Cuckoo (Kindred Book 3)

by Scarlett Finn

  Seeing him again would remind her of the heartache she’d gone through after losing him the first time. She’d be reminded that he was a bully who had no respect for her or what she’d been through and she’d end up hating him all over again. It had taken her a long time to get over the disappointment of leaving here without his blessing.

  “Don’t go in there.”

  The sound of the familiar masculine voice made her whip around. Brodie was propped against her car on the other side of the narrow street with his arms and ankles crossed. She sighed. “Jeez, you scared me,” she said because when she’d stopped here, she’d been sure she was alone, apparently she was wasn’t. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been standing here motionless staring at her father’s house, but she hadn’t heard a vehicle approach. “How did you know where I was?”

  Her note had said she was going to see her father, but hadn’t said where he lived, or that she was travelling back to her home state to do it.

  “You think it’s difficult for me to find you?” he asked, pushing off the car and sauntering over to stand with her on the sidewalk. “My best bud can hack any system, and when your name pops on a flight manifest, I know. Hacking the security cameras and running facial recognition takes two seconds.” Nodding at the car he’d just left, he hooked his hands in his pockets, leaving his thumbs in his belt loops. “That’s your rental car, another breadcrumb… and your phone is equipped with a GPS tracker. If you’re on this planet, I can find you. Need me to keep talking?”

  If she’d just pulled up, he had to have been sitting in wait to be so hot on her tail. “How did you get here before me?”

  “Means,” he said. “My cousins are chopper pilots, and I can get a jet to take me anywhere I want to go without waiting at check-in.”

  Ok, so it wasn’t that amazing when he explained himself. Putting her hand on the extended handle of her suitcase that stood just behind her, she turned to face the house. “I have to do this.”

  “No, you don’t,” he said, cool and quiet. He wasn’t appealing to her, he was stating what he believed to be a given fact. “You could’ve wired the ransom money and never set foot on a plane.”

  Amazed that he’d known about her private conversation, she gaped. “How did you…?”

  He shrugged. “I know everything.”

  If he wasn’t recording her calls, he might have heard her on audio transmitters that were in the manor. She made a mental note to stop talking to herself when she thought she was alone.

  “What the fuck possessed you to come down here?” he asked as she twisted to face the house again. “If you walk in there, he’ll think he was right all along, that you’ve come to grovel. You don’t have CI now, but you have us. You have the Kindred. You still feel like we don’t need you?”

  Exhaling, she conceded that he deserved to know the truth. “I don’t have mad computer skills like Swift. I can barely change batteries in a remote. I’m not Falcon. I don’t have money to contribute like him, like you. I don’t have a useful degree or superior knowledge like Wren.”

  He didn’t flinch. “They don’t have your legs.”

  Tilting her head, she wasn’t impressed. “I’m serious,” she said, scowling at him and letting her hand slide away from the metal suitcase handle. “I’m not Premium Personnel Coordinator anymore. I’m out of CI, I can’t give you access. You own the damn building now anyway. You can get it yourself if you need it.”

  “This isn’t about CI,” he said. “I don’t need dick from there, and you don’t need that place either.”

  She didn’t feel any better. “I knew Grant for five years, but it took you telling me about Game Time for me to figure it out. I didn’t suspect that you were involved in what happened in Quebec. I didn’t see Grant’s double cross coming. You were out of the game for months, yet you picked up on it before I did. I was the only one to spend time with Benedict and I had no idea he was following his own secret agenda. When CI landed on you and you didn’t want to handle it, you called your ex-girlfriend to bail you out. I’m done. I don’t have any skills that can help you or the Kindred.”

  “And you think walking back in there to Daddy and handing him a bundle of cash will make you feel better?”

  “You don’t get it,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m not here because I’m running back to him. I want to be with you, but I have to confront him, to make him see that he wasn’t right. My confidence relies on him admitting his mistake.”

  “That’s not why you’re here. You’re running. You think I haven’t notice that you’ve avoided going back to the compound? Atlas was easy to avoid; we have no reason to be there. You can’t handle the deaths of people you care about because it reminds you of your mother.”

  Brodie was way more perceptive than she’d given him credit for, and more attentive of her behaviors too. Swallowing, she wouldn’t let herself become emotional with him again. “How do you know that?” she whispered.

  “Because when I was grieving, I shut myself off and got drunk. Your coping mechanism is to be busy. You always want to feel useful. It’s more acute now because you’re trying not to face how losing Grant has hurt you.”

  Biting her lower lip, she held it between her teeth. “I wasn’t there for him at the end. I can’t fix that relationship.”

  “So, fixing your relationship with your dad is some sort of substitute?”

  Determined, she tried to conjure the resolve she’d had before embarking on this trip. “My dad needs me.”

  “Your dad needs money,” he said. “He’s not gonna welcome you without judgement. If you want to stay here because you think he’ll make you feel useful, then do it. But it will fuck you up because he’s never gonna be the guy you want him to be.”

  Zara knew that, her optimism had faded. Because she was here, she felt that she should go in to hand over the cash. The Kindred had plenty to keep them busy, and she wasn’t an integral part any longer.

  Glancing up, she became overwhelmed by the sight of him. Brodie was an amazing man, handsome, smart, dedicated, and he had a purpose, which he’d put aside to come here to intercept her. “I’m of no use to you anymore. We both know it. How long will it be before you get tired of my dead weight on the team?”

  His scrutiny made her return her focus to her father’s front door. Ignoring her love, she began trying to psyche herself up to start walking. All she could think about was her father’s judgement, about how her answers to the questions he asked would never satisfy him.

  “That’s what your whore comment was about,” Brodie said and sighed. “You think if you can’t do a job then you’ll spend your days sucking my dick.” She shrugged because yeah, that was pretty much it. “The first time I shot a gun, I blew out the back tire of Art’s jeep.”

  Despite the randomness of the statement, she drew her attention around to portray how impressed she was because that was a precise shot for a beginner. “Wow,” she said, surprised his aptitude had come to him so naturally.

  He shrugged. “Thing is, I was aiming for a target six feet to the left and shot wide. Art had taken me to this little African village. He’d been there before and helped them out with a shitty landowner who thought he was God. Everyone in that village was watching me. They were so impressed because they thought that tire was my target. These people worshipped Art and after seeing that shot, they loved me.”

  Young, triumphant Brodie was a hard thing to picture. “The praise must have felt good.”

  “Are you kidding?” he said. “I felt like crap. We stayed in that village and ate with the people while they were celebrating my superior skills.”

  “You could have just faked it,” she said. “Made them believe you had full confidence in your ability.”

  “That’s what Art said,” Brodie replied. “The thing was, I was shit scared. I asked him, ‘What do I do if they call me in to get rid of some crazy bastard? They’ll find out I was a fraud thirty seconds before I get my ass handed to me. I’m n
ot as good as they think I am.’ I asked how I could make sure that didn’t happen, how I could explain to them that I wasn’t that good.”

  Her love didn’t often share stories of his past with her, and she relished the chance to hear one now, even if it was an odd time to be sharing. “What did Art say?”

  Brodie moved in real close and draped an arm around her, across the width of her shoulders. “He leaned in to whisper and I thought he was gonna reveal some big secret and he said, ‘You’ll just have to get that good.’ I was pissed as hell.” She smiled. “I told him it wasn’t that easy. Then he asked if I wanted to know the secret to being a good shot.”

  He paused for long enough that the suspense made her lean until she was almost kissing him. “So, what did he say? What’s the secret?” she asked, desperate to know.

  He lowered his volume to a whisper, “Practice.”

  Wilting, she was peeved he’d duped her like Art had duped him. “Hilarious.”

  Though she tried to cast his arm off her shoulders, he didn’t take the hint. “It’s not a joke. I’m telling you that you’re still a rookie and getting that good takes time. You’ve been thinking about Saint’s death. You want to know who Leatt is working for and what his people are up to, right?” She shrugged. “When I didn’t give you the answers you wanted about Game Time, what did you do?”

  “Research,” she said. “At CI, but I don’t have access to—”

  “There are other places, other books, other systems. If you want to know who Leatt is, do some research.” Her confidence had taken such a knock that she wasn’t sure she was capable of taking on that challenge. Leatt wasn’t her primary concern since Kahlil had presented his offer. Her eyes drifted toward the house again, and Brodie’s lips closed in on the shell of her ear. “Your answers aren’t in there. Yeah, you can give up. You can walk away. But what makes you think you’ll be any more content in there than you are with me?”

  Raising her chin, she apologized with her gaze. “This isn’t about us. I love you.”

  “And how long will that last once your dad has you back under his thumb? There are plenty of eligible guys around here.”

  It hadn’t occurred to her that Brodie might assume she was escaping the Kindred and their relationship by coming here. The last thing she wanted was regular guys and a normal life. Coming home to face her father was supposed to be cathartic, a healing experience that would give her an energy boost.

  With Grant gone and Mischa in charge, Zara had no place left at CI. Feeling that she was of no use to the Kindred because she’d failed every mission, it felt dishonest to have the privilege of life at McCormack Manor at least until she could get some validation that her decisions were righteous.

  “I feel like I failed you,” she murmured.

  “We figured out where Game Time was because of you. You gave us the potential buyers. You went to that Grand meeting and charmed their asses. None of them suspected you of wearing a wire or fooling them. You went to the goddamn Game Time drop, even though you thought you were all by yourself. You were there because you wanted to stop it, even if it meant risking your life and revealing yourself. God, baby, it was hot to watch you so confident about doing the right thing.”

  “Anyone could’ve done those things,” she said.

  Grabbing her neck, he pulled her close. “For all we know, the reason Leatt didn’t kill us all where we stood was because you made him care about you. You went to Sutcliffe’s compound alone. We found the arsenal because of bugs you planted and cameras you carried. You are smart. You’re social and you’re beautiful. The Kindred need you. I need you. It’s as simple as that.”

  She wanted to believe him and she opened her hands on his chest. “If I lose you… you were going to let Grant kill you just to save my life. I can’t… I’m not sure I would’ve been able to live if I lost you. The guilt of you sacrificing yourself for me…”

  “I was never gonna let him hurt me,” he said, peering closer until she read the love behind his tough façade. “Swift took you to the floor to protect you. All I had to do was take a couple more steps, and I’d have taken the gun from Saint. Murder in his blood or not, he liked the sound of his voice preaching at me too much. He’d have wanted to deliver another monologue before pulling the trigger, and all I needed was half a second to switch the advantage from their camp to ours.”

  That was reassuring and something she wished she’d known at the time. But the intensity of her fear remained. “I can’t lose you. I can’t.” But if she didn’t trust herself to be useful to the Kindred, she’d never be able to hold onto him.

  “Moving back here pretty much guarantees that you’ll lose me, baby.” She didn’t follow. It hadn’t been her intention to move into her father’s house. Brodie might be able to pinpoint her location, but his tech couldn’t read her mind. “If you come back here, I’ll end up in jail ‘cause there will be a wave of single men in their twenties, thirties, and forties dropping down dead with a single, high-caliber gunshot wound to the head.”

  She smiled, though she believed his words to be true. “Any male of dating age?”

  He nodded once. “Yep. I’ll eliminate them all before they become a threat to what we have.”

  Being close to him eased some of her burden. “No man measures up to you,” she said, sinking into his arms when he spread his fingers on her spine to pin her body to his.

  A creak made her turn, and she saw her father on the porch, between the door and screen, peering down the path as if trying to make out who they were. “Get in the car,” Brodie said, seeing what she did. He pushed her lower back to direct her toward the road as he turned toward the house.

  But her love’s frown and willingness to address her father made her grab for his wrist to get his attention again. “Are you armed?” she asked.

  The glare on his face didn’t budge. “Do you want me to kill him?”

  No, she didn’t, but it meant so much to her that this man would do anything to make her happy. “No. What about the money?”

  “Get in the car,” he said, bobbing his head in the direction of the vehicle then kissing her hairline. “Trust me.”

  And although he didn’t need an answer, she gave him one. “More than I trust myself,” she said.

  Before he started toward the house, he smacked her ass, probably in lieu of a kiss, then he strode up the path toward her father who was still loitering. It had been a long time since she’d seen him and he looked older, more weathered, his stance was more hunched and his face more creased. But she recognized him, even if his eyesight wasn’t good enough for him to be certain of her identity.

  He can’t have felt too threatened because he hadn’t run off to get his gun. Even if he had, he’d never have gotten a shot off. Brodie would disarm him if the conflict got physical, but her father would notice her love’s superior skills. In the event that he did, Brodie would have an explanation, though her father wouldn’t hear it because he’d be too busy getting himself riled.

  Anything could happen in that house, as neither man was great at holding their temper if the right buttons were pushed. Brodie kept on going up the path and didn’t look back at her. Tearing her eyes from the men, she wheeled her suitcase to the car and put it in the trunk before taking a seat in the front passenger side.

  She didn’t know how long Brodie would be or what excuse he would give to her father for being there. But when the men went into the house, her jaw fell. She’d expected an exchange on the porch, not inside in the bosom of the home. Brodie hated being social, and her father wasn’t much better at it.

  Slumping into the seat, she slid her shoes off her feet and drew them up under her. Whatever the men were talking about, she couldn’t interrupt, she’d just have to wait until Brodie returned and then query the details. Staring out of the windshield, she thought about what Brodie had said, and it wasn’t so much his point about her research as it was his reminder of her being proactive. When Brodie hadn’t given her what
she wanted, she stood tall and found it out on her own.

  An idea hit her, so she bent to grab her purse from the floor. Taking her cellphone out of it, she began to make plans.

  EIGHT

  His cousins weren’t waiting for him with a helicopter, but there was a jet waiting for them at the airport. Brodie ignored anyone who tried to talk to him, so they eventually gave up. The employees interpreted their choice of transportation as a sign of frivolous wealth and tried to pander as though they were idle and spoiled. They didn’t want champagne or canapés. They wanted to get from A to B, that was it.

  On business trips with Grant, she’d had the privilege of traveling in a private jet. But the sheen of novelty didn’t lessen, and enjoying the seclusion of a private plane with Brodie led to some unscheduled activities. Try as she might to press for details, Brodie hadn’t been forthcoming about what happened while he was in her father’s house, which he had been for about fifteen minutes.

  After giving up on that, she tried to address the situation with Kahlil and what he knew about Future’s Hope. Brodie didn’t want to talk about that either. So instead, they used sex to pass the time and she was happy to cross sex in a plane off her bucket list.

  Because he wasn’t interested in talking about Kahlil, he hadn’t been interested in discussing her plans either. But he did assure her that they would talk when they landed and regrouped at the manor. Just hearing that they were going to base instead of to Rigor’s place soothed her nerves.

  Night had fallen by the time they got home, meaning they could open the main gate and drive to the manor house and straight into the garage. Brodie parked and they got out, so she queried his choice of destination.

  “Why are we here?” she asked. He’d given up on going to Rigor’s without putting up any kind of fight, so the why intrigued her. “I thought you wanted to—”

  “When a member of the team goes AWOL twice in the same month, something has to give.”