He lifted the gun, aiming it at her heart. “Stay still, Zoey. Let’s not make this more difficult than it has to be.”
The utter ridiculousness of the statement astounded her.
“What? You want me to make killing me easy for you?” She questioned him incredulously. “Are you serious, Luther?”
He frowned at the question. “I’m actually very serious. There’s no need to make this harder on both of us. You’ll only upset me and cause me to hurt you further. There’s no need for that.”
She blinked back at him. Standing completely still, Zoey tilted her head and frowned back at him. “Were your parents siblings as well? Because that’s completely crazy.”
A dark, heavy flush washed from his neck to his hairline as fury snapped into his gaze and contorted his expression.
“I’m not crazy,” he yelled, his tone defensive, so much so that she guessed she must have hit a nerve. “You didn’t even know who I was. No one knew who I was.”
She had to laugh at that. “Luther, everyone knows who was behind what happened to me last year, just as they know what you tried to do. Did you actually believe Rigsby could make me stay silent about it?”
“No . . .”
“He told every secret the two of you thought you could keep.” Lifting her arms from her sides, she watched his gaze jerk to the movement. “I didn’t forget it, as he told you I would. All his bragging ensured you would fail. Why do you think he tried to kill me?”
“I told him not to do it.” A pout pulled at his lips, though the weapon never wavered. “I warned him not to try it, even when he followed you and Billy. That little bastard’s too good a driver. I warned him of it.”
“And his brother’s always close, ready to protect him,” she reminded him. “Clay and his pack killed Rigsby and his hired gun. And they’re looking for you now. Do you really think you can hide from him? Or from the three men who called me their little witch?” She finally asked gloatingly. “That’s four biker packs, Luther. And three of them are renowned for their mercilessness when they go hunting out of vengeance. They’ll make you hurt, for a long time, before they kill you.”
Something flickered in his gaze then. Fear. Uncertainty.
Zoey remained quiet. Gloating further, threatening or warning him further would only harden his resolve. Let him think about it a minute.
“You think you’re so smart,” he accused her, about a minute later actually. “You think that’s going to keep you alive?”
She looked heavenward with a sigh, then glared back at him. “I think you should have introduced yourself before you decided to become my personal headache, because you’re every bit as damned stubborn as any other Mackay male I’ve ever met, Luther,” she snapped, propping one hand on her hip and gripping the edge of the table with the other hand. “You would have gotten along with the rest of them fine.”
The gun lifted.
“I wouldn’t,” the dark, inherently murderous tone of voice suggested from the hall. “It could get you killed.”
Doogan.
He hadn’t left her. He was still there. She wasn’t alone with a crazy Mackay. A Mackay male was bad enough. A crazy Mackay male was worse than a rabid animal.
Anger, fear, and a flash of that crazy filled the aqua eyes.
“I hate you,” Luther suddenly shouted, though the weapon never rose farther as he glared at Zoey.
Her eyes widened. “You’re breaking my heart, Luther,” she informed him intractably. “You think I didn’t figure out you hated me?”
“I didn’t even hate you then,” he cried. “I just wanted you arrested. I didn’t really hurt you. I wanted Dawg hurt. He’s the reason I was sent away.” The crazy was beginning to become enraged.
His hand trembled, his finger tightening on the trigger as it lifted just a little farther. She jumped to the side, throwing herself to the floor. Doogan jumped for Luther, slammed his body into the smaller man’s, and took him to the floor. The gun was flung across the floor, skittering beneath the table. Zoey scrambled for it, grabbing it quickly and coming to her knees before she realized Luther was unconscious.
Resting on one knee, Doogan flipped Luther to his stomach, jerked the other man’s arms behind his back, and secured his wrists quickly with a pair of nylon restraints Luther himself had carried.
“He’s crazy,” she whispered, staring back at Doogan wide eyed. “How does someone so crazy manage what he and Rigsby managed?”
Staring at the now-silent Luther, Doogan rose slowly to his feet before turning to her.
“Evidently, Rigsby was the brains of the two,” he grunted.
He was still tense, though, too tense, his gaze warning, something about his demeanor filling her with dread.
It wasn’t over.
Tightening her grip on the weapon she’d snapped up from the floor, Zoey rested it against the padded seat of the chair she knelt beside.
“Unfortunately for Zoey, that’s not necessarily true, Doogan.” Jack Clay stepped from Zoey’s bedroom then, his gaze hard, his expression, though, regretful.
“Jack.” She whispered his name in shock.
Not Jack. He couldn’t be involved in this. He wouldn’t hurt her. They’d worked together for so long. For more than five years.
“You were supposed to die on the way back from Louisville,” Jack sighed, the gun he held not trembling in the least. There was nothing crazy in his expression or his gaze. Just determination.
“Billy knew?” she whispered.
“Billy’s probably the only reason you’re still alive,” Doogan said then. “Jack wasn’t expecting his brother to be with you.”
Jack’s lips quirked at the statement. “Very true,” he sighed. “I actually expected Dawg to make that trip with her. At which point, I would have been in place myself to take his head off with my rifle, and Rigsby would have taken care of Zoey.” He shrugged negligently. “I really hadn’t wanted to kill Zoey myself.”
“You wouldn’t have been any less guilty,” she whispered, her voice hoarse.
“Still, I wouldn’t have put the bullet in your head myself. Then you just had to call Billy to go with you.” His smile was rueful. “Mackay intuition?”
Zoey swallowed, the movement difficult. “Everyone else was busy. I promised Dawg I wouldn’t take trips out of the county alone.”
He chuckled at her answer, though his attention never faltered from Doogan as he stood in position to keep them both in sight. “Fate, then? How fucking appropriate. That bitch seems to like your family far too much, Zoey.”
She’d heard that accusation before.
Turning her wrist, she aimed the gun she held, pain racing through her. She didn’t want to kill him.
“That bastard Rigsby shot Billy, though.” Jack shook his head. “He would have died for that alone. Now, I have to kill both of you myself.” His gaze flicked to the unconscious Luther. “I thought for sure he was smart enough to take care of this. Crazy enough to do it, anyway. I didn’t anticipate him being soft where you’re concerned.”
“Most people are,” Doogan assured him coolly, drawing Jack’s attention from Luther. “You’re not going to get away with this, Jack. It won’t happen.”
“Sure I will,” Jack assured him, his gaze somber. “I’m going to hate having to do it myself, but I accepted last year that it had to be done. I can’t let that pact go through, Doogan. Those three bastards who are so loyal to Zoey would destroy my own little business. I thought at first that killing your brother and kidnapping your kid was enough, but Rigsby couldn’t even get that right could he? He was smart enough to cap Catalina, and your brother was nice enough to put a bullet in his own head, but you were still pushing, still working, even through the grief. But you were soft on Zoey. Real soft on her, and I knew it. Destroying her would have finished you, wouldn’t it?”
“Why Jack?” Doogan asked coolly. “How did any of this really help you? My daughter was innocent, Zoey was innocent. How does killing th
em help you?”
“They weren’t supposed to die.” Jack sighed, weariness filling his expression. “You just don’t understand. You can’t stop the changes coming. A revolution is building, man; fighting it will only get you killed. Sometimes you just have to go with the flow and profit from it where you can.”
“Fuck, Jack,” Doogan sighed wearily. “You’re behind the arms thefts in Fort Knox, aren’t you?”
“A nice little sideline.” Jack shrugged. “The real money is information, though. The Army Human Resources Center is a beehive of information, Doogan. You don’t know the sensitive information on service members that goes through there, or the profit to be made in it for the right person.” A smirk touched his lips. “I guess I’m the right person, and several of the members of my pack work inside it. People aren’t always as careful as they should be, I guess.”
“Why?” Doogan’s voice hardened. “Why betray your country like that? Everyone you know? And Billy? This will kill him, Jack.”
Zoey was careful to remain quiet, the weapon she held trained on him, though she’d have only one chance to hit him, and then that shot would be below the waist.
“Billy will never know.” Icy control and determination tightened Jack’s face. “If you’d actually killed Luther, I might have been able to let this go.” He glanced at Luther. “But you intend to question him, I guess. I have a feeling he’d break easy. Don’t you?”
Doogan simply stared at him as Zoey felt tears burning her eyes. As he said, this would kill Billy. He idolized Jack. Their parents were dead and they had no other family. Billy would feel lost without Jack, and Zoey wouldn’t blame him.
“Sorry ’bout this, Doogan . . .” Jack lifted his arm, fully intent on firing.
Zoey’s finger tightened on the trigger. A second before she would have fired her own shot, Jack’s eyes widened and the sound of a weapon discharging exploded through the shadowed apartment.
Doogan threw himself toward Zoey as she ducked, the gun still gripped in her hand when Doogan grabbed it from her and rolled to his back, aiming at the hall entrance across from them.
Peeping beneath the table, she saw Jack’s fallen form stretched out on the floor, blood pooling beneath his body, his lifeless gaze directed toward the back of the apartment.
“Are you okay, Zoey?” Billy’s voice came from the hall, low, and filled with aching pain.
Billy had killed his brother. Her friend had looked up to his brother just as Zoey looked up to Dawg; killing him would be ripping Billy’s heart out.
“Toss your weapon where I can see it, Billy,” Doogan ordered him.
The gun clattered across the floor. “I found Harley outside,” Billy said, his voice hollow. “He’s hurt pretty bad, but he was able to tell me who ’bout killed him tonight. Mackays are on their way. Jack wasn’t going to wait any longer, though, was he, Doogan?” Billy was still hidden by the wall that extended beyond the kitchen.
“He wasn’t going to wait,” Doogan agreed.
Reaching for Zoey, he drew her to her feet as he rose, keeping her carefully behind him.
“That’s what I thought.” Billy sounded almost dazed.
“Billy, I need you to show yourself,” Doogan ordered, his gaze and his weapon never wavering as Zoey pressed her head to his back, shaking it slowly.
“Is Zoey okay?” Billy asked, rather than doing as Doogan commanded. “He didn’t hurt her, did he?”
“Zoey’s fine. Do as I said, Billy.” Doogan’s tone hardened, his body tensing.
“Can’t do that.” The weak, hollow sound of his voice caused Zoey to clench her hands at Doogan’s back.
“Why not, Billy?” Doogan wasn’t relenting. His fingers gripped her arm when Zoey would have moved around him, holding her back.
“Hell, I don’t think I can stand back up, man.” A heavy breath filled his voice. “I followed him. I heard him on the phone. Heard him say Zoey had to be taken out.” The disillusionment was horrible to hear. “I followed him after he left. Slipped in the garage door behind him. Hell, Zoey, did you give him your code?”
A sob broke from her voice. “He had the code to the back garage,” she answered as she followed Doogan’s slow advance to the edge of the kitchen.
Sirens could be heard racing closer now. The cavalry was coming, but they were coming far too late to save Billy from the most horrible decision Zoey could imagine he’d ever had to make in his life.
“I’m so sorry, Zoey.” Billy’s voice was low, weak.
“Hurry. Please,” she begged Doogan. “Don’t let anything happen to him, Doogan. Please. He’s my friend.”
He was one of the few friends she’d claimed in the past year. One of the few who had never run to her brother to tattle on her.
“Stay here.” Low, hard, the order was a lash of inner rage that sent a chill racing down her spine as he stopped her only inches from the entrance to the hall.
Doogan stepped to the edge of the wall, looked down it slowly, and then with a low “Come on,” he moved to Billy’s fallen form.
Sirens and flashing lights filled the apartment as Zoey rushed to Billy, kneeling beside him. The wound where the bullet had been dug from his side had torn open. Blood stained his T-shirt and dripped to the floor. Pale, weak, he stared up at her miserably as Doogan rushed back to the kitchen.
“I’m so sorry, Zoey,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry.”
Holding his hand, Zoey patted it gently, aware of Doogan hurrying back, a stack of her dishcloths in his hand.
“I’m still beating your ass in that race at the end of the month. That scratch on your side won’t save you.” It was impossible to keep the tears from her voice or from falling down her face.
His head lolled to the side, resting on her shoulder as Doogan worked to stop the bleeding, his eyes so hard, so cold, it broke her heart.
He was distancing himself, pulling away from anything he might feel.
“I killed my brother, Zoey,” Billy said, misery spilling from him. “I killed him.”
“No, Billy, you didn’t kill your brother.” Doogan’s head jerked up, that inner rage so reflected in his gaze that Zoey flinched. “Trust me, the man you killed, killed your brother. He wasn’t your brother when he made the choice to betray everyone who trusted him. He ceased being your brother in that single second. You hear me?”
“Like your brother?” Billy asked, the words sending shock racing through Zoey. “When he betrayed you?”
“Like my brother,” Doogan agreed, the rage, the flash of pain, all of it receding beneath the ice as he stared back at Zoey.
He’d lost so much and she hadn’t even known. He hadn’t shared any of it with her, no part of himself but the pleasure they’d shared.
“Makes you dead inside?” Billy sighed as the security system to the doors activated, notifying the intruders tearing through the house that law enforcement had been called and they were now being recorded.
Mackays, their in-laws, and their friends were filling the rooms; EMTs rushed behind them and Zoey’s world became chaos. And through it all, she knew the one thing she would remember most was Doogan rising to his feet, turning his back, and walking away.
Walking away from her.
NINETEEN
Three weeks later
Doogan stepped into the shadowed, cold stone walls of the Doogan ancestral home, and for the first time in far too long, he didn’t feel as though he were smothering from the loss of his daughter’s laughter ringing through the halls.
The pain was still there, bittersweet, regretful, and tinged with guilt. He’d always blame himself for his sweet Katie’s death and the confused horror he knew she must have felt that day. She’d known she wasn’t supposed to leave the house with anyone, but her uncle Regan had come for her. Her nanny wasn’t around; of course she hadn’t known Uncle Regan had locked the nanny in a closet, and her “unca” promised her it was all right to leave.
Her uncle promised her that her mommy was w
aiting to give her the bicycle she wanted so bad, and of course he’d already told her daddy. It was fine. And his sweet, trusting Katie had left with him.
And then her mother and her uncle Regan had tried to make her get in the car with a strange man. A man whose face frightened her. One she knew her daddy wouldn’t want her with. She hadn’t known Rigsby, but she’d seen the evil in him.
Katie had broken away from them. Her flight was caught by a security camera on a nearby business. The fear in her face, the tears, and her mother’s and uncle’s rage as they tried to catch her. She’d run in front of the car before anyone could do anything. There had been no way the driver, whose speed had been clocked at no more than six miles under the speed limit for the residential street, could have seen her. Still, it had been too fast to stop, to keep from slamming into the little girl racing from between the parked cars.
Doogan hadn’t even been able to tell her good-bye.
The driver said Regan had been inconsolable, that Katie’s final words had destroyed him.
“Why, unca? Why did you let me get hurt? My da will miss me, unca. I want my da.” Then Katie’s sweet eyes had closed and never opened again.
Katie’s grave had been placed next to her grandmother’s, where she would rest secure between loving grandparents when Doogan’s father passed. Doogan’s plot was below his baby girl’s; her nanny had asked to be buried above her. The middle-aged woman had passed in her sleep six months later when her heart had just stopped beating. Another death Doogan laid at his bastard brother’s and traitorous dead wife’s feet.
His wife’s lover had killed her before the day was out. A gunshot to the head. Doogan had found Regan later in Katie’s room, the gun he’d used to kill himself lying on the floor beside him. The grief and guilt, he’d written before taking his own life, was more than he could bear. He’d believed Catalina. Believed Doogan was divorcing her to be with another woman and taking Katie from her.
Breathing in deep, he strode through the vaulted entryway and through the family room to the office on the other end of the room. His father’s call that he had visitors had pissed him off. The old man refused to tell him who the visitors were, only that they were friends, and someone Doogan needed to see.