CHAPTER FOURTEEN
SAHARA AWOKE BEFORE BRAND. She sighed as she nuzzled against the side of his broad, warm chest. Her right hand rested over a hair-dusted pec and, careful not to wake him, she let her fingers tease through the crisp hair.
He smelled incredible, a scent unique to Brand.
Even in sleep he held her close, his strong arm around her. Brand slept on his back, the covers down around his waist. She was on her side, tucked against him, one leg over his, the inside of her knee against his groin.
They were both naked.
Last night had been beyond amazing. Sahara didn’t know if it was the excitement of the day or their personal conflict, but Brand had been especially attentive, leaving no part of her untouched. He’d been in a take-charge mood, a little dominant, and she’d loved every second of it. He had a way of issuing sensual orders that stole her breath and heightened her anticipation. Even before he’d thrust into her, she’d been on the verge of release, but he’d held back, content to watch her climax...then he’d made that happen two more times before he finally let himself go.
It was no wonder she’d awakened with a smile in place.
Even more important than the incredible sex was that Brand hadn’t let her ruin things. He’d taken her doubts and somehow reassured her without letting her off the hook for meddling in his private business. Now, after a good night’s sleep and a new perspective, Sahara was so glad.
They’d still have to talk about Becky, but at least she felt he’d listen to her explanations and maybe give her ideas a chance to work.
She also thought about his denial at being perfect. Without the glum attitude of yesterday, she could think about that more realistically.
Brand was right; he wasn’t perfect.
Suddenly he stirred, his arm tightening around her in a brief hug before he even opened his eyes.
Sounding sexy and sleepy, he rumbled, “Good morning, gorgeous.”
“Morning.” She half crawled over him, her elbows on his chest. “Sleep well?”
“After the way you wore me out? Yeah.”
“Me?” She gave him a laughing kiss. “I’m the one who was tortured with orgasms.”
“Tortured, huh?” His lashes lifted and his dark, smoky eyes met hers. “I love watching you come, Sahara.”
“In that case, feel free to do a repeat whenever you want.”
His hands slid down her back to her bottom, and she quickly found herself completely over him, her legs trapped between his. “I don’t suppose we have time this morning?”
She glanced at the clock, then let out a sigh of disappointment. “Lucky I’m the boss, because I’m already running late.”
He lightly touched the bandage on her head. “I’m sure everyone will understand under the circumstances.”
Sahara frowned. “I thought about what you said, and came to the conclusion that you’re right.”
Wariness entered his eyes. “About what?”
“You not being perfect.” She gave him a quick kiss so he wouldn’t be insulted. “Case in point is your insistence that a little bump on the head is a big deal. You know if it had been Justice, you wouldn’t have given it a thought.”
His gaze drifted down to her exposed cleavage, exaggerated by the way her breasts squashed against his chest. “Justice was a fighter. He’s had plenty of head wounds and knows how to judge if it’s serious or not.”
“You think Justice has more sense than me?”
“Justice might act goofy, but he’s not. Besides, this is about experience, not intelligence.”
She gave that some thought, and decided to let it go. “You also accused me of being bossy, but I think you’re even bossier.”
He smiled. “When it comes to keeping you safe, you bet.” He had both hands back on her rear, gently kneading. “And for the record, I like your bossiness. Your strength and independence are both sexy as hell.”
Sahara reared up more to give him a look of incredulity. “You definitely made it sound like a complaint.”
“For me to work for you, yeah. But not for this.” He pressed a growing erection to her belly. “Not for a relationship.”
“Oh.” It was hard to concentrate when she felt him full and hard, throbbing beneath her. “Well, I think you’re a little too autocratic.”
“You would, since you like doing things your own way without answering to anyone. But that’s what relationships are, honey. Give and take.”
“What are you going to give?”
He smiled. “How about we have this discussion over coffee?”
So what he’d give would require a whole discussion? “Count me in.” She couldn’t wait to hear it. “I’ll get the coffee started and then meet you in the kitchen in fifteen minutes.” She scrambled off the bed and headed for the bathroom without waiting for a reply.
When she emerged a few minutes later, her face washed and her teeth brushed, Brand was no longer in the bed. She pulled on his discarded shirt from yesterday and went to the kitchen to make the coffee.
Back in her bedroom, she chose an outfit to wear and quickly dressed, stepped into her shoes and contained her hair in a long, sleek ponytail fastened at the nape of her neck.
She applied her usual makeup in under five minutes, then headed to the kitchen. With smug satisfaction, she saw that she’d beat Brand in getting ready.
Yes, she was competitive, and whenever possible she tried to prove that she wasn’t the stereotypical female who needed hours to prepare for her day.
She’d just filled her coffee cup when her cell phone rang. For a heartbeat she stared at it, then at the doorway to see if Brand would come charging in. He’d gotten decidedly protective about the anonymous messages she’d received.
He didn’t appear, so she assumed he hadn’t heard the ring.
Finally ungluing her feet from the floor, Sahara lunged forward and glanced at the screen. It was Enoch.
Anxious, she snatched up the phone and swiped her thumb across the screen. “Enoch, good morning. Everything okay?”
“Good morning, Sahara.”
Recognizing something in his tone, she asked breathlessly, “What’s the matter?”
He paused, then gave a short laugh. “I never could keep anything from you.”
“Why would you want to?” Again, she looked to ensure Brand hadn’t approached without her notice. She lowered her voice to keep from drawing his attention, in case he could hear her. “You’re my bestie, Enoch. You can tell me anything.”
“It’s just that I’d prefer you not get your hopes up...or do anything crazy.”
“It’s about Scott, isn’t it?” Her brother was the only topic that could get her hopes up, or make her do crazy things.
She hadn’t yet had a chance to update Enoch on her weekend. She would have done that first thing this morning.
After doing a happy twirl across the kitchen floor, she said, “Tell me!”
“It might be Scott. I would have explained when you reached the office, but Brand usually escorts you down and then you have a meeting right after, so I figured I’d call...”
“You’re killing me, Enoch.” She felt like she might jump out of her skin in anticipation. “What is it?”
“Your PI called me. I didn’t understand why at first, but he had a message to pass along and he was instructed that no one else should know.”
“Meaning he didn’t want to chance calling me directly?”
“Supposedly an order that came from Scott. But since the PI has never spoken with Scott, he can’t say for sure, and that means you have to be extra, extra cautious. Promise me, Sahara.”
“A message?” From the day her brother had gone missing, she’d had a PI looking for him. Every day she hoped for a clue, any clue, that proved Scott was still around. “What message?”
He spilled everything in a rush. “Someone claiming to be Scott called and said he’d been aware of the investigation for a while, and apparently had been dodging detection, but now he feels he has to reach out to you. He wants you to meet him tonight.”
Already planning on how she’d make it happen, she demanded, “Where?”
“Promise me, first, or I won’t tell you anything else. I need your word that you’ll be careful.”
“Of course. ‘Careful’ is my middle name.”
“No,” he corrected with exaggerated patience. “‘Insanely reckless and impetuous’ is your middle name. Especially where Scott is concerned.”
Sahara squeezed the phone and frowned. “What is the message?”
Enoch groaned. “The person claiming to be Scott wants to meet with you privately. Just you and no one else. He said he doesn’t know these new bodyguards you’ve brought on board, and you’ve all but retired the established guards.”
Sahara went on defense without thinking about it. “The men I hired are better in every single way. It figures that Scott would second-guess me! Usually I concede to his judgment, but not this time.”
“If it turns out it really is Scott, you can tell him all about it. But my concern is that he wants you to come alone.”
Since she totally believed Scott was alive and arranging to reconnect with her, she waved off Enoch’s worry. “Where?”
Enoch sighed. “I don’t know exactly, but he said it’s where the two of you used to go to talk.”
She didn’t have to think about it at all; she knew exactly where he meant. “It’s definitely Scott!”
“You know where he means?”
“Yes, of course.” They’d often gone to the quiet spot near the river behind the privacy fence of her parents’ property.
“Tell Brand.”
“Are you nuts? Brand would flip out, and then he’d get all macho and protective and insist on going along, and since Scott doesn’t know or trust him—”
“He should trust him because you trust him.”
Unfortunately, her relationship with her big brother had never worked that way. She assumed he would always think of her as his little sister first, and a responsible, intelligent adult second. “I’m sure I can convince him, especially once he meets the guys, but until then—”
From behind her, Brand said, “Until then, you’re going nowhere without me.”
Sahara froze. Damn and blast, how had she forgotten to watch for Brand? She’d gotten so excited about seeing Scott again, about having his survival confirmed, that she’d been oblivious to everything else.
Through the phone, Enoch whispered, “Brand walked in?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll let you go.”
He disconnected before she could stop him.
And still Sahara didn’t move. She kept the phone to her ear, her thoughts rushing first one way, then another, as she tried to figure out how to explain.
Finally, deciding she’d just insist that she was the boss and this was her very personal business, she lowered the phone and turned to Brand with an artificial smile.
The smile vanished when she saw that he was on his own phone.
She heard him say “Leese? Can you get everyone together? Yeah, real important.” His assessing gaze met Sahara’s. “Your boss is planning to sneak out on her own to meet someone who may or may not be her brother.” He nodded, his smile grim, and said, “My thoughts exactly. Right. I’ll see you in an hour.”
* * *
ENOCH GAVE HER a look of sympathy as she entered his office with Brand and found Miles, Justice and Leese all waiting. They stared at her with mixed concern and resolve.
“Don’t you all have assignments?” she groused.
“Rearranged,” Enoch explained. “Leese has ninety minutes, Miles and Justice have two hours.”
“And Brand,” she remarked in a saccharine tone, “has all the time in the world to butt in.”
“That’s what I’m willing to take,” Brand said. “Your sarcasm.”
Realizing that he’d harked back to the discussion they should have had in the kitchen, she made a face.
“And I’m willing to give you all the leeway you need—as long as you don’t endanger yourself.”
Which meant no leeway at all.
“In turn,” he continued, “you could try a little trust.”
Seeing no hope for it, Sahara nodded. “You know I trust you.”
“Thank you.” To Enoch, Brand asked, “Got a conference room ready?”
“This way.” Enoch led the small troop down a hall to a private boardroom that featured a long table and ten chairs, a wall of windows overlooking the river, and a full coffeepot with cups, cream and sugar already set out.
Brand stuck close to Sahara, following her as she headed to the farthest end.
Disgruntled, she said low, “We were supposed to be talking about Becky.”
“Why? You agreed to try not to butt in, and I agreed to be understanding if you do.” Unlike her, Brand seemed to be taking everything in stride, and his inexhaustible patience made her want to scream.
He pulled out a rolling chair at the head of the table for her, then took the seat beside her as the others chose chairs nearby at either side.
She mean-mugged them, these men who worked for her—men she now considered friends.
They smiled back.
Damn it, they were all so wonderful, how could she stay annoyed? She knew they meant well, but they didn’t understand Scott. He’d run off again if she didn’t follow his directions to the letter.
As if he’d read her mind, Justice said, “Aw, buck up, buttercup. We won’t chase off your brother.”
“We can be subtle,” Leese added. “You know that, right?”
“And in case it isn’t Scott,” Miles explained, “we need to be there. You’re not dumb, Sahara. If you looked at this objectively, you’d admit we’re right.”
Brand leaned forward, his forearms on the table, hands clasped together and expression serious. “It’ll be okay, babe.”
The stiffness left her spine. Her life had been so much less complicated before these big, lovable lugs had entered it, but she knew deep down she wouldn’t trade them for the world.
“Enoch,” she said to her hovering best friend and ace assistant, “would you mind getting pastries to go with the coffee?”
He smiled in relief, recognizing the request as a return to the norm. “I already did. I’ll see if they’ve arrived yet.” He left the room with a new jaunt to his stride.
“We’ll wait for him,” Leese said. “After all, he’s the one who got the message, right?”
“From the PI, yes,” she said. “But I could just call him directly—”
“No,” Miles said. “That might tip off whoever contacted him—your brother or someone impersonating him. We didn’t all sneak in here just to blow the element of surprise.”
“Right.” She should have thought of that. “How did you sneak in?” Enoch had told her they’d come into Body Armor in a way that no one would know they had congregated. She had to admit, she was curious.
“Catalina drove,” Leese said. “Anyone could see her dropping me off near the parking garage entrance, but they wouldn’t have seen Miles and Justice, who were ducked down in back and entered low when I opened the back door to grab a jacket.”
Sahara nodded. “Very sneaky. I like it.”
“Sneaky,” Justice growled, “is you trying to go off without us.”
She held up a hand. “I’ve already rethought that and of course you’re right. I’m positive it is Scott, but on the tiny chance that it might not be, I agree I should have backup.”
“Well, hallelujah,” Leese said.
She turned to Brand. “I probably would have come to that conclusion on my own, so please don’t gloat.”
“Wouldn’t think of it.” His phone buzzed and he withdrew it to look at the screen, quieted it with a touch of a button, then put it back in his pocket.
Suspicion bloomed. “Who was that?”
Brand shook his head. “Not important.”
Before she could question him further, Enoch reentered with a tray of donuts, Danish and muffins. While he served coffee and the snacks, Sahara studied Brand.
She half turned toward him, asking quietly, “Was that Becky?”
He snorted. “After all you gave her, odds are she’d contact you before me.”
Feeling culpable all over again, Sahara looked down at her hands. “Then who—”
“So nosy,” he said in a mildly teasing tone, surprising her. “Actually it was Drew Black from the SBC.”
Her gaze shot to his, apprehension getting a stranglehold on her. She knew that Drew Black was the president of the mixed martial arts organization Supreme Battle Challenge, or SBC as it was widely known. “What did he want?”
Brand shrugged as if it didn’t matter. “I assume the organization want an answer about the next fight. I’ve been putting them off for a while now.”
Her chest tightened. Sahara knew she could lose him to the sport he loved, but lately, what he wanted mattered more to her than what she wanted.
Of course, Leese overheard. “Have you made a decision?”
Both Miles and Justice tuned in, waiting for his reply.
Brand looked only at Sahara. “The fight they want me to take is in Japan. I’d have to start training now to be ready, and there wouldn’t be much time for anything else. Those two things combined made the decision for me.”
Sahara frowned, paying little attention to the buzz around her as Miles, Leese and Justice weighed in, discussing the other fighter, the venue, even the payout in the contract. She wanted Brand to sign on as a bodyguard, but she didn’t want him to skip anything important to him.
He’d already been struggling with his self-imposed obligation to Becky, and she’d only added to that burden.
She cut through the conversation to ask, “You’re worried about me, aren’t you?”
His dark gaze fixed on her. “Very.”
Aware of the sudden fascinated silence, she chewed her lower lip. “I wouldn’t want you to—”
“I know.” He covered both her hands with one of his own. “I have a lot to consider, but there’s time for me to decide. For now, let’s figure out this thing with your brother.”
* * *
THE MOST ALARMING PART, Brand thought, was that Scott—or someone pretending to be Scott—had chosen tonight to meet with Sahara. That made them scramble to create their plans.
Worse, it was dark as Hades down by the river where she said they were to meet. Not even the streetlamps reached, and with only a sliver of a moon and a few scattered stars, they could easily lose sight of her.
Brand, crouched down on the floor in the back of one of the agency’s SUVs, said, “Park so your headlamps light the way and leave them on.” He’d already disconnected the interior light so when he opened the door and followed discreetly, no lights would give him away.
With nervousness, or maybe excitement lacing her tone, she replied, “Okay. Good idea. I know my way, but still...there could be snakes out there. Or spiders, or—”
“You’re afraid of spiders and snakes?”
“Not when I can see them, but I don’t like the idea of stumbling into them in the dark.”
“Yeah, I wouldn’t like that either.” Brand felt the surface of the road change as she drove off the asphalt and bumped over the rocky ground.
“I’ll get as close as I can,” she said softly. “But it’s been a while since I was here, and that was always on foot. I don’t think it’s safe to take the car too much farther.”
They’d driven an hour south along continually narrowing roads that followed the river. In the distance, Brand heard a barge horn echoing over the water.
“It’s really foggy,” Sahara whispered.
“We can cancel at any time,” he said fast, hoping to encourage her to do just that. “Say the word.”
“No. Foggy is probably good, in case anyone is looking for Scott.”
“You have the mic in your pocket? We need to make sure the others can hear every word, too.” The plan was for him to creep closer on foot, staying low in the dew-wet weeds and scrub bushes, while the others encircled the area, Leese on higher ground, Miles and Justice near the road, ready to close in if necessary. They’d gotten there earlier to find their hiding spots, to help avoid detection.
“I have it,” Sahara promised him. “We tested it and retested it.”
Enoch remained at the offices, monitoring the tracer tacked to Sahara’s sweater.
They’d done all they could to ensure her safety, short of refusing to let her go, and he knew well that no man could do that. Sahara was a woman who understood the danger, weighed the risk to each encounter and made her own decisions.
She was a woman who loved her brother dearly and would probably face off with the devil to get him back.
Brand briefly closed his eyes. God, he hated that Scott had put her in this position.
She stopped the car. “I can see the river from here.” She inhaled, then slowly blew out the breath. “Brand?”
“Yeah, babe?”
“I believe it’s Scott, I really do. But at the same time, I’m so afraid that he might really be gone and that I’m just fooling myself, and that would be so awful—”
“Shh,” Brand said, wishing he had the words to reassure her. He just didn’t know. If it was her brother, he was a real dick for putting her through this. “You’re the strongest person I know, Sahara. So strong, you leave me awed. You can do this, and however it turns out, we’ll deal with it.”
“Together?”
“That’s sure as hell my plan.”
Silence hung in the humid air, then she whispered, “Did you know I was falling in love with you?”
Jesus, she had a knack for startling timing. A new rush of protectiveness surged through him, making his voice rough. “I was hopeful.”
He heard the smile in her tone when she teased, “That was easier to admit than I expected.”
“I’m glad. Soon as we get through this, I’ll make a few admissions of my own.”
She started to twist to see him.
“Don’t,” Brand warned. “If anyone is watching the car, they’ll wonder who you’re talking to.” Was she stalling to work up her nerve? He imagined visiting the area with her brother at her side was vastly different from a late-night rendezvous under potentially dangerous circumstances. “I’ll be right behind you, okay?”
“Okay. Brand?” She hesitated. “You be careful, too. I couldn’t bear if you got hurt helping me.”
“After what you just told me? You can bet my plan is to have you all to myself tonight in bed, and after I’ve exhausted you, then we’ll do some talking.”
“That sounds nice.”
He heard an odd noise on the roof of the SUV and almost groaned. “Is that rain?”
“It’s just drizzling. I have an umbrella, and I won’t melt.”
From his crouched position in back, he watched her stiffen her shoulders.
“It’s time. Thank you for being here with me.” She opened the door and stepped out, opening her umbrella before closing the door again, giving him no chance to say anything more.
Brand waited until she’d had time to go a few yards ahead, then he slipped from the SUV. Dressed all in black, he blended with the shadows. Midway across, he could see ribbons of light dancing over the surface of the river. Farther away, traffic hummed over a bridge.
This area, though, was nothing but rough bushes, rocks and crowded trees that shrouded the shore in darkness. He could barely see Sahara as she gingerly sat on a fallen log.
Her voice, soft and uncertain, carried to him when she whispered, “Scott?”
Ducking down behind a damp cluster of barren trees, Brand withdrew his gun—and a strong flashlight. If necessary, he could use the light to distinguish Sahara from anyone else.
They both heard the rustling of leaves as a body emerged from the right. Tall, dressed in a black slicker with a hat pulled low. Brand tensed.
Sahara shot out of her seat, the umbrella held limply at her side. “Scott!”
The intruder’s arms opened and Sahara flew into them. Brand saw her feet leave the ground as the man hugged her hard, both of them oblivious to the rain.
Suddenly Sahara was sobbing, and Brand felt everything inside him clench in pain. He’d never thought to hear her cry like that, but now she wept with the same enthusiasm that she did everything else.
Her brother whispered, “Shh, shhh. I’m sorry, sis. So damn sorry.”
Sahara slugged him, then shoved out of his arms. “They told me you were dead!”
“I know.” He grabbed her in for another hug. “I had no choice, and I promise I can explain everything.”
“You could have told me you were alive!”
“No, I couldn’t tell anyone. I knew certain people would be watching you, and I’m sorry, hon, but you’re an open book.” He framed her face. “I didn’t expect you to deny it, though, and to send a damned PI haunting my every step.”
Sahara drew a shuddering breath. “You can come home now?”
“Not yet, but hopefully soon.” Taking the umbrella from her and holding it over them both, Scott led her back to the log.
Brand had to keep reminding himself that this was her brother, a brother she adored, so he couldn’t dismember the guy for making her cry.
But he wanted to.
“I can’t believe it’s raining.” Scott sat with his arm around her, his head tipped to rest on the top of hers. “You’re warm enough?”
She nodded, sniffled and dug out a tissue. “Yes. Where have you been, Scott?”
“Everywhere. Always on the move. Hiding.” He stretched out his legs and heaved a sigh. “That night on the yacht... I was supposed to die.” He touched his ribs. “The bastards stabbed me, but though it bled like crazy, it was only a superficial wound.”
“Stabbed?” With new tears making her voice thick, she asked, “You’re sure you’re all right?”
He nodded. “I dove overboard before they could do more damage. It was so dark, you couldn’t see past the yacht’s lights. None of them knew anything about boating, so they kept watching the water where I’d gone in.” He hugged her. “They didn’t expect me to surface at the stern.”
Sahara gasped. “The life raft!”
“You know I kept it strapped on the transom for easy access. They were excited, all talking at once, so they didn’t hear me unfasten it. Even once I had it, I kept swimming away from the boat.”
“You were bleeding?” she asked with a tremor in her voice.
“Yeah, and I don’t mind telling you, every shark movie I’d ever seen kept playing in my head.”
Asshole, Brand wanted to shout. Why give her the gruesome details now? She was already upset. Scott should be reassuring her, not adding to her nightmare memories.
“I was still pushing farther away when they started the motor and drove away from me. Then I inflated the raft and made my way to shore.”
“You keep saying them and they. Who was it, Scott? Who did this to us?”
A gust of wind rode in off the river, causing the leaves over Brand’s head to shudder, spilling more rain down on him. He swiped a hand over his face, determined to keep Sahara in his sights at all times.
He watched as Scott struggled with the umbrella.
“Let’s talk in your car,” he said.
She agreed, but just as they stood, all hell broke loose.
Two men exploded out of the bushes, guns in hand and shouting orders.
Brand started to lunge forward, but something solid hit him in the back of the head. He dropped to his knees, lost his hold on the flashlight, but maintained consciousness by a thread. The bastards had a strobe light and that, along with the shouting, added to the confusion. He could hear yelling, heard Sahara’s distinctive voice cursing someone and then he heard a gunshot.
His heart went into his throat—until Sahara screamed, “Scott!”
She sounded equal parts panicked and pissed, but not hurt.
Knowing Leese, Miles and Justice were already on their way, Brand shoved to his feet. Through the wildly flashing light, he saw the men racing toward a small motorboat moored on the shore. In another bright flash he saw that one man had an arm locked around Sahara’s throat, dragging her toward it.
“No!” He ran full tilt, stumbling twice because of the knock on the head, falling once onto the wet, loamy ground. He didn’t stay down even when he heard Leese call his name.
The motor revved on the boat and it shot out to the river. Too many bodies filled that small boat, one of them Sahara’s. He didn’t dare shoot, not with her in the mix of the turmoil.
A gunshot sounded from the boat, and a second later he heard a snarled “Bitch!” along with the sounds of a scuffle.
“Sahara!”
“Take care of Scott,” she shouted, the words muffled by the wind and rain.
“Scott’s dead,” someone said with a laugh.
“No,” she screamed. “Please...”
The rest of her words faded away on the dark night.
Brand realized that he stood waist-deep in the frigid water. His heart felt numb, his lungs unable to get enough air.
Something bumped against his leg, and he looked down to see Sahara’s mangled umbrella washing against the shore. His throat tightened painfully.
“Brand,” Leese said urgently. “Come on. We have to go. Enoch has a tracer on her. You know that. We’ll find her.”
Justice added, “But it’s better if we don’t wait.”
Brand slowly turned, mud sucking at his feet. “Her brother?” he asked with ominous undertones.
“Coming around,” Miles said. “He caught a bullet in the arm, just a graze, I think, but apparently he hit his head when he went down. I guess that’s why the goons thought he was dead, why they left him and took her instead.”
Fury carried Brand to where Scott Silver sat on the sodden ground, his back propped against the log, his head hanging forward.
Sahara’s phone, still lit up, lay on the ground beside him. Brand picked it up and put it in his pocket. His heart started to pound in thundering beats.
With one hand, he hauled Scott to his tiptoes and rattled him. “You ignorant fucker! Do you realize what you’ve done?”
“I was careful,” Scott muttered, wincing with the pain in his head and arm. “No one followed me, so they must have followed you.”
Driven by blind rage, Brand cocked back a fist—and Justice captured it. Calm to the point of morbid, he said, “Stop and think, man. If you kill him, Sahara will never forgive you.”
“You heard her,” Miles said with his own measure of anger. “She’s worried about the bastard. For her sake, we have to take care of him.”
“I can take care of myself,” Scott growled.
It required three deep breaths before Brand was able to open his fingers and let Scott drop back flat on his feet. He retrieved his fist from Justice, who gave him an apologetic whack on the back.
“His head, damn it,” Leese said. “Go easy, will you. You saw him get conked.”
“Butt of a gun, it looked like,” Miles said. “Sorry we didn’t get here quick enough.”
“I’m fine,” Brand lied...and immediately thought of how Sahara had said the same, how she’d stubbornly insisted it was so. Despite her denials, she was still hurt, and now unscrupulous bastards had her again. “After I get her back,” Brand told Scott, “I plan to finish this.”
“Suit yourself.” Scott clenched a hand around his bleeding arm. “But we have to move now.” As if he thought he could take charge of the situation, he started for the car, saying, “Tell me who has the tracer on her. How well do you know him? And how many cars did you bring? Jesus, it’s no wonder you were—”
He squawked when Justice and Miles each grabbed one of his arms and practically threw him into the back of the SUV. Miles climbed in behind him. Brand followed.
Justice got in the front passenger seat and Leese got behind the wheel.
“What the hell is this?” Scott demanded, looking a little wary when Brand turned on the flashlight.
“Take off your coat.” He located the first aid kit and opened it. For Sahara, he’d keep her asshole brother alive—for now.
“I don’t need—”
Miles said, “No one gives a shit what you need. We’re doing this for Sahara, so take off the fucking coat.”
From the front, Leese said, “I’m calling Enoch now, so keep it down.”
Silently, Scott struggled out of his coat. “I know Enoch. He has the tracer?”
No one replied, and no one moved to help him with his coat, but as he eased his arm from the sleeve, Brand saw the blood everywhere and quietly cursed.
Enoch answered on the first ring. “Everything okay?”
Leese said, “They got her, Enoch. We need to know which way to go.”
“Oh God.” Worry sharpened his voice. “Oh Jesus.”
“Stop praying and give us directions,” Justice ordered.
“I’m on it, I’m on it. Let me see...” The seconds ticked by.
Needing to occupy himself, Brand got out cleaning swabs, gauze pads and tape. His eyes burned and his guts churned.
She had to be okay. He had to have a chance to tell her how much she meant to him. She was...everything.
Every. Fucking. Thing.
If they touched her, if they hurt her, he’d—
“Okay,” Enoch said, breathing hard. “They’re on 71 heading toward 75. How long before you can be on the highway?”
“They crossed the river in a boat, so they have the jump on us. Maybe fifteen minutes or so, given traffic—once I reach the actual roadway.”
Justice glanced over the seat. “Hold on. It’ll be bumpy for a bit.”
“Don’t worry about us,” Miles said.
Leese drove fast over the rough terrain, anxious to get them on solid ground. Every second felt like an hour.
“Take off the shirt,” Miles said quietly.
Solemn, Scott did as directed.
“How bad is your head?”
“Mild concussion, probably,” Scott said.
“I wasn’t talking to you.”
Brand glanced up as he scooted closer to Sahara’s brother. “I’ll live. Let’s just concentrate on getting to her.”
“We will, you know,” Miles vowed. “Get her, I mean.”
Brand nodded at Miles. “Call the old guys. See if they’ve found out anything from Grant.”
“Douglas Grant?” Scott asked.
Again they ignored him. “And see if they’ve found a way to contact Ross Moran.”
“I know how to contact him,” Scott offered quickly.
Everyone went still.
Scott cleared his throat. “I paid him, you know. Left the money in his apartment, then texted him and told him so. I figured that’s why they were after Sahara, trying to get what I owed. I wouldn’t have asked her to meet me if I didn’t think that shit was already settled.”
“How?” Justice demanded. “How did you find him?”
“I spent a hell of a lot of time tracking him down, that’s how. He’s key to exposing the bastards who tried to murder me.”
“Tried being the operative word,” Miles murmured.
Scott nodded. “Ross had done a job for me, but then I was attacked on my yacht and never got a chance to pay him.”
Everyone went silent while Enoch gave more directions.
When he finished, Leese ordered, “Start explaining, and make it fast.”
They now had something to go on. Brand couldn’t think about anything else or he’d lose the fragile grip on his control. “I’ll bandage while you talk.” Examining Scott’s arm gave him something to focus on besides his worry.
Miles held the flashlight. Neither of them reacted to the raw, ravaged wound in Scott’s arm. Inch and a half wide, about three inches long, already blackened around the edges, it looked painful.
Knowing it would burn like hell, Brand swabbed at the blood, cleaning enough off around the damaged area so that the wrapping would hold.
Scott hissed in his breath, but held perfectly still.
“You need to go to the hospital—”
“Not until I have my sister back.”
“—but no one is taking you there yet,” Brand finished. It required everything he had not to blame the brother.
Still on an open line, Enoch asked, “You found her brother?”
“Yeah. And a whole shit-ton of trouble.”
Enoch surprised everyone by gritting out, “Son of a bitch. I don’t believe this.”
Scott looked momentarily guilty, then rallied. “I have Ross’s number. The bastard moved around a few times, but I found his new apartment. I left the money there that I owed him, then texted him to let him know. He should have found it already.”
“You paid him everything?” Justice asked.
“Twice what I owed him, actually. I thought that would be the end of it.”
“You thought your ass was finally safe,” Miles accused.
“If that’s all they wanted,” Leese asked, “then who took Sahara today?”
“I recognized voices.” Scott’s face showed the pain he felt, physically and emotionally. “Not Ross’s, but I definitely heard Olsen Winger. Maybe Terrance. There was so much chaos—”
“And that damned flashing light,” Justice muttered.
Scott nodded. “They work with Ross Moran.” Levering carefully to one hip, he dug the phone from his pocket, thumbed the screen and pulled up Ross’s number.
Miles took it from him.
Scott started to object, but the dark stare from Miles convinced him to stay quiet.
“Let’s not call him yet,” Leese decided. “We need to get closer first. We don’t want to push them into doing anything...rash.”
Brand squeezed his eyes shut. No, they didn’t want the bastards doing anything rash—like kidnapping her a second time, or shooting her brother. In comparison, rash could only mean one thing, but he couldn’t contemplate that.
She had to be okay.
Trusting his friends to think clearly, to accurately gauge the situation, Brand busied himself by layering gauze pads on Scott’s gunshot wound, then he wrapped and taped it down. “I have aspirin.”
“I’ll take three.”
Brand handed them over. Inside, he felt like a bomb slowly ticking, the explosion getting closer and closer.
Enoch interrupted with more directions. “They’re off the highway and driving through Darville.”
“Never heard of it,” Leese said.
“Just looked it up,” Enoch said. “It’s a dead little town, most of the businesses gone.”
A perfect place to hide a victim.
Enoch went through directions for the exit to take, and then the roads to follow. Justice put everything in his phone to use GPS.
“Tell us if they stop,” Leese said, speeding fast now that he was on wide highway. Luckily the traffic was low, which allowed them to make up some time.
In the distance, lightning shattered across the black sky. A few seconds later, thunder rumbled.
The storm matched Brand’s turbulent mood. Sitting back against the wall of the SUV, he narrowed his gaze on Sahara’s brother. “Now,” he said, his voice evenly modulated to hide his rage. “Finish explaining.”