Spies & Stilettos: A MacKenzie Family Novel, Book 18 (The MacKenzie Family)

by Liliana Hart

  All good things come to an end.

  With her decision made, Elena jotted detailed notes for Willa to follow in securing Declan’s instructions for their mission in Somalia. It was time for Willa to be given more responsibility if the MacKenzies used her as a replacement once Elena left.

  She guzzled a bottle of room temperature water and allowed the emotion from the day to slip from her shoulders. Maybe she’d skip the workout and go straight for the wine. It wasn’t like anyone would know. Her tiny cabin was secluded back in the trees, away from the others. Maybe if she had enough wine, she’d just pass out and sleep a whole night through. Though it hadn’t worked the time she’d tried it before. In fact, it had made the nightmares worse.

  She scrolled through the communications scanner channel just in case there was any news about the missing men. Not a word. She moused over her Cryptocat app and saw the message notification.

  “So much for trust,” she said. She’d assured Declan that he’d be notified once their meeting location was secured in Mogadishu. There was no reason for him to send her another reminder.

  Elena accepted what had been taken from her by those savages seven years before, but try as she might, it was impossible to harden her heart completely. She felt the responsibility of those lives weighing on her shoulders.

  She clicked on the secure message, wondering what else Declan might have to throw at her. But it wasn’t Declan’s words that filled the screen.

  Time to come home, puta.

  The bile rose in her throat and she hunched over the console, gagging as she realized what the message meant. They weren’t all dead, as she’d been told. They’d come back for her.

  Chapter Three

  Brady looked up at the vast Montana sky and breathed deep. The stars were bright, giving off plenty of light. He was a Texas boy by birth, but he loved it here. Even the winters.

  He sat on his porch, a beer in hand, and wondered what the hell was wrong with him that he was in love with a woman who didn’t want to be loved. He’d barely had the thought when he saw the woman in question moving through the dark like a thief, a duffel bag slung over her shoulder.

  “Elena, where are you going?” Brady called after her.

  “I’ve had enough,” she said, picking up her pace.

  “What do you mean you’ve had enough? Who will watch the board?”

  “Fuck the board,” she said. “If you care so much about the board, then you watch it.”

  “What the hell?” he said, confused. He sprinted up ahead of her along the paved pathway that ran throughout the complex. Chirps of crickets and the occasional flare from lightning bugs added a charming background to an otherwise tense encounter.

  “What is going on, Elena?”

  She stopped short of running into him, but didn’t answer.

  He gently touched her shoulder and then dropped his hand to his side when she flinched. There were tears in her eyes, and for a brief moment he saw the terrified young woman he’d rescued seven years before. Something was horribly wrong.

  “I don’t know who did it, but I won’t stay here,” she said. “Someone would have to hate me to do something like that. It had to be someone with the ability to get into Declan’s private account. The only people I know who could do that work for MacKenzie Security.”

  “What are you talking about? What happened?”

  She turned around, and he thought she was going to run in the other direction, but she stood there staring into the night.

  “Elena, why won’t you talk to me? I’m your friend. I’ve always been your friend. You can trust me with your life.”

  She nodded and he watched as she physically tried to get herself under control. He’d never seen her like this. It was clear someone had done something horrible to her, but the question was who. The people who worked for MacKenzie Security were honorable men and women. None of them would breach Declan’s account. But someone had. And that meant MacKenzie Security could have bigger problems than they thought.

  Elena was anxious to respond to the message. It would take more than one line to smoke out a rat. Besides, why in the world would the cartel ever imagine she’d leave the United States? It didn’t make any sense. The MacKenzies had killed Alexander Ramos and the cartel had disbanded.

  She couldn’t trust herself. Whoever had sent the message had known exactly the right button to push to make her lose control. If it really was the cartel, they’d intercepted Declan’s transmissions and taken over his server.

  “Elena?” Brady said. “Have you heard one word I said?”

  “I’m sorry, Brady. I’ve just got too much on my mind.” Her chest heaved and her knees were shaking. So much for spending all those years building her strength and training. At the first sign of her past coming back to haunt her, she was nothing but weak. “You should just go back to whatever you were doing. I’m fine. I need to be alone right now. You’re crowding me.”

  She barely caught the hurt that flashed in his eyes. And then he stiffened.

  “Sure, no problem,” he said. “I’ll give you your space. Didn’t know I’d been crowding you.”

  Brady slipped off the pavement and disappeared into the night without a sound, every inch the lethal warrior. Her heart ached. She’d just hurt the one true friend she really had. But the MacKenzies had risked enough for her. If it really was the cartel trying to get in touch with her, she had to keep it a secret. They were too dangerous, and she’d be damned if she put any other lives at stake.

  Her mind spun back to the message. It was bait. She knew it and she also knew better than to bite. But it was eating away at her. If it was Declan, then she’d have her say. If it was the cartel, then she’d deal with it somehow. Either option sucked, but she had to know. She pulled out her cell phone and opened the encrypted message.

  Time to come home, puta.

  Her belly clenched again, but she willed herself not to be sick this time. Her hands were steady as she typed a reply.

  I thought I was home.

  Her head snapped up and she looked out into the darkness of the trees, where she expected to see the whites of eyes staring back at her. What if they were watching for her reaction? A cold spike of fear snaked its way up her spine to her scalp, the tingling almost unbearable.

  “Get a grip, Elena.”

  She hurried back to her cabin, tightening the grip on her duffel. It had been foolish to try to leave the compound right then. An emotional reaction, not well thought out. Besides, Brady wouldn’t have let her leave.

  She locked the door and tugged down the shades, tossing her smartphone and duffel on the table and quickly dimming the lights. A thick quilt was folded over the back of the sofa and she grabbed it, wrapping it around her shivering body. Her teeth chattered and her skin was chilled.

  She’d lived on the complex since arriving in America. Besides her niece, who lived in a Catholic convent outside of Mexico City, she had no other family. The compound was so vast that all full-time employees had cabins on the property, and there were guest cabins for the frequent visitors.

  Declan had never been convinced the cartel wouldn’t re-form, and if they did, the MacKenzies would be on their list for revenge. Even in the heartland of the United States, the cartel’s tentacles stretched far beyond its borders. So security was tight at the compound, but that fact didn’t do anything to alleviate her fear.

  Her phone buzzed and she froze in surprise. The rustic décor of the mountain cabin featured a heavy copper-topped coffee table, and the sound of bouncing hard plastic resonated throughout the open-air space.

  “Damn it,” she said. “Jumping at shadows.”

  The shivering got so bad her eyes grew heavy. Maybe she could get a little sleep. She pulled her long, black hair into a ponytail and kicked her shoes across the heated floor.

  The smartphone buzzed again, but she was too comfortable to bother getting up to grab it. She knew it was wrong, but she’d seen Brady’s number pop up, and she ju
st didn’t have the emotional reserves to engage. Guilt gnawed at her.

  She wished she could feel what she should feel when a man like Brady showed her the kind of kindness and attention he had. The cartel had stripped her of the ability to be vulnerable. She was ashamed of her body and the horrible things they’d done to her, of the scars that were a constant reminder. She felt unworthy to even offer herself to another person. How could he ever understand what she’d gone through?

  Her shivering was so violent the couch was shaking, and she tried to let out a breath of annoyance, but her teeth were chattering too hard. She tossed the quilt aside and moved to the thermostat, feeling ridiculous for turning on the heat in the middle of July.

  The phone continued to buzz, but she ignored it and moved to the kitchen. She uncorked a bottle of red wine and poured it into a wide-bowled glass.

  “Persistent much?” she asked, rolling her eyes.

  She snatched up the phone and folded herself back into the over-stuffed chair, thumbing through emails and social media messages and ignoring the texts that were collecting.

  Again, her heart ached that there was no word from the Merca team outside of Somalia. She did reply to Willa’s email update on the locations secured for Declan and crew to base their operations.

  The phone buzzed again, and she noticed it was another encrypted message.

  Your home is here. With us. Do you miss us, puta?

  She set the crystal glass on the rustic-looking coffee table. The liquid swished close to the top but didn’t spill. She needed a plan of action. The fact remained that these messages were coming from Declan’s account. An account that had top security clearance.

  It seemed like her welcome had worn out. If not with Declan, then with someone who had access to his account. She guzzled the half-glass of merlot, feeling the warmth permeate her body.

  “Screw this,” she said, emboldened, and started typing.

  Okay, I get the hint. I quit

  She couldn’t stop the tears. Her anger wasn’t enough to forget the kindness and love the entire MacKenzie family and crew had shown her from the very moment they rescued her. It would be tough, but she’d been through tougher and survived.

  You cannot quit. We’ve not begun.

  The quick response chilled her blood. Elena glanced around the room before jumping up to skirt back to the front door to make sure it was locked. It was. She emptied the remaining merlot into her glass. Her nerves were frayed, but she wanted the release.

  What the hell was going on? That was definitely not something Declan, or any of the MacKenzies, would ever say. Angry with her or not, they cared about others. It had to be a hacker, she thought.

  “Probably some geeky teenager.” Though that wouldn’t explain how they knew what the cartel had done to her.

  I’ve had enough of this game. Drop dead, she furiously typed out.

  Dropping dead is not an option, puta.

  Oh yeah, why not? Elena replied.

  Whoever was on the other end of the message sent an image file, and her finger shook as she clicked it. And when the familiar picture came into view, nausea roiled in her belly and her wine glass dropped to the floor.

  She recognized the dusty, trash-filled alleyway. The rundown shacks that lined each side and the dumpster that reeked of rotten food. She blinked, trying to clear the image, but the picture was still there.

  Seeing it brought her back, taking her down a long, dark tunnel she wasn’t sure she’d be able to escape from again. The first backhand had had her seeing stars, and the punch to her abdomen had doubled her over with pain. They’d ripped at her clothes while she’d tried desperately to take a breath, and when she’d finally been able to suck in air, someone had hit her again, taking her to her knees.

  Blood had pooled in her mouth as she’d knelt in the dirt like a dog, fear and disbelief smothering her as the men had circled around her. She’d never forget the sound of the leather belt sliding through belt loops. Never forget the feel of the first sting as the leather struck her back.

  The man with the belt had enjoyed the pain he’d inflicted because he’d kept doing it. But even through the pain, she hadn’t taken her eyes off the others. She’d been a virgin. And she’d never seen a naked man. They’d disrobed with an efficiency that let her know they weren’t in a hurry. They’d known no one would interrupt them. No one touched the cartel and lived to tell about it.

  Whimpers escaped her throat as they closed in on her, and she shut her eyes, shaking her head back and forth, knowing it wasn’t real. She tried to move, to escape, but the flashback had hold of her and wouldn’t let go. She only managed to fall from the couch onto the floor, hitting her chin on the coffee table on the way down.

  She didn’t know how long she lay there, reliving the horrors, but she thought her heart might explode in her chest when she saw the red hot end of the branding iron flash in front of her face.

  Her right foot had wedged beneath the heavy leather chair, but her left leg and both arms were sprawled out. The cell continued to buzz, and her mind replayed every assault she’d endured during those horrible January days seven years ago.

  She might have blacked out for a bit, but she was still in a dark haze. Her fingers moved to her chin and sticky wetness quickly coated them. The smell of blood was strong, and bile rose in her throat. Her left hand pressed into the carpet, trying to escape—though she didn’t know from what—and jagged shards of shattered glass sliced into her palm.

  Something pounded against her door, and then the knob rattled. She tried moving her head to see what was happening, but her pounding skull caused her to groan in agony. She couldn’t move, her body paralyzed with fear.

  The continuous pounding caused the phone to tumble onto her stomach and she screamed out before tossing the blood-soaked device across the room.

  The thick oak door splintered.

  Elena felt the rush of warm air flood over her as the evening spilled in. She thought she heard Brady yell her name, but she couldn’t be sure with the blood rushing in her ears. The thick sole of his boot crushed part of her broken wine glass into fine crystals, and he knelt down beside her.

  “Oh, baby,” he said. “You’re hurt. What happened?”

  His eyes scanned the cabin’s interior, and she knew he was looking for a possible threat.

  She tried to speak, but the words didn’t come. She was still gasping for air.

  “Take it easy,” he said. “Focus on breathing. In and out.” His voice was soothing—hypnotic—and he kept his gaze steadily on hers until she got herself under control.

  “I…I fell out of the chair,” she finally managed to get out.

  “We can go with that for now,” he said. “You’re shivering.” He pulled the thick quilt from the couch and covered her with it. “Elena, I need you to focus on me, okay?”

  His voice calmed her and she just kept looking into the green depths of his eyes. There was compassion there. And worry. But he was with her, and that’s what mattered.

  “I’m going to have to touch you,” he said. “I don’t want to scare you. Tell me when you’re ready, okay?”

  “I…I’m okay,” she stuttered, teeth chattering.

  “No, baby, but you will be. Hold tight.” He moved slowly so she could see what he was doing and put his arms beneath her. He lifted her from the rug and stood to his full height. Any other time, she would’ve been impressed by his strength.

  He set her gently in the chair, and she realized she was still crying. She couldn’t seem to stop the tears from streaming down her face. Brady left her and went to the kitchen, and she heard him digging through her drawers. When he came back, he knelt down in front of her, holding a damp towel. He held it gently to her chin, pressing slightly to stop the bleeding, and using his other hand to wipe the wetness from her cheeks.

  “You need stitches,” he said, removing the towel to check the cut.

  “No, it’ll be fine. I’ve got some super glue in the b
athroom.” She tried to push his hands away so she could get up, but he blocked her. It was becoming more and more imperative that she get the hell out of Surrender, Montana, as fast as she could. They’d found her. She had to run. Had to hide.

  “I’ve got to get out of here,” she said. “I can’t stay here any longer. Let me go.”

  She tried to get to her feet again, but she was too weak. She could barely lift her arms.

  “Baby, I don’t know what’s going on, but you’re out of your mind if you think I’m going to let you leave here in this condition. You need a doctor. You’ve got cuts on your hands and wrist from the wine glass. And you’re in shock. Your pupils are dilated and you’re shaking. Your skin is cold to the touch. You need to talk to me. Were you attacked?”

  She shook her head, but averted her eyes. How could she answer that? She hadn’t been attacked in the here and now. But it had been an attack. And it had felt as real as it had seven years ago.

  “I see,” he said, as if he’d read her mind. “I’ll call Thomas.”

  “No,” she said, grasping his arm. “I can’t deal with any more MacKenzies.” Not until she found out for sure what was happening with Declan’s secure account.

  Brady pulled back. “I don’t understand what’s going on here, Elena. The MacKenzies have always been there for you. Sure, Declan’s a little pissed at what happened with Alpha Team, but he’d never betray you or do you wrong. He’s a good man.”

  She turned her head from his piercing gaze. “All I can trust is what I see with my own eyes. You’ll never understand. Just leave me alone.” Her voice rose in volume, but broke, lessening the impact of the order. “I have to go,” she repeated. She pressed both palms into her temples and rocked back and forth. The tears wouldn’t subside. Why had she thought she could live a normal life? Coming to Surrender had only been running from what she’d feared most. And, as she was finding out, what she feared would eventually catch up with her.