Instead, he braced his hands on the doorframe and stopped.
She turned and lifted up on tiptoe then pressed her lips to his in a quick kiss.
“Good night.”
“Night,” he mumbled.
Watching that door close was both confusing and hard. What the hell was going on in his head?
Brenden pushed away and made it as far as the sofa before his ability to go further left him. He sat down and stared at the TV without seeing the program.
“You had a fun night?” Vaughn asked.
Brenden didn’t reply. He still wasn’t sure what the fuck had just happened to him, or if it was a good thing. He leaned back and stretched his legs out. There was no chance in hell he was sleeping now. His brain was too awake, too focused on the woman who’d just shut the door in his face.
“Really never thought I’d see the day you hooked up with a client,” Vaughn said.
Brenden grunted.
Vaughn leaned closer and pitched his voice lower. “You hear about Ethan?”
Brenden had been prepared for some other asinine comment, not that. He turned his head and frowned at Vaughn. They’d taken a job several months back for one of the original investors, one that came with very high stakes. In the process, they’d wound up rescuing a guy that had worked for Aegis and had been presumed dead. Only, Ethan didn’t know he was Ethan, least not the last time Brenden saw him.
“Should I take that as a no?” Vaughn asked.
“What’s the latest?”
“Melody and Grant saw him. They had to go talk to the big boss. Sounds like Ethan’s locked up in a padded room. Nothing’s getting through to him.”
Shit.
Brenden leaned his head back and stared at the ceiling.
From what he knew, Ethan had been missing for four or five years. That made the couple of months Brenden had been held prisoner sound like a cake walk. At least he’d known who he was when it was over.
He glanced at the door to the master suite, watching the line of light at the floor and knew he wasn’t going anywhere.
7.
FRIDAY. ARTURO LOBO’S Home, Juárez, Mexico.
Arturo pried his eyes open. His phone clamored away, the screen lighting up the room.
What now?
He pushed up and groped blindly for the device. He tapped the answer button to shut it up then took a moment to inhale and ease back against the headboard.
He didn’t recognize the number. “What?”
“The weather is bad. Real bad. Hurricane level bad.”
Arturo frowned and looked at the number again. “Where are you calling me from?”
“I bought a burner phone, like we talked about?” The man’s voice trembled and shook.
He closed his eyes. “Then you should have called my burner. What’s going on? What disaster is striking us?”
“There was a break in at one of your facilities in Rio.”
Arturo bit his tongue to keep from saying, not mine. No, the South American expansion was after his time leading DDM. But that was a minor detail that didn’t matter right now.
“When?” He threw the covers back.
“You know why this is bad, don’t you?” The man’s voice dropped to a whisper.
“Of course I know.” Arturo stood and prayed he could suffer idiots a while longer.
“What are we going to do? This is the same group who kidnapped that girl. The one that runs the charity division? I heard corporate sent someone down there to rescue her. If she knows, if she saw—”
“Handle it.” Arturo could only deal with so many disasters. The Rio situation was manageable so long as he got down there.
“How?”
“Hire someone. I don’t know. Figure it out. I’ve got people in Rio—”
“Can’t they take care of her, too?”
Arturo stalked to his closet and yanked clothes off hangers. “These aren’t that kind of people.”
“How do I find people for a job like this?”
Save me from fools.
Arturo grit his teeth.
He knew someone, a team he’d used before. But he couldn’t be the one to hire them. Things hadn’t ended on the best note.
“I’ll send you details. Pay what they want, tell them everything you can and they’ll handle it.” Arturo had always been good at finding the right people to do the job. It was a skill he’d honed, using it to gather the best damn team for DDM. But Dad had taken that away from him.
“What if we can’t put the cat back in the bag?”
Then Arturo would leave his partner holding the bag, but he couldn’t tell his partner that.
“Then we kill the cat and get rid of the evidence.” This wasn’t the first time Arturo had gotten his hands dirty.
FRIDAY. PRIVATE AIRPORT, Rio de Janeiro, Brazil.
Priscilla sat ramrod straight in the back seat of the SUV. She was grateful the team had recovered her suitcase. If she was going to walk off the company jet and into a corporate meeting tomorrow, she didn’t want to wear yoga pants and flip-flops. What she had to tell the executives was bad news of the worst kind.
Which was what her head should be thinking about. Instead all she wanted to do was ask where the hell Brenden was.
He hadn’t been present at breakfast or when they’d checked out of the hotel. He wasn’t the only missing one, but he was the one she cared about.
The SUV pulled past the hangars and onto the tarmac. A white jet with the blue and black logo of Asclepius Health sat with the hatch open and bustling activity around it.
Parked off to one side was another dark SUV. Two men were unloading luggage from the vehicle and handing them to the plane staff.
One of them had very broad shoulders.
Shoulders she was intimately acquainted with.
God, if Priscilla could go back and punch her past self in the ovaries, she’d do it in a heartbeat.
Why had she ruined a perfectly good night by shutting the door in Brenden’s face?
She hadn’t wanted to. Not really. Her brain had told her it was the best move for both of them. She’d never before wanted to linger after sex, but good things had to come to an end. In the moment she’d thought choosing the moment would be good for her, them. Instead it was like she’d opened a candy bar, eaten a little then tossed the rest.
Priscilla could have had the whole thing, but she’d cut herself off after one taste. That was a regret she’d have to live with.
The SUV came to a stop. Before Priscilla could gather her thoughts, her door was whisked open and the dark haired, stern man who was in charge of the team offered her a hand out.
How did she tell him she’d rather sit here and watch Brenden for a moment?
She didn’t.
She’d closed that door, literally, and it was time to move on.
Priscilla gathered her few things and headed for the plane, Melody falling into step with her.
“The boxes are already loaded,” she said.
Right.
The thing Priscilla should be thinking about.
“Do we know if anyone from DDM or Asclepius has been notified about last night beyond what I sent in?” She hadn’t said much, just informed the main offices she’d be in and needed to speak with everyone.
“There are bigger problems.” Melody handed her a newspaper.
Priscilla slowed her step and unfolded the paper.
The front page head line read, Fire Destroys Medical Warehouse.
Melody kept pace with her. “What I’m guessing? The thieves torched the place when things went south.”
“Why?” Priscilla stopped and scanned the article. “To cover up the body? To—what? Did they get caught?”
“It’s unclear.”
She glanced up at Melody’s odd tone, taking in the other woman’s furrowed brow and pronounced frown.
“What do you mean, it’s unclear? There’s no mention of a break-in or anything, just that the building burned down...�
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“This morning when I called to check-in with our police contact, I was told that we were no longer needed to answer any questions. The detective I spoke to was unavailable and had a family emergency to see to.”
Priscilla opened and closed her mouth before her brain caught up. Either way she turned this situation, it wasn’t good. “Is someone covering up my kidnapping? Or is someone covering up the fact that DDM was selling expired medication?”
“I don’t know,” Melody said.
“Ladies?” The man who’d opened her door approached them. “Whatever you’re talking about, can you please do it on the plane?”
“Yes, of course.” Melody turned toward the jet.
Priscilla didn’t move. “Because we’re leaving or you think we’re in danger?”
“Just being cautious, ma’am.” His stony stare didn’t give anything away.
Priscilla wished she could read him at all. Since she couldn’t and his request was reasonable, she turned and strode toward the jet, her mind still trying to wrap around what the hell had happened since she was rescued.
A fire at the warehouse would mean all the product she’d seen was gone. The idea that a few criminals had torched the place just after her discovery to cover their tracks seemed too coincidental. Too suspect. Whoever had routed the medication there was more than likely pocketing a huge profit over the sale of old drugs. And money perverted people’s sense of right and wrong.
She reached the bottom of the stairs and gripped the railing. The skin between her shoulder blades prickled, as though someone were watching her.
Priscilla glanced over her shoulder, her mind preparing her for some scary, masked figure with a gun. Instead, she locked eyes with Brenden, poised with a bottle of water in hand about to take a drink.
Because she didn’t have enough to think about.
She hauled herself up the stairs and into the jet, her mind reeling from the possibilities.
If she hadn’t absconded with the boxes she had, then there would be no proof. She didn’t know that for certain, but her gut believed it.
“Melody?” Priscilla stopped and turned, blocking the aisle.
The petite woman set her purse and laptop down at the four seater table near the front of the plane. The gruff man followed closely behind her.
“Where exactly are the boxes?” Priscilla asked.
“The flight staff stowed them in the captain’s closet.” Melody turned and nearly walked into the team leader. “Grant.”
“Thanks.” Priscilla didn’t wait to hear more. She knew where the closet was and intended to check it out for herself before they took off.
She set her things down in the seat on her right then slid past Melody and Grant speaking in hushed tones. The flight staff were familiar faces. Priscilla wasn’t on a first name basis with them, but she also had no hesitation requesting to ensure her boxes were on board. After being assured it was one of the safest places on the plane, Priscilla agreed to take her seat for their immediate departure.
While she’d been in the front of the plane, the rest of the Aegis team had boarded.
Melody and Grant sat at the table along with the other man with sandy brown hair. Vaughn and a blond man sat across the aisle from the other three.
And Brenden was two rows behind them, alone and directly across from where Priscilla had set her things down.
The idea of having Brenden there amidst all the uncertainty was more comforting than Priscilla wanted to admit.
Did he know? What did he think of the new developments?
She took her seat, choosing the one nearest the aisle and Brenden.
“Sleep well?” His voice was the same as before, deep and rough, only now it was the sound of safety. He didn’t look at her. In fact, with his eyes shut he appeared to be on the verge of sleep himself.
“Not really.” She turned her head.
He opened his eyes and looked at her. “I find I sleep very well on planes.”
Priscilla chewed her lip. Was she being a conspiracy theorist?
“What’s wrong?” Brenden asked.
She got up, tucked the paper under her arm, and gestured to the window seat on his other side. “May I?”
He stood by way of an answer, allowing her to take the seat next to him. She spread the paper out over her knees and gestured at it.
“Did you know the warehouse burned down? Melody said the cops aren’t looking into the kidnapping.”
“I saw the news.” He grimaced and buckled his seatbelt.
“You don’t think it’s a coincidence either, do you?” She didn’t want to be alone in this.
“I could see one or the other, but not both,” he said slowly, eyeing the headline.
“Why?”
He leaned his elbow on the arm rest between them. “A group as well-organized as the one who took you has connections on the force. People they can pay off. I could see them shelling out to close the case.”
“I guess that makes sense.” But it did nothing for the tension currently churning her gut.
She tapped a line three-quarters of the way through the article. “The timing of the fire doesn’t. We left the facility around ten fifteen. According to the morning’s news the building burned down closer to five. That’s a lot of hours.”
“You don’t think the dirty cop could have torched the scene then taken off?” It sounded crazy to her, but she needed to see it from all angles.
“Maybe?” Brenden shrugged. “I’m no detective. My job is getting you home safe.”
“What if they don’t believe me? What if those boxes aren’t enough? What if...?” She twisted to face him.
Brenden would be gone when it came time for her to discover these answers. He was right, his job was nearly over. The rest of this was on her shoulders.
“Talk me through it,” he said.
“Through what?”
“What if you take the boxes to them and they don’t believe you? What if they do?”
“I guess there will be an internal investigation. I don’t quite know how everything works on the manufacturing side. But, there has to be a paper trail, right?” She sucked down a deep breath.
“Are you going to be the person doing the investigating?”
“No. I guess not. But, it matters to me what happens.”
“I’m guessing if this got out it would be really bad for your company. I can’t see them not wanting to get to the bottom of things.”
“You’re right.” She eased back into the seat. That thought hadn’t occurred to her yet. She wasn’t firing all cylinders.
Priscilla wasn’t blind to the problems inherent in the pharmaceutical industry. What she did was about making the world a little better.
Maybe she’d think clearer after a nap.
The captain came over the intercom, giving them the regular pre-flight spiel. Priscilla lowered the sunshade and closed her eyes, trying to think calming thoughts as the jet lifted up and into the sky.
“Did Melody talk to you about tonight?” Brenden asked.
“Hm? No.” She tipped her chin up and looked at him.
“Since we’ll be traveling the whole day, I think the plan is to get accommodations for all of us, including you, in Chicago for tonight. Then tomorrow we escort you to work.”
“Oh.” Her shoulders relaxed.
Priscilla had figured she’d call in a favor from a friend of a friend since she had no cash on hand and her wallet was gone. The idea of another night under the watchful eyes of her personal protector was a relief.
Maybe she’d get to eat the whole candy bar?
“Hey?” She reached over and touched his wrist, lowering her voice to a whisper.
“Hm?”
“I’m sorry—I mean, last night—I just—”
His face remained as impassive as ever. “You don’t have to say anything.”
“I panicked at the end and just shut the door in your face. That wasn’t cool. I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine,” he said after a few beats of silence.
“I don’t think it is.” She eased back in her seat, finally feeling some of those knots untangling. “You’ve put up with my neurotic hounding, fed me dinner, rubbed my feet...”
Why wasn’t she asking him to marry her now?
“A lot happened yesterday,” he said.
“You’re cutting me too much slack.”
“We’ll agree to disagree.”
She glared at him. It was that or smile. “Anyone ever tell you that you’re frustrating?”
“My sisters used to all the time.”
“Sisters?” She perked up at the sound of that.
Priscilla had never really bonded with her little sister. Sure, they talked from time to time, but it wasn’t like on shows where they whispered or giggled about things. The idea of a younger Brenden with sisters amused her to no end.
“Yeah.” He didn’t elaborate.
“How many?”
“Two.”
“Younger? Older?”
“Younger.” He peered sideways at her, his brow furrowed slightly.
“You don’t like talking, do you?” That knowledge made her want to pester him with more questions. There was something appealing about getting under his skin for a change.
“I don’t usually have much to say.”
“Would you prefer if I shut up?”
“No.” His lips curled up into a grimace. “I don’t talk to my family much.”
“Everyone gets busy with life. I barely talk to mine. Sometimes I think they prefer it that way.” It was her turn to make a face at her distasteful past. “After—you know—things were hard on everyone, but I didn’t see how it was hard on them until later.”
“It’s always difficult to see that sort of stuff when you’re going through it.”
“Isn’t that the truth?” she muttered.
Back then, Priscilla had been trying to make sense of it all. She hungered for safety, and yet it eluded her all the time. The only time she felt in control was during her taekwondo classes. For a while she’d even blamed her parents for what happened to her.
Dangerously Broken (Aegis Group Lepta Team Book 4) Page 9