by Liliana Hart
“I am first and foremost your friend,” he told her. “I’ve always been your friend, even when you didn’t want it. I will not leave you alone. We’re your family.”
The finality in his voice had her closing her eyes. She just wanted to curl into a ball and sleep forever. Maybe she could. Brady disappeared and came back a couple of minutes later with more clean hand towels and her cell phone. Her heart sank.
“Please don’t do this,” she said. “I’m fine. I have to go.” Her head and limbs were so heavy she could barely sit upright in the chair. She couldn’t even seem to keep her eyes open.
There were tears in his eyes when he lifted his phone to his ear. “I’m sorry, baby. But it’s for your own good.”
Her head lolled back on the chair in defeat and she let exhaustion take her.
Chapter Four
More than twenty-hours passed before she opened her eyes to glaring sunlight peeking between the slatted blinds.
She was groggy, almost hungover, and it took a minute for her eyes to adjust. She recognized the secured facility that housed the MacKenzie hospital and R&D labs. She hated hospitals, despite the fact that there was no better in the world than the facility she was in. The machine she was hooked up to started beeping faster as panic took hold of her. The memories she had of hospitals weren’t good.
Her memories of the night before were fuzzy. She remembered the flashback. More vivid and intense than any she’d experienced in years. It had caught her totally off guard, and she’d crumbled as if it had been the first time. She remembered Brady, and she vaguely remembered Thomas MacKenzie arriving. He’d said she was in shock and that her vitals were out of control. Then she remembered nothing.
She felt for the bandages beneath her chin, her IV pulling in the crook of her arm. Her right wrist and arm were covered in bandages, and she seemed to be connected to every machine possible with a tangle of wires.
“Let me out of here,” she said, trying to lift up to a sitting position.
She collapsed back against her pillow, shaky and weak. Whatever drugs she’d been given were making her lethargic. And she had a hell of a headache. Her hand at the side of the bed reached for the remote, and she hit the nurse call button.
“You rang?” Tess MacKenzie said, coming in with a chart in hand. “I was wondering when you were going to wake up. You obviously needed the sleep.”
“I was drugged,” Elena said. “Not exactly a refreshing night’s rest.”
“It was nothing but a local,” Tess said. “Combined with your overall exhaustion, though, you probably feel like you’ve been run over by a truck.”
“I’ve got a hell of a headache.”
“You’ve got to take better care of yourself. Why haven’t you told anyone you’re having nightmares and flashbacks? If you think PTSD is something only cops and soldiers suffer from, you’d be wrong. What happened to you before isn’t something that’s just going to go away if you don’t deal with it.”
“I’ve dealt with it,” Elena said stiffly. “My body healed. I went to counseling. Now I really need to get out of here.”
“Elena…” Tess said softly.
“I don’t need your pity,” Elena said. “Just let me out. I’ve got a million things to do.”
Tess arched a brow and crossed her arms over her chest. “You’ve known me a long time. I wouldn’t say pity was part of my makeup. Compassion? Yes. But not pity. I didn’t pity Shane while he busted his ass to walk again. You think I’m going to pity you because you’ve worked yourself into exhaustion and you’ve got a busted chin? Sister, please. That doesn’t mean I can’t hurt for you because I can see the torment you’re going through. We can all see it. But you’ve never let any of us close enough to try and help you heal.”
“What am I supposed to say?” Elena asked, feeling the tears threaten to fall. “How can I not remember what they made of me? Every time I look at my body, the marks are there. They made sure I’d never forget. And I can’t. No amount of help from anyone is going to change that.”
“I don’t believe that. The people here love you. But you’ve done nothing but stonewall and reject us.”
“I need to go,” Elena whispered. Why couldn’t they understand that she’d had no choice? Why would she let them in so they could feel the same horrors she felt on a daily basis? She wouldn’t wish that on her worst enemy. And especially not on the people she cared about. No, it was better to keep her wall up than expose them to the memories she kept locked away. Even if they didn’t understand that this was her way of protecting them.
“You’re free to go, Elena. And not that you’ll listen to doctor’s orders, but you need to take a few days off. I’ve got a couple of prescriptions for you. Something that’ll help with the anxiety and something that’ll help you get caught up on sleep. You can take Tylenol for the headache. A nurse will be in to take out your IV and disconnect you from everything. We gave you several bags of fluids. You were dehydrated. Brady brought you some clean clothes,” Tess said, pointing to the chair in the corner. Then she walked out without looking backward.
As it should be.
“Shit,” Elena said, trying to take her mind off of the friend she’d just lost. Could she have embarrassed herself in front of Brady more than she already had?
Everything was too much, just building and building inside of her, and she felt like her skin was being stretched to the point it would eventually burst open.
There was a knock on the door and her head snapped up.
“I hear they’re springing you,” Brady said, entering the room tentatively. His smile was strained.
“Yeah,” she said. “I don’t suppose you could give me a ride out of this place?”
“I’m at your service,” he said. “That’s the great thing about leave time. I can do what the hell I want, when I want to do it.”
Her head pounded. She only knew one thing for sure and that was that the cartel had found her. It was the only possible explanation for the photos that were sent. No one who worked for MacKenzie Security would have done something so cruel, and she felt shame that even for a second she’d had the thought that they had.
She’d been alone for so long she didn’t even know how to approach the topic of what had happened the night before, but Brady didn’t give her the opportunity to try.
“While we’re waiting for them to unhook you, it seems like a good time to talk about what I saw on your phone last night. How long has this been going on? And why the hell didn’t you tell anyone?”
She could see the anger in him now. How had she not noticed he’d been concealing it when he’d first come in?
Her shoulders stiffened at the reminder of what he would’ve seen on her phone. It was hard for her to see it. She’d been unrecognizable as a human.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” she said.
“Fine. Whatever you want.”
“Really?” she asked, skepticism lacing her voice. She pushed herself upright a little more, stronger than she’d been after first waking up. “You’ll let it go? Just like that?”
He was still angry, but he approached her slowly, sitting on the edge of the bed. She knew deep down that Brady would never hurt her. He’d earned her trust over the years, but she didn’t know how to show him that she trusted him. She didn’t know how to extend an olive branch and accept his friendship—any of the friendships she’d been offered. She just wasn’t equipped to deal with the emotional aspect that bringing other people into her life would entail.
“Yeah, just like that,” he said. “I’ve tiptoed around you these last years. My heart breaks for you every damned day, and you have no idea the guilt I feel right now because I thought every last one of those bastards that had touched you was dead. We hunted them. But we clearly missed someone, or several someones.
“I’m not afraid to admit that you scare the hell out of me on some levels. I enjoy being with you. When you don’t have that stick up your ass, you’re fun and fu
nny. I’ve overheard you joking around with Willa and a couple of the other girls, but only when your guard is down.
“I’ve done everything in my power to make you feel comfortable around me, but I’ve never had the courage to be the kind of friend where you could tell me about that night. Or the courage to listen. I do remember what it was like when we found you, and I’ve never been the same. I’d met you before, when you came to us with the intel, and I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t been thinking about those few flirtatious exchanges we’d had. I think how things would’ve been different if we’d brought you into protection instead of letting you go home.”
Her heart almost stopped in her chest at the anguish in his voice. She’d forgotten about that initial attraction between them—hadn’t let herself remember those times.
“Brady, no, it wasn’t anyone’s fault but the men responsible for raping me.” She wanted to reach out to him, and her hand moved, but she stopped just short of touching him and let her hand fall back to the bed.
“I just don’t know what to do anymore, Elena. It’s driving me crazy. We’ve had these moments over the years…these moments where we just…connect. I know you feel it too because that’s usually when you get scared and get that stick back up your ass.”
Her lips twitched at that because she knew it was true.
“I saw that shit on your cell last night, and I was so fucking pissed. And at the same time it was everything I could do not to take you in my arms and just hold you until the nightmares went away.”
“You can’t understand, Brady. This is my burden. No one else can carry it.”
“Are you fucking serious?” he said. “I can’t understand? After all the hell I’ve experienced in my life with the SEALs, seeing you in that street is still the hardest thing I’ve ever had to deal with. My heart broke that day, and it’ll remain in pieces until I know yours is healed.” He opened the door but glared back at her. “I’ve been your friend through all of this. Don’t insult me like that. I deserve better. I’ll wait out here until the nurse releases you. Just think about it, Elena.”
A tightness settled over her chest when he walked away. She could feel the fragile threads of the life she’d been weaving together over the last seven years start to unravel. She needed help. And asking for it was the hardest thing she could ever do.
The car ride back to the MacKenzie compound was made in silence. When they approached the massive gates, Brady typed in the code and scanned his thumbprint on the metal plate, and then the gates opened and they drove through. Brady nodded at the guards on duty.
He took the path away from the main houses, where the MacKenzies had made their homes, and toward the smattering of cabins and HQ. He parked the Jeep in front of her house and left it running, and then he got out and unlocked her front door for her.
She was steadier on her feet and followed him up the stairs and into the small space. It was just a one-bedroom cabin, with a single bath and living room and kitchen. It was all she needed. Brady did a quick walk-through to make sure everything was okay and then went back out onto the porch.
“I’ve got some errands to run,” he said, putting on his sunglasses and getting back into the Jeep. He drove off, leaving her standing there on the threshold.
“I guess he’s still pissed,” she said, watching the back of the Jeep disappear down the road.
She noticed the door had been replaced where he’d kicked it in and she shut and locked it behind her. Looking around the room, it was as if nothing unusual had happened the night before. The rug had been cleaned and the glass removed. Brady did deserve so much more—but she feared she wasn’t the one to give it to him.
There was one item missing from the coffee table—her cell phone. She needed that cell phone. Staying in contact was priority. She looked on the kitchen counters and then went into the bedroom, breathing a sigh of relief when she saw the phone on her bedside table. Next to it was a sticky note with one word written on it—sleep.
It sounded like a good idea and she smiled at the thoughtfulness. She crawled onto the mattress and let herself sink in. It was a welcome relief from the hospital bed. Her body ached, and whatever was left over in her system was making her sleepy. The nurse had given her the two prescription bottles before she’d left, but she was determined not to take them. She’d tried medicating the pain while she’d been in therapy, and the drugs had only made the nightmares worse, keeping her inside the private hell of her sleep so she couldn’t wake up.
Elena pulled the covers over her and curled to her side. She wasn’t sure what to do next, but one thing she did know was that she was indeed secure on the MacKenzies’ complex. Even if the cartel tried to snatch her back, they’d never breach the world-class security systems or trained warriors who lived and worked on site.
Emboldened by the thought, she reached for her phone on the nightstand. She activated the Cryptocat app and jabbed at the keys to show the cartel she wouldn’t fall for their intimidation tricks. She was tired of being the prey.
Go play your games with someone else. I’m through with this. Don’t contact me again.
She waited almost twenty minutes for a reply. Maybe they’d grown tired of the cat and mouse charade. She fell asleep with that thought on her mind. But then the familiar buzz against her chest woke her. She held up the phone so she could see their reply.
Wrong. Game is just beginning. Time to come home, puta. You know where to find us. We never went far from home.
The cartel had acquired one of the largest Mayan temples from the federales through bribes and intimidation. The majestic symbol of a once great civilization now represented nothing more than a fortified drug den and whorehouse.
I am home. I’ll never play with you, and I’ll die before I go back into that hell.
A slight hint of confidence poked its head through her response. Maybe it was the thirty-four hundred miles separating them, but she felt a strength she hadn’t felt in a long time.
Big mistake, puta. You may not play. But she will…
A sob tore from Elena’s throat as the image came on screen. It was black and white, captured from a surveillance camera. But the young woman strapped to the floor was clear to see.
She’d not seen the girl since she was a child, but they’d stayed in contact over the years. So she knew without a doubt that it was Marguerite on the floor, the coif and wimple of the nun’s headdress stark white in comparison to the black habit she wore. She was barely twenty, and if someone didn’t do something, her life would be irrevocably changed.
After the cartel had killed Elena’s father and brutalized her, Marguerite had been sent to a convent by her uncle to make sure she was protected from retaliation. It had been a wise decision, because her uncle had been gunned down only days later.
The Sisters of Our Immaculate Conception was an obscure sect of the larger Mexico City diocese. Her niece had taken the Christian name of Marguerite instead of her given name of Maria Nayal, and the ancient convent was so far removed from civilization that even Declan felt she’d be safe.
Whatever it was that the cartel wanted from Elena, they’d shown there were no limits to reaching out to her. They had already murdered her father, a renowned scientist, so what could they possibly want now? There were no notes or passcodes left behind by her dad, so to them she had only been a toy to feast upon.
She typed out a response, begging them not to touch Marguerite, but stopped before sending it. She recalled what the MacKenzies had taught her about crisis communications and negotiations. It was vital to remain calm and appear to be in control. Otherwise, the opposition knew you were emotionally desperate and vulnerable to any demand. Elena ran her hands through her hair.
Why would you do this? What do you want?
She sat up and waited for a response. A bottle of water sat on the nightstand, but her hands trembled so violently that she couldn’t hold it. Wide-eyed, Elena scanned the room for anything to help her think through the scenario.
“Fuck,” she yelled, fury coursing through her body.
She threw the water bottle as hard as she could and it hit the wall, her breath heaving. She couldn’t keep lying down. She had to move.
Her feet swung to the floor and she stood unsteadily and then walked into the living room. The headache was back in full force, and she dug in the little bag she’d gotten from the hospital until she found the Tylenol.
She waited for another response…and kept waiting…but there was nothing but silence and the haunting image they’d sent of her niece.
She heard a light tap on wood, and she jerked around, looking for the source. She checked her cell for a reply, but there was none. Confused, she looked around the room. The knock came again, but a little harder this time.
She laughed and shook her head, putting her hand to her racing heart. She was losing her mind. Someone was at the door. Her first temptation was to ignore it, but she remembered Brady’s words from before and forced herself to look through the peephole. It had taken longer to make her decision than she’d thought because Brady was already in his Jeep and driving away by the time she found the courage to open the door.
Her pocket vibrated and she grabbed the phone. More than two hours had passed without a word. Mind games…they were great at them. She couldn’t let them keep shaking her.
Time to pay up, puta. You want your niece left in one piece. We want the data.
“Data,” she said. “What data? I don’t have anything.”
Data? she questioned.
Don’t play stupid. You work for one of the most powerful companies in the world. We want access to the MacKenzie network. The data you scrape for us will be worth millions. It seems fair, considering the data was stolen from us when our network was hacked into.
Elena rested her head against the wall. Her mind reeled at the reality of their request. The MacKenzie records management system, or RMS, held top-secret-level government information. The security company Declan singlehandedly built managed many off-the-books missions the government couldn’t afford to be associated with. There was no way she’d compromise every covert security operative’s identity.
