Page 73 of The Wanted One

“Roger that.” At Oliver’s response, I had to assume Jack was higher up in the chain of command for their team.

“Go with him,” I told Lucy. “I’ll be right behind you.”

She gave my arm a little squeeze, then nodded and joined Oliver.

I fidgeted with the hem of my new shirt, wondering if I ought to give it to Lucy instead. “I have to tell you something,” I finally shared.

“Yeah, I know.” There was almost a touch of humor to his tone, but I could’ve been imagining that, too. “And I never finished telling you my thing.”

Your thing. Right. Who’s Jill? Who do I need to knock out for hurting you?

“But let’s move farther away from that guy while we talk. Well, possibly guys. Plural.” He smiled at his last word, and I tilted my head, lost on the joke. “Sorry, was thinking about my mom . . .” He held my wrist and guided me away from the fence.

“Bad guys make you think about your mom?” That should be my line.

Once we were about fifty feet away from the perimeter of the house, he replied, “No, my grammar does, but uh, ignore me.” He shrugged, and a boyish grin touched his lips. I was happy I could make that one out since his smile eased my nerves a bit. “So . . .”

I wet my lips, my anxiety back front and center. I’d rather talk about his mother than mine. But here goes. “Lucy doesn’t know all the details about what happened the night the Fed died. She only knows bits and pieces.”

He quietly reached for my hand and laced our fingers together, then pulled me closer, bringing our linked palms to his chest, just over his heart. How’d he know I needed those steady beats to get me through this?

“I don’t want to hurt her with the truth.” I hated the way my voice broke on my whispered words.

“She’s an adult now, not a kid like when you took off.”

“Yeah, but she also thinks that, um . . .” Just get it out. “She thinks our mom died in a car accident.” I closed my eyes, thinking back to the night before Mom’s accident. How she’d laid everything out for me. The new names and passports. The money. The plan to escape to London after she’d faked her death so we could meet up with her trusted friend. A way to finally escape the bastard who had control over her. But she’d asked me not to tell Lucy anything beforehand.

“She’s too young. She won’t understand.” Mom had cupped my cheeks, tears in her eyes. “When we’re all safely in London, I’ll figure out what to tell her. But if anything goes wrong . . . you take her to London yourself. You protect her, okay?”

“What are you saying?” At the feel of Jack’s free hand tracing the curve of my cheek, I opened my eyes.

“She was never supposed to die,” I told him, my stomach twisting in knots. “Her plan was to fake her death in a car accident so the three of us could run away.” He tightened his hold of my hand as I continued, “We were supposed to cross the border into Mexico and fly from there to London together. The car accident worked, and it was even reported on the news. My sister wasn’t supposed to see that, though, and before I had a chance to tell her it was okay, that Mom was alive, we were taken from our house.”

He grimaced but kept quiet, waiting for more.

“What Mom didn’t plan for was her asshole employer sending people for us. He knew I could drive, because she taught me, and he had a heist that’d been months in the works, and since he thought she died . . . well, they needed a getaway driver at the last minute, and they came for me.”

“Fuck,” he rasped.

“They told me they’d kill Lucy if I didn’t do it, and I knew I had to make it out alive without getting arrested to save her.” My body was trembling, but he drew us even closer, so our clasped palms were now all that was wedged between our heartbeats. “After the heist was pulled off, I was taken to his mansion in Malibu.”

With his hand still on my cheek, he caught the sole tear that managed to escape.

“We were in his garage. Looked like a small chop shop, but it wasn’t one. He’s just . . . well, he’s rich.” I swallowed, trying to take my time to get through this, but also knowing I didn’t have all day. “Lucy was in there, and I begged him to let us go. But that asshole had a change of heart. He needed someone to replace Mom on his team. And he decided it should be me. He wouldn’t take no as an answer.” Chills chased down my spine, and another tear fell, dropping onto his big hand cupping my cheek. “Two of the men there that night were undercover Feds. They broke their covers to try and save us.” This part. Fuck this part. More tears fell, and Jack let go of my hand to pull me in for a hug, squeezing me against his chest. “Shots were fired. They didn’t have a chance to call for backup. I guess they’d been deep under.”

“I’m so sorry,” he said, his mouth by my ear as he held me.

“One of the Feds managed to get my sister out of there, though. He tucked her away on the property just before he was shot. She doesn’t know that. She doesn’t know he died to save her life, and I don’t want her carrying that burden.” My stomach protested the memories. And the tension in my chest was going to crush me with the weight of my emotions as I relived that night.

“And you were framed for that?”

I shook my head. “No, I was framed for killing the other Fed. The one the bastard shot himself.”

“Who is he?” He pulled back to find my eyes. “Who do I need to kill to set you free?”

My heart slammed against my chest at his words, at his promise to handle the prick for me. To end my nightmare. “Brant Luther,” I hesitantly revealed.

His eyes widened in recognition. Because who didn’t know that man?

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