My body felt cold and my stomach swirled again. I wasn’t sure what Aiden was implying, but it sure as hell sounded like he was beginning to think the guys who worked for this company, including Dr. Garrett himself, didn’t have anything to do with the resurrection of Liam Carmichael. And that wasn’t an answer I was willing to accept.
“Well,” I deflected, “now you know not everyone from my planet is a total asshole.”
I could see Aiden literally waving me off. “I already knew that.”
Um… Bella? Maybe the jackass actually has a point.
Don’t call him that, I warned. I doubted it would do any good. If I didn’t find these files or avenge his murder or do whatever the hell I was supposed to do, I would be haunted by my husband’s ghost for a long time and I was already growing weary of his constant resentment toward Aiden.
And really, if you’ve never been haunted, I’ll fill you in on a not-so-secret secret: any amount of time is too long.
Ok, he relented, but if you think about it…
No, I interrupted. They experimented on you. They experimented on Lottie. Why else would they have killed you? Why would they want her dead so badly they risked pissing off one of the most powerful intelligence agencies in the world?
I don’t know about Lottie, but they always insisted I’d done something to bring Liam back and they wanted to know how I’d done it. When that didn’t give them the answers they wanted, they made me retell my earliest memories dozens of times, hoping I remembered something before waking up in that room in Waco, like something went wrong when I was healing the body and I might remember it.
If they didn’t do it, then something had to have gone wrong.
That’s what I thought, too, but…
Something didn’t heal properly, Mason, I snapped. That’s all there is to it. Or maybe it’s Liam’s fault. Why doesn’t anyone ever blame them? Maybe this boy was just too damn stubborn to die like a normal person.
Yeah, I had totally just blamed a dead guy for not dying properly.
I… don’t even know what that means, Mason admitted.
It means we’re going to drop it.
But maybe Lottie and I were chosen…
“I said drop it!” I yelled aloud. I startled Aiden who turned the lamp on between us. Actually, I think I startled us all.
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered although I wasn’t quite sure if that apology was for Aiden or Mason or both.
“Should we just get up?” Aiden asked, glancing at the clock. It wasn’t even four a.m. yet.
I shook my head and apologized again, promising him he could turn off the light and I would let him sleep.
As the room fell back into darkness, I pulled the covers higher around me and closed my eyes.
Please don’t ever say that again, Mason. The only people who might have chosen you are the same ones we trusted to provide us new lives here. And they are the ones who will pay for not giving us what was ours.
Maybe you’re right, Bella. Sleep now. If any of my memories disturb you again, I’ll try to wake you.
But I knew that tone, the quick change of subject, the inherent hope that I could be placated.
Mason didn’t really believe anyone had brought Liam back from death – not Dr. Garrett, not Liam, not even Mason himself. If he were right, if he and Lottie had been chosen, then it left few possibilities and none of them were possibilities I could acknowledge, let alone explore.
In the end, I could only offer Mason one promise anyway: why Liam had been resurrected was far less important than what these men had done to Mason because of it, and every last bastard who had a hand in his brutal murder would soon learn that being a woman no longer meant I was helpless and disposable. Starting now, every single one of them would die at my hands.
Chapter 12
Mario pulled up a screen on his computer and showed Aiden and me the layout of James Barker’s neighborhood, including where he lived and who his neighbors were, even how many dogs they had in their backyards. It was incredibly unnerving so to pretend I wasn’t bothered by how easily they could produce so much information on a person, I did the only thing I could: I acted like a total smartass.
“What’s the chocolate lab’s name?” I asked.
Mario never looked up from his keyboard. “Cocoa. And no, I’m not joking.”
I glanced at Aiden who just shrugged at me. “I have no control over what people name their pets.”
Yeah, because the name was what bothered me, not how quickly Mario answered my question about something I thought he wouldn’t know about a neighbor of the guy whose house we were about to break into.
I crossed my arms and scowled at Aiden, but I was only messing with him. “Does the CIA prosecute people for animal cruelty? This probably qualifies.”
Aiden snorted and shook his head. “Not our job. I have a friend in the FBI though… if you promise not to tell Eric.”
“About the friend or the dog?” I asked.
“Both. But mostly, the friend.”
“Is this some kind of turf war I don’t understand?”
Mario shook his head and answered me but still didn’t look up from his computer. “Nope. We’re not even playing on the same turf. We just don’t like them. The FBI is where those who aren’t cut out for the CIA go, although I have no idea why Aiden has a friend there. I think that might be treason.”
Aiden flipped him off then added, “That and they had a few high profile fuck-ups a couple of decades ago.”
Mario nodded and his fingers finally stopped clicking across the keyboard. He sat back in his chair, causing it to protest with an irate squeak, and pointed to the monitor. “Be interesting to find out why Barker moved from New York. Maybe it had something to do with his former torturer becoming his boss. But being in a suburb of Orlando will make this a hell of a lot easier.”
I shot Aiden a hopeful look. “I’ve never been to Disney World.”
“Me either. To be honest, Mickey Mouse kinda freaks me out.”
I gaped at him but Mario ignored us. “He’s not home. Assuming he follows his normal routine, you’ve got about three hours before he gets there. There’s something weird here because it seems like not only was Andrews promoted, but Barker was actually demoted. Look at the security of his place. It’s basic home security. I’ve already got it disabled.”
Johnson finally stirred in his chair and tossed the magazine he’d been reading, or at least pretending to read, on the table. “Let’s go then. Tearing apart houses is my favorite part and we’re wasting time.”
I blinked at him but he was already heading toward the door. Aiden just smiled at me. “It is pretty fun to tear all that shit apart.”
I rolled my eyes and pushed him toward the door.
We’d flown into Orlando the morning I’d woken up from the nightmare about Mason being burned with some kind of hot iron. After a brief consultation with his partners, they had each decided to start with Barker since it seemed he would be easier to access right now. By that afternoon, we’d landed in central Florida, and by the following morning, we were en route to the man’s house who had ordered the imprisonment and torture and, most likely, the murder of my husband.
Driving out to his house in a fairly modern, middle-class subdivision, I vacillated between trying to pay attention to Johnson and Aiden’s conversation and trying to converse with Mason in my own head. Both conversations were driving me nuts but for completely different reasons.
Johnson and Aiden were arguing good-naturedly about the possibility of the Vikings making it into the playoffs during the upcoming football season, which is how I learned Johnson was from Minnesota, and Mason was freaking out about confronting the man who had spent weeks making his life a living Hell. He wanted to just kill him and leave, but even I knew it couldn’t be that easy.
I leaned forward from the backseat of the Toyota Camry Johnson had picked up from somewhere and shut up all the voices drowning me. “Did you steal this car?”<
br />
Johnson glanced over his shoulder at me, his dark brown eyes laughing, and nodded seriously. “Yep. Some dumbass left the keys in the ignition at the 7/11 by the hotel.”
“Oh, well in that case, they totally deserved it,” I responded.
“Why doesn’t anyone who drives something like a Lamborghini leave the keys in the ignition?” Aiden asked.
“If they can afford a Lamborghini, they’re probably not a dumbass,” Johnson pointed out.
“Conceded,” Aiden said.
“That’s his house,” Johnson said, pointing to a non-descript beige stucco ranch style home on the right. “Open the garage.”
Aiden picked up his cell phone and unlocked it, then entered some sort of code into what I assumed must be one of his super-secret-spy apps. I was more than a little surprised when the garage door actually opened for us, and Johnson was able to pull into Barker’s garage. Aiden closed the door behind us, and they both climbed out of the car like it wasn’t absolutely astonishing that they’d just opened a guy’s electric garage door with a cellphone.
I followed them into the garage and grabbed Aiden’s arm as Johnson approached the door into Barker’s home. “Hold up,” I insisted. “How the hell did you do that?”
Aiden looked around him as if he couldn’t figure out what was so interesting or perplexing. “Do what?”
I gestured to the closed garage door. “That!”
He blinked at me then smiled and held up his cellphone. “You can travel across the universe, but you can’t reprogram simple codes?”
I put my hands on my hips and retorted, “I didn’t build the damn portals.”
Johnson sighed and interjected, “Would you two stop flirting and get your asses inside?”
My hands fell by my side as I gaped at the door. How the hell had he gotten it open so quickly? And so quietly?
“Remind me when this is over to change my name and appearance and disappear to like… Jakarta,” I mumbled.
Aiden kept smiling at me. “Wouldn’t matter. I’d still find you.”
He walked inside the house before I could tell him that was creepy and stalking even though what I really meant was God, yes, please find me.
Now that’s creepy, Mason muttered.
Shut up, I sighed.
Look: the only thing more awkward than falling in love with someone who kind of pushes the boundaries of everything you always thought you believed about the world and how it should operate is falling in love with that guy while your dead husband is living in your head.
That is not a sentence anyone should ever have to write out.
I stepped into Barker’s kitchen and wrinkled my nose at the pile of dirty dishes in his sink. He’d left a mug of coffee, complete with that thin brown line as it trickled down the side, on the counter by a stack of unopened mail. Johnson picked it up and began rifling through it while Aiden walked into the living room. Even from the kitchen, I could see the piles of unfolded laundry on the sofa, more dirty glasses on an end table by the easy chair, and a few ugly yellow stains on the carpet. I followed Aiden into the living room, still completely lost as to what I was supposed to be doing here.
“What are you looking for?” I asked him.
Aiden glanced up at me from the floor where he’d knelt beside the sofa and began pulling the clothes off and tossing the cushions aside. “Any of those devices they store information on. We showed you what they look like.”
“Yeah, but do they usually hide them in couch cushions?”
Aiden grinned at me, a sexy lopsided grin that temporarily made me forget we’d just broken into a guy’s home to interrogate him then murder him. “You’d be surprised. Grab a knife and start ripping shit open.”
From the kitchen, plates shattered against the linoleum floor and I called out to Johnson, “They’re not hidden inside the goddamn plates, Johnson!”
He laughed and shook his head. “Nope, but it’s still fun to break them.” He threw another one on the floor and smiled at me.
“You’re overgrown children,” I scolded, although to be honest, part of me wanted to go into the kitchen and break a few dishes as well. Instead, I grabbed a knife from Aiden and sat beside him so I could rip open the cushions.
As the white stuffing littered the floor, I looked around and told him, “I think we’re actually making this place look better.”
“Yeah, further proof that sadists are just incredibly sick bastards,” Aiden agreed. “Who lives like this?”
I snickered and pulled another handful of stuffing out of the cushion. “Lots of people who aren’t sadists,” I countered.
Aiden just grinned at me again and I focused on pulling the rest of the stuffing apart to make sure I wasn’t missing anything. Johnson must have grown tired of wrecking the kitchen because he appeared in front of us and bartered, “Rock, Paper, Scissors for who has to check his bedroom.”
Aiden didn’t even look up at him. “I’ll totally pull rank on you.”
“You’re an asshole,” Johnson retorted.
Aiden nodded. “If it means I don’t have to go into this dude’s bedroom, hell yeah, I’m an asshole.”
“Bella, help me out here,” Johnson pleaded. “Tell him it should at least be a random shot at who has to venture in there.”
I tossed the emptied cushion fabric aside and put the sheath over the knife blade. “Sounds fair to me,” I admitted. “And whoever loses, I’ll go with you. We’re only here because of me in the first place.”
“See?” Johnson said, pointing to me. “Bella is reasonable.”
“Bella is not in charge here,” Aiden reminded him.
I rolled my eyes and stood up. “Come on, Johnson. I’ll help you. I’ll even be brave and open all the drawers and closet first so I can warn you about what you’re going to have to see.”
Johnson grimaced and sighed. “You’re far braver than I am, Bella.”
I put my hand on his arm to tell him that was flattering although obviously not true, but Aiden stood up and prevented me from speaking. “Oh, for God’s sake, I’ll go. Finish checking the living room then see what the other rooms have in them.”
Something mischievous and knowing flashed behind Johnson’s eyes and he took Aiden’s position by the recliner.
And, of course, Mason had to say something about it.
He couldn’t let you out of his sight for fifteen minutes?
And, of course, I ignored him.
Aiden poked his head in the first doorway then backed out into the hallway. “Not this one.”
I glanced inside the room as we passed it and noticed a disorganized storage room with boxes piled on top of each other and loose articles of clothing and bedding scattered among the boxes. “Johnson’s going to regret not taking the bedroom,” I muttered.
Aiden snorted and grinned at me again. “Save that thought until after you’ve been in it. We’ve seen some pretty twisted shit over the years.”
I mimicked Johnson’s facial expression from moments before when he thought he was heading down this hallway. What had I just gotten myself into?
Aiden pushed a door open and stepped back. “Think this is it.”
I peeked around him and my shoulders sagged in relief when nothing looked out of the ordinary, other than Barker’s bedroom was just as chaotic and filthy as the rest of his house. I stepped around Aiden since I had volunteered for this, but he grabbed my wrist and stopped me. “You don’t have to do this.”
“You suck!” Johnson yelled from the living room.
Aiden narrowed his eyes toward the sound of his partner’s voice and yelled back, “She’s not one of us, and you would have just thrown her to the wolves!”
“I’m… pretty sure whatever’s in here isn’t a wolf.” I looked around the room quickly then grimaced again. “God, please don’t let there be a wolf in here.”
Aiden laughed and let go of my arm. “If there is, it’s probably not alive, which would explain the smell.”
&nb
sp; I held my arm closer to my chest and rubbed my fingers over my wrist where he’d held onto me only seconds before. Look where you are, and you’re still fantasizing about him. What is wrong with you? I asked myself.
Mason had an answer even though I hadn’t been talking to him. Or wanting him to give me his opinion. Or hear my thoughts. For some reason, you think this guy is hot and you’re horny. That’s what’s wrong with you.
I sighed heavily and Aiden’s hand froze by the top drawer on the dresser as he glanced over his shoulder at me. I shook my head at him. “Let’s bet,” I said, hoping to distract both men from how incredibly awkward my entire existence had become. “I say there’s only underwear and a few back issues of Playboy in there. Anything more scarring and I’ll take you to Disney World one day.”
That lopsided grin slowly crept across his lips. “I hope you don’t play poker because you’re a terrible gambler. You made your bet way too specific by limiting his porn to Playboy.”
“Good point,” I conceded. “Too late to change my phrasing?”
Aiden nodded. “Yep. Besides, there’s probably no porn in here anyway. Who pays for that shit anymore when it’s all over the internet now?”
“People who don’t want to get viruses,” I pointed out.
Aiden just smiled and pulled the drawer open. When he exhaled loudly, I realized he’d been holding his breath. “So far, I might be taking you to Disney World,” he said, glancing at me again with that this-could-smelt-iron smile.
Your analogies are terrible, Mason mumbled.
You’re annoying, I snapped.
I had much better taste in partners, Mason teased. In some ways, Chloe was a little like you actually.
“You told me,” I whispered.
Aiden stopped throwing socks and underwear on the floor and glanced at me. I blushed and stared at my shoes. “I’m going to check a nightstand. I’m pretty sure he can’t fit the carcass of a wolf in there, so it can’t be anything too traumatic.”
Aiden’s fingers wrapped gently around my arm again before I could walk away. “Hey, is he giving you a hard time about something?”
The Chosen: A Resurrected Series Novel Page 13