Bedroom doors banged open. The rest of the team was on high alert.
“What’s your call?” A thread of strain laced through Riley’s voice.
“What the—Brenden?” Priscilla’s flustered voice echoed down the hall at him.
These people wanted to end her life. His vision narrowed to the shadows of people around the door.
He tuned the commotion inside the house out. Riley slapped three flash grenades on the cabinet moments before something hard impacted the front door.
This was it.
And he’d just put a vest on Priscilla.
His body went cold at the thought of her without any form of protection.
The front door popped off the hinges, flying back and sliding across the floor.
Brenden squeezed one trigger then the other. It didn’t matter if he was accurate. At this close range it was about deterring the attack, making them too much of a risk, the danger too high.
Riley tossed the first grenade through the door.
The first two men through the door backpedaled.
One slid and landed on his back.
The other man screamed, clutching his leg and collapsed into a heap.
Brenden shut his eyes and ducked not a moment too soon. The flash grenade went off, the burst of light and smoke bringing new cries of alarm.
“Two down,” Riley called out.
Grant yelled something Brenden couldn’t make out, but the tone wasn’t alarmed, he wasn’t barking an order.
This was the moment to go on the offensive.
Brenden grabbed one of the remaining flash grenades, sticking it between his teeth then straightened. Guns up, he strode between the two downed men to the front door.
Two more men, boys really, lay on the grass. Their weapons were forgotten on the ground next to them as they clutched their faces.
“Shit, B.” Riley was quick to follow.
Brenden kicked one handgun then another away from the two kids.
The two-seater sports car pealed out, burning rubber in its attempt to get away.
That left two unknowns still trying to get at Priscilla.
Brenden would not allow that to happen.
“West side,” Riley barked.
Brenden pivoted and sprinted for the end of the house where Priscilla would have been were it not for the others. He had no doubt that Melody and Grant had her safely secured.
Riley and Brenden skidded to a stop at the corner. He yanked the pin out of the grenade, peered around then tossed the canister at the would-be attackers, nailing one in the back of the head. The man howled and went down on all fours.
Brenden jerked back and shut his eyes.
The boom was followed by smoke and curse words.
“Interior secure,” Nolan called out behind them.
Brenden pivoted, gun up, facing the last two threats. He wanted nothing more than to punch the lights out of one of these kids, but he knew that wouldn’t solve anything.
They’d been used, put up to this, but for what reason?
“Stay down,” he growled.
Ignoring the pleas of the idiotic kids playing gangster, he waded into the smoke.
This was a test. Someone was out there watching, seeing what their response would be like.
They had to get Priscilla to Chicago before something worse happened.
SUNDAY. ALBUQUERQUE, New Mexico.
Damian’s eyes remained locked on the house watching the unfolding drama. Four men, not a single woman.
“How long?” he asked.
“From the moment the team made their approach?” Aaron glanced at his watch. “Not even three minutes—”
“Let’s get out of here.” Damian pressed the accelerator and cranked the wheel, putting the Aegis team in his rearview mirror.
They moved fast, even when surprised. To get at the target, they’d have to either overpower the team or lay a trap. The kind of manpower and the skill of the operatives was out of Damian’s reach. He just couldn’t assemble the caliber of people they needed in a day’s notice.
He hated to admit this, but they were going to have to work closely with Arturo on this. If he wanted to pull this off and get away clear, it would mean running a perfect op. And for that to happen it meant everyone working together.
Aaron glanced at his phone. “I still haven’t heard from—”
“It doesn’t matter,” Damian snapped.
Their only other living team mate had disappeared during the night. Damian didn’t blame the guy. This didn’t look good, and in all honesty Damian expected everyone else to die. The odds weren’t in their favor.
SUNDAY. ALBUQUERQUE, New Mexico.
Priscilla’s temples throbbed, creating a full body ache thanks to the adrenaline pumping through her. She crouched in the relative shelter of the pantry, Melody kneeling in front of her, holding a gun. The only light came from under the door, but it was enough.
The shooting had stopped.
Out in the desert she’d heard the gunfire, had even seen it in the beginning, but it had always been at a distance. Far enough away it didn’t feel quite real to her.
This time she’d felt the vibrations of bullets tearing through drywall. The deafening blasts were close.
Priscilla had prepared herself to defend against one or two people. Three if she was lucky. But a small army with guns?
This was outside her realm of reality. She’d always told herself she was a badass, but today proved she was all talk when it came to the serious shit.
Melody’s hand wrapped around Priscilla’s wrist. “It’s over.”
“How do you know?” She said in a whisper.
“Clear,” a voice called out.
“We’re going to stay here until Grant tells us it is okay to move. Everything’s fine.” And yet Melody didn’t put her weapon away.
Brenden.
Priscilla grasped hold of Melody and leaned forward. The words dried on her lips. She was too scared to ask, afraid of the truth.
And this was what he did every day. The way Melody was reacting, this didn’t faze her at all.
“Brenden’s okay,” Melody said as though she could read Priscilla’s mind.
“How do you know that?”
“Earpiece.”
“He’s okay?” The surge of relief had Priscilla sitting down hard on the tile.
“He is.”
A light tap preceded the pantry door swinging open. The sudden light momentarily blinded Priscilla.
“It’s safe to come out,” Grant said.
“How many of them did we get?” Melody stood gracefully and finally holstered her weapon.
Priscilla’s limbs felt too heavy. She clambered to her feet, feeling every fiber of her body write with worry. Words were nice, but right now she wanted to see Brenden. To touch him. Hold him. Reassure herself that he was fine.
Grant stepped back and waved them out. “Two injured, six total captured.”
“How bad?” Melody stepped out of the pantry and into the kitchen.
Priscilla shuffled out, but she stopped listening to the two team leaders.
Holes marred the previously pristine white and beige walls. The TV that had been mounted on the wall lay on the floor. The armchair that had been in direct line of sight from the door had a hole torn through the fabric.
“Oh my—oh my God.” Priscilla’s fingers and toes went cold.
This was how far those behind the drug scam were willing to go to silence her. They’d already killed one innocent person and lost several of their own. How many more would die because she couldn’t do as she was told?
And what if one of the victims was Brenden? What if he paid for her stubborn insistence she do what she thought was right with his life?
A familiar set of shoulders caught her attention from the corner of her eye. She turned her head and locked gazes with Brenden standing just inside the living room. The stubble on his chin was more like a starter beard now. His clothes were
no worse for wear than they’d been when he put them on.
That was just minutes ago.
The whole thing had happened so fast.
Brenden circled the kitchen, stepping through Melody and Grant, and came straight to her. She wrapped her arms around him, needing to reassure herself that he was okay.
His chest wasn’t the same unyielding wall of muscle. A Kevlar plate protected his front, and she felt the straps of his holster and the handles of both weapons.
Brenden could have died in their cage. He could have died at the warehouse or during the car chase. The plane crash or the ambush squad could have killed him. And he could have died today.
How many times did he cheat death? How close had she come to losing him? How much longer would she have to love him?
SUNDAY. ARTURO LOBO’S Home, Juárez, Mexico.
Arturo hadn’t been home five minutes and his day was going to hell.
Work email on the weekend was never ideal, but an email requesting his presence in a virtual conference call tomorrow was bad news.
How had they connected him to this?
The immediate gut instinct was to grab his suitcase and go. Get out of here. Take his money and head into the sunset. Start the rest of his life using the pile of money he’d amassed in the years since his father’s death and don’t look back.
Except Arturo wasn’t done yet. And he didn’t want to leave the company he’d labored over to people in another country who didn’t give two shits about it.
He sucked down a deep breath and walked over to the window that gave him a view of the courtyard he shared with the other two occupants of the condos in this block. The view of the Virgin Mary in the middle of the cultivated area had become something of a touchstone. Whenever he looked at it he found an inner peace. He wasn’t a religious man, but he liked that statue.
Think. Be reasonable.
How would they have connected the dots to Arturo?
He didn’t use his accounts or terminals to send the orders on. He was careful. The only way this should connect back to him was if his partner talked. And if that happened they wouldn’t be sending a meeting request. No, there would be men with guns at his door to arrest him.
What was this about then?
Think.
The warehouse was connected to DDM. While he was no longer head of the company, he was one of a handful of people who’d been here over fifteen years. It stood to reason that his knowledge of the company and what their weaknesses were was the best. This could be nothing more than an attempt to gather information.
That was far more logical than a conference call to accuse him of something bigger.
His burner phone rang, and he reached for it.
A glance at the number and it was all he could do to not groan.
“Yes?” He managed to keep his annoyance out of his voice.
“What happened? What’s going on?” His partner was falling apart. If there was a weak link, it was him.
“Calm down—”
“I will not,” he snapped. A beat of silence. “Something happened in New Mexico. She’s on a flight to Chicago right now.”
That couldn’t be true. Arturo knew thanks to Damian that their target was still in the safe house. But that didn’t mean that plans weren’t in motion to move her tonight. That was valuable intel.
“It’s in hand,” Arturo said.
“It is not.”
“It is.” Though not for Arturo’s partner. “I’ll see you tomorrow. I’m coming to you, but don’t share that. We’re going to end this and tie it up with a bow.”
“Are you sure we shouldn’t just cut our losses?”
“I have things I still want to do in life. I’m not ready to be done.”
He spent another few moments calming the man before hanging up.
This business arrangement had outlived its usefulness. It was time to move on, but to do so Arturo needed all the loose ends snipped. Including this woman and his partner.
Arturo changed burners and called Damian again.
“What?” the man snapped.
“She’s going to be headed to Chicago soon. Today, in fact. Your little test has worked and they’re on the move.”
Damian made a frustrated sound. “If it’s soon, I won’t have time to get in place.”
“Don’t. Meet me in Chicago. I have people there and a plan for how to get us out of this.”
“I’m listening...”
“I’ll meet you in Chicago.”
What Arturo had to say he wanted to say it in person.
16.
SUNDAY. SAFE HOUSE, Chicago, Illinois.
Brenden stared out of the windows of the high-rise apartment. Seeing as the main Aegis headquarters was a ways out of the city, the company owned several properties here. Including this upscale apartment used as both a safe house and guest space for clients. He’d been here more times than he could count.
A lot more times than he’d visited his family that was for sure.
It was a thought that hadn’t bothered him until today.
Before moving to Seattle Brenden had made a token effort. He’d show up when he had to, but once he’d relocated from Chicago, he hadn’t seen a reason to come back. The distance had always been a good thing.
Warmth radiated against his back and he knew without looking that Priscilla was there.
His gaze focused on the bit of movement reflected back at him, watching her figure then her features emerge in the glass.
“Settle in okay?” he asked.
“Yeah. Man, this is some view, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.”
“I haven’t been to the main offices many times. This city is something else.”
It occurred to Brenden in that moment that he’d never confided a crucial detail about his past.
“I grew up here,” he said.
“What?” Priscilla turned, looking up at him.
“Aegis Group’s main location’s outside the city. They have a small, swanky office here that they schmooze clients out of, but our training facility and all that’s here, too.”
“I’m still processing that your family’s here. You don’t see them, do you?”
He shrugged.
“Why don’t you see them?” she asked, her voice gone soft.
Brenden blew out a breath. “I’m not the same person they remember.”
“They could like who you are now, ya know?”
“I don’t trust myself around them.”
“Why not? It sounded like you loved your family and liked being around them.”
How did he put it into words?
“I’m not the same person I used to be.” And what if his family didn’t like who he was today?
Priscilla was quiet. She had to get what he was saying. She’d said so herself that she didn’t have as close a relationship with her family. It was one of those shared things. What they’d been through had changed them. Not everyone could understand the differences it made in them.
“Can I change the topic?” she asked softly.
“Sure.” He’d welcome any other subject.
“This is maybe out of left field, but I figure if I don’t say something now time’s going to get away from us.” She took a breath and turned her head, looking at him. “After all this is done, I’d like to do that dinner. Proper like. An actual date.”
Brenden blinked at her reflection.
A date, outside the bounds of work?
He turned his head and met her gaze.
In a moment he saw their future play out before his eyes. Their connection, what they had, it would be good for a time. There’d be dinner. Dates. Weekends and weeks when they could be together. But would he ever be enough? Could he?
“I guess what I’m saying is that I like you and—”
“I’m not sure it’s a good idea,” he said before she could get the rest of her words out.
It was a statement born of the rising urge to flee before he
fucked up and left more destruction in his path. He hurt people by being himself. His family were the worst victims of his carnage. Priscilla would join them in time, because Brenden was broken.
She blinked at him, clearly taken aback by his answer.
This, the thing they’d been doing, it had to end now.
“This was never going to work out in the long run. We both know it.” Didn’t she see?
Priscilla glared at him and drew herself up. “Why not?”
“Because... People like us don’t get to be happy.”
“People like us?” She repeated the words slowly, heat flavoring each one.
Maybe not the best thing to say, but she had to understand. They were the same.
“You know what I mean,” he said.
She crossed her arms over her chest. “No, I don’t.”
He opened and closed his mouth. “This isn’t going to end well.”
“So you’d rather just not take a chance? Is that it?”
To save himself having to hurt her?
In a heartbeat.
Because he knew deep down, he wasn’t the kind of guy who could make a woman truly happy. He didn’t know how to be happy himself. What hope did he have of doing it for someone else?
“Fuck you. You don’t get to tell me I don’t deserve to be happy.” Priscilla turned and stalked away from him. “And get your shit out of my room before I come back.”
MONDAY. SAFE HOUSE, Chicago, Illinois.
Priscilla slicked on a little gloss then stood back, giving her reflection a once over.
She hadn’t slept. Not even a little dozing. She’d been too angry. Then because her body was still recovering from the crash she couldn’t go to the gym like she wanted. Midnight yoga then a bath was about as much as she could handle, and even that brought up memories.
Baths would forever be ruined for her. She just couldn’t sit there and not remember that huge soaker tub and Brenden holding her limp body.
Fuck him.
She’d thought they were similar. That they were both creating new lives. She’d been wrong.
He was happy living in his rut, alienated from family, stuck in a bog, living the same thing day after day.
Priscilla wanted more.
Dangerously Broken (Aegis Group Lepta Team Book 4) Page 18