“Yes, sir.”
The man didn’t offer Hunter an arm or grab his. He simply took off down the hallway with deliberate footsteps in the opposite direction Kat had gone. Hunter followed to a different elevator. They dropped another level or two and then exited left. British boss input his code.
“After you.” His voice gave Hunter the orientation through a narrow doorway he needed, and he entered a small space. The door closed with a metallic thunk. A metal on concrete scrape filled the area. “Have a seat.”
Hunter did his best blind man feel for the chair and sat under a bright light. It seeped through the bag, heating his skin. He knew exactly where he was. Over the years, he’d been in plenty of interrogation rooms. Usually, he was on the other side of the table. After the man pulled the bag from Hunter’s head, the bright lights stole his vision altogether for a second.
A massive man with a neatly trimmed Wolverine-like beard and ‘do stared intently for a long time without a word. Hunter stared back, refusing to fill the void with chatter. The guy wore jeans and a threadbare T-shirt as though he’d been interrupted mid vacation. Or maybe he wore comfortable clothes for doling out a beatdown. Time would tell. The wedding hunk of metal on the guy’s left ring finger would hurt like a bitch.
Finally, the man extended his hand. “I’m Baine McCord.”
“Hunter Masters.” He shook the hand of the commander of the European headquarters for the Base Branch.
McCord walked to the other side of the table, dragged the chair back, and sat. “Where the hell have you been, Masters, and what happened to your leg?”
For more hours than Hunter could track, he told the story of following Tor Royan through a maze of tunnels until deciding to come in and most things between. The part about Kat being a Royan garnered no reaction. The things Hunter left out or glossed over, McCord attacked point blank. What he refused to answer—the personal stuff between him and Kat—the commander doubled back on from every angle.
They blew through thousands of tactical questions. Hunter drew out the path they’d taken to the safe house and mapped a course to Tor Royan’s home base. It gave him purpose and a sense of duty he probably wouldn’t find after this was all said and done.
McCord called a water break, handed his notes and Hunter’s map to someone on the other side of the door, and then closed it.
“Is Kat still in questioning?” Hunter was used to long Q&A sessions, but Kat wasn’t. By her own admission, she rarely dealt with people on a long-term basis. She’d be fatigued, for sure, and possibly close to her breaking point.
“Do you love her?” The commander might as well have kicked the chair out from under his ass and pinned him to the floor with a boot to his throat.
Hunter stared at him be-fucking-wildered by the question.
“It’s obvious you care about her.” McCord crossed his arms over his chest. “What I need to know is if given a choice between your duty and your woman, who would you choose?”
“She’s not my woman.” Hunter’s head shook in direct defiance of his words. “She’s her own woman.” Was he trying to convince himself? No. His duty came above everything. “I put duty before my own life.”
“What about hers?” McCord asked.
Hunter stood so quickly he forgot about his prosthetic leg. He wobbled but used the table for balance. The only hope he had against a man of McCord’s stature was getting him on the ground.
A smile—the first hint of humanity—crept onto the commander’s lips. He held both palms up. “Settle down. No one’s going to hurt Katrin.” McCord tried to rub the full-out grin away but failed.
Hunter wanted to knock it off his face.
“I have my answer.” He chuckled. “Even if you don’t realize yours yet.”
What the fuck was that supposed to mean?
“Since you’re up and I’m tired of talking, let’s take a walk.” McCord opened the door, and they returned to the elevator. He depressed the button for the underground parking garage.
“Where’s Kat?”
“Safe.”
“Specifically,” Hunter demanded.
“Look...” The commander swung his wide frame around. Hunter braced himself for a fight or the bullet to come. Maybe the guy didn’t buy his recounting of events. “I read your file. I don’t know what it’s like to grow up with no one who cares about you. My mom saved me from that fate, but my father took her away from me. So I know how it is to grow up trusting only yourself.” McCord shrugged. “It’s a defense mechanism. It works like a charm, too, until you find someone worthy of your trust. Their presence shows you just how alone you are.”
The doors opened, and the commander walked out as though he hadn’t said a word during the ride. Hunter had no choice but to follow along confused and irritated. The fucker still hadn’t told him where Kat was or how she was. A sleek car idled at the end of the sidewalk.
Where were they taking him? Would he ever see Kat again?
Hunter’s heart beat out of his chest. He didn’t know where the fuck or what the fuck, but he was ready to tear the place apart to find her. His body tensed to spring.
The honeyed sound of Kat’s laughter filtered through his mania. His head snapped right toward the waiting car. She sat in the back seat, covering her mouth and giggling as though she hadn’t a care in the world. He nearly plowed over McCord in his rush to get to her. When she saw him, her hand fell away from her mouth, revealing the brilliant smile she had just for him.
He sat beside her without instruction. Her hand clamped around his. Wherever she was going so was he. He couldn’t look into any of the deeper meaning bullshit. But he knew that without a doubt.
Law sat behind the wheel. He’d changed from his fatigues into more casual attire. Kat too looked fresh and content. McCord crammed himself into the front seat, and they pulled away from the curb.
“Where are we going?” Hunter needed to know.
“To a place scarier than you’ve imagined.” McCord laughed.
“That’s for sure.” Law snorted.
22
Kat sat with Hunter to her left at the end of a six-top breakfast table in the center of a massive kitchen. Mostly empty dishes with remnants of delicious roast, potatoes, and carrots cluttered the space between her and Law. He crouched on the ground on the other side of the table with his jaw hanging near his knees. Magdalena, Law’s wife, stood clutching his hands over her swollen belly.
“I can feel…” Law squealed with a level of excitement Kat had never seen in a grown man. Especially one who commanded a room the way this one did. “Bloody brilliant.”
Around Kat and Hunter, the room erupted in whoops and hollers.
“Is that an arm?” Law gazed up at his wife, wonderment contorting his features.
“Hell if I know.” Magdalena giggled and shrugged. Her blonde hair fell over her shoulders.
“I want to feel.” Sloan McCord, Baine’s stunning wife, scrambled up from her perch on her husband’s lap. She weaved around Law but waited patiently behind him for her turn.
“I want to feel!” Alma, the oldest of Baine and Sloan’s adopted daughters, jumped to her feet. Next to Kat, the two little girls, Alma and Alisa, wrestled their way into the small gap between their two chairs.
“No, me first.” Alisa, the youngest, thrust a pointy elbow into Alma’s ribs in an effort to get ahead.
“Neither of you feel anything until you eat your supper.” Baine’s deep timbre stopped them cold. They sat in two little heaps of dejection. Their large pitiful eyes filled with moisture almost on cue.
“None of that.” Sloan pressed her hand to Magdalena’s belly. Her face was a mixture of awe and parental determination. “If you hadn’t interrogated Kat and Hunter, you’d have been finished eating twenty minutes ago.”
Alisa’s big brown eyes slid to Kat in raw accusation. Kat slid to the back of her chair, giving the girl a clear shot of Hunter.
“That’s cool. Give me up to the enemy.” H
is strong arm hooked around her neck and pulled her in front of him like a shield.
Alma climbed onto her chair, spun around backward, and rocked it onto two feet rodeo style. Alisa continued her stare down.
“She has baby dolls,” Kat whispered, “and she’s not afraid to use them.”
“It’s her most devious torture tactic.” Baine nodded.
“Well, here’s mine.” Sloan straightened from Magdalena’s belly, flicked her long ponytail off her shoulder, and zeroed her amber eyes in on the girls. The woman had the most striking features Kat had ever seen. Her skin was a perfect mix of light and dark.
If she and Hunter had a baby, it would have the same stunning complexion.
The moment the thought flew through Kat’s mind, she screamed it out the door. What the hell? All this togetherness, the family atmosphere where no blood was shared, did crazy things to her brain. It made her think impossible things were possibilities.
“Sit and eat, or no book before bedtime.” Sloan’s edict met with two gasps. The girls sat in the chairs and grabbed their respective utensils.
“Man, that’s low.” Law scooped two handfuls of dishes and headed to the sink, shaking his head. Before he got out of reach, Magdalena smacked his butt.
“I know, right,” Baine agreed.
“It’s the only thing that works.” Sloan tossed her hands into the air.
“Have you tried electroshock?” Law asked over his shoulder.
“It wouldn’t faze them.” A prideful grin stretched Baine’s mouth.
“Who would have thought such deadly operatives would be reduced to such deviant behavior?” Hunter chuckled. “No bedtime story.”
“Seriously.” Magdalena grabbed two plates and headed in her husband’s direction.
“So you all live here?” Kat asked. The old colonial mansion was certainly large enough to accommodate them all. Heck, on her way to the bathroom, she’d seen a dining table large enough to seat the entire surgical staff at her old hospital.
“Yes.” Baine nodded. “I grew up here with my mother and grandfather. When my mother died, he left the place to me before he passed.” He pulled Sloan atop his lap and patted her leg. “It’s the perfect place for our unconventional family.”
Hunter’s gaze bobbed back and forth between the two couples, thinking probably close to the same thing as Kat. She didn’t have the daring Hunter had to ask without actually asking.
“No.” Sloan hugged her husband in a blatant act of possession.
Law chuckled at the sink. “Yeah, nope.”
“Well.” Kat stood and grabbed her and Hunter’s plates. She needed something to break the awkwardness, though she was the only one who seemed to experience it.
“No, you don’t.” Magdalena tsked. “It’s Law’s turn to clean up dinner. We all have our nights, and last time it was his turn, we caught him bribing the girls with ice cream to clean the kitchen.”
“I still don’t see what’s wrong with that.” Law shrugged.
“He’ll take those.” Magdalena stole the dishes from Kat, brought them to Law, and then returned to Kat’s side. “I’m sure you two are tired. I’ll show you to your rooms…or room?” The pregnant woman’s brows waggled.
“Room,” Hunter declared without consulting Kat. She should have been embarrassed. After all, she was the daughter of a man their organization sought to capture at best or kill at worst. A shiver crawled down her spine, but the warmth of his claim on her—as small and insignificant as it was—chased away the sorrow.
He stood. Every eye in the room went to Hunter’s prosthetic leg except hers.
“Wow.” Alisa gasped. Her chubby little index finger pointed at the anomaly.
Alma’s eyes grew to the size of the Goodyear Blimp.
Baine and Sloan’s gazes locked in an expression of sheer terror that looked unparalleled to any they’d seen in the field.
The girls had been upstairs getting their baths before such a late meal. When they’d come into the kitchen, Hunter had already been sitting at the table, and their minds had been on food and inquiry.
“He has a robot leg,” Alma squealed.
Magdalena covered her mouth.
Law winced.
Kat held her breath.
Hunter eyed both of the girls for a split second. His hips shook slowly at first, and then gained speed and waggle. He picked up one foot, and then the other, jerking the rhythm of the robot that worked its way up his body. It was so spot-on Kat felt a twinge of jealousy that—even down a leg—he could dance ten times better than she could.
“It’s so cool,” Alma screamed.
“Awesome,” Alisa cheered.
Their tiny hips wiggled, and their butts shimmied. The room erupted in whoops and hollers. Law attempted to shake it.
“Save it for the bedroom, big boy.” Magdalena planted her hands on his hips, holding him still.
Baine looked at Sloan, and his hands shot high. “Don’t worry. I haven’t met my quota for all that.” He shook the cup holding a finger of brandy in his hand.
After the girls closely inspected the robot leg, Law ushered them off to bed.
Baine stood and offered Hunter his hand. “Sorry for the ice routine earlier. I had to figure you out.”
“Did you?” Kat asked. “I’ve been trying to do that for months now and can’t say I’m any closer than when I started.”
“People aren’t nearly as complicated as we give them credit for.” Bain winked at her.
Hunter shook Baine’s hand. “Thank you for putting us up tonight.”
“We’re not putting you up; we’re protecting you, both of you, until the situation is resolved.”
“Resolved?” Kat needed to know what he meant.
“Until Tor Royan and his organization are no longer a threat. Now that we know where to look, thanks to your intel”—his finger bobbed between them—“we know he’s actively seeking you.”
“He’s my father. I didn’t withhold that in my interview,” Kat explained.
Baine nodded. “His intentions aren’t that of a father.”
Hunter’s fingers wrapped around hers. He pulled her closer and addressed Baine. “I’d like in on the operation.”
“I know you would.” Baine might have known that, but Kat didn’t. Her heart plummeted. If she had to choose between her father and her…Hunter, she knew exactly who she’d choose. She just didn’t want to.
“Don’t tell me it’s my leg,” Hunter growled.
“I won’t because it’s not the issue.” Baine scraped a hand over his beard.
“What is?” Hunter demanded.
Baine’s dark gaze dropped to their joined hands. “You’re too close to this.”
Kat expected him to toss her hand away and denounce the charge. Her lungs seized in preparation for the blow.
Hunter’s breath hissed through his nostrils.
“We don’t kill for vengeance, and we don’t show mercy when it’s not warranted because we care about someone close to them,” Baine offered.
“It’s a narrow line we live on.” Sloan stepped closer and hooked her arm around Baine’s, looked up at him, and then returned her gaze to them. “We live on it, so we can live with ourselves. Were this any other operation, you’d know that. Because it’s different, you’re too close to see it.”
Hunter squeezed Kat’s hand. “True enough.”
“You two sleep well, and we’ll see you in the morning.” Sloan waved them off.
“Follow me.” Magdalena motioned them toward the back door.
Whether for ease of travel or the fact he could release her hand without making a scene, Hunter let go of her hand. Her entire limb grew cold in an instant. Icy shards crept toward Kat’s heart and corrupted her mind.
Magdalena led the way across a gravel drive and into a quaint coachhouse. Where the mansion boasted beveled glass, gold leafing, and spectacularly high ceilings, the cottage possessed a comfort only a tiny fireplace, hugging low ceilings,
and a mixture of textures could possess.
“This is lovely,” Kat breathed.
“Thank you.” Magdalena walked through, turning on lamps as she went to add to the light of the one left burning in the living room. “I grew up here. Baine was my adopted brother of sorts. My father lived and worked here for Mr. McCord for fifty-five years.”
“I’m sorry.” Kat couldn’t imagine losing her father, and he wasn’t half the father Magdalena’s was. The pictures that filled the mantels proved that much.
“Please. He’s not dead.” Magdalena snickered. “Far from it. He’s living with his girlfriend a few hours from here.”
“Oh.” She gasped.
“Our bags?” Hunter asked about the ruck and backpack by the door.
“Yes, bring them up.” Magdalena led them up the stairs. More family photos cluttered the wall and short hallway that led to a master suite. “He had taken care of us for long enough. It was time for us to do it on our own.” Her petite hand patted her belly. “Well, not on our own exactly. We’d finally found our paths, which allowed him to follow his.”
“That’s…” Surprising and sudden emotion clogged Kat’s throat. She swallowed it down. “That’s awesome.”
What would it have been like to have a family, a father who cared for her? Anyone, for that matter. Apart from her career, she was utterly alone in the world. Her entire body frosted over, making her an actual desolate tundra.
23
Hunter watched Kat’s brilliant smile fade incrementally from the kitchen to the house. The deeper they moved through the cozy space, the more dull it became until it wasn’t there at all. Her arms hugged her middle as though she were freezing in the tepid setting.
“Thank you, Magdalena.” Hunter dropped their bags by a dresser, stepped forward, and offered his hand.
The feisty woman nodded. Her gaze slid to Kat who sat on the edge of the bed and shriveled in on herself like a plant left without water or sunlight. “I’ll lock up after myself.”
Captor Mine (Base Branch Series Book 13) Page 16
