Secrets Collide bb-5

by Kathleen Brooks

  “Let’s get out of here. There’s a little spot in the woods I know, if you’re up for an adventure.” Cy’s suggestion had her heart pounding. It had been days since she’d been with him and it had seemed like an eternity.

  After Cade and the girls left yesterday, she had met his friend Taylor. She couldn’t wait to talk to Gemma about this nice boy she had just met. And, grudgingly, Gemma had to admit she liked Taylor a lot. But when night came, Cy hadn't come to her room. Instead he had woken up every so often throughout the night to do his shift watching the house along with one of Ahmed’s men.

  As they sat next to each other in church earlier listening to Noodle (known to the Rose sisters and his own mother as Eugene Miller) and Emma Francis exchange their vows, it had turned her into a romantic mess. Gemma had held his hand and watched the ceremony envisioning what it would be like to look Cy in the eyes and say those words. She decided then that life was unpredictable and she wasn’t going to waste a second of it. She was going to tell him she loved him.

  “Okay, let’s go,” Gemma giggled as Cy grabbed her hand and tried to casually walk to the tree line.

  Cy quietly led her to the punch bowl and then slipped behind the trees when no one was looking. She had to smother her laughter with her hand as he hurried down a path to a little clearing deep within the woods. She could still barely hear the strings of bluegrass music coming from the band as Cy spread his suit coat onto the ground.

  “Dance with me,” Cy’s voice rasped as he held out his hand. She placed hers in his and laughed as he pulled her tight against him. “Gemma, there’s been something I’ve been meaning to tell you.”

  She nuzzled his neck with her lips and let him talk when in reality talking was the last thing she wanted to do. His hand slid down her back as they swayed to the music.

  “I . . .”

  “Well, isn’t this cute? The spy and the reporter.”

  Gemma spun around as Cy shoved her behind him. She looked over his shoulder at a little man with big glasses and a crazed look in his eyes.

  “Mr. Boss Man, I presume. To what do we owe this honor?” Cy asked casually as he rocked back on his heels.

  “Honor, you have no honor. You and this bitch are the downfall of society. When a man can no longer earn a living because you’re arresting his people or writing an exposé on my group, huh, Gia? I thought I had gotten rid of you once, but you know what they say about evil—it never dies. Now I’ll make sure you die, Gia,” he spat.

  “I feel introductions need to be made. I’m Cy and this is Gemma. And you are?” Cy’s casual voice turned hard and she felt him pushing her away. She looked down and saw him frantically motioning for her to run. But she couldn’t. She had to find out his name.

  “Stop playing games. Just ask Gia who I am. She figured it out, just as you did when you found my daughter. But I’ll make sure you’re both dead this time.”

  Cy shoved her and she started to run only to run straight into a solid wall of muscle. Gemma gulped as large hands clamped around her arms and she screamed in pain.

  “Ah, there you are, Sergei. Bring her to me. Don’t even think about it, Cy. Sergei will snap her neck if you move from that spot.”

  Gemma smashed her foot onto Sergei’s and fought with all she had. But Sergei just squeezed tighter; she thought her arms would snap under the pressure. Sergei shoved her into the outstretched arms of the mastermind behind her sister’s death and without thinking, she pulled back her arm and punched him in the face.

  “Bastard!” she screamed but all too soon the back of his hand connected with her face so hard that she fell to her knees. She felt him grab her and haul her up as Cy ran forward.

  “Sergei. Take care of him.”

  “No.” Gemma fought against the man’s grip. She twisted, kicked, and screamed against the hand that muffled her, but she couldn't stop this fight to the death. She kicked out once more, and screamed when the hand was removed from her mouth. But this time her scream was cut short as a cold metal object was pressed against her neck. Electricity from the stun gun stopped her fighting instantly. Her body cramped and her legs gave out as he caught her and started dragging her deeper into the woods.

  Cy heard Gemma squeak and then drop to the ground. Sergei took advantage of the distraction and landed a solid punch to Cy’s face. His head snapped back and he lost the advantage in a split second.

  Ducking another punch, Cy leaped forward and tackled Sergei to the ground. There was no sound except the breaking of tiny branches and the occasional grunt as they rolled on the grass grappling for position. Cy managed to pin Sergei’s arm, but Sergei raised his legs and clamped them around Cy’s neck. Cy’s fingers slipped from the hold he had on Sergei and Sergei tossed him to the ground. Before Cy could catch his breath, Sergei had him in a chokehold.

  “I’ll enjoy killing your girlfriend, but I won’t be so kind. I’m going to take my time,” Sergei hissed.

  Cy felt his world darkening. He knew he couldn’t break the hold and that left only one choice left if he wanted to save Gemma. He dug out his cell phone and pressed Speed Dial.

  Miles had his arms around his wife and enjoyed feeling her tiny belly growing. Her small bump pressed against his stomach as he danced with her. “Did the baby kick?” he asked, jumping back.

  Morgan giggled. “No. That’s your cell phone. The baby will kick but not for about eight more weeks.”

  With great reluctance, Miles pulled out his phone and looked with confusion at his brother’s number. “It’s Cy.” He answered the phone and listened to sounds he knew too well. “And he’s in trouble.”

  “What?” Morgan asked, but he was already running.

  “Where’s Cy?” Miles shouted to the crowd.

  “He went into the woods with Gemma,” Miss Violet told him as she wiggled her eyebrows. “Behind the punch bowl.”

  “Miles?” Marshall called out, but Miles didn’t stop to answer him. He knew his brothers would follow. He had heard the unmistakable sound of fighting and then the collapse of a body, followed by footsteps.

  Miles ran through the woods, following the small trail Cy and Gemma had taken. He burst into the small clearing and found Cy on his stomach. Evidence of a fight was all around and Gemma was missing. He put the pieces together before he even got to Cy. As he rolled him over and felt for a pulse, he heard his brothers crashing through the woods. There was still a faint pulse as Miles started CPR.

  Cy felt life flood back into him. The world had gone dark and he was sure he was dead except for the fact that he refused to leave Gemma. He felt as if he were struggling between life and death until that rush of air entered his lungs. He opened his eyes and saw Miles and Marshall over him with relief on their faces.

  “Gemma,” he choked out.

  “We know. I can follow the trail, but I think we all know where it leads. It was Sergei, wasn’t it?” Ahmed asked from the spot Cy had last seen Gemma as she was dragged away.

  “And the boss. I still couldn’t get a name. But they have her. They have Gemma and he’s crazy. He kept calling her Gia.” Cy struggled to stand up as his brothers helped him to his feet.

  “Come on. Let’s get you some water and we’ll develop a plan. We’ll get her back.” Miles led his brothers from the woods and right into the heart of a very worried town.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Gemma felt the plastic ties cutting into her wrists as she struggled against them. She sat in the back of the limousine with a gag in her mouth and the plastic zip-ties holding her hands and feet behind her back.

  “Stop struggling, Gia. It won’t be over for some time. I’m going to let Sergei have his way with you this time. Last time I told him to kill you quickly, but that obviously didn’t work. You went to my daughter again. You’re getting bolder and so must I. Sergei will take his time torturing you so you'll spill every secret you've learned about my organization. You’ll be made an example.”

  Gemma cringed at the almost gleeful look
of anticipation on his face. The only thing stopping her from utter panic was the anger she felt. She didn’t know if Cy was alive or not. Sergei came back, which couldn’t be good. This man killed her sister and may have killed the man she loved. She wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of freaking out. Instead she turned her body so he could see her hands and held up both middle fingers before calmly turning back around in her seat. When the look of excitement died from his eyes, replaced with shock and then hatred, Gemma felt strangely triumphant. She wasn’t going down easy. She was ready for the fight to come.

  * * *

  Neely Grace and Henry sat discussing what they had found with Cy, as the town discussed the current situation. “I'm waiting for one last name from a court in India, but they’re not giving it to me,” Henry told him.

  “Give me your phone.” Neely Grace held out her hand and waited for Henry to put the phone in it.

  She scrolled through the numbers and hit the one for the court in India. She waited for the phone to be answered and introduced herself. Cy shook his head. The waiting was killing him. He wanted to barge in right then and kill them. He knew they could be hurting her right now, but his brothers had been right. They needed a plan.

  “I don’t give a rat’s ass if the judge is eating lunch.” Neely’s normally calm voice rose. “You go in there right now and get him on the phone or I’ll send the embassy down on you so fast you’ll wish you were never born.” Neely Grace paused and then smiled. “Why, thank you so much for your help. Yes. I’ll hold,” she said with her best southern charm.

  “She’s so hot,” Henry said with a grin.

  “Cy, can I have a word?” Cole asked.

  “Sure, you have a plan? Is the FBI on their way?”

  “That’s what this is about. I got a call from internal affairs. I had them run an audit on all the financials of my agents. I got a ping. One of my guys just cashed a very large check from a company connected to the one Henry and Neely Grace are investigating. My office is dirty and I need to clean house. I don’t know who to trust enough to call them in. I thought this one guy was clean. They’re digging deeper and fear there may be more.”

  Cy ran his hand through his hair. This was not good. “I can call in the DEA’s office, but it may be the same. What do you want me to do?” Annie asked.

  “Cy, I got it. I got a name,” Neely Grace called from where she had stalked off to talk to the judge. The wedding reception quieted down as she hurried toward him. “Liam O’Flannigan.”

  “Got him,” Cade said as he punched away on his Smartphone. “He was born in New Jersey and attended public school until he was suddenly admitted to the top private school in the state. When he was sixteen, he dropped out of school. Then reappeared at an Ivy League college where he earned a business degree and an art history degree. It says he owns an art studio in New York City now. No mention of a family with the exception of a mother—Eloise O’Flannigan, who died of a drug overdose when he was just sixteen.”

  “Wait. That name sounds familiar,” Marcy Davies said as she snapped her fingers. “She was the Mistress of Politics. It was never proven and the news didn’t make a big deal of it. They discounted it for gossip, if I recall. But when I was a young girl in college, I liked to read those gossip rags. Anyway, there was an article about a woman who had been a mistress to some of the most powerful men in politics. It was rumored she was even the mistress of the vice president.”

  “I see it,” Cade said as he read something on his phone. “The magazine was sued and they took down the story and issued an apology. No one credited it as being truthful and the reporter even pled guilty to libel.”

  “But if that were true . . .” Kenna said.

  “It would explain where he got his connections. Now, what do we do about it?” Cy asked. “My idea is to storm the place.”

  “I like that idea. But I was thinking of something with a little more finesse,” Ahmed said as he stepped forward.

  * * *

  Tires squealed, a horn blared, and then the sound of metal hitting metal resonated through the night. The door to the beat-up Chevy Lumina creaked open as Trey Everett stepped out.

  “Oh my God, are you okay? Someone call an ambulance! Babe, call an ambulance,” Trey called to Taylor as he rushed to the large white boat-of-a-car with a smashed front end.

  The doors opened as Miss Lily and John stepped out on wobbly legs. Miss Lily gently collapsed to the ground as Trey rushed to her side. “Look what you did. You teenagers are all willy-nilly out here like you own the place. You could've killed us.”

  “Yo, man. It wasn’t me. You were the one swerving into the lane. You old people need to get your eyes checked. You’re the hazard on the road,” Trey shouted back.

  “Hey! What’s going on here?” a man in a suit asked as he walked down the driveway from the gated house.

  “I’ll tell you what’s going on. This young whippersnapper and his lady were doing the hanky-panky in the car instead of paying attention to where they were going and crashed right into us.”

  “That’s not true,” said the cute woman in shorts so short the perfect globes of her derriere showed when she bent over . . . as she did for the guard. “These old geezers couldn’t see the road in the dark and crossed the line and hit us.” Taylor straightened back up, having picked up her purse from the ground.

  “Oh sure, so says the tart,” Miss Lily said prudishly from the ground.

  In the distance, another set of car lights rounded the corner. “That ambulance must've gotten here fast,” Taylor said as she ran the tip of her tongue over her bright red lips. “I like fast.” She dropped her voice so only the guard could hear her as Trey and Miss Lily argued. “When the cops come, you’ll say the old man hit us, right?” She ran a hand down his chest and he smiled as she gave him a clear shot of her pushed-up boobs.

  “Sure, doll. What do I get for it?” the guard asked before more tires squealed.

  “You hussy,” Edna yelled as she hurried from the car. Out poured Miss Daisy and Miss Violet with her. “What are you doing with my man?”

  “Your man? It’s not my fault if you can’t hang onto him. Maybe if you got that bunion fixed, he wouldn’t have run off in terror for someone younger.”

  Edna gasped along with Miss Daisy and Miss Violet.

  “And you called me a tart,” Taylor said with full twang, really getting into her role. “And all the while you’re a man stealer.”

  “As if you weren’t just feeling up that young man over there,” Miss Lily shot back.

  “Babe?” Trey asked, wounded.

  “I was doing no such thing. You’re the home-wrecking hussy, not me.” She slammed her foot down and crossed her arms, shoving her boobs up for the guard to see again.

  “That’s right, just because she dresses the part doesn’t mean she’s a slut. You, on the other hand . . .” Miss Violet sneered.

  “Hey now, ladies. Calm down.” John smiled and all the women harrumphed.

  “Don’t get me started on you, you hound dog.” Miss Daisy wagged her finger at him.

  “I’m just saying there’s more than enough of me to go around. We can all get along.”

  “No, there ain’t. I’m woman enough to keep my man satisfied. And so is my chicken and cheese casserole.” Miss Lily threw down the figurative gloves and the other women gasped.

  “You can steal my man, but don’t you dare say your casserole is better than mine,” Edna hissed as she dug around her purse and brought out "Ol’ Magnum.”

  “Yeah, this is gate. I have a situation here. I need security—lots of it,” the guard said into his phone as he pulled his gun. “Now, put it down slowly, ma’am.”

  “Stay out of it, sonny. This concerns me and the old woman.” Edna pointed the large gun at Miss Lily.

  “Who are you calling old? Why, you’re so old you couldn’t shoot me if you tried. You’d break a hip, for crying out loud. With your glaucoma, you’ll probably shoot the tart over t
here instead of me.”

  “I’m not a tart!” Taylor stomped her foot and shouted.

  Bam!

  * * *

  Bridget sent the text. Go. “Okay, everyone,” she whispered into her microphone. “Be on the lookout. The crew just gave us one hell of a distraction. The gates are opening and I see . . . eight guards rushing out. Move forward now.”

  She gave Marko the command and they both moved silently toward the fence surrounding the large mansion. Cole, Dinky, Noodle, Jake, Miles, Marshall, Cade, Pierce, Paige, and Annie were all making their way toward their assigned positions. Jake and Paige were in sniper positions far enough away to be out of immediate danger, but the others were to advance to the fence. They would scale it when they got the signal from Cy.

  Marko let out a low growl that Bridget felt on her leg as opposed to hearing it. She froze and Marko did, too. A tree provided her cover as she watched a guard walk the property. She waited until he passed and then grabbed him from behind. Using leverage, she placed him in a chokehold until he passed out. She quickly gagged and tied him to the tree in complete silence.

  “One down on my perimeter,” she whispered.

  “One down on my side, too,” Cade replied.

  “Damn, why don’t I get any fun,” Annie complained. “Never mind. One down on my side,” she said when she came back on a couple minutes later.

  “The distraction out front is still working. Where’s Cy?” Paige’s voice asked over Bridget’s earpiece. Good question. It shouldn’t be long.

  Cy strapped on the parachute and then checked over Ahmed’s as the plane approached the mansion where Gemma was being held. His phone vibrated and he saw Bridget’s message.

  “Mission is a go,” he said to Ahmed who was now checking his parachute.

  “We’ll be there in seventy-five seconds.” Ahmed walked over to the open door and looked out into the night. “You love her.”