by Grady, D. R.
Flat out running to her SUV, Janine fired up the engine and raced home, passing anyone who got in the way of the mile between her and Greg’s house. What if she didn’t get there in time? Her house didn’t look any different than when she left a few minutes ago. She parked in the grass and eased out of the vehicle.
If nothing had happened and her cousins were still washing dishes, she’d look stupid. Janine didn’t care. Easing onto the front porch, she peered into the window. A knot tightened in her throat.
Several chairs were overturned and a dark pool of liquid splattered the floor. Her throat nearly closed off with fear and denial. Janine used her key to open the front door and locked it as soon as she entered. Her heart pounded in her ears as she merged with the western shadows.
Please let them be okay, she prayed silently.
Two more silent steps brought her to the entrance of the kitchen where her cousins should be. Janine saw no one, but several of her plates and glasses lay in shards on the kitchen floor. Several small appliances were out of place, like someone had banged against them.
Glancing into the dining room, Janine saw nothing, so she trod over the broken dinnerware and into the mud room. More blood, judging from the smell, dotted the walls and floor and even the door. The laundry detergent lay on the floor, and the blue liquid merged with a puddle of blood. Her heart hammering so hard Janine thought she might pass out, she backed out of the room and headed for her office.
But she had to pass the stairs first, so she took them, moving as silently as she could. Three minutes later revealed no one in the upstairs rooms. Janine wanted to shut herself in her bedroom and hide in her bed. Maybe pull her pillow over her head and forget this problem.
Instead she careened down the stairs and into her office.
And realized she had made a huge mistake.
Never assume you’re alone until you make certain. Then double check. That was the first rule of her former trade. Yet in her panic, she’d managed to break that rule. The man waiting for her had a gun trained on her.
Janine’s heart rate actually settled. This threat wasn’t new. She had faced down guns before. What worried her were the eyes of the man holding the weapon. She had met sadistic, twisted people before. Cataloging this man with that number did not comfort her.
“Where are they?” Her voice sounded hard, in control. Good. Because she feared she might wet her pants. Not a good move. But terror for her family and Greg rose up to taunt her.
As she expected, the man laughed. A chilling, knowing laugh Janine immediately didn’t like. “You’re not really in any position to ask questions are you?” His voice was silky and smooth, and that upped her fear factor by several notches.
This man was used to winning. So was she, once she knew all she needed to know. Unfortunately, she had no idea what she faced. Staring into his eyes, all Janine could think about were monsters.
The fist slammed into her face, and she felt something crumple. Maybe her confidence, maybe some bone. The sound of the blow reverberated through her brain. Janine prepared for the next strike, and faced a decision. She could escape to her special place. That spot where nothing could touch her, nothing could harm her. She would be safe there. Only the problem was if she did so, she couldn’t help her family.
These fiends would use them against her. She had known that from the very start. They would suffer. Janine didn’t know if Greg was nearby. Was he alive? She hadn’t been able to glean any information from the creature sent to bring her in. She still had no idea where here was.
The “interrogation” room was bleak and cold. The space was well lit, but that’s about all that could be said for the torture chamber. Janine wanted to scream in frustration and cower in fear, but refused. She needed to know what had happened to Jonathan and Tasmin, and screaming and cowering wouldn’t aid her in that. Were they okay? Were they alive? At the moment, her family’s safety depended on her. And what about Greg?
Clenching her jaw, Janine fortunately took the next punch there. She kept it clenched, and the pain dissipated faster. Her entire childhood after the age of five had played out exactly like this, it was something she understood. Still, she thought about Ryan. She’d been younger than his current age when her uncle started hurting her. Janine made a vow. Ryan would never know this kind of pain so long as there was breath in her body.
“This is fun, let’s do the other woman next,” one of her captors said. Tasmin, they had Tasmin. Janine kept her cry of outrage and denial to herself. Silence daunted those who abused. So they could join her in Hades before they heard a single utterance from her.
The next blow caught her off guard because she wasn’t paying attention. When her head snapped back in response to the blow, Janine had to bite her lip to keep from screaming. Pain exploded along her jaw, and she could taste blood on her lips. Her blood. The image of the blood she found in her and Greg’s houses rose again.
The next punch landed on her stomach. The bonds holding her to the chair kept her from doubling up properly. Janine sucked in a breath, and tightened her muscles. They protested, still reeling from the first blow, but the second one she barely felt. They would have to do better than this to elicit a reaction from her.
Her brother Ben had likely undergone beatings as part of his career training, as had Greg. But if any of these demons touched either of them she planned to rip them apart. When the next blow came, Janine was ready. Her special place would have to wait, because some special people needed her more. Instead, a red haze exploded across her vision and Janine opened her mouth with a scream of rage.
Adrenaline pumped through her veins, fueling her anger, intensifying the red haze. She used the surge to escape the bonds securing her. They should have used metal. That would have slowed her down at least.
When she hurtled off the chair, her hand clenched into a fist and for the first time ever, she hit someone in anger. One punch set the man on his heels. The second dropped him. The next man in line, the scary one, stumbled away from her, but with another yell, Janine’s nostrils flared as she took in the scent of blood and knew it was hers. They had deliberately spilled Greg’s and Jonathan’s and Tasmin’s as well. That angered her more than the thought of her own blood dripping to the floor. The scary man screamed as she sent him careening into the wall. His head made a sickening sound as it thumped against the concrete. His body slid down the wall to land in a heap.
She knocked the next man to the floor with a drop kick and spun on her heel to take out another. Each man, seen through that red haze, tried to hurt her or her family, but Janine decided she had endured enough of that. Never again. She didn’t deserve it and she would never take that sort of abuse again.
Only death would stop her.
Janine clenched her hand into another fist and with a cry that echoed through the room, smashed it into the face of the man who sought to hurt her family. Before the Morrisons, she’d have escaped to her special place. Not now. There was no victory from the pain this day. Now the pain only made her stronger. And a little crazy.
With a determination fueled by fear, Janine battled her way to the door. When she arrived there, she saw something she hadn’t noticed earlier. Up in the rafters – movement. Oh no.
Her inattention earned her a punch that snapped her into the wall behind her. One of the men managed to slam her ribs with enough force they gave. Another one punched her in the face and her lips split and stung.
Janine watched the rafters, though, as she knocked another man through the door. He hit the stairs and tumbled down with a choked, cut-off scream. Those in the ceiling were very skilled. That worried her.
Slight, subtle, and knowledgeable. Oh, please, no. As she entertained the thought of running, those in the rafters tumbled onto each of the men she hadn’t managed to overcome yet.
Leading the pack was none other than Ben. Bless him.
Janine paused for a second and received another blow to the same cheekbone they’d already hit. She bit
off an unladylike utterance and instead brought her foot up to smash into the man’s face. His face shattered and satisfaction oozed from the thought of a job well done.
She had to thrust the doctor part of her far into the depths of herself. None of these men would escape unscathed. They had too much to pay for. Too many of them had sought to hurt her own. No longer. Janine, fueled by the SEALs arrival, fought harder.
When the last man had been rounded up, Ben squeezed her and she squeaked. Her ribs were definitely broken. “That was some fighting, Janine.” His compliment raised one of her brows.
“And you kicked some major booty without a weapon,” one of his team members added.
“I had weapons.” Janine kept her voice cool. She was retired now, she could afford to reveal a few of her skills.
“Where?” a young SEAL asked. The man glanced around her as though wondering what she was packing and why he couldn’t see it.
“You’re not the only ones in this room whose feet and hands are classified as weapons.” Janine turned away to help secure the fallen men. They would see prison cells if it killed her. Which it might. And speaking of killing, where were Greg, Jonathan, and Tasmin? Her heart lurched back up into her windpipe. Oh please let them be okay.
“Your hands and feet are classified as weapons?”
Janine turned back to Ben and his incredulous question. She’d forgotten the conversation already. She raised an eyebrow again. “What, you think only a SEAL has such skills?”
Nearly all of Ben’s team stared at her like they’d never seen her before.
“How does a doctor get those skills?”
“I’m not only a doctor. I served two terms in Kuwait and a stint in Johannesburg.”
“She is a former member of Michael Lamont’s team,” Greg’s voice said as he dropped from another area of the roof. His face was in shadow.
“Lamont. Heard you were dead,” Freemont, another SEAL said.
“Lamont is dead,” Greg answered as he stepped into the light. The doctor in her was concerned about the blood spattering his shirt and face. And his home. And her home.
“He doesn’t look anything like Lamont,” Beaumont said briskly when Greg stepped forward.
Since Greg didn’t offer any information about who he was, Janine didn’t either. She thought Ben likely recognized him, despite the fact he didn’t sport Lamont’s dark hair and brown eyes, but kept his mouth shut on the subject. Protect family at all costs.
Janine started to feel the aches and pains the men’s fists and feet had inflicted on her as her last surge of adrenaline wore off. She thought about her secret place, but that’s as far as the idea went. They had to make certain they had no family here before she’d think about herself.
Turning to Ben, Janine asked, “What are you doing here?”
“O’Riley suspected there might be some trouble. Then Gilmore called. He sent us out to assist you.”
“If we’d known about your “weapons”, we probably would have stayed home and had a party,” Shively, the one nicknamed Tigger, stated and Janine smacked him. He danced out of her range, guffawing. Janine tried to grin at him, but that hurt.
She must have winced because Greg and Ben both crowded around her to peer at her face. “I’m fine,” she said, even though it hurt to talk. Her ribs felt like they’d been set on fire, and she might have broken her left hand. It wasn’t responding to her brain signals.
“Yeah, you look fine,” Greg muttered.
She raised an eyebrow. That hurt, too. Was there any part of her body that wasn’t going to torment her? Cataloging her injuries would have to wait though because they still had work to do.
“Is everyone safe?” She heard the intensity in her voice, and saw a similar fleeting emotion in Greg’s eyes.
“Yes,” Greg said. “Jonathan and Tasmin were both here, but I sent them on with Aunt Tilly.”
“They’re okay?” Ben wiped a cloth over her face while Janine tried to squirm away. He gave a long suffering sigh.
“Hello, you’re not Kale or Kyla, you’re supposed to sit still when I do this.”
Janine stared at him, disgust forming a cloud in the back of her mind. “How do I know you’re qualified to treat my injuries?”
“I’m a dad.”
“The fact that he’s a SEAL doesn’t qualify him or anything,” Rex Beaumont said, his quiet voice lifting her spirits. She knew Rex and she had shown him several treatments.
“You, I trust,” she said and turned to him. Ben handed over the cloth.
“I’d probably trust Beaumont over me, too.”
“Ow.” Movement caused more pressure on her cheek, which felt like it’d crumpled. Hopefully it was only bruised. She could handle bruised. Anything else, she refused to think about. That made things safer.
“We need to get you to a hospital,” Beaumont stated as he expertly cleaned her wounds.
“Not until we finish up here.”
“That’s what my team is here to do,” Ben inserted.
“We’ve done this a time or two,” Freemont added.
“We can probably handle the clean up,” Shively said. “Any more bad guys come at us, we all scream like girls and flap our hands like this, right?” He acted out a perfect impression of a gaggle of preteens who had just spotted a spider.
“Yeah, like I’m leaving you all now.” Ow, but talking hurt.
While the guys all took turns throwing things at Shively, Janine glanced around and noticed Greg was nowhere to be seen. How did the man manage to disappear like that?
“There’s not much to do here,” his voice said right behind her.
Janine’s heart jumped, and her ribs ached when she started. She turned to glare at him. He held up his hands in the “I surrender” pose. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.”
“How can you scare a woman whose feet and hands are classified as weapons?” Ben asked. He sounded interested in the answer.
Janine ignored him.
Shively leaned forward, his nose almost touching hers. “You need to see a doctor. But you have very nice pores, Morris.”
Janine flicked his nose and rolled her eyes. “I am a doctor. I’m fine.”
A general masculine rumble went round the room and Janine looked up to see she was surrounded by the SEALs and Greg. Greg’s power, subtle and evocative, filled the small confine the men made around her.
“You need medical treatment,” Greg stated, standing shoulder to shoulder with Ben and Beaumont.
“Immediate medical attention,” Shively said from behind her. She poked him, realizing his intention was to startle her again. Janine pitied the woman who ended up with the man.
“I’m fine.”
“Yeah,” Greg said before he swooped in on her. He lifted her carefully but her ribs still slammed against his. She gasped, as involuntary tears seeped from her eyes.
“You don’t look or act fine,” Beaumont said. His quiet words sounded loud to her ears. A roaring followed on the tail end.
Janine blinked up at Greg, and saw concern there. Or maybe she wished she saw concern there. In either case, she realized she wouldn’t win against these strong willed men, not the entire team of them. And at this point, her pain had ratcheted up to the point where she would soon have to escape to her special place to disengage herself from the intensity.
That meant she wouldn’t be any good to anyone. Zombies didn’t offer much in the way of aid.
“Everyone is okay?” Her words sounded odd. Like her tongue had suddenly grown to twice its size.
“Yes.” Greg’s voice hadn’t lost any authority, so she believed him.
“Okay,” she said, but it sounded slurred, like she’d had too much to drink. But I don’t drink, she thought, right before she passed out.
Chapter 30
“Anyone want to vote on Janine being fine?” Shively asked the circle in general, and Greg would have laughed, only Janine had suddenly gone limp in his arms. That concerned him.
r /> “She’s passed out,” he said and the men jumped into action, exactly like he expected from a SEAL team.
“I’ve got an ambulance on the way,” Ben said.
Beaumont stayed right next to Janine, checking her vital signs as Greg strode to the door. He held precious cargo in his arms, and he wasn’t about to lose her.
Even though he knew she commanded skills to balance his team, he’d had no idea of the level of warrior she had attained. He still couldn’t believe she alone took out close to ten men, by herself, with only her hands and her feet. Most men couldn’t have done that. Janine had taken some nasty blows, strikes that would have taken most warriors down, but he watched her firm her lips and keep going.
It was at that moment that he finally understood he was in love with her. When the realization crashed over him – that he loved Janine Morris, it had slowed him down. Each moment he hesitated she was in danger and that spurred him back into frantic action.
He planned to join her as soon as he got close enough, and was relieved to see Ben’s Navy SEAL team drop out of nowhere to help her. Even though she’d been doing fine without them. He should have arrived sooner. Then she wouldn’t have had to face the small army on her own. Yet he’d made the decision to save her family first, knowing that’s what she’d want.
Remorse, an emotion he only enjoyed a passing acquaintance with, threatened to drag him under. Greg fought the confines as he made for the door and the ambulance he could hear in the distance. Because he’d been slow to act, Janine had been injured. Her family had been injured.
He thought about Jonathan Morris. The man had fought off their attackers like he had some training. And Tasmin hadn’t stood by and screamed. She managed to throw some excellent punches and several kicks that spoke of martial arts training and experience. He approved of wealthy parents who made certain their offspring could defend themselves. Neither brother nor sister had folded until they were literally rapped over the head, sorely outnumbered.