“A last name,” he whispered.
Matt blew out air. “I told you we’d pick a name when we got out of here.”
“Come on, Mattie.” Jory yanked his hands from his pockets. “You’re probably twelve or so… Don’t you want a last name we all can share?” He looked down at his feet, and his eyes stung. His brothers never cried, and neither would he. “Just in case the commander sends me away, I want to have the same name. Just so I know what it is.” His hands shook again, but this time he didn’t care. If he died, he wanted the right name on the grave cross.
“Jesus,” Matt muttered. “Listen to me, damn it. The commander is not going to send you anywhere. I promise.”
Jory looked up, and Matt’s face wavered through tears he wasn’t strong enough to get rid of. Matt was the strongest boy Jory had ever met, Nate was the best fighter, and Shane was brilliant. But they were just kids, and the commander was a grown-up. “I know, Mattie. But I really want a last name.”
Shane bit his lip. “I do, too.”
Silence ticked around the room.
Nate lifted his shooting shoulder. “Um, I kinda do, too.”
Matt looked at each one of them in turn, his eyes darkening. Finally, his shoulders relaxed, which usually meant he’d made a decision. “Fine. Does anybody have an idea for a last name?”
“Asskickers?” Shane asked, hope in his voice.
Nate laughed. “We need something untraceable once we escape. Something that’s us but is a lot of other people, too.”
Jory nodded. “I got an idea last week when we snuck and watched those old movies.”
Matt rolled his eyes, a real smile finally lifting his lips. “I’m not going to be Mathew Casablanca. Period.”
Nate grinned, his body visually relaxing as Matt joked with them again. “Um, no.”
“I meant that movie, Rebel without a Cause,” Jory said, holding his breath.
“Rebel?” Nate asked.
“Stark—after Jim Stark?” Matt rubbed his chin. “I think that might be too rare.”
Jory shook his head. “Dean. After James Dean. He was kinda lost like us, and I think he would’ve liked to be in our family. The Dean family.” Jory held still, trying not to hope too hard.
His brothers all remained quiet for several heartbeats.
Finally, Nate nodded. “I like it.”
“Shane Dean,” Shane murmured. “Yeah. It’s good.”
Jory sucked in air and focused on his oldest brother.
Matt studied him for a moment and then slowly smiled. “The Dean family it is.”
Chapter 1
Utah
Current Day
Jory Dean counted out push-ups rhythmically, keeping his six-foot-plus body aligned for maximum effect. He hit a hundred without breaking a sweat, which energized him further, considering muscle now covered the bones in his body. Finally. He felt like a healthy adult and not some hospital patient.
The cold cement floor scratched his hands, reminding him he was alive.
Somehow, amazingly alive.
He slowly lifted one hand to twist around his back, not losing the beat.
High heels clipped down the hallway toward his cell, so he straightened and stood. The computer vestibule fully visible outside his containment area was empty, so he couldn’t ask who was coming. It couldn’t be—
It was. Dr. Madison opened the door and came into view, her black hair in a bun and her blue eyes quizzical. A purple-yellowish bruise covered her right temple, and as she neared, a limp became evident.
“What happened to you?” Jory asked through a screened part of the security-glass wall of his container. He hadn’t seen her in the last ten weeks as he recuperated, and he’d wondered where she’d gone.
She fingered the bruise and looked up more than a foot to his face. “Your brother blew up our DC facility, and I was caught underground in an airplane hangar.”
Jory grinned and ignored the sharp pang from the mention of family. He’d kill to see his brothers again. “Which brother?”
“Nathan.” She pursed her lips in a tight, white line. “He took my daughter with him.”
Jory rocked back on his heels. “No shit? Good for Nate.” Jory’s big brother had never gotten over Audrey Madison, so it wasn’t exactly shocking that he’d returned for her. “Um, was she willing to go?” He wouldn’t put it past Nate to toss Audrey over a shoulder as the bombs detonated.
Madison sniffed. “I believe so, but maybe the pregnancy has messed with her intellect.”
Jory stilled. “Audrey is pregnant?”
“Yes. With Nate’s baby.” Madison reached for a tablet in her white doctor’s jacket. “Congratulations, as it appears the Gray family can procreate.” She smiled, revealing sharp teeth.
Warmth burst through him. Nate was going to be a father? Oh yeah. He’d make a great father… if he lived. Wow. So they did have a chance for families. Jory wanted to smile but refused to give the doctor the satisfaction of reading his emotions.
Her gaze dropped to his groin. “I wonder if we could—”
Jory fought the urge to cover his boys and instead stepped closer to the partition. “Don’t even think of it, Madison. I’ll kill you first.” He spoke low and kept eye contact.
She clucked her tongue. “It’s hard to imagine you are the good-natured brother.”
“Getting plugged in the chest several times and ending up in a coma for two years tends to piss a guy off.” He stretched his torso, trying not to go crazy in the small cell. He’d awoken three months ago, immediately striving to regain his strength. To get home to his brothers. They had to be worried beyond belief.
Dr. Madison licked her lips as she eyed his bare torso. “Your workouts and diet regimen have returned you to excellent shape in such a short time. I did a marvelous job with your genetics.”
When she looked at him like he was steak on a plate, he wanted to puke. “I’m tired of gym shorts.” He rested broad hands on his hips and glanced around the dismal cell. One cot sat in a corner, and a bare-bones bathroom took residence around a partial wall. “Get me out of here.”
“Why?” She arched one fine eyebrow. “That kill chip by your C4 vertebra will detonate in one week and you’ll die. Your best chance of survival is staying here.”
Anger roared through him, so he flattened his hands on the bullet-proof glass and leaned in. “The chip that you screwed up? Yeah. I’m not expecting a rescue there.” The bastard scientists had implanted kill chips in all the Dean brothers’ spines, and if the right code wasn’t entered in the right computer in one week, the chips would activate and sever their spines.
Of course, the damn code didn’t work for Jory.
“I do wish you’d watch your language. As a child, you were so well mannered.” Dr. Madison typed something into her tablet. “I didn’t make a mistake on the chips. When you got yourself shot, a bullet ricocheted off the chip, and it’s damaged. It’s shocking the device didn’t explode then and there.” She pursed her lips as if pondering what to have for dinner. “Just shocking.”
Jory rubbed his eyes. He was a fucking monkey in a cage, and he had to get out of there before his brain melted. So he tried reason. “Madison? I have a week to live. For once in my life, have a heart and let me go live it out.” It was the closest he’d come to asking the brilliant scientist for anything after she’d started hitting on him when he’d reached puberty.
She smoothed back her hair. “I didn’t raise you to be a quitter. Don’t worry. I have a plan.”
Great. He ran a frustrated hand through his hair, which had begun to curl at his nape. “What’s the plan?” If he was going to figure out a way to save his brothers, he had to get out of there. Anger heated up his throat, and he fought to keep calm.
Two heartbeats echoed from outside the room, so he tilted his head to hear better while trying to appear bored. Dr. Madison had no clue about his heightened senses or his extra abilities, and he needed to keep it that way. Nobody norma
l would be able to hear the heartbeats.
A soldier entered first, followed by a woman who slid out from behind him.
Jory’s breath caught in his throat. Exquisite. For once, that word could be applied accurately. She stood to about five foot six in black boots with a matching leather jacket. Mocha-colored skin, curly black hair, and eyes greener than the most private parts of Ireland.
She took one look at him and stepped back.
He stepped forward and flashed a smile that made her eyes widen. If he had to scare her to get her to leave, he’d do it. Anybody seeing him in captivity would be killed by the commander after serving their purpose. “Is she for me?” he asked, forcing himself to run his gaze over her body and surprising himself when he hardened in response. Whatever her purpose, she sure as hell didn’t belong in this dismal place. Hopefully, she’d turn on her heel and get out.
Instead, she lifted one eyebrow. “So that’s him.”
Well, damn. Another angel with the heart of a demon. A pang landed squarely in Jory’s chest. Beauty should never be evil. “Yeah, that’s me,” he murmured. “Who are you?”
She opened her mouth and shut it as Dr. Madison shook her head. “It doesn’t matter who she is.” Grasping the woman’s arm, Dr. Madison led her over to a computer console. “Get to work, and remember the rules.”
Dr. Madison glanced back toward Jory. “Leave her alone to work, and I won’t have you tranquilized again.” With that, she allowed the soldier to escort her from the room.
The woman at the console turned around. “Piper. My name is Piper.” She eyed the partition. “Who are you?”
“Jory.” He really liked the way her tight jeans hugged her curves. “Why are you here, Piper?”
She exhaled slowly and stretched out her fingers. “I’m here to save you, Jory.”
Turn the page for an excerpt from Rebecca Zanetti’s first novel in her sexy romantic suspense series,
Forgotten Sins
Available now!
Prologue
Southern Tennessee Hills
Twenty Years Ago
Shane settled against the cold block wall, engrossed in the television set across the room but forcing himself periodically to glance outside the darkened window. The second dawn hit, he and his brothers had to flee the computer center. Their current transgression was punishable by beating or confinement. Probably both.
But a night spent watching a marathon of the show featuring a family living in the city was well worth the risk and provided an insight into a world he had only dreamed about. Breaking into the private room housing the television had been almost too easy. It surprised him the soldiers taught them stealth and surveillance but didn’t expect them to use the skills.
A boom sounded in the distance—probably from a coal mine hours away. Just to double-check, he lifted his head and used his special hearing to make sure they were safe. A wolf prowled a mile or so away, and prey scattered. No humans breathed nearby. Well, none other than his three brothers while they watched the show. The eighth episode wound down to cheerful music and a happy ending.
“What’s a family?” Jory, his youngest brother, asked.
Shane forced a shrug. “I think a family is people who live together.”
“So we’re family?” Jory’s voice cracked.
Shane nodded, his shoulders straightening. “Yeah, we’re family.”
“What’s a mom?” Jory scratched his head.
“I guess it’s that lady there.” Shane pointed at the woman on the screen.
“She looks…” Matt, the oldest of them all, said thoughtfully, “soft.”
They all nodded.
“How come we don’t have moms or ladies here?” Jory asked.
Shane shrugged again. He probably didn’t deserve a mom, but Jory did. Why didn’t Jory get a mom? “Maybe soldiers don’t get moms.”
“Oh.” Jory turned back to the screen. “She looks nice.”
Yeah. The soft lady had looked nice.
Nathan jumped up. “It’s time to go—sun’s out.” As the second oldest, Nathan usually kept a close eye on Jory and Shane, while Matt spent his time training them to survive.
Shane stood and reached down to help Jory up.
He yanked back. “I want to stay.”
“Now, Jory.” Matt slid the door open a sliver to peer outside. “They’re already starting hand-to-hand.”
Jory stood and brushed off his pants. “Fine.”
“Follow me, and don’t look guilty.” Matt headed into the chilly dawn, followed by Nathan.
Shane waited until Jory was clear before shutting the door and hustling over to train with Nathan. All around them, boys engaged in mock fighting. His brother kicked him in the stomach, and he allowed the pain to disappear before punching Nate in the jaw.
The sun angled through the trees when Commander Phillips strode onto the practice area followed by two soldiers who pulled behind them a short, dirty man. Grease and debris littered the man’s long dark hair and beard. The prisoner’s hands were bound behind his back, and he furiously begged in a language Shane hadn’t learned yet. The man’s bare feet dragged in the dirt, leaving clear tracks. His blood made a swishing sound as it shot through his veins too quickly. Lung tissue crackled as his breath panted out.
Terror had a sound.
“Soldiers.” The commander called them to attention.
They quickly moved into formation. The commander was straight and sure, his hair cut in a short buzz. His eyes were a deep, dark black. Shane always tried to concentrate on something else when facing the commander, sure that getting lost in those black depths would mean death. He knew it somehow.
He and the other boys watched impassively as a soldier forced the prisoner to his knees.
“You’ve been studying anatomy and pressure points for a month now,” the commander said. “Today we concentrate on the swiftest and most economical way to break someone’s neck.”
The live demonstrations always made Shane’s head pound. Did the prisoner know he was about to die? Probably. Shane steeled his spine just in case it was his turn. Please don’t let it be his turn.
The commander paused and then called out, “Cadet Shane.”
As Shane moved forward to stand by the prisoner, Matt began to shift from his place in formation, reaching for the knife sheathed at his calf. Shane subtly shook his head. Even if Matt somehow stabbed the commander so they could run, they didn’t have anywhere to go. The commander would always find them.
Matt stood down, his entire body tense. As the oldest of the brothers, he considered it his duty to protect them somehow. Their identical gray eyes met, Matt’s hot and desperate. Shane tried to shrug, but his shoulders shook instead. His gut hurt.
Hopefully he wouldn’t lose his mind for a few days like Matt had when it had been his turn. Shane understood this was another part of his training—he was old enough to kill now.
He had just turned ten.
Chapter 1
Present Day
Josie’s heels clicked in rapid staccato against the well-worn tiles, the smell of bleach making her stomach cramp. Her mind spun. How could this be happening? It must be some sort of trick.
Someone had taped smiling pumpkins along the hospital walls to celebrate the month of October. Something about their jagged teeth against the dim walls creeped her out. Even as an adult, the sense of helplessness she’d felt as a child in the hospital caused her body to tense and brace to flee from the antiseptic smells.
Several nurses converged behind a wide counter, studying charts. Josie ignored them and hurried down the hall. She reached the last room on the left and ran smack into a uniformed police officer. Bouncing back, she struggled to balance herself in the heels she’d worn to work. The call had come in after dinner, and she was still at the office. As usual. A promotion to vice president was up for grabs, and she was going to get it.
The cop steadied her, dark eyes appraising. “You all right, ma’am?”
“Yes.” She tugged her handbag strap up her arm, needing to get a grip. She was an adult and in control now. “A Detective Malloy called me to come down. I’m Josie Dean.” Her breath hitched on her last name; she’d be changing that soon.
“He’s inside with Mr. Dean.”
“Major Dean,” she said automatically, and then her face heated. “I mean, he used to be a major. He may have been promoted.” She sounded like an idiot.
A voice over a loudspeaker announced a code blue. The officer straightened, listened, and then relaxed his shoulders as a room on the third floor was named. “You can go right in.” He tipped his head toward the open doorway before flashing a smile at a pretty nurse pushing a book cart down the hall.
Yeah. She’d go right in. Easier said than done. Josie took a deep breath, steeled herself, and walked inside, her attention instantly captured by the male figure perched against the hospital bed.
For the briefest of seconds, time stopped. Memories flooded through her mind, her body, maybe somewhere deeper until her lungs forgot their job. That quickly, she was helpless with the need to heal him. Coughing, she forced air down her throat and took a good look.
Several bandages were strapped across Shane’s muscular torso while a splotchy purple lump rose from his forehead. His long legs were encased in bloody jeans, and he’d crossed his thick boots at the ankles. He sat bare to the waist, his scarred chest and packed abs betraying a life of combat. The new wounds would fit with the rest.
Those scars broke her heart all over again.
His gray eyes lasered in on her, and she fought the urge to run. Pain, need, and familiarity swirled through her brain. Her skin warmed. Damn, he looked good. Dark brown hair swept back from his battered face, and even with the bruises, his rugged features spoke of strength and masculine beauty. Fierce and dangerous like a wolf.
His hair had grown to his shoulders and added a wild new edge to the danger.
She had a lot of layers, and he’d appealed to her on each one by providing security and fulfilling her desperate need to belong. Until he’d abandoned her. She faltered and clutched her handbag strap until the leather cut into her skin.
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