by Liliana Hart
“My parents treated me like an indentured servant. More of a robot than a child. They built me from the ground up. They dictated what I ate, what I studied, what piano pieces I’d learn to play, and a daily exercise routine that was the only “play” time I got. I could speak three languages by the age of four. Six languages by the age of ten. My parents had every aspect of my life planned. I wasn’t a human being to them. I was a machine. And I felt dead inside. There was no love in that house, no affection. I didn’t think I was any worse off being dead than being alive. At least I might have peace in death. Izzy, our housekeeper, was the one who found me.”
She traced the scar on her wrist with a long, elegant finger. “My parents were mortified of course. My father had all of the hospital records expunged, as well as the psychiatric evaluations. And they were furious that I’d delayed my studies by several months. They hadn’t included a suicide watch in their meticulously laid out plan.”
“I hope you don’t mind me saying, but I don’t like your parents.”
She laughed, and it was the first time he’d seen her face unguarded and free of the burdens she carried. She hadn’t had an easy life, and the path she’d chosen wouldn’t mean an easy future. But Lacey Shaw had been given a second chance at life and it was obvious she wanted to make as much of an impact as possible. If she came on with MacKenzie Security it would be to their mutual benefit.
“So you graduated at fifteen and then immediately started the summer term at Harvard. How did you get to class if you couldn’t drive?”
She rolled her eyes and her youth made him feel ancient, though he was just shy of a decade older. “Izzy drove me. Talk about having no chance of fitting in anywhere. I was too young to have anything in common with the other students, and to make it worse, I was driven to my classes in a Bentley. It was mortifying. Not to mention I was under closer scrutiny than ever before. My professors sent my parents weekly reports. If I spoke to any classmates a background check was run on them. I was also given proper doses of medication and twice weekly therapy sessions by one of my father’s colleagues.”
“They wanted you to be a doctor?” he asked.
She relaxed visibly the longer they talked. “Yes, but they had a purpose for me, and money and power are what matters most to my parents. The surgeon only gets to play at being God. Those who create cures and sell them to the highest bidder get to be God. It’s what I was created for. And I say created in the most clinical sense, because the thought of my parents having any passion in their lives is laughable. They’d actually terminated two pregnancies before me because testing of the fetus came back with slight abnormalities. If I’d followed their plan I would’ve been finished with medical school by the age of twenty-two, which would’ve made me the youngest ever American doctor.”
“And instead you joined the Army.”
“Hooah,” she said, tipping her bottle at him. “You can imagine how well that went over.”
“You do have commendations for bravery.”
“Stupidity was more like it. My parents and I haven’t spoken more than a few sentences to each other in six years.”
“Sometimes what we have inside of us is bigger than the people who love us can understand.”
She nodded and her stare was sober. “The question is, how do we figure out what’s inside of us?” She held up her wrist and said, “The fourteen-year-old girl who did this didn’t think she had anything worthwhile inside of her.”
“Maybe not, but the woman you are now knows her worth. You worked harder than any of us could ever know to pull that fourteen-year-old girl out of the despair she was in. You’re a fighter at the heart of it all. And your parents shaped your destiny just by pushing you in the direction they did. If they’d known you’d be so stubborn maybe they would’ve done things differently. Or maybe they wouldn’t have. But it was you who made the decision to join the Army. You went in as a second lieutenant, but you asked to be a medic. Not many people would request the dangerous jobs, especially not with officer’s bars.”
“It was the best way I knew to be the most help.”
Declan nodded and recognized the steel core in her. She was tougher than she looked. She might look like a sorority girl, but she was anything but. Her hair was gold under the soft glow of the lights and it was pinned loosely at the base of her neck so a few wisps escaped and framed her face. Her eyes were large and her lashes thick, but it was the color that was so arresting. Amethyst. Not even a hint of blue. A true amethyst.
“You earned your medical combat badges, and you’re an expert marksman. You received special permission to go through Ranger school just for the hell of it, even though they don’t allow women to become Rangers. You’ve saved countless lives, and you bark orders with the skill of a four-star general. It was a pleasure to watch you work in Syria.”
“I never did find out what you were doing there in the middle of a military operation,” she said, arching a brow in curiosity.
Declan smiled, but didn’t answer. “You’re a survivor. And you’re a woman who needs a challenge. When that challenge is met you’re going to need another one. And another. To hell with your parents. You’ve forged your own way, and now you have to decide what you want to do with the rest of your life.”
“Is this the part where you explain whether or not the rumors are true about MacKenzie Security and offer me a job?”
He barked out a laugh. “You’ll do, Lacey Shaw. I handpick everyone on my team, and I want you on that team.”
“What could you possibly do with a formerly suicidal, honorably discharged Army medic with a biology degree from Harvard who can speak multiple languages?”
“Before I answer that, tell me what you want. You retired from service. It must’ve been for a reason.”
She rolled the empty beer bottle between her palms. “I want to be a doctor,” she said and blew out a breath. “But I have no idea what kind or specialty, and that’s the first time I’ve admitted that. My thoughts are all over the place and I have no focus. I loved being a medic. I loved the adrenaline rush of being in the thick of things, and I loved having a purpose. I loved that I got to save lives. I don’t have the letters behind my name yet, but there’s a part of me that feels as if I’ve already done it all. I don’t even know if that makes sense,” she said, shaking her head.
“It makes perfect sense. And I think I can help.”
“Oh yeah?” she asked. “Let’s hear it.”
“MacKenzie Security will send you to medical school. But it’s going to be a little…different than if you were back at Harvard.”
She arched a brow. “I’m intrigued.”
“I know.” His smile was sharp. Rule number one of working an op. Always know your prey. And though Lacey Shaw wasn’t prey in the typical sense of the word, she was his target. And Declan was used to getting the outcome he wanted. “Have you ever heard of the Brighton School?”
“No, should I have?”
“Not unless you’ve been digging into classified files,” he said. “The Brighton School is off the books. It’s for those who show exceptional aptitude in certain areas. Kind of like the X-Men’s Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters.”
She laughed at the reference as he’d intended.
“The government likes to get a handle on those who might become useful later down the line.”
“And what happens if somewhere down the line I don’t feel like working for the government and I just want to live a normal life and open a regular practice?”
He shrugged. “We create covers every day. It’s not a big deal. Or they’ll kill you. It’s kind of a crap shoot.”
“I don’t particularly want to work for the CIA. Last I heard neither did you. That’s why you left to create MacKenzie Security.”
“What I have in mind for you doesn’t fall under CIA protocol. You’ll answer to me and only me. What I’ve created has been in talks for more than thirty years. But I’m going to be the one to orchestr
ate it. I don’t get as bogged down in red tape as others.”
“You have to answer to someone. Otherwise you’re going to end up with a bullet in your head. No one can have complete power.”
“Believe me, I answer to someone. And I take full responsibility for my team. But what I want from you is a little broader. You’ll work for me, but you’ll be serving the whole. I want you to run an off-the-books hospital for black-ops agents and certain classified military personnel. No one admitted into the hospital lives under ordinary circumstances.
He recognized the disbelief on her face and said, “We’ve waited for you this long, so we can wait a few more years. You’ve got the skills of a black ops agent yourself, you’ve been in combat, and once you have your medical degree you’ll be completely qualified for the job. You’re not afraid to buck the rules to save a life, and you think outside the box when you need to.
“The hospital will be yours. You’ll recruit the best doctors and scientists in the world to work on everything from research and development to cancer treatments to cell regeneration for burn victims. I’m talking science fiction at its finest. Your budget is unlimited. And your paycheck will be a hell of a lot more than military pay.”
She narrowed her eyes at him and said, “I don’t do anything for money. I do it because it’s what I want to do.”
“We can keep your military grade salary and benefits intact,” he said without missing a beat.
“I never want to be the kind of person who does what I do for money. I’m not my parents.”
“Understood. You’ll receive a modest salary and excellent benefits, because that’s what the entire team receives, as well as housing. You won’t be home much anyway while you’re finishing medical school and setting up the hospital.”
“Where is this hospital supposed to be?”
“Not far from here. The building is finished and waiting for your personal touch and direction. It’s secluded, for safety reasons, and personnel will have a minimum level-six clearance. Research and development, a level-seven. You’ll have level-eight as the chief.”
Her eyes were constantly moving, constantly scanning the crowd for possible threats. He’d always found it was the easiest way to spot law enforcement or military. They all did it. But then her gaze landed somewhere and she seemed curious. Or maybe mesmerized was the better word.
He looked to see what had caught her gaze and he realized she was looking at his brother, Shane. As usual, Shane was surrounded by three of the bridesmaids and a couple of attendees. And he was loving every minute of it. There was something about Shane that drew women to him like flies to honey, and it didn’t seem like even the stoic Lacey Shaw was immune. Or maybe he was wrong and she was simply curious as to his behavior.
“That’s my brother, Shane,” he said. “Fifty bucks says he’ll go home with at least two of those women.”
“I’m a keen observer of humans,” she said. “And I can tell you that’s a sucker’s bet.”
Declan laughed approvingly and said, “We keep thinking he’ll grow out of it, but we’ve been saying that for years. He’s a SEAL and he loves the attention it brings.”
“And sometimes the attention is needed to erase the darkness in a person’s life. I’d think a SEAL might live in quite a bit of that darkness.”
Declan sighed. She’d been correct in saying she was a keen observer of human nature. “It’s not an easy life. But at least I have one brother who managed to find his light in the darkness. The rest of us aren’t that lucky.”
“Sometimes luck doesn’t have anything to do with it. Everyone has a chance to find their light. Without the promise of light there wouldn’t be any hope.”
“That’s very philosophical for someone who stands firm in science.”
Her cheeks flushed red and she took her gaze from Shane. Then she changed the subject to the topic they’d been discussing before. “You’re sure I’m the best fit for your hospital?” she asked. “I’m sure there are others who are older and more experienced you’ve considered.”
“Of course,” he said. “But people who are older and more experienced tend to like things a certain way. They’re not fans of change. And sometimes that fear keeps them from coming up with the best solutions. You’ll sign your life away in nondisclosure agreements, but it seems little to ask for what you’ll be getting in return.”
“What happens if I finish medical school and discover I don’t want to be a surgeon? What if my specialty is something else?”
“I have a few ideas,” he said. “But I thought I’d wait to mention them to you in case the realization comes to you later down the road.”
She arched a brow at that. “You’re telling me you know what I’ll want to do with my life, before I know what I want to do with my life?”
“Pretty much. It’s my job to gather information. I know you as well as you know yourself. And I also have the benefit of being an observer to your true nature, whereas you’re too close to the matter at the moment to get a clear picture.”
“I was going to go to Aruba before you asked me to come here,” she said. “To assimilate into civilian life again.”
“Our plane can have you there by tomorrow afternoon if you’d like. We have a villa that’s empty at the moment. Take a couple of weeks off. A month if you wish. Have an island romance. You’ve earned it.”
She laughed and shook her head. “This has to be a weird dream. Things like this don’t happen to normal people.”
“Who said you were normal?” he asked. “We don’t do normal at MacKenzie Security. We do extraordinary.”
He watched as she thought through all the variables, and felt confident in her answer, so he took another swig of beer and checked his watch. In another half hour Cade and Bayleigh would be on their way and he could escape to get some work done.
“All right, MacKenzie,” she finally said. “I’ll have your answer…after I get back from Aruba.”
He smiled. “That’s what I thought you’d say. And the offer will still be available when you say yes.”
“I don’t think I like being so predictable,” she said.
“Wouldn’t you be disappointed if the head of MacKenzie Security wasn’t more extraordinary that everyone else?”
“I guess when you put it that way…”
Chapter 2
Eight Years Later…
Shane MacKenzie sped along the winding dirt road, the top and doors off his Jeep so the wind whipped around him. Brady Scott stood in the passenger seat beside him, bracing himself on the roll bar and howling like a maniac every time Shane skidded around a corner and spewed mud from the tires.
It was a hell of a day. The sun was out after a night of rain, the air was fresh, and they were on leave for the next two weeks. It was going to be a glorious two weeks of sleep, sun, and sex, in no particular order, though sleep was probably going to have to come first. Their last mission had just been completed—successfully—and they’d been awake for thirty-six hours straight. Eventually, they’d crash hard, but a second wind had taken over the moment the plane had landed on the private airstrip owned by his brother.
Montana was home. No matter how far and wide a mission took him—from the deserts to the jungles—there was nothing quite like home.
The Jeep had been parked exactly where he’d left it six weeks before—in one of the hangars Declan used to store maintenance vehicles. They’d tossed their duffle bags in the back and taken off for Surrender. Cresting over the hill that looked down over the sleepy town was one of his greatest pleasures in life, and he paused for a second at the top and took in the sight.
He wasn’t good at being still. Staying in one place too long made him antsy. But the sight of Surrender always calmed him. And he knew he’d always be welcome there.
It wasn’t much in the way of cities, and little had changed since the late-1800s. There was only one way in and one way out of Surrender. The main street was as long as a football field and paved in
brick. The city council had passed an ordinance several years before requiring cars to be parked behind the buildings instead of along the street for beautification purposes. There were no stoplights to be found.
The buildings on each side of the street mirrored one another. They were the original clapboard structures, painted a fresh bright white, and connected by thick brick walls. Black awnings hung in front of each store, and the sidewalks were wooden. Little pots of blooming flowers flanked the doorways and gas lights hung from above. It was a quaint, postcard of a town.
Shane had known early on he wasn’t meant to stay in Surrender forever. His soul had always craved adventure, and as picturesque as Surrender was, there wasn’t a lot of adventure to be found unless he’d wanted to be a professional outdoorsman and take vacationers on extreme camping trips. Being a SEAL had always been his dream.
He’d sweated and struggled and bled through BUD/S and the horrendous Hell Week, just like his brothers-in-arms, and he’d worked his way up to command his own team. He’d traveled the world, fought beside his men, and gone on missions that made the adventures he’d once sought seem like child’s play.
He was also single and free to indulge in the hordes of women who got their own adrenaline rush by taking a SEAL to their bed. The frog hogs were good for a night or two after a long stretch out of country, but a night or two was all they got. He had no intention of settling down like his brothers and sister and cousins. His career as a SEAL had no room for a wife or children—people who would depend on him and then be left alone if he were killed in action. And there was nothing that would keep him from being a SEAL. The only thing he loved more than being a SEAL was his family.
The Jeep started down the hill into the town and they passed Charlie’s Automotive on the left. It belonged to his cousin Dane’s wife, Charlotte, but everyone called her Charlie. It was a blue metal building with three bays for the cars to be worked on. He didn’t see Charlie anywhere, but he waved at Deacon Thomas, who’d graduated a couple of years behind him.
