Because they knew he probably couldn’t escape even if he was free?
“Brenden?” She strained toward him. “Damn you, why did you come here?”
Why did he always have to risk himself?
She wanted to kick him for it even if she knew this was who he was. Neither of them could change who they were at their core.
He rolled to his side and spat. His good eye peered up at her.
“We have to delay them,” he said. His voice was rough, and he didn’t sound right.
“Brenden, they’re going to kill you. I don’t want you to die with me.” If she had to die, couldn’t he live?
He settled on his back. “I fucked up.”
“I’ll say. You shouldn’t have come here.”
“You don’t get to die alone. You don’t get to die at all.” His one good eye was unwavering. “You’re strong.”
“Brenden, they don’t want anything from me. They just want to kill me. You. Carlson. There is no time.”
“The team knows where I am.”
Why wasn’t the team here with him? Where were they? Why had Brenden come alone?
There were so many questions, and yet all she could do was sit there staring at him.
“Last night, I was stupid.”
“That’s what you want to talk about right now?”
“If you’re right and this is all the time we have, yeah.” He shifted, finding a more comfortable position. “If you’re right and they kill us, you should know I regretted everything I said last night.”
She was both mad he wanted to talk about their petty problem now, and overjoyed to hear that maybe there was hope for them. Albeit a short lived hope.
“Listen to me.” He stared up at her. “You’re probably the best thing that’s happened to me since they pulled me out of that pit. I was too stupid to tell you that last night, and if they kill me before the team gets here I want you to know that. I’d go on as many dates with you as you wanted. I’d...”
Priscilla’s chest ached. She’d wanted to hear this last night. Anger had sustained her, but now that was gone and all she desired was lying battered and broken in front of her.
She couldn’t love him more.
His mouth moved and wrinkles furrowed his brow.
“I love you,” he said. “If I die, I want you to know that.”
Priscilla gaped at him, her power to speak gone.
Love?
Was he serious?
It wasn’t just her?
Feelings like this, this sense of belonging, she’d thought it had to be all in her head, but maybe it wasn’t. He’d woken up the need for love in her because he met that need.
And some greedy bastard wanted to take this away?
Damian stepped into the room, followed by his goons.
“Load them up. We have to get on the road,” he said, destroying her perfect moment.
Two of the black clad guys locked eyes on her.
“Wait. No. You can’t!” She pressed up against the fireplace.
The bigger man closed in. she kicked out, but he grabbed her ankle. The other moved in, grabbing her other leg and though she tried, they pinned her with their weight, stretching her out.
The binding holding her to the fireplace popped, and she brought her elbows down hard on the bigger man. He spat a curse word and his weight shifted. She brought her knee up, into his soft middle.
“Stop struggling or I’ll kill him right now,” Damian roared.
Priscilla froze, the sight of a gun aimed at Brenden’s head while another man held him down breaking her heart and filling her with more nightmares.
They were going to kill Brenden, anyway. Logically it didn’t make sense for her to bide her time for later, except she knew the rest of his team was more than likely searching for him. He’d said buy them time. She hoped these moments were enough.
Damian’s goons hauled her to her feet then carried her to the garage and shoved her into the back of the SUV. They bound her ankles and secured her to the seat.
If the rest of the Aegis team was out there, why weren’t they busting in now to save the day?
DAY. LOCATION, CITY, State.
Arturo gripped the wheel of the sports car, savoring the road ahead of them.
“What exactly is the plan?” Damian asked.
The mercenary had stuck close to Arturo’s side, probably because neither of them trusted the other.
“I told you,” Arturo said.
“Tell me again.” Damian twisted to face him.
“Fine.” Arturo sighed. “Carlson’s house will lead to questions. You used enough ammonia on the blood it shouldn’t be traceable. We make it look like Carlson had the woman beat up before he murdered her. The big guy we shoot. He doesn’t matter. I’ve loaded enough evidence on the laptop to make Carlson guilty. When he arrives, we make it look like a suicide then get out. It’s all over. Nice and neat.”
“In my experience neat plans lead to disasters.”
“Then do you have a better idea?” Arturo narrowed his gaze at Damian while they waited for the light to turn green.
Damian’s face twisted up. “No.”
“Good.” Arturo glanced in the rearview mirror at the SUV carrying their insurance. “This isn’t my first rodeo.
TUESDAY. UNKNOWN, CHICAGO, Illinois.
Brenden should have known better.
He let his eyes shut again. Or more appropriately, his eye. The left was nearly swollen shut.
Waiting for the team would have been the better choice. But how should he have known Priscilla’s kidnappers had a timeline?
He’d rushed in because he let his emotions get in the way, and now he might have blown their chances at getting rescued. His tracker was likely fried thanks to the EMP. The goons had taken and destroyed his phone. That left his one and only hope his comm unit.
The device had a GPS tracking feature, but only when it was turned on. It was still in his pocket, but there was no way he’d be able to power the thing on to signal the team. If he could do that, he might as well give them a rundown.
If Priscilla died because he’d been foolish, he hoped they killed him.
Time dragged on.
Their car ride got longer and longer as they left Chicago and its suburbs behind.
Every so often he opened his eye and watched Priscilla or found her watching him.
He’d told her he loved her and he meant it. It didn’t make up for him being an ass, but at least she knew. In a perfect world they’d have that date, and then another. Things might be destined to fizzle out what with the physical distance, but at least he’d give it a chance.
The SUV slowed, the tires softly squealed signaling the need for new brakes, then stopped. They’d stopped at dozens of lights and stop signs. It wasn’t different. But this time, instead of the vehicle idling, it cut off.
They were at their final destination.
Brenden opened his good eye, his aching body on alert.
He had no grand plan to free them other than seizing an opportunity and hoping his team showed up. Those weren’t excellent options.
“Pris?” Brenden strained to get closer to her.
She stared at him, her eyes wide and lips parted.
“It’s going to get worse before it gets better. We’re going to be okay.” He had to believe it.
The back of the SUV opened, revealing a cramped one-car garage. Brenden did his best to lay there and look ten times as terrible as he felt. The men seemed to take the bait and hauled him out first. He didn’t dare try anything now what with two of the men holding guns on them.
Their new location was another house, this one out in the country on two acres of land on a sleepy stretch of street. At least that was what Brenden glimpsed from the windows they passed.
Arturo and Damian were already there, presumably because they could risk a bit more speed in the sports car.
“Put them here. Tie them up.” Arturo gestured at a support column in
the middle of the living room.
Brenden went along with the directions, sitting on the floor and allowing the men to secure his arms around the two-by-two column of wood. He hadn’t seen stairs or any kind of basement, which meant this was what they had. A small house with just a few rooms.
The men sat Priscilla down next to him, her arms also around the column.
A spark of hope lit in his chest.
The men finished with them and withdrew, following Arturo and Damian into the dining area toward the back of the house.
Brenden stared at Priscilla, not daring to speak. She met his gaze, still alert, still ready for her opening. He very slowly glanced down at his pocket then back at her.
Her brows rose, and he heard the sharp intake of her breath.
How he couldn’t wait to hear that sound in a much more pleasurable setting, but first they had to survive.
Priscilla twisted around so she faced the column between them. He leaned away slightly, feeling the comm press into his thigh. Her nimble fingers dipped into his pocket then wiggled further, gathering the lining to her and dumping the device into her palm.
“There’s a tine switch. Flip it and put it back.” Brenden was about seventy percent sure the guys would come. That last thirty accounted for unknown variables, like being arrested or ordered back home, and also the possibility that no one was monitoring the comms.
“He should be here in two hours,” someone said.
“Carlson?” Priscilla whispered.
Brenden grimaced. “Probably. If they want to make it look like he killed us, yeah.”
The good thing was that two hours gave his team plenty of time to get here. If they were coming.
“Some self-defense instructor I am. I get kidnapped twice in two weeks,” she muttered.
“Hey.” He leaned toward her. “You did everything right. These people had the advantage in numbers and the element of surprise. You did everything you should have.”
“Thanks. I needed to hear that.” She blew out a breath. “A bathtub and a steak dinner is sounding pretty good about now.”
Was that a glimmer of hope?
“In that order?” he asked.
A fleeting smile curved her lips. “However I can get it.”
His heart hurt, both from hope and because she was once more in danger. “I really am sorry about last night.”
“You said that. I forgave you.”
“That quick?”
“I spent a lot of time last night telling myself how wrong you were before I realized the most important thing I learned in the last few days.” Her hands rest on his thigh and she leaned forward, legs curled under her and her cheek against the column.
He caught himself swaying toward her. He was hungry for the knowledge. “What’s that?”
“That I am capable of caring for people. That I care about you. That I’ve always thought I’d have to sacrifice something of myself to be with someone. But you accepted me completely. I’ve been hiding, burying myself in work and choosing to not live my life. You reminded me there’s more to it. That there’s more to me, and I want more.”
He bit the inside of his cheek. She had forgiven him, but had he completely crushed his chances with her?
“Can I be corny?” she asked.
Brenden placed his hands on her knees, unable to keep from touching her. “You can be whatever you want.”
“It feels like...this was supposed to happen. We were supposed to meet. And if we survive this, there’s no one else I’d rather take on a date.”
“You’re taking me?”
“Well I am the one who asked. We’ve kind of had this role reversal going on, in case you haven’t noticed. I chased you down. I wanted to see your tub.” Another smile lit her face from the inside out.
“I seem to remember I kissed you first.” Though he also couldn’t deny he hadn’t made the first moves. He wasn’t as strong as she was. He didn’t have her tenacity to reach for what she wanted, but he as damn glad she had.
“Did you? Are you sure?” She stared at him, and for a moment he could almost imagine it was just them, alone, somewhere else.
“I meant what I said earlier,” he said.
“Which part?”
“I love you.” The second time around the words sounded less desperate.
She didn’t flinch or even seem surprised. She just soaked them up.
“I ask you on a date and you freak out then you counter with I love you?” She snorted a laugh.
“Yeah.” He knew it was a leap, but if things didn’t go well, if something happened to him, he wanted her to know.
She licked her lips. “Well—”
“Everyone, places,” Damian bellowed. He strode through the house into the living room. “Carlson is early.”
Brenden reached over and wrapped his hands around her wrists.
How long had they been here? Half an hour?
He peered at the front windows, watching for any sort of movement. A couple cars passed, but it was a sleepy, quiet street. Likely that was one of the reasons they were out this far. Not many witnesses.
Damian barked orders. The goons moved furniture around, clearing a better view of the windows for Brenden, but also setting the stage for their death.
It was a good plan, to use them to pin the whole thing on Carlson, and Brenden didn’t doubt they’d get away with it if the person who’d stumbled onto the evidence was anyone other than Priscilla. But they’d tangled with the wrong woman and she had Brenden on her side.
A lone jogger plodded past going at a slow rate.
Brenden fought the urge to sit up straighter.
He knew that blond hair. That shirt, those shorts.
Nolan.
The team was there.
They must have been close the whole time, just moments behind Damian and Arturo.
Brenden glanced around the house. If the team could hear him, he needed to give them as much intel about what was going on as he could.
“Hey, Pris?” Brenden leaned closer and dipped his head. “How many tacos do you think I could eat?”
She frowned at him and furrowed her brow.
He glanced at the goons, praying she’d understand his meaning. She’d seen the number of guys they were up against, he hadn’t.
“I bet you could eat at least five,” she said slowly. “I’d probably only eat two.”
Five goons, Damian and Arturo.
“We’d order seven,” Brenden said.
“What are you two talking about?” Arturo came to stand over them.
“What we’re going to eat when we’re done here,” Priscilla said without skipping a beat.
Arturo snorted.
“Aaron says they’re fifteen minutes out.” Damian peered at his phone. “Should we kill these two now or wait?”
“Wait. In case something else goes wrong it’s easier to transport the living.”
The fifteen minutes passed quickly with no other signal from Brenden’s team. Priscilla kept staring at him, but he couldn’t answer her with the other men in the room.
A black town car pull into the driveway at long last. Two men get out. One of them was Carlson.
“Everyone, to the back of the house,” Damian ordered.
The goons and Damian pulled back into the dining room.
“Pris, this is where things are going to get scary,” Brenden whispered without looking at her. “Keep your head down.”
“What’s going on? Tacos?”
“Five goons, Damian, Arturo, right?”
“Yeah.”
The doorbell rang. A single pair of footsteps trekked across the house.
Neither of them spoke as Arturo welcomed Carlson and another man into the house.
“You shouldn’t have left early,” Arturo said as he shut the door behind the two.
Carlson stopped and stared at Brenden. “That man accosted me in the lobby. I had no choice.”
“He suspected you because you were
stupid.” Arturo spat the words.
The man called Aaron moved then, coming up behind Carlson and grabbing the smaller man’s arms.
“Hey. What—hey!” Carlson struggled weakly. A man like him had likely never been threatened. He was accustomed to wealth and power.
Arturo grabbed Carlson’s face. “You fucked this up.”
Damian strolled around the kitchen. “Hey, there. Looks like you met my right-hand man.”
Carlson’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head. It would have been comical if Brenden weren’t included in this drama.
“Damian and I talked. We agreed the weak link here is you. Someone’s going down for this and it sure as hell isn’t me.” Arturo shoved Carlson back against Aaron.
“I’m not paying for your stupidity either,” Damian said chiming in.
Carlson seemed to realize the danger he was in. His voice wavered as he spoke. “We can talk this through. Make a deal.”
“No.” Arturo turned and gestured, looking past Brenden.
His stomach dropped.
“Here’s the story we’re going to tell.” Arturo waved his fingers. “When you realized you were going to get caught, you and your partner Ms. Yilmaz here got together to try to sort things out.”
A goon grabbed Brenden under the arm and another sliced the zip tie holding his wrists around the column.
“No. Wait. No!” Priscilla grabbed for him, her cries so heartbreaking he wanted to fight back.
But he couldn’t.
Arturo came to stand next to Carlson. At some point Arturo had donned a pair of gloves. “Her boyfriend shows up and you kill him.”
“What?” Carlson wiggled left then right, a poor fish trying to escape the net.
Brenden stared past them, out the window, waiting for a signal or a sign to act, praying his team didn’t wait too long. Carlson continued to struggle as Aaron and another man wearing gloves held out his right arm. Arturo placed a revolver in the guy’s hand and held it there for him.
There it was.
Brenden braced himself.
This was going to hurt.
He’d been held down and shot when he was a prisoner, only then he’d been struggling. This time, he couldn’t risk putting a single player off their mark for his sake.
Dangerously Broken (Aegis Group Lepta Team Book 4) Page 21
