Fight By The Team (Team Fear Book 2)

by Cindy Skaggs

  “Then they’re more likely to be affected by the use of amphetamines,” Ryder finished.

  “So if the Army targeted different groups for different results...” Debi let the idea hang.

  Fowler picked up her train of thought. “We were picked for our loyalty to team and country.”

  “And Echo was chosen for their psychotic imbalance,” Craft finished.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Craft paced, his camo pants standing out against the cozy interior. “Any doctor or clinician in the research arena would know these side effects?”

  Debi nodded.

  “So Echo wasn’t an accident?”

  “No.” At least Debi didn’t believe so. “Not if it affected all twelve men. For you guys, fearlessness promoted good results. Maybe better than good if you’re looking at traditional warfare, but for a man prone to psychosis...”

  “No fear. No restraint. And the government set them free. Stateside.” Ryder dropped back against the sofa. “They’re a ticking fucking time bomb.

  Stills dropped his head between his knees. “Betting aside, how sure are you on all this shit?”

  Debi chewed the nail on her middle finger. “The side effects are a fact. My original formula is a fact, but until I reverse engineer the mixture from the syringe, the combined formula that includes steroids and amphetamines is an educated guess.”

  A fist slammed the wall, shaking plaster loose. Rose struck again, ramming straight through the lathing strips. “Of every meat sack in this room, who do you think Echo wants to silence most?”

  Seconds ticked down on the clock, but before the hand struck twelve, every man’s eye turned to her. Well, hell. She knew the original research as good or better than anyone. She knew the players and had accessed the lab. Made her the perfect whistleblower, or a target, depending on how you looked at it. Debi shivered, and her mouth ran ahead of her brain. “Guess we know how to draw Echo into the open.”

  “The first man to suggest it forfeits his life.” Rose stalked from the room in a trail of testosterone and rage.

  Janet didn’t bother telling him to clean up the broken plaster. Even a badass like Fowler’s mom knew when not to push.

  The rage flowing through his veins hadn’t cooled when Debi tracked him down to the workout room. He needed space. He’d wanted revenge on the men who did this to him, and Debi’s admission had stolen that from him. “Now’s not the time, sweetheart.” The endearment couldn’t hide the venom in his tone. The more he listened upstairs, the greater the anger. She had put herself at risk, both in the lab and again, now, by being alone with him. She had watched him beat a man to death. The sight of blood had started her panic attacks as a kid. She hated blood, yet she’d ended up covered in it. The panic attacks were sure to get worse. Because of him. There was no way to heal the damage he’d caused.

  She peered around the room, avoiding his gaze. “I have a way to gain access to the team’s medical files, or at least get access to the drug information.”

  “No.” He kicked the treadmill up a notch.

  “When Allyson and I were at the café, I hadn’t put two and two together about Barry’s involvement. Now that I have, we can have her skip the testing and go straight for Barry’s records.”

  “And how would that work?” He needed to know she wasn’t walking into danger again, because even as anger flowed through him, he needed her safe. He kept his gaze on the wall in front of the treadmill.

  “I know where he keeps his research records.”

  She wanted to go in? “I said no.” All he wanted with the time he had left on this planet was to protect his sisters. Protect Debi, and she made that damn hard when she put herself in the line of fire. Temper disrupted his run and he spewed it on her. He hopped off the treadmill and got so close he smelled her fear.

  Her spine stiffened and he could see her digging in. “Why won’t you even discuss it?” she asked.

  There were two options facing him, and they both sucked big hairy donkey balls. Either he would hurt her when his anger cut loose and he wasn’t able to contain it, or he’d fail to protect her. He couldn’t live with either. “We’re done. Do you hear me? Done.”

  She flinched as his words struck home. Tears glistened in her eyes, but she batted them back before walking away.

  Morning came with a giant headache pounding in Rose’s skull. Camy plopped a scoop of oatmeal into a bowl and headed for him, but Rose shooed her away. He didn’t have time for his baby sister when the shit barreling down on them was about to land. He needed her the fuck away. He needed her and Debi a million miles from where they were right now. Debi sat cattycorner from him, and when he shook Camy off, she moved to sit next to Debi.

  Great, his sister teaming up with his almost girlfriend. Rose scooped a heaping pile of eggs on his plate and shoved the serving bowl at Craft. Hard.

  “What crawled up your ass?”

  Across the table, Debi and Camy glanced up.

  “Watch your mouth.” Rose didn’t want to deal with Craft’s shit today.

  “What did I miss?” Stills grabbed a biscuit and cut it open on his plate. Steam rose.

  “Something has Rose pissy this morning,” Craft answered. His gaze tracked between Rose and Debi sitting on opposite sides of the table.

  “I’m pretty sure it crawled up his ass last night and stayed there.” Fowler dug into biscuits and gravy like it was food of the gods.

  This was why Rose kept his mouth shut. No one needed to know his business. He was angry as hell at Debi, and not for the reason she believed. Echo wanted to get rid of the men of Team Fear because they were walking evidence, but Debi had the background to blow the experiment wide open if she went to the press. She was a target and he wanted to lock her up, but it didn’t matter what he thought, because every member of the team had rallied around her last night, because he’d lost his shit. And he never lost it. He kept it tightly contained.

  And the hell of it was, he hadn’t slept a god-damned wink because his bed was fucking cold and his feet stuck out the bottom of his small fucking bed. He couldn’t look at Debi without wanting to roll her in bubble wrap and move her to Alaska, which she wouldn’t allow because he was being a he-man in her estimation. And damnit all to hell, when had his life revolved around an entire fucking team when he wanted five minutes alone to set his woman straight? So he spooned eggs into his mouth and wished them all away.

  The sound of forks hitting plates was the only sound for long minutes until Lauren and Ryder walked through holding hands. “Hey, morning, everyone.” Lauren fairly glowed despite the bruises still marking her pretty face.

  Ryder held a chair for her and then went to get them coffee. The cocky swagger was enough to send Rose’s blood pressure up several notches. Asshole didn’t need to flaunt the fact that he was getting regular sex.

  Across from him, Camy smacked his hand to nudge him out of his thoughts. “Pass the gravy.”

  He passed the bowl, helping himself to more biscuits and gravy in the process. If he couldn’t have regular sex, at least he had regular meals. Lauren smiled at him like he hadn’t been a complete ass the night before, one more reason he liked and respected Ryder’s wife.

  Across from him, Debi stood and took her plate to the dishwasher. The tension in the room was like the air minutes before Hiroshima.

  “So, last night we decided.” Lauren cleared her throat. “Next time it’s our turn to cook, Ryder and I are having a barbeque. The whole deal. Potato salad, pasta salad, baked beans, grilled meat.” She glanced at Fowler. “Grocery wise, do you have what we need or do we need to go shopping?”

  “Probably have most of it,” Fowler answered. “We can make it happen.”

  “Good.” She smiled at the men. “We didn’t do this when you guys were active duty, but we should have. I should have, so we’re making it right. We’re a team, all of us now, so we should start acting like it.”

  Her sweetness made staying morose and angry near impo
ssible. “Burgers and brats? I’m there.”

  “How about beer?” Debi asked.

  “Not for the team,” Ryder answered. He set a cup of coffee in front of Lauren and took a seat. “That’s been on the forbidden list from day one.”

  “Echo drinks alcohol. They were at the bar all the time.”

  “And they’re mental. No alcohol,” Rose insisted.

  Debi ran hands over her thighs. “I’ve been thinking about it, and I believe the restriction was because of the amphetamines they may have used. Now that you’re not on the drug protocol, there shouldn’t be any reason you can’t have beer with dinner.”

  “I said no.” His tone brooked no argument. The rest of the room went silent.

  Debi released a slow breath like she was counting under her breath. “No need for you to do my physical therapy today. I’m training with Janet.”

  “Says who?” Rose asked.

  “Says me.” Janet stepped in from the pantry wearing digicamo and combat boots. If she looked like a civilian the last few days, it was because his eyes were jacked. There was no doubt the woman was a soldier. The clothes fit her small frame like they were custom made, but they weren’t shiny new. They had that comfortable, worn-in feel. There were no tears or fraying threads. A tan t-shirt peeked through the collar of her shirt. She pulled a clipboard off the dingy wall. “Schedule is up here every morning, and I’ve let you boys off easy. The girls want to train, so they train. KP is in addition to the daily training and we rotate. Last night’s cooking was on Lauren and Ryder. Tonight it’s Camy and Dean. Otherwise the daily training includes weapons, hand-to-hand, explosives, and escape and evasion.”

  Rose’s gaze cut to Debi. The bruises on her face were barely starting to fade. The damn bullet hole was barely sealed. She looked fragile. Training with her in hand-to-hand knotted up something inside. “Hell no.”

  “Hell yes,” Janet answered. “You got a problem with women in combat, soldier?”

  His gaze cut to Fowler who forked in a heavy bite. Rose couldn’t be the only one wanting to keep the women out of special training, but the others were too busy forking in chow and avoiding his gaze.

  Stills made eye contact with a heavy grin. “You dug that hole all on your own, son.”

  He turned back to Janet. A spark lit her eyes like she enjoyed this exchange, but Rose would rather chew glass. He had no doubt Janet could cut him open and filet him for dinner, because he wouldn’t move a single muscle against her. She was female, fragile, and deserving of protection. It wasn’t the women’s job to fight, but telling Janet so would likely end up getting him KP for the rest of his life, no matter how short that time might be.

  So he switched tactics. Looking at Debi, he slowly shook his head. “You’re still injured and on light duty for the foreseeable future. Physical therapy, yes. Training, no.”

  “Really?” She braced her one good arm on her hip. “You’re pulling the medic card?”

  He finished his last bite and pushed his plate back. “That’s right.”

  “Good to know. As it happens, that’s fine by me. I’d love thirty minutes alone with you.” Her tone implied she’d use the time to kick his ass. “Plus, if you’re running my physical therapy you won’t be around to rain on Camy’s parade.”

  He glanced across at Camy, sensing a trap, but Camy ignored the exchange as she passed a bowl of scrambled eggs down the table. “How’s that?”

  “Everybody trains.” Debi’s eyes glinted. “Even your sister.”

  “Oh, I wasn’t planning to ask his permission.” Camy stood, wearing yoga pants and a tight black t-shirt. “This should be fun.”

  Fun? As far as Rose was concerned, he had landed in hell.

  Training with Janet made every muscle in Debi’s body ache, but she couldn’t complain because she’d asked for it. Hell, she’d demanded it. And Janet had encouraged her, which should have been a warning. Debi had ignored it. Fool that she was. Rose had given her permission—damn but that burned—to train in kicks, but no hand-to-hand, after which he turned her physical therapy over to Fowler who was as cruel and unfeeling as his mother.

  Debi paused during a kicking lesson and leaned heavily against Camy. “The men are up to something. Do you have any idea what the plan is?”

  “No.” Her chest heaved with the extreme effort of keeping up with Janet Fowler. “They’re doing a good job of keeping us otherwise occupied today.”

  Somehow they’d used training to keep the women out of the loop. “Any word from Allyson?”

  “No.” Camy kicked the punching bag, hitting higher on the bag than she had a week ago. When she wasn’t training, she worked in the command post doing computer stuff Debi didn’t understand. “My brother still being an asshole?”

  Rose hadn’t spoken to Debi since the breakfast showdown. “Is he still breathing?”

  “As far as I know.”

  “Then he’s still an asshole.”

  “On a positive note.” Camy bent at the waist trying to get a solid breath. “He hasn’t asked me a question about school since I got here.”

  “Lucky you.”

  “Kick higher,” Janet ordered.

  Debi panted out a breath. “I take back every nice thing I ever said about you, Janet.”

  “Thank you. Now, move your ass.”

  They finished the lesson in silence because there wasn’t enough oxygen to talk and train. Janet didn’t take it easy on them because they were female. If anything, she expected more of them.

  When the lesson was over, Debi plopped onto the mat. She wasn’t sleeping much at night in her big cold bed, and that made her as frustrated as a cat in a cage. Rose had shut her down, not wanting her to take any risks, and the rest of the men had followed his lead. They wanted to fold the women in bubble wrap and keep them on a shelf, but they needed her access to get the information they sought. She didn’t see any option but around Rose and his stubborn wall of silence.

  “I need to get a message to Allyson.” But she didn’t want to endanger the team by trying to bypass security on her own. She did not have the skills. Camy did. “I delivered on the time to yourself,” she told Camy. Even if she wasn’t distracting Rose so much as pissing him off. Debi dropped onto her back. “Now you need to do me a solid.”

  “What did you have in mind?”

  “Contact Allyson without the guys knowing.”

  “Craft has safeguards in place and Fowler is paranoid as hell.”

  “You’re good. You can do it. Just don’t get caught.”

  “Nice. A challenge and a warning at the same time. You’ve been taking lessons from the men.”

  “If they’re not going to work with us, then we work separately by default.” She’d rather work together. She’d come to rely on the team, think of them as her own. But ever since she’d watched Rose go after Robert in the lab, her nerves had been in tatters. She was about ready to resort to pyrotechnics. “Can you do it?”

  “Girl.” Camy mimicked Debi’s tone. “I hacked into the student loan records database.”

  “Really?” Debi wished she could do the same. “How much do you owe?”

  “Not a damn thing.”

  Wow. “You’re hired.” Debi frowned as they walked back upstairs. She’d just asked the world’s peppiest hacker to help. What could possibly go wrong?

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  With her shoes in one hand and keys in the other, Debi stepped into the hall outside her room. Sneaking past Rose’s room was simple as he’d locked her out of it. His words from the other night still haunted her.

  We’re done.

  The memory squeezed her heart dry. Trying to cure her panic attacks had cost her everything. Her father had washed his hands of her after Barry ratted her out. DV1028 had cost her friends from the lab and a sense of security she hadn’t regained until she’d settled in with the team here at the manor. She couldn’t lose Rose. It was time to stop letting everyone else take care of her.

  The i
nformation in Barry’s computer could save them and she had it within her power to get it. Rose couldn’t stop her from doing what was right for the team.

  In her stocking feet, she made her way to the kitchen. Camy and Dean had cleaned up and were the last to go to bed. A single light over the oven lit the way to the pantry. Debi sat on the stairs leading to the tunnel to put on her shoes before heading to the barn. The lights in the tunnel were horror movie scary and the walls echoed with the memory of Rose’s screams when he’d been in recovery.

  A shiver chilled her skin, but she forced herself to walk—not run—to the other end of the creepy tunnel. Footsteps followed her, or they were echoes of her steps, or she was crazy. She ran up the stairs to the barn and headed straight for her car.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” The deep male voice stopped and restarted her heart.

  “Crap.” She stumbled back and hit the side of Fowler’s pickup. She twisted toward the voice.

  Stills stood between the cars with his arms crossed over his massive chest. “Going somewhere?”

  The keys in her hand were pretty damning. “Uh, looking for something in my car.”

  “Tell me, do I look stupid?”

  “That’s one of those no-win questions.” The hand holding her keys trembled, so she stuffed it in her front pocket.

  Camy peeked around Stills. “Sorry. He busted me when I came over to check the email.”

  Debi closed her eyes for a split second, her thoughts going fast, but not fast enough to make up a lie big enough to cover her tracks. “You can’t keep me here if I don’t want to stay.”

  “Actually, I can.”

  Ugh. The men all had this annoying ability to stay reasonable and calm when she wanted to scream. “Okay so you’re bigger and meaner and could physically restrain me. Is that the kind of man you want to be?”

  He chuckled, but only a fool would think he was amused.

  The silence stretched, and it was one of the moments like when you were in school and got busted breaking into the science lab. The teacher merely sat there waiting until you couldn’t take the silence and had to fill it. And damn, but Debi’s breath was ragged. Panic threatened. “Fine. What do you plan to do?”