Blowing out a frustrated breath, Ketcher shut off the engine.
He was hot, hungry, and exhausted. His side hurt like a motherfucker, and he was pissed as hell for being forced into exile.
Ketcher peered through the windshield. At least he would have decent accommodations. The small cottage was painted in disturbing shades of green and tan. The colors were offensive at first glance, but as he took in the surrounding area, he noted they were also uniquely camouflaging.
A porch ran along the front and sagged on one end. Large trees grew on either side of the cottage. The landscaping was minimal at best. No brightly colored flowers or fancy decorations to encourage passers-by to give it an extra glance. Not that this location should have a lot of through traffic. That had been one of his requirements. Anyone who drove down the pitted gravel road leading to the cottage would either be lost or looking for him—the latter being his primary concern. If Anton Barzaga or any of his goonies managed to track him to the little cottage on Lake Buchanan, Ketcher wanted to see them coming.
The screen door swung open and a familiar, smokin’ hot blonde in camo pants and a skintight black T-shirt stepped out onto the porch.
“You gonna sit out there all night?”
Natalie Cordova launched herself from the porch and jogged over.
Ketcher managed to open the door and slide out of the vehicle by the time she rounded the hood. The movement cost him. Fire licked up the side of his torso. The sweat already beading his upper lip grew thicker. He pulled a shallow breath, then sent his legs a silent demand to stand firm. With a quick swipe of his hand, he wiped his lip under the guise of offering her a wave. “Hey, Nat.”
“Hey, yourself.” She went up on her toes when she reached him and raised her arm in expectation.
Ketcher gritted his teeth. The woman had never hugged him before and she wanted to start now? How much had Brandon told her? Knowing his friend, he’d told Natalie everything. But Ketcher trusted Natalie as much as he did Brandon, so he leaned over, the effort further depleting his waning energy, and allowed her to give his neck a quick squeeze before he set her away from him again. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”
She crossed her arms and eyed him up and down. She scowled as though she didn’t like what she saw. Not the reaction he was used to getting from women, but whatever.
“Just a fly-by,” she said. “I’m heading out again in a couple of days.”
Ketcher knew better than to ask where Nat was going. She was active military, the only one of their group to still serve. He and Brandon, along with a few other Marines, had helped Nat and her team out of a sticky situation in North Africa a lifetime ago. Ten years at least. Ketcher hadn’t seen her again until a year later, when she showed up for poker night at Brandon’s. She’d been accepted into their circle of comrades immediately, yet Ketcher suspected Brandon was the real reason she stuck around.
“That your Hummer?” He jutted his chin toward the vehicle in question.
“God, no.” She started toward the porch, indicating he should follow. “I prefer my civilian transportation to be sleek and fast. That monster belongs to Roman.”
Ketcher stopped walking. “Roman is here, too?”
“Sure. All the guys are here.”
The last shred of hope Ketcher had for his regroup-and-rest plan went right out the window. When he asked for Brandon’s help to secure a place to stay for a few days, he hadn’t expected him to call in the troops. He should’ve known. Brothers-for-life and all that.
Nat pointed toward a clump of trees to the north. “Roman and Booker are setting a perimeter.” She waved back toward the road. “Sully and Adam are taking care of the entrance. I’m surprised you didn’t see them when you pulled in.”
Ketcher wasn’t. The minute the guys had seen headlights, they would’ve melted into the background. Those two were scary good at going ghost.
“Brandon took care of the lakefront, and now he’s inside with Noah, who is manning the laptop.” Nat stopped at the top of the porch steps. “You coming?”
“Yep.” Ketcher closed the distance, hauled his ass up the steps, and followed Natalie inside.
The cottage was bigger than it looked from the outside. He’d entered into the kitchen. He spotted a bathroom to the left, and beyond the kitchen appeared to be the living area. There were two doors off to the left of the living room, one situated at each corner. Bedrooms, he assumed. The right side of the living room faced the lake. There were several windows set into the paneled wall, and a sliding glass door that led to a screened-in porch.
The kitchen and living area were furnished from what appeared to be the 1970’s, and the place had a slight fishy smell, probably from all of the fish caught in the lake and prepared there. It would do. All except for one thing.
“Fuck,” Ketcher complained. “I don’t mean to seem ungrateful, but couldn’t you have found me a place with air conditioning?”
Natalie gave him a curious look as she hoisted herself up to sit on the counter. “It’s sixty degrees.”
Before he could process that bit of information, Noah Summers looked up from his laptop. Noah’s brows rose. “Dude. You look like shit.”
“Good. I’d hate to look better than I feel.” Ketcher went to the kitchen table and dropped into the chair next to Noah. “It’s good to see you, buddy.”
A highball glass containing amber-colored liquid rested close to Noah’s hand. Noah picked it up. “Good to see you, too.” He drained the glass down his throat. “Even if the circumstances suck.”
A bottle of Irish whiskey appeared and Noah replenished his glass.
“What is this place?” Ketcher asked.
“It’s a private rental.” Brandon said, coming in through the sliding door. He stomped his boots on the mat. “My brother Alec secured a short-term lease with an identity he insisted can’t be traced to you or to us. Same goes for the account he used to transfer the payment, which he sent in full. There’s no Internet access out here and the cell coverage on this side of the lake is spotty at best.” Brandon pointed to a monitor sitting on the kitchen counter. “The perimeter is set. Anyone gets too close, you’ll know it. As I’m sure you noticed, there’s only one way in by road. Sully and Adam buried several sensors to notify you if a car comes your way.”
“And they work like a charm,” Noah added. “The alarm sounded the second you turned up the road.”
Ketcher stood, intending to greet his friend with a handshake and requisite one-armed man hug. The floor shifted under his feet.
Brandon rushed forward, arms outstretched as though he thought Ketcher was about to face plant. “Whoa. You okay, man?”
Ketcher waved him off. “I haven’t eaten much today.” Or at all. “Probably just low blood sugar or some shit and I got up too fast. Gimme a minute.”
The bandage under his shirt felt warm and wet against his skin. He pressed against the wound. His fingers came away sticky and red.
“Ketch?” Natalie’s voice came from far away.
Ketcher’s vision wavered. He blinked. Blinked again. God, it was so fucking hot.
“I just need a minute.”
As he turned toward the bathroom, his knees weakened. He needed to lie down. Pronto.
Right there on the kitchen floor seemed as good a place as any.
Chapter Three
“Dr. Daniels?”
“Yes?” Regan didn’t glance away from the wound she was suturing, by far her easiest case of the day and with any luck, her last.
“There’s a call for you on line three.”
“I’m going to be a few minutes yet, Sally. Could you take a message for me, please?” Regan offered a reassuring smile to the boy on her table. Nine-year-old Eric Haynes, according to the chart. The young cowboy— Regan knew Eric was a cowboy because he had informed her of as much—had snagged his hand on some barbed wire. “Just a couple more. You’re doing great.”
“Will I have a scar?” Eric’s face lit up w
ith a hopeful grin.
“I am very good at what I do.” Regan laughed as the boy’s smile faltered. “But don’t worry, you will probably have a scar,” she told him, which brought his grin back to full wattage.
Boys were so funny. All rough and tumble, believing themselves invincible. Come to think of it, most of the grown men she knew acted the same way.
“Now be still, please.” She pulled the last suture and tied it off. “There.” Regan lifted a palm in solidarity. “All done.”
He high-fived her with his uninjured hand. “I can’t wait to show Dad and Steven. That’s my little brother.” Eric turned to his mom, proudly displaying his repaired hand. “See, Mom? Told you I’d be okay.”
Eric’s mom rolled her eyes. “I’ll give you this round, but the next time I catch you messing with fencing material without your gloves on, a trip to the emergency room will be the least of your worries.” She ruffled Eric’s shaggy hair. “Safety first, young man. Got it?”
“Yes, ma’am.” The boy, duly chastised, stared at his lap. “I’m really sorry I worried you, Mom.”
Regan watched as Eric’s mom wrapped an arm around his shoulders and hugged him. She kissed his temple, whispered something into his ear. Eric didn’t seem to mind the attention.
A familiar longing threatened to tug at Regan’s heart. She shut it down before it could take root. She was satisfied, happy even, with her decision to become a physician—first for the United States Navy, now for the emergency room at Seton Medical Center. She didn’t need what Eric’s mom had—a husband, children, and a home—to feel fulfilled. She’d been in love once and it hadn’t worked out. She had no desire to repeat the process. She saved lives. She helped people. It was enough.
Refocusing on the task at hand, Regan explained the aftercare to both mom and son. She was about to apply a bandage when Sally poked her head around the curtain again. “The man on the phone said he would wait.”
He? Regan had no social life to speak of and she hadn’t been in Austin for more than a few months. Which meant there was only one man she could think of who would track her down at her job and then demand to wait. “Did he give a name?”
“Brandon Martin,” Sally said.
The name brought an instant smile to Regan’s lips. She did enjoy being right.
Brandon was the only person Regan knew in Austin. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. He had introduced her to his family, so technically she knew them, too. She’d even gone for drinks once with his sister and sister-in-law, but had declined several offers for a repeat excursion since. Not that she hadn’t enjoyed the outing. She had. Amanda was sweet and fun. Samantha was outspoken and made Regan laugh with her stories of how she and Amanda’s brother Caleb had gotten together.
She wanted to have drinks with her new friends, but Regan’s schedule at the hospital left her exhausted most nights.
Tonight, for example. She was thirteen hours into a twelve-hour shift. Her feet hurt. Her limbs felt heavy. All she wanted to do was go back to her cozy little apartment, take a bath, and sleep for the two days she was off.
Regan removed her gloves and tossed them into a nearby trashcan. “Thank you, Sally. Could you finish up here?” Sally was one of the most delightful and competent ER nurses Regan had ever worked with. Eric and his mom were in excellent hands.
“I’m on it.” Sally moved into position next to Eric.
Regan bid them all farewell and slipped around the curtain. She did a quick scan of the area to make sure she wasn’t needed. Everything appeared to be under control and no one yelled her name, so she maneuvered past the nurse’s station and headed down the hall. Finding an empty office, she went in and closed the door. She went to the desk, picked up the phone, and pressed the button for line three. “Brandon?”
“Hey, doc,” Brandon’s warm tone greeted her. “Got a sec?”
“For you? Absolutely.” As a Navy doctor, Regan had been assigned to a battalion of Marines in Afghanistan. Over the course of her service there, she had developed friendships with a small group of them. Brandon was one of those Marines. He was out of the service now, like her, and had started a tactical training business with his family. He’d been trying to convince her to moonlight for them since she called to tell him she had accepted a job in his home city.
Regan perched on the edge of the desk. “What’s up? I assume it’s important if you were willing to wait. Why didn’t you call my cell?”
“Yeah, sorry about that. For reasons I can’t explain right now, I didn’t want this particular call to show up on your cell records. Or mine. I’ve got a situation.”
Those words brought her to her feet. “What’s going on?” Concern made her heart jump. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. It’s…”
She heard rustling, as if he had covered the phone. She could hear muted voices in the background. “Brandon!” Regan wanted to reach through the phone and strangle him. “It’s what?”
“Sorry. It’s … complicated. I need a doctor. Can you come? I promise I’ll explain everything when you get here.”
Regan would have fingers left if she were to count the number of men she trusted with her life, and Brandon Martin was one of them. She didn’t hesitate. “Yes, of course.” Sleep could wait. “Where are you? If you can text me the address—”
“I’d rather you not take your own car. Alec is waiting outside for you.”
“Do I even want to know how you knew I was at the end of my shift?”
“Probably not.”
“I’ll need to pack up some supplies. If you could tell me what I’m up against—”
“Alec will have everything you need.”
“There better be a good explanation for all this cloak and dagger, Marine.”
Brandon’s laugh sounded off. Almost … nervous. “Regan?” More rustling.
Dread clenched her heart. Brandon never called her by her first name. “Yeah?”
“Hurry.”
And then he was gone.
Regan didn’t waste any time. She went through potential scenarios in her head as she bolted from the ER, not even stopping to grab her purse.
She recognized Alec the moment she exited the doors. He was leaning against the side of his car, waiting, just as Brandon had said. Alec was in motion the second he spotted her.
“You need a ride, pretty doctor lady?” He slung open the passenger side door with a flourish.
“Apparently, I do.” Regan slid onto the cool leather seat and folded her legs inside. Alec shut the door and jogged around to the driver’s side.
He got in and buckled his seat belt. Regan did the same. Alec punched the button and the car started with a hearty rev.
“We’ve got a bit of a drive, darlin’.” Alec flashed her a dimpled grin as his gaze roamed over her. “You look beat. Gorgeous, but beat. You should rest.”
She remembered Alec liked to flirt. He was quite handsome, in a boy-next-door kind of way. Tall and muscular. Shaggy blond hair and impish blue eyes. She would bet those dimples had gotten him out of a lot of trouble over the years. Or gotten him whatever he wanted.
“Are you trying to get me to go to sleep so I won’t know where you’re taking me?”
He looked appalled. “Not at all. If I didn’t want you to know where we were going, I’d have tossed you in the trunk.”
She laughed. Some of the tension eased from her shoulders. “Okay, then. Where are we going?”
“To a cottage on Lake Buchanan.”
Well, that was easy. And way more than she’d gotten from Brandon. Encouraged, Regan went for broke. “And what will we find when we get there?”
Alec’s lips thinned. “Stab wound. The guy had surgery to repair the damage, the extent of which I don’t know. He left the hospital against the recommendation of his doctor. Busted some stitches and now has a raging fever.”
“Why didn’t Brandon tell me all of this on the phone?”
“Because phones can be tapped. Conver
sations recorded.”
Frustration got the better of her. “Safe from who? From what? Who is the injured man?”
Alec shook his head. “I’m afraid I can’t answer those questions, doc. And if you need a power nap, now is the time to do it. Once we get there, it could be a while before you get any rest.”
Regan dropped her head to the back of the seat. She rolled her head until she faced the window. It was dark, so she couldn’t see much. And she was tired. Thankfully, the military had taught her how to sleep anywhere, anytime.
Regan closed her eyes and wondered what in the hell Brandon was getting her into.
Chapter Four
“Wake up, sleeping beauty. We’re almost there.” Alec nudged her thigh with two gentle pats.
Regan didn’t wake slowly. Another trick she’d learned from being a military doctor. More times than she could count, her sleep had been interrupted. When lives were on the line, she didn’t have the luxury of sipping coffee and watching the morning news to shake off the fog of sleep. Her mind had to be on point in an instant. So, the moment Alec’s voice registered, she was awake and alert.
Regan straightened and looked out the window, trying to ascertain their location. “What time is it?”
“Close enough to say midnight.”
Oh wow. Talk about a power nap. She’d been asleep for over an hour. It wasn’t enough to sustain her long-term, but she’d be good for a few hours.
She stretched her back with a twist to the left, then to the right. Reached down to touch her shoes. Since she was there, she flexed her toes. She pulled the tips of her shoes back, stretching her lower legs. She sat back and flexed her neck.
“You’re like a fighter preparing to enter the ring,” Alec joked. He turned the wheel, easing the car onto a gravel road.
She swallowed hard. “Just working out the kinks of a long shift followed by a car nap.”
“As opposed to cat nap?” Alec laughed. “Good one, doc.”
The Omega Team: No Control (Kindle Worlds Novella) (The Martin Family Book 3) Page 2