by Cara Carnes
The Masons were Resino royalty. If they earned stares when they’d entered to eat, her companion Riley had definitely turned heads when they walked in after dark to “hang.” Mary hadn’t wanted to hang. She wasn’t the type to wind down after a long day and “hang.” She usually popped a couple ibuprofen, swigged a bottled water, and started a new day. Why waste hours on frivolous things like socializing?
But the woman was doggedly persistent. She’d tossed her in a truck and headed out for Bubba’s before anyone even realized they’d left the ranch. Based on the number of times Riley’s phone rang and she clicked ignore, the guys weren’t exactly happy. Hopefully, that translated to a short “hang” time. Dylan would show up like a white knight and take her back. All she had to do was sit. Wait.
Socialize.
Oh God.
Small talk wasn’t her forte. Talk wasn’t her forte.
Fortunately, Riley didn’t require two-way communication. All she needed was an occasional nod, a smile every now and then, and a warm body across the table. Her mouth ran faster than Mary’s analysis programs, and that was saying a lot. But the subject matter was more than interesting, seeing how she was spilling anything and everything about her brothers.
“Dylan got a rap sheet at the age of ten. Can you believe that?” Riley took a sip of her beer and shook her head. Blond curls bobbed.
“The criminal mastermind of the Mason brood. Nice.” Mary laughed. “I always had a thing for bad boys.”
Heat rose in her cheeks when the woman stilled and a twinkle gleamed in her gaze. Crap. How many of the damned beers had she had? She eyed the heap beside them, realized her rescue was long overdue.
“Be back, I’ve gotta pee.”
“I’ll hold the fort down. Oh! We need more beer.” Riley motioned for the waitress.
Mary fled. She headed straight toward the sanctuary of a lone toilet and lockable door. She should’ve insisted on bringing some of the other girls. Riley had wanted one-on-one “bonding time.” Whatever the heck that was supposed to be.
She thought Dylan was serious about her. Mary needed to cut the cord, explain the situation so she and the rest of the Mason clan would back off him. He didn’t know what the chemistry between them meant any more than she did.
This was ridiculous. She’d led covert missions deep into heavily entrenched enemy territory, and she was cowering in the bathroom, terrified of a one-hundred-pound blonde in kick ass red boots. Pathetic. Really, really pathetic.
Why did Riley intimidate the hell out of her?
Because she was everything Mary wasn’t.
Confident. Gorgeous. A social butterfly. An important person in Dylan’s life.
This wasn’t a gauntlet. It was beers in a freaking bar. Mary washed her hands and headed back to the table. Empty. Where had she gone? She looked around. No Riley. Unease rose in her belly.
“Where did Riley go?” she shouted into the room. She was Riley Mason, emphasis on Mason. Everyone knew her. She couldn’t have just disappeared.
“Some guy came in, said Marshall sent him. There was an emergency at the ranch,” someone said. “I tried to stop them, making sure things were cool, but she said not to worry, that HERA had her back.”
“She wouldn’t have left without me,” Mary gritted through clenched teeth.
Riley was responsible, a protective Mason through and through. Mary had been her charge on this venture into town for a beer. She knew what had happened to Mary. No way would she leave her alone, which meant...
She didn’t have a choice.
Someone took her. Some guy had walked in and made her leave.
Stupid, stupid idiots. This was her fault. She shouldn’t have left Riley alone.
“Phone.” She held her hand out. When it remained empty, she repeated the order in a scream. “Phone!”
She dialed The Arsenal. “This is Edge. I need the guys at Bubba’s. Stat.”
“They’re already on their way. Dylan figured out you escaped. He’s not happy,” the man said. “Not smart, Edge. You don’t leave property without one of us.”
“Tell them to step on it. Riley’s been taken.”
“Come again,” the voice growled.
“She’s gone. Some bastard walked in and took her while I was taking a piss. And every idiot in the place let him.” She nailed everyone with a glare. “You’ve got some seriously stupid townsfolk in these parts.”
She hung up on whoever it was and tossed the phone at the guy. A lone piece of paper sat on the table, beneath the beer Riley had been inhaling.
Your girl for ours. We want Edge.
Riley should’ve fought, yelled. Done anything except walk out of a crowded bar with a kidnapper. Nausea pitched the beer in Mary’s stomach. She swallowed, fighting the urge to puke. God, if they hurt her, Dylan would never forgive Mary. This was all her fault.
“Lady, you okay? Maybe you should sit down?” The helpful man moved to touch her.
She punched out.
“Okay, okay. Easy.”
They had Riley.
And what the hell did she mean not to worry, that HERA had her back?
Oh. My. God. HERA!
Mary lunged for the man’s phone, still on the table where she’d tossed it.
“Yeah.”
“Edge. Get Quillery. And Addy. Ask them why HERA would have Riley’s back.” She sighed, relieved there was hope. When the voice hung on, she spat. “Now, asshole. Not next year, now.”
“Mary? What’s wrong? This place is chaos.” Vi’s voice on the other end of the line was the hope she needed.
“They took Riley. She mentioned something about HERA having her back. Why?”
Vi whispered on the other end. She heard Addy on the other end, something about a bracelet. Of course! The trackers. “We’re on it. Hang on, Dylan and Marshall are headed your way, should be there any second. We’ve got about fifty or so commandos going ape shit waiting for a location.”
The doors thundered open. Dylan and his brother entered in a whirlwind of rage she felt from across the room. She vaulted toward him, ignoring the tension in his body. She huddled close, the tremble more noticeable in her body now that she was near him.
“They took her,” she whispered. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
“Enough, Edge,” Marshall growled. “Focus. Riley.”
“Tracker. She had a tracker. Addy gave her, a bracelet. Riley knows we can track her. Vi’s getting coordinates.”
“Let’s move,” Dylan ordered.
Both men headed out the door. She followed, unsure what else to do. Dylan opened the back door, and she crawled in. He jumped into the front passenger’s seat. She heard the ringing through the vehicle’s speakers. Cord’s voice came through the line.
“How the hell did this shit happen? I’m gonna beat her ass when this is over. Signal’s at the old Burton place,” he said. “Right at our back door. Teams are heading through the back country to get there now. We’re close.”
Mary’s gut twisted. Close. Close was good. Right?
She felt useless, sitting in the backseat as they raced to save the sister she’d put into danger. She shouldn’t have left the ranch. She knew better. And she couldn’t even do anything to help fix it.
Anger consumed her thoughts. She didn’t get to make this about her. Riley was in trouble. Keep quiet and stay out of the way. The voice from her past thundered in her ears, tunneling her mind to another time, another place.
You’re useless, like always. Should’ve made the stupid bitch abort you. Then I wouldn’t be stuck supporting your worthless ass and banging that ugly mom of yours every night. Biggest mistake of my life.
The vehicle lurched to a stop. She unbuckled and slid quietly out before Marshall and Dylan ordered her to stay. If giving herself up got Riley back, that was okay. The Arsenal had Vi, Bree, and Rhea safe. HERA was theirs. Once their sister was secure, they could deal with getting Mary back.
“What are you doing?” Dylan asked,
crowding her against the truck.
“Going with you. They want a trade. Me for her.”
“And you’re just going to march in there and give yourself up,” Marshall commented.
“It’s my fault Riley’s in there.”
Dylan and Marshall exchanged thunderous expressions filled with anger and something else she couldn’t identify. Dylan reached into the back of the truck and pulled out a bulletproof vest. He slid it over her without comment, secured the sides.
“Stay behind me at all times, okay?”
“Okay,” she whispered, tears in her gaze.
“What are you thinking right now, Mary?” he asked.
“That I’m really sorry they took Riley. I got her and all of you into this mess. I’ll fix it though, I promise.”
“Fuck,” Marshall cursed. “Handle this, or I will.”
Mary watched him storm away, confused. She blinked away the stray tears and willed the fear clawing her insides back. There would be plenty of time to panic later. Now she needed to focus. Marshall had been right at Bubba’s. Focus on Riley. Getting her out was all that mattered.
She’d go in, give herself up, and buy what time she could so reinforcements could come and help Marshall and Dylan. That’d keep Riley safe. Mary had what the assholes wanted. Maybe. She still didn’t understand why they were so obsessed with her rather than Vi.
“Mary, we aren’t trading you. Is that what you thought?”
“Why not?” She looked up at him, utterly confused. “It’s the smart play. We go in, switch. It buys time. Then you get me out when reinforcements come. I’m okay with the play, Dylan.”
“Well I’m not. Let’s go.” He settled a gun in her hand. “You trained on weapons at Hive, right?”
She nodded.
“Okay, then let’s go.”
The tremble rippling through her was a problem. If gunfire was exchanged, she’d hit Dylan or Marshall just as easily as the bad guy. And if Riley was in the middle.... A shiver coursed through Mary’s blood. Rage quickly followed. They’d taken the woman to shake her up and it worked. They picked on her because she was the perceived weakness of her group. The one who’d break easier, probably because they had her file, read the background.
She filed the clue in her mind and moved on. Riley needed an extraction.
Dylan and Marshall cursed and moved double time up the steps and into the entrance. She followed, assessing their surroundings to understand what they saw to make them move quicker. Then she heard.
“Tell me who the hell you are. Why did you take me?”
“Bitch, you’re crazy.”
“No, I’m a little pissed. I’m sitting there, minding my own dang business, and you and your jackhole friend think you can waltz into my town, my favorite bar, and snatch me? With half the town watching? You’re the crazy one.” Riley’s voice echoed from down the hall.
Marshall held up a hand. Dylan froze, took Mary’s arm so she’d do the same.
“Here’s the deal. You’re in a heap of trouble. I don’t know what they did while they were gone, but I’ve got six big brothers. Six! Every one of them knows a thousand ways to gut idiots like you, then kill them. All while you’re still breathing. Feeling. So you’re telling me everything you know because I’m pretty sure I heard a truck pull up outside, which means at least a few of them are about to storm this place. I’m a lot easier to work with.”
“Did she...” Mary broke off the question when she saw Dylan’s grin.
Marshall shook his head, as if not believing the situation, and headed into what Mary assumed used to be the master bedroom. Riley stood over a guy trussed up to a chair with rope. A stranger stood with a gun drawn on the man. Anger thinned his lips and darkened his otherwise handsome face.
“Brant,” Dylan greeted.
“Was about to give you a call, but she wanted a few moments,” Brant said. “Saw them dragging her out, raising hell. Followed. Everyone back in town okay?”
“You know Resino. Things slide off people’s backs pretty quick,” Marshall commented. “Thanks for keeping her secure. You sure you don’t want a job?”
“Had enough of the cloak and dagger stuff. Besides, I’ve got my hands full helping Uncle Chet run the clinic in town.” Brant flashed Mary a smile. “These boys are always trying to recruit me. I prefer patching people up, not making the wounds.”
“They could use a couple patchers,” she replied. “I’m Mary. Thanks for saving Riley.”
“Please,” Riley added. “Don’t swell his head any bigger than it is. I had this under control.”
“You let them take you,” Marshall thundered, voice low enough to shake the ground.
“It’s what you would’ve done. She and her friends are out at the ranch hiding, and you are totally okay with it. Why? They deserve answers.” Riley pointed at Mary angrily.
“They aren’t exactly cowering, scared kittens, Riles. You don’t know what all they’ve done, but trust me. Nothing about those women’s actions is kitten-like,” Marshall said.
“I’m not stupid, Marsh. I know what they did to Mary. I see it in her eyes every time she looks at me. She’s broken. Haunted. I already have one best friend ghosting through life the past few months. I’m not sitting back letting assholes take another woman down, not when I can do something this time.”
“Come on, let’s go.” Dylan tagged Mary’s arm and pulled. “I want you secure.”
“Wait. What’s she mean?” Mary asked.
“Later.” His jaw twitched.
“Dylan, I want to know. What does she mean she’s got a best friend ghosting through life?”
He glanced at Marshall, who shook his head. Great. They weren’t gonna answer. Fine. She’d get her answers from the source. She closed the distance between herself and Riley, who was shoving a weapon she’d just tucked into her jeans like disarming a bad guy was something she did every day. A Mason through and through.
Brant chuckled and slapped Marshall on the back. “Good luck, man. She’s on a mission.”
“Are you okay?” Mary asked her.
“Yeah, you?” Concern filled the woman’s voice. “Why do these pricks want you? This one’s too stupid to know.”
“Come on, let’s head back to the ranch. We’ll talk there. I want to know what you meant about the ghosting through life, and I’m not going to get any answers from Dylan.”
“No. My brothers are too protective. Alpha males who think we women need protecting. From what I’ve seen, in your case, they could be right. But you and your friends kicked ass with that show and tell today.”
“She kicks ass because the beautiful brains behind her do,” Dylan commented. “Let’s go, Riles. We’ll talk on the way. Marshall’s staying with your new friends until someone comes in for a pick up.”
“You aren’t hauling him in with us, working him over?” Riles asked as she glared at the oily-haired man strung up.
“Jesus, what the hell do you think we do?” Marshall asked.
“You’re the one with the huge compound and all the GI Joe ass kickers on his payroll. I’m just filling in the blanks.” Riley shrugged. “His friend passed out when I broke his arm. I used the move you and Jesse taught me after he tried to rip my shirt off.”
A thunderstorm rolled into the room. Marshall’s fists flexed. “Oh really?”
“Hey, now. That wasn’t me,” the strung-up asshole shouted. “You gotta listen. I’m hired muscle, not even that good at it, okay? Two G’s is a lot to pass up, you know?”
“Keep talking,” Dylan ordered as he unholstered his weapon and stood on the other side of the man. Close.
Sweat broke out across the man’s brow. “I don’t know anything. We were supposed to get the woman, the ugly mousy brunette, then call a number once we got in San Antonio. That’s all I know. Swear.”
“Number,” Marshall growled.
The man rattled it off. Dylan punched keys on his phone, then headed toward Mary, weapon holstered. “Let�
�s go.”
“I can do a trace on the number when we get to the ranch. I remember it,” she offered.
“Cord’s on it. He’ll bring Vi in if needed.”
“I’m the one they keep targeting, Dylan. I’m not sitting by and letting your brothers and my best friend do all the heavy lifting on this one. I want in on whatever the hell is going on.”
“Someone just walked into the bar of my small hometown and took my little sister to get you. I don’t want to stand here out in the open and have a conversation right now, Mary. I want you in the ranch, in the compound, in a bed. Is that too much to ask?”
Yes, yes it was. Mary glared up at the man who’d turned her life upside down. The ugly mousy brunette. That’s how the asshole inside had described her. No, that’s how the asshole who’d hired the asshole described her. Is that what Dylan saw when he looked at her?
And why did the thought hurt so much?
“Stop eye fucking her and get us home,” Riley commented as she wrapped an arm around Mary and dragged them toward the truck.
Eye fucking me? Please, as if.
Her pulse quickened, her body tingled as she looked over her shoulder at Dylan. Pale moonlight and the truck’s headlights spotlighted his reddened face. Uhm, wow. Okay. Unsure what to do with whatever that was, she climbed into the backseat with Riley and shifted her focus to getting answers about the ghosting thing.
Mary felt useless. Dylan and his brothers weren’t about to let her help with the problem she’d dropped on their doorstep. To them, she was a hapless female needing protection. She was a trained operative. Okay, a back-office operative, but still. Mary didn’t do idle. Ever.
CHAPTER TWELVE
“So let me get this straight.” Addy’s voice lowered an octave as she sat on the bed beside Rhea and Bree. “Some asshole walked into the bar and grabbed Riley, out in the open where everyone could see?”
“Yep, pretty much,” Vi replied. “It was stupid, amateur hour.”
