Men of Mercy: The Complete Story

by Cross, Lindsay

  “Nope. Your turn to spill.”

  “Hunter will kill me.”

  “I will kill you if you don’t tell me what the heck is going on. Ranger knew the Mexican was Lobello right away.”

  Evie made an almost imperceptible nod toward Hayden, clearly unable to talk around the girl. Amy caught on and said, “Hayden, would you mind making Chloe a bottle of formula? She hasn’t eaten in a few hours.”

  Hayden startled from the door, as if lost in thought. “Yeah, um, sure. Of course.”

  Amy waited on her to leave the living room before talking. “What is wrong with her?”

  Evie shrugged. “No idea. She’s been weird all morning. Probably boy trouble or something.”

  Amy let that go for now, she had more important things on her mind. Such as how Evie seemed to know exactly what was going on, as did Amy and Hunter and Bo Lawson. “Spill. Now.”

  “You know last year, when I was helping C.W. with the MRG?” Evie had gotten roped into working with her grandpa’s old militia, the Mississippi Revolutionary Group. The MRG was the entire reason that Hunter and his team had returned to Mississippi last year.

  “You mean when you took your little walk on the criminal side and nearly died?” Apparently, the CIA had suspected the MRG of gunrunning for the very terrorist they’d been tracking overseas. Hunter’s unit discovered the MRG, and Evie, was actually innocent, and it had been Evie’s crazy ex-fiancée, Marcus Carvant that had ties to the terrorist. But not before Marcus kidnapped Evie and her mother, holding them hostage and nearly killing them.

  Evie glared at her. “Yeah, thanks for the reminder. Anyway, Marcus’s lackey, Sheriff Brown, escaped with the weapons before Hunter and his team could get them. They’ve been tracking them ever since.”

  Mercy’s ex-sheriff, Lee Brown, had been as dirty as Marcus. He’d not only tried to kill Evie, but set up the MRG as the fall guy and stolen the weapons. “You mean Brown is still here? In Mercy?”

  “Hunter thinks so. And he thinks Brown contacted the Lobellos to move the weapons out of the U.S.”

  “Oh my God.”

  Evie nodded, “Exactly. Now, I’ve told you everything, and you cannot tell my husband-got it?”

  “Of course.”

  “Your turn.”

  “What do you mean?” Amy hedged. She knew exactly what Evie was talking about, but that didn’t mean she was ready to tell her everything. Like Amy and Ranger’s insanely explosive bout of mind blowing sex.

  Or the fact that Amy was falling for Evie’s brother-in-law.

  Except she’d kicked him out. Nope. Not going there.

  “Here you go. Sorry it took so long, but I over heated the first bottle.” Hayden came back into the living room and held out the bottle of formula to Evie.

  Evie peered at her with way too much knowledge and Amy, unable to handle her best friend’s soul-searching gaze, turned away. Her gaze collided with Shane’s.

  Guilt slammed into her like a heart attack. Her feelings for Ranger were too raw. Too fresh. She needed a minute to consolidate and compartmentalize.

  “Okay, so Hunter sent you out here to check on us? We’re fine. I’ll call the hardware store on Monday and have them replace the back door. I think the two-by-fours will hold until then.”

  Evie glared at her but accepted the change in subject and moved on. “No, Hunter sent me out here to get you. He and Ranger have to leave for a couple of days. They think you should come stay with us until they get back.”

  To Evie’s house? Ranger lived with Evie and Hunter. That meant his things would surround her. How was she supposed to forget about having the best sex of her entire life with Ranger if she was in his house?

  “They are going on a mission?”

  Evie nodded.

  Another mission. Amy’s stomach clenched and she looked away. This was just another reason she couldn’t be with Ranger. She knew, without a doubt, she was falling for him and falling harder than a damn avalanche. As the former wife of a Special Forces operative, she knew the risks. Knew the call outs didn’t get put on hold because of family. And Ranger’s team wasn’t just normal SF. They were part of a special Task Force, a fact Amy only knew from one of Shane’s drunk nights when he admitted that fact. Even obliterated as he had been, he’d quickly shut up when she’d questioned him further.

  “No way. I’m not intruding on ya’ll.”

  “I thought you’d say that. Ranger said for me to tell you if you didn’t come stay with me, he would come drag you out of here himself.” Evie cut Amy an I’m-not-kidding look and then nuzzled Chloe. Her daughter wholeheartedly loved the attention, latched on to Evie’s long hair, yanking and pulling.

  Crap. Ranger didn’t make empty threats.

  “Ranger can’t tell me what to do.” Just saying his name brought heat to Amy's cheeks. She turned quickly, trying to hide the blush and physical and emotional reaction. Up until now she'd been able to tamp it down, to keep her distance. But last night had opened up a deep and gaping chasm inside her. One she had no hope of closing anytime soon.

  “You’re right, he can’t.” Evie said from right behind her. “But he can still worry, so will I, and I know I won’t be able to sleep knowing you are out here. Alone. With a psycho Mexican after your ass.”

  The shattered glass and wood gave testament to that fact. Her door smashed in. Her bed sheets rumpled. Her life was falling apart. Again. “Okay, you're right. I need to get out of this house. Mind watching her while I throw some things together?” Amy turned back to Evie.

  “Not at all. I’ll finish feeding her the bottle and take her outside to swing for a minute. Get everything you need for the rest of the weekend.”

  Amy shot Evie a grateful smile, sparing a glance for Hayden who still held close to the exit. Maybe the break-in freaked her out. Amy didn't have time to study Hayden’s behavior right now.

  The seed had been planted. Now she wanted to break out of this house like breaking out of a prison. She rushed into the bedroom and started packing. By the time she finished packing and lugging the pack-and-play out of the nursery, Evie was outside with Chloe. Amy dragged everything into the living room. Hayden stood facing the fireplace.

  “Mind helping a girl out?” Amy said.

  Hayden jumped and spun around, her tan skin pale, her blue eyes huge. Shane's photograph fell from her fingers and crashed onto the stone hearth. Hayden's hands flew up to her mouth. “Oh, my God. Amy, I’m so sorry.” Tears formed in the girl’s eyes.

  Amy sat the luggage down and walked over to Hayden, needing to comfort the younger girl. “It's okay, it's only a picture frame. I can get a new one.”

  Hayden shook her head wildly. “I didn't mean to. I swear I didn't mean to.”

  An inkling of unease trickled down her spine. Hayden's reaction was a little bit too severe for simply breaking a picture. “What's going on? You’ve been acting weird ever since you stepped into my house. Is there something wrong? Boy trouble?” The drama of young love was a roller coaster of emotions. Maybe Hayden had a recent break up.

  Hayden started to shake. She took a step back, away from Amy. Her shoe cracked and crinkled the broken glass into the floor. “You know?”

  Amy kept her voice calm and eased forward. “Listen, I know this past year I've been distant, dealing with my own stuff. But really, you can talk to me. I know I’m old to you, but I do remember how much it hurts when you’re dealing with a break up.”

  “Oh… I... yes. You’re right. But I’m not ready to talk about it yet. I’m so stupid and clumsy right now. I’ll buy you a new frame. A better one.”

  Amy tried to grab Hayden’s hand, but she took another step back. “I’ll get the broom, clean this mess up and load up your bags. You go outside with your daughter.”

  Everything Hayden said made sense, but the panic in her gaze didn’t mesh. Amy wanted to push, to get the girl to open up, but right now was not the time. She promised herself she would talk to her later, after she and Chloe settled
in at Evie’s new place. And as soon as Amy found out what boy was responsible for the awful heartache on Hayden’s face, she would rain down punishment he’d never forget. “Tell you what, I’ll get the broom. You get the bags.”

  Chapter 16

  The truck door didn’t slam hard enough behind Ranger as he disembarked from the jacked-up four-by-four. Dust swirled around him from the daredevil brake job he’d pulled, congealing on the sweat beading his brow. But he didn’t bother wiping the grime off his face. Why should he?

  Amy wasn’t here to see it, and by her own words, she wouldn’t want to see him any time soon. Or ever.

  Ranger slapped his palm on the scanner at the door of the war room, a huge metal pole barn on his father’s property that Team Scorpion had commandeered last summer. What looked like an innocent metal door slid to the right, the hydraulics hissing as it opened and slid shut behind him.

  Fucking empty. Perfect. Just like his life.

  Before their last mission together, Shane had made Ranger promise to look after Amy if he died. And Ranger had agreed, wholeheartedly, even knowing he’d once been attracted to her. But he’d been so sure his training and years of separation from Amy would ensure he could carry out that mission without a snag. He hadn’t counted on the absolute and overwhelming need. The dreams. The cravings. He was fucking addicted to her.

  And she rejected him like a Baptist rejected alcohol. Taking small sips in the dark to satisfy her craving, then tossing him in the trash the next morning.

  Ranger grabbed the nearest stack of papers, and flung them across the room. It wouldn’t hurt so bad if he hadn’t had a taste. If he didn’t know exactly what he would be missing without her.

  His training taught him to withstand the extremes. Torture. Days without food. Without water. But Amy was like air. He needed her to breathe.

  “Rearranging?”

  Ranger whipped around to see Riser, his teammate, standing with his arms crossed.

  “When the fuck did you get back from Pakistan?” Ranger tried to get his breathing under control.

  “Last night. Like the new digs.” Riser stood a couple inches shorter than Ranger, but was more muscular. His dark brown hair was long, as was his beard, but it didn’t disguise the look of amusement on his face.

  “Beats the FOB overseas.” Their forward operating base had been in the middle of bum-fucking-Egypt. Surrounded by desert, not amenities. Just sand. Sand. And Sand.

  “Yeah. Grey called us back after we wrapped up.” Riser went to the long table in the center of the room, pulled out a chair, and sat.

  Ranger ignored the steel band tightening around his gut. The unspoken words as loud as if Riser had shouted them. They’d wrapped up the search for Shane’s body and his killer. Striking out on both counts.

  “Where is everyone else?” Ranger said.

  “Right behind me, so if you don’t want to hear shit about your little hissy fit, I’d suggest you clean up.” Riser crossed his arms, not bothering to help, and leaned back in his chair.

  “Dammit.” Ranger immediately went to the scattered paper, gathered it and placed it back on the desk. The last thing he needed was ribbing and questions.

  Questions he wasn’t ready or able to answer.

  Mostly because the answer was being as fickle as a freaking teenager picking out her prom dress.

  “Want to tell me what’s up?” Riser joined their team at its inception a few years ago. He’d had Ranger’s back on multiple occasions. But no fucking way was he going to spill his emotional guts.

  “Just some shit. No biggie.” Ranger went to the small fridge at the side of the room, swiped a bottle of water and downed half, before returning to the oval table and taking a seat across from Riser.

  The door slid open and most of the rest of the team walked in. Hunter. Aaron. Merc. Ethan. Cord Carter, the newest member. Shane’s cousin and replacement.

  “The Brady Bunch, late, as usual,” Riser said.

  Hunter’s gaze cut straight to Ranger. “Where the fuck were you? I’ve been trying to get in touch with you all morning.”

  Ranger shrugged, unwilling to say anything, and rose to greet his teammates. Aaron had been almost as close to Shane as Ranger. The tall Texan spoke slow and easy, but killed fast and proficient. Ethan had come from the streets, a troubled teen who’d turned to the military for guidance. Merc. Who the fuck knew where Merc came from? The man towered over everyone. His expression always constant, always lethal. He spoke as little as possible. But he’d saved the group on more than one occasion. Cord, their newest member, was still in the beta stage and kept separate from the group, missing the easy blending of men who’d fought and nearly died together.

  Hunter shot Ranger a questioning look, but kept his mouth shut.

  Everyone took their seats, leaving two empty. “Where are the Crowe’s?”

  “Gone to the mountain.” Ethan was the smallest of the crew, but just as corded with muscle.

  The mountain. The Crowe’s home in the Tennessee hills. A place of trouble and nightmares that the brothers had barely escaped. But their parents were buried there, and every year, the two took leave for a weeklong trip to pay their respects. And every year they came back different. Dark. The memories taking their toll.

  Memories probably similar to Ranger’s own not-so-fairytale childhood.

  “Only five minutes late.” Grey appeared on the wall of monitors at the back of the room. His angular face even more sharp. His steel grey eyes deadly calm.

  “Had to wait on some cows to cross the road.” Hunter said.

  “I’m glad you felt at liberty to take your time. At least someone does.” Grey’s scathing reply was met with silence. “While you were pissing off, the Lobellos were busy.”

  The Captain didn’t waste time. The bottom screens transformed into satellite images of the Lobello compound twenty miles away. “The first are pictures we took last week. As you can see the place is pretty empty.”

  The grainy image showed mostly buildings with a few guards along the compound’s wall. “The next is from yesterday, the final from this morning.”

  The team sat forward in their chairs studying the images. They may joke and rib each other, but each of them took their missions serious. They knew lack of intel could mean their deaths. Or their teammate’s death.

  “I sent Cord in last night to get some intel up close,” Grey said. Everyone turned to Cord Carter, their gazes assessing.

  “I set up right outside the compound, in an abandoned warehouse. The trucks arrived around midnight. Three of them. Big rigs capable of carrying anything from kidnap victims to weapons or both. I never got eyes on the contents. But I did see the drivers, and from the way they moved, they weren’t amateurs. And they definitely weren’t Lobello,” Cord said.

  “My people are running their pictures through our database to get names and backgrounds. We should have that intel within the hour.” Grey nodded for Cord to continue.

  “A few minutes later, a black Land Rover pulled in. The passenger kept his head down and covered with a hat so I couldn’t get a clear shot of his features. Pull it up.”

  Grey turned to someone off screen and a new image popped up on the far right. The man was in a grey suit, small in stature. His features completely obscured. “We didn’t get a positive ID, but the size and clothing match up perfectly with Lee Brown.”

  Hunter stood so fast his chair rolled back six feet. Ranger grabbed his brother’s forearm to restrain him, but Hunter shook it off. Brown had nearly killed Hunter’s wife, Evie. Ranger could imagine the killing rage his brother must feel and had every intention of making sure Hunter got his revenge.

  But more importantly, he’d made off with the weapons before the team could get to him.

  “Where is he now?” Hunter’s commanding tone boomed across the metal building. He leaned forward and planted his fists on the table.

  “Sit down Chief. I understand your anger, but you need to hear the rest.” Grey s
tared Hunter down, his deadly gaze glued to Hunter until he finally resumed his seat. “While Carter was pulling recon he saw something even more interesting.”

  Cord started again, “After the man went inside, I saw someone trying to climb over the compound’s wall. Only he wasn’t trying to get in, he was trying to escape. I went to investigate and caught one of the Lobello’s prisoners.” Cord got up and exited the building, only to return a minute later with a small boy.

  The boy had a large blindfold on, obscuring a lot of his face, but he had dark skin, dark hair and was as scrawny as a bean pole. He looked to be about six or seven. Mexican for sure.

  Ranger froze. This boy was all legs and arms and clumsy. Just like another young boy he’d recently been around. Shit.

  Cord pushed the boy into a chair at the table and worked on the knot at the back of the blindfold. Ranger held his breath. No fucking way could it be Pedro’s boy.

  When Cord finally got the blindfold off, Ranger’s heart plummeted. Arturo sat directly across from him, his eyes red and watery, his gaze frightened. “What the fuck is the meaning of this?”

  Ranger shot to his feet and strode around the table. Anger fueled his movements, his fists clenched. When he stood next to Artie, he spun the boy’s chair around to face him. Artie cringed and held up his hands, shielding his face, but not before Ranger saw the large purple bruise on the boy’s right eye.

  Rage ramped up inside him and Ranger spun around, his vision tunneling on Cord. “You’re going to pay for that.”

  Maybe Ranger still had some residual anger from this morning, and maybe that clouded his judgment, but it didn’t stop him from diving for Cord and wrapping his hands around the man’s neck. Cord pushed back, dropped his chin, grabbed Ranger’s arm and spun around. He used the momentum to throw Ranger to the ground. Cord followed him down, slamming his forearm into Ranger’s windpipe. “Stop. I know you don’t know me that well, but I do not hurt kids. Ever.”

  Cord punctuated each word and held Ranger to the floor. Ranger stared into the man’s eyes, trying to get a read if he was telling the truth. He saw nothing but straight forward honesty and determination. And the exact same shade of green as Shane’s eyes.