The whole team was accounted for. The guys were doing just about everything save of turning their backs on Priscilla.
Was she really that bad?
What the hell had happened between when they’d talked in the cell to when she was rescued to put her in this mood?
This was why Brenden was better off not messing with women. He didn’t understand this one bit.
“You lied to me,” Priscilla announced.
Brenden cocked his head to one side and glanced back at her. “When did I lie?”
She threw her hands up. “The whole damn time.”
No.
Oh, no.
She was not going to decide the truth.
He turned to face her, giving her his full attention. “Name one lie I told you.”
“You never told me you were there to save me.”
“Did you ask?”
“Why would I ask that?”
“I did not lie to you once. Everything I said was the truth.”
“Was it?” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Are you really a SEAL?”
“I was.”
“Prove it.”
Brenden grit his teeth and narrowed his gaze at her. Was she fucking serious?
“How would you like me to do that?” he asked.
She cocked her hip, one shoulder dipping with the move. “I don’t know. That’s on you.”
Nolan shoved up from the table while simultaneously blowing his nose. Brenden held up his hand to stall his teammate coming to his defense. If Priscilla had a beef with him, he’d deal with it.
An idea came to Brenden. He didn’t like it, but it was an easy solution. He pulled his phone out and tapped the screen, bringing up a social media page for one of his fellow SEALs. The image at the top of the profile was a picture that would forever be burned into Brenden’s mind.
It had been raining steadily all day before the funeral. Somehow the sky knew this was not a happy day. Brenden had been one of the pallbearers. A photographer had captured him and his fellow SEALs carrying the casket out of the little chapel to where the horse drawn carriage waited to take his friend to his final resting place. Brenden had glanced straight at the camera in that moment. And this was the photograph his buddy’s family had chosen to commemorate his memory online.
“Here.” He handed his phone to Priscilla.
Her eyes widened, and she opened her mouth as if to say something then shut it. She continued to stare at his phone, the image filling the screen.
“Is that satisfactory proof?” He didn’t like the idea she thought him a fraud.
She finally looked at him, the anger gone and in its place plain distrust. “Were you telling the truth about the women you work with?”
He took the phone then turned toward the sofa. “Priscilla, have you met Melody Nguyen?”
Melody’s gaze flicked toward him. The warning was subtle, but there. How was it no one else on the team had thought to fucking Google the woman? But that was one of Melody’s greatest superpowers, she liked to surprise people. She was an expert when it came to using people’s assumptions against them. Brenden was pretty sure even Grant wasn’t aware of her full history. Brenden just happened to sleep very little and suffered from acute curiosity.
“We met,” Priscilla said.
Grant straightened, a tablet in hand. “If you two are done, we have some things to discuss?”
Brenden nodded. He wasn’t keen to be questioned further about things. He’d done his job well, Priscilla was alive and safe. That was it.
The team circled up around the dining table with Grant and Melody at one end together. It was a nice change. Those two had seemed locked in a power struggle for the first year Melody was with them. As of late they’d found a rhythm and everything ran smoother for it.
“Okay.” Grant glanced at Brenden. “Rio police have asked for the two of you to assist in identifying the people who kidnapped and held you. They will be reaching out to do those interviews virtually since our objective is to get Ms.. Yilmaz home as soon as possible.”
“I’m not going home,” Priscilla said.
Grant frowned at her and Brenden grit his teeth.
She glanced around the table. “I can’t go home. I need to go to the Asclepius Health home office. They need to know drugs that were supposed to be destroyed are on the market in their name. This is a big deal.”
“We can work with that,” Melody said. “I’ll communicate with the flight team to change our destination. It could delay or move up our departure, so everyone please keep your phones close tonight.”
One destination was the same as the next to Brenden.
“Okay. Then that’s the important stuff,” Grant said. “Everyone, get something to eat, get some rest and we’ll head to Chicago in the morning. It’s going to be sixteen hours traveling at least, but in the near future this whole thing with be a bad dream.”
Brenden nearly snorted at that.
Bad dream.
Dreams were the least of it, but Grant couldn’t understand that.
Brenden needed to do something.
He pivoted toward the suite door with a mind to go back to his room.
“Hey, man.” Nolan jogged to catch up with him. His voice was off, all the congestion making him sound weird. The way the blond haired man looked at Brenden, like he thought Brenden might flip a switch and rage out, grated on his nerves. “We were going to order up something to eat. You want to stick around?”
“No, thanks.” He pulled the suite door open and stepped out to the hallway, closing the door in Nolan’s face.
The guys meant well, but he just wanted space.
Brenden returned to the relative safety of his room. He stared at the TV a moment then the tub. Priscilla had been impressed when he said this was where he was staying because the tubs were supposed to be great. He supposed the large bath was extraordinary.
The space, tub not included, was too small. He wanted to get out. Do something.
A sharp knock at the door brought him around.
Who was it this time?
Brenden crossed to the door and glanced through the peephole.
Vaughn?
What the hell did he want?
Brenden cracked the door and peered out at the dark haired man. “What?”
“Wanna play a couple hands?” Vaughn shuffled a deck of worn cards.
“No.” Brenden shut the door before Vaughn could suggest another activity.
Brenden needed to do something. While there were other options, like the hotel bar or the pool, he decided to change into gym clothes and head downstairs. A workout would tire out his body and with any luck when he finally lay down to sleep his brain would have no choice but to take a rest.
Maybe then his head would reset and whatever strange spell Priscilla had woven over him would be over.
PRISCILLA HAD TRADED one cell for another. Granted, being put up in this swanky hotel was a world of difference from the concrete and chain-link she’d been in the last few days.
She turned the TV in her room off. For one, she could hardly figure out how to work the thing. Her mind wasn’t ready to check out. She kept going back to that moment in the van when she’d been certain they were about to get captured again. The overwhelming sense of guilt she’d had for dragging Brenden into this had nearly drowned her.
And then he’d told her he was saving her.
She was such an idiot, and he was a big, fat liar no matter what he claimed.
Where was he?
She rolled off the bed and slid her feet into the sneakers Melody had given her.
Priscilla needed to find Brenden. She didn’t know what she’d say to him or why this mattered so much.
She walked out of the bedroom and into the main part of the suite.
The four guys were playing cards and eating popcorn. The woman wasn’t around and neither was Brenden. Priscilla had gathered from their short exchange that he wasn’t staying in the suite like
the others.
Where was he?
She steeled her spine and strode across to the table.
The Hispanic guy saw her first. His smile vanished, and he watched her with a familiar, wary gaze.
“Need something?” he asked.
“Where’s Brenden?” Her insides heated. She wasn’t sure what her obsession was or why she had to talk to him, she just did.
“He’s off right now. Can I help you?” the guy asked.
“You can tell me here Brenden is.”
The guy glanced at the guy in charge who shrugged. Some silent conversation passed between them then the Hispanic man pushed his chair back.
“He’s down in the gym. I’ll show you.”
“Thanks.”
What the hell are you doing?
Priscilla didn’t know. She couldn’t fathom what talking to Brenden would resolve for her. All she knew was that she had to ask him, why?
“I’m Vaughn, by the way,” the Hispanic man said as he opened the door to the suite for her. He was dressed in slacks and a polo shirt with a gun at his waist.
“Oh. Hi.” She filed his name away for later.
They walked down the hall to the elevator. “Your file said you do martial arts competitions?”
“As a kid.” God, did she sound as bitchy to him as she did herself? “My parents thought enrolling me in Taekwondo would be good for me.”
“Was it?”
She pondered that question.
The easiest answer was yes. She’d found confidence in her practice. The classes gave her an outlet to express her fear and anger. Looking back she could also see how she’d hidden in it, throwing herself at classes, trying to be good because maybe next time she could fight off her kidnappers.
“I learned a lot about myself,” she finally answered.
The elevator reached the bottom floor. Vaughn didn’t make a move to get off.
“Gym is the next door over,” he said.
She paused. She’d expected a bit more of a chaperone, not that she minded a bit of freedom. “You aren’t going to shadow me?”
Vaughn grinned at her. “The team’s watching you right now. Building security has added four guys to tonight’s shift. And you’re going to go pick a fight with Brenden, who is the human Hulk. I’m useless.”
She had the strangest urge to smile back at him.
Hulk.
That was an apt description for Brenden size, except the green bit.
Priscilla shook her head and turned toward the double glass doors leading into the hotel gym. They were frosted so she couldn’t see inside. Couldn’t prepare herself to see him again. She took a deep breath and decided she was going for it. Brenden had gotten under her skin and she wasn’t going to rest until she’d figured out what it was about him that bothered her. If that’s what was wrong. She just didn’t know.
She stepped into the gym. The latest Latin pop music playing vied with the sound of a treadmill being pounded to death.
Brenden faced away from her, staring out at a pool view. His arms pumped as he ran. Sweat had soaked most of his gray T-shirt, molding it to his body. A bottle of water lay on the floor, empty.
She stared at it and her throat tightened.
He’d gone after that guard just so he could give water to the kid. She’d thought he was a good guy, that she could trust him. But he hadn’t been truthful with her from the start. She was used to people lying to her. In the corporate environment it happened daily. Everyone did it, either because they didn’t have the spine to say no when she wanted something for a project or to cover their own interests.
The difference was that for some reason she still didn’t understand she’d trusted him in that cage of a cell. A strange man she had no reason to trust.
This was her chance for answers.
Priscilla took a step toward Brenden.
He reached up and jabbed the stop button on the treadmill then stepped off, pivoting to face her. His breathing was heavy. Sweat dripped down his brow, his hair slicked to his head. His dark gaze bored into hers.
Brenden wasn’t the least bit surprised she was there.
“How’d you know I was here?” she asked.
“Reflection.” He nodded at the window.
Well that made sense.
She crossed her arms over her chest. She wasn’t in the habit of allowing imposing men to intimidate her. Brenden didn’t scare her. No, she couldn’t quite tell what it was about him that got to her. That was what bothered her.
Answers.
“Why didn’t you tell me the whole truth?”
Brenden grabbed a towel and swiped it over his face before speaking. “Because I didn’t know if you would risk our extraction. The minute that guy gave you his sob story about helping people I wasn’t sure if I could rely on you to leave when the time came.”
“Seriously?” Priscilla gaped at him. “You think I’d have given up my safety?”
“Why’d you refuse to give them the cash they asked for?” Brenden grabbed a second water bottle and took a swig.
“That’s different.”
“Explain it to me.”
“They weren’t after my personal accounts. I never keep much cash on hand when I travel, anyway. They wanted me to drain the company account. The one that funds all of our charity programs. If I’d have done that, it would take months for our budget to get back on track. It’s totally different.”
“It doesn’t sound different to me. Maybe to you it is. We’ll have to agree to disagree. My job is about managing risk. My objective was to get you out alive with as little risk to my team as possible. Some of these guys just came back from medical leave. One of them just had his first kid. I made the best choices I could given the circumstances. Everyone got out, and no one died. I’m not sorry about it.”
No one died.
“The security guard died.” She swallowed and glanced away.
If she’d have handed over the cash, how many people would have died without the services her charity provided? That was a question she couldn’t answer. But she knew how many had died because she hadn’t.
One man.
“Hey?” Brenden reached over and briefly gripped her arm. “Don’t do that.”
“What?” She frowned at him.
“That security guard’s death isn’t on you. You did what you thought was right. You can’t help that bad people do bad things.”
“Is it really that simple? I mean, what if they were telling the truth?”
“That’s still not on you.”
She looked up at him. When had he crossed the gym to stand in front of her?
Someone had bandaged the cut on the side of his head. Without the blood he actually looked rougher, maybe scarier to some people. But not to her. No, she’d seen him scary, and this wasn’t it.
“Spot me?” he asked.
“What?” She frowned. “Why?”
“Because you need something to do. Because right now you don’t want to sit in a room, watch TV or bullshit with the others.”
Priscilla blinked at him.
He wasn’t wrong.
Was he right?
She watched him place an ungodly amount of weight on the bar for the bench press. If he expected her to help lift that he was sorely mistaken. Still, playing the role of spotter was better than the alternatives.
Neither of them spoke as he began his reps with her standing at his head.
Was he right about her and his reasoning for not telling her?
She chewed her lip and studied him. He was too focused on the bar to take notice of her, anyway. Had her assessment of him changed?
In their cage, she’d been leery of him until he took on their guard for the water. Brenden was still that guy. And he’d had not just her, but his team to think about. If she were considering the safety of several people, she could appreciate his cautious approach. Even if she wished she’d been one of those trusted ones. Being kept in the dark sucked.
&nbs
p; Had her priorities been screwed up the whole time? What other problems had she caused by doing what she’d thought was the right thing at the time?
Brenden’s arms straightened, and he placed the bar back in the cradling arms. He rolled up to sit, his back toward her. She leaned forward, elbows on the bar and kept watching him.
He was a SEAL. A survivor. A protector. He was a damn good man from everything she’d seen of him. Maybe he was a better judge than her?
“Was I wrong?” she asked. It was a little odd hearing her own voice after so much silence.
Brenden turned to face her. “You did what you thought was right. Nothing wrong with that.”
“But was that the wrong thing to do?”
“Don’t do that to yourself.” He rose to his feet. “You can’t change the past.”
“But I can learn from it.”
“What do you think you learned?”
“Don’t get kidnapped again.”
Brenden snorted then gestures to the bar. “Want to take a turn?”
“Sure.”
This wasn’t her typical routine, but right now she needed someone else to guide her.
He helped her load the bar with an appropriate weight then they each took up their positions. She gripped the bar then glanced up at him. He was just looking at her, waiting for her move.
She’d asked him out. Did he remember that? Had he accepted because it played to this story better?
Priscilla lifted the bar and set her eyes on the ceiling, not his chiseled face, and began her reps.
Dating and men weren’t her strong points. It wasn’t that she wanted to be alone; she just didn’t know how to be with people. When she’d come back to her family after those weeks of a nightmare, she’d lived and breathed for her Taekwondo, as if that was the key to warding off all bad things. Her friends no longer understood her. She didn’t know how to connect with others. It wasn’t until she’d gone to college and scheduled a series of sessions with the counselor to work through her anxiety over moving away from home that she’d gotten to the heart of her issues, the trauma she’d endured, the unhealthy coping mechanisms she’d created for herself.
Counseling had turned into real therapy and progress. She knew she’d grown. The evidence was there. But some days she felt just like that scared kid all over again. That was normally when she’d call the girls. The ones she’d met in college while doing her therapy homework.
Dangerously Broken (Aegis Group Lepta Team Book 4) Page 5