Chapter 24
Leonetti plunged the needle into Brooks’s arm and depressed the pump. The serum filled his veins, ice cold, followed by searing heat. He sucked in a breath. Each tendon in his body curled into a tight knot. His blood pressure galloped, sending alarm through his nervous system. A thick fog rolled over his vision. He let out a deep, guttural groan as he moved away from Leonetti and scrambled for support. His hands caught the cool, smooth metal of the medical table. His legs shook as blood surged to his muscles, turning them solid.
“Brooks! Help him, dammit!” A man’s screams echoed through Brooks’s head, the sound amplified by his elevated senses.
Brooks exhaled as the fire blazed through him then slowly ebbed away. The cloud over his sight drifted into the distance. He sucked in a mouthful of air, filling every cell in his body with oxygen. Adrenaline blasted along his nerve endings. He straightened away from the table and turned.
Leonetti’s arrogant smirk widened. “Well done, thirty-six.”
Brooks’s mind sucked him back into the past, to the shivering, helpless man he’d been under Leonetti’s care. Every encouraging word fed him like a full-course meal, reminding him that he wasn’t his own person while under Axalantheum’s power. Some twisted part of his brain thrived on taking orders, on accomplishing a task—no matter how bloody.
His body fell into sync with his new, accelerated heart rate. Every inhale came from deep in his lungs, slower and more even than his regular breathing. His mind cleared, and his every sense was on high alert, ready to attack. He turned to face Leonetti and cracked his neck to the side. The buzz of energy in his body needed release or it would consume him.
Leonetti beamed. “Now for your first task—kill the enemy.”
Brooks shifted his gaze to a man standing several feet away. A guard held a gun to his head. Familiarity struck him, but he couldn’t place a name or memory to the face.
The man’s skin turned gray. He looked from Leonetti to Brooks then shook his head. “What the—” Wetting his lips, he blinked. “Brooks. You know me.”
Brooks? Flashes of that name hit his memory bank like a solar flare. Indecision warred inside him.
“Thirty-six! Now!”
As if a whip had been cracked, all the memories his mind was trying to hold slipped away from him. He advanced on the enemy.
Crack!
A bullet whizzed through the room, and the guard holding the gun to the enemy’s head yelped as the bullet hit his throat. He went down faster than a hunted animal. Brooks located the shooter at the front of the tent. Dark hair and dark eyes met his stare.
Crack!
The second bullet took out the other guard in the tent.
“Hey!” Leonetti raised his hands, a hysterical note making his voice screech.
Brooks blinked.
“Th-Thirty-six!” Leonetti spluttered. “A-Attack!”
A sharp ringing sounded inside Brooks’s head. He grabbed his ear and winced as the sound got louder. Something wasn’t right. Confusion made his heart rate slow. He needed orders. Needed the confident, unwavering tone of the man who wielded power over him.
A firm hand caught Brooks’s shoulder, pulling him out of the thick cloud that was closing around his ears. “Brooks, it’s me. Nash. I’m Lexi’s fiancé.”
Brooks stared into the man’s gray eyes. Recognition hit him. Memories slid back into his mind, replacing the commands Leonetti had given him.
“We need to find Cam and get out of here. I overheard Leonetti call for backup earlier. If more guards arrive, we’ll be outnumbered,” Nash said.
“He okay?” a man’s deep voice asked.
Brooks jerked his head to the dark-haired man who was holding a gun aimed at the ground. His aloof unfriendliness struck Brooks. Recollection pummeled his brain. These men were new in his life, but he knew them. Axalantheum erased a lot of images from his head, and he had to work to hang on to the important ones.
One name Nash had said clung to his brain.
“Cam?” Brooks asked, one eye on the new guy.
The dark-haired man raised his eyebrows. “Not me. Shit, tell me he’s not hallucinating and thinks I’m his piece of ass.”
Anger flared inside him. “Don’t fucking call her that.”
“You!” another man shouted. “Stay put.” Leonetti stopped in his tracks, turning from the exit. He growled with irritation as he raised his hands in surrender to the newcomer.
A name sprang to Brooks’s mind. “Dare?” He swept his gaze back to the dark-haired one. “Cole?”
“Yeah, that’s us, buddy,” Dare said. “Sorry you got hit with that drug again. You going to do something about the fucker who enslaved you, or can I have the pleasure?” Dare swiveled the gun to point it at Leonetti.
“No, no. Pleasure’s mine.” Cole bunched his shoulders, steadying his weapon.
“Don’t listen to them, thirty-six. We’ve made huge medical advancements together. Without you, I’d still be stuck at animal trials. You showed us how powerful this drug can be. I know we have our differences, but I’ll make you a rich man for all your troubles.”
“Troubles?” Brooks said slowly.
His chest puffed out, and rage forced its way through his veins. All the pent-up anger he’d held for longer than he could remember came to a head. He grabbed the metal table, picked it up, and threw it at his target.
Leonetti stumbled out of the way, but the edge of the tabletop caught his knee, taking him down.
“Troubles?” Brooks screamed.
“Holy shit.” The voice next to him barely penetrated his thoughts.
He opened and closed his hands and took a step toward the man who’d brought him to death’s door more times than he could count.
Leonetti scurried to his feet, his palms in front of him as if they’d somehow shield him. “Son—thirty-six. You can’t do this to me. You take orders from me.” His pupils dilated with terror. Taking another step backward, Leonetti spun on his heel and raced out of the tent.
Brooks rolled his shoulders back, and the control the drug had over him fell away like broken chains. Leonetti held no more power.
***
Gripping her mom’shand, Cam ran through the forest. Her chest squeezed painfully, but she didn’t slow. Her foot landed on a rock. She winced, her knees buckling.
“Cam!” Her mom’s frantic wail pierced Cam’s heart.
She pushed herself up from the dirt. Circling her arm around her mom’s elbow, she pointed south. “There’s a truck this way.” Pain shot through her toes as she placed her weight down. Something warm coated her skin—blood.
Her eyes stung as she squinted in the darkness, but she continued moving swiftly through the brush. Leaving Brooks behind was wrong. Every atom in her being screamed at her to turn back, to do something, but she couldn’t let her mom face the same fate as Isaac. Her mom couldn’t die because of her. No. Getting Linda to safety was paramount.
“Honey, who are all those men?”
The breeze kicked up, making the leaves overhead sway ominously. An owl hooted, as if warning them to hurry. Cam’s teeth chattered despite the fact that the temperature was mild. Her mom’s question hung in the air. How could she explain Brooks, let alone his family?
“Camryn.” Warning filled her mom’s tone.
Cam stopped, noting the gravel road ahead. All they had to do was cross it. The truck was waiting on the other side. The keys pressed against her thigh in the pocket of her pants. “I’ll explain everything later, Mom. Brooks and his brothers are the good guys. I promise.”
“Oh, god. Are you romantic with him? Brooks?”
Romantic.
Memories of their hot sex ran through her mind. Part of her wanted to deny any involvement—not because she was ashamed of Brooks, but because admitting to their relationship, or whatever it was, would open Pandora’s box. Getting assaulted with questions was the opposite of what she needed right now.
“Please, Mom.” Cam jerked her head from left to right, scanning the gravel road. Not a soul. They stepped onto the loose rocks, and Cam let out a hiss of pain. She might as well be walking on scorching-hot coals.
“Hurry, get in,” she said, as they reached the truck. Her mom ran to the passenger’s side, and Cam climbed into the driver’s seat. Her chest tightened as she buckled her seatbelt.
Her cheeks tingled and regret made her movements stiff. If she took off, the guys would be left with no way out.
Her mom’s cold fingers landed on her forearm. Cam turned in her seat and stared at her mom’s face, which was partially hidden in the shadows. Part of her needed to crumble. To unload everything onto the rock that was her mom. But she couldn’t do that...
How could she explain the feelings she had for Brooks after being with him for only a few days?
Her mom’s shoulders shook in the darkness, and she covered her mouth with her hand. “I-Isaac. Oh, God. Stacey would be devastated.”
Cam’s barrier, the only thing keeping the tears in, quaked. “Mom—”
“Do you think he’s still alive? Maybe...”
Cam shook her head. The image of Isaac’s brain matter spraying out the side of his head played in her mind on repeat. She closed her eyes tightly. Thank god her mom had been sitting with her back to Isaac and hadn’t seen the horror. “He’s gone, Mom. There’s no way he survived.”
Deep sobs wracked her mom, and Cam pulled her into her arms. “There was nothing we could do...” Saying the meaningless words felt like a punch to the gut.
“He was so lost,” her mom said, pulling away to mop her cheeks with the sleeve of her shirt. “So much anger. I think a lot of it stemmed from not knowing who his father was. Maybe if he’d gone to counseling—”
She caught her mom’s hand. “There’s no use thinking of what could have been. He’s with Stacey now. We have to focus on getting out of here, and then we can mourn.”
“You’re right. Let’s go.”
Cam started the truck, but her hand stayed attached to the key.
“Honey, what’s wrong?”
Cam’s chest rose and fell as she pictured Brooks trapped inside, held down and tortured. She couldn’t leave. He’d die, or worse—get taken to a lab and never be found again. If something happened to Brooks, she’d never forgive herself. She shifted in her seat and gripped her mom’s fingers. “I have to go back.”
“What? No. You can’t.”
“Mom—”
“This is about that man, isn’t it?” The question sounded free of judgment.
Cam wet her lips. “He’s been tortured for months. Almost a year. I freed him, and the doctor in the lab coat plans to imprison him and test drugs on him until he dies.”
Her mom’s hand fluttered at her chest. “We need to call the police.”
“We can’t.” Cam glanced toward the main road. Brooks might have called them, although that was unlikely. Rather than explain the sensitive background of Brooks and the Holmes brothers, she shrugged. “We don’t have a phone. Maybe someone already called them anyway.”
Her mom waved her off. “Go. I’ll wait.”
“No. You have to get out of here. Take the truck and head south on the main road. That will take you back to the city.”
Her mom nodded. “Wait. Take my shoes.” She slipped off her loafers and handed them to Cam.
Cam gratefully shoved her feet into the shoes and flung open the door.
***
Nash clapped Brookson the back. “Time to go hunting.”
Brooks’s body flooded with gratification as he stomped out of the tent. His eyes adjusted to the darkness rapidly. As much as he hated having the synthetic drug coursing through his veins, his body responded to it really fucking well. A muscle in his jaw quivered. He paused outside the tent, tuning in to his heightened senses.
Huffing and panting reached his ears, faint, about fifty yards away. He narrowed his gaze in the direction his instinct pointed him toward and broke into a run. Pumping his arms at his sides, he navigated the forest. Leonetti’s scent—astringent and musty—reached his nostrils.
The flash of a white lab coat came into view. Brooks drove his feet faster into the earth.
Leonetti glanced over his shoulder. His mouth twisted in a silent scream and he stumbled onto the ground, his knees breaking his fall.
Brooks slowed as he approached. Snagging the doctor by his collar, he yanked him around.
“Th-Thirty-six... Brooks. Please, don’t do—”
Whack!
Brooks jabbed his fist into Leonetti’s face, sending his glasses into the dirt. “You have the nerve to beg me? Did you listen to my cries when you tortured me?”
Whack!
He hit him again and again, until the man hung in his grip, barely conscious.
“How about when I pissed myself after killing that first innocent man you brought to test my skills?”
Whack!
“You’re not going to live to see another fucking day.” The vow trembled on his lips. So much pain. So many horrible flashbacks that would plague him for a lifetime.
He caught Leonetti’s throat in both his hands, constricting his windpipe. Leonetti gasped and flailed, clawing at Brooks’s forearms. The satisfaction that had taken over every cell of his being dissipated. Brooks let out a sob as he squeezed tighter. The action so insignificant compared to what Leonetti deserved.
He should be injected. Stripped naked and whipped. Water-tortured until he got hypothermia. He needed to suffer and experience every ounce of pain he’d inflicted on people tenfold. He—
“Brooks?”
He snapped his head up, his hands never breaking contact with Leonetti. Cam stood in the forest, her hands pressed to a tree as if holding herself up. Her gaze lowered to the doctor. With his enhanced vision, Brooks could see her swallow. The drug had made him forget his brother-in-law and nearly fucking kill him, but recognition assaulted him as he looked at Cam. It took the breath right from his lungs and assured him that he was overcoming the drug’s effects through pure discipline.
Scenes played in his mind like an old-school movie. The scent of her, warm and floral. Her fine-boned hands stroking his jaw and hair, her legs wrapped around him, her tinkling laugh. She inched closer, her hands knotted in front of her.
Dammit, she was scared of him.
He loosened his hands a touch. Leonetti sucked in a breath of air. The bastard didn’t deserve another breath, but dammit to hell and back, Cam didn’t need to see him murder someone in cold blood. If she hated him after this, he wouldn’t be able to live with himself. “I won’t hurt you,” he said, wheezing, keeping his attention on her face. Whether she believed it or not, he had to say it for his own sake.
She nodded. Her breath labored, telling him she’d been running. Sirens screeched through the night—cops?
“That must be the police.” She fluttered up to him, staying far enough away that Leonetti’s grappling hands wouldn’t touch her.
She set a firm hand on his shoulder. “Hurry and finish.”
Leonetti stretched his fingers toward her. “No! Please, get h—”
Her words of approval filled him with triumph. She didn’t think he was a monster. She didn’t hate him. In one quick movement, Brooks cut off Leonetti’s breath and snapped his neck simultaneously. Leonetti’s bones turned to liquid as he slouched out of Brooks’s hands and landed on the ground, rustling the leaves as he went.
Cam’s slim, delicate arms looped around his bicep. Her lips pressed to his shoulder. The sirens got closer. He held his fingers to the side of his head as the screech echoed through his brain. Memories of the lab’s alarm slammed into his mind, reminding him of the times he’d thought he’d escaped. How freedom had teased his taste buds just before he was dragged back to hell, over and over. Moisture stuck to his lashes. He heaved a sigh, and a sob followed. He dropped to his knees and Cam came with him.
She linked her hands around his neck. “Oh, Brooks.”
His broken cries tore through his chest, ripping from the deepest gallows of pain. Tears raced down his cheeks before he could stop them or even latch on to the reason for the breakdown. “I’m a monster,” he said, the words desperate.
Her kisses rained on his cheeks as her hands held his jaw. “No, baby. You’re not.”
Footsteps crunched up behind him. He didn’t need to lift his head to know it was the guys. He pressed his knuckles into the dirt but couldn’t stand. Couldn’t pull himself together even to save his dignity.
“You did what was necessary to survive. You’re a fighter, Brooks.” She caught his hand and brought his knuckles to her lips. The same knuckles who’d killed numerous men. “Please, come back to me.”
He stared at her face. Her earnest expression made him straighten his spine. “I’m not going anywhere.” He caught her in his arms and stood. Holding her to his chest, her legs wrapped around his waist, he carried her out of the forest.
The demons inside him had been released. He could let go of the fear of who he was. Facing the authorities would be another story.