by Cara Carnes
Zoey flew the first boomer into position. “Fire in the hole.”
Boom.
The concussive shockwave echoed from the distance. Smoke and soot filled the display of the second drone she flew in. No heat signatures. Three fragmented bodies appeared on the other side of a small hole where a floor used to be.
“Clear for entry.”
“Roger,” Gage said. “Cracker, you and Thunder make first entry. Doug and I are on your six.”
“Roger.”
Zoey held her breath as the two men from Addy’s team made first entry. The fight was quick and lethal. Every strike the Arsenal operatives took ended with flawless proficiency.
The underground catacombs were more complex than she’d expected, which meant this trafficking operation Kristof had opted to hide within was more sophisticated than she’d initially suspected.
The bastard wouldn’t get away. There was nowhere he could run that she wouldn’t find him. Her pulse quickened as Gage took primary position alongside Cracker and headed left. Thunder and Doug went right. Fallon went left while Beast went right.
The drone entered each area before the men. She sent visuals and data to their headsets and remained silent as they assessed, then engaged the next wave of assholes. They didn’t need her for this phase of the fight.
This was about brute strength and violence. The more, the better.
By the time both teams had cleared their areas, only three heat signatures remained within the structure. She sent the locations to the teams and packed up her gear to get closer.
Death had a scent and a taste. Both penetrated her nostrils and mouth as she navigated her way past the remnants of whatever idiots had signed on to protect her quarry. The evidence of their crimes was in piles of bundled drugs and cash along the narrow halls.
Cages.
Disgust rolled through her.
There’d been people in those cages at some point. The stench of feces and stale urine penetrated her nostrils as she wound her way back to where the cluster of Arsenal operatives surrounded one remaining target.
Kristof.
Gage and Thunder held the man immobile on his knees.
Stripped.
Zoey let the moment string out longer than she’d intended. Each second she paused was for Addy and whatever the brave woman had endured to get Jade safe.
For Zoey.
She fisted her hand and moved to punch him, but Ramon grabbed her wrist and clucked his tongue. “We must teach you to fight, Z. Your thumb goes around this way.” The man repositioned her fingers and firmed his grip around her newly formed fist. “There. You are ready. Proceed.”
Pain jolted through her hand when the punch landed. She suspected it hurt her far more than it did Kristof. The bastard smiled, then laughed outright.
Thunder punched him.
“Thank you,” Zoey said as she took another step closer to Kristof. Blood dribbled from his nose and mouth. “You fucked up, Kristoff.”
“You are the one who’s made a grave error. I will not tolerate this, even for Jud.”
“This doesn’t concern Jud,” Zoey said, her voice clipped with the rage rolling through her. “This is between you and me. We had an agreement you violated.”
“I did no such thing,” the man argued.
“Someone very dear to me went through hell not too long ago. She promised the bastards who hurt her payback. Threefold.”
“How have I violated our agreement?” Kristof asked.
“You stripped her.”
“Ah, this is about Rugers. Of course.” The man sneered.
“You beat her.”
Gage punched the bastard’s face, and then followed up with a kick to the gut. Zoey watched as Gage and Thunder took turns. The beating wasn’t anywhere close to what the bastard deserved.
“I’ll likely never know what happened when her com went off, but know this. She’s Arsenal,” Zoey declared as she leaned down and got in Kristof’s battered face. “I trusted you to protect her, and you violated that trust. You hurt her.”
“You don’t want to mess with me, little hummingbird.”
“I already have,” she declared. “You’re dead. Every identity. Every record of your existence is gone, except for your real one: Kristof Lavrov, registered sex offender.”
His gaze narrowed.
“That’s your punishment for stripping her like a possession.”
“Does she know you came here to fight her battles?”
“That’s what family does, Kristoff. You kick one of us and another will pop up and kick your ass in. We’re the whack-a-mole game you won’t ever win.”
Doug laughed.
“That was all I was going to do to you, then I started wondering what you did after she was beaten. What happened when those coms went down. I’ve gotta admit, Kristof. None of what I came up with left me warm and fuzzy.”
“That’s none of your business.”
“That’s what Addy said,” Zoey admitted. “Which is why I have another round of punishment for you. See, my brain operates a bit differently than most. That doesn’t surprise you, I’m sure.”
“You are quite strange,” the man admitted.
Gage growled and punched the man in the stomach.
“I have a trust system I call Zoey’s personal security protocol system. There are levels, like in a computer game. Most people never make it past Level One.” Zoey paused. She hadn’t meant to go into the details with Gage and his men around. They’d think she was crazy.
No. They knew her.
They’d already figured out she was marching to a different song than others. That was why Gage loved her.
“I’m not sure how it happened, but everyone at The Arsenal slid from Level One all the way up to Level Three before I’d realized it,” she admitted. “There are only five levels. Addy and quite a few of the others are deep into Level Four. So you and me have a long way to go, Kristof, before you earn enough points to get back onto Level One. Right now you’re not even in the game anymore.”
“Who says I want to be?” Kristof asked.
“Stacia.” She glared down at him and waited for the realization to strike.
The man’s eyes widened, and pain sliced across his face. She took a brief hit of doubt, then remembered the audio. The beating.
Addy.
“You’re on a road to redemption, Kristof. You want to learn anything about Stacia, you work really hard to prove you’re the kind of man I’d trust around her—or any woman, for that matter.” Zoey drew the small red envelope out of the pocket she’d tucked it into after waking at the motel. “This is your cross. You violated my trust, Kristof. Don’t ever cross me or my team, my family, or anyone close to me. Do it again, and I’ll bury you.”
Zoey tossed the red envelope onto the ground and left. Kristof’s enraged shouts echoed around her, but she didn’t stop. Even though it was a low blow, he deserved it. She didn’t give a damn what was between him and Stacia, whoever she was.
He’d hurt Addy.
For now he’d suffer right alongside the rest of them.
Right alongside Zoey.
One day, likely soon because she was a pushover and he was Jud’s friend, he’d earn more information. By then the woman would either be ready or not.
For today, the lesson she’d intended to give was done. She waited outside the building. Everyone arrived within a few minutes. Gage wrapped his arms around her and kissed her. Hard, long, and deep.
“Why the hell don’t I get a kiss like that?” Thunder asked.
“No one would kiss your ugly mug,” Shep retorted.
Zoey broke the kiss as Addy’s team bantered back and forth. She looked up at Gage as he gave a chin lift to Doug, Ramon, and Pierce. His new team.
“Let’s go home,” she ordered.
25
Therapy.
The word seemed so innocuous, yet the realization she was on her way to a group therapy session was overwhelming. She’d fa
ced off against assholes in quite a few battles lately and would gladly do so again to avoid whatever was awaiting in the mess hall.
“Why was it moved? I thought you said they met in one of the rooms near medical?”
“Doctor Sinclair expects a crowd,” Gage whispered. His hot breath trailed along her neck as he ran a hand down her arm.
Tingles burst along her skin. They’d made love all night after they returned to the compound. No sirens had gone off when they arrived. Although it seemed as if her little excursion had gone undetected, she couldn’t help but suspect the Masons knew where she’d gone.
Zoey’s brain chewed on the fodder Gage’s soft reply offered. Therapy was going to be crowed today because of her. She read between the lines and filled in the blanks.
“If you aren’t ready, we won’t go in,” Gage said.
“No.” She shook her head. “I’ve thought about what Ramon said about lots of the operatives wondering why I didn’t trust them with what I was doing.”
“They’ll understand. I’ll make them understand.”
“That’s not your fight to take on,” she whispered. “I love that you want to fight my battles for me, Gage, but I need to do this.”
“Coming here is to get your head sorted on what happened to you, Zoey. It’s not about explaining yourself. They won’t be in there expecting that. They’ll be here to work through the mental fallout of what happened to you.”
“And Addy.” Zoey’s insides tightened. “You think she’ll be here?”
“Marshall ordered all the team leaders to be here in case they were needed,” Gage said gently.
“Great.”
“I’ll be there right beside you, Little Bit. We’ll leave whenever you want,” he promised.
Zoey nodded and made her way into the mess hall. Jesse, Dallas, Nolan, and Cord were putting chairs into position around the farthest back section of the large room. An oval arrangement of chairs with several layers had been formed around an empty hole in the center.
Doctor Sinclair glanced up from her notebook. Her vantage point atop the stool near the center put her front and center. “Oh, good. You’re early. How are you doing?”
“Fine. A little nervous,” Zoey admitted.
“Well, I’m glad you’re here. I have to admit this might not be the best session for you to attend for your first time. A lot of the operatives have expressed an intention to be here for it.”
“I’ll be fine. I need to do this.”
The woman’s gaze softened. “You know this isn’t a jury, right? Nothing that will be said or discussed here will be directed at you. It’s a fine line to understand, but something that impacts one person can and often does impact those within that person’s personal network.
Personal network?
Zoey cocked her head.
“When you’re ready, we’ll chat more one-on-one.” The woman motioned toward the first rung of chairs. “Why don’t you two sit up front? Some participants find it easier not to see how many others are in the room. It’s simpler when you’re only focusing on me or perhaps the one beside you when you speak.”
Gage squeezed her hand as she plopped into a chair. Her pulse rattled as silence descended and the woman headed back to where Jesse and the others were finishing up the setup. This was a bad, bad idea. The worst she’d ever had.
She’d wanted to be strong.
She was the first to admit she needed help. Compartmentalizing her thoughts wasn’t working any longer because some of the monsters were bigger and meaner than the little boxes she had to tuck them away in.
She’d yet to shower.
As disgusting as the realization sounded, she couldn’t bring herself to put her head under a stream of water. The thought sickened her stomach. She’d mastered the art of a washcloth washdown. There was little doubt Gage had noticed.
She reached up and grazed her fingertips along her bald head and down her bruised face. When her mind was focused on whatever task was before her, it was simple to not think about the physical evidence of what she’d endured. As long as she avoided mirrors, she could almost forget.
But her face hurt.
Heck, her arm hurt, too.
“Look at me, Little Bit.” Gage cupped her face but waited for her to establish eye contact herself. She tumbled heart-first into his gaze. “I love you, Zoey. No matter what, I love you.”
“I love you, too,” she whispered. “Are you okay? Being here, I mean.”
“There’s nowhere I’d rather be. I’m ready to slay whatever demons are left in me. It’s time I make way for new memories. With you.”
New memories with her. She really, really liked that idea.
“Hey.”
Zoey jumped at Mary’s voice. The woman stood a couple feet away with Dylan at her side. Jesse and the rest of the Mason brood was there as well. Wow. She’d really been zoned out.
Mary sat on her other side and took her hand. “I know it’s scary, but just look at Doctor Sinclair or over at me or Gage. Whatever’s said here stays here. That’s the rule.”
Zoey watched as people entered the room. Several navigated the chair maze and tossed small black books into a plastic tote at the end of the circle. “What’s that?”
“The only good thing that other bitch did,” Jesse answered from Mary’s other side. “Previous doctor encouraged journaling by calling it ‘mission debriefs.’ Anyone who wants to share what they wrote with her drops them in the box. She’ll write notes or sometimes speak directly to someone about it afterward, but it’s an easier way for people to approach sharing things without having to sit down and spill their guts. It helps.”
Wow. Zoey had a hundred questions poised on the edge of her tongue, but she bit them all back.
“It really does help,” Mary whispered. “I write in mine, and Dylan reads it—sometimes while I’m writing. It helps me communicate the ugly if it’s too bad to verbalize.”
Damn. Zoey didn’t have those kinds of uglies in her brain. Did she?
You haven’t showered since it happened. You freaking reek of uglies.
By the time she’d gotten her brain focused on the new task at hand—therapy—the session had started. She listened as those behind her shared their experiences of the past few weeks. Each one left Zoey’s insides scraped out.
She’d had no idea how many of the operatives struggled with depression. PTSD. Anxiety. So far, no one had mentioned anything to do with her, but she knew it’d happen.
It needed to happen.
Today was the first day for everyone to heal, not just her.
Everyone at The Arsenal had been impacted by what went down. They’d all pitched in and helped save a network she hadn’t trusted them to know about. The rawness of that wound she’d created festered deep inside her and spilled out in fat, hot tears.
Gage muttered a curse and wrapped an arm around her.
“Zoey, look at me.” Doctor Sinclair crouched down in front of her. “Talk to me. Only me. Tell me what you’re thinking.”
“I didn’t want them hurt by it, by what I was doing. That’s why I didn’t share the network with anyone. Now everyone’s here and no one’s talking about it, and I know it’s because they’re afraid Gage or someone’ll go commando on their butts if they say anything.” She sniffled and looked at Doctor Sinclair. “And I’m worried someone I care about a lot got really hurt because of me, and I can’t undo that. No matter what, I can’t erase that. I can’t erase any of this.”
“You and I haven’t spoken very much, but I’m guessing you aren’t used to having a lot of people around you helping when things go bad.” Doctor Sinclair offered a small smile when Zoey shook her head. “I know it was hard to come in here today and see so many chairs, and I’m really glad you spoke up so soon because you’re right. Most everyone wouldn’t have spoken up, but I’m thinking it’s for different reasons than you think.”
The doctor stood.
“Okay, let’s start working through what
all’s happened the past few days. Let’s talk about the network first. How did your assignments go?”
“That shit was intense,” one of the operatives said. “I sat there reading through the file we were given, and I’ve gotta admit I didn’t think this would be a big deal. Then me and Hog and Heineken got to our first asset, and that’s when it hit me. This little girl whose barely five had her arm in a cast. Bone surgeries. Her piece-of-shit father had hurt her so bad she’s having bone grafts to reconstruct a limb. Five years old.”
“The others weren’t much better,” one of the men said. “I sat there after the first night, doing the math, calculating how many people were in this network we didn’t even know existed. Then I realized the same woman whose been covering our asses in the field while Quillery and Edge were neck deep in Dallas’s stuff was going home at night and doing that network shit alone. While I sat on my ass not doing a damn thing.”
“Bullshit. You were jacking off,” someone said.
Laughter commenced.
One by one the operatives talked about what’d gone down with the network protection. Some were affected harder than Zoey had expected because of their own pasts.
“What about the maze?” someone asked.
“Dallas’s woman and kids handed our asses to us,” someone said.
Dallas laughed. “Damn straight. It’ll happen again soon. They’re already practicing.”
“That shit cut deep,” Levi admitted. Zoey tightened as she recognized his voice. Her gaze slid to his team leader, Jesse. “Arriving there, seeing a man I’d crawl through hell for without hesitation working to save a woman who’s become our second mom.”
“I felt fucking useless,” someone admitted. “Someone came and took one of ours and damn near killed Momma Mason, and I couldn’t do a damn thing to help.”
“But you did,” Nolan said. “Every one of you helped. Some of you protected the network. Others tightened compound security. A lot of you schlepped crap from here to the hospital or cooked. You kept things going and did whatever was needed. That’s the kind of help family and team give without realizing it.”
