Chapter Fifteen
Jackson wasn’t shocked. Not really. Warren had been on the suspect list since the start, and hearing his name from Mick didn’t change that. What bothered him was how easily it came out of the kid’s mouth. Too easy.
He glanced at Avery. The accusation hadn’t surprised her either. Her expression was hard, controlled, but he saw the muscle ticking in her jaw. She’d already been bracing for it.
Still, something about Mick’s timing didn’t sit right. Maybe he was protecting someone else, his mother, Darian, or even himself. Jackson didn’t buy that this was the whole truth.
Mick slumped against the floor of the van. He was breathing hard, blood drying on his face. “You have to believe me,” he said. “Warren kidnapped me and the other two hostages.”
Jackson had a mental debate about how to handle this. A short debate since waiting around could get them killed.
“You’ll get a chance to explain everything, but not here,” Jackson told Mick, and then he looked at Isla. “Start moving. We’re sitting ducks if we stay in one spot.”
She nodded and threw the van into gear. The engine rumbled as they started back down the road, every bump and rattle setting Jackson’s nerves on edge.
Mick would need to be interrogated somewhere safe, somewhere locked down. Right now, the open road made them a perfect target.
He checked his weapon and scanned the tree line outside. They were still being hunted. He could feel it.
Jackson shoved a pile of gear out of the way and guided Mick down onto the floor between the two front seats. The kid groaned, clutching his side with his still-tied hands. He was pale and shaking, barely holding it together.
“Stay down,” Jackson ordered, bracing one hand against the seat as Isla took another hard turn. “You need a medic.” He switched to the comm. “Noah, we’ve got Mick Barker with us. He’s hurt. Could you arrange for a hospital intake in Crossfire Creek?”
Mick lifted his head, voice ragged. “No. I can’t go there. Warren will find me. The Brotherhood will find me.”
Jackson gave him a look that said don’t argue. “You need treatment.” Just in case his injuries were serious. It was hard to tell because of all the blood and bruises.
“I’ll have security waiting at the hospital when you get there,” Noah assured him. “The staff will be vetted. He’ll be protected.”
“Copy that,” Jackson replied. “We’re en route.”
Mick tried to push himself up, panic flashing in his eyes. “You don’t understand. They’ll kill anyone who helps me.”
Jackson pressed a hand to his shoulder and forced him back down. “Then they’ll have to go through us first.”
He met Avery’s gaze in the mirror. Her face was tight, pale, but there was plenty of concern in her eyes. They all knew what was at stake. Getting Mick to that hospital might save his life or blow this war wide open.
Jackson kept his eyes on the road ahead, the rain still spitting against the windshield as Isla drove. He pressed a finger to the comm in his ear. “Noah, I’m sorry we didn’t get Riley and Megan out. We’ll keep pushing until we do.”
There was a short pause before Noah answered. “I know you will. We’re not giving up on them.”
Jackson could hear the strain in his boss’s voice, a tight edge that wasn’t usually there. The sound made his chest tighten. Noah wasn’t just thinking like an ops commander. He was thinking like an uncle.
“Any new communication from the kidnapper?” Jackson asked.
“No,” Noah said. “Nothing since the last contact. We’re monitoring every channel, but so far it’s silent.”
Jackson swore under his breath. “What about Warren, Charlotte, and Darian? Where are they now?”
“They never showed for questioning,” Noah replied. “All three got delays through their lawyers. Some last-minute filing stunt.”
Jackson’s gut clenched. “So they bought themselves time.”
“Yeah,” Noah said grimly. “And I don’t like what they’re doing with it.”
Neither did Jackson. Every minute those three were free was another chance for them to regroup, to set up another trap.
He looked down at Mick, still slumped on the floor between the seats, and then at Avery. She met his eyes, and he could tell she was thinking the same thing he was.
This wasn’t over. Not even close.
Hell. Jackson needed eyes on all three of them—Warren, Charlotte, and Darian—but he knew that Noah would have teams on this. Operatives searching for all three. So would Sheriff Chase. She would no doubt have deputies combing the area.
Maybe it would be enough to find them.
But info could maybe help pin down their locations, too. So, Jackson turned back to Mick.
“Why would Warren take the hostages?” Jackson demanded.
Mick hesitated, eyes flicking toward Avery before he answered. “Because of her.”
Avery stiffened, confusion flashing across her face. “Me?”
Mick nodded weakly. “He was in love with you. You said no, and it broke something in him. He’s not just angry. He feels humiliated. That kind of man doesn’t take rejection well.”
Avery’s expression went tight, and Jackson could see the pulse jumping in her throat.
She didn’t deny that possibility, which told him enough.
Added to that, Jackson had seen that “unrequited love” shit from Warren himself.
From the way Warren had looked at her. There had been a hell of a lot of twisted anger and emotions simmering beneath the surface.
Maybe those emotions had bubbled up enough to spill over.
Mick swallowed hard. “He wanted to control Avery, to prove he still mattered to her. When she wouldn’t give him that, he started blaming her for everything that went wrong in his life.”
Jackson studied him, trying to read if there was any lie in what he was saying. But it fit. A bruised ego, mixed with greed and obsession, could twist a man fast.
Still, Jackson wasn’t sure he bought it. The story made sense on the surface, but too many things didn’t line up. He looked at Avery. “You believe that?”
She shook her head slowly. “I knew Warren was hurt when I turned him down, but I didn’t think he’d go this far.” Her voice was quiet, but there was a tremor in it. “Maybe he did sell me out to the Brotherhood for money or payback, but taking hostages? That doesn’t fit.”
Mick drew a shaky breath, wincing as he shifted against the seat. “It fits if you know who he’s been talking to.”
“Who?” Jackson demanded.
“My father,” Mick said. “Warren’s been visiting him in prison. They’ve gotten close. Too fucking close,” he spat out.
“Warren visits a lot of prisoners for the podcast,” Avery pointed out.
Mick shook his head. “That’s not it. He wasn’t researching anything. He was planning. Haver used him. They talked about you, Avery. About what you did to him. My father saw a way to hurt you from the inside out, and Warren gave him exactly what he needed.”
Jackson felt a cold weight settle in his gut. “You’re saying Haver Barker’s running this from prison?”
Mick met his eyes. “He never stopped.”
The van went quiet except for the hum of the tires on wet asphalt. Avery turned toward the window, her reflection pale in the glass. Jackson knew what she was thinking. If Mick was right, this wasn’t just revenge.
It was a war Haver had started years ago, and Avery was still the main target.
Jackson kept his eyes on Mick, studying him in the dim light of the van. Every word coming out of Mick’s mouth could be the truth. Or another layer of lies. Avery looked skeptical, too, her brows drawn tight, but Jackson knew they couldn’t afford to dismiss what Mick was saying. Not yet.
Still, something didn’t sit right.
“Say you’re telling the truth,” Jackson said slowly. “Say Warren really did sell Avery out to your father. That still doesn’t explain the hostages.”
Mick lifted his head, pain etched deep into his face. “It was leverage. Warren wants her, and my father wants her dead. Taking hostages made both goals possible.”
Jackson didn’t respond right away. The theory made sense, but it also felt too easy. Too clean.
He glanced at Avery. “There’s another angle we need to consider.”
Her gaze met his, wary. “You think Mick’s lying.”
Jackson nodded. “Could be. Warren might have sold you out, sure. But taking the hostages could be about more than leverage. It could be about control. If someone inside the Brotherhood wants power, this is how they’d get it.”
Mick frowned. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying maybe this isn’t Haver or Warren pulling the strings,” Jackson said evenly. “Maybe it’s you.”
Mick’s eyes went wide. “You think I’m the one behind this?”
Jackson held his stare. “You could be. You’ve said you hate the Brotherhood for what they did to Melissa, but that could be an act. Maybe you’re not trying to destroy them.
“Maybe you’re leading them, Mick,” Avery added, the anger in her voice.
For several tense seconds, the van was silent except for the low rumble of the road.
“You’ve got it wrong,” Mick finally whispered.
“Maybe,” Jackson said. “But until we prove it, you stay in protective custody.”
Because in his experience, the ones who swore they’d turned their backs on the darkness were often the ones still feeding it.
The van rolled to a stop in front of Crossfire Creek Hospital, tires splashing through the rainwater that had accumulated on the road.
The small-town facility looked calm from the outside, but Jackson knew Noah had already turned it into a fortress.
Security men were stationed near every door, their weapons discreet but ready.
Sheriff Arden Chase and Noah were waiting just outside the entrance. Her badge glinted under the overcast sky, her stance sharp and no-nonsense. She didn’t waste time.
“I want to question him,” she said, nodding toward Mick.
Jackson stepped aside as the security team helped Mick out of the van. Mick looked half-dead, but his eyes still darted around, taking everything in. The sheriff fell in beside him, already firing off questions as they headed into the hospital.
That left Noah, Jackson, Avery, Isla, Cal, and Garrett standing by the van. The tension hadn’t eased a bit.
“We’re still scanning the area near the rest stop,” Noah explained. “No sign of Megan or Riley yet. I’ve got a forensic team retracing Mick’s steps from where you picked him up.”
“You think he actually escaped?” Cal asked. “Or are we dealing with pure bullshit here when it comes to Mick’s story?”
“It’s possible,” Noah said. “If he was a hostage, he might have left a trail we can follow to find the others. And if he’s the one behind this, that trail might lead us straight to his setup. Either way, we’ll get answers.”
Jackson hoped Noah was right. But as the clouds rolled lower over the horizon, he couldn’t shake the feeling that whatever trail Mick Barker had left was going to lead them somewhere darker than any of them expected.
Shit. He hoped Megan and Riley weren’t already dead.
The thought twisted at him. Sickened him. But it wasn’t a thought he could dismiss.
Jackson leaned against the van, arms crossed, watching the hospital doors.
The rain had slowed to a drizzle, a thin mist that clung to his jacket and the brim of his ball cap.
Inside, he could see the movement of uniforms through the glass.
The sheriff and her deputies were escorting Mick down the corridor toward an exam room.
Avery stood beside him, silent, her gaze locked on the doors. Jackson could see the tension in her shoulders, the exhaustion that came from holding herself together for too long.
“Garrett and I can check the perimeter of the hospital,” Cal offered, and Noah nodded.
After they stepped away, minutes stretched. The drizzle thickened into steady rain again.
Then the hospital doors opened.
Sheriff Chase stepped out, her hat pulled low, her jaw tight. Jackson knew that look. He’d seen it too many times before. Bad news. The kind that always came fast and hit hard.
She started toward them, rain streaking down her coat. “My deputies just radioed in,” she said, her voice flat. “They found a body.”