Twisted Mercy (Red Team Book 4) (36 page)

Hope tried to eat, but was too tense to take more than a few more bites. “Ivy, everything looks so beautiful here,” she said when there was a pause in conversation.

Ivy smiled. “It does, doesn’t it? I'm very pleased with the way everything turned out. It was a lot of planning and a lot of work. I’m lucky Ty let us take over his house.”

Hope nodded. “I have to apologize for being so late.”

“No, you don’t,” Max said.

“I do. I couldn’t decide whether to come or not, and when I did, I truly had nothing to wear.”

Fiona touched Hope’s wrist briefly. “Oh! You should have just come anyway. We would have found something for you!”

Hope smiled. “The ladies in town at the tea shop were like fairy godmothers. I’ve never known anyone to be so kind to a stranger.” She told them their names. “Debora said she helped me because of how you helped her son.”

Ivy smiled. She reached up to hold Kit’s hand. “I remember that. He was so hungry and so disappointed that no one was home at his house. We kept him company until they got back later that evening.”

Another man approached the group. She saw his tux from the corner of her eye and then he stopped behind Greer. Owen. A chill ripped down her spine. He held out a hand to her. “Hope, will you dance with me?”

Hope’s eyes widened. She sent Max a glance. He was staring at Owen. Kit put a hand on Max’s shoulder, as if he, too, had felt his visceral reaction. She didn’t know what to do, but she didn’t think the invitation was optional. She nodded and set her napkin on the table.
 

Owen walked several steps ahead of her to the area of the patio where couples were dancing. The evening had progressed to the point where the festive strings of lights overhead were needed. Several torches were lit around the area, sending a faint tang of citronella into the air.
 

On the dance floor, Owen offered no chance for her to change her mind. He took hold of her right hand and set her left on his shoulder. Hope tried to relax and simply follow his steps, but she felt as if she suddenly had more feet than the standard set of two, and didn’t know what to do with herself. She was so much more comfortable with a Harley than a dance floor.
 

“I wasn’t sure you would come tonight.”

“I wasn’t either.”

“I was hoping you wouldn’t.”

Hope felt the shock of those words cut through her. She tried to break free, but his grip was unrelenting. She hadn’t been mistaken that Max’s boss didn’t like her. Her fear dissolved into anger. He’d asked her to dance to separate her from Max…and confront her in a place where he didn’t think she’d make a scene.

“If you have something to say, Owen, it’s best if you just say it.”

“I want you to leave Max alone.”

“Or else…?”

“No ‘or else.’ He has a dangerous job to do that I don’t want him distracted from.”

“I see. And when his assignment is finished, then will he be free to choose to see me?”

“It depends. There are things we don’t know about you.”

“You know everything I know about me. Your guys have crawled through my computer and papers.”

“We don’t know why King pointed you toward Max.”

“I don’t care why King called out Max. I only care about my brother’s safety. It’s why I came here in the first place.”

“And what about Max?”

Hope looked over to the table where he’d been sitting. He and Kit were gone. “I never expected Max.” Why did her heart hurt so badly at the thought of leaving him? As she looked up at his formidable boss, the truth of her feelings for Max slammed into her: she loved him.
 

The tears that filled her eyes distorted Owen’s image, but she couldn’t miss the way his voice hardened or how the hand that held hers tightened. It was as if he knew what she was thinking and wasn’t happy with her revelation. She was grateful at that point that he had such a firm hold on her, for the fear he dredged up made her knees weak.
 

“If that’s the truth, Hope,” Owen whispered, responding to the words she hadn’t confessed, “then don’t endanger him. He already has your brother to keep safe; he can’t afford to worry about you, too. Give him the room he needs to finish this complex mission.”
 

Hope blinked the tears from her eyes. The dance ended then. Couples moved from the floor. Others stayed in place, stepping seamlessly into the next dance. Owen took her arm and started to lead her back to the table.
 

The music was throbbing in her ears. The joy that the people around her displayed suddenly seemed discordant with the void that was opening up inside her chest. Everywhere she looked, someone was smiling, laughing, while her heart pumped hollow black shadows through her veins.

She pulled free of him. She shook her head. “I’m sorry. I-I can’t—” She spun around and sprinted through the large living room to a powder room in the front hallway.
 

Max watched Owen and Hope on the dance floor. What were they talking about? Hope’s shoulders were rigid and Owen’s hold on her bare back was white-knuckled. Max started to get up, but Kit’s hand restrained him. Max shoved free of his team lead’s hold.
 

“Are you fucking me?” he snarled as he got to his feet and faced Kit.

“Not here. Let’s take it to the den.”

“You go to the fucking den. In fact, you can go to hell. I’m getting my woman.”

He took a step toward Owen, but Kit caught his collar. Max pivoted and threw a punch, which Kit just barely dodged. Before either of them could regroup, Kelan, Greer, and Blade moved them out of the tent, heading straight for the patio entrance to the den. Owen was only a step behind them. Max pulled free of their hold and turned in time to see Owen dismiss the other three.
 

“What did you say to her?” he asked Owen.

“I asked her to give you some space to complete the work you needed to do.”

“I want her to come here. I want her safe while I wrap things up.”

Owen shook his head. “She’s not coming here.”

Max stalked across the carpet toward Owen. Kit moved in closer, too. Max shook his head as he stared into Owen’s pale blue eyes. He’d once thought the guy had saved his life. He’d worshipped him, devoted his life to the Red Team and the work they did as he tried to honor the second chance they’d given him.
 

“None of it was real, was it? Not the hack that landed me in jail, not my sentence. The Red Team played fucking God with my life. They set me up.” For a second, he looked miles into Owen’s pale eyes and saw the shadows that lived there. He did not want to feel sympathy for the bastard.
 

“I wasn’t part of that selection committee,” Owen said. “I was brand new on the team at the time. The team was itself brand new.”

“You only got me out of Callum because in isolation I was useless to you.”

“We got you out because you were too valuable to leave you where you were.”

“I’m just a fucking pawn in your game.”

“It’s not my game, Max. We’re all stuck in it. It’s why I formed Tremaine Industries. I saw we were standing in the middle of chess board, and the only way to get off is to play.”

Max shook his head. Neck deep in his own hell, he needed outright confirmation. “The team threw me in jail with the WKB and Mexican, Columbian, and Afghan drug lords. I was eighteen years old. Jesus, Owen. What kind of a racket is that?”

Owen’s eyes were like ice on fire. His nostrils flared as his face hardened. “I watched the tapes of you at Callum. I’ve never seen such strength as you have. No one could put you down. You rose to the top ranks of the WKB in only months. Inside of a year, you were liaising between the WKB and the resident drug lords, cutting deals and enforcing rules. When you killed the Columbian kingpin, you cemented your place in the WKB. For life.”
 

He stepped closer to Max, getting up in his face. “You’re why al Jahni’s doing business with the WKB’s western region. Rocco put the rest of the pieces together, giving us a way to infiltrate and disrupt their trade. But you made it happen. When you were in isolation, you learned patience, control. You’re like steel honed in hell. You’re goddamned right the Red Team did it on purpose. Because of their choices, I have no other weapon as fine as you. And I am not going to let a girl jeopardize that.”

“No, why would you?” Max growled. His pulse was heavy in his neck, drumming in his ears. “You didn’t let a little thing like a fucked-up family get in the way either.” Max shook his head. “I’m taking my life back. I quit. You can take your honed steel and shove it up your ass.”

He started to pull away, then realized his rage wasn’t nearly as dissipated as he’d like. His gaze fell on Blade’s desk, the one Holbrook had used as a prop when he raped Blade. All reason left Max. He kicked the desk. The fucking thing was as sturdy as a boulder. He kicked it and kicked it. It didn’t even move.

Someone took hold of him from behind, catching him around the shoulder to pull him away. Kit. Max shoved an elbow back at him, then fought in a haze as Kit and Owen pinned him up against a bookshelf. Owen had a forearm pressed against Max’s throat. They had a hard hold on his arms and locked their legs against his.
 

He snarled at them, but calmed enough to let the scream coiled inside him slip out as a hiss. Owen’s nose was bleeding. Kit’s cheek was split. He tasted blood in his own mouth. “Get off me.”

They eased up, then let him go, prepared to wrestle him back if needed. Max shoved his way between them, then stepped into the hallway and into his new life.
 

Hope locked the bathroom door, then ran the tap and pooled cold water into her palms, let it spill over her wrists.

She loved Max, loved him so much it hurt. He was strong, solid, brave—fierce, even. He’d dedicated his life to fighting men like her father. Men who raised boys in cults. Men like Hatchet who gang-raped women. So much was at stake, much more than she even knew about.
 

Owen was right; she had to set him free.
 

She turned the water off and looked at her reflection in the mirror. When had Max taken up residence inside her? He’d filled all the empty places she’d lived with for so long. Without him, she was hollow.

She dried her hands off. She couldn’t leave without saying goodbye to him. She would do that, then decide what was next. She had to leave the WKB compound. She couldn’t stay there, see him day after day, and hope to keep her distance.

Maybe she’d collect the things Max’s team had taken from her storage unit and go find a hole in a wall someplace to study them. She knew so much more now than she had when she started this journey. She could look through the papers she’d accumulated on her background, see if there was any hint of something that would help her to answer Owen’s questions about herself and why King would have connected her with Max.
 

Maybe by the time Max finished this mission, she’d have some answers for him.

She left the bathroom, intending to go back to the table and wait for Max. A movement caught her attention down the hall. Three men were walking toward her. One of them was Max. He was bleeding from the corner of his lip where his metal ring was. Next to him were Owen and Kit, both of whom sported similar injuries—Owen with a bleeding nose, Kit a split cheek.

Max looked furious, like he could tear the house apart with his bare hands. This was because of her. She knew it. She covered her mouth, then choked on a sob. Tears flooded her eyes. She took a step backward, and another, and another. She spun around and ran for the front door, barely aware of someone opening it for her.
 

Her truck was not out front. There’d been a valet who’d parked it for her, she remembered.
 

“Hope—” she heard Max’s rumbling roar from inside the house.
 

She turned from him again and ran down the path to the garage. He was close on her heels.
 

“Don’t do this, Hope. Don’t go.”
 

She hurried through the open garage door. The valet must have seen her coming, for he had her keys in his hand. He asked if she wanted him to bring the truck around. She grabbed the keys from him without answering. She looked around wildly, uncertain where they’d parked her truck. There was additional parking behind the garage, too. But her truck had been backed into one of the bays in the garage, probably to keep curious eyes from spotting it.
 

Max caught her arm, spinning her around to face him. “Don’t go. You don’t have to do this.”

She lifted her hand to touch the side of his face where his lip was still shiny with blood. “I do.”
 

God, she loved him.
 

She ducked her head and stepped around him. He didn’t challenge her as she got into her truck. She shoved the key in the ignition. She wiped her eyes. Max now stood in front of her, blocking her from pulling out of the garage. She pulled forward, thinking he would step aside. He didn’t, just kept standing there, glaring at her, daring her to leave.
 

She put the truck in reverse and backed up a short way, thinking she could steer around him, until two of his friends came out and stood with him. Val and Greer. They crossed their arms and stared her down.
 

 
She wondered—if she called their bluff, would they get out of the way? With the gear shift in neutral, she gunned the accelerator. Not one of them so much as blinked. She put the truck in gear and rolled forward. Max snapped a command at them. The three of them pulled back, out of her way.

She drove out of the garage and down the drive to the street, knowing she left her heart behind with Max.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Greer looked at Val and Max. He didn’t crack a joke because he’d never seen Max look like he did at that moment. “Go change, gear up, and go after her,” Greer urged.

Max shook his head and looked like he wanted to hit something. The skin was tight on his face. “I’m going to fucking kill Owen.”