Men of Mercy: The Complete Story

by Cross, Lindsay

  Hayden spied a cluster of yellow near the center of the field. “Can we go out there?”

  Hoyt followed the direction she was pointing. Then he scanned the forest around them, his gaze calculating, like he was searching for something. After a full minute, he replied in the affirmative.

  He went to the edge of the tall grass and stopped. Hayden strode right past him, heading into the field, holding her arms waist high, palms down. The tops of the grass tickled her forearms. She was surrounded by everything home—now she just had to make Hoyt feel at home too. “I want to pick some flowers for Maxine and Dad. I need to tell them I'm sorry. About this morning.”

  “I told them about your professor. Neither of them are upset with you. You don't really have anything to apologize for.”

  In all the madness of the morning, she'd managed to forget Professor Latham. The tears threatened to surface in her eyes again, but she pushed them back. “No, there's no excuse for my behavior.”

  They were in the middle of the field now, right next to the flowers. Hoyt plucked one and spun it between his thumb and finger. “Still stubborn.”

  Hayden glanced over, and Hoyt's breathtaking blue eyes were locked right on her. Her heart stopped for a brief moment, the deep connection between them rekindling. And then he looked down at the flower in his hands and the current vanished.

  Hayden wanted to reach out, yank that feeling back and hold it tight to her chest. Instead, she blinked and reached for a flower. “I suspect Hank would agree with you.”

  Hayden bunched the Goldenrod together and held them out to Hoyt. “Would you hold these?”

  He cradled them carefully, like he was afraid to break the tiny stems.

  Warmth flooded through her, but Hayden averted her face. Spotting a patch of purple coneflowers, she walked to the back edge of the pasture, careful to keep her smile hidden from him. If Hoyt Crowe were truly broken, he would've crushed the flowers in his grip. And instead of carefully setting her off his lap earlier, he would've thrown her across the room.

  Somehow she had to get him to see that the old Hoyt was still in there. That he had just changed and grown.

  “Hayden, I need to talk to you about something important.” His voice dipped down deep and a shiver slid down her spine. Whatever he wanted to say wasn't good. Not if his tone was any indication.

  Hayden waded through the waist-high pasture, unwilling to break the spell just yet. She had to figure out a way to help Hoyt mend his scars. “Let me grab some of those flowers near the edge.”

  The wind blew and the field whooshed all around them. Don't get in too deep, it seemed to say.

  She agreed with the professor. You can't help someone if you get too close to them to remain objective. The problem was, Hayden James had been in too deep from the very beginning.

  Hayden reached the back edge of the field and picked a flower. The tall trees looming across the path, thick and dark. Tall spikes jutting up into the sky. “You know these only grow...”

  Something crashed in the woods in front of them. Before Hayden could form a thought, Hoyt threw her to the ground behind him. Her heart skittered wild and fast as she pushed up on her hands. “What is it?”

  Hoyt towered over her, pistol drawn, his expression deadly. “Stay down.”

  Every trace of softness was gone. In its place was a cold ruthless machine carefully zeroing in on its target. The crashing grew louder. Hoyt sighted his weapon.

  Hayden covered her ears and slammed her eyes shut, waiting for the gunshot.

  First there was a crash. Then a pounding noise like a gallop. She cracked her eyes, unable to stand the tension.

  A magnificent buck had pulled up in the clearing, his head reared back, his black eyes fixed on the intruders.

  “A deer.” Hoyt slowly lowered his weapon as the buck shook its tan coat and took off, crashing back into the woods.

  “A deer,” Hayden echoed, her brain not yet functioning.

  She put a hand on her chest, trying to get her breathing back to normal. Hoyt had reacted so fast. She'd barely had time to think…Still couldn't think.

  Hoyt tucked his pistol into the waist band at his back. He held out a hand, helped her to her feet and then stepped back, out of the pasture and onto the shorn path.

  “I'm sorry,” Hoyt said.

  The bouquet of wildflowers lay at her feet. Crushed into the earth.

  Hayden took a breath. Baby steps. Remember, baby steps.

  Chapter 18

  Christ, he'd hurt her. Again. The sudden noise had switched him to killer mode, ready to obliterate any threat. Now Hayden stood there, waist deep in the pasture, wringing her hands. There were tears in her eyes, and he’d put them there. He'd even crushed her flowers.

  Hoyt reigned in his ferocity, trying to figure out how to mend her trampled feelings now that he knew the threat was a deer not a possible terrorist. “I'm sorry.”

  “Really, it's okay, they were just a bunch of wildflowers.” But her chin wobbled and she spun around and walked back toward Hank's house.

  Idiot. He was so callous and unthinking and undeserving. If he were smart, he’d keep his distance.

  But Hoyt took off jogging and fell in next to her, slowing to match her pace. Hayden cut him a quick glance, her lips tugged down. “Stop looking at me like that.”

  “Like what?” Hoyt said.

  “Like I'm breakable or something.”

  “I don't think you're fragile. You’re one of the strongest people I know.” He meant it. She had faced a town full of scandal and gossip and kept right on going. Yeah, she'd screwed up, she’d slept with a married man, who also used to be Ranger’s best friend, but she'd admitted her mistake and apologized and moved on. Most people would have skipped town. She was strong, brave and proud.

  “Strong people don't cry this much.” Hayden picked up her pace, beating him to the back door, and swept inside.

  Hoyt followed her through the door and shut it behind them. Hank's kitchen was all man. Dark tile, dark walls, dark counters. His rustic wood cabinets stretched to the left and a hand-made table stood off to the right, flanked by thick wood benches.

  Everything about this place screamed bachelor pad. Everything but the pictures covering every spare space.

  At that moment, Hoyt wanted to be part of that family more than he wanted anything else. He'd never had that. Never had a dad to take pictures of him holding up his first fish or standing in his swim trunks with his arm around his brother. Two skinny, knobby-kneed kids with huge grins on their faces.

  Or maybe even a picture of him and Hayden, with their own growing family.

  His brother had done the best he could but part of Hoyt still mourned the loss of their parents and their childhood.

  Stop it. You know better than to dream.

  He heard a drawer slam down the hall, followed by Hayden's mutter.

  Now what? He had to stride down there and tell her more bad news. Hoyt turned back to the pictures on the mantle, letting his gaze linger on the last one of Hayden and her big grin. Nothing about him, or the news he had to tell her would restore that look of unfiltered joy. Somehow, he would find a way to put that smile back on her face, just not today.

  But who better to deliver bad news than Hoyt?

  He squared his shoulders and walked down the wood-paneled hall to her bedroom. Her door was open and she paced from her dresser to her bed. He hated seeing her like this, but dammit, what he had to tell her was about to make it a lot worse. “Hayden, stop pacing.”

  She kept going like he hadn't said a word. Hoyt propped a shoulder against the door frame and watched her small quick steps.

  Hoyt took a deep breath and crossed the room. He snagged her hand. Heat, white hot like electricity, zinged up his arm.

  Hayden stared up at him with wide beautiful eyes and he got lost in the small golden flecks mixed in with the blue. Then she glanced down to where his fingers encircled her wrist. When she looked back up, there was hope in her ey
es.

  His mouth went dry. Say something. “I'll get you more flowers.”

  She didn't move or blink, and for the life of him, he couldn't figure out what she was thinking. And then her gaze turned liquid silver, and he knew. He knew from the way his body reacted, his heart pounding slow and hard, his skin tingling with awareness.

  She licked her full flushed lips and the need to kiss her nearly took him to his knees.

  He had to stop, had to put some distance between them and get his dick out of his brain.

  Hoyt took a small step back and dropped her hand. The cold rushed back in, wrapping around him with an insidious twist. “I need you to listen. What I have to tell you is important.”

  Hoyt braced his feet shoulder width apart and crossed his arms. “Sit down.”

  Hayden sunk onto the mattress. “What is it?”

  How should he broach the subject? He'd always been better with moving straight to the facts, delivering blunt answers. But that was with his team, his brother. Tough men who couldn’t give a shit about feelings and emotions. But right now, Hayden's feelings and emotions mattered, they mattered a lot. He cleared his throat. “We confirmed the link between Malik’s uncle and the terrorist organization. I think he is a threat to you.”

  Hoyt gave himself a silent pat on the back. That hadn't sounded so bad. He’d done a good job of playing down the real threat—that terrorists would track them down and kill them all.

  “What kind of threat?”

  “The kind we are used to dealing with and fully equipped to handle.”

  Hayden's gaze narrowed. “You mean terrorist? You think he wants to hurt me?”

  “It's not that simple—”

  Hayden held up a hand. “Don't sugar coat it for me, just give it to me straight. I want to know the truth, I can handle it.”

  Hell, he'd barely been able to handle it—how was she supposed to? It was so bad that their entire team had been sent into a scramble. They were gathering up their families and moving them here, close to headquarters on Hank's property. Hell, the situation was so bad Hank had trusted Hoyt to watch over his daughter.

  And Hayden was giving him the evil eye, like he was thinking about lying to her or something. Fine, if she wanted the truth, he'd give it to her.

  “Malik has been tracking us. Ethan has managed to uncover some hidden digital footprints. I think Malik’s been using your connection to get to our Team, to your brothers.”

  Chapter 19

  Hayden froze on the spot, the blood leeching from her arms and legs. “What? How? Aren't your identities all kept secret?”

  “They were, but the information was leaked to the leader of ISA, who we think sent it to him. We’ve already taken out two of his people. Not counting Malik, we know there are more, but we just don’t know how many.”

  “I know you think I’m wrong, but I just can’t believe it.” No wonder he'd reacted so violently in the field.

  This wasn't happening, it wasn't real. Stuff like that didn't happen here, at home. Not again.

  “How can you guard this place? Dad has over a hundred acres.” She tried to picture it like in the movies. Big guys with machine guns and guard dogs walking around the yard.

  “We'll have roving guards and thermal cameras. I'll set up overwatch. We can protect you, Hayden, all of you. As long as you stay put in your dad's house.”

  Why was he just standing there? She needed him to put his arms around her and hold her close. This was turning into a nightmare with men hunting them and trying to kill them.

  Hoyt would be here constantly, watching her, protecting her.

  Maybe this wasn't so bad after all.

  But then what about school and her job? Graduation was just a few weeks away, and if she skipped out on finals, she'd lose everything. “I can't stay here, I have finals in three weeks, the professor's funeral. I have to present my research to the board. I have to go to work.”

  “You think a part-time waitressing gig and research is more important than your life?”

  “Not more important, but it is important.”

  If possible, Hoyt seemed to grow even bigger, his muscles rippling over his arms. “This isn't some bully. These are trained killers who have only one goal. And that goal is to kill anyone tied to Task Force Scorpion.”

  Hoyt stalked closer, but Hayden stood where she was, holding her ground. “So we're just supposed to let them take our freedom? Doesn’t the president always say we’re letting the terrorists win when we change our lives out of fear?”

  “Dammit, Hayden, he doesn't have to be afraid. His limousine has more armor than our Humvee, and he’s constantly surrounded by Secret Service. These people are here, in your front yard, right now. I'm not letting you leave these grounds.”

  “Try and stop me.” She clenched her trembling hands into fists and stepped closer to him, toe to toe.

  “We know they're here—we just don't know who they are. That's why they're called sleeper cells. You really want to risk your life over a semester of school that you can retake anytime?”

  “Excuse me? You think it's that easy? I can just call up all my teachers and ask them to hold off on flunking me?” Hayden barely restrained the urge to scream. She spun around, ready to stride out of the room.

  She wasn't about to let some threat control her life, even if the thought of terrorism scared the living crap out of her.

  Hoyt’s next words stopped her in her tracks. “Do you not remember what I said this morning? They killed Professor Latham.”

  When she could breathe again, she slowly spun back around to face him. “No, it was Professor Rhoden. I saw the police drag her away this morning on the news.”

  “They’ll clear her by tomorrow. She had nothing to do with this. We let the police take her to distract the real culprit. If he thinks we don’t know, he might get lazy, make a mistake.”

  “How do you know for sure?”

  Hoyt's entire expression pulled tight and shut down, like someone had reached up and flipped off a switch. Dread as heavy as a boulder settled in her stomach.

  “I'm the one who found him. I found a room upstairs filled with intel on ISA, on our Team, our families. I found evidence against Malik.”

  Hayden started to shake and jerk, her body as unsure of how to react as she was of what to feel. “What?”

  “He’s the one who signed all the student visa’s, Hayden, coincidences this big don’t happen. He was involved.”

  Hayden sank back onto her bed, unable to hold herself upright for one more second. Her entire world had been twisted and turned upside down. “I can't believe it. He wouldn't have mistreated a mouse. There’s no way he sponsored terrorists.”

  “I'm sorry. I know he meant a lot to you, and I didn't want to tell you, but his murder leaves little doubt of his involvement. Rhoden didn’t do it.”

  Bile shot up her throat and Hayden swallowed hard and dug her fingers into her comforter. Tears blurred her vision. No. No. Not Latham, not him.

  She felt the mattress dip beside her and then Hoyt's warm presence was next to her. “I'm sorry you had to find out this way, but I need you to understand how serious this situation is.”

  Hayden heard him as if through a long, broken tunnel. Too much…she couldn't process the information.

  “The terrorists took him out to cover their trail. They knew we'd discover the connection. Latham got close to you to use you.” Hoyt touched her hand, hesitant, and then his fingers wrapped around hers and his thumb stroked the back of her hand.

  Hayden jerked, her thoughts warping beneath the weight of his words, unable to process or fully comprehend. Latham used her? He treated her like family. Like a granddaughter…

  “I would never ask you to drop out of school or quit your job unless your life was in danger.” His soothing strokes turned into small circles, the touch mesmerizing her. Hypnotizing her.

  Lulling her to forget about Latham and terrorism and all the horrors in the world. But she coul
dn't, just like she couldn't believe Latham was guilty.

  No matter what Hoyt said, she knew Professor Latham hadn’t knowingly helped terrorists, just like she knew he hadn’t used her.

  She had to figure out a way to prove them wrong, but she couldn't do it while locked up in this house.

  “You know what you said about the Secret Service?”

  “Yeah.” He held her gaze, strong and steady.

  “I'm gonna need my own detail.”

  * * *

  “I have to tell you, I love your new ride.”

  Hoyt cast Hayden the meanest glare he could pull off, and she reacted by wiggling on the overstuffed leather seat of the most luxurious 'off-road' vehicle he'd ever seen.

  Fucking Hummer. Not only had it aided and abetted a terrorist in nearly killing him, but it was now helping Hayden put her life at risk. If only the commander hadn’t latched onto his idea to use the beast to lure out other suspects. “Hank is going to beat my ass. Your brothers are going to beat my ass.”

  Hoyt pulled into the crowded parking lot in front of Stanley Hall, stopping and starting every few feet as college students blithely walked in front of him, heads down, focused on their phones. By the time Hoyt actually parked, he was a tightly coiled spring ready to shoot out of the SUV and knock some students' heads together. Their lack of awareness astounded him.

  “I won't let them, I promise.” Hayden drew his attention from the swarm of people crisscrossing between the rows of cars on their way to the building.

  “This isn't a good idea. There are too many people here. I can't protect you.” Hoyt put the SUV in park and scanned the parking lot, stopping on each dark-haired male in range, which was a lot. Too many to watch.

  “I believe in you.”

  “Yeah, well you can believe in me all you want, but I can't stop a bullet if I don't see it coming.” Hoyt yanked his Beretta out, made sure it was locked and loaded, and tucked it at his back. His knife went into his boot. He was reaching for his rifle case in the backseat when Hayden gently touched his arm.