Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
An hour later - Karma, Vandemora
DonAzule Agave Farm
Truck is never more than two inches from me. Glued to me, even though he’s exhausted, the weariness is clear in his angular face. It’s like the stress has aged him within hours.
The same hollow look that I have. The mirror wasn’t a friend to me when I stopped in the bathroom to wash Truck’s blood off my face.
The concern for me is evident in the low, careful tone he uses with me. “Are you doing okay?”
I wrap my fingers around the steaming mug he presses into my hands—he made it without a word, like he knew what I needed before I did.
The heat seeps into my palms, grounding me, while the rest of me feels like it might come apart at the seams.
“I’m running on fumes.” The words barely make it past the tightness in my throat.
His hand trails down my arm, slow and deliberate, until his fingers find mine and curl around them. Warm. Solid.
I nearly exhale a sigh I didn’t know I was holding.
We held hands on the boat—his grip steady as I drifted off—but this feels different.
He’s here, now, in the light of day, with his teammates coming, and still... he chooses this. Me.
A fragile heat unfurls in my chest, tender and unfamiliar.
I’ve never had anyone to lean on, not really.
The scrape of the chair cuts through the moment as he pulls it closer and drops into the seat beside me.
“Ally, we can do this later.”
I study his handsome face, searching his stormy blue gaze, taking my time to look at the flecks of green and gray. “No. It’s time to talk to your team.”
His brows knot, but he leans back in the chair without arguing. About this at least, but Truck’s refused to take care of himself.
The wounds all over his arms are angry. Still tinged with blood and ringed with mottled skin.
As my emotions well up, I shake my head. “You look like hell. I don’t know everything that happened to you after you pushed me away in the river, but there are hundreds of cuts on you.”
The bloodied cuts slash this way and that on his arms, his face, the backs of his hands.
“Shouldn’t you see a doctor?”
“He should.” A man walks into the room, his stern gaze going to our joined hands. “He just got out of the hospital for a serious infection.”
My eyes zip to Truck’s, worry tripling the rate of my pulse and making my stomach sink. “You didn’t tell me anything about that!”
He gives a tight shake of his head. “It was irrelevant.”
“Irrelevant, my ass. How’s your leg?” the man asks.
“Fine, the wound is totally healed, and the limp is almost gone now.” Truck shifts, folding my hand tighter inside his. “Ally, this is Beast, our team lead.”
He’s vaguely familiar from the day I went to talk to them at the cave. “I’m Allison, nice to meet you.”
A manilla file flops onto the table.
He studies me for a second, dark, intelligent gaze sliding over my features as I look between him and the file.
“I know who you are. Glad you’re safe. Just so you know, I have not reported anything to your father.”
I exhale my relief as my fingers flex on the coffee mug. “Thank you. I’m actually wondering if he’s my father at all after what those men said.”
Truck leans forward, his face turning harder. “What are you talking about?”
“One of the attackers said I’m not the man’s daughter, but that was before you arrived.”
When tears start to brim my lashes, Truck groans in frustration.
He casts an angry glance at the man he called Beast. “I told her we don’t have to talk about this now. She’s been through hell.”
“I understand, but the sooner, the better.” Beast opens the folder, his expression unreadable. “I’d like to know who the men are that we have locked up, and overall what we’re dealing with here.”
That’s the question of a lifetime for me. Years of pain and uncertainty could be unraveled by what we find.
My whole life feels like one giant lie.
When I sip the green tea, the mug shakes against my lip, but I force the warm liquid down. It’s critical that I rebuild my strength for whatever’s coming.
“Let’s get on with this.” I straighten in my chair. “The one in the blue shirt is Thomas. He works for my father.”
Beast makes a note on the inside of the folder then turns to a page containing an image of Thomas’s passport. Then he looks at me again. “What does he do for your father?”
“Dirty work, I guess. It was always a mystery.” I quickly reply. “Things they don’t talk about to anyone. I figured my father would send him for me. But I thought he’d just walk up and ask me to go back. Nothing like what happened. And never in all of my years would I have imagined my father would use those SWAT-looking guys.”
Sipping more tea, I moisten my ragged vocal cords before I can continue. “I’ve been hearing for weeks that a group of men were searching for me. I thought that was your company in addition to Thomas. I didn’t know he’d use mercenaries or whatever they are.”
Truck asks, “Have you seen any of those men before?”
“I’m not sure, since they were wearing masks, but I didn’t recognize their voices.”
Beast makes another note before he pulls out his phone and sends a text. “We’ll get photos for you to look at later.”
Justice strolls into the room, quickly assessing the three of us. Everything about him looks refreshed. The clothes are clean. The scent of soap with some kind of warm spice precedes him. Dark and damp, his hair is unruly.
Justice is incredibly likable. The man’s got magnetic eyes. Bright, clever, playful, cunning—all the electric emotions. Life force emanates from him like he’s glowing from the inside out.
“Allison,” he says with a polite nod. “Well, I gotta say, I’m happy as hell to be back here.”
Glancing between us, he takes a seat at the table, continuing to beam his bright grin at everyone. “Truck, did you make me some tea? I’m parched after hunting for your ass for hours.”
“Fuck off. Make it yourself,” Truck rumbles.
Justice’s eyes narrow with his laugh.
He throws a wink my way. “I love pushing his buttons. So easy to rile him up. And boy, your brother, talk about a walking grenade.”
I wait to see how all this lands. Because truthfully, I know next to nothing about Truck and even less about his brother. But from what little I do know, Justice is on the mark about Axle.
“Did your brother leave?” Justice asks.
Truck nods tightly.
When we got off the boat and were loading the vehicles, Axle disappeared.
Truck withholds further comment about his brother, but stares at Beast. “Anyone else coming?”
“Scout’s finishing up with the prisoners. He’ll be here in a second.”
The tension grows as the room falls silent.
Glancing around, I try to put together the pieces of why these people are operating out of a ranch house on an agave farm. When I can’t take the crackling tension, I finally ask, “Who owns this place?”
Justice is quick to reply as he stands up. “Evan, one of our teammates, is engaged to the girl who grew up here. It is—was—is her family farm. It’s kind of a story. Agile owns it, she runs it.”
I’m more confused than ever.
“When’s Evan coming back, by the way?” another man asks as he walks into the room. He lifts his baseball cap and reseats it on his thick hair as he pauses and looks at our clasped hands. “Well, that was fast.”
Justice laughs instantly from the kitchen where he’s getting a mug. “Pot calling kettle black.”
The other man flips him off.
“What?” Justice asks, his eyes alive with amusement. “Scout, you fell for Aria in four seconds flat, all that girl had to do was blink at you.”
The new guy kicks out a chair and drops his enormous, ripped body into it.
Where do they find these guys? They look like modern-day gladiators.
Beast snickers, surprising me.
Who knew he could make a sound like that?
“It was the taser,” he says.
“Oh, hell, not you too,” Scout mutters. “She didn’t taser me.”
Finally, Truck’s fingers ease the fierce grip on me as his body relaxes. He even joins the teasing with a chuckle. “Are you sure? I heard Beast found you out cold.”
“Fuck all of you.”
Truck leans in. “I wasn’t here, but Scout’s girl?—”
“Enough!” Scout bellows, shaking the windows in the small kitchen. “Ask Aria. She’ll settle this once and for all.”
The team leader jumps on this. “And where is your better half?”
My eyes ping-pong between the guys.
Their affection is very clear, even if the three of them couldn’t be more different.
Justice with his easy laughter. Beast with his commanding presence. And Scout with a hard edge and eyes clouded with secrets.
But those eyes quickly turn soft. “She’s coming, will be here in a bit. Allison, I thought you might like some girl time after being stuck alone with your less than friendly kidnapper over there.”
“Girl time, check, I’m in. But this needs to be cleared up, he didn’t kidnap me.”
The tension’s instantly back in Truck’s body. “Forget girl time. Or time with anyone else after this meeting. She’s mine. I’m not sharing her.”
All heads swivel toward Truck.
“I mean,” he rolls his eyes. “After this meeting, I’m taking her to bed. ”
A ring of heat erupts around my neck, and I duck behind the mug of tea.
A snicker comes from one of the other guys. Then another laughs.
And my face starts to burn.
Truck mutters, “To sleep, you assholes. We’re exhausted. You try?—”
“Playing Tarzan?” Justice drops into his seat, puts his mug of tea on the table and then hugs his stomach as he belly laughs. “That was some epic tactical work there.”
Truck wraps an arm around me and pulls me close, sloshing a little tea on my hand, but when he laughs against my temple, the only thing I can do is grin.
“I was impressed.”
Like everything he does impresses me, but the way he tore through that clearing knocking everyone flat was super-hero stuff.
My ribcage expands. And for the first time in a month, I take a full breath. The smile on my face spreads.
I’m safe. I’m… I don’t even know what I feel inside my ribs, but it’s warm and addictive.
“All right, you bunch of fools, let’s get down to business.” Beast reorganizes his file papers. “Allison, why don’t we start with why you’ve been avoiding your father.”
Ugh. Buzzkill.
I’m dreading sharing what little I know when the exterior door to the kitchen slams open.
Every man jumps to his feet, weapons fly out of holsters.
A scream thrusts out of me before I can cover my mouth.
“Get the trauma bag!” Truck lunges toward the crumpled, bleeding form on the floor, “God, Axle, what the hell happened to you?”