Dusk Page 5

  “Scared,” Madeline said. “I’m scared for them.”

  “How are you and little Patrick?”

  She smiled. “You know we haven’t shared his name.”

  They hadn’t, but they had shared his gender. Madeline and Patrick had a little boy due in six weeks.

  “You both are all right?” I asked again.

  She allowed a smile to come to her face. “Yes. The doctor said his heartbeat is good and he’s been moving—a lot. If he stops for too long, I’m to call her.”

  Patrick came up beside Madeline and wrapped his arm around her waist. “I sent Sparrows to the academy. Once they have Ruby secure, we’ll decide where she needs to go.”

  Madeline exhaled. “She just began her senior year.”

  Patrick shook his head. “I know and I’m sorry, but we can’t allow our daughter to be at the academy with whatever is happening.”

  Madeline’s lips came together as her green eyes peered at her husband. I knew the look she was giving to him. It was the expression that each of the women had perfected through the years. It meant, We’re talking about this more once we’re alone. Since Patrick’s response was a nod and a kiss to Madeline’s forehead, I was certain he’d interpreted it as the same message.

  As the Montana breeze blew the tall grasses and white clouds floated over Mason and Laurel’s house, I looked at the grouping of those present. These were the people who meant the most to all of us. They were our loved ones; they were our weak link—our Achilles’ heel. This vulnerability was why Sparrow didn’t welcome Lorna with open arms all those years ago. The more of us there were, the greater our liability. And now we had two more members of our family joining us by year’s end.

  “Everyone inside,” Sparrow said.

  There was no argument as we all ascended the steps to the porch. As we waited for the women to enter first, Mason reached for my arm. “I need your help. I know you want to be out turning over every fucking rock, but your strength is behind a keyboard.”

  My jaw clenched.

  “Listen,” he went on, “I found something through that backdoor access into the security that I need to verify. I didn’t mention it because” —he looked around, confirming that everyone else was now inside— “I don’t fucking know what to do if it’s accurate.”

  “What did you find?”

  His head shook. “I need to do some more research. There have been other outfits having issues. Patrick can look into that. He has the contacts. Sparrow can call the other leaders.” He glanced into the house. Seeing that the entry was clear, he pulled the front door closed and led me toward the porch railing. Small cyclones of dust danced on the lane, and birds flew overhead as he spoke. “I have a gut feeling that I don’t like.”

  I stared into my brother-in-law’s eyes, seeing something I also didn’t like, something unusual, something akin to fear. Don’t get me wrong—Mason Pierce was rarely afraid. I’d watched him in military combat as well as facing enemies on Chicago’s streets. I could only recall one other time I saw the shadows now lingering in his stare. It was when he first returned to us.

  “You and Sparrow,” I said, “the two of you made a deal.”

  Mason’s neck straightened and his jaw tightened as he nodded. “We did, and I believed Top.”

  Top was the top or the commander of a subversive counterterrorism government agency referred to as the Sovereign Order. Don’t try to research it. You won’t find a thing. The Sovereign Order doesn’t officially exist, and yet Mason had been a part of it for years.

  “Hell,” he continued, “I had no choice but to believe him. Now I’m praying to fucking God that the gut feeling I’m having is wrong. That’s where I need your help. You and I designed the security for the ranch after what happened. There’s no road map, no Google search or YouTube video to give away our secrets. I need you to scour the program, find the weak link if it exists. If we can assess where and how it was breached, we’ll be closer to an answer. The knowledge needed to infringe on the system we created is hardly common.”

  “If you’re right, this—Lorna and Araneae’s kidnapping—could have nothing to do with the explosions in the garage, the issues with deliveries, with any of the Sparrow or other outfits’ problems.”

  “If I’m right,” Mason said, “then we could have two separate wars happening. And again, if I’m right, the enemy we’re fighting here is unlike any we’ve ever encountered.”

  The front door opened inward, stilling our conversation as Sparrow stepped out onto the porch. “Get your asses in here.” He narrowed his dark gaze at both of us. “Are you going to tell me what you’re discussing?”

  I looked to my brother-in-law.

  “Yeah,” Mason said, lifting his chin. “We’re going to dig deeper into the security breach, and when I have something to tell you, I will.”

  Sparrow walked closer to Mason, continuing until they were inches apart. “It’s my wife.” He pointed to me. “It’s his wife. And I’m fucking responsible for their safety. Sparrow is my name.”

  Mason held his ground. “This isn’t a pissing contest, Sparrow. We don’t know who took the women. We don’t know what they want. So at this moment, we don’t even know what their endgame is.”

  What Mason wasn’t saying was that if he was correct and this was the Order, the kidnapping might not be about Sparrow’s name or the Sparrow outfit.

  “It’s a war,” Mason continued, “and no battle can be won without counterintelligence, without understanding the enemy. We all have our specialties; let us do ours.”

  Sparrow didn’t respond.

  Mason went on, “I’m not taking a chance on Araneae’s or Lorna’s life by underestimating who we’re up against.”

  We both looked at Sparrow, awaiting his response. Underestimating was something he knew from experience not to do. He straightened his shoulders. “Dead men. That’s who we’re up against. That’s not underestimating—that’s a promise.” He took a deep breath and continued, “Garrett said the other two planes of capos have landed. Unfortunately, the bunkhouse is full of ranch hands. This ranch is crawling with people preparing for the approaching winter. Every fucking one of them needs to be questioned. What did they see, hear, or anything?”

  Mason nodded. “I’ll get Seth to work out a schedule.”

  Sparrow walked to the railing. “We can’t house the capos there. The bunkhouse is full with the ranch hands. Patrick is looking into finding them a place to stay that’s not a million miles away.”

  “If Seth can get us some bunks...” Mason lifted his chin toward the near grouping of outbuildings. “The capos can be housed out there. It’s not as nice as the bunkhouse, but there’s a kitchen and bathrooms. Add bunks and well, it’s livable.”

  Sparrow sighed. “I don’t want them this close to the house.”

  “The closest hotel is over an hour away by car.”

  “Talk to Seth,” Sparrow said, “and we’ll see what he can come up with.”

  My gaze caught Mason’s and I nodded. “Your office?”

  “Yeah,” he said. “Get settled in your and Lorna’s room upstairs, and I’ll meet you back there.”

  Leaving Sparrow and Mason on the porch, I walked through the threshold of the main house thinking about the never-ending shit in our lives and probably the lives of everyone. Lorna and Araneae were missing, and we had ranch hands to question, as well as bunk beds and bedding to acquire. There would be the feat of feeding the capos while setting their assignments.

  It was the mundane crap that never ended.

  I stilled in the foyer and looked all around. With the early evening sun streaming through the windows, the interior was bathed in golden light, making the varying shades of wood glisten. In many ways, Mason’s home reminded me of Sparrow’s cabin in Canada, and yet it was different. Both places were rustic in design with an overabundance of wood, from the walls, to the beams, to the floors.

  This house differed in size and decoration. It was grand
in the way a main house should be, yet it wasn’t majestic like Sparrow’s place in Canada. Mason’s house was a home. Sparrow’s was a log cabin castle to go along with his castle in the sky. While he claimed he didn’t want the mansion where he grew up and his mother still lived, he’d recreated it in two other forms.

  This home was grand and minimalistic at the same time, reflecting both Mason’s and Laurel’s personalities. It was who they were individually as well as together.

  I peered toward the long staircase that led upstairs. “Get settled in your and Lorna’s room upstairs.” Mason’s orders. I looked down at my empty hands. I’d thrown a few things in a suitcase before we left Chicago. At this second, I wasn’t even certain where it was. There was nothing urging me upward.

  Our room.

  A room Lorna and I had shared.

  A bed we’d shared.

  An empty room.

  An empty bed.

  Voices came from the kitchen like a safety net pulling me away from my fear and sadness.

  I could enter the kitchen and find Madeline, Laurel, and Patrick. Instead, I turned as Mason and Sparrow entered from the porch.

  “Have you been upstairs?” Mason asked.

  I shook my head. “When they bring in my stuff, just have them put it in the room—the one where I stayed before. I don’t need to get settled. I need to find Lorna and Araneae.”

  Sparrow’s dark gaze met mine before he walked past us to the kitchen.

  “Is he okay?” I asked Mason.

  “No. None of us are.” He motioned toward the living room and beyond with his chin. “Come with me to the office.”

  Lorna

  The tower - nine years ago

  Lying back on the pillow, I looked up into Reid’s eyes, staring into their depths. Emotions like cyclones swirled in the deepest brown I’d ever seen. “You’re worried,” I said as he teased a stray strand of my red hair away from my face.

  His head shook as he feigned a smile. “You’re so damn beautiful.”

  My fingertips roamed over his chestnut skin, feeling his bare shoulders, muscular back, and firm ass. Each indentation, each tightening muscle was a story written in Braille, a masterpiece I wanted to read over and over until I knew every chapter, line, and word by heart.

  “Back at you,” I purred, holding him tighter as we lay melded together, my body still reveling in the aftershocks of our stolen moment.

  Our time together wouldn’t last. It never did, yet in the few weeks we’d been together, I’d become addicted to his touch and the way he could orchestrate not only my body but my mind. When we were together, I believed in the fairy tale I’d been sold as a child. In his arms, my thoughts filled with possibilities for a future I’d never before dared to consider.

  Never before had there been a man who so fully consumed my being. It wasn’t that Reid took, but that in giving, he created a desire within me to give in return. Never had I been loved so thoroughly, not only physically—something he did beyond my wildest imagination—but emotionally too. Without knowing all of my past, in this short time Reid had shown me what a real man could be.

  Of course, I had my brother, but beyond that, my examples of men were poor at best and more often horrible. The only thing the men my mother had attracted taught me was to never trust, depend upon, or give my love to a man. And yet Reid Murray was nothing like those men of my childhood. He had not only the honor of my brother, but more—more patience and compassion melted together by his burning desire.

  In these few weeks, I’d fallen for him in a way I never dreamed possible.

  Yet, as life intervened, time together was limited.

  Despite—or maybe because of—the dangers that Reid, Patrick, Mr. Sparrow, and my brother all claimed were knocking at our door, any time that Reid and I could spend together was precious.

  Reid shifted his weight until we were no longer joined as one. Turning on his side, he lay opposite me, nose to nose. His large hands cupped my cheeks as he brought our lips together.

  A moan escaped my lips as his tongue sought entrance. Willingly I opened, welcoming the connection and tasting my own essence. It brought back the memory of how he’d brought me to ecstasy before we’d joined together to find a higher cliff. My breasts pushed against his solid chest as my nipples again tightened.

  As he pulled away, a cold chill covered my flesh and I again asked, “What has you so worried?”

  “I didn’t say I was.”

  I lifted my head, my pulse running faster as I grew terrified of the answer to the question I was about to pose. “Is it about us? About me?”

  Taking a deep breath, Reid sat up, moving his long legs over the edge of the bed. Propping my head on my hand with my elbow on the mattress, I relished the view. While Reid may not have the muscle bulk of Mason, muscle was all he was. There wasn’t an ounce of fat as his torso flexed and his biceps bulged. Even his thighs and ass were muscular. I could stare for hours on end.

  Statues of Greek and Roman gods had nothing on the man who had stolen my heart and satisfied my body. When we were all together, I found myself envisioning what was hidden beneath his jeans and shirts. Even with the other men present, those images along with memories of what he’d done and was capable of doing had me fidgeting in my chair and dampening my panties.

  I reached for his hand as he started to stand. “I’m sorry if it’s me.”

  Reid’s smile grew as he turned, taking me in. His gaze raked from my messy red hair all the way to my toes, lingering too long at the places in between. “It’s not you, Lorna. Right now, with everything that’s happening, the time I get to spend with you are the fucking best minutes of the day.”

  My skin tingled from the way his eyes had washed over me, and my lips curled into a smile from his words. “Then maybe you don’t need to leave yet?”

  He splayed his fingers over my stomach, the warmth settling heavily between my legs. It didn’t matter that he’d just satisfied me, brought me to the best orgasm twice, seeing him in all his naked perfection only made me want more. “If I don’t go, I’ll keep you locked in my apartment all night and then what will happen?”

  “I’ll probably die of too many orgasms.”

  He grinned. “Is that a fatal ailment?”

  “I’m willing to find out.” As I spoke, Reid’s phone pinged with a text message. “Maybe you could turn that off?”

  The clouds of worry returned as he lifted the phone from the bedside stand. “Fuck.”

  There was something alarming in his tone, in that one word. “Reid? Is everything all right?”

  “Shit, get dressed.”

  Our playful banter was over. His order didn’t offer room for questioning.

  As he stepped into his blue jeans, slid his feet into shoes, and pulled a soft shirt over his head, I hurriedly dressed, putting on my panties, bra, jeans, and blouse. Before I could make sure everything was in place, Reid had my hand and tugged me toward the front of his apartment. Beyond the bedroom, down the hall, past the empty dining room and into the living room, furnished with a bachelor’s necessities—a recliner, side table, and television.

  “Wait,” I tried to slow a man easily twice my size. “I need my shoes.”

  He turned, his brown eyes wide. “Lorna, it’s Mason.”

  My heart beat against my chest in double time. “Mason? Is he okay?”

  “He thinks you’re missing. He’s searching for you.”

  “Fuck,” I murmured.

  It was then Reid opened the door that led to the common area near the elevator. I wasn’t through the door when he called, “Mason.”

  My feet stilled beside Reid.

  Standing at the elevator, phone in hand, was my brother. He spun toward us, his green eyes aflame with genuine concern. The clock stilled. Time forgot to move as Mason scanned Reid and me.

  Shit, I hadn’t looked in the mirror.

  Do I look as freshly fucked as I feel?

  I swallowed and stood taller. “Maso
n, Reid got your text.” I prayed my voice sounded calmer than I felt. “I’m good. Didn’t mean to worry you.”

  My brother didn’t respond, not to me. His stare was fixed on Reid.

  The time that earlier hadn’t moved suddenly accelerated. In the moment it took me to blink, Reid had pulled me behind him, and Mason had crossed the room, now standing directly before Reid.

  “You fucking dick.”

  Lorna

  The tower - nine years ago

  “What the hell are you doing with my sister?” Mason growled as simultaneously, his fist collided with Reid’s cheek.

  My hands sprang to my lips as I let out a stifled scream. “Stop! Mason, stop.”

  What happened next was too fast to choreograph.

  Reid reached for Mason’s elbows.

  While I’d thought Reid was all muscle, I was seeing proof of it now.

  In an instant, Reid had Mason’s arms secured behind his back. His voice lowered to a rumbling snarl as he spoke near Mason’s ear. “He’ll throw her out. Is that what you want?”

  “Fucking let go of me.”

  “Mason.” I leaned down, crouching low and meeting his gaze. “Reid hasn’t done anything I didn’t want.”

  With flared nostrils and clenched jaw, my brother closed his eyes momentarily. When he opened his eyes again, he looked back at Reid and spoke through gritted teeth. “Let. Go. Of. Me.”

  Reid’s grip loosened.

  Mason stood, shook his arms, and straightened his shoulders. “You,” he said, pointing at me, “go in our apartment. Don’t come out.”

  Instead of doing what my brother said, I reached for Reid’s arm. “Mason, I’m not a kid.”

  “I fucking know that.”

  I stood taller. “Then don’t treat me like one. While you weren’t looking, I grew up. We’re not in some one-room excuse for an apartment. Our mother isn’t out turning tricks, forgetting she had kids to feed.” The words came even though I knew I should stop. “You don’t need to take care of me.”