Dylan entered operations with a determined stride. Lips firmed, gaze narrowed, fists clenched. Good for him, he’d found his angry. She’d stewed in hers all morning. Then he went and stepped on a freaking tripwire and damn near gave her a heart attack.

Then shit got real fast. An army of operatives on Drigg’s payroll stormed the building. She got them out, secure. Then she’d put them right back into danger when the drones sweeping the grid she established found the bastard.

Dylan got Driggs.

It was over.

No. No, they were barely scraping the surface. Martin Driggs was a money mogul, a figure head too fat and ignorant to earn the respect of the Hive operatives he’d commanded. Someone pulled the strings, someone savvy enough to identify the men under Driggs’s thumb who’d worry more about the bottom line than what it took to get there.

“I know you’ve figured out a hundred different ways to chew my ass out, sweetheart, but hear me out first.” Dylan’s velvety voice fractured the tentative hold she’d maintained.

She attacked. Not with the fists and curses he expected, but with mouth and hands. Well, hand. She hauled him down by his shirt until his face was close enough for their breaths to mingle. Unbrushed teeth and all. She crashed her mouth to his and wrapped herself around him monkey style.

Safe. Alive.

Tears spilled down her face. She didn’t know why she was crying, why seeing him here, breathing and secure, created the shockwave of need spewing from her. It didn’t matter. All she wanted was him. Dylan Mason.

Pleasure coursed through her when he took the lead. A hand on her ass and one in her hair, he deepened the kiss, a carnal melding of the mouth she hoped she’d experience as a full-body activity soon. To hell with taking it slow.

Applause and hoots and hollers echoed through the room, but she didn’t stop. Not to even breathe. Legs wrapped around his waist, she remained latched, monkey-style, as he steered them from the building without breaking the lip lock.

Was this what it was like for Addy when she came off a long, horrible mission? The adrenaline crash, the dark hunger to resynch with humanity through raw, angry sex? She’d described it once, long ago, and Mary hadn’t understood. Now, though. Now she was the raw, hungry monster.

It pulsated through her, an invasion of lust and desire so fierce Mary couldn’t imagine stopping. Not in a million years.

They entered his room, and he set her on her feet. She clawed and tugged on his shirt, growling when he grabbed her wrists.

“Look at me, sweetheart.”

“Shirt, off. Now.”

“Look at me, Mary.” His voice deepened. The commanding tone snapped some of the haze from her thoughts. “It’s just you and me. We’ve got as long as we want. We’re both safe, secure. Slow down and take a breath.”

“I want you,” she stated. Grabbing his shirt, she dragged it over his head and tossed it aside. “I need you.”

He grabbed her shoulders, turned her around, and held her to him, back to front, hands restrained with his. Hot breath settled near her ear. Tears coursed down her face. She gasped, suddenly unable to breathe beyond the knot forming in her chest. She doubled forward, feeling Dylan follow her maneuver until they were hunched over in an awkward position.

“Talk to me, sweetheart.”

“Fuck me,” she ordered.

The grasp about her wrists eased a bit as he hauled them back to standing. She pulled and pushed, but he held her locked against him. Why wouldn’t he just strip her naked and let this happen already?

What was he waiting for?

Anger seeped into her. She breathed harder, deeper.

“You don’t understand,” she spat.

“Then make me understand, sweetheart. What’s going on in your head? Give it to me.”

“It was a trap. I almost led you into a trap, got you hurt. He was waiting for you.” She gasped, swallowing the tears spilling into her mouth. “Like he waited for me.”

“He took you by surprise,” he guessed.

“I got a text, a code red. I didn’t even think, I just went.” She screamed, enraged she hadn’t thought, just like she hadn’t thought today. Dylan had almost died. What if the tripwire had been a bomb? She’d failed. “I failed. I got distracted by you, by what you make me feel. I got distracted, and you triggered a tripwire. You could’ve died. I failed. I failed. So stupid. So stupid. Dad was right.”

Mary stumbled to her knees, dragging Dylan along. Still, he hung on, locking her to him as he wrapped his legs around her, reverse monkey of how she’d clung to him. She rocked. Cried.

“He would’ve taken you, beaten you. Waterboarded you so long you felt it burning in your lungs weeks after.” She coughed, choked on the phantom water filling her body. She punched and kicked at the arms holding her in place. She screamed her rage.

“What else would he have done, sweetheart? Tell me,” he whispered.

“No. You don’t get to know. You’re too good. You aren’t stupid, you don’t get caught. Only the stupid get beaten, hear their friend’s screams. Chained down like an animal while the screams rip you open.” Her throat burned from the raw sounds coming from her, the terror she’d heard hour after hour.

“Then it’s your turn again. Then you’ll learn what you’re good for. You think you’re hot shit, in charge and untouchable. Well, they’ll touch you plenty. Oh yeah, they’ll make you take it again and again. Just when you think you’re in the bottom of hell, he’ll lean down and whisper the real hell in your ear.”

“Fuck, sweetheart, come back to me.”

“No! You’ve gotta know what he’ll say. You’ve gotta know.”

“Then tell me, sweetheart. Tell me, and let me take it away.”

You’re just the warm up, bitch. She’s gonna get it even worse. Give me what I want and I’ll let her go. You know what I want, bitch. Give it up.

“What do I want, sweetheart.”

“Stupid bitch never listens. Give it up, and Vi goes free. Where’s the drive you gave Peter? Give me the names of the suppliers. Access codes. Give it to me, bitch, or she gets it worse.”

“It’s okay, come back to me, sweetheart.”

“It’s not okay, you can’t trust him. Promise me you won’t trust him. He’ll hurt her anyway. Don’t give them up. Ever. You’re disposable. You can hurt. You can die. She can’t. HERA has to live. Free. People have to know what Peter found. They have to know.”

“They’ll know, Mary. Come back to me. You’re okay. I’ve got you. No one’s ever going to touch you again. I swear.”

“You shouldn’t have left. It wasn’t safe out there. You know better than leave. People hurt you when you leave.”

“You kept me safe, Mary. You got me secure. You tracked him down.”

“No. No. No. No. No.”

“Why no, sweetheart? Tell me what’s happening.”

“He wasn’t alone,” she whispered, terror stabbing her insides, invisible claws scratching for freedom. “He was yelling, shouting at someone to hurry the fuck up and get everyone in position. The bitch can’t take much more, you stupid shit head. She’s just a dumb cunt. Dead pawns can’t be played. Get everyone into position and start phase two.”

“Mary, listen to me.”

“You fucking idiot, of course I have everything in place. Who the hell do you think I am? She’ll go where I fucking lead her, just like you wanted. Why do you have such a hard-on for the Masons anyway? Kill the bratty sister, and we’re clear. Kill the geeks, and we’ve got everything. Billions.”

“Jesus, come back to me, Mary.”

“No. I can’t go back. I can’t go back. I can’t go back.”

Blackness enveloped her.

“SIT DOWN BEFORE YOU fall down,” Marshall growled.

Dylan stumbled into a chair, somewhat aware of the men gathering around him. The women huddled in the corner, whispering through their tears. Addy stood in the center, unsure where she fit. Logan and Doctor Parsons both responded to the 911 text he’d sent out.

Mary’s screams filled his head, phantom terrors shredding his insides. Jesus, she hadn’t even heard him. She’d been there, but in a totally different world, another time. But not herself. Confusion and blind rage rode him hard. If not for the dozen or so men gathered around the only exit, he would’ve gone into the basement and beaten answers from Driggs.

People needed a read in. Some of the things she’d been saying. Jesus.

He swiped his hand down his face and waited for the anger to choke out the helplessness. He’d been right there. Nothing helped.

“Take these.”

The gruff order startled him. Logan held two pills in his hand.

Dylan ignored them and took a step forward. “How is she?”

“Take these, then we’ll talk.”

“I’m not taking a damn thing until you tell me how she is and I see her.”

“We have her sedated, she’s resting.” Logan looked around as the audience of one became over a dozen.

Vi, Addy, Rhea, and Bree wrapped arms around Dylan, clinging as if he could keep them centered. They had no fucking clue he’d shattered into a million pieces hours ago, when Mary’s first screams filled the air.

“What happened?” Addy asked.

“Every trauma victim handles the situation differently. Mary bottles things up. She’s emotionally closed off from most everyone, so the one therapy session she had with Doctor Parsons didn’t scratch the surface.” Regret filled Logan’s gaze. “Best we can guess from what little she said when she came around, Dylan out there, almost getting hurt on top of him capturing Driggs and having the bastard at the compound. It was too much to bottle up.”

“Is that the official medical term for it?” Dallas asked dryly. “Thanks for dumbing it down.”

“Today’s mission too closely symbolized portions of the traumatic event which caused her PTSD, specifically her kidnapping and subsequent torture and rape,” Logan explained. “She appears to have suffered from flashbacks but also had a dissociative reaction.”

“She thought the event was recurring,” Rhea added. Her face paled. “Poor Mary.”

“Just a heads up, Parsons is pissed.” Logan’s jaw twitched. “We should’ve both been consulted before Mary started in operations again. I never would’ve cleared her to work on anything where contact with Driggs was a possibility, not until she’s moved through her therapy enough to have the tools she needs to handle the repercussions.”

“What now?” Dylan asked.

“We wait for her to wake and take it from there. Parsons believes she’ll bounce back since she has a strong support system in place. She didn’t trust her in the sessions, and we doubt she will anytime soon. For whatever reason, she’s bonded to you, Dylan. That means you are her safety net. Not the only one, but she trusted you to handle the fallout when she blew.”

“I couldn’t get through. She was there but she wasn’t.”

“I heard enough when we arrived to know you did better than you realize. Doctor Parsons will want to talk with you, make sure you’re okay.” Logan looked around, then lowered his voice. “Now’s the time if this isn’t serious. You can walk away, and we’ll make the cut as clean as it can be for her, before she gets any deeper into you.”

“I’ll let that one slide because I know you’ve got her best interests at heart. Suggest I make a clean cut from her again, and we’ll have a problem, spook.” Dylan crossed his arms. “Can I see her?”

“She’s sedated.”

“Fine.” He looked over his shoulder at his brothers. “I’ll be with Mary. Text me if something comes up.”

Vi stepped forward, followed him halfway down the hall before he realized she had no intention of turning around.

“Go with the others, Vi. I’ll let you know when she wakes.”

“No. I’m staying. With you.” She wound her hands together and peered up with huge, nervous eyes. “She wouldn’t want you alone. I—I heard the recording.”

“Recording?”

“From the hall. The camera caught it. It was pretty soft, but HERA cleaned it up. The door was still open enough for the sound to...” She stopped and looked away. “Anyway, you shouldn’t be alone.”

Dylan appreciated the gesture, even though he didn’t want the company. He entered the room and took sentry at Mary’s bedside. Vi claimed the large, recliner-style chair in the corner. Tears filled her gaze, but she made no move toward the bed, as if sensing he needed time alone with her.

He ran his hand across her forehead and noted how pale she seemed. How weak.

Defenseless.

He unholstered his gun and set it on the hospital serving table. Vi gulped but didn’t say anything. If anyone so much as blinked wrong in Mary’s direction, he’d shoot first and ask questions later.

“You’re safe, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”

“WHAT HAPPENED?”

Dylan roused as Riley shook his shoulder. He glanced over at the bed. Someone had left her hands uncovered again. Didn’t they see how cold she was? He settled the blanket on her, tucking her in tight enough she’d feel secure if she woke too quickly.

He glanced at the clock. Four in the morning. “What are you doing in here? You should be asleep.”

“Don’t tell me where I should be, Dylan Mason. Why the hell am I just now hearing about Mary? What happened? Rhea and Bree came up to the house and were a mess. Mom’s beside herself. She’s coming in fully armed in a couple hours, just so you know.”

“Great.”

“Stow the attitude. What happened?”

“I fucked up,” he admitted. “We had a line on some intel related to the guys who tried to take you. Mary was supposed to go with me, but I left without her. She ran the op from here.”

“Okay, I see how she’d be a bit pissed about that, but I don’t understand what that has to do with her here.” Riley pulled a brush from a bag she was carrying. “In case you want to brush her hair, or something.”

Dylan brushed Mary’s hair and let the innocuous activity chew some of the guilt rising in him. He should’ve talked to Logan, made sure she was okay.

“I didn’t clear it with Logan. Something about the mission, either me in danger or Driggs being there unexpectedly, caused an attack.”

“She’s sedated?” Riley asked.

“Yeah, they’re hoping she’ll be better when she wakes.”

“That new woman—she’s a shrink, right? Mary talk to her yet?”

“Yeah, once. Didn’t accomplish much.”

“It’ll take time. Opening up to a stranger isn’t going to happen, not with someone so closed off from her own emotions. She’s a robot, you know? She has lists of things that should happen. Work’s first. I’m not saying that’s bad, it helps her cope with whatever she’s had bottled up, but it doesn’t take a shrink to see it’s there.”

“You know a lot about this.” Dylan leaned back in the chair and studied his little sister.

She wasn’t the little girl she’d once been. She’d turned into a remarkable woman who left half Resino trembling when she got upset about something. They’d been so busy with Arsenal business lately they’d lost touch with how things were going.

“You mentioned something about Rachelle when we spoke last. She why you know so much about shrinks?”

“My friend’s not crazy,” Riley hissed through clenched teeth. “Don’t you dare say shit like that around Mary. Just because someone needs help processing their emotions and getting through tough times doesn’t mean they’re crazy. You have no idea how easy you’ve had it, having five brothers to bounce your troubles off of. Some people need a leg up, someone to reach out and offer a hand. No one ever held anything out for Rachelle. She’s fought and scraped for every second of normal and happy she’s squeezed out of the shit life dealt to her.”

“I’m sorry, Riles. I didn’t mean anything by it. I was concerned, that’s all. What’s going on?”

“You know she had problems with the guy she went out with? Wayne Smythe?”

“Yeah, that was a while back, right? He’s Hailey’s cousin. I remember her mentioning him being pissed at Rachelle for dumping him.”

“Right, I’ll just let comments about that bitch simmer for a few days.” Riley looked down at Mary. “Rachelle and Mary are fighting the same demons right now. Rachelle’s just farther down the road and had to go it alone. She didn’t have an army at her side, armed to the teeth to give her a leg up.”

“What the hell do you mean?” Dylan asked, his gut clenched as he leaned forward. “You saying Wayne hurt her?”

“I’m not just saying it, Dylan. I freaking said it repeatedly and none of you commando brothers of mine gave enough of a flying damn about what’s going on in your own backyard to stop and listen. It’s not just Rachelle. Something really weird’s going on, and she’s terrified. Hell, I’m terrified.”

“When the dust with Mary’s stuff settles, we’ll talk. I want to know what’s going on so we can help.”

“Okay, good.” Riley smiled and motioned toward the bed. “She’s a good catch. I didn’t think you had it in you. You were always the shy, quiet one.”

Dylan chuckled. “Fortunately, that’s her type.”

“Keep her close. Rachelle...” Riley swallowed. Tears formed in her eyes. “Don’t walk away from her, not now when she needs you the most.”

“You’re the second one to imply I’d walk out on her. I’m not liking that.”

“She’ll push you away. She’ll push everyone far, far away until she’s a ghost walking, a husk of what she once was. Don’t let her. Hang on tight. That’s what she wants, even if she’s too scared to admit it.”

“Riles, honey, you know you can tell me anything, right?”

She swiped her eyes and rose from the bed. “Sorry, it’s been a long night. I’m gonna crash, get a few hours rest before Mom storms the castle. I’ll be around to check on Mary in a few hours. Remember what I said. She’ll wake fighting. She’s a lot like Rachelle.”

“Honey, stay. We’ll talk about her and what’s messing you up.”

“Later, Dylan. You’re exactly where you’re needed most. I’ve got everything under control. If I need you, I know where you’ll be.”

“Any of us, Riles. You mean more to us than The Arsenal and everyone else here.”

“Not everyone,” she whispered with a knowing grin. “Take care of her, Dylan.”

His gut twisted as she headed out the door. “Riles.”

“Yeah?”

“Doctor Parsons, the new head shrink. Get Rachelle out here. She’ll take her on. She’s a PTSD specialist. Logan swears she’s the best.”

She nodded and left. Dylan leaned back and stifled the curse rising in his throat. He’d have a chat with Marshall in the morning. They needed more attention focused on their backyard problems. If someone was messing with anyone in Resino and the local cops weren’t doing their job, it was on them to police the situation.

The Masons and Burtons represented the town’s interests. The two largest ranch families in the county, they hired locals and kept as much of their supply purchases and whatnot local as they could. It was what their ancestors did, how Resino came to be.

Dylan should’ve listened to Riley. She wore Rachelle’s pain as her own. The world was a violent place. They’d started The Arsenal to make a difference, an impact.

Warrior’s Path was a good start, but maybe they should be doing more. He leaned back and closed his eyes. A couple hours rest would help ease the tension headache forming.