Twisted Mercy (Red Team Book 4) (27 page)

“You can tell Mads if I don’t.”

“Sure. Either way, I’m dead.” He got up and handed her his empty glass. “It’s been cool knowing you. I probably won’t see you again.”

“Don’t be like that.”

He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked at her, his face longer than she’d ever seen. “It’s true. If you go to the Feds, and Pete finds out, you won’t be allowed back here. And if Mad Dog asks me where you are, I’ll get my ass handed to me and a free ride ten miles out to nowhere for letting you go. And for not telling him immediately.”

“Maybe there’s no one home at the Feds’ place. Maybe I’ll get there and have to just turn around. Maybe Lion really isn’t there.”

“Yeah, and maybe they’ll lie to you.” He pressed his lips together and scrunched up his face. “You were one of the cool ones. I liked you.” He pivoted and walked away.

Hope sighed as she watched him walk away. Hopefully she could get to the Feds and back before anyone knew. Maybe Feral was right, maybe the Feds would hide Lion from her, but she didn’t care. She had to try.

At worst, she’d be putting them on notice that she knew they had him. At best, she’d get him back. If she did, they weren’t going to go back to the compound. She was going to get her brother as far away as she could in the next twelve hours.
 

* * *

Hope felt her nerves sharpen as she flew down the road toward the place where Feral said the Feds were holed up. She ran through several scenarios, practicing what she would say, how she could retrieve her brother.
 

She almost missed the turn. The driveway was not easily seen from the road. She went up the drive slowly. Finally, the house came into view, growing larger the closer she came. It was a sprawling thing, with two great wings. She parked in the front, then marched up to the big wooden door. There was a doorbell, but no doorknocker.

She rang the bell, then tried not to fidget as she waited for someone to answer her summons. The cameras moved to observe her. She buzzed the doorbell again. Maybe no one was home. There were no cars parked in the front.
 

She lifted her fist and banged on the door itself. It helped alleviate a small portion of her frustration, but did nothing to further her cause. And it hurt her fist.
 

The door opened suddenly on her next swing. She caught herself in time to keep from hitting the angry-looking guy standing at the threshold. She recognized him. He was the flattop dude from the market, the one she’d seen at the rodeo. He did not look welcoming at all. She took a step back. All the words she’d practiced deserted her.
 

“I’ve come for my brother.” The guy didn’t blink, didn’t react to her announcement in any way. He was too big for her to push aside. “I know he’s here.”

“Let her in,” a man said from the shadows…a man whose voice she knew intimately. Mad Dog. Her spine went cold, chilling the rage that had been boiling the whole way there.
 

The flattop guy stepped back and let her enter. She looked at Mads as she moved into the cavernous entryway. There were other guys standing nearby, all of them bigger and meaner-looking than any of the bikers in the WKB. She stayed near the door, preferring the security of being able to make a fast escape if the pack of men moved too fast.

She glanced at Mads. He didn’t look as if he were there against his will, which could only mean he was one of them…and that he’d set her up with the trip to Cheyenne Frontier Days.

“Explain yourself,” she demanded.

Mads laughed, his face wrinkling with humor, but it was a forced sound. And when he looked at her again, the humor drained away too fast.
 

“Leave us,” he ordered without taking his eyes from her. Most of the men moved down the hall. The big flattop guy stayed, as did one other guy she hadn’t seen before.

Mads moved nearer, wearing his worst angry face. Feral probably wet himself when he was the recipient of that look. But she wasn’t Feral, and she wasn’t easily cowed. She was more certain than ever that Lion was here.
 

The flattop guy pressed a hand to Mads’ chest, halting his forward motion. “Take it to the den.” He sent a fast nod upward, toward a bridge connecting two wings of the house. It hadn’t been her imagination, then, that two little faces had been peering out at them from just inside the hallway up there.

Mads’ gaze swiveled to the guy, who gave orders like a leader. He grimaced, then reached for her. She pulled back. “I’m not going anywhere with you. I want my brother, then we’ll get out of your hair.”

“No. Neither of you are leaving.”

“Feral knows where I am, Mads. Or Mad Dog.” She shook her head, realizing that neither of the names she had for him were really his name. “Who are you?”

Mads didn’t answer, but the other guy who’d stayed behind with them chuckled at his nickname. He had light brown hair and gray eyes. He was leaning with a foot braced on the wall behind him. He pushed off the wall and came toward her. She stood her ground.

He held out a hand. “I’m Ty Holt. Welcome to my home.”

“Your home,” she repeated. Her gaze bounced from him to Mads and the flattop guy. “Are you Feds?”

Ty smiled and looked at the flattop guy. “No.”

“I don’t want trouble” she said, uncertain really to whom she should speak. “I just want to take my brother and go. We won’t talk about you guys or this place or anything.” She didn’t look at anyone in particular when she spoke, just kept her gaze on the table in the center of the entranceway. Her heart was starting to beat a deadly warning. Something was so not right with this situation.

“Hope, I’m here.”

Her head shot up at a man’s soft voice. “Lion!” She hurried over to him. Her hands went to his face, checking for injuries. She touched his neck, his shoulders, his arms. She didn’t care if it seemed incongruous for her to be checking out her much larger brother. He was her baby brother. He’d lived his life without anyone to care or worry about him.
 

And maybe she needed someone to care for.
 

“Are you all right?”

“Yes. You should go back,” he said.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

“Let’s take this to the den,” the blond soldier repeated.

She stepped in front of her brother, protecting him. Her brother put his hands on her shoulder and gently moved her aside. “Don’t step in front of The Lion,” he bent down and said. “It’s not up to you to shield me.”
 

Her gaze flashed over to Mads. Only then did she realize how much of a safe harbor he’d become for her in such a short time. But no longer. Now he was all rushing freeway traffic and she was a dog caught between lanes.
 

She slipped her hand down the inside of her brother’s arm and caught his hand. Lion lifted their joined hands, considering them. She had the strangest feeling he’d never been touched with common affection from a woman.
 

The men were moving down the hall, toward some unknown destination. Mads stayed with her and Lion. She looked over at him. His gaze was hard, unfriendly. He lifted a hand, gesturing for them to follow the others.

She moved with her brother down the hall. “Who are these people?” she whispered, leaning toward him.

“I haven’t decided.”

“Are you in danger?”

“Again, that remains to be seen.”

“Are they Feds? The WKB seem to think so.”

“I don’t think they are from your government.”

“
Our
government.”

“I don’t exist in the eyes of your government.”

They stepped into a long, narrow room, dense with heavy paneling, bookshelves, a big desk, and leather sofa and chairs. She hadn’t counted the guys before, but there seemed to be more of them in here—five in all. They took various seats, settling on the arms of the furniture and leaning against the wall.

The flattop guy shut the door after Mads entered. She was terribly grateful to have her brother’s hand to hold. Mads perched a hip on the corner of the big desk. Her mind flashed back to last night. She thought of the way he’d held her, made her feel safe, promised her that things would work out all right.

Had he faked that? All of it?

Apparently. And so be it. He wasn’t the first bastard she’d slept with. And with her luck, probably wouldn’t be the last.

“Miss Townsend,” another blond man said as he stood up from behind the desk and gestured toward a chair in front of his desk—one entirely too near Mads.

“No, thank you,” she said. “Could you please tell me what’s going on?”

The guy came out from his desk and pulled one of the chairs out, moving it so that she didn’t have her back to anyone. He waved a hand toward the seat and gave her a small smile. God, his eyes were so pale, like the part of the sky closest to the sun. Slight wrinkles fanned out from his eyes, and thin lines bracketed his mouth. He wasn’t quite as tall as some of the others, but he was at least six feet. Maybe more. And whipcord lean. He moved through the room with an authority she’d only seen in the flattop guy. And Mads.

He pushed out the other guest chair, moving it next to hers. He gestured to her brother. “Lion.” His tone with her brother was far less deferential. When she was seated, he went back to his chair behind the desk.

“Miss Townsend, I’m Owen Tremaine. These men work for me.” She sent a look around the room. “I believe you’ve met Max Cameron.” He indicated Mads.

She shook her head. “No, I don’t think I have.” He didn’t smile this time. Nor did he shrink from the anger in her eyes.

“You may have run into my team lead, Kit Bolanger.” He nodded toward the flattop guy now standing close to Lion. And that was the end of the introductions. “Miss Townsend, we have a situation.”

Hope scoffed, “You think?”

Owen’s eyes hardened. “We know what happened with your mother.” He looked at Lion. “We’re learning what happened with your brother.” She looked over at Lion. His face was less insolent and a lot more resigned. Sad, even. Without his anger, his tatted brows seemed haunting.
 

“I’d like to ask you to be patient with us while we work through some things,” Owen continued.

“I don’t understand.”
 

“And unfortunately, for your safety, there isn’t much more I can tell you.”

“…for your safety…”
Those words triggered a memory, one long suppressed.
 

Her mom tugged a fleece jacket on her. It was the yellow one her mom favored, but she’d never liked it. She’d fussed about it until her mom had knelt in front of her. Gripping the edges of the zippered sides, she’d pulled the fabric tight, forcing Hope to look at her. “Don’t fuss. We have to go with these men. Right now. For our safety.”

But they hadn’t kept them safe, had they? Not a week later, her mom was dead and Hope had been shuffled off to live with strangers. Her gaze speared Mads’, reading his reaction to Owen’s statement. His face showed only wariness.
 

“No thanks. I’ll just take my brother and we’ll leave.”

“Hope, there’s a helluva lot more at play here than getting a boy out of a cult,” Max said. “I will find a safe place for you. You can’t go back to the compound. Your protection is one of the demands your brother’s made in exchange for his help.”

A chill whispered down her spine. Her brother, who’d been so resistant to the thought of their being related, had put her welfare before his own. He’d thought of her first. Tears welled in her eyes.

“Lion.” She reached for his hand, “I want you to come with me.”

“I can’t. This is where the war is.”

“What war? There is no war.”

“I’m afraid he’s right, Miss Townsend,” Owen said.

She glared at him, irritated he was fanning the flames of her brother’s madness. She looked around the room, meeting the intense eyes of the men. The room seemed to close in on her. She got to her feet and began pacing around. This couldn’t be real. None of this made sense. She folded her arms in front of her. Lion was watching her with his ancient and calm eyes.
 

She drew a fast breath, then another, feeling as if she couldn’t possibly get enough air. She was vaguely aware of Mads coming toward her. She was gasping for air now. There was no air in the room. None. She gripped her throat. Why couldn’t she breathe?
 

Suddenly, she wasn’t walking anymore. Mads was running with her, carrying her outside. She felt the chill of the shadowed portico, then the flash of sun as it poured over her feet, her body. Her head fell back against his arm. Sun blazed down on her face. She didn’t close her eyes. Couldn’t. For the longest moment, she felt as if she were floating, like a cloud.

“Breathe, Hope,” Mads’ deep voice ordered her. “Just breathe. You’re gonna be fine. It’s all gonna be fine.”

His words were an elixir to her ravaged spirit. But it was lies, all of it. It had never been fine. It was never going to be fine. She closed her eyes and slipped into the beckoning blackness. Mads didn’t let go of her. He lifted her body to his face, crushed her against him.
 

“C’mon, baby. Don’t do this. I swear to God, I won’t leave you alone in this. Don’t leave me alone. Please.”

There was pain in his voice. She could hear him so clearly, as if he’d come into her void. Maybe the blackness was his and she’d just slipped into it. She drew a deep, slow breath.

“Another. Take another breath, baby. I got you.” She could feel his warm breath on her cold cheek. She matched her breathing to his.
 

After a bit, she opened her eyes, and slowly took stock of herself and her surroundings. They were outside. He was holding her tightly in his arms, cradling her as if her weight was nothing more than an armful of pillows. She leaned up and pushed free of him, wobbling for a second on her feet. He kept his arms open and near her, but not touching her. She hadn’t been aware of how far outside they’d come in the seconds when she was struggling to breathe.

She looked at the house, then turned away and walked toward the north end of the big house and the garage wing. She couldn’t go back inside that house. She was going to walk the long way around, get in her truck, and leave. She’d go back to the compound and regroup.