by Anya Nowlan
Madeline perked right up at that. She smiled cautiously and nodded, brushing her hand through the hair of her baby boys one more time before heading for the door.
“You know, I think you’re right. I’ll take a few hours. Thank you so much, Mary!”
“You’re welcome,” Madeline heard Mary call after her as she was already running down the corridor and toward the stairs that led downstairs.
She needed to get out before Connor arrived, and if she knew anything, it was that none of Thatch’s and Tex’s friends would let her go anywhere out in the open. She snatched her coat and one of Tex’s hoodies that was hanging on a hook downstairs, pulling both on and the hoodie over her hair and face. She made it to the back door in time to hear voices, distinctly masculine, discussing something toward the exit that opened to the bar, and when she heard her own name, she knew it was time to run.
She unhooked and unlatched the back door and slipped out, breaking into a run immediately to cross the street and disappear amidst the other factory buildings and forgotten warehouses. When they drove to the area the day before, Madeline had kept a careful eye on where they were driving and memorized the way back to the highway and parts she could recognize.
Determined, she moved the phone into the pocket of her jacket, straining over the thick and oversized hoodie she’d thrown on, and kept moving. The way to Xavian’s main research labs was a long one, but she knew Chicago well enough by now to manage it and she knew time was of the essence.
I just hope Charlie is there today. I really hope I’m right and I’m not wasting everyone’s time and nerves for nothing, she thought nervously.
The farther she got from the Bear Den, the more confident in her choice she became. It was the right thing to do, in her mind. She could never know what would happen to her when all of this was over with the men going after her, and it would forever haunt her if she hadn’t done something to help one of the men she loved.
Love? she wondered, taken aback by the sudden, but very strong feeling that the word had not been a simple slip.
Maybe she did love them. Grinning, Madeline picked up her pace. Wasn’t everything allowed in love and war, after all?
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Tex
Tex was tense as all hell as they drove back from the Sixth Street bakery, named Little Happy Cupcake, though Tex hadn’t found anything goddamn happy about that place or the conversation they’d just had with Spade. Something about that guy rubbed him the wrong way. There was always an edge to him that made Tex wonder whose side he was really playing on. Like having a rabid, uncontrollable dog in their midst and wondering when it would cut the bullshit and bite someone’s face off.
He could deal with monsters, but guys like Spade, who played with knowledge, power, and control? Hell, those were the worst. Danger he could deal with. If anything, he felt good knowing that there was something tangible that could be done now. An actual problem to solve, a location to hit that could lead them to a solution.
The part about the armaments? That he didn’t like, but he’d have to trust that Spade wasn’t going to do something worse with them than The Arctics would. In any case, Spade knew what he had held over Thatch’s and his heads. He had them by the short hairs and they’d just have to play along.
They were driving back when Tex got a call from Connor, his phone ringing in his jeans. They were a couple of minutes away from the bar, so Tex simply signaled Thatch to gun it and they got there faster instead of stopping to take the call. By the time they were parking and pulling off their helmets, Connor was already walking out of the bar to them, looking grimmer than usual.
“What’s wrong?” Thatch asked, and Tex could feel the air growing tense.
“When I got here, Madeline was gone. Mary said she saw her not too long ago and told her to go get breakfast and relax a while. But her jacket is gone now and the back door was unlocked. I think she left.”
“What the hell?” Tex spat, throwing the helmet on the bike. “She wouldn’t leave her kids like that! And she knows it’s dangerous to be out right now. Any idea where she could have gone?” Tex asked, speaking first and really stopping to react a moment later.
Suddenly, his body got cold and rigid and a deep, foreboding dread wafted through him. It wasn’t that he knew something was wrong with Madeline, but the possibility of her being in danger was something so inconceivably horrific to him now that he couldn’t even function for a second. Looking over at Thatch, he could see the same emotions reflected in his brother.
Shit, Tex thought softly, rolling back his shoulders. Keep a cool head.
“I don’t know. Mary said she only felt that Madeline was maybe nervous about something, but that is to be expected with the situation she’s currently in. We’ve scoured through the Bear Den and she’s not here. I’ve called the rest of the guys; they’re putting out feelers to see if anyone’s spotted her in town. She wasn’t taken by anyone. There was a security camera at the door she exited from and it’s clear she left of her own accord. Do you two have any idea why she might run like this?” Connor asked, walking back inside to give them some privacy.
The bar was empty this time of day, with only Barkley leaning on the counter, looking fittingly somber. Tex pulled out his phone, dialing Madeline’s number which he’d swiped from Thatch the day before. It started ringing and at the same time, he heard her ring tone. Connor pulled her phone out of his pocket, holding it up and then tossing it to Thatch.
“Already checked that. She left it here.”
“This isn’t good,” Tex said flatly, looking at his brother.
Thatch’s eyes went wide and without a word, he bolted past Connor and Tex and ran toward the door leading upstairs. Tex and Connor shared a confused look but went after him, echoing his hurried steps up the stairs and then into Thatch’s and Tex’s room. Thatch grabbed the blanket off the bed they’d been sharing with Madeline a few hours ago, tossing through it.
“Where the fuck is it?” he growled.
“What?” Connor asked.
“My fucking phone. I left it here because I didn’t want to wake her up, but if she saw the messages… dammit.”
After checking under the bed, Thatch sunk down to sit on the edge, grabbing his head. His fingers dug into his neck so hard his knuckles were getting white and Tex sure as hell knew how his brother must have felt right then and there. He was going through a rollercoaster of emotions himself. Scowling, he stepped up to Thatch and put a hand on his shoulder, willing him to speak.
“Come on, tell us. What messages? What could she have seen?”
Thatch looked up, his expression positively ashen. It was like all the blood had drained from him, leaving him a worried, frantic shadow.
After a pause, Thatch finally spoke, his green and golden eyes meeting Tex’s. “You remember Blake Wilby?” he asked, his voice devoid of emotion.
“That asshole from the Seventeenth back in Iraq? Yeah, I do. The fucker was always out to get me. But what does this have to do with anything?” Tex asked, frowning.
“There was an accident after our last mission. An explosion. Blake lost his legs while we were getting air-evac’d to Germany to come home,” Thatch said, closing his eyes as if to gather himself.
“Shit. He was a pain but that’s harsh,” Tex commented, trying to make sense of why Thatch was telling him this.
“Yeah. Thing is, he’s saying it’s your fault. That one of the traps we left behind on that last mission wasn’t set right and when they went to retrieve it after the area was designated safe and under control, it went off and that was what cost him his legs. There was an enquiry into it but it never got very far. That’s why you never heard. But he’s got new evidence now. He’s paid out of pocket to get the whole thing analyzed and it doesn’t look good, man.”
Tex’s fingers gripped Thatch’s shoulder so hard he had to pry loose his grip to keep from crushing bone. He could smell where this was going and he didn’t fucking like it. His eyes
flashed gold and a low growl rose in his throat, threatening, alert.
“What are you saying?”
“He’s been blackmailing me for two years now. It started out small enough, nothing I couldn’t handle. But he’s been getting greedy and it’s been going on too long to sweep it under the rug. We were supposed to meet yesterday and I was going to give him the next ‘installment,’ but I couldn’t leave Madeline alone. So I missed it and he’s been blowing up my phone ever since. I think Madeline might have seen the texts and is trying to do something about it? She can be stubborn as a mule. Tex, fucking hell, stop!”
Tex barely heard the last few sentences. He was too busy whipping around and stomping out of the room, steaming mad. He wasn’t sure who he was going to pummel into the ground first, The Arctics or Blake, but they were both going to get what was coming to them. He’d make sure of it.
He was halfway down the corridor when Connor caught up with him, stopping him with a firm hand on his arm.
“Get back in there, soldier,” he commanded.
Tex stiffened, meeting Connor’s calm, authoritative gaze. A very big part of him wanted to deck his commanding officer, and friend, right then and there. But the way Connor didn’t give an inch and how he stared him down while Tex had a million thoughts running through his head finally got Tex to slacken slightly and turn back, taking deep breaths. Thatch was standing in the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest.
“I’m going to fucking kill him,” Tex seethed. “I’m going to find the motherfucker and kill him. There’s no way that was my fault. And you shouldn’t have been paying him off. Why did you do something so dumb, Thatch?”
Thatch quirked a brow at him, calm and cool as ice again after his outburst, his face rigid now. “Because of this, Tex. Because I’m pretty sure you would kill him and we don’t need that shit. Not right now. I agree with you, I never should have rolled with that dirtbag’s demands, but it seemed like the easier way out. I should have known that he was a greedy lout and called him out on his bullshit from the first moment. But he’s the least of our problems right now.”
“We need to find Madeline,” Tex finished, feeling a tremor in his chest.
He sat down on the bed heavily now, covering his face with his hands. This day was going to hell in a handbasket and it felt like there was very little they could do about it.
“So you think she has your phone?” Connor asked, looking at Thatch.
“Yeah… Yeah. Shit. She does,” he said, perking right up.
Thatch lunged for his laptop, tearing it out of his duffel and booting it up frantically.
“So what?”
“I can track my phone. No one else can, I’ve made damn sure of that, but I have a chip in there and I can find where she is, if she still has it. It’s going to take a few minutes, though,” Thatch said, pulling up a chair and going at his laptop like it hid the key to lifelong happiness.
Tex looked up, very aware that the hairs on the back of his neck were standing up now. He’d never felt true terror before like this. Sure, he’d been in battle plenty of times and he’d worried for his life, the safety of his teammates, and whether or not he’d walk out of it all. But he’d never lost his cool quite so viciously than when he thought of Madeline being in any kind of danger. It chewed him up inside and spat him out on the other side, in a real mess. Adding the whole Blake crap into it made it that much worse.
“Anything else you two want to tell me?” Connor asked, standing in the middle of the room.
Tex glanced at him, nodding. In the confusion and—dare he say—panic, he’d almost forgotten what they were supposed to do. Checking his phone, he saw that they only had a few hours to get ready.
“Yeah. We went to see Spade,” Tex said.
Any other time, the way Connor’s face fell would have been amusing. Now, it simply reflected how both Tex and Thatch felt inside. Tex told Connor the whole story, down to the grittiest details of what Spade wanted from then. Theoretically, he should have maybe kept it a secret, but there were never any lies in Squad Six. With men who had to trust each other implicitly, there couldn’t be. Just like they’d gone to bat for Connor when he was in the thick of things with his wife, Tex knew that Connor and the rest of the squad would be there for them. No questions asked.
By the time Tex was finished, he could hear the heavy-booted steps of Grim, Dutch, and Grant coming up the stairs. When the door was flung open and the rest of the squad piled in, already decked in their urban combat camo and ready to roll, Tex couldn’t help but grin. With Squad Six, he never had to worry about where the loyalties of his team lay.
“Looks like we’re going to have a firefight on our hands, boys,” Connor said thoughtfully, directing his attention to the newcomers.
“Can we take the tank?” Dutch asked, chewing on a toothpick and looking completely unsurprised by the fact that he had seen a tank and that the first news he got when walking into a room was that he’d have to whip out his sniper rifle.
“You thinking about moving over to heavy artillery?” Grim asked, grinning wickedly.
“Hey, whatever gets the job done,” Dutch commented, shrugging.
“Found her,” Thatch spoke up, standing up from the chair.
He turned around, holding the laptop in front of him, and Tex could sense the second his jaw set rigidly and every muscle in his body tensed.
Fuck.
Tex didn’t need to hear the words to know that it was bad.
“She’s at Xavian. Right where they’re going to hit.”
Of course she was there. Because that was exactly how their little love affair had to work—someone had to be in constant mortal danger, or otherwise it simply wasn’t right. Tex’s hands balled into fists, his shoulders hunched, and he didn’t swallow the snarl. If anything happened to her, he couldn’t live with himself. And he knew Thatch felt much the same.
“Gear up. I’ll brief the rest of the team. And go kiss your kids goodnight. It might be a long fucking day,” Connor said somberly, clapping Tex on the shoulder.
That shook Tex out of his wallowing thoughts. He jumped up and almost in unison, he and Thatch headed out the door and toward Madeline’s room, where Mary was sitting with Raze and Rhone.
“Are we cool?” Thatch asked, stiffness in his voice.
“Always.”
They kissed and hugged the boys, the seconds they could spend around them driving away an ounce of the dread Tex felt, and launched into action after that. They’d shucked off their civilian clothes in seconds and suited up, throwing on harnesses and pouches for their gear and loading up from their go-bags. Thatch knew that if the rest of the team was here, they’d definitely snagged a few attack vehicles and better gear as well, and he couldn’t wait to get going.
“Lock and load,” he growled as the six of them headed down the corridor and toward the underground garage.
Time to have a little fun.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Madeline
Madeline’s stomach had been in knots since she walked out of that door. Every shadow she saw, every person that came too close spelled violence and danger to her and she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was being watched. But that was something that had been following her since the day on the train. Now, without her kids around to calm her nerves, she felt it all the more acutely.
She’d made it to a bus stop fast enough and caught a bus downtown. From there, it had been short work to get on the right L train taking her to Xavian. She’d made the trip plenty of times. Still, she couldn’t stop peeking over her shoulder and checking out everyone around her, fretting that something, anything, would go wrong and her daring plan to help Tex and Thatch would go up in flames.
When she finally stepped off the train and got down onto the streets, it was already getting dark. The sun didn’t stay up for very long anymore and as she walked to the main building, thumbing her access card in her pocket, she was both horrified by it and thankful for the cover.
Anything could happen in the darkness. She would have much preferred to do this all when the sun was shining bright and everything was well lit. Something about darkness made her worries seem all the more… legitimate.
She smiled mildly as she walked past the two security guards at the main entrance to the research side of the hospital also known for its leading cancer wards. Madeline flashed her card to the reader and was allowed easy access, nothing odd about it. The guards barely looked at her. They were used to disheveled-looking scientists coming in and out at every hour of the day, though the working day was coming to a close and most of the people Madeline saw were heading out.
It only dawned on her when she got to the elevator that it was a weekend and there wouldn’t be a lot of people in the offices to begin with. Only the real fanatics, like… well, her. But Charlie was even worse than she was, so the odds were good that he’d be there.
If he isn’t, I’ve made a really big fool of myself, Madeline thought, taking a deep breath.
She let two chatting middle-aged women out of the elevator, both dressed in their coats and heading out, before she stepped on and showed her card to another reader to get higher upstairs. Madeline thumbed the button that would take her to the seventh floor and counted the numbers anxiously as the elevator scooted upward. By the time the doors opened again, she thought she’d aged a good few years.
She kept her eyes down as she walked through the bright blue corridors, heading directly for Charlie’s lab. One or two people walked past her, but no one recognized her, thankfully enough. She hadn’t been to the office too often since the kids were born though, choosing to work from home instead. When she got to Charlie’s door, she hesitated a moment before finally knocking, praying to any higher spirit that would listen to let Charlie be at work.
When his gruff but cheerful voice answered, a weight was lifted from her shoulders. “Come in!” he called.