“Feds have been digging into the Vance family history. Tomorrow is an anniversary of sorts.”
“What kind of anniversary?” Draegan asked slowly, apparently prepared for the worst.
“On April 9th, eight years ago, his stepmom was murdered. We believe Vin killed her. We also believe he’s gone on a killing spree every year since.”
“And why is he walking around a free man?” Harley asked.
“For the same reason his brothers stayed free for so long. Someone, somewhere, made a deal with the devil a very long time ago and apparently all the Vance sons have been protected by some sort of secret society.” He swung his gaze at Draegan. “And you know all about those elite organizations. Don’t you?”
Draegan went pale. “I can guess what you’re thinking and you’re wrong.”
“What’s he talking about, man?” Harley asked.
Bane scoffed. “Thought brothers didn’t have secrets.”
“They don’t,” Draegan said. “Unless it’s one that will save their lives.”
* * * *
Draegan was mad as hell. After promising he’d explain everything to his brothers later, he followed Bane and Serena back to Serena’s.
“What the fuck were you doing back there?” Draegan jumped off the golf cart and rushed Bane as soon as he left his unmarked nondescript white sedan.
“Draegan, wait!” Serena was seemingly faster than the speed of sound because she reached Bane before Draegan had the chance.
“Stay out of this, Serena!” Draegan pointed at her then pivoted to his left and swung his finger at Bane. “You had no right.”
“Considering your brothers don’t really know who Markie is, I’d say I had every right.” He glanced at Serena. “Why don’t you wait inside for us?”
“I’m fine where I am, thanks.”
For a split second, Draegan lost his train of thought. Serena wasn’t going anywhere because she likely thought Bane had given Draegan just enough rope to hang himself.
Oh no. Draegan wouldn’t play this game.
“Whether you believe me or not, I wasn’t trying to cause trouble.”
“Of course you were,” Draegan sang. “Why didn’t you go ahead and tell them what you know, hmmm?” He snorted at that. “I’ll tell you why. You don’t have all the facts, just like you don’t have all the facts about Vin Vance. You have a bunch of theories. That’s all. In fact, that’s what we’re all doing here—going on hunches. You haven’t given us anything concrete since we received the first texts.”
Bane closed the limited distance between them and it was then when Draegan saw the cop, the man who’d earned so many commendations he might as well be wearing them like a decorated soldier. “How’s this for concrete? Markie will be killed tomorrow afternoon unless we find him. You already suspected this because you know he’s the patsy for Jims—Longs—and has been since he was a boy. He’s marked and you’ve known it for a long time. You and Mac.”
“What’s he talking about?” Clearly addled, Serena jerked her head back and forth, looking at one man and then the other. “What do you mean Markie’s a patsy?”
“Tell her or I will,” Bane said.
“It’s not my story to tell,” Draegan said, biting back the urge to rip Bane apart.
“You’ve got that about right. It isn’t your story, but it’s part of Trouble’s history. Isn’t it? Don’t you think the residents deserve to know why you really set up this retreat here?”
“It isn’t a retreat,” Draegan corrected him. “It’s a town, a community, a place where folks can live freely without looking over their shoulder.”
“Retreat, town, whatever you want to call it—Trouble is here because you wanted to protect Markie.”
“So what if I did! Markie had a right to feel safe like anyone else.”
“You can’t keep him safe forever, Draegan. You can’t build walls high enough or put enough guards in the tower to protect him from what’s coming for him.”
“Then I’ll die trying.”
Chapter Thirteen
Awkward didn’t quite cover how Serena felt when she stepped out of her bedroom and joined Bane and Draegan in the kitchen. She’d taken a speed shower, primarily because she was concerned and curious.
The concern stemmed from fear. Without someone to run interference, Bane and Draegan would probably try to kill one another.
If they stopped snarling at one another then perhaps they’d talk out that accusation Bane had made and that’s where Serena’s curiosity took over. She didn’t want to miss anything.
Someone had made coffee, so she helped herself to a cup and sat in between the two brooding men. She glanced around the small area and decided things must have gone fairly well. Nothing was broken.
“Markie was sought out by Jims Vance,” Draegan said, an odd expression stamped upon his face. “You’ve heard the story—at least part of it—about the Vance brothers. Years ago—and most assume it was around the same time the younger Vance brothers became involved in the family’s cult-like activities—the brothers sought out patsies, people they believed could pass for them should they be chosen for their family’s sacrifice.
“Jims sought out Markie from the beginning. Markie believed he was nothing more than his one-night stand, but the wicked truth was Jims had chosen Markie as a potential replacement. They were similar in build and around the same height. Heck, there were a lot of similarities, right down to their personalities and companion preferences.
“When Mac and I went to the Vance property searching for Markie, we overheard a conversation between Dons and someone we’d never seen before—and someone we never saw after our visit to the Vance place. Anyway, it was then when we figured out Markie had been tagged with some sort of locator chip, sort of like what the animal shelters put in between the shoulder blades of newly adopted pets. Remember, we were in high school back then. In those days, there wasn’t a discussion about implanted microchips for tracking or identification purposes.”
“Why would the Vance brothers want to track Markie?”
“Let him finish,” Bane said, seemingly supportive of Draegan then.
“Markie’s ancestors were involved in all sorts of suspicious activity. They were original members of a cult that originated in the UK and they betrayed a code of silence. Because of their betrayal, none of his family members were permitted to let a male child live beyond his fourteenth birthday.”
“Wait a minute. When did you and Markie become friends?”
“We were good friends in elementary school, but Markie didn’t spend a lot of time with us until he was in high school. Anyway I’m getting to that.
“When the Vance brothers found out who Markie was and what he meant to this secret society—collectively called the Cobalt Organization—they entered his name in a database for martyrs and patsies.
“Since Markie shouldn’t have survived past his fourteenth birthday, his name is always flagged first when someone is looking for a human for their sacrificial activities.”
“Oh, Draegan. That’s terrible.”
“He’s been first on that particular list since he was sixteen.” Draegan looked incredibly pained then. “Markie spent a lot of time at our house because my father was feared among the locals. There were always rumors surrounding him. He was CIA or FBI. He was a Marine or a badass with a cause. He was this or that and the truth is, no one really knew much about him at all. Markie had a room at our house because when he was with us, he was untouchable.
“Truth is, Dad probably knew exactly who Markie was and protected him. He had his own skeletons and looking back, it’s hard to guess whether he knew anything or nothing.
“In short, Markie has had a target on his back since he was fourteen.”
“How awful this must’ve been for him,” Serena said.
“Markie doesn’t know,” Draegan said quietly.
“What do you mean he doesn’t know?”
Bane frowned. “I’m with
Serena here. How’s that possible? How could he not know?”
“Oh you mean you didn’t read about that in your files, Detective?” Draegan’s attitude returned.
“I’m not asking you this as a friend, Draegan.”
“So we’re friends now?” Draegan laughed. “Funny. From where I’m seated, I didn’t see us as buddies. You’re just a fella tryin’ to get in my girl’s pants.”
“I’ll let that slide for now,” Bane said, never losing his focus. “Draegan, I’m considered an expert in the area of cults and secret societies. Do you have any idea how dangerous it is for Markie to walk around unaware of what he means to the Cobalt Organization?”
“It was too dangerous to tell him.” Draegan’s eyes watered. “Markie’s own parents would’ve eventually handed him over. They weren’t in any position to help him, financially or otherwise. Mac and I made a pact to keep him safe. We put guns in his hands and taught him how to use them. We paid Marines and SEALs to teach us everything they knew so that when we started accepting residents here, we’d be prepared to take care of our own.”
“Don’t you mean Markie?” Bane asked, a touch of arrogance in his voice.
“You’re damn right I mean Markie!” Draegan pushed away from the table. “Yes! Markie is the real reason Mac and I first developed the groundwork for Trouble, but it quickly grew into something more. Look around you, Detective! We have a community here. We have families here. Women who probably wouldn’t be here if we hadn’t built a city to keep them safe!
“It’s easy to judge when you’re sitting over there with your arms crossed across a chest full of condemnation, but ask yourself this—would you have cared about our reasons if your sister had been here? Would you have asked us why Trouble was originally founded if we were protecting someone you loved and offering her a carefree life behind these gates?
“Before you shake a scolding finger at me, or Mac for that matter, you stop and ask yourself how many establishments have been built for one specific purpose only to function as an entity to help in various capacities.
“So yes, Trouble was originally conceived because Mac and I wanted to protect Markie, but by the time we realized just what we were up against, the surrounding cities were already facing a domestic violence crisis, one of the worst in this nation. We turned to our friends and people we trusted and decided to build a city that was as sturdy and strong as the men who would fight for it and its residents.
“Now you go ahead and judge me, but then you look across this table and you ask Serena the difficult question. Ask her.” He swung his gaze at Serena. “Would you be here today if Trouble hadn’t been around? Would you have survived your ex-husband’s wrath if you hadn’t had the opportunity to come here instead?”
Without missing a beat, Serena replied, “No.”
“Draegan, what you’ve done here is admirable,” Bane said. “Don’t misinterpret what I’m saying here. I don’t judge you, but—”
“But you think we should’ve been forthright with Markie.” Draegan took a breath. “You don’t know Markie. He was always a nervous type, always paranoid as shit, always looking over his shoulder as if he thought someone was chasing him.”
“And apparently they were,” Serena pointed out.
“Yes, but Markie didn’t know that. He always said someone was watching him, but had he really believed it, he wouldn’t have had any type of life. He would’ve been so caught up in trying to save himself, he wouldn’t have trained alongside me or my brothers. He wouldn’t have focused on building Trouble into what it is today.
“We gave Markie a reason for living. We believed in him. His family never did. Truth told, they didn’t want Markie to survive past his fourteenth birthday. They became indebted to a secret society that they didn’t begin to understand.”
“His folks were simple-minded people,” Bane said, nodding. “I know all about Markie’s people.”
“Then you know what we did here wasn’t a complete waste. Mac and I saved Markie’s life. And if you were to ask me if we’d do it all again, I’d have to say yes. We wouldn’t change a thing. Because up until now, we’ve kept Markie safe. More importantly, we’ve given him something to believe in, something to work toward, and a purpose.”
Bane seemingly absorbed everything Draegan had said. Then he said, “I’m not one hundred percent certain Vin will ask for the trade.”
Draegan’s tense expression relaxed but he didn’t say anything. Maybe he realized Bane was trying to prepare him for the worst. Perhaps Draegan had already braced for the worst.
“Our guys have been on Vin’s trail for nearly a decade and we’ve never been able to figure him out. I’m not sure if he’s brilliant or truly insane, but either way, we should’ve been one step ahead of him by now and we thought this time, we were. We were pretty sure he’d lure some of you in and then ask for an even trade—your brothers for his. We thought he’d release Markie as a show of good faith, something he’s been big on doing in the past.
“If he’d followed our expectations, he would’ve arranged a meeting spot. He would’ve released Markie once he had you and your brothers, or perhaps just your brothers. Then, he would’ve demanded the release of his brothers and sworn to release yours.” Bane hesitated. “Thing is, Draegan, we would’ve ultimately advised you against the trade.”
“I know that,” Draegan said, reaching for Serena’s hand and reclaiming his seat then. “You would’ve told us that we were as good as dead if we took the deal.”
“And you would’ve taken it anyway.”
“Three or four McCalls have a pretty good chance of fighting their way out of any situation. Markie’s trained, but unless the enemy hands him a sniper rifle, he’s probably not going anywhere, especially in his condition.” Draegan bit his lip, seemingly struggling with so many emotions. He finally ducked his head and squeezed his eyes shut.
It was no use, the tears still leaked from the corners.
“Ah, God!” He shoved away from the table and went to the sink. Looking out over the back lawn, he shook his head and finally said, “Markie’s not like a brother. His last name might as well be McCall.”
“And that’s why he’s not walking out, Draegan. If Vin had planned to send him out, he would’ve already done it. You need to prepare yourself for what comes next because tomorrow afternoon, we will hear from Vin Vance. And the more time passes the more I’m convinced that those videos and photographs are old.”
Draegan slowly turned. “What are you saying here?”
Bane looked equally troubled then. “I’m saying it’s a very real possibility that Markie is already gone.”
* * * *
Markie was finally coming to terms with a real possibility. He was on his own. While he still had faith that the McCalls were out there looking for him, he also believed Vin Vance was smart enough to outsmart them.
Apparently, he’d put some thought into his abduction. Markie had been an easy mark because he played with fire anyway.
Cursing his need for love and the way he went about trying to find his soul mate, he vowed to avoid casual hookups and local dating avenues once he was free. Once he put this incident behind him, he was turning over a new leaf.
He’d wait for love rather than chase it down like a rodeo cowboy, swinging a lasso around just hoping to rope in the right kind of lover. He grimaced as he thought about the coming hours.
Vin had a plan and his plan included the McCalls. Markie would soon go free because the McCalls would definitely do whatever his abductor asked, but then what? Would Vin Vance kill the only men he’d ever really thought of as his family?
A door opened and those heavy footsteps headed his way. A few seconds later, Vin sat before him once more.
“You and I need to have a talk.”
“I agree,” Markie said, coming to terms with what he needed to do. “Whatever it is you want to do, go ahead and do it to me. Don’t kill the McCalls. Kill me.”
Vin’s mouth twit
ched. “But that would be far too easy, Markie. See, you’ve betrayed some very important people. Now, they want you to pay for that betrayal and the only way to do that is to make you understand what running cost you.”
Markie swallowed. Betrayed important people? Who? How? “What are you talking about?”
Vin snorted. “You’re really going to hang there by your bloody wrists and pretend you have no idea what I’m talking about?”
“The only ‘important’ people I know are the McCalls and the rest of Trouble’s founding fathers.”
“We both know that’s a lie.” Vin sneered. “You’ve been running since you were fourteen years old and you’re, what…mid-to-late twenties now? You’ve been on Cobalt’s top three for over a decade.”
“Cobalt? Who is Cobalt?”
Vin studied him thoughtfully then. “Who is Cobalt?” He approached Markie as if he were in awe of him then. “Wait a second.” He circled him like a predator ready to pounce, eager for the kill. “You don’t know. Do you?”
“I don’t know what?” Markie jerked the restraints, wishing he could just break free for a minute. His arms felt like gelatin and his legs were tired. He’d been strung up like a pig waiting to be gutted and now he was utterly exhausted, convinced he could die like this.
“They didn’t tell you.” Vin made this nasally racket and stopped in front of him. “You have no idea who you are. Do you?”
“I’m nobody important,” Markie assured him.
Vin doubled over with laughter. “You’re nobody?” When his fits of laughter subsided, he grabbed Markie by the hair of his head. Sneering, he came as close as possible and breathed, “Well, Mr. Nobody, Why don’t you tell me something then? Why don’t you explain why your head is worth a whole lot of money? And when I say your head, I mean, there’s value in taking it off and shipping it overseas in a box.”
Markie trembled. He had known his death would be violent if he indeed faced death, but a beheading? Why? Who would want him dead? More importantly, who would pay to have proof of his death? He wasn’t important. He was—as Vin had so eloquently put it—a nobody.
Trouble Travels in Threes [Trouble, Tennessee 3] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 8