Resurrection River: Men of Mercy, Book 2 Read online

  Amy kept her voice calm and eased forward. “Listen, I know this past year I’ve been distant, dealing with my own stuff. But really, you can talk to me. I know I’m old to you, but I do remember how much it hurts when you’re dealing with a break up.”

  “Oh… I…yes. You’re right. But I’m not ready to talk about it yet. I’m so stupid and clumsy right now. I’ll buy you a new frame. A better one.”

  Amy tried to grab Hayden’s hand, but she took another step back. “I’ll get the broom, clean this mess up and load up your bags. You go outside with your daughter.”

  Everything Hayden said made sense, but the panic in her gaze didn’t mesh. Amy wanted to push, to get the girl to open up, but right now was not the time. She promised herself she would talk to her later, after she and Chloe settled in at Evie’s new place. And as soon as Amy found out what boy was responsible for the awful heartache on Hayden’s face, she would rain down punishment he’d never forget. “Tell you what, I’ll get the broom. You get the bags.”

  18

  Chapter 18

  The truck door didn’t slam hard enough behind Ranger as he disembarked from the jacked-up four-by-four. Dust swirled around him from the daredevil brake job he’d pulled, congealing on the sweat beading his brow. But he didn’t bother wiping the grime off his face. Why should he?

  Amy wasn’t here to see it, and by her own words, she wouldn’t want to see him any time soon. Or ever.

  Ranger slapped his palm on the scanner at the door of the war room, a huge metal pole barn on his father’s property that Team Scorpion had commandeered last summer. What looked like an innocent metal door slid to the right, the hydraulics hissing as it opened and slid shut behind him.

  Fucking empty. Perfect. Just like his life.

  Before their last mission together, Shane had made Ranger promise to look after Amy if he died. And Ranger had agreed, wholeheartedly, even knowing he’d once been attracted to her. But he’d been so sure his training and years of separation from Amy would ensure he could carry out that mission without a snag. He hadn’t counted on the absolute and overwhelming need. The dreams. The cravings. He was fucking addicted to her.

  And she rejected him like a Baptist rejected alcohol. Taking small sips in the dark to satisfy her craving, then tossing him in the trash the next morning.

  Ranger grabbed the nearest stack of papers, and flung them across the room. It wouldn’t hurt so bad if he hadn’t had a taste. If he didn’t know exactly what he would be missing without her.

  His training taught him to withstand the extremes. Torture. Days without food. Without water. But Amy was like air. He needed her to breathe.

  “Rearranging?”

  Ranger whipped around to see Riser, his teammate, standing with his arms crossed.

  “When the fuck did you get back from Pakistan?” Ranger tried to get his breathing under control.

  “Last night. Like the new digs.” Riser stood a couple inches shorter than Ranger, but was more muscular. His dark brown hair was long, as was his beard, but it didn’t disguise the look of amusement on his face.

  “Beats the FOB overseas.” Their forward operating base had been in the middle of bum-fucking-Egypt. Surrounded by desert, not amenities. Just sand. Sand. And Sand.

  “Yeah. Grey called us back after we wrapped up.” Riser went to the long table in the center of the room, pulled out a chair, and sat.

  Ranger ignored the steel band tightening around his gut. The unspoken words as loud as if Riser had shouted them. They’d wrapped up the search for Shane’s body and his killer. Striking out on both counts.

  “Where is everyone else?” Ranger said.

  “Right behind me, so if you don’t want to hear shit about your little hissy fit, I’d suggest you clean up.” Riser crossed his arms, not bothering to help, and leaned back in his chair.

  “Dammit.” Ranger immediately went to the scattered paper, gathered it and placed it back on the desk. The last thing he needed was ribbing and questions.

  Questions he wasn’t ready or able to answer.

  Mostly because the answer was being as fickle as a freaking teenager picking out her prom dress.

  “Want to tell me what’s up?” Riser joined their team at its inception a few years ago. He’d had Ranger’s back on multiple occasions. But no fucking way was he going to spill his emotional guts.

  “Just some shit. No biggie.” Ranger went to the small fridge at the side of the room, swiped a bottle of water and downed half, before returning to the oval table and taking a seat across from Riser.

  The door slid open and most of the rest of the team walked in. Hunter. Aaron. Merc. Ethan. Cord Carter, the newest member. Shane’s cousin and replacement.

  “The Brady Bunch, late, as usual,” Riser said.

  Hunter’s gaze cut straight to Ranger. “Where the fuck were you? I’ve been trying to get in touch with you all morning.”

  Ranger shrugged, unwilling to say anything, and rose to greet his teammates. Aaron had been almost as close to Shane as Ranger. The tall Texan spoke slow and easy, but killed fast and proficient. Ethan had come from the streets, a troubled teen who’d turned to the military for guidance. Merc. Who the fuck knew where Merc came from? The man towered over everyone. His expression always constant, always lethal. He spoke as little as possible. But he’d saved the group on more than one occasion. Cord, their newest member, was still in the beta stage and kept separate from the group, missing the easy blending of men who’d fought and nearly died together.

  Hunter shot Ranger a questioning look, but kept his mouth shut.

  Everyone took their seats, leaving two empty. “Where are the Crowe’s?”

  “Gone to the mountain.” Ethan was the smallest of the crew, but just as corded with muscle.

  The mountain. The Crowe’s home in the Tennessee hills. A place of trouble and nightmares that the brothers had barely escaped. But their parents were buried there, and every year, the two took leave for a weeklong trip to pay their respects. And every year they came back different. Dark. The memories taking their toll.

  Memories probably similar to Ranger’s own not-so-fairytale childhood.

  “Only five minutes late.” Grey appeared on the wall of monitors at the back of the room. His angular face even more sharp. His steel grey eyes deadly calm.

  “Had to wait on some cow’s to cross the road.” Hunter said.

  “I’m glad you felt at liberty to take your time. At least someone does.” Grey’s scathing reply was met with silence. “While you were pissing off, the Lobellos were busy.”

  The Captain didn’t waste time. The bottom screens transformed into satellite images of the Lobello compound twenty miles away. “The first are pictures we took last week. As you can see the place is pretty empty.”

  The grainy image showed mostly buildings with a few guards along the compound’s wall. “The next is from yesterday, the final from this morning.”

  The team sat forward in their chairs studying the images. They may joke and rib each other, but each of them took their missions serious. They knew lack of intel could mean their deaths. Or their teammate’s death.

  “I sent Cord in last night to get some intel up close,” Grey said. Everyone turned to Cord Carter, their gazes assessing.

  “I set up right outside the compound, in an abandoned warehouse. The trucks arrived around midnight. Three of them. Big rigs capable of carrying anything from kidnap victims to weapons or both. I never got eyes on the contents. But I did see the drivers, and from the way they moved, they weren’t amateurs. And they definitely weren’t Lobello,” Cord said.

  “My people are running their pictures through our database to get names and backgrounds. We should have that intel within the hour.” Grey nodded for Cord to continue.

  “A few minutes later, a black Land Rover pulled in. The passenger kept his head down and covered with a hat so I couldn’t get a clear shot of his features. Pull it up.”

  Grey turned to someone
off screen and a new image popped up on the far right. The man was in a grey suit, small in stature. His features completely obscured. “We didn’t get a positive ID, but the size and clothing match up perfectly with Lee Brown.”

  Hunter stood so fast his chair rolled back six feet. Ranger grabbed his brother’s forearm to restrain him, but Hunter shook it off. Brown had nearly killed Hunter’s wife, Evie. Ranger could imagine the killing rage his brother must feel and had every intention of making sure Hunter got his revenge.

  But more importantly, he’d made off with the weapons before the team could get to it.

  “Where is he now?” Hunter’s commanding tone boomed across the metal building. He leaned forward and planted his fists on the table.

  “Sit down Chief. I understand your anger, but you need to hear the rest.” Grey stared Hunter down, his deadly gaze glued to Hunter until he finally resumed his seat. “While Carter was pulling recon he saw something even more interesting.”

  Cord started again, “After the man went inside, I saw someone trying to climb over the compound’s wall. Only he wasn’t trying to get in, he was trying to escape. I went to investigate and caught one of the Lobello’s prisoners.” Cord got up and exited the building, only to return a minute later with a small boy.

  The boy had a large blindfold on, obscuring a lot of his face, but he had dark skin, dark hair and was as scrawny as a bean pole. He looked to be about six or seven. Mexican for sure.

  Ranger froze. This boy was all legs and arms and clumsy. Just like another young boy he’d recently been around. Shit.

  Cord pushed the boy into a chair at the table and worked on the knot at the back of the blindfold. Ranger held his breath. No fucking way could it be Pedro’s boy.

  When Cord finally got the blindfold off, Ranger’s heart plummeted. Arturo sat directly across from him, his eyes red and watery, his gaze frightened. “What the fuck is the meaning of this?”

  Ranger shot to his feet and strode around the table. Anger fueled his movements, his fists clenched. When he stood next to Artie, he spun the boy’s chair around to face him. Artie cringed and held up his hands, shielding his face, but not before Ranger saw the large purple bruise on the boy’s right eye.

  Rage ramped up inside him and Ranger spun around, his vision tunneling on Cord. “You’re going to pay for that.”

  Maybe Ranger still had some residual anger from this morning, and maybe that clouded his judgment, but it didn’t stop him from diving for Cord and wrapping his hands around the man’s neck. Cord pushed back, dropped his chin, grabbed Ranger’s arm and spun around. He used the momentum to throw Ranger to the ground. Cord followed him down, slamming his forearm into Ranger’s windpipe. “Stop. I know you don’t know me that well, but I do not hurt kids. Ever.”

  Cord punctuated each word and held Ranger to the floor. Ranger stared into the man’s eyes, trying to get a read if he was telling the truth. He saw nothing but straight forward honesty and determination. And the exact same shade of green as Shane’s eyes.

  “I’m going to let you up. But know I’m more than capable of defending myself if you attack.” Cord pushed off and stood.

  Ranger shot to his feet, his fists balled. His chest expanding and contracting with the force of a five hundred pound compressor. Cord didn’t back away, but stood ready.

  Men with something to hide didn’t stand tall. Cord told the truth. Ranger forced his fingers to uncurl, one at a time. “Sorry. I have a problem with grown men hitting kids.”

  Everyone in the room was standing by now, the tension thick as the August humidity. They were all ready to launch in for the attack. Pulled tight like a bomb.

  Cord was the one who diffused it. He smiled then and nodded at Ranger. “I feel the same way.”

  Ranger took the offering of peace and turned back to Artie, who cowered in a ball in the chair. His knees pulled up to his chest, his arms wrapped around his legs, holding on tight.

  Ranger sighed and dropped into a squat right in front of Artie. “I’m sorry, little man. I didn’t mean to scare you like that. I thought he had hurt you.”

  Artie gave a cry and launched from the chair, wrapping his arms and legs around Ranger, nearly knocking them both to the floor. Thanks to his quick reflexes, Ranger caught the boy and grabbed onto the table to keep from toppling backwards. Artie’s body shook with sobs.

  Ranger’s chest tightened in a vice of regret and sorrow and fury. Fucking Santos must have hit Pedro’s house before trying to break into Amy’s. Ranger eased into the newly vacated chair and held onto the young boy, rubbing soothing circles on his back. The gesture felt awkward, but he’d seen Amy comfort Chloe that way.

  “You know this boy?” Grey spoke from the wall of monitors.

  Ranger spun around to face his commander, but held tight to Artie. “Yes, his father works for Amy Carter. Shane’s widow.”

  The room fell silent except for Artie, who’d only started to cry harder.

  “Good. Maybe you can get him to talk. I tried but he refused to speak.” Cord said.

  “Ranger, I need to know what that boy knows.” Grey’s face might as well be carved from granite. His high-and-tight grey hair was just as stiff as his expression.

  Ranger nodded, knowing someone had to question the boy, and it would be better if it were someone he knew. “Give me a minute to calm him down. I’ll call back as soon as I get some intel.”

  Grey nodded and the monitor went black. Ranger turned to his brother. “Get me some water and something to clean up his face.”

  After Hunter left to gather the supplies, Ranger looked to the rest of the team. “Ya’ll take thirty, give the boy some space. I’ll bring you back in ASAP.”

  Everyone gave their agreement and left, the door sliding shut behind them. Hunter returned right after with a fresh bottle of water, a wet washcloth and a first aid kit, and a Hershey’s chocolate bar.

  Ranger reached back and peeled Artie’s fingers from his shoulders, forcing the boy to release his death grip. When Ranger saw the dark bruise on Artie’s face up close, he clenched his teeth, reining in the fury. After Ranger’s own abusive past, the sight of another injured child made him boil.

  Artie fought to grab onto Ranger again, but the boy was too weak. “I need to clean you up, little man.” Ranger knew his voice was gruff, but didn’t care.

  Hunter had the exact same expression of explosive rage.

  Artie still cried and shook, but not as hard as a few minutes ago. Ranger took the washcloth and gently wiped the boy’s face, flinching when Artie flinched.

  He felt big and clumsy with the child. Once he finished wiping all the dirt off, Ranger inspected Artie for more wounds. Aside from a few more bruises on his arms and some skinned knees, the boy seemed healthy.

  Hunter opened the candy bar and extended it forward, crouching down a safe distance away. Artie wiped his eyes and tentatively took the bar, diving back against Ranger’s chest as soon as Hunter let go.

  Hunter met Ranger’s gaze over the boy’s head, his black eyes communicating silently. Grey wouldn’t give them all day to question the boy. They needed the intel now, before the Lobellos moved whatever was in those trucks.

  Ranger cleared his throat, his mouth feeling dry, his jaw tight. The last thing he wanted to do was upset him when he’d already been through so much, but if he’d seen anything inside the compound that could aid their team, Ranger needed to know. “Artie, you like the chocolate bar?”

  Artie didn’t speak, but nodded against Ranger’s chest and his body relaxed a little.

  “You want some water?”

  Again, no words, but another nod. Hunter uncapped the bottle and handed it to him, waiting on Artie to finish before setting the bottle back on the table.

  “Cord was the man who rescued you. He said you were so brave climbing over that wall all by yourself.” Ranger searched his mind for a way to ease into the questions, without upsetting him all over again. Artie’s sobs had turned into quiet sniffle
s and an occasional hiccup.

  “He said he’d never seen anyone climb a wall that fast. You must be really strong to do that. And you must have been really strong to have gotten away from those men.”

  Artie stiffened immediately, but Ranger kept rubbing small circles on the boy’s back, trying to keep him calm. “I need you to be strong for me right now and answer a few questions. My team and I, we’re trying to get the bad men and lock them up so they can never hurt anyone again. But we need your help. You saw the inside of their compound. Maybe you saw something that could help us.”

  Artie kept his head down and handed the half-eaten candy bar back to Hunter. Ranger stiffened, afraid he’d asked too much too soon. But then Artie sat up straighter and faced the brothers, Ranger still siting holding him in his lap, Hunter crouched right beside them.

  “The man, Santos, he-he came to my house. He fought with Papa and took me away. I tried to fight him. I tried to stay with Papa, but he was too strong.”

  “So he took you but left your papa at home?” Ranger asked.

  “Si. He hit him and Papa didn’t get back up.” Artie’s voice cracked, a sob escaped. Ranger tightened his arms around the boy and tilted his head to Hunter. His brother stood and walked outside. Ranger wished with all his might Pedro was simply unconscious, but he hadn’t alerted the authorities and it had been over twenty four hours. The most likely scenario was gloomy, but they would confirm and hope for the best. Even if the Lobellos weren’t known for leaving witnesses.

  “I’m sending my brother to check on your dad right now. He will take care of your dad.”

  Artie nodded and stayed against Ranger’s chest. “Artie, I need to know what you saw at their compound. Where did they keep you?”

  “Santos throw me in the trunk. When we stop, we already inside. There were big buildings. He took me to the last one. He hit me and threatened me. Then he throw me inside and locked the door. There were a whole lot of kids there, like me. Mexican. And there were white kids, too. All of them were quiet. They were scared.”

  Artie took a shuddering breath and Ranger squeezed him tight. “Keep going. You’re doing so good.”