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Ravaged River: Men of Mercy, Book 6: A Military Romance Series

Page 8

by Cross, Lindsay


  “Merc, call it into the commander. I want to make sure Hunter’s got hands on Hayden. We need to get a team on Malik too, right now.”

  “Got it.”

  Hoyt got Hunter on the phone. “You talk to your sister?”

  “What the hell? You’re supposed to have her.”

  “She left before I got to her, but the Sheriff said he saw her leave and head home. Me and Merc got caught up in a mess here following a lead.” Hoyt turned to watch Merc’s shoulders drop as he talked to Grey.

  “Explain. Now.”

  “We found the suspects, and a new one. They were both tied to this professor that sponsored their visa’s to be here.” Hoyt said.

  “What did the professor say?” Hunter asked. Hoyt heard a baby crying in the background.

  “Nothing, he was dead when we got here, and so are half our leads. Trails drying up except for one guy, I’ll fill you in later, right now we need to find him.”

  Another baby scream and Hoyt cringed. “Hank Jr. okay?”

  “He’s sick to his stomach and now Evie’s puking too. Dammit. I’ve been trying to get ahold of Hank to help out, but he’s taken Maxi camping and I can’t get a call through. Now you’re telling me you don’t have my sister and you’ve lost the only lead we’ve got?”

  “The trail was dead when we got here.”

  He turned to Merc, “What did Grey say?”

  “He said to stay put, he’s sending in Mr. K’s team. Wants to keep it as quiet as possible. He talked to the sheriff, too.”

  “Good.”

  “Hoyt, what’s the deal?” Hunter asked.

  “We’ve got teams on the way to handle the processing and forensics. I’ll send Ethan the intel at headquarters to start tracking Malik and I’ll go to Hayden’s apartment and make sure she’s there safe.”

  “No, you get her and bring her to me. That’s it, do you understand? If Hank Jr. and Evie weren’t so sick, I’d be there myself.”

  But you’re having to trust the team fuck up.

  “I’ll bring her to you. Don’t worry, I know how this works.”

  Hoyt hung up and immediately called Hayden again. No answer. “Crap. She’s not gonna pick up.”

  “Not after she hung up on you earlier. Want me to call?”

  Hoyt shook his head no. “Let’s do a sweep of the house. Once it’s secure, I’ll go get her.”

  “Okay, you take lead.”

  Merc followed Hoyt through the opposite door and into a grand foyer with a large curved staircase. The opposite room, a sitting area, was open. They cleared it quickly, finished clearing the whole bottom floor. “Nothing.”

  Merc gestured upstairs and took the lead, both men with their weapons raised and ready. The staircase curved around to the right, landing on a huge open area with a red Persian rug that would cost more than Hoyt made in his life time. “How much do college professors make?”

  Merc said, “Not enough to afford this.”

  With each second, Latham’s guilt grew. The huge mansion. Student visa connections. Dead body. “Not looking good, man.”

  Merc swung around and nodded to the door closest. Hoyt fell silent and followed his teammate. Their pattern was practiced and flawless from countless operations. Merc opened the white wood paneled door and stepped back for Hoyt to sweep in first, pistol ready.

  The guest bedroom had elevated ceilings and a huge four-poster bed, with a tan and white silk bedspread and a sitting area off to the right. “Damn, this guy had access to some serious cash.”

  “Too bad he’s dead. I’d really like to have a conversation with him about where all this money came from.” Merc studied a large painting of an abstract landscape on a long wall.

  “Come on, lets finish.” Hoyt waved his teammate out the door and they followed the same pattern down the landing. Check and clear. Five doors.

  “This is it.” They stood before the last one at the end. Hoyt’s hair stood up on the back of his neck. He tried the knob. It was locked.

  Merc stepped back and Hoyt moved over as he kicked the door in. Both men rushed into the room, ready for an attack, but were met with nothing but a dark empty room. Hoyt flipped on the light switch.

  “Damn,” Merc said under his breath.

  The whole back wall was a massive white board. Names, dates, places. They all covered the surface and had intersecting lines drawn from one to the other. Hoyt crossed to the wall. “What do you think this is?”

  Merc came and stood next to him and holstered his weapon. “He’s tracking something. Or someone.”

  Hoyt holstered his pistol and took a step closer. “What’s a psychology professor doing studying the Soviet Occupation of Afghanistan?”

  The dates and names were circled in bright red. The occupation lasted from nineteen seventy-nine to nineteen eighty-nine. Hoyt followed the black line leading over to the next circle. “Here’s another list: 1982 – 1987. Elberd Bekhan, Chechnya. Zafar el Abdul. Holy crap, this guy housed Zafar during the occupation.”

  “Isn’t that the guy we took down last year?” Merc pointed to another large bubble with ISA written in bold letters.

  Hoyt spied another bubble, connected to multiple other names on the board, and froze. “He’s got Operation Blackwing listed.”

  Operation Blackwing was a highly classified mission TF-S had speared last year. They secretly inserted into Russia to help train some of their troops on anti-terrorism. TF-S had helped lead a mission into Chechnya, sorting out the most radicalized terrorists responsible for over a dozen bombings on Russian soil. Most of them had ties to terrorists along the Arabian Peninsula, but not the ones TF-S took down. Elberd Bekhan, their leader, had been killed in one of the U.S. lead attacks, effectively cutting off the largest radical movement.

  Merc cursed and stabbed a finger to yet another bubble. “He’s got all our names, our families names, email addresses and social media accounts listed. This asshole’s been tracking us the whole time.”

  Merc lifted his phone and snapped a picture. “I’m sending this to Ethan now.”

  Hoyt spun slowly, taking in the whole room, his muscles felt like they were crushing his bones they were pulled so tight. “Look, there’s a monitor.”

  Hoyt crossed to a table along the far wall. A large black monitor stood with a keyboard in front of it and papers scattered all around. “The processor is gone.”

  “He’s smart. There are some names over here that have been wiped clean, I missed them at first, but now I can see it.” Merc put a finger to his chin and leaned forward. “What was the name of that guy that tried to kill us with his Hummer?”

  Hoyt picked up a stack of papers and shuffled through them, his hand shaking as he read the top one. Malik Hussein, son of Mohad Hussein. Nephew to Jalal Hussein-Killed in 1989 by suicide bomb. Known ties to Al Seriq. “We’ve got to track Malik down and I’ve got to find Hayden. Now.”

  *

  Hoyt left and drove to Hayden’s apartment a few blocks from campus. The complex was small, with tan stucco walls and black wrought iron balconies, with lots of little green plants and flowers filling up corners and hanging over the rails. Hoyt parked at the north end and got out at building C and strode up the staircase, stopping in front of door 2c. He knocked.

  What would she say when she saw him standing here? Probably get the hell out of here. Too bad, he wasn’t leaving without her. Even if she’d finally wised up and started hating his guts, he’d make sure she was safe.

  He knocked again and when there was no answer, he walked to the edge of the landing and leaned over the railing to peer around the thin wall that separated her balcony from the stairway.

  Her blinds were pulled but he could see there were no lights on inside. Hoyt scanned the parking lot. Her car wasn’t here either.

  Had she gone home with Malik?

  His heart hit his chest with a loud whack, knocking the breath right out of his lungs. Did Malik have her now? Hoyt ripped his cell out and dialed her number. No answer
.

  Shit. He called again, and again. After the third try he called Ethan at headquarters. “I need you to track this number and send me the coordinates.”

  “Sure. Give me a minute, I’ll text them to your phone.”

  Hoyt hoofed it down the stairs and jumped in the Hummer. He pulled around to the parking lot exit and put it in park. How could he have let her slip through his fingers like that? If anything happened to her, it would be his fault.

  And it would kill him.

  His phone chirped. Hoyt pulled it open and checked the GPS. The tracker pointed to this complex, on the south end. His stomach locked down. She was here. Not in her apartment. His vision tunneled and Hoyt drove to the other end of the complex, parked and got out.

  She was with someone else. The fact slammed into him and nearly took him to his knees. That’s what he wanted, for her to move on. Then why the hell was his gut rolling and his knees shaking?

  The bottom apartment was lit up and the balcony door propped open just enough to allow a late spring breeze to billow through the sheer curtains. Girls laughter spilled out through the balcony door and he followed the sound to the railing. He could make out two figures on a couch sitting against the right wall. One very similar to Hayden. Hoyt pulled out his phone and dialed Hayden, again. Her ring tone went off, his fear sliding into fury as he watched her silence it.

  He might not have the right to anymore, but he was about to teach Hayden some manners.

  11

  “I can’t believe you’ve had two hotties after you and I got stuck with Jeremy.” Mandy leaned back on the couch and took a sip of her white wine, careful not to get her green mud mask on the glass. “He took me up to his bedroom and tried to get me to play video games. Can you believe that? What an idiot.”

  Hayden chuckled and nodded in agreement. “He was absolutely clueless.”

  “I mean, how could he be more interested in a video game than this?” Mandy gestured at herself. With the mud mask she looked more like the creature from the lagoon than the sex pot she’d represented earlier.

  “I have no idea. Look at you, those boxer shorts and t-shirt show off your figure perfectly.”

  “I know, right?” Mandy laughed and took another sip. “Thanks for leaving early with me, I’m sorry I pulled you away from hanging out with Chance.”

  “It’s okay. I had enough flirting tonight to last me all week. Besides, I really need to get back in the lab tomorrow morning and do some more work.” She’d actually jumped at the chance to escape the party. Chance had been steadily getting closer to her as the night went on. Touching her or putting his arm around her waist whenever he got the opportunity, trying to turn her light hearted flirtation from earlier into something more serious than Hayden was ready to handle.

  “Saturday? You’re going to school on the weekend? Oh honey, you’re worse off than I thought. We need to find you a man pronto.”

  Hayden rolled her eyes and went to the small kitchenette just off the living room to refill her wine, studiously ignoring the slight buzz tripping up her feet. She’d gone to her apartment and changed into her comfy cotton pajama bottoms and a loose tank that read, ‘Ho’s before bro’s’. “No, thank you. I’ve had enough men for one night.”

  Hayden made it back to the couch and collapsed into the cushion. As if on cue, her cell phone rang from the coffee table. She grabbed it and her light hearted mood soured. “Why is he still calling me?”

  “Who?”

  “My ex. I haven’t talked to him in months and he picks tonight to blow up my freaking phone.” Decline. Hayden sat it back down on the coffee table and thought seriously about shutting the damn thing off completely.

  “Hoyt? The guy you’ve been mooning over? Maybe he saw you out tonight with your new boy toys.” Mandy sat up on the couch, excited about the prospect of drama.

  “Hoyt Crowe? At a frat party? You’ve lost your mind. Besides, he wants absolutely nothing to do with me.”

  A fact he’d made abundantly clear.

  “Then why is he calling you?”

  “How should I know?” Hayden took a big gulp of wine, trying to cover up the fact her hand shook just thinking about Hoyt.

  “Maybe he wants you back?” Mandy asked.

  Hayden nearly choked and she slapped a hand over her mouth to keep the wine from spraying out across the room. When she finally got it down she looked at Mandy. “You really are nuts. The man turns and walks the other way when he sees me on the street.”

  Mandy shrugged. “A guy who doesn’t care anything about you doesn’t go out of his way to avoid you. And he sure as hell doesn’t blow up your phone the first night you go out to a party without him.”

  Hayden opened her mouth with a comeback and then slammed it shut. Hoyt had completely avoided her, not ignored her. Like he was scared to be near her.

  Her heartbeat kicked into fast forward and she slowly lowered her wine glass to the table with a trembling hand. The thought rolling around in her brain with new momentum. Maybe Hoyt had been afraid to see her. Maybe he still wanted her and just didn’t know how to tell her?

  “That’s ridiculous, I haven’t heard from him in months.”

  Someone knocked on Mandy’s door and both girls jumped.

  Mandy stood. “Who could that be?”

  Hayden craned her neck around to watch Mandy go to the door. Her apartment was small, so the door was at the other end of the couch. “You better not have invited Chance over.”

  “I didn’t invite anybody. Maybe it’s Hoyt.” Mandy peered through her peep hole and gasped. “Shit.”

  “What? Who is it?” Hayden shot to her feet, clutching her arms around her stomach.

  Mandy took a step back and shook her head. “I don’t know but that guy isn’t getting in here.”

  Hayden frowned and crossed to the door. “Let me see.”

  When she pressed her eye to the peep hole she gasped and stumbled back. “Oh my God.”

  “I’ll call the cops.” Mandy raced over to the couch and shoved her hand into the cushions, digging for her phone.

  “No.” Hayden’s mouth went dry. What was he doing here?

  “No? Did you not see that guy? He’s not here to talk, I can tell you that much.” Mandy found her phone and held it up triumphantly. “Got it.”

  “Mandy, I said no. It’s okay. I know him.”

  Her friend looked at her like she had horns growing out of her forehead. “How?”

  “He’s my ex.” Hayden jerked the door open and propped her hands on her hips.

  Hoyt stood there, filling up the doorway, dark and sexy. His black shirt molded to every muscle on his chest and tucked into tactical pants that emphasized his narrow waste and lean hips. The two scorpion tattoo’s licking up his arms flexed and moved when he propped a hand on the frame and Hayden had to keep herself from licking her lips.

  His hair was shorter than it used to be, almost skull-trimmed, making the angular planes of his cheeks and hard line of his jaw even more pronounced. The effect was devastating.

  “Ignoring my calls?” He was looking at her with an intense almost brooding expression that made her knees shake.

  “What do you want?” Shit, she sounded all breathy. Hayden cleared her throat and forced her gaze up to his. Then she locked on to a long gash on his forehead. “What happened to your head?”

  “Nothing. Just an accident. Why won’t you take my calls?” Oh Lord, his coarse voice slid over her skin, awakening nerve endings that had long been dormant. Everything about the man was raw sensuality, whether he knew it or not.

  Remember, you vowed to move on. He’d toyed with her heart enough right before he’d broken it. Hayden almost snorted to her self. That’s why her heart blasting off like a freaking rocket. “Because I don’t want to talk to you. Why are you here?”

  He was so mouthwatering it hurt. God, she hated herself at that moment. Hated how aroused she got just from him standing in the door, hated knowing that despite her vow to
move on with her life, and the months of torture worrying about him and thinking about him, he could still affect her like this. And then Hayden remembered what Mandy had just said about him not being unaffected. A smidge of optimism edged into her awareness. Maybe he was here to see her, to apologize…

  “Your brothers have been looking for you. They need you to come home. Now.”

  Her hope tanked and she let her lips turn down into a frown. “My brothers never send anyone to look for me, and if they did, they wouldn’t send you.”

  Sure, Ranger and Hunter called to chat sometimes and she typically saw them on a daily basis when they weren’t on deployment. But they lived in the same town, and they knew how bad Hoyt’s breaking up with her had hurt. So why send him?

  Hoyt gestured with a thumb over his shoulder. “I don’t have time to go into it here, get in the car.”

  “I’m not leaving until you tell me what you want.” Hayden gasped and crossed her arms defiantly, knowing how much her stubborn streak used to affect him.

  Gauging by the furious light in his dark, almost tortured expression, it still did. His knuckles turned white on the doorframe and his biceps bulged. “We don’t have time for this, we need to get to Hunter’s, now.”

  Suddenly Hayden noticed the lines around his blue eyes weren’t just cold and distant carvings, there was fatigue mixed in. The anger heating her veins turned cold. “What’s wrong? Did something happen to Evie? The baby?”

  Hunter had said they were sick yesterday, what if they’d gotten some kind of terrible infection. That could be the only explanation, that or the Team was deploying on another suicide mission.

  “They’re fine,” Hoyt said.

  “Hank? Ranger? Are they okay?”

  Hoyt growled and stepped into the living room, forcing Hayden back a step. And then the breath left her body when his gaze turned soft, and just for a minute she got a glimpse of the old Hoyt, the one before torture had destroyed his soul and darkened his heart to her. “Your family is fine. No one is injured.”

  “Then why are you acting so strange?” Hayden covered her chest with her hand, not bothering to hide the tremble. He still affected her, there was no doubt, and no matter how much she wished he didn’t, she knew he always would.

 

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