Captor Mine (Base Branch Series Book 13)

by Megan Mitcham

  It was a wonder no one had called the cops yet. Trey’s questions and accusations turned to extreme outbursts.

  Unflappable, Kat continued. “He stole me when I was a baby.”

  “No. No. No,” Trey’s denial grew quieter with each disagreement.

  Footsteps squeaked across the floor.

  “You may have a family out there, Trey.”

  “No,” he whispered.

  Hunter didn’t like the change in the guy’s tone. Loud he could deal with. Quiet? Quiet meant thinking, plotting, planning. None of Trey’s plans would end well for Kat.

  “Trey, do you remember when we first met?”

  “Of course.”

  “We went to the hospital, and the doctor set your broken arm.”

  “So?”

  “That’s the reason I wanted to become a doctor. I saw how that doctor helped you, and I wanted to help people.”

  “Well, glad I could help.”

  “Trey?” There was silence for three long heartbeats.

  “What?”

  “Did Tor break your arm?”

  Trey hollered. There was a loud thud and scuffle. Caution be damned, Hunter rounded the corner.

  A rectangular dining table hit the floor, legs up. Trey wrenched Kat from the chair by her neck. She didn’t fight but held Trey’s arm with one hand. The other she kept loose at her side.

  When her eyes collided with Hunter’s, she didn’t flinch. It was almost as though she’d expected him to pop around the corner.

  “You!” Trey yanked Kat more fully in front of his body, forcing her to become a human shield.

  “Me.” Hunter nodded. “I’m the one who killed your uncle. I’m the one who killed your father.”

  The handsome man snarled, revealing the hideous beast that lurked beneath the surface. He edged toward the counter. A knife block sat full and too close for Hunter’s comfort. If Trey reached the knives before Hunter could get a shot, things wouldn’t go well. In real life, there were no duck and shoot signals between hostages and soldiers. He could take a shot, but he couldn’t force himself to shoot Kat, even if it was to save her life.

  “Here.” Hunter dropped his gun on the ground and kicked it down the hallway.

  “No.” Kat’s eyes bulged as Trey clamped down on her throat, choking off her plea.

  The only thing Hunter could do was get his attention. “I’m unarmed and one legged. Let her go and come and get the one you really want.”

  Tears filled Kat’s eyes.

  If Hunter could get his hands on that little shit, he could end this in seconds. He just had to entice Trey. “Tor was a real sicko. I honestly wouldn’t be surprised if he beat you into submission since you were too little to know any different.”

  “Shut up,” Trey screamed.

  “I really don’t want to know if he visited your room at night.” Hunter shook his head. “I can’t even let my mind go there. But there are some sickos in the world.”

  Trey threw Kat to the side. She landed on the table between him and the crazy man.

  “Kat, run and don’t stop.” Hunter ordered.

  “She’s not going anywhere. Neither are you.” Trey reached behind his back and pulled a shiny silver pistol from his waistband. He leveled the barrel at Kat. His sick, dark eyes remained fixed on Hunter. A wretched smile spread across his face.

  At that moment, Hunter knew two things. One, Trey Royan was Tor’s biological son, and two, he was about to die, saving the woman he loved.

  Hunter launched himself through the air.

  Two shots filled the room.

  This time, just like the last, he didn’t feel much. Then he collided with Royan. They crashed to the ground. Hunter wrestled the gun from his fingers and slid it toward Kat. If she needed to, she could defend herself. Blood pooled on the floor, but until the last drop left his body, Hunter would maim this bastard.

  “Hunter.” Kat called his name.

  He reared back to elbow Royan in the face but found it listing to the side. The man’s dark eyes stared into the distance that was far beyond this plane.

  Hunter eased back. Two bullet holes centered Trey Royan’s chest. He turned to Kat.

  She dropped the pistol he’d given her at the lake house next to her thigh. The gun he’d ripped from Trey’s fingers lay on the floor between them. “Is he dead?”

  With two fingers, he checked for a pulse and then scrambled off the corpse and over to Kat. He pulled her into his arms and crushed her to his chest. He rocked her for a long time in the quiet. Finally, he sat back. Her warm cheeks cupped in his hands; he studied her face. “I’m so sorry.”

  “I’m not.” Kat’s head shook as much as his hands would allow.

  “I never wanted to put you in that position.”

  “You didn’t. He did.” Her lips pressed against the edge of his hand. “I tried to talk him down. You tried to end it without killing him.”

  “My fucking bad,” Hunter growled.

  “You didn’t know he had the gun.” She hugged him close. “And if I’m telling the truth, I’m glad to know it’s over. He’s the last Royan I’ll ever have to worry about.”

  28

  “All right, Doctor.” The detective closed his notebook that contained her answers to the forty thousand questions he’d asked. At least this time she was able to answer them on the pillowy softness of her own couch as opposed to the unforgiving metal chairs at the Base Branch Headquarters. He leaned in. “We’ll need you to come down to the precinct tomorrow and give a formal statement.” Well, damn. Back into the hard chair she’d go.

  “Yes, sir.”

  The brawny man stood and adjusted the too small suit over his large frame.

  “Detective Kirk?”

  He lifted a stubble covered chin in question.

  “Hunter Masters, is he still here?”

  Kirk scoffed. “Doctor, I thought we were going to have to ring his bell and drag him outside to get him away from you.” They could have tried. “If Reno is done questioning him, I’m sure Masters is on the front stoop waiting for the green light to come inside. But I’ll check. Are you going to be okay in here by yourself?”

  “Yes. Thank you.”

  Kat looked around her apartment. All the furniture had been set to right minus the smudges of powder from the fingerprinting. The glass and plastic had been swept up and placed in an evidence bag. Most importantly, the dead body had been removed from her kitchen, and all remnants of it had been wiped away. If only she could wipe clean her mind as easily. She’d done the right thing without question. Living with that choice, though…

  The door opened, and Hunter stepped inside with a fresh shirt on his chest and concern on his face.

  Living with that choice meant living with Hunter. And that she could deal with. She would enjoy living with it with him if he’d have her.

  Detective Kirk stepped in behind Hunter. “There’s a slew of people out here waiting to see you two. We’re wrapping it up on our end, but we’ll keep the crime scene tape up for a few minutes. I expect y’all want some quiet time before the onslaught.”

  “Thanks, Detective.” Hunter waved.

  The man nodded and closed the door behind him.

  Who all was out there? Hunter’s people? Kat didn’t have people…but now she did.

  “Patrick and Trish are out there.” Hunter nodded to her unvoiced question.

  “Oh. Are they okay?”

  “I talked to them. They know what happened, and that you’re not hurt. They’ll be better once they see you for themselves.”

  She bet they were worried sick when she didn’t show up at their house. Lord. That in and of itself was enough to give Patrick a heart attack. She needed to get him lined up with a good heart doctor and get him exercising with Trish. They had to be around for forever.

  “I know you’re worried about them, but they’re strong. They’ve been through a ton and have come out the other side of it an impenetrable unit because they lean on eac
h other and lift each other up.”

  Hunter stepped closer and knelt in front of her. Kat grabbed his face in her hands and eased her cheek to his. Warmth radiated through them. Moving back and forth, one to the other, they shared the burden, the sorrow, the immense joy, and the excitement of things to come. She pulled back and crushed their mouths together. Her hands ran over his neck and chest and then down his arms with the need to feel he was whole and there for her. It was only then she noticed one of his hands hidden behind his back.

  “Not so fast, Doc. You’re going to make me skip over things.”

  “Things?”

  His smile brightened the room that dimmed with the waning daylight. “I had time to think while we were apart.”

  “You had time to find my family.” Tears slipped down Kat’s cheeks even though she’d bargained with herself about not crying again today. “I’ll never be able to thank you enough for that. Never.”

  “The look on your face is enough for me.” He smoothed the hair from her cheek, grabbed it at her nape, and pulled her close. “But I do recall an enticing message about using your body to thank me. I’m not opposed to that.” His grin melted her heart. He chuckled and released her.

  “I had a lot of time to think about me and my issues; lack of commitment for fear of investing and losing, the future of my career. I’m not fired from Base Branch, and I even got a shiny medal for saving Ollie’s tail.”

  “Oh, my goodness. That’s amazing.”

  “It is pretty nice.” He grabbed her hand and smoothed his finger over her knuckles. The contact sent a wave of tingles rolling across her skin. “How are you doing with your issues?” His lips pressed against her knuckles. “I’m not trying to pry, but I need to know where you are in that pretty head of yours.”

  “I called you.”

  He offered an excessive grin. “I needed you to meet your parents before you dealt with me.”

  “Several times,” she continued, “to tell you that I have a therapist, and I’m mulling through all my stuff. I feel like me but better than I’ve ever been.”

  “Was that all you wanted to tell me?”

  “If you’d answered or called me back, you’d know. Wouldn’t you?” She poked him in the ribs they’d nursed back to health.

  “Hey, I showed up today for a very important reason that had nothing to do with Trey. And fuck, Kat, I’m glad I did.”

  She nodded and pulled him to her until they were chest to chest. To hell with the surprise flowers behind his back. She’d smelled them soon after he’d knelt. Her fingers hit something hard. Intrigue snared her, and her fingers explored the object. It was big.

  “You little sneak.” He set her back on the couch and straightened only the second button-down shirt she’d ever seen him wear—the first having been covered in blood. “I’ve never been a romantic, so I got a little help with these and a candle lit dinner we probably won’t get to tonight.” Hunter handed over the most beautiful bouquet of red, pink, yellow, white, and orange roses. “They all mean something different. Of course, right now I can only remember pink because I admire the hell out of you, Doc. And I remember red because I love you like nothing else.”

  Kat hugged him so hard she squealed.

  “As I said, I had help with those, but this…” He handed over a stunning leather-bound dictionary with gold embossing that read American Dictionary of the English Language. A white square of paper had been taped over the bottom portion of the front cover and yellow and pink tabs stuck out on the top from the gold-edged papers. They were all numbered. Yellow was one through three. Pink was one through four. “This I did all by myself.”

  “What’s all this?” Kat hugged the sturdy book to her chest and stared at the tabs and then at Hunter’s wide, excited eyes.

  “Look at the yellow tabs first.”

  “Okay.” Kat’s cheeks hurt from smiling so much, which she never expected to happen after their morning, but this was what Hunter did to her. He made her face her troubles so she could release them and enjoy life.

  She set the book in her lap and pulled open the page with the first yellow tab. On the hyperirritability through hypochondrium page, hypernova was highlighted yellow. “Oh, my…” Kat covered her mouth with one hand. With the other, she flipped to the second word hypocaust, and then the next word desire. “Hunter.” Her finger sank into the collar of his shirt and held tight to this man who got her when no one else in the world did. “I love it so much. I can’t even find a word to define how much I love it.”

  “We’re not done yet.” He smiled, took both her hands, rubbed the tears off them onto his shirt, released her, and motioned for her to grab the book.

  Impossibly, she loved him more for protecting the thin pages from her tears.

  “Now pink, in order, and you have to read the highlighted definitions.”

  “Okay.” Her head bobbed, and her fingers flew over the silky soft pages.

  Her fingers landed on the page with definitions from wild-eyed to wimple. She had no idea what wimple meant, but that wasn’t the point of this exercise. Not that she had a clue what the exercise was, but she was dying to figure it out. Her fingers scrolled down. Found it.

  “Will - Third definition. Expressing a request.” She looked at him for a signal to what it all meant. He shooed her on to the next tab.

  Yokel through yuck. “You - First definition. Used to refer to the person or people who the speaker is addressing.”

  These were all easy words. She’d known their definitions since she was a little girl. Her fingers flipped to the next tab.

  Marquess through marvel. “Marry—”

  Kat’s mouth fell open. She looked at Hunter. His gaze was narrow; his mouth clamped between his teeth. Had she ever seen him—the man who was down a leg and still launched himself at people trying to hurt her—nervous?

  She swallowed, licked her lips, and started again. “Marry - Definitions one and two. Join in marriage.” Her fingers tingled on the page. “Cause to meet or fit together; combine.” Her fingers flipped furiously to the final tab. It wasn’t far away.

  “Me - used by a speaker to refer to himself or herself as the object of a verb or preposition.” Her tears fell in earnest.

  Hunter took the book and set it beside her. He cradled her hands in his rough ones. “I’m no woman’s hero, Kat, but I want to be yours.”

  “You already are mine.” She squeezed his hands.

  “Says the woman who’s saved me twice.” He held her chin and leaned close. “Kat, I love you. I admire you.” He pulled the white rectangle of paper from the front cover. The gold embossing read Kat Masters. “I want to spend the rest of my life leaning on you and holding you up. Will you marry me?”

  Epilogue

  “Who’d have thought the three of you would get married?” Khani Slaughter stalked forward—because she walked that way—with Street. Their former leader and her man looked smoother than a Calvin Klein ad in matching black outfits. Khani’s sleek dress hugging a lot closer than Street’s suit.

  “Not to each other is the surprising part, I think.” Oliver poked the pin through the collection of tiny roses on Hunter’s lapel and clapped him on the back.

  “I’m not hitched.” Tyler threw up his hand.

  “That’s only because Cara doesn’t believe in marriage,” Hunter offered.

  Tyler rolled his eyes. “Women. I thought they all wanted to get married, and I fall in love with the one who doesn’t.”

  “Not all.” King stopped in front of them and held his arm out for Khani. “If I’ve learned anything over the past two years, it’s that women are complex, strong creatures who’ll keep you on your toes better than any adversary.”

  “Hey, I’m not hitched either, so let’s get this show on the road.” Hunter kissed Khani’s cheek, shook Street’s thick hand, and opened the door to the ballroom of the historical manor for them to head inside. He didn’t look into the room where Base Branch soldiers and staffers from all
over the country and the world gathered along with Kat’s family and friends to witness his and Kat’s marriage.

  “I see Zeke and Greer,” Khani whispered to her lover, and he closed the door behind them.

  The back door opened nearly in sync with his closing of the other one. Magdalena stepped inside and stopped cold. Someone bumped into her back. Mags braced both hands on either side of the opening and barred their entrance. “You bloody fools.” She waved one hand, swishing them wildly toward the front of the building. “You’re supposed to go around the front. The bride comes in the back.”

  “Wow! Your accent is thick when you’re bossing people around,” Oliver poked.

  “Law would say that’s all the time.” Hunter should have kept his mouth shut. He knew Mags better than the two friends with whom he stood. Since he and Kat had stayed in her childhood home for almost two months, the two women had become best friends, inseparable even by the thousands of miles between them.

  Mags hiked the gray dress that revealed no hint to the fact that she had a six-month-old baby. Well, her boobs were bigger, but he wasn’t supposed to notice things like that anymore. Old habits.

  “Hunter Masters, so help me. If you see Kat before she comes walking down the aisle, I’ll steal your leg and give it to the girls,” Mags threatened.

  Behind him, the guys erupted in laughter. The girls were being raised by the best operatives in Base Branch history. His friends didn’t realize how illusive Sloan and Baine’s operatives in training were.

  Mags didn’t realize how badly he wanted to see Kat. He walked toward the door, and the woman’s eyes bulged. Her cheeks bloomed with red. “Don’t you dare come over here. You can’t break tradition.”

  “Look around, Mags.” He gestured to the grand colonial manor. “If we weren’t breaking tradition, I’d be in the back working the fields.”

  “Match point, Masters.” Magdalena nodded.

  “Hunter?” Kat’s voice curved around the door and arrowed straight to his heart. “I didn’t even think about that when Mom and Dad set up the venue.”