by S. M. Soto
“Alright, Soph. Anything else you need before you turn in?”
I can’t help but roll my eyes. “Garrett, it’s only eight o’clock.”
“I know that, but I just figured you’d be tired. Rest is good right now, you’re still not a hundred percent healthy yet—”
“I don’t need to sleep, Gar. What I need is answers.” I snap back in exasperation. “You’ve kept me in the dark long enough, now, I need to know what the hell is going on.”
With a surprised expression on his face, Garrett nods his head slowly, and swallows thickly.
“All right, we’ll talk then.”
We both sit on the edge of my bed in silence. I turn to him with an expectant look on my face, waiting for him to start talking.
“So?” I prod in an anxious tone.
“Jesus Christ, Soph. Just give me a minute to gather my thoughts, will ya?”
“What’s there to gather, Garrett? Just talk to me.”
“It’s not that simple. There’s so much you don’t know…so much you don’t understand.”
“Then explain it,” I emphasize. “Why are we here, Garrett? And what the hell is this place?”
“I’ve already told you this, Sophia. You probably just don’t remember.”
My temper rises at his placating tone, and I slam my fist down onto the comforter of the mattress. “Goddamn it, Garrett. Don’t. Don’t do that,” I warn through narrowed eyes. “Don’t make me feel like some invalid. You gave me some half-assed explanation before, and now? I want the real one.”
His eyes widen at my outburst, and I continue to push him until he talks. I’ve been through hell these last nine months, I don’t need my brother to baby me, I need him to tell me the truth for once. He owes me that much. “Now, start with why the hell we’re here, and what this place is.”
Garrett clears his throat and averts his eyes before finally giving me the answers I need.
“As I’ve told you before, this is a recon grid, or a cover house. On the outside, to the people in this town, on google maps, and on paper, this place is a nursing home for the elderly. But on the inside, it houses us.”
“But there’s no elderly here, right? Creed showed me around earlier.”
Garrett’s face falls and he shakes his head.
“This building has four floors. The first floor is where all the elderly are housed, we needed to make this place look as real as possible. The bottom floor is run just like any other nursing home. Nurses, game rooms, outdoor activities—to anyone that passes by, there is nothing suspicious about this place. Mera actually spends her mornings on the first floor with the elderly, helping the rest of the nurses.”
I take a moment to process all this information. So, this isn’t a normal building, it’s a cover house with innocent old people as the cover. Jesus. This is so messed up.
“And the other floors? I’ve only seen two. What are on the other floors?”
“You only have access to two floors, the housing quarters, and the kitchen and living area. The second floor is a subsidized hospital. In case anything ever goes wrong here, we have all the equipment we need to care for someone on the second floor.”
“Have I ever been there?” I ask quietly, not really wanting to know the answer.
“Yes. When you were in a coma, that’s where you stayed, until Mera deemed it safe to move you upstairs.” Garrett blows out a sigh and scrubs a hand over his buzzed-cut head. “The top two floors are ours, as well as the basement. That’s where equipment is kept.”
“Equipment?” I ask thickly, forcing myself to swallow.
“Guns, ammo, anything we might need for an assignment will be down there on the right wing. The left wing is used as a gym, the guys train in there or just use the room to let off steam.”
“So, how do you guys decide who gets clearance for what?”
“There’s a system. We have a chain of command that we adhere to. Our handler is like…a puppeteer of sorts. He’s our liaison with Hawk—the network that decides what missions and assignments we go on. Jay was our point of command with Hawk, he handled the logistics of everything and we followed his orders until he passed away two years ago. He was the one who recruited Creed. They were as close as two paid killers could ever be, so I guess he put Creed in charge of communicating with the handler.”
“Home? A handler? What the hell is all that supposed to mean, Gar?”
He blows out a breath. “It’s code. This organization is top secret. I don’t even think it has a name. All of us just know it by Hawk Fire.”
“Okaaay. What does that have to do with this building?”
“Everything. This building is where we stay, prep for assignments, handle our business discreetly. The handler gives full clearance to one member—which is Creed, and Creed is the one who handles everyone else’s clearance. Basically, no one from the first floor can enter the third or fourth, it’s impossible, but the nurses for the elderly have clearance to use the hospital floor if necessary. Normally, the residents will be sent off to the nearest hospital, but if it’s life threatening, they’re allowed to stay in the med room, if given clearance by Creed. Everyone in our team is granted access to all floors.”
“Okay,” I blow out a sigh. “This is a lot to take in.”
Garrett chuckles, cracking a small smile and nods his head in agreement. I wiggle back against the headboard to get comfortable before I shoot off all my questions to Garrett in rapid fire.
“So, I still don’t get it. What does that make you guys? Are you a Navy Seal? CIA? FBI? What is it?”
“Neither. I guess you can call us…contractors. Or OGA.”
My brows pull down into a frown. “OGA? I’m not following.”
“OGA stands for other government agency. Do you know what special forces are? Green Beret, Delta Force, anything?”
“No.”
“Well, there’s different operations and units in the special forces. There’s even units that people have never heard of. That’s sort of like us. We’re a silent partner. We go in, do our job, and get the fuck out. We’re the monsters who take care of things nobody else wants to know about. Not many others take on operations like ours.”
My chest tightens. Holy shit. These guys are all part of an organization that literally pays to kill.
“Jesus, you guys are like the Suicide Squad,” I mumble, prompting him to smirk.
“I guess in a way we are. Units like ours are top secret, no one knows our names, where we’re from or anything. There are others like us in the special forces as well as other agencies, but we know nothing of each other. Is it making sense to you now?” He asks with a raised brow.
“I think so. I just…I don’t understand why I’m still here. Can’t I go home and see Alexis?”
My brother sighs. “Sophia, the safest place for you right now, is here with me. I am not sending you home and taking the chance of something happening to you again.”
“I get that, Garrett, I do. I’m so afraid of ending up back there with them…but I feel trapped here. Everything is boarded up in my room, you haven’t even given me the option to get some fresh air for Christ’s sakes.”
“Once everything settles, and I know you’re completely safe, things will change, but until then, this is just how it has to be Sophie.”
I blow out a frustrated breath and deflate. I watch Garrett closely, as something nags at the back of my brain.
“What aren’t you telling me Garrett?”
His eyes shoot to mine and widen. Guilt is written all over his face. I raise an inquisitive brow, silently demanding to know the truth.
“Some things…they aren’t adding up, Soph. It’s not safe until I know without a shadow of a doubt that we’re not being followed.”
“Followed?” I screech out while my heart pounds within the confines of my chest.
“Jesus fucking Christ. This is exactly why I didn’t want to talk about this with you, damnit.” He growls, growing agitated with my line of questioni
ng.
“Why would they be following us, Gar? Is it because of me?” I stare into his eyes, begging him to tell me the truth.
“I don’t know, Sophia. I honestly don’t know.”
My breath catches, and my stomach churns as the realization hits me. They’re not done with me yet.
They never will be.
Garrett pulls me into his arms and squeezes me against him. I clench my eyes shut and try to lose myself in the comfort of my brother.
“I won’t let anyone hurt you, Soph. Over my dead body will I ever let someone take you from me again. Do you understand?”
He pulls away and searches my eyes. I swallow thickly and nod my head, breathing him in.
“Okay,” I whisper, reveling in his comforting words.
“Get some sleep sis. We’ll talk again soon.”
I TOSSED AND TURNED THE entire night. Right when I would be on the cusp of sleep, something small and insignificant would jolt me awake. Whether it was the squeaking of door hinges, creaking floorboards, or the guys’ voices drifting down the hall to my room—I couldn’t block any of it out. My conversation with Garrett was fresh in my mind, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t let it go.
What else isn’t he telling me?
The first thing next morning, I’m striding next door into Garrett’s room, ready for more answers. I should be happy with the information he’s given me so far…but I’m not. I need more.
I need to understand.
I need more answers.
And most of all, I need to know we’re both safe.
“I want to finish our conversation from yesterday.” I blurt.
My brother freezes in place with his toothbrush hanging out of his mouth. Closing the folder filled with paperwork on his bed, he places it on the nightstand and gives me a look that I know all too well.
The “what the hell are you doing?” look.
“You said you thought someone was after me, that things weren’t adding up. I want to know what you mean by that.” I cross my arms over my chest in what I think is a demanding stance.
Garrett rises from the bed, blows out an exhausted sigh and turns toward his bathroom. The faucet starts running and I hear his mumbled, “I didn’t say that exactly. You’re twisting my words.”
I roll my eyes and grumble, liar, under my breath.
He pops back into the room with freshly brushed teeth, and I’m reminded I still have morning breath. Uncaring, I push forward.
“What isn’t adding up, Garrett?”
“Everything, Sophia. So much shit just doesn’t make sense,” he says scrubbing a rough hand over his head.
“Like?” I raise a brow, indicating for him to go on.
“There’s things…about mom and dad’s death that don’t add up.”
I suck in a sharp breath, adamantly shaking my head, refuting whatever theories he thinks he has.
“What do you mean? It was an accident, Garrett. A freak accident. You know that.”
His face shutters, turning to stone.
“It wasn’t. That’s just what they wanted us to think.”
“They? Why would anyone want to hurt them? They were good people, Garrett. We both know that.”
“That doesn’t mean anything in a world like ours, Sophia. Dad worked in special forces before mom was pregnant, after she had me, he decided to fulfill his remaining duties before cutting his ties to be there for his family. Not long after you were born it was like everything was falling apart. Dad was hiding something or trying to protect us from something. I don’t know what it was, but…something isn’t right, and I’ve been trying to figure it out ever since.”
I process his words, and suddenly, cold chills travel down my spine. With furrowed brows, I swallow the lump forming in my throat and shakily ask, “Do you think me being taken had something to do with it?”
Garrett shifts his gaze above my head, ignoring my stare.
“I don’t know yet. We’re on it.”
“We?”
“Me and Creed.”
I take a seat on the edge of his bed and inhale a calming breath.
There’s so much about my family I didn’t even know. It’s frustrating and heartbreaking to go most of your life thinking your parents died in a tragic accident, only for them to be taken away in a much more cruel way. By the hands of someone else. Someone premeditated the murders of our parents, and I don’t think I’ll ever understand why.
“Tell me about him.”
Garrett tosses me a strange look, “About who?”
“Creed.”
Garrett stares at me for a beat too long with an undecipherable look on his face. Heat creeps up my neck forcing me to quickly correct myself and start to ramble.
“He saved my life, I just want to know more about him. I mean, since he’s handling everything that has to do with my life, I think I should know a bit about him too, don’t you think?”
“I guess?” he says as more of a question, still eyeing me strangely. “There’s not much to tell, Sophia. Creed is…private, to say the least.”
“Okay, well, where is he from?”
“Chicago. And that’s all I know about the guy, like I said, he’s private.”
“What else can you tell me about him?”
“Creed’s a man of very few words. He’s a use your fists and not your words type of guy.”
“I see,” I mumble, thinking about the enigma that is Creed. “And what about the rest of the guys? What’s their story?”
Garrett huffs. “Well…I guess I’ll start with Kam and Ricky. They grew up together, lived on the same street, only their lives took them on separate paths. They came from different backgrounds, Ricky’s dad has his own biker crew, and Kam’s family has always been involved in the military. When Kam enlisted, Ricky joined the biker gang, and it wasn’t until years later that they ran into each other again. And Finlay is pretty simple, he was in the British Army for a while before he got a dual visa and moved here to the states. Jose, well, he’s a different story. He comes from a very…powerful family in Mexico.”
I straighten on the bed, intrigued. “What family?”
“The Guerrero’s.”
My face drains of all color. “The Guerrero’s? The same Guerrero’s that run the cartel, chop heads off, and kill families in Mexico?”
“Yup.”
I swallow thickly. “Please don’t tell me he’s related to El Ch—”
Garrett shushes me. “Don’t even say his name. And yes, Jose and he are cousins.”
“Jesus, Gar. What have you gotten yourself into? You’re not even allowed to say his name, it’s like he’s Voldemort or something.”
“Sophia…”
“And you work with this guy? His cousin was like the most wanted man in the world. He’s escaped prison in Mexico so many times, I think I’ve lost count! How the hell did this even happen?”
Garrett heaves a sigh, lifting a shoulder in a helpless shrug. “You wanted to know, Soph.”
“I know, I know,” I tell him. “What about—”
Before I can finish, there’s a loud knock on the door. It’s cracked open and Ricky, one of Garrett’s…friends, pops his bald head inside. Now that I’ve heard the basics of his story I can’t help but look at him in a different light.
“Yo, man, debriefing in five with Creed at the tower.”
The tower?
My brother nods his head, dismissing Ricky, before turning to me with a sigh. “I gotta go for a bit, but we’ll talk more later. All right?”
“Okay.” I stand, following him out of the room.
“Why don’t you head down to the kitchen. Mera usually starts dinner around this time, maybe you can help? If I remember correctly, you do love to bake.”
I roll my eyes, smiling lightly.
“Yeah, baking and cooking are two very different things, but I’ll head down. It’s better than being locked up in my room with only a T.V.,” I say jokingly, but his expression fall
s, and his feet falter.
“You’re not a prisoner here, Sophia. You know that, right?” Identical green eyes search mine, and I nod my head forcing a smile, not having the heart to tell him I do feel like a prisoner here.
“Go,” I say, ushering him to his debriefing. “I’ll see you at dinner.”
With a peck to my forehead, he heads down the hall. Blowing out a breath, I watch him disappear, and decide to head down the stairs to help Mera.
Pots and pans clang as Mera scurries around the kitchen cooking several different dishes at once. My brows raise as I watch her move. She swiftly chops vegetables, tosses them into a simmering pot before turning to a separate pan, flipping over sizzling steaks. I shake my head in wonder. Does she always cook these meals by herself?
“Need some help?”
She pauses while stirring a pot of sauce, and a smile spreads across her face. “That would be lovely, Sophia. Thank you.”
“I don’t know how you do this on your own,” I mumble as I start chopping an onion and a tomato on the cutting board. She chuckles from behind me at her position in front of the stove.
“Lots of practice. These men…they’re like my boys, so giving them decent meals made with love is what I live for.”
I turn to her with a smile that doesn’t quite reach my eyes. “That’s sweet.”
We both work together in a comfortable silence. I help her with the rest of dinner before I start on dessert. Grabbing a can of pumpkin puree and flour, I decide to make a pumpkin coffee cake loaf. I lose myself in the task at hand, enjoying the calming effect baking has always had on me. With my injuries, it’s a lot harder than I remember, but for the most part, I try to focus on following the steps in my head, that are ingrained in my memory, rather than dwell on the fact that I’m basically working with one hand.
As I’m stirring the batter, I turn to Mera, ready to ask her something that’s been stuck on my mind, but I think better of it.
“What is it, child? I feel your questions floating in the silence around us.”
I pause my stirring and turn to face her. “How do you do it?” She raises a questioning brow, waiting for me to elaborate. “I mean, how do you live like this? Don’t you feel trapped?”
