Dangerous Lovers

by Becca Vincenza

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Bridgette held on tightly. Her sister. She couldn’t believe it. She leaned back, taking a closer look at her. Tears streamed down Charlotte’s face. Bridgette noticed the small cut bleeding on her sister’s neck. McKay stood in the hallway, a knife held in his hand.

  “What the hell is going on?” she asked. “You cut her!” Bridgette wiped at the blood as Charlotte tried to wave her off.

  “I’m fine,” she assured her.

  Bridgette cupped her face gently, drinking her in. “Look at you,” she said, smiling. “You’re even more beautiful now that you’re all grown up.” She pulled her into another tight hug, glaring at McKay over her shoulder. “Why were you attacking her?” she asked. Charlotte tried to break free, but she just tightened her hold. She thought her sister was dead, only to have her here in her arms. No one was going to take her again. And she certainly wasn’t going to let anyone hurt her.

  “Bridge,” McKay said roughly, “there’s a lot you don’t understand.”

  “I know that if you come near her with that knife again, we’re going to have some serious problems,” she shot back. Bridgette turned with her arm still wrapped protectively around her little sister and brought her inside the apartment. She heard McKay follow but didn’t take her attention off Charlotte. She grabbed a towel off the island and held it to her neck.

  “I’m fine, Bridgette,” Charlotte insisted. “Pete’s right, there’s a lot going on you don’t know about.”

  “I don’t give a damn,” she replied firmly. She cleaned up the cut with a wet towel then stepped back to look at her again, as if she would suddenly change to someone else. She just couldn’t believe it was really Charlotte. Her little Charlotte. Bridgette took in her outfit: black boots, cargo pants, black, hooded shirt – realization slowly dawning. When she met her sister’s eyes, she could see the apology and remorse there. “You’re Weapon X, aren’t you?” she breathed.

  Charlotte hesitated before nodding slowly. Bridgette knew the common outfit for New World army soldiers. She also knew what Weapon X wore so it wasn’t too difficult to put two and two together. “I should have known,” she said. “I just figured someone else had your talents.”

  “I wouldn’t really call it a talent,” Charlotte murmured.

  “I thought you were dead.”

  Her sister gulped audibly, tears brimming in her eyes again. “I know. I’m sorry.”

  Bridgette shook her head, forcing a smile. “It doesn’t matter. You’re here now. That’s what’s important.”

  A moan from the bedroom caught their attention. “Go check on Seamus,” she told McKay.

  “What’s wrong with Seamus?” Charlotte asked.

  “Your friend beat him within an inch of his life,” he answered. Bridgette saw her sister physically flinch from his words. She watched the way Charlotte looked at him and she knew there was something between them. From the glimmer in her sister’s eyes, she’d say it was strong. It made her even more protective, especially from the way McKay was speaking to her.

  “Watch it,” Bridgette said. McKay growled in frustration.

  “Bridge, you need to stay out of this. You have no idea what she’s done.”

  “I haven’t done anything,” her sister defended. “I’m telling you it was Tommy. I’m not lying, Pete. You need to believe me. And you need to warn them at the church. The army could already be there.”

  “Warning received,” came a deep voice from the doorway. Bridgette recognized it instantly, her whole body stiffening. She grabbed Charlotte instinctively, placing her behind her. Five men entered before him, all with their weapons drawn. She quickly glanced over at McKay to see his face had gone ashen.

  “Hands up, McKay,” one of them ordered.

  Douglas Hatcher walked in last, his gaze stuck on them. “Well, well,” he said. “Look how perfectly this worked out.” He smiled.

  Bridgette felt Charlotte stiffen behind her. “Dad?” she gasped.

  Their father’s eyes looked directly at Charlotte, no warmth in them at all. “Charlotte,” he said. “I always wondered what happened to you. Imagine my surprise when I found out. Did they force you to join with them, or did you do it just for spite?”

  Bridgette didn’t need to look back at her sister to know she was pulsing with anger. “You left us to die,” she said. “You’re damn right I did it for spite.”

  Douglas smirked. “Figures. I think you’re more like me than I care to admit.” It was a typical verbal slap in the face by their father. He was good at that – being a grade A ass. “But, not to worry, we will make this right now. They’re coming with us,” he said to the others, pointing at them. “Leave him.”

  Two men walked toward them. Bridgette braced herself. She felt Charlotte move, and suddenly all guns were pointed at them, even her father’s.

  “Don’t, Charlotte,” he warned. “You reach for that gun and I will not hesitate to put a bullet in you.”

  Bridgette looked back at her sister, seeing the fury sparking in her bright, blue eyes. She raised her hands slowly to her sides as one of the men stepped forward and disarmed her.

  “Let me guess,” Charlotte said wryly, “you’re the General.” Douglas nodded once. “I’m assuming you’re also the one who taught them all how to block me out.”

  He smirked. “I’m surprised you didn’t put that together sooner.”

  “I guess I was just hoping you were dead.” She smiled back unemotionally.

  “Not yet, my dear. Not yet.” He turned and started to walk back out of the apartment, calling over his shoulder, “Bring them.”

  They were pushed forward. Bridgette looked to McKay who was still being held at gunpoint, his hands raised. He wasn’t looking back at her though. His eyes were glued to her sister, filled with panic. Bridgette reached back and grabbed Charlotte’s hand, squeezing it. Then they walked out of the apartment, together.

  As soon as the girls were out the door, Ollie stepped forward and landed a punch in his stomach. Pete bent over, his breath rushing out of him.

  “That’s what you get for sleeping with the enemy,” he said, before turning and leaving, slamming the door behind him. Pete’s heart raced as he straightened, looking around his place frantically.

  Every curse word known to man swam through his head. What was he supposed to do now? Douglas had them both. He was so worked up that his hands were shaking. Pete ran to his bedroom and found the gun hidden in his bedside drawer. Seamus still lay unconscious in his bed. What the hell was he going to do? His best friend was dying, his other best friend just got taken by her sadistic father to God knows where, as did the woman he loved.

  Oh God. He just watched her get taken and never once did he express how he felt about her. She probably thought he hated her. She stood there and told him she loved him, and he never said it back. His anger clouded his sense of judgement, and now he royally screwed up. If he hadn’t had to watch Seamus be beaten like that, he would have known better than to listen to what Roman said. Even when he first saw her standing there, all he could see was red. He wasn’t thinking clearly, and now he had let her get abducted, thinking that he hated her.

  The front door opened again. Pete cocked the gun and walked out with it raised to shoot. He pulled up short when he saw his brothers there.

  “You need to go get dad,” were the first words out of his mouth.

  “What?” Trent said brows furrowed.

  “Dad. I need him. Now.”

  “What’s wrong with you?” Garrett asked. “Where’s Seamus?” he looked around as he asked.

  “Seamus is in my bed, half dead. Bridgette just walked out of here at gunpoint with her crazy father. Oh, and Dinah, who is actually Charlotte, Bridgette’s sister, was also taken at gunpoint. And she also happens to be Weapon X, which her father seems to be aware of, so I’m really not sure what he has planned. So once again, I need dad.”

  All hell broke loose at once. Pete wasn’t even sure what ei
ther of them were saying, but they were talking at the same time and moving toward the bedroom. Pete stood in the living room, his thoughts a blur. He needed to come up with a plan, but he had no idea where to start. Where would Douglas take the girls? Obviously not the church. Where else? He started going over all the buildings he knew the rebels used.

  Two hands were shaking him roughly when he finally snapped back to reality.

  “Damn it, Pete,” Trent cursed. “Are you listening?”

  “What? No,” he answered. “What did you say?”

  “I said, what the hell happened to Seamus?”

  “He needs medical help.”

  Trent growled in frustration. “Garrett, we’re going to Michael’s. Stay here and make sure he drinks some water.” Trent grabbed Pete roughly and started dragging him toward the front door. “You’re with me,” he said. “You can explain to me what in God’s name is going on, on the way over. This time, slower.”

  The cottage looked as it always did, but for Pete everything had changed. It could no longer be his father’s escape. He needed Michael McKay to get off his ass and get involved. On the way over, after explaining everything to Trent, twice, Pete had decided that it was his dad who could make all the difference.

  Michael was on the front step before they even stepped out of the car. One look at his sons was all he needed to know something was wrong. He turned and stepped back in without a word, knowing they’d follow. As soon as Pete got inside, he walked over to where his father sat in his favourite chair, and collapsed to the floor in front of him. His father’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.

  “Da,” he choked. “I don’t ask you for much. I know you’ve always had to deal with us and all the crap we create, but I’ve never really asked you for anything. This time, I’m asking – no, I’m begging, for you to come out and help us. I need you.”

  Michael looked up at Trent. “What’s going on?”

  “Douglas has overstepped his boundaries, that’s what,” Trent all but growled. Even though Pete had been honest and told him who Dinah – no, Charlotte – was, his brother didn’t seem to mind. He was furious that the girls had been taken, and was just as eager to get them back as Pete was. Trent knew right away that Roman had been lying when Pete told him the story. He said he saw the way Charlotte was with him, and that there was no doubt in his mind that she wouldn’t betray any of them, much less Pete. “She loves you, Pete,” Trent had said in the car. “Can’t you see that?”

  His heart had never felt this fragile. How stupid and blind could he be? How could he ignore everything that happened between them the instant someone put it into question? He didn’t give her the benefit of the doubt, and then he just stood there while she was led away from him. He was the lowest of the low. It made him sick.

  “You’re going to need to explain more than that,” their father replied.

  “He’s taken her, da. Douglas came and took Dinah and Bridgette. I don’t know what he has planned, but it can’t be good. And Seamus is badly injured.”

  “First, where is Seamus?”

  “My place.”

  His father nodded. “Trent, go get my first aid kit and some extra bandages.” Pete heard his brother move to gather the things. “Now, why would Douglas take your girls?”

  “Because Dinah is really his youngest daughter, Charlotte.”

  Michael nodded slowly. “I thought she looked familiar. She has his eyes.”

  Pete instantly shook his head. “No, her eyes are bright and beautiful, and full of life. Douglas’ are cold and calculating. She is nothing like him.”

  “Okay, son,” he said gently. “If he took his daughters, I’m sure he means them no harm.”

  Pete laughed, sounding slightly hysterical. He explained the rest, some of it while they sat there, the remainder while they packed up the car and left. His father agreed to go to his house, which was the first step. Now he just needed to convince him about everything else that was happening.

  When they got in, Michael went directly to Pete’s bedroom to check on Seamus. Garrett walked out looking tired.

  “How is he?” Trent asked.

  “He just moans,” Garret said. “He hasn’t opened his eyes once.”

  “He probably can’t,” Pete said. “They’re too swollen.”

  The three brothers stood around his island.

  “What do we do now?” Garrett asked.

  “We need to figure out where the General has taken the girls, and then we need to figure out what the hell he has planned and stop him.”

  “Just the three of us?” Garrett looked unconvinced.

  Pete shook his head. “I know there are others who think Douglas is out of line. We just need to contact the right people.”

  “We get rid of Douglas, and then what?” Trent said.

  “Then we get da to take over,” Pete answered.

  Both boys snorted. “He’s not going to agree to that,” Garrett pointed out.

  “Then we’ll just have to convince him. In the meantime, we need to start making some phone calls to whoever has phones, and paying some visits to those who don’t. Anyone you can think of who will be ready and willing to stand by us. We also have to figure out where he’d take them.”

  “There’s another church,” their dad said, walking out of the bedroom. “A small little chapel in the upper section. Douglas had a way to get to it from the ghetto. It’s most likely where he’ll go now.”

  Pete nodded gratefully. “Can you describe what it looks like?”

  His father smiled. “Even better. I can draw you a map.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Out of all the scenarios she had come up with in her head on the way over to Pete’s, not one of them had been remotely close to this. To say Charlotte was shocked would have been the understatement of her life. She got back, not one family member, but two. Although one she could seriously do without, she decided, watching her father as he spoke softly to his goons. Bridgette wasn’t in the same room as her, and for that Charlotte was thankful. She just prayed Bridgette wasn’t in the same sort of situation that she currently was.

  Charlotte shifted in the chair slightly, the ropes cutting into her exposed wrists. She had no idea where they were, but from the look of things, she’d say a basement. The walls were rough, old stone, sparkling with moisture. The air had a musty, dirt smell. She had no idea what the floors were made of, but they looked worn, uneven, and slick.

  The room was just a small ten by ten with a mirror on one wall. It didn’t take a genius to guess that it was a two-way mirror. It made her wonder what in the hell her father used this place for. And how long had he had it? If she’d learned one thing so far during this short and painful reunion with her father, it was that she was no longer interested in knowing what it was he did. No wonder her mother had kept it from them. Charlotte had a sneaking suspicion, when looked at closely, Douglas Hatcher was not that far removed from Ludwig Tenebris. Both men had blood on their hands, and apparently Douglas Hatcher didn’t care if that blood was related to him.

  One of the soldiers stood with his gun aimed at her. She wasn’t exactly sure why, considering she was tied to a chair. She had mental powers, not super strength powers. The only way she was bursting out of these restraints was if she had a knife and a little bit of privacy. The soldier stared at her, his eyes never leaving. She flicked her gaze to his briefly now and again, and every time he would be looking back. It was making her downright nervous. From the pinched look of his eyes, she guessed he was wondering just how strong her mind reading capabilities were. She’d seen that look many times before. Like if they concentrated on her hard enough she’d speak to them telepathically and reveal all their inner, darkest secrets. Or that somehow staring at her would increase their defence against her. Fools.

  She slowly turned her head to meet his stare straight on, this time not looking away. “Take a picture,” she said dryly. “It lasts longer.”

  His mouth turned down in a
look of disgust. “You’re a traitor to your people,” he said.

  “Oh? My people who currently have me tied to a chair? Those people? Are those the people you’re talking about? Because I got to tell you, from this standpoint, I’m not really sure why I wouldn’t be a traitor.”

  “Enough,” her father said, walking into the room. “Don’t speak to her,” he scolded the man. He turned to her, that familiar crease between his eyebrows appearing. She remembered it from whenever he was upset with her. It hadn’t been often, but it was a key indication that she was in shit. For the most part, current circumstances aside, she had always been a good, obedient daughter. Her father had never been the overly loving type, but she still looked for his approval growing up. Now she couldn’t fathom why.

  “You mother is probably spinning in her grave at what you’ve become,” he said.

  “The grave you helped put her in?” she replied with a sweet smile. His face hardened. “What do you want from me, dad? If you’re going to kill me then go ahead. What are you waiting for?”

  He smiled, not the kind one she had memories of, but one that left her with chills. “Oh I’m not going to kill you, Charlotte. You’re my bartering piece – assurance that everything will get done exactly the way I want it to.” He walked closer to her, crouching down two feet away from the chair. “Your sister is very adamant that no harm comes to you. She’s rather – protective.”

  Charlotte narrowed her eyes. “What does Bridgette have to do with this? I only just found her before you arrived. She has nothing to do with me and my affiliations.”

  “I’m well aware,” he said. “However, I need her help with this.”