. If anyone so much as blinked wrong in Mary’s direction, he’d shoot first and ask questions later.
“You’re safe, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”
“WHAT HAPPENED?”
Dylan roused as Riley shook his shoulder. He glanced over at the bed. Someone had left her hands uncovered again. Didn’t they see how cold she was? He settled the blanket on her, tucking her in tight enough she’d feel secure if she woke too quickly.
He glanced at the clock. Four in the morning. “What are you doing in here? You should be asleep.”
“Don’t tell me where I should be, Dylan Mason. Why the hell am I just now hearing about Mary? What happened? Rhea and Bree came up to the house and were a mess. Mom’s beside herself. She’s coming in fully armed in a couple hours, just so you know.”
“Great.”
“Stow the attitude. What happened?”
“I fucked up,” he admitted. “We had a line on some intel related to the guys who tried to take you. Mary was supposed to go with me, but I left without her. She ran the op from here.”
“Okay, I see how she’d be a bit pissed about that, but I don’t understand what that has to do with her here.” Riley pulled a brush from a bag she was carrying. “In case you want to brush her hair, or something.”
Dylan brushed Mary’s hair and let the innocuous activity chew some of the guilt rising in him. He should’ve talked to Logan, made sure she was okay.
“I didn’t clear it with Logan. Something about the mission, either me in danger or Driggs being there unexpectedly, caused an attack.”
“She’s sedated?” Riley asked.
“Yeah, they’re hoping she’ll be better when she wakes.”
“That new woman—she’s a shrink, right? Mary talk to her yet?”
“Yeah, once. Didn’t accomplish much.”
“It’ll take time. Opening up to a stranger isn’t going to happen, not with someone so closed off from her own emotions. She’s a robot, you know? She has lists of things that should happen. Work’s first. I’m not saying that’s bad, it helps her cope with whatever she’s had bottled up, but it doesn’t take a shrink to see it’s there.”
“You know a lot about this.” Dylan leaned back in the chair and studied his little sister.
She wasn’t the little girl she’d once been. She’d turned into a remarkable woman who left half Resino trembling when she got upset about something. They’d been so busy with Arsenal business lately they’d lost touch with how things
were going.
“You mentioned something about Rachelle when we spoke last. She why you know so much about shrinks?”
“My friend’s not crazy,” Riley hissed through clenched teeth. “Don’t you dare say shit like that around Mary. Just because someone needs help processing their emotions and getting through tough times doesn’t mean they’re crazy. You have no idea how easy you’ve had it, having five brothers to bounce your troubles off of. Some people need a leg up, someone to reach out and offer a hand. No one ever held anything out for Rachelle. She’s fought and scraped for every second of normal and happy she’s squeezed out of the shit life dealt to her.”
“I’m sorry, Riles. I didn’t mean anything by it. I was concerned, that’s all. What’s going on?”
“You know she had problems with the guy she went out with? Wayne Smythe?”
“Yeah, that was a while back, right? He’s Hailey’s cousin. I remember her mentioning him being pissed at Rachelle for dumping him.”
“Right, I’ll just let comments about that bitch simmer for a few days.” Riley looked down at Mary. “Rachelle and Mary are fighting the same demons right now. Rachelle’s just farther down the road and had to go it alone. She didn’t have an army at her side, armed to the teeth to give her a leg up.”
“What the hell do you mean?” Dylan asked, his gut clenched as he leaned forward. “You saying Wayne hurt her?”
“I’m not just saying it, Dylan. I freaking said it repeatedly and none of you commando brothers of mine gave enough of a flying damn about what’s going on in your own backyard to stop and listen. It’s not just Rachelle. Something really weird’s going on, and she’s terrified. Hell, I’m terrified.”
“When the dust with Mary’s stuff settles, we’ll talk. I want to know what’s going on so we can help.”
“Okay, good.” Riley smiled and motioned toward the bed. “She’s a good catch. I didn’t think you had it in you. You were always the shy, quiet one.”
Dylan chuckled. “Fortunately, that’s her type.”
“Keep her close. Rachelle...” Riley swallowed. Tears formed in her eyes. “Don’t walk away from her, not now when she needs you the most.”
“You’re the second one to imply I’d walk out on her. I’m not liking that.”
“She’ll push you away. She’ll push everyone far, far away until she’s a ghost walking, a husk of what she once was. Don’t let her. Hang on tight. That’s what she wants, even if she’s too scared to admit it.”
“Riles, honey, you know you can tell me anything, right?”
She swiped her eyes and rose from the bed. “Sorry, it’s been a long night. I’m gonna crash, get a few hours rest before Mom storms the castle. I’ll be around to check on Mary in a few hours. Remember what I said. She’ll wake fighting. She’s a lot like Rachelle.”
“Honey, stay. We’ll talk about her and what’s messing you up.”
“Later, Dylan. You’re exactly where you’re needed most. I’ve got everything under control. If I need you, I know where you’ll be.”
“Any of us, Riles. You mean more to us than The Arsenal and everyone else here.”
“Not everyone,” she whispered with a knowing grin. “Take care of her, Dylan.”
His gut twisted as she headed out the door. “Riles.”
“Yeah?”
“Doctor Parsons, the new head shrink. Get Rachelle out here. She’ll take her on. She’s a PTSD specialist. Logan swears she’s the best.”
She nodded and left. Dylan leaned back and stifled the curse rising in his throat. He’d have a chat with Marshall in the morning. They needed more attention focused on their backyard problems. If someone was messing with anyone in Resino and the local cops weren’t doing their job, it was on them to police the situation.
The Masons and Burtons represented the town’s interests. The two largest ranch families in the county, they hired locals and kept as much of their supply purchases and whatnot local as they could. It was what their ancestors did, how Resino came to be.
Dylan should’ve listened to Riley. She wore Rachelle’s pain as her own. The world was a violent place. They’d started The Arsenal to make a difference, an impact.
Warrior’s Path was a good start, but maybe they should be doing more. He leaned back and closed his eyes. A couple hours rest would help ease the tension headache forming.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“This is so embarrassing, Mrs. Mason. I promise I’m okay. Really. You don’t have to sit here with me. As soon as Logan steps in this door, I’m going to be out of here.”
Mary hoped. She’d woken a few moments ago and found Dylan’s mom sitting in the chair near her. Knitting.
The sheet was tucked around her tight. She tugged, then froze when she realized she might hurt the woman’s feeling if she’d rolled her like a burrito.
“You have a beautifully expressive face, my dear.” She grinned. “Dylan used to tuck Riley in like that, said it kept her safe from the monsters.”
Warmth flooded her belly. Dylan was here?
“He’s been here the whole time. I’m going to catch hell because I made him leave and shower. Told him he didn’t want to look like a filthy mongrel when you woke.”
Mary laughed. “I’m afraid I don’t remember much. Why am I here?”
A softness settled across her face. “I’m thinking you don’t need to worry about that. Dylan and that nice doctor will be in soon. You sit back and rest. Are you hungry? Oh, I know.”
She rose and wheeled a tray over to the bedside. She clucked her tongue and picked up the massive handgun, doing the whole checking to make sure it was loaded thing, and set it on the bedside table.
“He insisted we keep that handy,” she commented as she poured icy water from a pitcher. “Here, sip slowly, dear. We wouldn’t want you to get sick.”
She sipped from the straw until the entire small glass was gone. Smiling her gratitude, she looked around the room and wondered how long she’d been there. She wiggled her toes, slowly working her way physically up her body.
“Well, look who decided to join the land of the awake again.” Logan strolled in, Dylan hot on his heels.
Her pulse quickened. Machines beeped. Heat crept up her cheeks as Mrs. Mason chuckled at her side. She reached over and patted Mary on the shoulder, then winked.
That did not just happen.
Dylan Mason was too handsome for his own good. A dark green shirt hugged his muscular frame. Tucked into jeans he filled out like a second skin. Droplets hung from the tips of his slightly longer than typical hair.
“You couldn’t even run a towel over your head? You’re going to catch a cold,” his mom commented.
Dylan ignored the woman and sat on the bed beside Mary. He leaned down and feathered a kiss across her mouth, so soft and delicious she curled her toes and sighed into the contact.
Logan cleared his throat. “I see you’re feeling okay.”
“Sorry, Doc,” she whispered as she uncovered her good hand and took Dylan’s. “Why am I here?”
“You don’t remember anything from last night? When Dylan came back from San Antonio?”
“I remember the mission, the fact he was coming back. But he was late. Vi wouldn’t let me call him again, said I was starting to look like a stalker.” Mary forced a smile, but her heart thudded.
“What else do you remember?” he asked gently.
She flashed a fearful look at Dylan. Something was wrong. Terribly wrong. “I—I think he came back. And I was so worried and...”
She’d jumped him.
“I was a bit overexcited,” she admitted.
“I’ll just step out, dear,” Mrs. Mason said.
“No, stay. I—I’m not sure what happened, but I’m sure you know more than I do. It’s okay.”
“Doctor Parsons would probably handle the explanation better,” Logan said.
“I don’t know her. Please, just tell me.”
“The mission caused enough emotion
al distress that you went into a flashback, one where you thought the events were recurring, but with Dylan instead of you.” Logan leaned forward and set his clipboard on the edge of the bed.
“I was worried Driggs would get him, like he did me.” She stared at Dylan in shock. “I was scared. I’m sorry.”
“Sweetheart, there’s nothing for you to be sorry about, but you worried a lot of people. Doctor Parsons thinks you need to take a few weeks away from operations, just until you’ve gotten further into your treatment.”
“No.” Mary shook her head. “I won’t quit.”
“You aren’t quitting, just taking a break. Everyone needs a vacation every now and then. When was the last time you took a day off from being The Edge? The voice on the com who solves any problem, no matter how tough?” Logan asked.
“That’s what I do. I work. Without work, I’m not anything.”
“I’m taking some time away, too. We’ll check out the ranch, Resino. I’m sure Mom has a mile-long list of things she wants done at the house.” Dylan smiled, but it didn’t quite touch his eyes.
“He doesn’t get to take that away from me,” she gritted out, angered by the decision they’d made without her. “Martin Driggs took the only good man who cared about me from my life. He murdered Peter. He was like a brother. Family. He pulled me out of hell, gave me a purpose for breathing. He needed me. And he died. Because I nosed around. Saw too much.”
“Driggs was dirty, neck-deep in whatever bullshit he started. Peter’s death isn’t on you,” Dylan said. “Neither is any of the rest of it.”
“He thought I’d break, give him anything he wanted.” Mary squeezed Dylan’s hand. “I didn’t. I didn’t even consider it. I knew what he’d do with the technology, the stuff I’d gathered about him.”
“You did the right thing, you fought and won. We have Driggs in custody. We’ll find out who his boss is and end this, avenge Peter’s death.” Dylan took her by the neck and leaned in, almost close enough to kiss, but not quite. “Let someone else carry it the rest of the way, Mary. You’ve done the heavy lifting long enough. Let us help.”