by Rae Marks
Bray nodded, because he didn’t know what else there was to say. They both knew that wasn’t one hundred percent true, since Mase knew about Bray’s major in college and probably some other information about him and Nick.
Mase laughed, but there was no humor in it. “I also had no idea about the trust that Dad couldn’t revoke. Imagine my surprise when after my twenty-fifth birthday I got a letter from the law firm who oversaw my trust. Suddenly I was a multi-millionaire.”
“That was from Grandpa Hart. It had nothing to do with Dad.”
“Yeah, well, I didn’t know about it.”
“That was Mom’s doing,” Bray said. “She wanted us to live as if we’d have to make it on our own. She never realized it might be a lifeline.”
“Looking back on it now,” Mase said after a moment of tense, awkward silence, “I realize I was punishing all of you for Dad’s actions. But if Nick’s okay, don’t expect me to trip over myself or try to sneak off to pay my last respects to a man who not only told me to go to hell but who gave me a map to get there.”
Bray nodded. He wasn’t all that surprised by that response. But it didn’t answer the real question, the one he’d come to ask.
“But Mom?”
Bray would have to ask her about the documents, but he was sure his mom would never have signed anything like that. Dad kicking Mase out was the main reason they’d split up.
“I’ll give it a chance, okay?”
Bray hadn’t realized he was holding his breath until it exploded out of his lungs in relief.
“I’ll listen to what she has to say. I’ll give her a chance to tell her side.”
“She deserves it.”
“And what about you?” Mase asked.
“Me?”
“You came all the way out here for Mom? Threw me out of the way and took a bullet for Mom?”
“I came because I finally had the time, the resources and a good excuse to find you. I don’t really have a side to tell. I heard you arguing with Dad when he threw you out, but I was angry at you. I didn’t hear the whole conversation, just the end. I heard the part where he asked you to shape up to be a good example to us. I thought he was talking about the friends you hung out with.”
“He was in a way,” Mase said. “That was part of what he was demanding I give up—anything with a whiff that I wasn’t totally straight.”
Bray’s stomach tightened as he remembered the fight he’d had with his father after he’d come out to him. Their dad had blamed Mase, like it was contagious, even though he’d been gone for years.
“Even half a world away, Mase is cursing this family.”
The words hit Bray like a slap. The puzzle pieces clicked into place as Bray realized the implications of what his father had said. That was why Mase had left? That was why he’d turned away from his family? Because of their father? It wasn’t selfishness or recklessness as Bray had believed.
He’d hated Mase for not being willing to be a little less wild so he could still hang out with his little brothers. All the time it had been their father, and for the same reason, Bray had come to their father that day, to come out.
He didn’t have the heart to tell their dad that Nick was gay as well. It wasn’t his right to out his brother, but the thought of what he would say to Nick when the time came made Bray’s gut burn with rage.
“I can’t believe you would ask Mase to do that. No wonder he left.”
“He’s ‘bisexual’,” his dad said, using air quotes, “not gay. He could have just dated women.”
“I don’t know what it’s like to be bisexual but I can imagine how it would tear my heart out for my father to ask me to cut half of myself off for…for—”
“For the good of the family,” Russ finished for him.
“Not for the good of the family but for your comfort. It tore our family apart. I blamed him but it was all you. For all you know, he could have decided to come out to you because he was in love with a guy. So then you might have been asking him to cast aside someone that he loved because it wasn’t convenient for you.”
“Not my convenience. It was for your protection.”
“From what, being open-minded? What a horrible example you’d be setting by loving your first-born son unconditionally.”
“It’s not that simple, Bray. I—”
“Oh no? Well, now you’re down by two kids. You only have one left. On all the holidays and birthdays, I hope your prejudices keep you nice and warm.”
“I did what I thought was best for this family.”
“And I bet you’d fucking do it again. I hated him for leaving. I hated Mase for choosing his stupid friends over us. If I’d known you threw him away like trash because he wasn’t straight enough for you, then believe me, I wouldn’t have come out to you at all. Now I can just say ‘fuck you’ and be done with it.”
“Brayden—”
Bray had run like the hounds of hell had been nipping at his heels. He’d tucked his tail between his legs and told his mother what had happened. She hadn’t said a word when he’d cut his father off. The only time she’d stepped in was when his relationship with Nick had crumbled. But even she hadn’t been able to mend that rift.
Bray pushed the dark thoughts back. His forgiveness for his father was tenuous at best. Dwelling on the past wouldn’t do anyone any favors. He’d allow his father to die knowing he’d made amends with at least two of his sons.
“I didn’t know,” Mase said.
Bray shook the memories away. When he looked at his brother, there was sympathy in his eyes and maybe even a little shame.
“Didn’t know what?”
“Any of this.” Mase made a big circle with his arms. “I didn’t know you were gay. I didn’t know dad did the same thing to you. I didn’t know you might need me. I thought—or at least I was worried—it was just morbid curiosity that had you reaching out.”
“Even though Dad didn’t serve me papers formally removing me from the family, we didn’t speak for almost six years. Nick and I didn’t really speak for four. It would have been nice to have had you to talk to, but my aim was never to make you feel guilty.”
“I know. I can do that all on my own.”
Bray gave a half-hearted smile.
“Listen, Bray. I have to go. I’m still…working. I don’t know when this will be over. Until it is, I can’t exactly pick up the phone and call, but when I get home—”
“I’ll be around. I gave my four years. I’m not going to re-up. I don’t know what I’ll be doing exactly, but I’ll be there, so let me know when you’re home.”
Bray couldn’t bring himself to feel too bad for their father. He was just selfish enough to be happy that Mase might step back into his life, that he couldn’t bring himself to plead their dad’s case.
“Jazz is gonna get you home safe.”
“Jazz?” Bray had heard Sam say that name as well.
“He’s our chain of command. He’s also a friend. I’ve known him almost as long as I’ve known Sam and Kota. Maybe you’ll meet Kota someday too.”
Bray nodded. He hoped to spend enough time with Mase that he’d meet all his friends, though seeing Sam again would be rough.
“Ax is here. He’ll stay until they release you. Then he’ll make sure you get safely on the plane.”
“Is Sam—?” Bray cleared his throat. “Tell Sam I’m sorry I took off this morning. Tell him I’m sorry for everything. I didn’t mean to blow this thing to hell.”
Mase walked up to the bed. He still had on his surgical cap and mask, but Bray could tell by his crinkled eyes that he was smiling. He leaned in and squeezed Bray’s good arm.
“Thanks. I can’t say I’m glad you ended up in Kiev, but since you did, I’m glad we got a chance to talk.”
“Me too,” Bray said.
“Stay safe,” Mase said, then he turned and left the room.
* * * *
When the hospital released him, Ax took Bray to a small airfield. He tr
ied to relax in the cabin of the private plane where he was the sole passenger. He even managed to doze off, since the painkillers made him tired and groggy.
When he woke up, he didn’t know where they’d landed or how long the flight had been. The thought made him anxious after what he’d just been through. He no longer had a weapon or a GPS tracking device.
The pilot came out of the cockpit and Bray stood from his seat. He was a little woozy and not sure how much fight he had in him, but he’d fight if he had to. The pilot smiled and went to open the cabin door.
Bray didn’t have any luggage, so he made it to the doorway and almost fell to his knees when he saw Nick and his mother waiting behind a chain-link fence. Both their fingers curled around the metal as they watched Bray slowly and carefully descend the stairs. Am I in California?
“Mr. Hart?”
A man stepped up to the stairs as Bray made his way down. He didn’t look military, with his long hair and beard scruff, but his countenance was military, one hundred percent.
“Yes,” Bray said as he stepped onto the tarmac.
“I’m Mitch. I’m here to escort you to your debrief.”
“But my family.”
“They can follow us. Your brother’s aware a debrief is needed, but he and your mother just wanted to see you step off the plane.”
Bray knew Mitch could have prevented them from coming. In fact, he was surprised he hadn’t. Then he remembered the name…Mitch. Was this the Mitch who was part of Mase’s chosen family?
“Did Mase allow this? My family to see me?”
“The car’s right here, Mr. Hart,” Mitch said in answer.
Bray turned to his family. His mother was giving him a brave smile, but he could see the sun’s reflection in the tears streaming down her cheeks. He held up his good arm and waved before following Mitch to the car.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Sam
He’d been home six weeks. After salvaging what he could in Kiev, Sam had gone to Thailand. Things there had been smooth as silk.
And yet he couldn’t stop thinking about those few days. He’d spent less than a week with Bray, yet here he was almost two months later, distracted and restless.
“Just call him already,” Ax said without lifting his eyes from his computer monitor.
When they were Stateside and had any free time at all, Ax had one singular focus. It was the mission that had led Ax to join their little group.
Sam had nothing but respect for what Ax was trying to do. They gave him time and resources to keep searching. They all pitched in when and how they could. Ax lived in their office building, even though HC paid him a shit-ton of money.
Each contract they got was different—some paid by hour, some by contract completion. It didn’t matter to Ax. He took any job he could and either sent the cash to his family or socked the money away.
It took Sam a minute to remember that Ax had goaded him. He flipped Ax the bird. Until very recently, Sam had been with the CIA. He’d agreed to help Wade with Hart Consulting while Mase was deep undercover, but that had sort of morphed into Wade and Sam running the company in Mase’s absence.
Sam’s position was tenuous. The CIA had allowed him to move to HC only because they utilized them as a contractor. Sam still reported to the CIA and would for at least a year or more while they worked through the current investigation he was on.
He wasn’t technically released from his position at the CIA, but they’d agreed not to give him any additional assignments. So, while he was home, he helped run Hart. While he was out of the country, he relied heavily on Wade to manage not only logistics but all aspects of HC’s operations.
Their team was growing, which was good, because they had more jobs than they could handle. That was very reason Sam was heading into DC for a meeting.
“What are you bitching about over there?” Colt asked.
“I just thought Sam might not mope around so much if he gave the guy a call.”
“What guy? Mase’s hot brother? Fuck, I’ll give him call. You got his number?”
Ax gave Sam a look. They both knew Sam had Bray’s number. He just hadn’t used it and he didn’t plan to, either. Ax’s questioning look morphed into an evil grin.
“I have his number.” Ax pulled his phone out of his pocket.
“You do it and we’ll have an in-depth discussion with the entire team about Kiev—specifically the safe house.”
Ax rolled his eyes but put his phone away.
“We already know about that,” Clay said.
All the guys in the room chuckled. Even Sam could see the humor in it now that Bray was home safe, tucked away with his family in Southern California.
“I have a meeting in DC. I’ll be out the rest of the day, but you can reach me by phone.”
Sam’s cover was still in effect while he was Stateside. He worked for Lucien Bernard. The difference was that while on US soil, he pretended that Lucien, or rather Jazz, was a real estate investor.
That was technically his cover everywhere, but when someone allowed the mafia to pay for their hotel in Ukraine, they could only pretend so much.
The building that housed HC was in Lombardy Alley in downtown Richmond, Virginia. It was surrounded by an old brick wall and the entire place was so covered in vines that no one even knew it was there. It was the perfect place for their operation.
The four-story brick relic had been updated long before Mase had bought it. The place still looked ancient on the outside, but the inside was state-of-the-art.
* * * *
As he waited in the coffee shop on 22nd Street in the nation’s capital, Sam hoped he could recruit the man he was meeting, but he wasn’t sure he had anything special to offer.
He sipped coffee from his to-go cup and watched as patrons moved in and out of the tiny shop. He’d just checked his phone again and was worried he’d been stood up when the chair across from him scraped over the floor. There was a flurry of movement as a kid in a hoodie slid into the seat and scooted it forward.
“You’re bigger in person than I thought you’d be,” he said.
“Sin?”
He looked younger than Bray, but that could have been because he dressed like a teenager. His shirt had a pixelated character on it that looked reminiscent of Minecraft. His jeans were ancient, and his shoes were the only thing keeping the hems from dragging on the floor. Sin pulled the black hood down off his head as he sat across from Sam.
“You’ve got to be younger than Bray.”
Sin looked like a typical high school student with his bedhead and hoodie. When his face was unobstructed, Sam saw a guy too masculine to be called pretty but too attractive to be called anything else.
His eyebrows were straight swipes of dark hair, the center low over his eyes but the tails higher, giving him almost a surprised or confused resting face. Sam knew he was anything but confused.
Sin’s nose was straight, but the lines were somehow sharper than most, especially at the tip. He had a strong jawline, but not as razor-sharp as Bray’s. Sam shook off the comparison.
“I’m a few years younger.”
“And you’re the one with the intel? You’re the one who linked Mase to me and that shit-hole in Florida?”
“Yep.”
“Let’s take a walk,” Sam said.
Sin stiffened.
“Just a walk so we can have some privacy while we talk. You can choose the direction.”
“Okay.” Sin nodded and stood from the table.
Sam picked up his coffee and led the way out of the shop.
“What was the link?” Sam asked as they ambled down the sidewalk.
“It took me a while to figure out that Wheeler is an alias. If I had, I would have had Bray approach you a different way. I didn’t mean to push him into a shit-storm. Your alias was linked to helping Mase get a hold of some property in Richmond, Virginia.”
Sam rubbed a hand over his face. His cover was as a real estate investor, but h
e hadn’t even bought the building. When he’d realized how secure it was, he’d thought it would be a perfect safe house.
It was basically in the middle of a parking lot, like a fortress. No one could sneak up on them, the first floor had almost no windows and it had a private underground parking garage. The building had easily been renovated to become Hart Consulting.
“I wasn’t a part of that deal and definitely not as my alias.”
“It was the only time Mase ever touched his inheritance. I followed the money. Someone mentioned your alias in an email as having something to do with the property.”
“I made up an excuse to back out of buying the property so Mase could get it. No one even knew we knew each other.”
Sin shrugged. “I ran a background check on every name associated with that deal.”
“A background check? My background was created by the government. It’s flawless.”
“That’s why it took me over a week to figure out it was fake. But by then, I’d already hacked your accounts, found some intel about Mase and given your location to Bray. Mase bought that building but hadn't actually been there in years. Yet he kept in touch with you.”
Sam felt like he was digging himself deeper and deeper. Did he want to know how thin the veneer of his cover really was?
“And you knew my location from?” Sam demanded.
“Your phone. And you own the building in Florida. Guess you’re a slumlord?”
“I’m a lot of things. I also thought my information was secure.”
“Don’t sweat it. Not many would have been able to get the information—probably less than twenty people in the world.”
“That’s a lot of people.”
“It’s statistically insignificant.”
“Not if one of those people works for someone I do business with under my alias.”