by Diana Palmer
The boy would rather go back to his abuser than stay with him.
That hurt.
“If you need to go somewhere, I’ll be glad to drive you,” he said.
Will spun around toward him, his eyes wild with fright. Brody’s pulse clamored as he realized that Will was afraid of him.
Or maybe he’d thought he was someone else?
Will wrapped his hands around the steering wheel with a white-knuckled grip. “You’d take me?” he asked.
Brody grimaced at the scars on his knuckles. “That depends on where you were going. You want to take me to the man who kidnapped you and Hank?”
Will glared at him. “No.”
“Then like it or not, you’re under my supervision. It’s here or back to jail.”
“Like this isn’t another prison?” Will asked in a sharp voice.
Brody sighed. “Does this ranch look like a prison? Are there bars on your windows? Guards at the door? Cells?”
Will gave him a challenging look. “You picked up troubled kids from orphanages and brought them here to work for you. You may act nice at first, but I bet once you have them here for a while, all that changes.”
“Is that what happened to you?” Brody asked. “The man who kidnapped you treated you nice at first, then he turned on you and started beating you?”
The color drained from Will’s face, and he averted his eyes as if he realized he’d said too much.
“He beat you and locked you up and did God knows what?” Brody said, the images haunting him. “So why would you go back to him?” He pounded his fist on the roof of the car. “That is where you were going, isn’t it?”
Will worked his mouth from side to side, then slid from the car and faced him. “You wouldn’t understand if I told you.”
“Try me.” Brody squared his shoulders. Will was almost as tall as him but leaner. Still he had that hardness in his eyes that cut him to the bone.
Will made a sarcastic sound low in his throat. “Why? So you can use it against me?”
Brody silently cursed. “You’ve got it all wrong, Will. I’m on your side just like I am for these kids. I don’t bring them here to work. I don’t beat them or hurt them. Most of them have had some hard knocks in their lives. They’ve been abused, abandoned, hurt, and some of them have even skirted trouble with the law.” He paused to let that sink in. “But I treat them with respect, teach them to respect themselves. No one on my staff, and that includes me, ever lays a hand to one of them in anger.”
Brody gave him an imploring look. “Please, let me help you. Talk to me.”
“You can’t help me,” Will said, his voice low, filled with despair. “No one can.”
Brody reached out to touch him, but Will jerked away.
Headlights suddenly beamed a path down the drive, and Brody sighed in relief again. He’d been waiting up on Julie, wondering why she’d been gone so long.
But when she rolled to a stop and climbed out, the expression on her face sent tension coiling in his belly.
She shot a look at Will. “We have to talk.”
Brody gritted his teeth. Something was wrong. Was Will in more trouble than he thought?
* * *
JULIE DREADED the conversation she was about to have because of Brody. But she had to question Will again.
And push him harder to tell the truth.
The realization that Brody and Will had been having an altercation beside the Jeep hit her.
She narrowed her eyes at Will. “What’s going on out here?”
Will clamped his mouth shut and stared across the pasture. Brody shrugged. “We were just talking.”
Will glanced at Brody as if he was surprised he hadn’t revealed more. Judging from the fact that they were standing beside the SUV, she’d bet Will had tried to escape.
She pointed toward the house. “Let’s go inside.”
Brody gestured to Will, and Julie led the way into the house, then veered into Brody’s office.
“What’s wrong?” Brody asked as she set her briefcase on the conference table Brody used for meetings.
Julie cut her eyes toward Will, then removed a folder and opened it. “Sit down, Will, I have some questions for you.”
All emotion fled from his face, and he resumed his military mask as he slid into the wooden chair. Brody looked nervous, but Julie forced herself to focus.
Julie wanted the man who’d taken Will, and she was going to find him, even if it hurt Will and Brody in the process.
She laid Hank Forte’s photograph on the table and pushed it toward Will. “Do you recognize this little boy?”
A muscle ticked in Will’s jaw. “I already told you I don’t.”
“The thing is, Will, I know you’re lying.”
He stiffened and shot her a cold look.
“See,” Julie continued. “I think that the same man who kidnapped you seven years ago kidnapped him.”
Will folded his arms.
“I also think that he kidnapped all of these kids.” She pushed photo after photo onto the table, forcing him to look at them. Then she tapped Jeremy’s photo. “We believe that this boy was his first victim.”
Then she laid the drawing the sketch artist had created from the woman’s testimony in front of Will. “You say you don’t know these other boys. But this guy—how about him?”
Will’s eyes flickered but he didn’t speak.
“We have special software programs at the FBI that take photographs of missing children and show their age progression,” Julie said. “Periodically we post these on the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children. These photographs stay in our databases because we never stop looking for the children.”
“Julie?” Brody asked.
She threw up a hand to silence him, then placed Jeremy’s childhood photo beside the sketch again. “You didn’t know this little boy because he was kidnapped before you. By the time you were abducted, he had been brainwashed.”
Will blew air between his teeth. He was putting on an I-don’t-give-a-damn look, but she also read nervous signs. Beneath the table his leg had started to jiggle.
“Maybe you consider Jeremy your brother,” Julie said. “But he was a victim just like you. And just like little Hank Forte.” She touched his picture again, and Will’s mouth went flat.
“All this time we’ve assumed that the kidnapper was in his twenties when he started, so now he would be in his forties.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “But now I’m wondering if he has a partner.”
Brody leaned over the pictures and studied the sketch of Jeremy. “What are you saying?”
“I just met with a woman who saw a suspicious young man at the local fair where Hank went missing. She said that he was watching Hank while he played the dart-balloon game.”
Will’s face looked tormented, the first sign of real emotion.
“She described the young man to our sketch artist and this is what he looked like.” She waved it in front of Will. “Do you recognize him, Will?”
“My name is Kyle,” Will choked out.
“No, it’s not,” Julie said sternly. “It’s Will Bloodworth, and this man Brody is your brother. But you consider Jeremy your brother, don’t you?” She stood. “Is that why you’re protecting him?” Her voice rose, grew harsh. “Because it looks like Jeremy is helping the man you call your father, and he helped lure Hank Forte away from his parents. It looks like Jeremy helped abduct Hank.”
Brody hissed, anguish in his expression, but Julie continued.
“Did you help him kidnap this little boy, too, Will? Is that the reason you won’t talk? The man you call father taught you and Jeremy to do his dirty work for him.”
Will shot up. “I didn’t help him take that b
oy!”
Brody gripped the edge of the table. He started to speak, but Julie shook her head at him, warning him to let her handle the questioning.
“Jeremy did, though,” Julie said, her heart pounding. “Jeremy was kidnapped when he was a little boy and brainwashed to the point that now he’s aiding in more abductions. And the fact that you’re covering for him—”
“I’m not covering for him,” Will bellowed.
Julie slammed her hands on the table. “Yes, you are, Will. By keeping quiet and protecting the man who took you, you are covering for him.” She swept her hand across the pictures. “You’re helping him hurt these other kids. Tell me, what does he do to them? Beat them? Lock them up in a dark room? Starve them until they beg for food and water?” She heaved a breath. “What is he doing to little Hank right now? Hank is probably terrified, crying for his mother and father. What does the man you call Father do when he cries, Will?”
“Stop it!” Will hissed.
“No, I won’t stop,” Julie said. “I won’t stop until I find this little boy and take him home to his mother and father. I won’t stop until I save him from becoming like Jeremy.”
Pain wrenched Will’s face. Brody reached out to touch him, but Will backed away.
“Please, Will, tell us where this man kept you,” Brody said. “Where is he holding Hank?”
But Will refused to answer. Instead, he adopted his sullen, closed expression again. “I don’t know. Now if you’re finished, I’ll go back to my cell.”
“Your room is not a cell,” Brody snapped. “This is your home, Will.
“I want you to help us find that little boy and the other missing kids, so we can get these charges dropped against you and you can come here to live. So you can have the life you should have had.” Brody’s voice cracked. “The life that that monster stole from you.” He took Will’s arm and forced him to look at him. “I love you. You’re my brother and I want you back here where you belong.”
Will’s gaze met his for a moment, emotions tingeing his eyes as if he wanted to believe what Brody was saying.
But he couldn’t. That was evident when he pulled away and backed toward the door.
“Think about what your brother said,” Julie said quietly. “Help us find Hank and the other boys so they can go back to their families and have a normal life.”
He hesitated, his expression tormented, but a second later, he darted out the door. His footsteps pounded on the steps, then the sound of his door closing echoed through the house.
Julie knotted her hands in frustration, but Brody strode to the bar in the corner of his office, poured himself a shot of whiskey, then tossed it down. When he turned back to her, the anguish in his eyes made her heart ache.
She couldn’t get involved with Brody again, couldn’t allow herself to get close.
But she also couldn’t stand still when he was in such agony.
So she went to him and did what she’d wanted to do since the first moment she’d seen him again.
She pulled him in her arms.
* * *
BRODY’S BODY SHOOK as Julie wrapped her arms around him. He didn’t know how to feel or think. Julie had been rough on Will, but he understood her reason.
God…were the things she’d said true? Had Jeremy, one of the victims of this monster, helped abduct Hank Forte?
“I’m sorry, Brody,” Julie murmured. “I know you’re upset, that that was difficult.”
He closed his eyes, inhaled a deep breath, savoring the comfort she offered. “You think Will really helped kidnap that little boy?”
Julie’s labored sigh echoed in the tense silence. “I don’t know, Brody.” She rubbed his arms with her hands. “I want to say that he didn’t.”
“But he did rob those stores,” Brody said gruffly.
“Yes,” Julie admitted. “But even if he did help lure Hank away, he was probably forced to do so. So was Jeremy. We know Jeremy and Will were both abused, both physically and mentally. It’s going to take time to learn the details of what happened to them.”
“I know. Earlier I caught Will trying to steal that Jeep.”
“I figured that was what happened.”
“He accused me of being like his kidnapper, of bringing the kids here to the BBL to force them to work.” His throat grew thick. “He said I was probably nice to them at first, then I turned on them.”
Julie’s chest squeezed, and she reached up and stroked his jaw. “Obviously that’s all he’s ever known. Right now, he doesn’t trust anyone. Give him time, he’ll realize that you’re nothing like that monster who kidnapped him.”
Brody prayed she was right.
Then Julie’s finger brushed his jaw, and the tension in his body coiled tighter. Only this kind of tension came from the realization that she was in his arms, that her breasts were pressed against his chest, that her lips were only a hairbreadth away from his own.
He’d thought about her so many times over the years. Had wanted her so much. Had dreamt about this moment.
“Brody, I’m so sorry,” Julie whispered. “But I will make this right.”
He gently brushed her hair from her forehead, the silky tendrils driving him crazy with lust.
“You’ve already done a lot,” he murmured. Then he lowered his head and closed his lips over hers. She moaned and parted her lips, and Brody dragged her closer, deepening the kiss.
God, he wanted her. He always had.
He always would.
* * *
JULIE LOST HERSELF in the kiss. She’d craved Brody for so long that it was all she could do not to beg him to make love to her.
His hands threaded through her hair, tangling in the long tresses, reminding her of how he’d loved to play with it when they were younger.
The way it felt as he yanked her closer just before he lost control and thrust inside her.
She reached for his shirt, hungry to touch his bare skin, to feel the rough coarse hair on his broad chest.
To kiss his neck and torso and trail her tongue down to his sex.
Her hands grew frenzied, pulling at his shirt, and he lowered his head and nipped at her neck, then lower to suckle her breasts through her shirt.
But a noise suddenly made them both jerk apart. Will inside his room.
He was pacing, murmuring something she couldn’t understand.
Her breath rasped out in spurts as she tried to regain control. Brody ran his hands over her shoulders where he’d parted her blouse, his eyes smoky as he tilted her face toward him with his thumb.
“We can’t do this, Julie.”
Hurt suffused her and she pulled away, straightening her clothes. “Why? Because you still blame me? Because I was too rough on your brother?”
Brody dragged her back to him, his eyes smokier than she’d ever seen them. Hunger and need flared in his expression, his breathing as ragged as her own.
“No,” he said between clenched teeth. “I meant we can’t do it now.” His gaze dropped to her breasts, and her body tingled, her nipples stiffening to turgid aching peaks.
“But we will make love,” he said. “I will have you again, because I’ve never stopped wanting you.”
Julie’s heart stuttered, a myriad of emotions flooding her throat so she couldn’t speak.
“Now go to bed before I change my mind and take you right here in the hall.” He gestured toward Will’s room. “And we both know that’s not a good idea.”
Julie nodded in concession, although she wanted to tell him that she didn’t care. She was tired of work, tired of hunting down sadistic killers, tired of seeing women’s bloody bodies in her sleep, and tortured little boys crying out for help while she was awake.
But she knew he was right.
Still, his words
taunted her as she rushed into the guest room and shut the door.
She started to undress, and her hand slid over her gun. She’d vowed to find Brody’s brother and bring him back to him, but he didn’t really have him back yet.
She wouldn’t give up until she did.
Then and only then could she believe that she might have a chance with Brody.
* * *
KYLE STARED AT the photo of Brody and the kid on the wall, then at the photo album, his stomach churning. Images were starting to claw at his mind.
Images of skipping rocks in a creek, of another guy there with him showing him how to angle them just right.
Of Brody.
Brody showing him how to saddle a horse. How to rope a calf. How to throw horseshoes.
No…he had never lived on a ranch. Brody was playing with his head. He’d doctored that DNA report because he wanted him to believe that he was his brother.
They were trying to trick him into ratting out Father. Father had said that the police were like that, that they were the enemy. That they would lie to him, beat him, try to make him believe things that weren’t true.
His home was back with Father and Jeremy and the others.
He closed his eyes, willing the images he’d seen today to leave his mind. They hadn’t been real.
Except those boys had been laughing at the campout. Talking and having fun.
Fun…not allowed at the compound.
Then he saw Hank’s face. Hank crying as Jeremy had brought him to Father. Father’s harsh look as he’d dragged Hank to the pit.
Hank’s scream as he was closed into the darkness.
He began to shake, sweat beading on his skin. He was back there again, back in the hole, the cold dark swallowing him. He tried to count the minutes until Father would return, but minutes turned into hours. Hours into days.
Days he couldn’t remember because the terror had played with his mind.
That agent Julie thought he’d helped lure Hank to Father. That made his stomach roil. He hadn’t lured Hank.
But still Hank was there now. Suffering. Terrified. Alone.
Brody’s words echoed in his head. I love you, Will. I want to help you.
