Chapter 23
Brody
I wake with my mouth drier than desert sand and my leg aching like a bitch. My head pounds, thumping a terrible drum beat behind my eyes.
What the hell happened?
The last thing I remember is Trinity staring at me like I’m a monster.
My pulse leaps, followed by a corresponding beep.
Trinity.
When my eyelids open, I’m greeted by fluorescent hospital lighting. White ceiling, stucco yellow walls, a closed door, and a counter covered in various supplies appear on my right. On my left, a large tinted window overlooking the California desert, and—
Trinity Gallagher sits in a standard hospital chair, with my gun hidden beneath a sweatshirt on her lap. The exposed tip of the barrel points at me.
For a second, I wonder if I’m dreaming, but the tang of clinical-grade disinfectant stings my nose, assuring me that I’m awake. Maybe I’m hopped up on industrial-strength pain meds and hallucinating, though.
No way is Trinity here watching me, wearing that borrowed white t-shirt, with her hair pulled back in a messy ponytail.
I blink at the apparition. “You’re not really here. They must have me on the good drugs.”
The apparition expels a noisy sigh. “Trust me, you’re not the only one having a tough time believing that I’m here.” The words come out ragged, like her throat’s made of sandpaper.
I slow-blink at her again. She watches me, her fingers wrapped around the grip of that gun.
I lick my dry lips. “This is a really weird dream.”
“Not a dream.” Trinity crosses her legs. “Andrei and his boys attacked this morning. We got away, but you pulled over on the side of the highway and collapsed.”
Memories crash through my brain like a freight train.
This morning. The ambush. Andrei.
Fighting with Trinity on the side of the road.
That’s the last thing I remember before—
I try to sit up and immediately regret my choice, groaning as nausea swirls in my gut.
“Wouldn’t do that if I were you. You’re on a lot of meds and lost a lot of blood.”
Fuck. I collapse against the stiff pillow with a groan.
I need to locate my phone and contact my father. If he reached the safe house after we left, then he probably believes us killed or captured.
“How badly was I hurt?”
The question is more for me than to her, but she exhales as if wrestling with the words.
“Bad enough. You almost bled out in the desert.”
My eyes tick up to hers, and something incredulous swells inside me. Is Trinity Gallagher trying to say that she helped me? “How am I alive, then?”
She averts her gaze and gives a single-shoulder shrug. “Guess hell wasn’t ready for you quite yet.”
“How’d we get here?” I push, hoping to see her expression break.
Why does the idea of Trinity caring about me spark such a victorious fire in my sore, battered body?
She shifts her weight in the chair. “How do we get anywhere, really?”
“You rescued me, didn’t you?” When she doesn’t respond, I prod her. “Trinity?”
Scowling, she raises her eyes to mine. Her chin thrusts out at a belligerent angle. “I treated the wound on your thigh and called 911.”
After the initial shock of her statement dissipates, I start to smile. “Wow. Gotta admit I’m a little surprised. With my injuries incapacitating me, you could’ve just left me for dead—”
“Oh, I did that too.”
My jovial mood evaporates as her countenance becomes unrecognizable.
This Trinity is new. I’ve seen the psych major, the attempted seductress, the scared girl.
This version is someone else entirely.
This Trinity is still aiming the gun at my chest.
I shift my body, my aching muscles tensing. “What’s going on here?”
“So glad you asked.” I hate how Trinity smiles, mirthless and unimpressed.
“You’re seriously injured and obviously still high on pain meds, so I’ll try to use small words.
You’ve got a jacked-up leg and lost a lot of blood.
You’re trapped in that bed for at least a few more hours.
So you’re in no position to hold me captive. ”
Her explanation slices through my medication-clouded brain like a sword. “Okay. And?” I wait for the other shoe to drop.
She tilts her head to one side. “I called Finn and told him where I am and what’s happened.”
My chest seizes, and my brain struggles through the drug-induced fog.
Shit, shit, shit.
How long have I been out? Are the Irish Kings already on their way? Is Kellin? If Finn gets his hands on me, he’ll rip me from limb to limb.
“He knows everything.” Trinity sounds oddly flat. “But that’s not the worst of your problems.”
“No?” I can’t wait to hear the rest.
She reclines farther back in her seat. “I hold all the cards now. Understand?” She motions to the door with my gun.
“I can walk out of this hospital room and leave you here to watch my ass as I go. Or let the Russians find you so they can finish the job. Either way, your mission to hand me over to Declan is done.”
I clench both my fists in the sheet, rage piercing through the haze in my mind.
After all the hell I’ve caught the past few days, I’m about to lose everything because I took some damage in a fight?
In a fight I won, no less?
That’s like acing a test and forgetting to write your name at the top. No credit. Sorry about your bad luck.
Hell, Declan doesn’t even give me any kudos when I execute orders perfectly. He’ll go postal over a half-cocked fuck-up like this. I’ll be lucky if he doesn’t blow my brains out on sight.
“Based on everything you’ve told me, if this mission fails, it’s bye-bye, Brody.” Trinity utters my thoughts aloud. “In other words, if I leave you empty-handed right now, you’re as good as dead. Do I have that right?”
Muscles pulse in my jaw. Her condescension tantalizes me in ways I can’t act on. Not all laid up like this. If I weren’t in this hospital bed, I’d twist my fingers in her hair, yank her down to her knees, and ram my cock between those luscious, irritating lips—
I jerk myself free of the fantasy. “Get to the point. What do you want?”
“It’s not about what I want. It’s about what you want. If you hope to survive this clusterfuck, you’d better start talking.”
Despite my precarious situation, her command shoots straight to my dick. “About what?”
“How about Declan?” Trinity’s eyebrows rise. “Why did he order you to kidnap me?”
When I scoff, she cocks the gun, unamused.
I huff. “Did you really think Declan was going to take your brother’s disrespect lying down?”
“Right. Installing Kellin at the Cypress. How horrible.” She rolls her eyes. “Why did you accept the assignment?”
My mouth drops open. I expected her to pump me for Declan-specific information, so why’s that her next inquiry? “What do you mean, why?”
“You heard me.”
“I don’t question the orders I’m given.”
“No one ever taught you to think for yourself?”
The query sears me deep in my chest, burning through scar tissue I wasn’t even aware of until now. When I recognize the kernel of truth in her words, I flinch.
I’m torn between defending myself and wanting to defend my father. Why?
I swallow around my dry throat. “Declan—”
“Tell me why you follow his every order without question.”
Why does she keep harping on this? “Does it matter?”
“Yeah, it does to me. I want answers. After all the crap you put me through, you owe me that much.”
This fucking woman. I shove out a ragged breath. “He’s my father.” The answer comes out on the back of a growl. “Satisfied?”
“Oh my god.” She opens her mouth and then snaps it shut, as if she’s doing the math. Then the color drains from her face. “That means we’re—”
“Not related, if that’s what you’re thinking.” I shift to find a more comfortable position and grimace when I attempt to move my left leg. “I’m not his biological son.”
The words are just as ugly hanging in the air between us as they are in the dark recesses of my mind.
Trinity stands there speechless, though I can practically see the wheels turning in her head.
“My mother had an affair, and he’s always held a grudge.
He’s never treated me the same way he does Connor.
” I grip the bedrail while my throat tightens.
“I’ve worked my ass off to gain his approval, but no matter how good I am at my job, it’s never enough.
In one of our recent conversations, he half-joked that he would shoot me if I screwed up this mission.
Knowing him, I wouldn’t be surprised if he really does plan to kill me if I fail. I am the spare son, after all.”