Re/Deemed (Doms of the FBI Book 8)

by Michele Zurlo

  Her vision wavered between blinding white and pitch black. It looked like her internal injuries were worse than she’d thought. She struggled to speak because she desperately needed to talk some sense into him. “A means to an end? I’ll buy that I used you—you were my ticket inside. My agents haven’t been able to get a break like this the whole time we’ve been chipping away at The Eye’s organization. But you didn’t use me. My presence didn’t make things any easier for you. Lukas, I know you’re angry and hurt, and I’m sorry. Please come with me. We can argue someplace where people aren’t waiting to kill us.”

  She meant to grovel and beg a little more, but a coughing fit wracked her body, and she found herself gripping her ribs hard. They felt like they were close to imploding.

  “Get out, Agent Lockmeyer. Go and find your team. I tried doing things your way, and nothing good happened. I’m finished waiting for the FBI to clean up this world. I’m going to take care of this the only way they’ll understand.” He walked away.

  She wanted to go after him, to stop him from executing those responsible for running The Eye and then killing himself—or dying in the process—but she was sidelined by another bout of coughing. Wetness coated the hand she’d used to cover her mouth. She looked down, and in the dimness of the colored lights, she noted she was coughing up blood.

  Oh, fuck. This is not good.

  She didn’t remember falling, but she must have, because when she opened her eyes, Jed’s face swam above her. The welcome sight of his dark eyes and angled cheekbones hit her hard. Tears stung her eyes.

  The world went black around the edges, and the central image sharpened. “Jed?”

  “Yeah, Chief. It’s me.” Lights moved behind him, evidence of his team sweeping the area. “Can you move?”

  She tried to shake her head, but pain rolled through her body. “Lukas. He’s—”

  Jed threw an order over his shoulder. “Dare, call it in.”

  Liam Adair, nicknamed Dare, spoke into his radio. She heard his voice, but she didn’t see his face. “SSA Lockmeyer has been located. We need a MedEvac to the barn.”

  Her lips moved, trying to form the letters of Lukas’s name, but the world went black before she could tell Jed to stop Lukas before he made a mistake from which there was no coming back.

  Chapter 17

  “She’s still in the hospital.”

  A guy every bit as tall and imposing as Lukas entered the interrogation room, but where Lukas was bald, this guy had a shaggy mane of black hair that spilled past his shoulders. He wore ripped jeans and a crisp, light blue, button-down shirt. No jacket or tie. He didn’t look like an FBI agent, but the badge hanging from the lanyard around his neck identified him as one.

  He was one of the people who’d come from animal control to pick up Waldo. Thinking back, Lukas was impressed at how well Brandy and the agent had done with pretending they hadn’t met.

  Lukas schooled his features to remain neutral, but a question escaped. “Who?” Surely the agent wouldn’t offer up information on his co-worker.

  “Brandy.” He set a digital tablet on the table and settled into a chair. With the pair of them in the room, it seemed a lot smaller. He smiled. “That’s who you keep looking for every time the door opens.”

  As soon as he’d left the barn, helicopters dropped loads of Federal agents. They’d rappelled from the sky like ironic angels of mercy wearing jackets labeled FBI or SWAT.

  Understanding that retribution was beyond him, he’d dropped to his knees and put his hands in the air. While he’d been still so the people with automatic weapons trained on him didn’t get ideas, he’d watched Brandy being wheeled out on a stretcher. In the bright lights of the invading army, she’d appeared ashen. Blood dripped from her mouth, and her eyes had been closed, her lashes extra dark against the paleness of her skin. He’d known she was in no condition to follow him, but he hadn’t known she was that bad off.

  They’d loaded her onto a chopper.

  Three days ago.

  That agent had been there, the one he’d noticed at a gas station in Iowa. He’d mentioned it to Firebrand. Then he hadn’t seen the guy again. She’d been in contact with them the whole time. He remembered the phone she’d hidden in the bathroom under the counter.

  He’d hidden it better. The Eye searched their residences on a regular basis.

  His gaze dropped. There was no need to get into a pissing contest with this guy. Whether he talked or not, he was looking at a life sentence. Death would come from The Eye in prison. He hadn’t escaped. He’d only prolonged the torture.

  He hadn’t expected to live this long.

  He just needed to know she was okay before he ended his weary journey.

  He also wanted to know if her promises about bringing down The Eye were bearing fruit, or if she’d been saying anything to get him to do what she wanted.

  “She sent a message for you. Do you want to see it?”

  She was awake and talking. That was all he needed to know.

  He shook his head. “No.”

  The refusal hurt a place not-so-deep inside him. He had to remind himself that she’d used him. She’d admitted as much. Everything she’d said and done was a lie. Every look, laugh, and touch was a way for her to do her job. When she’d knelt for him, she hadn’t meant it. When she’d looked at him, those haunting green eyes full of passion and affection, it had been an act.

  When she’d called him by title, she’d probably been silently laughing at him.

  The agent lifted a shoulder. “Suit yourself.”

  “I’m not talking to you.”

  “That’s okay.” He flashed a smile that wouldn’t pass for friendly under any circumstances. Then he swiped a finger over the tablet, unlocking it with his fingerprint. “I’ll do the talking.”

  After three days of being confined alone—except for the doctor who’d stitched his cuts—Lukas was ready to listen to anyone talk. Especially someone who’d seen and talked to his Firebrand.

  Brandy.

  Agent Lockmeyer.

  His Firebrand didn’t exist. She was a fabrication, a lie he’d been fed so she could use him. He wasn’t upset that she’d used him. He was heartbroken that everything between them had been a lie.

  Yeah, he knew he’d been lying, too.

  He hadn’t expected to leave Willowlands except in a body bag.

  He’d known that when he’d consented to taking her there. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he kept thinking he would be able to get her out. He’d uploaded a full confession vindicating her onto his cloud drive, the one where he’d carefully documented everything he’d done and everything he’d learned in service to The Eye.

  The door opened, and another agent came inside. This one was a woman. Medium height. Medium build. Blonde hair, blue eyes. Unlike the agent with the shaggy hair, she dressed like she was a Fed. Her suit fit her generous curves, but it was still official-looking, as was the badge around her neck.

  He’d come across her before as well. She’d been the other animal control officer who’d picked up Waldo the female dog when Needa Ross had demanded the dog be surrendered to the county shelter.

  She offered a smile, one that reached her eyes. “Hi, Mr. Xuereb. I’m SSA Avery Forsythe. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” She took the chair next to the male agent, and she chucked him on the shoulder. “You were going to start without me.”

  “Yep. You snooze, you lose.”

  “Did you introduce yourself?”

  The guy pursed his lips as he thought. “I’m not sure.” He looked to Lukas. “Did I tell you my name?”

  Lukas shook his head one time.

  “SSA Jordan Monaghan. I’m sure Agent Lockmeyer mentioned me.”

  Lukas stared as if the man had lost his mind. He could hear Firebrand responding with sarcasm, admonishing them for thinking she would blow her cover by talking about her Special Agent friends.

  “No? That’s disappointing. I’m her frame of reference for Dad
dy Doms. I was sure she would have brought me up at least once.”

  His memory lit up and his mood darkened, not that he’d been a ball of sunshine before. She had mentioned knowing a Daddy Dom. He’d assumed the man in question was significantly older and completely not handsome. Maybe he was missing most of his teeth and had a bad haircut. Agent Monaghan was a ruggedly handsome man who looked like he’d barely seen the softer side of thirty. Given her inexperience, there was no way they’d been an item. He was a little young for her, anyway. And she loved touching his bald head. She wouldn’t want to run her fingers through the locks of a dude who had hair every bit as pretty as hers.

  Then he remembered that none of his memories of her led to the truth.

  She’d lied.

  She’d used him.

  “We’re not going to start there.” Agent Forsythe folded her hands together on the table. “Let’s start with your last visit to the FBI.”

  He was well aware what happened then.

  “You were interviewed by Agent Miguel Lawrence. At the time, he was the Detroit Bureau Chief.”

  Yeah, a lot of good that had done. It meant he had nowhere to go once the asshole had laughed him off. His mouth narrowed to a tight scowl.

  Agent Forsythe continued, her happy nature undamaged. “He took down your concerns, and then he buried the file.”

  Agent Monaghan drummed his fingers on his thigh and leaned back in his chair so that it was only on two legs. “This was before or after he blew up my wife’s house?”

  “Before.” Agent Forsythe squeezed Agent Monaghan’s arm. “About a year before.”

  The male agent affected a scowl that matched Lukas’s.

  It looked like Brandy had been telling the truth when she said The Eye had gone after her and her friends.

  “The complaints were buried so deep that I only found them because Brandy told me what to look for.” Agent Forsythe regarded him apologetically. “The FBI would like to formally apologize for this. Rest assured everyone who was involved has been terminated. Some are in prison, but most have died, including Miguel Lawrence.”

  Lukas was well acquainted with The Eye’s policy about people who were nabbed by law enforcement. Death was preferable to disloyalty, and if someone was inclined to cooperate, they were killed by members stationed inside most prisons, either as prisoners or guards.

  “Let’s go over your file,” Agent Monaghan said. “See if it’s accurate.”

  Lukas said nothing. Since he’d expected to be dead by now, he wasn’t sure what came next, but all the TV shows were clear on the fact that FBI agents liked to hear themselves speak.

  “Your brother was addicted to prescription drugs. He was in and out of rehab.”

  As the agent talked, Lukas recalled the last time Trace had kicked his drug habit. Ever since their father had died when Lukas was twelve and Trace was six, Lukas had looked out for his little brother. He’d tried to pass on their father’s teachings and values, but once Trace tried an opioid, he’d been hooked.

  After years of trying to help him, Lukas and his mother had turned to tough love. They’d refused to give him anything until he got clean—and Trace had done it. He’d sobered up.

  “Trace became involved with The Eye through an outreach program he was involved in.” Agent Forsythe’s eyes were soft. She was definitely playing Good Cop to Agent Monaghan’s Bad Cop. Though, if he were to be honest, neither agent had been nasty to him. Agent Monaghan’s actions weren’t even all that abrupt or officious.

  It was just that Agent Forsythe seemed to want to like him. He wondered what Firebrand had said about him that made both agents seem curious about the events that had landed him in the FBI’s Phoenix field office.

  “Did you get the guys who kidnapped her?” The question burst out of him. He needed to know if the people who’d abducted and terrorized his Firebrand had been caught and would face punishment.

  “Yes,” Agent Monaghan supplied. “Brandy gave us their names when she arranged to go undercover. They were Miguel Lawrence’s sons. They figured they were punishing both the FBI and The Eye by kidnapping an agent and selling her to a criminal organization.”

  “They’re in prison or awaiting trial?” They’d need Firebrand’s testimony at a trial, and she hadn’t been away from Willowlands to make that happen.

  “They pled guilty in exchange for not being charged with human trafficking. They’re serving eight-to-fifteen.” He flashed a grimace that mirrored how Lukas felt on the inside. “It’s not enough time, but we hoped once we had all The Eye’s intelligence, we’d find other charges to file. Their deal didn’t preclude new charges.”

  Lukas sat back. He hadn’t been aware that he’d leaned forward to hear the agent’s response.

  “The outreach program got Trace a job cleaning and doing small repairs at a church.” Agent Forsythe consulted the tablet. “The church was a front that recruited for The Eye.”

  “Church of Redemption,” he muttered. After Trace died, the place he’d worked had ultimately led Lukas to Redemption Center, which he had mistakenly believed was the headquarters. It wasn’t until he’d been accepted there that he’d found out it was one of many training centers for the Cause. He’d hooked the little fish, and it had taken him three more years to find his way to Willowlands.

  Trace had found Redemption Center a lot faster. He’d become involved without fully understanding what he was doing. Nothing Lukas said swayed Trace away from Redemption Center. It was like he’d transferred his addiction from pills to religion. Lukas’ efforts led Trace to cut Lukas and their mother from his life. He pledged his loyalty and his life to a cause that preached hatred for his own kind.

  Lukas had tried to reach out. He’d gone to one of the meetings, and he’d listened to the racist rhetoric preaching against people like their mother and aunt, who’d come to the U.S. from Colombia. They’d gone after their father’s side as well, with thinly veiled slurs against Blacks. Their father had been from Malta, and his ancestry was mostly Libyan. Trace had lighter skin than Lukas, but there was no mistaking him for white.

  “That’s the first time you went to the FBI.” Agent Forsythe’s voice was so soft and understanding. He wondered if she was just a co-worker to Firebrand, or if she was a close friend. He had the feeling Agent Monaghan was a close friend. Otherwise why would she give him a message to deliver? She trusted these agents.

  Had she trusted him? Was that why she’d risked placing herself into his care? She hadn’t known anything about him except that he was against rape and abuse.

  He shook away his thoughts of her, but that only made room for memories of Trace. At Redemption Center, Trace had discovered heroin. He’d died less than six months later. Thinking about it now, the pain of heartbreak and loss gripped his heart in a vise. He understood how hopeless his mother had felt.

  How, even though she still had one son living, she’d succumbed to crippling grief.

  But he didn’t have it in him to give up. Risking his life, joining The Eye on a suicide mission—that had been his way of coping.

  He’d never expected to fall in love.

  “And so you went to the FBI for a second time.” Steel glinted in Agent Monaghan’s eyes, but it wasn’t directed at Lukas. “Miguel Lawrence heard your complaint. He recorded it, and he suppressed it. At the time, he was working for The Eye. That’s why nothing happened.”

  Lukas thought about Firebrand telling him that she had cleaned house at the FBI. Agent Forsythe had begun by telling him that those agents had been put in jail. He realized they were angling to get him to cooperate.

  Only The Eye was still out there. They had cut off the head, but the considerable task of pulling the deep roots of the weed remained. Lukas needed to make sure they had everything before minions of The Eye got to him in prison.

  “You’re friends with her.” The statement fell out of his mouth. He hadn’t meant to say anything to either of these people until he’d figured out exactly how to frame
his confession.

  A smile lit Agent Forsythe’s face. “She’s my best friend.”

  Special Agents were trained to not give up information in an interrogation, not unless it would net them more in return. Agent Forsythe should have responded by saying all agents were a family, but she hadn’t tried to obfuscate.

  “Do you want the note?” Agent Monaghan regarded him, a slight lift to his brows. “Do you want to ask about her?”

  Lukas shook his head. She was fine. If she hadn’t been, her best friend wouldn’t be there questioning him with a soft touch. Thinking about Firebrand hurt more than talking about Trace and all the painful memories it dredged up. Time had blunted the edge of the knife, and it had brought Brandy into his life. He hadn’t wanted her. He hadn’t wanted a slave at all, much less one who was so spirited and rebellious.

  Lukas closed his eyes. In retrospect, she’d captured his heart from the start, only he hadn’t known it at the time. He’d been too broken, too numb to recognize the way she claimed his heart and soul with one defiant look.

  He waited for Agent Monaghan to go into detail about the crimes he’d committed while working for The Eye, but he didn’t. He and Agent Forsythe exchanged a significant look.

  Lukas raised his eyebrows. “That’s all you have? Everything you said is a matter of public record. So far, I’m not impressed with your research skills.”

  “We have more.” Agent Forsythe spoke gently, as if explaining something to an upset child. “I’m sure it’s not a complete picture.”

  He waited for her to continue.

  “Lukas, I think you can help us.”

  Agent Monaghan leaned forward, resting his hands on the table casually. “And I think we can help you.”

  There was nothing the FBI could do. He knew he was dead the moment he stepped foot in a real prison, and so he had to get the evidence he’d amassed to the FBI before he went. He had planned to release it directly to news outlets, but it appeared the FBI was actually serious about their mission.