by Amy Gamet
On the third floor, Ben opened a door and held it for his brother. Zach walked in, scanning the open space with its dormered ceilings, ornate dark woodwork, and modern decor. A window air conditioner hummed beside a leather couch, the rain pelting its metal exterior. Moto turned to face his brother, the muscles of his arms flexing in preparation for the battle ahead.
Without a word, he punched Ben squarely in the jaw, sending him backwards into the closed door. “How could you do it?” Zach barked, grabbing a fistful of Ben’s shirt and hoisting his brother toward him. “How could you keep my own kid from me?” He pushed Ben hard in the chest, throwing him back against the door once more and advancing on him again.
Ben slunk to the floor, one hand holding his jaw and the other held up to ward off another attack. “You talked to Davina.”
“And my kid. What the fuck, Ben? Who in the hell do you think you are?”
“You should be thanking me. I took care of the mess you left behind. I raised that kid like my own—”
“Nobody fucking asked you to do that! Did it ever occur to you I might like to know my own child? Be a father to the kid I helped create?” He turned and paced, returning to Ben and enjoying how the other man cowered. “And you tried to marry her. Take the girl I loved and make her your wife.”
“I did what I thought was best.”
“Best? How in the hell is keeping my child away from me in anyone’s best interests but your own?”
Ben glared at him, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth as he got to a stand. “You’re a self-centered, egotistical ass.”
Zach considered punching him again, his fist already curling at his side, but he held off, needing to understand. “I was a kid, Ben. We all were.”
Ben shook his head. “No. It was bigger than that. You didn’t love Davina, you only loved yourself. I wasn’t just going to hand her and the baby over to the one person guaranteed to screw it up. I had a responsibility to protect them both.”
“If I was self-centered, it’s because I was driven. I wanted to succeed and no one was going to stand in my way. I loved her, damn it.”
“You left her without even letting her explain. I was there for her. I helped her through her pregnancy. I was at the birth.”
Zach sneered. “You make yourself out to be some kind of saint, when in reality you’re nothing but a goddamn loser. Why weren’t you back at college? Did you ever finish school?”
“Somebody had to be here to take care of Davina and the baby.”
“So you dropped out. Did you make it into the military?”
“Same answer, you arrogant fuck.”
“And you’re the same old jealous brother, failing at everything and pointing the finger at me.”
This time Ben came at him, fists flying. He got several good punches in before Moto got the upper hand, twisting Ben’s arm behind his back, but Ben wrapped his leg around Moto’s, toppling them to the ground. The brothers grappled and swore, pummeling each other with punches and jabs as each regained their footing. With a rage fueled by fury, Moto sent Ben flying into a tall glass lamp that had belonged to their mother. The lamp fell, shattering into a thousand pieces.
The men stood several feet apart, breathing heavily. “Why now?” asked Moto. “Why me? You could have called anyone in here to do this job, trace this shit and find out who’s after you. Why did you call me in now, after all these years? Just to torture me with a son who hates me for not being in his life? To show me you got everything that mattered?”
Moto was overwhelmed with emotion he didn’t know what to do with. He mourned for the loss of it all. The senselessness. He’d missed out on knowing his son, being a part of his life. It hurt more than anything he’d ever felt before, and his own brother had done it to him deliberately.
“Because I can’t protect them on my own. The people I work for are dangerous. They already killed a federal agent who got in their way. They say if I don’t do what I’m supposed to, they’ll kill Davina and Wyatt, too. I don’t know who I can trust.”
Moto had never needed to look out for anyone but himself, and the realization that Davina and his son were in danger sent a rush of protectiveness through him like he’d never felt before. “You can trust me.”
“Yes.” Their stares met, a tacit understanding passing between them. “This is your big chance, an opportunity to get back in their lives. Prove to me you aren’t going to fuck this up, that I really was wrong to lie to you all those years ago. Show Wyatt you care about this family.”
If Zach truly wanted a relationship with his son, he needed to save his brother, no matter he’d rather carry him across the River Styx and into Hades himself. He nodded slowly, acknowledging he was well and truly fucked. “Did you kill this guy?”
“Hell no.”
God only knew if that was true. Not that it mattered anymore. All that mattered was the family he never knew he had, and his only chance to fix the past. “Then give me your computer. Show me what you’ve got.”
“The cops took it. But I’ve got everything saved on the cloud.”
5
Moto sat at Ben’s dining room table, a streetlamp shining through the window as rain pattered on the air conditioner. An empty pizza box separated them, the screen of a brand-new laptop shining brightly in the dimly lit room. Every file had been restored, every setting, as if Ben’s actual computer had been replicated in every way and now sat before them.
Moto had calmed down, his earlier anger dissipating as he went through the damning files that had gotten Ben arrested. This was what Moto was good at, searching root directories and email headers, tracking down spoofed email addresses and hacked bits of code. Ben was good at it, too, though not as good as his brother, Ben’s natural affinity paling in comparison to some of the best computer training in the world.
Still, it made Moto sad to think what Ben could have made of his life and hadn’t. Ben had been every bit as capable as he. But they were different men, and they’d made different choices. Ben took a beer from the refrigerator and held it out to Moto.
“No, thanks.”
Ben opened it himself and took a long pull. “Lawyer’s going to meet us at the crime scene tomorrow.”
“Good.” Moto wanted to get as much information about the murder as possible. If it was necessary, maybe he’d even call in Trace from HERO Force to double-check the forensics. God knows forensic evidence had freed more than one innocent man, just as he hoped the digital forensics he was soaking in could free Ben.
“So, what do you think? Am I going down for murder?”
Moto sighed, tossing his pen onto the legal pad in front of him and running his hand through his hair. “They’ve got some pretty compelling evidence.”
“But it’s all made up.”
“Says you. Proving that is going to be difficult.” There were several files that appeared to have been created before the agent was killed, showing a detailed accounting of dirty money in and clean money out, and Ben’s supposed plans to further grow the business for his money laundering client. They could have been planted after the fact, but if that was the case, it had been done by someone with exceptional skills. Ben had been right to call him in, but unraveling this web was going to take some time.
Time he would be spending with Davina and Wyatt. The thought made him tense up. He was a trained warrior, ever prepared to do battle, but he was powerless against the two of them. “What was it like?”
“Getting arrested?”
“Raising my kid.” He hadn’t planned on asking. For the first time in their lives, the tables were turned—Zach was jealous of Ben, and he didn’t like it one bit.
“He’s the best thing in my life.”
Zach winced. He’d asked the question, but he hadn’t expected the answer to be so painful. He’d never seen himself as a father, never planned on having kids, but now that he knew he had one, he was slowly understanding just how much he’d missed.
Ben absently fingered the
label on his bottle of beer. “I saw him a couple of times a week. Babysat. Helped Davina when I could. She went back to school, you know, got her associate’s degree. Works as an ultrasound tech up at the hospital. She’s done real good for herself.”
Moto pointed with his chin. “Give me one of those after all.” Ben moved to the kitchen. “She wanted to be a doctor,” Moto called after him, remembering her dreams. “Go to medical school.”
“She’s trying, but she can only do two courses a semester with her job.”
“She’s in med school?”
Ben shook his head. “Got to finish her undergrad first.”
Guilt was a physical force pushing down on Moto, and he drank deeply. He’d been out West pursuing his dreams, reaching for the stars unencumbered, while she’d be back here struggling for what she wanted, her entire timetable turned upside down by parenting his child. “Shit.”
“Looks like you did pretty well for yourself. Navy?”
“SEALs.” He pushed the bottle of beer away from him. It tasted like bad decisions and an utter lack of control.
“I know. Degree?”
“Master’s.”
“Surprised you didn’t go right for the doctorate. Why’d you leave the SEALs?”
That was a complicated question for him to answer to himself, and one he’d been struggling with for some time. But the answer surprised him, coming quickly to his lips. “I needed more control over my own life.”
Ben laughed without humor. “You always wanted to be in charge.”
“I love my country. I thought I could serve.”
“And you let yourself down when you couldn’t. Failure comes in all different forms, little brother.”
His eyes met Ben’s. Failure wasn’t the word Zach would use, and he hated that it was appropriate. He had failed as a Navy SEAL. He wasn’t able to put his love of country before his love of self. He’d served with Razorback, for God’s sake—had watched the other man lose his face in the name of freedom. And shame upon shame, he hadn’t wanted it to be him. “I do good work for HERO Force.”
“I’m sure you do.”
“But I do it on my terms.”
“You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”
Moto clenched his teeth, then took another sip of his drink. Ben was goading him. He took several deep breaths, then pointed to Ben’s files on the computer screen. “Who are these people you were working with? Whoever planted this shit has top-notch computer skills.”
“Foreign investors. That’s all I know. Moved into the area a couple of years ago, started buying everything up.”
“And you were their Realtor.”
“I thought it was my lucky day. I was finally coming into my own. Business went from middle-of-the-road to booming literally overnight. My commissions were three times what they used to be, then four, then five. All the transactions were anonymous.”
“Isn’t that illegal?”
“Not here. Some places. Too many concerns about money laundering. I had no reason to suspect anything was out of the ordinary until that federal agent showed up, asking questions.”
Moto shook his head. “So you know that anonymous real estate transactions can be used as a cover for money laundering, but you didn’t suspect anything was wrong until the federal government knocked on your door?”
“That’s right.”
“Jesus, Ben.” Moto pushed out from the table and stood. “Who the hell do you think you’re fooling here? Is it me, or is it yourself?”
Ben sat back, his jaw set. “I looked into the company. Researched it on the internet, including their corporate officers. Everything I found made it look like they were on the up-and-up.”
“Except they weren’t. You had to know the whole damn time.” He shook his head and gestured to the computer screen. “This is just like you. You haven’t changed a bit. You’re complicit. Even if you had nothing to do with that agent’s actual death, you were up to your ankles in illegal activity and chose to turn a blind eye.”
Ben stood up. “I did not. I asked questions, wanting more details about the transactions and exactly what the properties were being used for. Then the president of the company came to see me. He told me I had potential, that I just needed to trust them on some things, and my loyalty would be rewarded.”
“So, he bribed you to shut up.”
“What do you want from me, Zach? I fucked up, okay? I trusted some guys I shouldn’t have trusted, and they fucked me over. I thought this was the chance I’d been waiting for.”
“You have to take some responsibility!”
“I thought DeRegina was the real deal. You should look him up yourself just to see—”
Zach’s head jerked back. “Who?”
“Archie DeRegina. He’s a real big shot in Germany, owns a whole conglomerate with government contracts and stuff.”
“Archie DeRegina is the president of the company you work for?”
“Yeah.”
“Ben, DeRegina is famous in crime circles. He’s a drug dealer, responsible for importing more than half the heroin that comes into the US from Afghanistan. The government’s been trying to pin him with something for years.” DeRegina was as big as they got, and the small potatoes in front of them didn’t make any sense. “Why the hell would a guy like DeRegina be interested in small-time real estate deals in this neck of the woods? Even with all the property he bought, it’s only a fraction of a percent of his business, and he’s exposing himself to risk by including you in his scheme. I need to call HERO Force.” He pulled out his phone, the digital clock on his home screen reading just after ten p.m.
“Fuck.” He ran a hand through his hair. He’d lost track of time, knee-deep in computer code. “I’m late to meet Davina. I’ll call HERO Force from the car.”
“What should I do?”
Moto closed the computer and tucked it beneath his arm. “Just hang tight. I’ll see you tomorrow morning with the lawyer.”
6
Mac O’Brady carried an empty box down the shiny corridor of HERO Force New York and headed toward his office. His leg was sore where it met his prosthesis, too much time spent standing up today, but he had a lot to do.
Two years ago, he’d been drunk off his ass in a three-hundred-year-old house in France, hoping—when he was sober enough to hope—that his wife and kids would find their way back to him. Hawk picked him up out of the dirt, brought him back to the States, and put him in charge of the motley crew of men who became Mac’s shattered SEALs.
He’d only agreed because he thought the move would help him find Ellie, and it had. When he discovered a serial killer in Mobile, Alabama, had murdered Ellie’s cousin, he used HERO Force’s resources to track down her extended family—a task far easier than locating Ellie herself. The cousin’s husband had helped Ellie get back on her feet after the murder and had several clues as to her whereabouts since then—clues Mac needed to investigate in person.
But that wasn’t the only thing HERO Force had done for Mac. Helping these men become useful again had helped him regain his inner strength, the core of who he was as a person, which had become muddled and lost the moment he lost the lower part of his leg in battle. He understood now why Ellie left, understood exactly what it was she’d been missing.
The whole time he’d been nurturing these men, he’d been nursing himself back to health. He was ready now to take the next step and do what needed to be done to locate his wife and family, to complete his own journey, no matter the ending. Much as he hated to admit it, even to himself, he was strong enough to make it if she refused to take him back.
Most of the guys were in town tonight, which made this a good time for the announcement he’d been waiting almost three weeks to make. Moto was dealing with his own family shit, and Mac would have to talk to him privately after the fact. There was no reason to put this off any longer.
He put the box on the floor beside his desk and began emptying drawers. The office supplies he’d l
eave for Razorback. Only the personal shit was coming home. He found an empty bottle of whiskey in the bottom drawer behind some file folders, shame filling him as he remembered the transgression. It had to be almost a year ago, so that, at least, was good.
There was only so much you could expect from an old drunk like him.
He picked up a picture from the top of his desk, Ellie’s laughing eyes winking back at him, and he smiled. While it was hard to leave a job he’d come to love, the reason he was leaving made it easy. This was the right decision and the right time for it, time to focus on the only thing that mattered and put all his attention back where it belonged.
The kids were nearly grown now, the memories of his son and daughters piercing in their clarity, and his eyes stung with unshed tears. A stronger man would have hated Ellie for taking them away, but he knew all too well why she’d done it.
Self-hatred was a funny thing. It didn’t stay contained in a little box inside your chest, affecting only you. It spilled out through your pores, emanating from your soul like a contagious disease. He’d been terrible to those kids, with a fuse so short it was all but missing, anger and aggravation his dominant emotions. That wasn’t what a father should be, and he prayed he’d have the chance to make it up to his children.
His eyes roamed the space one last time. He wasn’t closing the door shut behind him, Jax and Cowboy had been clear. This was a leave of absence, not a permanent resignation, but as Mac hefted his meager belongings onto his hip, he knew it wasn’t likely he’d be back here any time soon, and if he was being honest, he doubted he’d come back at all. He needed something different now.
A bridge to a new beginning. A final battle to find his love, so perhaps one day he could find peace. He could see now that might be possible for him, a happy ending that had once been as elusive as rainwater through a paper bag. He stood, throwing the empty bottle in the trash beside his desk and leaving the box with his belongings on the floor.
