Midnight Revenge

by Elle Kennedy

  The two of them landed on the carpet with a heavy thud. The gun flew out of Bryant’s hand and skidded underneath the desk as the man roared in outrage.

  Straddling the man’s torso, D brought his bound wrists to Bryant’s throat and pressed down hard. But goddamn it, he’d been wrong—Bryant was no amateur. The man was still lightning fast, still highly skilled. His elbow shot up and connected with D’s nose, and a sharp crack sliced the air as blood poured from D’s nostrils and stained Bryant’s suit jacket.

  They were both breathing heavily as Bryant rolled them over, gaining the upper hand as he got on top of D. Meaty fists came down hard on D’s face, bringing a bone-jarring jolt of pain that rattled his jaw. He blocked the angry blows with his zip-tied wrists, tried to bring his knee up to ram it into Bryant’s groin, but the heavy weight crushing his torso made it impossible to move.

  “You really think you can take me down?” Bryant grunted. His fist slammed into D’s jaw again, while his other hand snapped out toward the desk, trying to slide underneath it in a wild grab for the gun.

  D batted at Bryant’s extended arm, causing the man’s hand to slap the desktop instead. A flurry of items flew off the desk and rained over their heads. Something heavy, a paperweight maybe, knocked D in the forehead, and papers crumpled beneath his elbow as he attempted to roll again.

  This time he succeeded in heaving Bryant off him, with such force that D ended up on his stomach, hands flat on the carpet. Something sharp dug into the center of his palm, bringing a sting of pain, a gush of blood.

  “I own you!” Bryant yelled as his hand fumbled beneath the desk again. “I trained you! I’m better than you!”

  With a triumphant growl, Bryant drew his hand back and emerged with the gun.

  As adrenaline surged through D’s blood, he grabbed the long piece of metal that had cut his hand. A letter opener, he realized. Fancy as fuck, with a shiny steel blade and what looked like diamonds glittering on the handle.

  D heard the click of the safety, saw Bryant rise to his knees. He quickly twirled the letter opener around to grip it by the handle, then lunged at the other man just as Bryant pulled the trigger.

  The gunshot was like an explosion in D’s ear, probably because the bullet had literally flown by his ear. Heat seared the side of his head, but the pain he’d expected didn’t come.

  Bryant had missed. By millimeters.

  The man realized it at the same time D did. With a furious growl, Bryant curled his finger over the trigger again, but not fast enough this time.

  Because D had already plunged the sharp blade of the letter opener in the center of the man’s neck.

  A horrified sound flew out of Bryant’s mouth. Blood gushed out of his neck, the arterial spray splashing D in the face as he leaned in and twisted the blade. Then he twisted again. And again and again, until Bryant’s throat was slashed open like a grapefruit that had just been sliced in half. A mangled mash of flesh that still oozed blood even as Bryant toppled to the floor.

  Dead.

  D’s ear was ringing like a fucking carnival game. Loud and continuous. Disorienting. He snatched the gun from Bryant’s limp hand, then shot to his feet and aimed the pistol at the door, his breaths coming out in sharp pants. The men in the hall had to have heard the gunshot. Why the hell weren’t they barreling through the door?

  D’s heart rate steadied as he spared a quick glance at his old handler’s body. Blood continued to flow out of Bryant’s neck, forming a sticky puddle on the beige carpet, turning the white collar of his shirt red.

  The ringing in his left ear got quieter. He could hear out of it again. Thank fuck. For a moment there, he’d actually worried he might’ve been deafened.

  D took a breath. All right. He needed to get the fuck out of here. He wasn’t sure why the guards hadn’t come to their boss’s rescue, but they had to be out there. Patrolling the halls, watching the perimeter of the building.

  It was fine, though. A-okay. He’d escaped from hairier situations before and come out of them alive. He just needed to focus.

  Exhaling, he edged silently toward the door—just as it burst open.

  D was a heartbeat away from pulling the trigger when he recognized the man who appeared in the doorway.

  It was Trevor Callaghan.

  Son of a bitch.

  D’s jaw fell open as shock crashed into him.

  Looking amused by the reaction, Trevor lifted a brow and said, “What—you really thought we wouldn’t come after you?”

  Footsteps sounded from the hall, and then Kane sidled up to Trevor.

  Kane studied D’s face, which he knew was stained with Bryant’s blood, then gazed past D’s shoulders at the body lying on the floor by the desk. “Wow, you’re such a badass, D,” he cracked. “You killed one guy. We, on the other hand, just took out a fucking army out there. You’re welcome.”

  D stared at his teammates. No, his friends.

  Actually, fuck that. His brothers.

  And then he started to laugh.

  Chapter 25

  “Are you sure you don’t want to wait for D?” Abby’s forehead creased in disapproval as she followed Sofia to the sedan parked in the courtyard.

  It was the same car Sofia had arrived in at the compound three days ago when she’d come here to track down Derek. The realization floored her. Had it really only been three days? It felt like an entire lifetime had passed since she’d followed D to Cancún. Since the cell . . . and the motel . . . and the gut-wrenching good-bye at the airport this morning.

  It was so strange. She’d known the man for years, and during that time the only feelings he’d evoked in her were curiosity and indifference. But three measly days at his side, and somehow she’d fallen in love with him.

  Pain squeezed her heart and she swallowed hard, trying to ignore the hot rush of emotion twisting in her stomach. It didn’t matter how she felt about him. She could love him until the day she died, shower him with that love, remind him of it every single day, but it wouldn’t make a lick of difference.

  Because Derek Pratt would always be too afraid to love her back.

  “Just tell him to call me when he gets back,” Sofia mumbled as she unlocked the driver’s door.

  When he got back, not if. She’d been so terrified earlier when she’d boarded that jet, convinced she would never see D again. And when Kane had called Abby from Delaware almost four hours ago, Sofia had almost bitten off her own tongue in panic, certain Kane would report that D was already dead. But she should have known better than to underestimate Derek Pratt. According to Kane, D had managed to kill Edward Bryant while handcuffed.

  The man was fucking invincible.

  But he was also unreachable. He was broken, and Sofia had finally accepted the bleak truth: she couldn’t fix him.

  D would just have to fix himself.

  And she . . . well, she had a baby to focus on. It was overwhelming to think that she’d be doing it by herself, but she was strong, healthy, and determined. After years of being alone, she was finally going to have the family she’d been deprived of when she was a little girl. So what if it would be a family of two? She was going to love this child with all her heart. The two of them were going to take on the fucking world together.

  “Thank you, by the way.”

  Abby’s awkward voice jolted Sofia from her thoughts. She wrinkled her forehead. “For what?”

  “For the Wilmington lead.” Abby shrugged. “Even Morgan didn’t know where Smith Group used to operate out of, so you saved us a lot of time with that lead. Made it easier to narrow the search.”

  Sofia couldn’t fight a spark of pride. She liked knowing that she’d contributed to D’s rescue. When his team had been scrambling to figure out where Bryant might have taken him, she’d suddenly remembered him mentioning Delaware in the motel, and tentatively offered it up as a possible location. And it had totally panned out.

  “No problem,” she answered, her tone sounding far more relaxed than
she felt. “Anyway, I should really take off now. I’m anxious to get home.”

  “I wish you’d let me drive you.”

  “It’s fine, Abby. Really. The rental company needs to pick up the car, so it makes sense for them to grab it at the airport instead of here. I doubt Morgan wants strangers driving up to his gate—”

  She stopped talking, because the moment she’d said the word gate, two Range Rovers appeared in front of the gate farthest from the courtyard. She squinted in the sunshine, her shoulders tightening in alarm as she peered at the vehicles, but her wariness disappeared when she noticed Abby smiling.

  “They’re back,” the redhead said.

  Sofia’s stomach roiled. Crap. She’d really, really wanted to be gone before D came back. She couldn’t face him right now, not after everything they’d been through, everything they’d said to each other. Or hadn’t said.

  God, she’d told him she loved him, and he’d stared right through her.

  As uneasiness gathered in her body, she watched as the cars drove through the first gate. Then they stopped. An arm extended from a driver’s window and punched in a code at the second gate. The cars rolled forward again. Stopped at the last gate. Another code entered.

  And then the Range Rovers entered the courtyard, tires kicking up dust before the vehicles came to a stop.

  Sofia jumped when the front door of the house flew open with a loud gust that could be heard in the courtyard. Morgan’s daughter, Cate, hurried outside, her dirty blond hair whipping around her shoulders as she raced toward the vehicles.

  The young woman threw her arms around Ash the moment he stepped out of the backseat of one of the SUVs, and Sofia hid a smile as she noticed the visible reluctance with which he hugged her back. Even so, there was also unmistakable pleasure in his eyes, which faded once he noticed the other men smirking at him.

  “You’re back.” Cate Morgan was grinning from ear to ear as she peered up at the young rookie. “And you’re alive.”

  Ash’s voice was dry. “Yes, Cate. I’m back and I’m alive.” His lips twitched. “You realize you say that every single time I come back from a job, right?”

  The girl stuck out her chin. “I’m sorry for being concerned about your well-being, Ash. So sorry.”

  Behind Ash, Luke snickered, then moved toward the porch in a brisk stride. “Abs,” he called over his shoulder. “Where’s Liv?”

  “Out back with Juliet and Izzy,” Abby called back.

  Luke immediately changed course, heading for the side of the house instead. Ethan and Trevor did the same at the mention of their wives, hurrying after Luke with no time to spare.

  The eagerness in their expressions brought an ache of sorrow to Sofia’s chest. And the way Kane approached Abby and kissed her on the forehead only deepened the ache.

  Everyone was so happy to see their significant others. Even Ash, who was making an obvious effort not to stand too close to Cate, yet was so clearly pleased that she’d come outside to welcome him home.

  Sofia finally found the courage to look at D. He was leaning against one of the Range Rovers, watching her with an indecipherable expression.

  When their gazes locked, he straightened his broad shoulders and slowly walked toward her.

  Her heart beat faster the closer he got. He’d changed his shirt. He’d been wearing a white one at the airfield in Cancún, but now it was black and stretched tight across his chest. The hard ridges of his abdomen rippled with each step he took, his chest radiating pure power.

  When he reached her, the scent of copper instantly filled her nostrils. Sofia narrowed her eyes when she glimpsed a faint splotch of red under his chin. He must have tried to scrub it off at some point, but he’d missed a spot, and the caked blood on his skin triggered her concern.

  “Are you all right?” she asked quietly.

  Noticing where her gaze had gone, he awkwardly ran his palm over his chin, then shrugged. “I’m fine. Not my blood.”

  “Ah, okay. That’s good.”

  He nodded. Went quiet.

  From the corner of her eye, Sofia noticed Abby and Kane edging away. Discreetly at first, but then they quickened their pace, as if the tension in the air was too much for them to bear. Ash and Cate drifted away too, disappearing inside the house.

  “You’re leaving?” He gestured to the car keys in her hand.

  “Yeah. Morgan arranged for a charter to take me back to the clinic.”

  D gave another nod.

  “I should actually get going. I don’t want to make the pilot wait.”

  Another pause, and then he cleared his throat. “Are you cool if he waits another ten minutes? It won’t take me that long to pack.”

  Sofia blinked. “I . . . don’t understand.”

  “I’d rather not have to replace my entire wardrobe when we get to Mexico. Figured it would be easier to just pack a few bags while we’re still here.”

  His eyes revealed nothing. Absolutely nothing that could help her make sense of what he was saying.

  Sofia gaped at him, her throat working overtime to swallow her confusion. “You’re coming to Mexico?”

  He nodded again.

  She waited for him to continue. He didn’t.

  “Why?” she blurted out.

  D dragged a hand over his close-cropped hair, and the movement caused his biceps to flex. “Because I’m not going to be one of those people.”

  Sofia was baffled. “What people?”

  “The ones who leave you. You said everybody you care about leaves you. I’m not gonna fucking do that.”

  Her jaw fell open, damn near unhinging. Was this a dream? Some screwed-up fever dream? Or did pregnancy cause hallucinations in some women?

  “D—”

  “Derek,” he cut in. “My name is Derek.”

  A frown touched her lips. “Okay.”

  “No, you don’t get it. My name is actually Derek.” A sheepish look filled his eyes. “That’s the name I was born with.”

  Just when she thought he couldn’t shock her any more than he already had, he threw her another curveball. Sofia’s brain struggled to absorb the information. “Your real name is Derek? Derek . . . Pratt?”

  “Porter.”

  Her brow furrowed. As she ran over what he’d just told her, a laugh popped out of her mouth. “You chose your real name as your alias? And the same initials?” The laughter came harder. “Oh my God, that’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard! Aren’t you supposed to be a superspy?”

  D’s mouth twitched with humor. “Of course it’s stupid. Stupid enough to work, because how dumb would someone be to do that?”

  Yeah, she supposed he was right. But why was he telling her this? And why had he said he was coming home with her? What did that mean?

  “What’s happening here?” she whispered.

  D stepped closer, and her heart skipped a beat when he touched her cheek. His callused fingers scraped her jaw before absently toying with her bottom lip.

  “You were right. I’m afraid to feel. And . . .” A ragged breath escaped his mouth. “And maybe I didn’t deal with . . . everything that happened to me. Well, I mean, putting it behind me is one way of dealing with it, but maybe that’s not good enough. Maybe I do need to talk to someone about it.” His dark eyes met hers. “I was hoping you could help me find someone to talk to. A . . . professional.”

  Her knees grew wobbly. “Yeah.” She swallowed. “I can do that.”

  Another nod. “Thanks. And listen. I don’t want you to give me shit about the house, okay?”

  Sweet Jesus, she’d never been more confused in her life. “The house?”

  “Yeah. Your house. We need to get that front door replaced. New locks, too. And the window frame in the spare room is broken—I checked the last time I was there.”

  When had he been in her spare room?

  “That lock doesn’t work either, and there’s no way I’m letting the kid sleep there until we fix it. And the fridge is fucking gone, So
fia. It sucks up way too much power.” D’s tone became stern. “We’ll need a better security system, too. Motion sensors, alarms. I’d feel better if we installed some trip wires, maybe C-4 on the path from the clinic to the house, but that could be risky. I don’t know how much freedom you give your patients. Do they wander around the property a lot?”

  Sofia just stared at him.

  “Fuck, fine,” he muttered. “No, explosives. I’ll figure something else out.”

  Now she shook her head. Again and again, because the cobwebs inside it were clinging to every corner of her brain. “Why are you saying all this? And what makes you think I’m going to let you move into my house?”

  D looked startled. “Because you love me.”

  “Oh my God! Yes, I love you! But you said you didn’t want me, remember?” She fought to calm her breathing. “You said you didn’t want the baby! What the hell changed, Derek?”

  “Everything,” he said simply.

  When he didn’t elaborate, she growled in frustration. “You know what, Derek Porter? I’ve had it up to here with you! You can take your trip wires and C-4 and shove them right up your—”

  “I love you.”

  Sofia’s jaw hit the dirt. “W-what?”

  “I, uh, love you,” D repeated. He clumsily rubbed the back of his neck, then his cheeks. Either she was imagining it, or his fingers were actually trembling.

  “You . . .” She trailed off, unsure how to continue.

  “Should I say it again?” He looked confused for a beat, but then it turned to wariness. “I’ve never said that to anyone before. Am I supposed to give a longer speech or something?”

  A laugh flew out. Oh God. This man was priceless.

  Sofia finally found her voice. “You love me?”

  “Yeah, I do. I probably should have led with that, but the state of your fucking house really pisses me off and I got sidetracked.”

  She swallowed another laugh.

  “I’m not gonna lie, though. I’m afraid. I’m afraid I won’t be a good father to the kid. I’m afraid I won’t be good to you. And I’m really fucking afraid I might lose you one day because of it.”