All is Lost (All Series, Book 2)

by Marie Wathen

  “Damn,” Marcus growls deeply, digging his fingers into my backside.

  Hoping no one heard the huskiness in his voice, I bump my shoulder, playfully into his chest. He snaps his eyes up to mine and his perfectly devilish grin stretches across his swollen, sexy lips. It takes every measure of the innocent woman in me to beat back the desire to climb on his lap, and not care if they will see us behave badly. Hearing his deep chuckle at my attempt to get some damn control over my raging hormones, I look away quickly, take a deep breath then release it. Calming my suddenly awoken sex-crazed libido doesn't work being this close to him so I give up and distract myself with talking.

  “Want to catch me up on what has been going on while I slept away the afternoon?”

  Chapter Twelve

  Breesan

  The vibe between the four member team is very comfortable and familiar. They play and joke like they are friends, not just coworkers. They all have similar, dominating personalities and it's funny to watch as one tries to overpower the other. They have an incredible dynamic in their combined group relationship, as well as the individual relationships.

  Since I came downstairs they have avoided heavy topics, involving shootings and abductions. They mostly chat about some Xbox game where they have critiqued it to death about how true to life it is in the “real call to duty” world. Kole grilled steaks and the conversations have been light throughout dinner. It helps settle my nerves somewhat, but I still feel guilty enjoying myself while all this bad is happening around us.

  I'm trying to be patient and respect their need to disconnect from work, but it isn’t that easy when I'm totally freaking out, needing to know what they are doing to find Anna and Waverly, or the person who wants me dead. I have stopped my foot from subconsciously tapping several times, all the fingernails on my right hand are chewed off, and the spot just under my right eye is a jumping nervous twitch. At last, a lull hits the conversation and I take advantage.

  “Will they find them?” I ask, keeping strength in my voice while battling a desire to cry from the weakness I really feel.

  After a pause and knowing glances exchanged between them, Kole answers. “Breesan, we have to believe they will be found. Some of the intel we got earlier looks…” He shifts his eyes toward Marcus. “Uh, Marcus?”

  I turn my attention to Marcus and see that he's starring at me with a pained look, clearly editing the information he wants to share. Passing out twice probably leads him to believe that I am weak and won't be able to handle anything; but I don't give a damn what he tells me, I'm going to keep my shit together for Anna and Waverly.

  “Do you remember when I left you at home earlier that I was on my way to a meeting?” Marcus asks and I nod. “Rhys has a buddy that works for another department who has been trying to find the shooters from last night. He came in earlier and gave us a quick update before leaving again. Also, Raithe shared an update from the crime scene. First, I want you to know that the local police department and county sheriff’s office is involved in this search.” He glances behind me, where Rhys is sitting and I follow his gaze. Rhys has an eyebrow raised, but he nods at Marcus, indicating he can continue.

  “While Raithe was at the hospital a patrol officer called in a suspicious person, flagging him down. He said the guy was swimming with his kids at a slew on the west side of the island where a body washed up.” Instantly, my body stiffens and I can't breathe. I cover my hand over my mouth, holding back the screams threatening to erupt. “Oh god Breesan, it isn’t Anna or Waverly,” Marcus rushes his words. “It was the guy you fought at the hospital. I’m sorry I didn't mean to make you think it was one of the girls.” Taking my hand in his he rubs his thumb methodically over the back and rushes his other through my hair. Exhaling loudly, I offer a nervous nod. “Damn I'll be careful with how I tell you the rest.” I nod again because I currently can’t string together two words.

  “The guy is a local who lives near the club and that's where we think his contact found him to do the job. Tac believes he has a good lead on another one of the guys who is also a local. Rhys has a plan to flush him out, but it’s risky.” Shifting his eyes from me to Rhys, Marcus’ eyebrows pinch together. “And I don't like it.”

  “Marcus if we're going to do this then there's no other way.” Rhys says standing and walking to the edge of the porch. Staring at the backyard he lights a cigarette, taking a draw before turning around toward us. “Breesan it's nothing personal. We just have a job to do and we don't need to get distracted by all this other bullshit.”

  “Okay.” Completely confused by his vagueness, I ask, “What are you talking about?”

  Rising from her chair, Sam walks over to Rhys. “Those things are going to kill you.” She smiles at him, holding out her hand, but allows him to continue smoking. “I thought you quit.”

  “Always my guardian angel,” He says, smirking down at her. After blowing out a mouth full of smoke, Rhys passes the cigarette to Sam. Flicking it a few times the fire pops off the end and she steps on it.

  “Rhys is a little high strung, so sometimes he comes off as an ass, but really he just needs to work on his communications skills.” Sam says, glancing at him. “Isn’t that right Commander?” Rhys grunts.

  I nod, “Rhys, I don't know what your problem is, but if it's with me I don’t understand. I haven't done a damn thing to you or your job. I don't need for you to protect me or whatever it is you have planned.” I turn to Marcus, “Just tell me what's going on. No games, no lies, I can handle it I swear. I know that I've been flaky with some of the shit that's been going on, but I promise that no matter what happens or what you tell me I'm going to be strong for them.”

  Marcus sits up straighter in his chair, releases my hand and leans forward, propping his arms in front of him on the table. “After the investigators identified him, they spoke with his family. Apparently this guy has a criminal history a mile long. He's done it all, and was facing some serious time on his most recent charge.” Marcus pauses to briefly study me. “He started spending a lot of his time at the club with some other guys who all admit that he was an extreme guy. When he does something he goes all out. Most recently the charge that was sending him off to prison was for domestic violence where he had attempted to kidnap his ex-girlfriend. He bragged to one guy that he knows a guy who deals in human trafficking.” I gasp, but Marcus continues. “Fortunately for the ex-girlfriend a witness called in the disturbance and the police arrived just as he was dragging her to his car. The judge let him out of jail on bond and his sentencing was set for next week. He comes from a poor family, and he was an underpaid dock worker living pay check to pay check.” Marcus glances away before continuing.

  “That was until a few weeks ago. It looks as though he just came in to a large amount of money, one hundred and fifty thousand dollars to be exact. It was probably a down payment with the rest coming after the job. Tac believes he was motivated by the money and was planning to leave the country to avoid prison.” I nod eagerly, understanding and awaiting the rest.

  “Now, what we have in mind, which you don't have to go along with, but if you do, know that I'm not leaving your side for one second.” Marcus vows taking a deep breath before continuing, “Breesan, we believe you are the intended target for the shooting and the abductions. We're still working out the why, but for now all we know is you are the common denominator. We don't think Anna and Waverly were meant to be taken, but since they were with you it was either take them or kill them. We don't know what their intentions are with them now that they failed at getting you, again.”

  I stand immediately and rush to the edge of the porch. Feeling nausea roll through my stomach and my skin prickling with gooseflesh, I struggle to keep down the food I just devoured. I hear a chair slide on the floor and then feel arms around my back. A soft shushing sound near my head let me know Sam is the one comforting me. I shake my head, hoping she will give me a private moment, but she refuses to let me go. Tugging my hair away from my fa
ce, she holds it in the middle of my back. I take several deep breaths, somehow managing my way through the queasiness. My hands clutching tight against my stomach, I turn around, and face all of them.

  “Hon, we don't have to do this all right now. Why don't we take a break and get you some water or ginger ale? That will settle your stomach. Everything that can be done for the girls is being done by the pros.” Sam says, taking my hand in hers, she leads me past the guys into the house. “Have a seat.” My arms wrap around my stomach, keeping me grounded where I stand. I feel like if I let go everything around me will fall away. Sam removes a glass from the cabinet and fills it with ice then pops a can of ginger ale open and pours it until the foam reaches the top. She sits the half empty can on the counter top and looks up at me.

  Two people have been taken away from their safe lives, their friends and families, all because someone wants me. If what Marcus is telling me is true then it's possible they could be sold into slavery for…Ohgod. I can't even think it. How can shit like this happen in Willow?

  “Drink that, it will help.” Sam nods at the glass, after tossing the empty can in a recyclables bin. “Marcus is a good guy, Breesan. And I know for a fact that he's crazy about you.” I sip the soda buying myself time through this conversation. She continues not needing my response. “Whatever Marcus does, trust me he does because he wants to and not because he feels like he has to do it. There's a lot of bad shit going on and you most definitely are smack dab in the middle of it. It's got him going bat shit crazy because he feels helpless when it comes to protecting you.” Chuckling softly, she glances out the backdoor. “It's totally none of my business and you don't know me, but I have to ask because I'm the big sister and he means the world to me so I'm just going to ask it anyway. Do you love him?”

  I swallow hard, nearly choking on her question and averting my eyes from her intense gaze. The silence is unbearable and I know she's doing it on purpose. Apparently, she is willing to wait me out, but how do I answer her? I am not prepared for this question. I haven't had time to fully process all the bad shit that's happened in the last forty eight hours let alone if I love Marcus. Just hearing those words roll around in my head makes me lightheaded. I place the glass down and lay my hand beside it. I scan the top of the counter for something to focus on, hoping I can keep my wits, but her glare burns through my flesh demandingly.

  Breaking the silence, Sam says, “I didn't really need to ask you that question. I've watched you since we got here. No woman responds to a man the way you do to Marcus for any other reason than love. I was just curious if you would admit it.” She laughs, “Hell, you really need to tell yourself first. Oh, him too I suppose.” Puzzled I tilt my head and stare at her while she regains her composure. “I'm sorry Hon, but you do love him.” Sam nods, eyes sparkling happily. “I see it because I'm a woman and these are the kinds of things we are receptive to, but Marcus doesn't have a clue. Your secret is safe with me.”Grateful that she doesn't expect me to answer, I smile anxiously and she laughs again.

  Sam’s laughter draws Kole and Rhys into the house. Rhys makes his way over to her dropping an arm around her shoulder. She leans into him, places a kiss on his cheek and then turns back to me. With a quick wink, she lets me in on her own little secret.

  “Feeling better” Rhys asks. I glance at Sam, realizing she effectively distracted me, helping get over the nausea. Her little ambush worked better than the ginger ale. I nod at Rhys’ question.

  “The maids come in the morning, but let’s not tell Kole,” Rhys whispers, gesturing toward the large tattoo covered guy, standing at the sink with a greasy pan in one hand and a scrubber in the other meticulously scouring the grime away. Together the three of us laugh softly, seeing the exact moment Kole realizes we are laughing at him. He frowns then drops everything into the sink and stomps out the back door.

  “Assholes,” Kole growls angrily, slamming the door behind him.

  Our laughter erupts into full belly laughs now. While we catch our breaths, I glimpse a sweet exchange between Rhys and Sam, telling me that he has a secret too. His thumb glides slowly over her arm in a very gentle and affectionate way. Frozen, he stares longingly into her laughing eyes. Sam pants out her remaining moans, giggles one last time, and then pushes away from Rhys’ embrace.

  “Okay you two, I'll be back in a minute,” Sam says, leaving me and Rhys. “Finish that ginger ale.”

  All laughter gone now, I feel a little uneasy being alone with him. Until yesterday, I didn’t know Rhys. Yet here I stand barefoot in his kitchen and it is apparent that he isn’t a member of the Breesan Maxwell fan club. Clearly feeling the awkwardness filling the room, Rhys turns away from me and opens the refrigerator. Taking out a beer and opening it with a twist of his hand, he turns up the bottle.

  “Rhys,” I sigh. “If I ask you a question, will you be honest?” He nods, draining his beer.

  “Do you know who is trying to kill me and why? Was the abduction supposed to be selling us into the human trafficking shit Marcus mentioned earlier?”

  Rhys puts the empty beer bottle on the counter and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “If I knew those answers your boyfriend wouldn't be so pissed at me right now.” He smirks, grabbing another beer from the fridge.

  “What is it that you want me to do?” My voice is a strained whisper, fearing his answer. Since the night I was attacked at Club Toxic and given a large dose of Ryske, my internal truth detector has been misfiring, like someone hung an “Out of Order” sign on that part of my brain. Unable to tell if Rhys is being completely honest with me, I also wonder for a moment if he is the right person to ask, knowing that his manner is typically less than delicate.

  Rhys peers at me with his eyebrows drawn together. “The police department hasn’t made the media aware of the abductions yet. With you being the intended target I think the best way to flush out the remaining kidnappers, or the person who hired them, is to include you in the press release.” Confused I stare at him. “Raithe will tell them that three women were taken instead of two. With the information we have on JV's plans to leave, it’s likely these guys are biding their time before they can split. If we release the false information we may raise some eyebrows by the person who paid a lot of money to have you abducted. And, well if their bodies turn up, no love lost, but they may come running, fearing the noose going around their necks.” I nod, hoping that if anything they will do the latter.

  “Criminals are known for doing stupid shit, Breesan.” Rhys smirks and for the first time tonight, he appears kind of charming. “It's a gamble, but one of them might panic now that JV is dead and the police department is investigating his death. If they think they can work out some sort of deal with the feds then one may roll on the other. Best case would be they both roll on the source, but that part of my epic plan is highly unlikely. Hell, I bet these guys don’t even know who paid for the hit.” Staring at his mouth, I watch his adorable smirk shift to a serious expression. “Breesan, the truth is we don't work in the missing person’s division.”

  “Okay,” I whisper understanding that this team can’t help me rescue my friends.

  “Marcus wants to help you find the girls, but we have a job to do that doesn't have anything to do with this shit…we think.” He shrugs. “He's convinced that it all involves your stepmother, but without proof or a guarantee we will not get approval from our division to join in on the search.” I knew before he said it, but still gasp at his barefaced attitude. “Shit, sorry” Rhys mumbles. “Understand this, even if your stepmother paid for the hit our department won't authorize four drug task force members to drop a twenty year old case on Dr. A to search for your friends.” He looks at me sympathetically. “It’s bullshit, I get it, but that’s just the way our government works. Now I’m not saying we won’t help, but it will be a little unorthodox. So, if you're willing to give my eccentric idea a go I'll keep you here on my secure residence, under our unofficial protection and wait for one of them to slip
up. When they do, all we can do at that point is hope that they lead us to the girls. Better yet we hope it leads to Dr. A so that we can take him down for all of this bullshit. I really need to uncover that bastard’s identity.”

  “So,” I start, taking a deep breath and wrapping my mind around his idea. “I stay here indefinitely, and you guys will tell the media that I was abducted. We will hope that a failed plan or lie about me getting away from the kidnappers will make someone nervous and that they will lead you to this Dr. A.” Rhys nods. “Wait a minute. If the government has been working on this case for so long, how do you not know who he is?”

  “Oh yes,” Rhys chuckles. “That is the billion dollar question. Well it’s simple. Dr. A is a very wealthy man. He's made millions in his international drug operations. Rumor has it that it all started with petty marijuana sales and then he worked his way through experimental drugs like Ryske. The truth is we caught a break when an agent stumbled across him while undercover last year.” Shaking his head and smirking, Rhys sits down on the barstool across from me, glancing toward the backdoor and lowering his voice slightly.

  “Dr. A has been aloof for so many years it had actually become a running joke that he was a fictional character or ghost made up by some ruthless drug cartel members, hoping to pressure their pushers. The funny thing is it was one of their own who turned nark and squealed.” Rhys’ eyes, normally a beautiful sapphire blue darken with an obvious bitterness from the memory. I wonder if he has personal knowledge of the situation and if rehashing it is painful for him. “Some really bad shit went down that day. The fucking prick, proudly boasting about his future endeavors mistakenly revealed to the agent that an old ghost was going to change everything just by taking a risk. Then he said something that didn’t make since until much later. Moments before the piece of shit took a bullet in the head he rolled over and gave up the name of Dr. A’s yacht. Of course the damn thing wasn’t registered to him, but it was more information than we’d ever netted before. One thing led to another and before we knew it we had followed his trail which led straight to your stepmother.”