The Titan Series 1-3 Boxed Set
Page 67
Taking one long look at his car key, he popped open the hood again, instead of trying the ignition. He got out and checked the engine, knowing it would confirm his suspicion.
Missing spark plug. Well played, Sugar. Well played.
He paced in front of the Expedition and pulled out his phone. “What are you seeing?”
“Sugar’s at home. Her phone’s pinging at her address.”
“I bet.”
“Oh.” Parker cleared his throat. “So… are… you.”
Jared scrubbed his hand over his jaw. “So am I. Yup.”
“And Brock.”
The hairs on the back of his neck stood grenade-pin straight. “Brock?” Brock was nearby? What the hell is happening?
“Is everything okay?” Parker was typing in the background. “Brock’s moving. Obviously, you know that. Everyone else seems to be where I’d expect them to be.”
“Goddamn it.” He slammed the hood closed. Of all the scenarios playing out in his brain, not one of them was good. “Get to Sugar’s. Now.”
Parker hesitated. “Okay.”
“Tell no one where we are.”
“Sure thing, Boss Man.” Parker took a deep breath. “Honestly, whatever’s going on, I’m more useful at Titan. Give me a few, and I’m there. I’ve got limited access to whatever we might need here at my home. And nothing that’d be much help on the road.”
Jared got into his Expedition and tried the key in the ignition, knowing it would never turn over. Silence. No surprise there, given that his rig was missing a spark plug.
Parker was right. Jared needed him at Titan, using every resource they had. “Get to the office.”
Without waiting for agreement, he hung up and dialed Rocco.
A sleep-thickened voice answered. Or maybe it was a hung-over one. Jared didn’t care. “Rocco, need you at Sugar’s ASAP. Grab whatever gear you have. You need something, you call me. No one else. Radio silence.”
Rocco cleared his throat. “Wake up, um… babe. Gotta go.”
Christ. Jared didn’t have time for one night-stand, next-morning conversations. “Rocco, are we clear?”
“Roger that. See you in twenty.”
“And, Rocco? I’m trusting you. Until I don’t. Then I kill.”
***
Headlights flashed in Sugar’s rearview mirror. Damn it. What’d Jared do, travel with extra spark plugs? She wouldn’t put it past him, but it was a stretch. Tapping her fingers on the leather steering wheel, she became more furious over his murder accusation with each passing mile.
More headlights flashed. She glanced at the speedometer. She was going at least seventy in a forty-five, then slowed a little. “Just pass me. No one’s coming.” She waved to the mirror as if the driver behind could see her.
The horn honked, and she slowed down to the sixties, hoping the driver would pass her. She’d had enough of ego-centric pricks for the evening, and her mood was only worsening. It would be in this guy’s best interest to go away.
Horn, again.
Sugar squinted and studied the rearview, then side mirrors. That was a truck, but not an Expedition. Strangers would’ve passed. Jared would’ve run her off the road. Her gut said call J-dawg, but her brain reminded her that she’d purposely left her cell phone by the back door.
Double whammy: Lights and honks.
She knew the two-lane highway better than most. No lights. No gas stations. Nothing that would say, “Hey, pull over here. It’s safe.”
Instead, she slammed the gas pedal to the floorboard. No point in having a baby like her ’69 Mustang if she couldn’t make the horses run. Power coursed through the muscle car and through her blood. The roar of the engine made her smile, even if her nerves would ask for a puke break.
The truck was losing steam. She rounded the serpentine turns with ease. A thrill of excitement made her tighten her hands on the wheel, flexing her fingers.
She took a breath as the lights flashed in her mirror again. The truck had caught up and was keeping pace.
Screw this.
Five hundred yards up, an empty commuter lot sat vacant. She floored it, pulled a hard left, and spun into the parking lot. Rocks flew. Tires smoked, and the burnt smell wafted into the car.
The truck was either going to pass her, or it wasn’t. But she was prepared for the abrupt stop, and the other driver wasn’t.
Hanging on through the g-force, she came to stop, facing oncoming lane—and the truck, which slammed on the brakes, screeching into the parking lot.
So that’s how it’s going to be. Fine with me, asshole.
She reached behind her and pulled out a loaded M2 tactical rifle. Nothing like firepower when the going gets sketchy. Throwing open the door, she positioned her body behind it, aiming the barrel over her side-view mirror.
The truck door opened.
“Go the fuck away, and you won’t die tonight.” Her finger caressed the trigger as she squinted for any recognition in the dark.
One boot, then the other landed in the gravel.
Bam! She fired a warning shot a few feet from the boots. “Get lost.”
“Sugar.”
The voice struck her as familiar, but she couldn’t place it through her exhaustion and adrenaline. She pumped again, readying another round. “Go. Away.”
“Damn it, Sugar. Just doing my job.”
She couldn’t see anything but a silhouette. “Kill your lights, or I’ll shoot them out.”
The man leaned over and turned out his headlights. “Take it easy, Sugar. It’s just me.” Brock walked around the corner of his door, his arms in the air. “Don’t shoot. I’d never live it down.”
Brock? He might be super important in the land of Titan, but the guy gave her the creeps. “What are you doing out here?”
He nudged his truck door shut like she didn’t have an itchy trigger finger. So casual and carefree. “What do you think I’m doing out here?”
“Jared sent you?”
“Given whatever you did to his Expedition, seems plausible that I ended up on find-Sugar duty, doesn’t it?”
Jared was going to tan her hide after she’d messed with his car. She didn’t realize he could get someone lickety-split to track her down. Only fuckin’ Titan. What do they do, hang out together in pairs for moments like these?
“Look, Brock.” She tossed the gun into her car. Brock lowered his hands as he approached. The night had been such a headache, and she needed sleep. Or time alone with her thoughts. Something. “I need time by myself. Okay? Don’t want to deal with your boss man. Don’t want to deal with Kip Pearson. I just need some time to think. Okay?”
“We both know I can’t do that.” He shrugged.
“This again?” Mixing up with Titan was like hanging with a bunch of bullies. They threw their weight around to get what they wanted. “Tell Jared to screw off. I’m a grown damn woman. He can’t keep sending you to find me and drag me home.”
Brock stepped closer, and she shivered. A cold sweat broke out on her neck. Something was wrong. Brock’s creep factor shot sky-high and kept going. Time for a new approach. “Fine. We’ll drive back to my place. You can ride my tail the whole way to make sure I don’t run off again.”
“No can do, Sugar.” Brock closed into her personal space. “One car.”
Warning alarms screamed down her spine. “Back. The. Hell. Up.”
His fist wrapped around her bicep, just as it had in Abu Dhabi. The bruise he’d left before flared under his grip. “Hard or easy way, Sugar. Your call.”
A silver glint caught her eye. In his free hand, he held a syringe. Sugar stumbled back, then kicked for a groin shot. “No! No, no!”
Brock’s hand tightened on her bicep, ripping her away as she tried to pull herself into her car. Knife in my purse. Rifle on the seat. She clawed and reached, letting him rip her arm out of its socket. Her heels kicked out, jabbing but losing footing. Just another couple of inches, and—
No! A sharp sting bit into h
er leg, followed by a slow burn. She stilled, looking down at the needle hanging from her thigh. Her head, suddenly so heavy, tilted. She couldn’t keep her eyelids open.
“Gave you a choice.” He released her bicep, and gravity dragged her to the blacktop.
The horizon became fuzzy. Her mouth filled with cotton. Her tongue was too thick, and her lips tingled. “Fuck… you.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Brock’s truck rumbled over the rocky back road that led to Buck Baer’s mountain hideaway. His excitement surged, despite his deal with the devil. Soon, Brock would have his wife and children by his side, and they would walk out after handing over Sugar.
That part killed him, but sometimes, the end was worth the means. His family was worth everything.
He knew he would have to get them all out of the States because Jared would come looking for his blood. He wouldn’t hurt Brock’s wife or kids, but he saw no need for them to see his bloodshed.
Love and family were at the center of his world. They were why he existed. His gut churned, and he popped another handful of Tums into his mouth. He’d kept his family’s existence a secret because of things exactly like his debacle with Baer. The life Brock chose kept them in constant danger. There would always be an enemy hell-bent on revenge or a rival willing to use his family for strategic gain. It was the same reason Winters had hidden Clara from the world before Mia came along.
He’d been scared of the possibilities, and the cloak of invisibility seemed the safest route. No one knew about them, and that was best.
“Damn it.” He slapped the steering wheel as he maneuvered around a corner. He’d done everything right, and everything was still a mess.
He knew in his gut how dangerous falling for a woman and starting a family was. He hadn’t been careful enough. Keeping his family life secret had never seemed self-centered, until the phone call from Buck Baer. Then it was clear—he was the most selfish prick to walk the planet.
Enough with the melodrama. He had a plan. Always a contingency. Today’s game day. He had enough money in an offshore account to take Sarah and the kids someplace quiet, where Jared would never go. Far away from everything they knew…
Walking away from Titan would hurt almost as much as having his family taken. He’d been with Jared for years, since Boss Man had recruited him a decade ago, straight out of the military. He’d said he saw potential in Brock. At the time, that’d been funny because Brock had thought he was top dog. Damn if Jared didn’t show me how to excel.
Brock glanced at Sugar slumped in her seat. “Jared’ll know the score soon enough. Smart bastard.”
It wouldn’t take Jared long to piece together the night and to figure out that Sugar’s escape hadn’t ended well. Why was she running anyway? Brock hadn’t expected many of the things he discovered when he’d arrived at her place. Jared’s truck in the driveway. The lights on in her living room. Sugar sneaking out. Her jacking Boss Man’s Expedition. Maybe fate was trying to help his family.
After an hour of driving on back roads into the mountains, Brock pulled up to a garage door, and it opened. He gave the truck a squeeze of gas, proceeding slowly into the darkness. The smooth asphalt driveway continued underneath Baer’s compound, dropping him below the surface. The garage clamored shut, and not for the first time, Brock wished that one of the Titan guys was with him on this op.
Hell, it’s not an op. It’s a trade. A hostage negotiation. Why Baer needed it to go down like this, when Sugar was willing to walk straight into his lair, Brock didn’t know. Didn’t care. Just needed his family back.
At the bottom of the incline, a tall, broad man waited, his arms dangling by his side. He looked like a gym rat who was too old for his self-tanner that looked orange under the florescent lights.
Brock rolled his window down. “Baer.”
“Where’s Sugar?”
“Right there.” He leaned back, gesturing to the woman leaned against the opposite door.
Baer took a step forward, his eyes searching over Brock’s shoulder. “What’s wrong with her?”
“She’s knocked out. Made for an easier delivery.”
A cruel, too-white smile flashed across Baer’s face. “Impressive.”
He looked around the parking area. “Where’s my family?”
“Park your truck, grab Sugar, and we’ll go check in on everybody.”
Brock ignored the urge to kill Baer right there, in his parking lot. “Much rather drop my load and pick up what’s mine.”
“You’re not calling the shots here. I’ll tell you one more time, park and follow me. Sugar in tow.”
“Goddamn it.” Brock slipped into the nearest spot and slammed the gearshift into park.
Baer laughed and walked away, toward an elevator. Brock stuffed the keys into his back pocket and snagged the limp Sugar. This wasn’t going according to his plan. Titan had never had hostage negotiations go like this, but that was okay. He would do what it took to save his family.
Still, this wasn’t how he’d pictured the exchange taking place. None of the scenarios he’d imagined involved trapping his truck below ground and hoofing it with Sugar slung over his shoulder.
They reached the elevator, and Baer held it open. “She’s a feisty one, isn’t she?”
Feisty? Sugar was the living, breathing definition of the word. “You could have let her come in on her own. You sure as fuck didn’t need to take my family. So let’s cut the small talk.”
“To have her come in on her own? What fun would that be?”
Brock shifted Sugar to a better position. Baer hit G2. They were on G1, and he wished they were headed above ground, not farther below.
“I assume you’re armed in some capacity.” Baer scrolled through his phone. “When we get to the holding area, you can disarm. One of my men will check.”
“If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather just head the hell home. I have no interest in games or gunplay. A fair trade, just like you requested. Then our business is done.”
The doors opened to G2. The long hallway smelled like pancakes and bacon. Behind one of the closed doors, Brock heard his kids playing. His heart swelled. The urge to run toward the sound made his muscles twitch.
“Almost done. I have one more request of you, then we’re done.”
Almost done? Bullshit. Brock saw red. The lights, the hallway, everything was coated in blood-red fury. He launched toward Buck Baer, ready to kill him. Two men came from the shadows, pulling him back. He almost dropped Sugar.
Baer laughed. “Almost done. Don’t worry, Brock. You have one more task to complete before they’re all yours.”
His teeth slammed together. Pressure building in his head threatened to explode. “I will kill you.”
“Not before I kill them. So listen up. I’ll ruin Titan Group. Think of it like a life goal. An item on my asshole bucket list. It’s within reach. I can taste Jared’s fall from greatness.” Baer snorted. “Jared will lose his goddamn mind. His life’s work and his girl? Not even that prick can handle that type of destruction.”
Brock’s chest ached for Jared and Sugar. “No one said anything about her being his girl. If that’s what you’re after, you’re wrong.”
Baer laughed. “That line of bullshit is too late. No reason lying. I already promised your family’s safe return. Forget about what happens to your friend Sugar. It’s a justifiable trade. Don’t lose any sleep.”
“She’s nothing to him.” Shit, let him believe that. Brock was turning her over to die. He knew that. But if she was to be a playtoy in this Baer-Jared game, there was no telling what she would go through before she hit lights-out for good. And God forbid his wife ever found out what he’d done to save their family. She wouldn’t understand. She didn’t know how much blood had coated his hands over the years, even if it had been for a greater good.
“No, I can tell these things. This one is special. And it’ll be my pleasure to take that from him, too.”
Brock shrugged,
trying to seem indifferent. His heart sank, the guilt eating away his fortitude. “Believe what you want. Final job, what’s it going to be?”
He produced a small envelope from his back pocket. “This is a USB drive. All you have to do is get to a computer terminal inside Titan’s main building and plug it in.”
Brock took the envelope and peeked inside. “What’s it do?”
“Christ. Does it matter? Do your job. I’ll know immediately if you have, and your family will be returned to you.”
Brock’s heart pounded. He couldn’t believe he was betraying Jared this way, after everything that man had done for him and trusted him with. He pinched the bridge of his nose. Brock was helping ruin the man he most revered.
There was nothing that he wouldn’t do for his woman and children. If that meant playing Buck Baer’s game, than he would play.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Jared cracked his knuckles while manning the range in Sugar’s kitchen. He needed something to do with his hands since he didn’t have enough intel to act on. If he couldn’t kill, he would cook while scrutinizing every detail he had.
Brock’s cell phone had suddenly turned off. No signal. No blips. Nothing. The hotel attack reeked of an informant after no listening devices had turned up. GSI had known where to hit and when. Brock had been outside Sugar’s house for an unknown reason, and then he’d taken off after her. Parker had found her Mustang abandoned in a parking lot. Jared had nothing to go on.
After Rocco had arrived, Jared had laid out his suspicions. Neither had said a word since.
Waiting for intel normally wasn’t a problem. Good intel meant a good operation and a high success rate. But this wasn’t typical, and Jared was emotionally invested.
Flipping the bacon in a skillet, he ignored the kitchen clock that had ticked every minute, reminding him that he didn’t have a plan. He flipped the bacon again and again. Trying to ignore the passing time wasn’t working.
Sugar would be more pissed than scared. Right? She never saw the gravity of circumstances. Someone might want to kill her, but she would be more upset that they’d screwed her out of a good night’s sleep. Chances were better that she had Brock by the balls, antagonizing him and making the situation worse—as long as she hadn’t gotten herself killed. Talk about a beauty with a dangerous attitude problem. Fuck, man, where’s my intel?