The Deadly Series Boxed Set

by Jaycee Clark

  “Just what we need, a cardiac arrest. I’ll tell him to do what he thinks is best. You give Aiden and Jess a call, they’ll want to know.” Brayden walked out the hospital doors. Gavin walked to the nearest phone.

  He got off the phone with his brother, knowing Aiden and Jess were leaving immediately for home. And they’d keep calling to find out what was going on.

  As he turned around, Dr. Ellis strode towards him, and he saw a gurney come out of the trauma room and head towards the staff elevators. “We’ve managed to stabilize her, and finally to stop the bleeding. It’s time to get her to the OR.”

  He held out his hand. “Thanks, Joseph. I—thanks.”

  The short doctor only raised his brow before he turned and jogged to catch the elevator.

  Relief slowly trickled through Gavin. Not that surgery was without its complications and risks, but it was a step up from where they had been.

  By God, he might be a doctor, for all the damn good it was doing him right now, but if he saw the woman who did this . . . he’d rip her apart with his bare hands and leave the pieces for someone else to deal with.

  Healer or no, Taylor and Ryan were his and Nina Fisher had dared to harm them. If it was the last thing he ever did, Gavin vowed he’d find Nina Fisher and make her pay.

  • • •

  Aiden hung up the phone, striding to their bedroom and grabbing a small bag. They could leave the rest and take only what they needed.

  “What’s going on?” Jessie asked.

  He held up a finger and dialed the Gunnison airport, arranging for the jet to be ready in half an hour.

  “What, Aiden? What’s happened?” She held one of the twins on her shoulder, concern clear in her eyes.

  “Taylor’s been shot and the kids have been kidnapped.” Aiden raked their toiletries into an overnight. “Pack only what we need. We’re leaving in fifteen minutes.”

  “Oh, my God. Aiden.”

  Just for a moment, he pulled her close, breathed in her light airy scent that mixed with the powder and milk of his infant son. Thank God his family was safe. But his brothers. The kids.

  “Kids?” she asked, pulling away from him.

  “Yeah, both Ryan and Tori. We’re going home.” He patted her back and she pulled away.

  “Of course. I’ll go tell Anna and we’ll get the boys’ things together.” She stopped at the door. “Are you going to call him?”

  He didn’t need to ask who him was. No one in the family talked to their other brother, Ian, but Aiden. Then again, no one knew he talked to the elusive black sheep of the family. No one, but Jessie. Nodding, he got the phone back out and dialed a sequence of numbers he’d received on a postcard a couple of weeks ago. He said what he always did then hung up.

  They were walking out the door and piling into the leased SUV when his phone rang.

  “All right, I’m secure but time’s short. What’s up?” his brother’s gravelly voice said.

  “We’ve got a hell of a problem,” he answered, filling in the information. Finally he said, “I don’t know if you can help, but I knew you’d want to know.”

  “Who the hell is it again?”

  “Fisher, we think. Nina Fisher. Look, the boys are going to be going out of their minds. Do you want me to mention this—mention you—to them?”

  A long pause answered him. Aiden knew the dynamics of the knowledge he held. He, and only he, knew of Ian keeping in touch with the family. Aiden also knew that whatever his brother was into was not the average job. He didn’t ask, but had his suspicions.

  “Let me think on it. Is this the phone you’ll be on? Where are you now?”

  “Colorado, but I’m about to get on the jet and head home.” Doors shut and still he waited for his brother’s reply.

  “Keep your phone charged. I’ll call you.”

  And that was that.

  In no time, Aiden and his crew were flying home. Who in the hell would risk taking one of theirs?

  • • •

  “What in the hell is going on?” Jock asked again. They were speeding towards town. Kaitie sat in the backseat. Quinlan whizzed them in and out of traffic. Jock grabbed the handle above the door. “You trying to kill us?”

  “No.”

  “Then answer the damn question. What the hell’s happened?” Jock wanted answers.

  His son sighed, checked his mirror before swerving over into the other lane, passing yet another car. Quinlan’s fingers drummed on the steering wheel.

  Jock wondered if his child thought he was stupid. First off, the boy never did a blessed thing but work. When they’d seen him at the clubhouse they knew something was up. He’d only told them to come on, they had to get to town now, and they’d left without a question. But they’d questioned the hell out of him since then, little damn good it did.

  “Quinlan, darling, your father and I are worried. It would be better if you just told us,” Kaitie said gently from the backseat.

  Quinlan’s gaze flicked to the mirror. “Do you have his nitro pills?”

  That did it. “I am a grown man, I think . . .”

  “Jock.” Kaitie had a voice you didn’t argue with.

  Fine.

  “Quinlan, tell us now. The not knowing is worse.” Her hand reached out and grabbed his. Jock gave it a squeeze.

  Quinlan licked his lips. “There was . . . someone . . .”

  “Just spit it out, damn it.” The boy would send his blood pressure soaring just by stuttering around.

  “Taylor’s in the hospital, and the boys wanted me to bring you to the hospital so you wouldn’t worry.”

  “What’s wrong with her?”

  A pause. “I’m not exactly sure.”

  “Quinlan,” Kaitie said from the backseat.

  His son sighed again. Apparently he recognized the voice too. “Brayden said she’d been shot.”

  “Shot? Oh my. Oh no.” Kaitie’s hand squeezed his.

  “Is she okay?” Jock asked.

  Quinlan’s lips compressed.

  “Is she okay?” he asked again.

  “I don’t know,” Quinlan admitted. “Honest. All I know is that she was shot and they were working on her.”

  Why? “Who on earth would shoot that woman?” Even as he asked it, he knew.

  “We’ve got to get there. Poor Gavin, and little Ryan. That child will be utterly distraught,” Kaitie mumbled.

  Since Jock was watching his youngest son, he saw the narrow of the eyes, the tightening of his son’s grip on the wheel until his knuckles were white.

  “Quinlan? What else?” he asked.

  They stopped at a red light and Quinlan turned from it to look at him. The green of his eyes, so like his mother’s, was furious and worried. He cleared his throat. “I might as well tell you. Now. So you’ll know when we get there.” He took a deep breath, checked the light. “Whoever shot Taylor took the kids.”

  “Oh, my God,” Kaitie’s hand vised on his.

  “Kids?” he asked.

  “Ryan and Tori.”

  “No. No,” Kaitie said.

  Jock turned in his seat, grabbed her other fist. The bastards, whoever the hell they were, would pay.

  He didn’t come this far in life, to create the family they had, to build the empire he had to see some two-bit whore bring it all down.

  “Kaitie.” Her glistening eyes rose to his. Tears trickled down her pale, freckled cheeks. “Kaitlyn lass, we’ll find them. We’ll find them, I promise you.”

  And when they did . . .

  Damn it, there was the damn tightness. Fumbling, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the little pill bottle. Kaitie still had hold of one of his hands, but he didn’t care. Laying one powdery white pill under his tongue, he cursed his age and health, and cursed whoever was stupid enough to steal his grandkids.

  • • •

  Gavin paced the waiting room. He’d changed out of his bloody clothes and wore scrubs. Everyone was there except Aiden and Jesslyn. They were waiti
ng on Taylor to get out of surgery. He stopped again and looked at the clock. Four hours. It had been four damn hours and not a word. Not a single word.

  At least the waiting room was empty except for his family.

  Gavin rubbed his hands over his face and tried not to think what the time meant, what was happening with the kids, what could still go wrong . . .

  “Honey, come sit down,” his mother said, handing him a cup of water.

  “I don’t want to sit, Mom. I can’t sit.” He took a sip of water and set the cup aside, pacing again.

  Whispers and quiet voices drifted around him. All he could think about was the look in Nina’s eyes. How she hadn’t thought twice about using Ryan, threatening Ryan, and some part of him knew she could easily kill his son. Just as easily as she’d shot Taylor.

  God.

  The door squeaked open.

  Gavin whirled.

  Joseph stood there, in bloody scrubs, looking exhausted.

  The silence was so loud, it breathed.

  “Joseph?”

  The doctor ran his hand over his face. “Gavin, let’s sit down.”

  “Oh, Jesus.”

  Someone helped him into a chair.

  Joseph sat in the one next to him and faced him.

  Gavin couldn’t take his eyes from Joseph’s hazel ones. “She’s still alive, but barely.”

  All Gavin heard was she was alive. Alive. “Thank God.”

  Joseph sighed again. “Gavin, I’m not certain if she’ll make it through the night, it’s going to be touch and go.”

  She was going to live. She was too much of a fighter.

  His mother rubbed his shoulder. “Taylor will make it, Doctor. I don’t doubt it.”

  Wrinkles creased around Joseph’s eyes. He licked his lips.

  There was something else.

  “Something happened in the surgery. What?” Gavin asked.

  Joseph opened his mouth, closed it, then looked away. Finally, he said, “We lost her twice, got her back. You’re right in the fact she’s a fighter. But her body can only sustain so much shock. With the shooting, blood loss, surgery and . . .” His voice trailed off.

  “And?” Gavin asked, his gut tightening.

  Joseph put his hand on Gavin’s arm. “She was pregnant. I’m sorry.”

  Was. She was pregnant. A baby. His baby. Their baby. God. Gavin’s eyes slid closed.

  Sickness rose up in him. He nodded.

  “There was nothing we could do.”

  Again Gavin nodded.

  “I’m sorry,” Joseph added, standing.

  “When—” Gavin cleared his throat. “When can I see her?” He took a deep breath. All that mattered right now was her and finding the kids.

  “We’re getting her set up in SICU. You can see her as soon as she’s settled.”

  Gavin stood. “Thanks, Joseph.”

  With that the man walked out of the room.

  Gavin stared at the closed door. His wife, his son, his niece, his baby. He couldn’t breathe. Tears pricked the backs of his eyes and he swallowed.

  “Sit down,” Brayden said, taking his arm.

  Gavin sat, buried his face in his hands.

  Someone sat beside him.

  “It’ll be okay, honey,” his mother said, rubbing his back. “It’s all going to be okay.” Her voice wavered on the end.

  Tears leaked, fell into his hands. Looking at his mother, he said, “My kids, she’s taken my kids from me, and Taylor . . . How can . . . What am . . .” He swallowed, felt the trickle down his cheek. “Taylor wanted a baby, Mom. She really, really wanted a baby.” And now she was fighting for her life. And he had to find their son.

  “I know. I know she did.” His mother pulled him to her, wrapped her arms around him.

  Gavin squeezed the tears back and hugged his mother.

  • • •

  Taylor was on a respirator and had so damned many tubes and wires hooked to her, Gavin had to take a break. He couldn’t stand to see her like that. Not Taylor, not his wife.

  So now, he was here, pacing with his family and the cops. For the first time in his life, he was glad, truly happy he lived so close to those he loved. Maybe living outside the city, closer to home, wasn’t such a damn bad idea after all. Right now he’d give his life for simple Little League, Taylor cooking supper and the idea of his parents popping over whenever the hell they wanted.

  Wish in one hand . . .

  “Mr. Kinncaid,” said Lieutenant Morris, pulling his attention back. “I think it would be better if someone were at the command post. Since Ms. Fisher knew your phone number, and obviously your address, then she’ll more than likely call that residence.”

  The man was right, but Gavin couldn’t leave Taylor here and be there at the same time. He didn’t know what the hell to do.

  “We’ll go to the house,” Brayden said, his hand on Christian’s shoulder.

  “We’ll go with you,” his mom added.

  “I’ll take the hotel,” Quinlan offered.

  It was soon decided where everyone would be. Jess and Quinlan at the hotel, just in case someone called there, while Aiden stayed at the hospital. Brayden and his parents were going to the house. Where apparently the mobile crime team had finished. Thank God.

  “We’ve printed the house,” Morris said.

  “Why?” Gavin asked, stopping his trek across the room. “I saw Nina Fisher. She was screaming about Ryan being hers.”

  “We want to see who else was with her. I want every i dotted and t crossed,” Morris answered.

  All anyone seemed to know was a white minivan had been parked in front of his house and a boy, a man, a girl and a woman all climbed in the back. Several neighbors had come out when the alarm went off.

  Gavin rubbed his face, the stubble on his jaw scraping his hands. He called and made arrangements for someone to cover his patients. Everyone knew what had happened and all were more than willing to help. God, he’d—they’d all—answered so many questions he could hardly think.

  Gavin tried not to guess how many white minivans there were in the metropolitan area alone. God, why hadn’t they heard anything yet?

  Everyone started to file out of the waiting room, but Aiden called Brayden back and shut the door.

  The three of them stood alone near windows looking out over the street. Gavin saw Aiden’s reflection check around the waiting room. What was he up to?

  When it was empty, Aiden said, “I need to ask you both something.” He leaned back against the window, facing the room, Gavin on one side and Bray on the other.

  In a low voice Aiden asked, “How far are you willing to go to get the kids back?”

  “You need to ask?” Brayden whispered furiously.

  “What exactly are you asking?” Gavin wanted to know.

  Aiden pursed his lips and said, “I think I might know someone who could help. Someone who has ways of finding things out.”

  “Who?” Brayden asked.

  The corner of Aiden’s mouth lifted. “He won’t let me say just yet. But if you’re interested, meet back here at three.”

  “Tomorrow?” Gavin asked. By tomorrow he wanted Ryan and Tori home. By tomorrow he wanted Taylor awake and well. Why tomorrow?

  “No. Three a.m.” Aiden checked his watch. “In about five hours.”

  Brayden shook his head and walked away, saying over his shoulder, “Whatever. Why the hell in the middle of the damn night?"

  Aiden shrugged. “Have no idea. Maybe his flight won’t get him here until then.”

  “I’ll see.” And Brayden was gone.

  Silence settled in the room around them. Gavin walked to the door and looked down the hall to see the armed guard stationed outside one of the SICU desks. The other right outside Taylor’s door.

  Walking back into the waiting room, he looked at Aiden still leaning against the wall.

  The irony of it struck him. A year ago their roles were reversed. He’d had no idea what his brother had been going t
hrough. Not really. Not then. But now?

  “How in the hell did you not want to deck me last year in Colorado?”

  Aiden flashed a smile. “Who said I didn’t want to?” Then the humor faded. “That was the worst time of my life. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. Not anyone.” Aiden pushed off from the wall and wrapped Gavin in a tight hug. “I can’t promise it’s going to be okay, but we’re all going to do the best we can. And we’re all here for you.”

  Gavin could only nod. “I failed them, Aiden.”

  His brother pulled back and shoved him into the chair behind him. “Let me guess. The whole motto thing?”

  “It’s not funny, it’s our family creed, yeah. But that’s not it. They’re mine. I’m supposed to keep them safe.”

  Aiden held up a hand. “I never said it was funny, believe me.” He plopped into the chair next to Gavin’s, huffing out a sigh. “I’ll tell you what Dad told me then. It’s not your fault.” Giving his best—and all too close in Gavin’s opinion—imitation of their father’s voice, Aiden continued, “I didn’t raise stupid sons. So, be there for Taylor. That’s what’s important now.”

  Gavin gave a small smile. Empty words. “Bet I wasn’t the only one you wanted to deck then, huh?”

  Aiden only grinned in return. “Go, sit and hold her hand. It helps.”

  Yeah, it did. And it was past time to get back to her. “I not only failed to keep her and Ryan safe, but the baby. I can’t help her, Aiden. I’ve never felt this . . .”

  “Useless? Incompetent? Better yet, impotent.”

  “Bite your tongue.”

  “If you need someone to beat up on you instead of yourself, you’ll know where to find me. I’ll be right here. Now go.” Aiden settled back in his chair.

  Gavin slapped Aiden’s back and walked down the hallway to his wife’s room. What the hell was happening with the kids? Were they okay? Were they hurt, hungry, scared? What if Nina had already shot them and just left them in some damn alley to bleed to death like she’d left Taylor on the floor.

  Or what if she just locked them somewhere, in a closet or something and . . .

  Gavin stopped in the middle of the hallway and planted his hands on his hips. Stop. He had to stop it! This was the road to utter madness. The fear was like a snake pit, just waiting to strike and devour. Barely nodding to the security guards, he shoved open the door and strode into her room. An ICU nurse was checking vitals.