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Authors: Tere Michaels

BOOK: Who Knows the Dark
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No—it was a hallucination.

No—Rachel said the bosses Carson had double-crossed had murdered his father.

An unexpected memory forced Nox to close his eyes; the phantom pain of the man who’d grabbed him, the one who’d told him to back off his vigilantism or Sam would be prosecuted. He scoured every second he could remember—the man’s voice, what he knew. He knew about Natalie, he knew about Sam, but no. The voices—they didn’t match.

They didn’t match, did they?

Could they?

His turmoil reached the point of physical illness, the room swimming and pulsing around him. The urge to get out of the bed overpowered him as his breath caught.

No air, there wasn’t air….

“Shhh,” a male voice murmured, and a second later, a flood of warmth from his arm to his chest made the presence of medication known. Nox found his breath again, spots dancing before his eyes when he finally pried them open.

Dr. Khanna stood above him, his dark eyes holding warmth and sympathy.

“A bit of panic—unsurprising for what you went through.” Dr. Khanna patted at his wrist. “I gave you something to ease your mind. There you go—keep breathing.”

It got easier, the knots loosening. Nox felt the edges of sleep reach their arms out for him, but once again the doctor touched his wrist.

“No, no. Don’t fall asleep. It might not be the best time, but you have a visitor.” Dr. Khanna’s voice held a note of disapproval, but Nox had no time to try to make sense of it. He heard the door open, a quiet creak, and then the doctor moved away.

The man who took his place was tall and of slender build, with neatly tamed graying brown hair and serious blue eyes. He looked down at Nox with a guarded expression, his mouth pulled in a tight line.

“Hello, Nox,” he said finally, a voice familiar and foreign, so much a distant memory that Nox couldn’t remember the last words his father had spoken to him. But he knew that sound right down to his DNA.

Nox couldn’t speak. The medication thrumming through his veins stopped the well of panic, the shock, but Nox’s throat tightened because his brain threw up a wall so high he couldn’t see over it.

He shook his head, just a tiny motion that seemed to break Carson Boyet’s stoicism into something else. Something… fond.

“I’ve wondered what it would be like, seeing you again. So strange,” he murmured.

Blinking, Nox felt the muteness spread over his body. He couldn’t move as his father leaned closer.

“I’ll explain everything, I will. Right now—right now, let’s just have this moment of being a family again.”

It was like a key, unlocking the deep freeze and letting Nox back into the sunshine.

Family?

A muscle began to twitch in Nox’s jaw; he swallowed, willing himself a voice.

“Not my family,” he muttered, spittle gathering in the corners of his mouth. “Not—Mom died. You let her die.”

Carson was already shaking his head, putting up one well-manicured hand in protest.

“I had nothing to do with that. Circumstances beyond my control, Nox, you must believe me. I didn’t even know she was pregnant.”

Nox wanted to kill him. He wanted just enough energy to rise out of this bed and kill his father, the way he’d killed that piece-of-shit rapist, Mr. White. Because White had violated her, but Carson was the abandoner. He was the one who had delivered a defenseless Natalie to her abuser.

“You left her there! You left… her. And me. And….”

Sam’s face—baby to the young man he’d left behind in South Carolina—pierced Nox’s brain.

Carson narrowed his gaze, but he didn’t utter the name. “Yes. I did. And I am truly sorry for that. If I’d had a choice….”

Nox rolled his eyes. “Your choice to work for murderers and drug dealers. Your choice to disappear.”

“I let them think I was dead to protect you,” Carson said, soothing and lying in the same breath. Now Nox remembered that sound—the sound of his father placating him, placating Natalie, pretending his absence was anything other than calculated. “I thought it would keep you safe.”

“Safe until the storms killed us?”

A flicker behind his father’s eyes was like a lie detector test spiking.

C
HAPTER
T
WENTY
-S
EVEN

 

 

“O
PEN
THE
door, Cade!” The sound of the voice coming through the flimsy door stopped Cade in his tracks, midscramble, as he was reaching for the claw hammer in his back pocket.

LJ—in the midst of gathering up the laptop and supplies—froze as Rachel began cursing.

“Goddammit—I’m just going to crush his skull,” she hissed, and Cade went for the doorknob.

He exchanged a look with Rachel, who took position behind him, box cutter in hand.

LJ’s eyes went wide.

“He’s a fed!” he whispered frantically as Cade unlocked the door and Rachel slipped into position.

On the other side, Alec stood in the pouring rain, his hands raised as water streamed down his overcoat. Mud coated his dress pants and nice shoes, his dark hair plastered down over his face. He looked like shit—but Cade didn’t lower the hammer.

“I thought you’d be long gone by now,” Alec said, still surrendering.

Cade said nothing, carefully checking in either direction to see if this was a trap.

“They think I’m on my way back to Chicago.” Alec began to lower his arms. “I left my car at a rest stop and walked.”

“Why are you here?”

“I came to warn you, Cade. You and Rachel and your brother—you’re playing in a dangerous game and—”

Cade stepped back and slammed the door. He turned to face Rachel, who seemed peeved she wasn’t going to get to kill Alec, and LJ, who was still stunned into silence.

“Let’s move. I’m going to assume they’re following him.”

“No one is following me. They think I’m on my way to Chicago,” Alec yelled through the door. “I told them you were headed back to South Carolina.”

Rachel shrugged, as if she wasn’t able to weigh in on the chances of him telling the truth. But she didn’t put the box cutter away.

Cade took a calculated risk. “So now you’re helping us?”

“No, I’m protecting you.”

“Bullshit,” Rachel shouted. “You arrested us.”

“I took you into protective custody. For the love of God, open the fucking door. I’m drowning out here.”

“Probably better he’s inside than yelling out there,” LJ pointed out.

Cade nodded, then waited until Rachel looked ready to gut their “friend” if need be.

“You armed?”

“Of course.”

“I want the gun before I let you in.”

Cursing followed, then a thump as Alec gave the door a hard pound.

A crack of an opening and Cade saw a holstered gun just outside on the front step, currently getting drenched in the deluge. He leaned down to pick it up, gaze locked on Alec.

“Come in.”

 

 

A
LEC
STOOD
on the tarp in the corner, with Cade holding the gun on him and Rachel stripping him down to his shoes, shirt, and pants while simultaneously searching him.

She was thorough, and Alec didn’t flinch.

“He’s clean,” she said finally, retreating to the corner with a fierce look on her face.

“That’s my standard-issue weapon. I don’t carry anything else,” Alec said.

“Oh right, we should believe you because you aren’t a liar or anything.” Cade kept the gun trained on Alec’s face.

“I was undercover, Cade. There was no way to tell you what was going on.” Alec started to raise his hands, but Cade waved the gun until he got the message. “And when we picked you up at the school, I had to make sure no one on my team thought I was compromised.”

“They must be pissed you let us escape,” Rachel piped up. “Is that why you’ve been summoned back?”

Alec didn’t answer, but the slight downturn at the corners of his mouth was an easy tell—he was charming and proven to be a skilled liar, but everyone had their tells.

“So you’re in trouble now. Figure you’ll get us to surrender and take us back?” LJ entered the conversation from where he watched, leaning against the far wall, arms crossed over his chest.

“It wouldn’t be the worst thing,” Alec said, a faint smile on his face.

“Fuck no.”

“I guessed as much, but thanks for articulating it, Rachel.” The quip was lighthearted, but Alec’s eyes looked sad. “My secondary plan would be to advise you not to try to get onto the island.”

Cade shook his head, about three seconds from handing the gun to Rachel and letting her blow off some steam. “This has nothing to do with you or your investigation. Nox is innocent and he’s out there—we’re going to find him. So put your coat back on, get your car, and go back to Chicago.”

“Unless you have some information you can give us,” LJ added. “What are all those patrols for?”

Alec cocked his head to one side. “You’re kidding, right? I’m not sharing anything. I just wanted to warn you because….” He looked directly at Cade, almost imploring in his tone. “You need to leave as soon as possible.”

Rachel stepped out from her perch behind Cade. She walked between the two men, until she was right up in Alec’s personal space. “When’s the raid scheduled for?”

Alec looked uncomfortable.

“Soon, I’m guessing. You evacuated the waterfront, which must’ve alerted the District police, because they’re going crazy shoring everything up. Which means….” She tilted her head, and Cade saw Alec’s dusky skin go a little pink.

Another tell.

“It’s happening from the inside. More undercovers? Hmmmm.” Rachel turned back to Cade, her expression one of calculated delight. “Maybe that sort of chaos is just what we need to slip in without anyone knowing.”

It happened in a quicksilver minute; Alec moved and grabbed Rachel around the neck in a choke hold, her throat trapped under the pivot of his elbow. She fought against him, kicking backward with fist and foot, trying to break free.

Paralyzed for a second—because stupid, stupid, he’d forgotten this wasn’t Alec, his Alec, because that person was a lie—Cade threw himself at the melee, even as the sonic boom of LJ rushing into the fray nearly knocked him down.

“Don’t!” Alec yelled, inexplicably loosening his grip as he stepped back and hit the wall in a few steps. No way out. “I just—you need to listen! Get out of here, forget your friend. If he’s not dead, he will be in the next forty-eight hours! I’m trying to help you!”

Rachel struggled harder as Cade continued with a wavering arm to train the gun on Alec’s rapidly paling face.

“Let her go, right the fuck now,” LJ warned, his voice low as he inched closer. “You don’t have anywhere to go.”

Alec’s gaze darted from the menace of LJ to the gun in Cade’s hand. Everything seemed to slow down, an overpowering stench of tension and fear filling the trailer.

Alec seemed to make a decision; he squeezed Rachel a fraction tighter, then threw her to the ground.

Down on her hands and knees, Rachel choked and gasped, fighting to regain the lost air. LJ seemed momentarily torn between grabbing her and murdering Alec, but Cade beat him to the punch.

On autopilot, he pushed forward, not stopping until the gun was resting against Alec’s forehead.

“Go ahead,” Alec murmured. “My career is over, and we’ll both be dead soon enough. What’s a few days early?”

Behind him, Cade could hear LJ urging Rachel up.

“Save a bullet for yourself.” Alec’s last words before Cade brought the gun back and bashed him in the temple.

They tied him up—Cade and LJ, as Rachel lay on the pallet with a rain-soaked rag at her throat. Occasionally she coughed, and LJ’s attention would be drawn back to her corner, and then his hands would be rough on the unconscious fed at their feet.

“Shoulda killed him,” LJ muttered under his breath, a change in tune a shaken Cade didn’t dispute. He tried to imagine how he’d feel if Alec had tried to kill Nox, then pushed on in making sure his former friend was firmly bound.

“We need to find out what he knows,” Cade said wearily, standing up on rubber legs.

“If there’s gonna be a raid or somethin’ in the next forty-eight hours, we don’t have much time to find your boyfriend.” LJ looked up at Cade, a sorrowful line to his mouth. “They light that place up…. I’m just sayin’. Whoever has him, wherever he is—chances are this shit is gonna be in the same place.”

“We don’t have a fucking clue who has him.” Cade paced around the tiny space, the air seeming to have been sucked almost entirely out. On the roof, more torrential rain beat down, echoing his frustration. “The District cops? The drug dealers?” Another player they didn’t know about yet?

A chess match indeed, on a board soaked with gasoline and sparks around every turn.

“Alec had to be desperate to come and warn us. Whatever it is, it’s going to be big.” Cade walked over to Rachel; she gave him one of her patented bitch faces, but her eyes were scared. “We’re running out of time.”

“So let’s move. We leave him here, we take our stuff, and we walk down to the checkpoint,” LJ said suddenly.

Cade turned to find LJ rifling through Alec’s pockets.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“We get ourselves arrested by the District police, they give us a free ride over there, we head out to find Nox.”

“Okay, sure, that sounds easy,” Cade snapped. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

“Because you forgot I was with you.” LJ pulled his hand out of Alec’s pocket, a leather billfold in hand. “You’re the only person they’re looking for over there. Vigilante’s dead, remember? Sam ain’t here. Mason ain’t here.”

“Rachel’s here.”

“Rachel ain’t named by the District police as a person of interest.” LJ stood up, flipping through the billfold as he did. “Just you, little brother.”

LJ’s plan dawned on him slowly.

“Turn myself in, get to the island.”

“Break out and there you go.”

LJ plucked out a thin plastic card and showed it to Cade with a smirk on his face. “Nice government-issue card—my friends are gonna have a good time with this.”

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