He wasn’t sure whether to curse or celebrate—but figured a little of both never hurt anyone.
He shook Tristan’s hand, only to be greeted with, “You both ride in the backseat.”
His car, his rules, even though it rankled Zane. He didn’t answer Tristan, just grunted as he slung the bags into the third seat, then ushered Liv into the middle one.
Then he turned back to Tristan. “What route are you taking?”
“The fastest,” Tristan told him. “I hope you got rid of whoever fucked you up.”
“I took care of it.”
“I’ll get you to Doc J’s safely. Just don’t backseat drive.”
“Don’t give me a reason to,” Zane told him.
Tristan grinned and Zane slid in next to Liv, who began to examine him like he was goddamned dying. She fussed over his damned head, which he had to admit, still throbbed like a mother.
But her hand was cool on his forehead and the air-conditioning in the truck actually worked, so all in all, not a bad experience.
“Sleep. I’ll wake you, okay?” she told him.
It was an offer he didn’t want to refuse, couldn’t afford to. And so he did, in spurts, the movement of the car keeping his guard up somewhat, Tristan’s music—hard rock—ringing in his ears. Liv’s hand on his thigh … his covering hers.
More than once, he noticed Tristan glancing at him in the rearview mirror, once mouthing, “whipped,” at him.
More than once, Zane gave him the finger, and Liv looked between the two of them as Tristan laughed at him from the front seat.
“Asshole,” he muttered, closed his eyes again and mentally thanked the asshole for knowing how not to hit every bump in the road.
He wasn’t used to any of this—traveling with a woman, having a woman taking care of him. He’d never made dating—or romance—a staple in his life. It was all sex and partying and bullshit and he’d never really expected more. Wasn’t sure he wanted it, although he certainly held up his parents as guides.
Both sets of his parents had worked together. Lived and died together. For someone like him who’d spent so much time alone, the thought of being with someone for the rest of his life fascinated him.
The picture of Liv burned a hole in his pocket. During the time after she was first taken by DMH, he hadn’t been around to help Dylan look for her. He’d had to focus on his missions, but he could feel her, never lost faith that she was alive.
Liv’s parents hadn’t thought it strange that he was looking for her so intently, that he’d sat with them, at their dinner table, listening to stories about Liv and looked at her picture and realized with a peace he’d never experienced before that he was on the right path to where he needed to be.
It was odd. And romantic.
Fucking whipped.
He grit his teeth and attempted to catch more shut-eye for the remainder of the trip, which didn’t take long. Doc J’s camp was maybe two hours from the ports at Freetown, yet it was worlds away. Quiet, almost peaceful, especially in the early morning hours.
It didn’t stop Zane from scanning the area to look for anything suspicious, the sudden burst of sun slashing through his head like a knife.
“That’s Doc J,” Tristan said to him and Liv when they pulled into camp, nodding his head in the direction of the man in cargo pants and a tan T-shirt, with a definite military bearing, headed their way. Tristan didn’t say anything else before ambling off in another direction.
“Zane?” The man asked before introducing himself to them. “I’m glad you made it safely. Looks like some trouble found you along the way. I’m guessing you won?”
Zane nodded. “Thanks for putting us up.”
“No problem. Army?” Doc J asked Zane, who pressed his lips together for a second before saying, “Navy.”
Doc J’s lips quirked. “We all make mistakes, son. I’ll still pray for you.”
He moved his gaze toward Olivia, as if attempting to judge just how much to tell her.
She broke the awkwardness by admitting, “I know how Ama died. And why.”
“Ama chose her path, knew the risks. She was a good woman.” He paused, and then, “She told me about you.”
“So my visit isn’t a surprise.”
He shrugged. “I can put you two up for as long as you need.”
“I might stay on … for a while,” she blurted out, and it was all Zane could do to bite back a snort.
“Like I said, it’s not a problem.” Doc J eyed her steadily and then shifted to look at Zane.
If Doc J noticed Zane’s anger, he didn’t show it. Instead, he asked Liv, “After you put down your things, do you mind taking a look at some of my patients?”
“I can do that, sure,” she answered, and Doc J pointed them in the direction of a stand-alone tent.
“You guys can stay in there—sparse but clean.”
“Thanks. And I can look at some patients right now,” she offered, not looking in Zane’s direction.
Doc J said, “Why don’t you start in the main tent first?”
Olivia nodded and Zane watched her walk across the compound, the stubborn set of her shoulders making his teeth grind.
Whipped.
“So, this camp,” Zane started without any pretense, because he didn’t have any time left for bullshit. “What’s the deal?”
“Missionary and light medical care. We help those who can’t help themselves.”
Doc J was damned good and if Zane wasn’t born and bred suspicious, he might’ve bought the company line. “You’re getting Olivia involved in something and I need to know exactly what that entails. And don’t think for a second I buy that We all have our own path we need to follow bullshit.”
“I happen to believe it,” Doc J said. “Look, I’m in the business of helping. It’s as simple as that.”
“You can’t help without funding.”
“True.” Doc J motioned for Zane to walk with him.
After they got out far enough to see the road, he said, “We’re muscle for hire, yes. But what you see here, this is real. I train the men and women who come to me—mainly former military—to take care of other missionary clinics throughout Africa. And then I send them with the weaponry to do so. The local government, if you want to call it that, doesn’t know what I do here, they’ve never suspected that we’re anything more than what I tell them we are. I even pay off the soldiers that come around a couple of times a year so they continue to think we’re scared of them, just like a lot of the local businesses do. If any get too pushy, I take care of them and make sure no one finds them here. It’s a win-win.”
“I asked who funded you. I don’t give a shit about the rest.” That wasn’t completely true, of course. Having trained men for hire in the vicinity possibly put them in more danger than they’d been in before, despite Doc J’s insistence that it was done in secret. Zane was certain the soldiers were sent to sniff around the Americans far more than he was comfortable with. The only plus was that there would be more guns to fight with.
“It’s a private company with no ties to terrorism at home or abroad,” Doc J said.
“How do you know that for sure?”
“It’s funded by some former Army buddies of mine.”
“Mercs.”
“They help me, I help them.” Doc J paused. “The doc’s not in good shape mentally.”
“She’s getting better. I’m trying to get her to go home ASAP.”
“And you’re hoping I can talk some sense into her?” Doc J raised a brow as he spoke and Zane nodded.
“I want you to tell her to get the hell out of here. She’s in danger. She’s putting your whole operation at risk.”
“It’s always at risk. I offer a haven to anyone who wants to stay. Ama was a good friend. You want Olivia out, it’s your job to convince her.”
“You don’t understand who’s after her.”
“I know who’s after her, trust me on that. Word travels fast. And, like I said
, she’s not the only one bringing danger here.” Doc J nodded toward one of the back tents Zane assumed was used for supplies. “I’ve been hiding a family for the past five days.”
Zane’s gut tightened. “A family?”
“Mom, dad and two kids—a boy and girl, eight and ten,” Doc J confirmed. “Tristan’s going to get the kids to town. Would’ve already, but it’s been crazy around here.”
“Missionaries,” Zane said quietly, and Doc J just nodded. For a long while, Zane didn’t say anything. Couldn’t trust his voice—or his temper. Because there were kids … as young as he’d been.
“Mom’s dying and she knows it,” Doc J said, finally breaking the silence. “Randy—the father—does, but the kids don’t.”
“What about getting her better medical care?”
Doc J shook his head. “Won’t matter. She wouldn’t survive the trip. I’m assuming Olivia will confirm that.”
Doc J had been doing this long enough to know, Zane supposed, but still, he’d seen Liv work some magic.
“What about the father?” he asked finally, hands stuffed in his pockets, refusing to meet Doc J’s eyes again.
“He wants the kids to stay with Julia until the end. He thinks it’s too dangerous for them to travel now anyway—the soldiers have been threatening the parents with hurting the kids for months. They spoke out a little too much against the current government to a privately run newspaper, which was seen as incendiary, and now they’re all wanted for questioning, including the kids.”
Yeah, sounded about right. The soldiers didn’t like anyone teaching the people under their control that there was another way, that they might not have to live under oppression forever.
Zane scrubbed his face with his hands. “None of this can end well.”
“It ends how it’s ordained to. The best we can do is try to do what’s right.”
“I’ll get the kids to safety,” Zane said.
“I can’t ask that.”
“You didn’t,” Zane said sharply. “I can get them to the harbor—I’ve got people meeting me.”
Doc J looked at him. “Then what?”
“I’ll get them to Morocco, to the American embassy. From there, they can go home.” Zane paused. “I know they don’t want to, but it’s the best thing. Best if you tell Mom and Dad that too. Not that I give a shit what they think.”
“They’ve got a calling.”
“They shouldn’t drag children into it. That’s not fair.” Zane heard the fierce anger in his own voice.
Pull it back, man. “Forget it. Look, I’ll take them to Morocco. Get the parents on board.” He turned to walk away, heard Doc J say behind him, “I’ll try, Zane. I’ll do my best.”
Zane nodded, stopped, but didn’t turn around. Trying their best was all anyone could damn do these days. Of course, doing his best wasn’t nearly enough to cover the debt of those kids who’d been left behind when he was rescued … but it was better than nothing.
“You have to let them know those kids could be in danger with us,” Zane told him.
“I’ll tell them.” Doc J paused. “I’ll also tell them you’re capable of combat, despite being Navy.”
As Zane finally walked away, he knew the only thing left to do was let his brother in on the plan.
Yeah, and let Liv know as well. Shit.
He had cell service here, since they were much closer to Freetown. Dylan answered on the second ring, sounding less than happy. To his credit, he managed a “How are you” before he lit into Zane about not calling sooner.
Zane let him run on for a few minutes, because there was no real way to stop him, and he wondered if both Dylan and Cael still saw him as that feral eleven-year-old who’d come to live with them.
“… not listening to me,” Dylan was saying when Zane refocused.
“I’ve got some extra cargo,” he said. “Two kids. Going to Morocco.”
“I’m not running a camp, Zane.”
“They’re kids of some missionaries who got in trouble.”
He heard Dylan blow out a sigh, and his brother’s voice was much less harsh when he said, “Fine. Just fucking get here. We can’t hang out at the docks forever.”
“I’ll be there tonight.”
More cursing. And then, “If I don’t see you by 0100, I’m coming in to look for you.”
Zane hung up without answering, wondered if he should just fucking stay here with Liv and see what played out. It would be easier than dealing with all the shit they both needed to face when they hit the real world again.
It was then he noticed Tristan was sitting behind him, not looking like he cared one way or the other about the conversation he’d just heard one side of.
Instead, he held up a bottle of beer in Zane’s direction, and Zane accepted it, saying, “It’s Happy Hour some where,” and sat down on the ground next to Tristan, put his back against the building.
Finally, Tristan said, “If she stays, we’ll take care of her.”
Zane was well aware of how hard his hand tightened around the bottle, kept his eyes straight ahead as he heard himself say through gritted teeth, “Olivia’s not military trained. And I don’t think she’s got a desire to become a mercenary, so what would she do if she stayed here, besides be in danger?”
“What are you planning on doing, dragging her out of here caveman-style?”
Zane was about to say something—or better yet, throw something at the man who’d annoyed the hell out of him for the past several hours—when he caught Doc J out of the corner of his eye; he was staring toward the road, but there was no sign of approaching visitors.
Then, about a minute later, a car pulled off the road and into the compound, carrying two soldiers. Or locals dressed as soldiers. Wouldn’t matter, as both groups tended to use assault rifles, and to use them with an alarming regularity.
“I’ll handle it,” Doc J said, to both Zane and Tristan, then walked to the car. Zane glanced quickly over his shoulder, assuring himself that Olivia was still out of sight.
“They’ve been sniffing around more than usual lately, looking for the missionaries.” Tristan’s lips barely moved as he spoke, his expression unconcerned. It was all for show, of course, and Zane took the same stance. “They know we’re more than likely to help a family like that.”
“Will they search?”
“They know they’ll have to come in with guns and a show of force before Doc J would even think about it. They respect the man—as much as they respect anyone. But holding them off for much longer isn’t going to happen.”
Zane took a sip of the beer Tristan had handed him as the time stretched endlessly. In Zane’s book, patience had never been a virtue.
Finally, Doc J walked away from the soldiers, who hesitated a little too long before getting in their car and driving off.
“What’s up?” Tristan asked.
Doc J looked grim. “There’s talk of a reward offered for the capture of an American doctor. What better place to look for her than a clinic?”
“I didn’t think anything traveled that fast around here,” Zane muttered.
“You’d be surprised how fast when it involves money. And from what I’m hearing, this is serious money,” Doc J said with a shake of his head. “And since there’s also money involved for catching Julia and her family, they’re not leaving many stones unturned.”
“And we’ve got all the elements for the perfect storm headed our way,” Tristan finished, then took a slug of his beer. “Clear enough for you, squid?”
“Yeah, I’m clear.” Since both of his brothers were Army, Zane was more than used to hearing insults that were really more a show of competitive camaraderie than anything negative. “Did they mention DMH?”
Doc J shook his head no, but DMH had the kind of money to throw behind a bounty like this one. Zane wondered if he and Liv been tracked here. DMH tended to send in their men individually. One could easily be lurking near—he needed to make sure Liv stayed the hell ou
t of sight.
Needed to get her the hell out of this place. “They didn’t mention me, but DMH knows she’s traveling with an American military man. I have to get Olivia to Freetown now.”
Tristan looked at Doc J, who shook his head.
“No car available until Tristan gets back from his scheduled visit to the nearest village. The supplies he’s going to carry today are lifesaving. The village is on the verge of a typhoid epidemic—saving them saves us as well. Besides they’re watching. Leaving now is like sending a beacon.”
Zane fought the urge to pace. He didn’t like being trapped here but he’d been just as complicit as Olivia in that happening.
Doc J put a hand on his shoulder. “Taking you all out now is asking for trouble. Those soldiers will be hanging around for a bit. Waiting a couple of hours, letting them think we’re doing business as usual will be to all our benefit. Besides, you fit right in—they think you’re another one of my recruits.”
“That’s actually the best goddamned news I’ve heard today,” Zane said, and Tristan clinked the neck of his bottle with Zane’s before they both drained their beers in a small show of solidarity.
———
Vivi had slept for hours. When she woke, the blinds were drawn and the room was dark and she was pretty sure it was daylight but it was still disorienting. She heard Caleb moving around in the other room and she decided to take a shower before she faced him.
When she emerged from the bathroom, she walked right into him. He was glowering. It was a face she hadn’t seen on him since … well, since she’d first met him.
Seemed like a long time ago. She kept forgetting she barely knew him.
She put her hands up to hold the towel in place but he was right there, hands on her shoulders, his big body hovering over hers.
He could easily overpower her—this was more of a power play, she knew; what she didn’t understand was, why.
His look was predatory, reeked of distrust, and she forced herself to remain calm. She’d done nothing wrong. “What’s going on, Cael?”
He won’t hurt you. He will not hurt you …
There was steel in his bearing, and his words were ground out. “Tell me about your involvement with DMH.”
Promises in the Dark Page 19
