Deadly Silence

  Greg nodded. “Madison is a doctor.”

  Denver cleared his throat. “Is she your mom or something?”

  “No.” Greg’s hand visibly tightened on the box until his knuckles turned white. “There’s no way, is there? You didn’t find her. This was just a trap.”

  “Wait.” Ryker stiffened, one hand held out. “Just wait. Okay. Trust goes both ways, right? Here it is, kid.”

  Greg focused solely on him.

  Good. That was good. “We’ve seen the woman before. All three of us. She’d show up at the boys home, the one you know about, and test us for shit. But she went by a different name.”

  The color drained from Greg’s face. “Bullshit, man,” he whispered, his voice going hoarse.

  Denver moved closer to him. “You’re killin’ me. I can almost taste your pain. Jesus. Let it out.”

  Greg blinked. “Wait a minute. Just wait a fucking minute.”

  Ryker had seen a wounded bear cub in the woods years ago. The little furball had been scared shitless and horribly furious, and it had kept striking out and retreating over and over. This kid was worse. Wild desperation glittered in his eyes, and resignation slumped his shoulders. “Wait, Greg.”

  “Why?” the kid sputtered.

  “Because I’ll help you find her. I swear to God, if you tell me the truth, I’ll help you find who you’re really looking for.” Ryker took a step toward him.

  Tears filled Greg’s eyes. “If she tested you, she’s everywhere. Don’t you see? We can’t win. I’m supposed to be dead, so I will be. That’s how it is.” He looked frantically around. “If she tested you, she’s watching you now. Don’t you see?”

  “No.” Ryker took point since the kid was focused on him. Though Dr. Madison had studied him through the years, she’d obviously had a greater presence in Greg’s life for him to be so frightened. “Did she raise you?”

  “Yes, and she can find us all,” Greg hissed.

  Ryker shook his head. “We’ve changed names several times, and we’ve been on the run. She can’t watch us anymore.” Who the fuck was the woman?

  “I found you.” No triumph and only sad fact lowered the kid’s tone.

  “You found us because of what we do now: We find the lost. We’re fucking great at it, and you know it. She doesn’t know that about us, about me. She never really figured out what made me different, although she tried.” Ryker went on instinct and kept talking. “Did she find out what made you different?”

  “No.” Greg paused. “She never did.”

  Okay, don’t push. He was getting through to the kid. “She would show up out of the blue and have us take a bunch of written as well as physical tests.”

  Greg glanced at Heath and Denver. “Them too?”

  “Yeah. Then she’d run us through different obstacle courses and do a series of medical tests,” Ryker added.

  Greg turned then, his focus slamming into Ryker. “Did she teach you to kill?”

  Ryker’s chest compressed. “No. Somebody else taught me that.”

  “The commander?” Greg whispered.

  Ryker studied him and, once again, went with the truth. “No. Who’s that?”

  Greg licked his lips. “If you don’t know, then you don’t need to know.”

  “Okay. At some point, if you really want to find Isobel Madison, you’re gonna have to trust us with the entire truth. You know we can find her. But I have to know all of it.” Ryker took another step toward the kid.

  The door to the stairwell opened. “Ryker? Your phone—” Zara gave a startled “Eep” as Greg grabbed her around the neck, his arm banding around her larynx, the knife close to her jugular. He was at least three inches taller than a barefoot Zara, even at his young age.

  “No,” Ryker yelled, stiffening. Pure panic exploded in his chest, but he sucked in air and went cold. He needed to think without emotion.

  If the kid knew what he was doing—and the kid really did look like he knew what he was doing—he could crush her windpipe before Ryker could get to her. “Let her go,” Ryker said calmly.

  Greg’s eyes grew wild again.

  The detonator was in his other hand, which was down by Zara’s thigh.

  “Listen, Greg. That’s Zara, and she’s a really nice paralegal who likes to cook lasagna and wear funky shoes.” Ryker immediately set out to make her human to the kid, even as his ears started to ring. “I have a feeling you haven’t known many nice ladies in your life, and you need to understand that the one you’re scaring so badly is as nice as they come. Nice, soft, and unable to protect herself from you.”

  Greg blinked, and his hold appeared to loosen a fraction. “I don’t want to hurt her.” His voice rose with a painful desperation.

  Zara held perfectly still, Ryker’s phone still in her hand. “What’s going on?” she whispered, her face draining of color.

  “Get the info on Madison, and do it now,” Greg said levelly. “I said I didn’t want to hurt your lady, and I don’t, but I’ll do what I have to do. I have to find Madison.” The stark emotion in his eyes matched his raw tone.

  The knife at Zara’s throat glinted in the soft light. So close to her jugular. Ryker failed to banish emotion. “You hurt her, and I’ll rip you apart.”

  Greg nodded, his eyes desolate. “Okay. Get the info for me.”

  The boy was ready to die, damn it. Ryker fought the urge to start swinging. “Fine. I’ll get the info.” He moved toward the door to the stairwell and came abreast of the two. “Now, Zara,” he whispered.

  She jammed an elbow into Greg’s gut, and the boy breathed out but didn’t release her. Ryker grabbed both his wrists, using size and strength to yank Greg’s arm off Zara’s neck. She ducked beneath his shoulder and spun around behind him.

  Ryker shoved both of Greg’s wrists against the wall, trying to keep from hurting the kid, even now.

  Greg hissed and released the box. Denver yelled and dove forward, catching the thing right before it hit the ground.

  Ryker leaned into Greg, allowing his fury to show. “That was my woman you just threatened to kill.”

  Zara cleared her throat and slid a palm along his arm. “He’s just a boy, Ryker. Let’s talk about this.” Her voice was wheezy from nearly being choked.

  Greg met his gaze evenly, no fear showing. “You wanna go?”

  Fuck no, he didn’t wanna go. “Denver? Got the trigger?”

  Denver rolled to his feet and studied the box. With a low growl, he ripped off the back.

  Greg smiled.

  “Jesus. This is just a blinking box,” Denver snapped.

  “No bomb?” Ryker asked, his hold not relenting.

  Greg sniffed. “I wouldn’t hurt a nice lady like Zara Remington. Geez. The chick bakes cookies for the old folks home every Sunday.”

  Zara gasped from behind him. “How did you know that?”

  Ryker frowned. He hadn’t even known that fact. Was there a questionnaire to dating he hadn’t discovered?

  Greg leaned toward Ryker as much as the strong hold would allow. “Oh, there ain’t much I don’t know about Ryker and the people in his life.”

  Ryker reared back and then went stone-cold. Finally. “Enough.”

  Greg ignored him. “In fact, lady, I’m pretty sure I know a whole lot more about Ryker and these guys than you do.”

  Zara stepped up to Ryker’s side. “Is that a fact?”

  Greg’s Adam’s apple bobbled. “Yep. Would you like to know everything?”

  Chapter

  16

  Zara ignored her freezing bare feet and wished she’d pulled on sweats along with Ryker’s discarded T-shirt. At least the thing was enormous and hung to her bare, chilled knees.

  What in the world was going on, and why had some kid just tried to choke her while holding a knife?

  “Zara? Please go back upstairs.” Ryker’s entire back undulated with barely banked violence. Tension swelled in vibrating heat around them, but his hold seemed gentle, as if he didn’t
want to hurt Greg.

  “No.” She tapped his waist with his phone to calm him. “Your phone has been buzzing like crazy, which is why I brought it down to you. Let that boy go.” She eyed the kid. Brown eyes, shaggy hair, lost expression. Oh, he’d felt a lot older when he’d been choking her, but even then, it had seemed he was trying to keep from hurting her. “Who are you?”

  “I’m a client. Name is Greg,” the kid said politely. “Sorry about the neck.”

  “I’m fine. Sorry I elbowed you in the stomach.” She glanced down at the kid’s narrow frame. “Are you hungry?” Perhaps if she got food into everybody, they’d all calm down and explain what was going on.

  “Always.” He shrugged and didn’t seem to notice that Ryker still had him pinned to the wall.

  “All right.” Zara smacked Ryker harder. “How about we all go up to Ryker’s apartment, and I make us a nice breakfast. Then we can figure out what’s going on and what we should do next. I’m happy to help one of Ryker’s clients.” The kid looked beyond lost, and he needed help.

  So she’d help.

  Everyone looked toward Ryker. “We are not going to have a nice breakfast, Zara,” he ground out.

  “I’d like a nice breakfast,” Greg said, flashing her a smile.

  Heath cleared his throat from just a couple of feet away, his gaze thoughtful on Greg. “I wouldn’t mind eating something homemade.”

  “Me either,” Denver chimed in, also watching Greg, his brow furrowed.

  Greg turned his smile on Ryker. “It’s time to let me go, man.”

  “Or?” Ryker asked.

  Greg’s lips firmed. “Or I knee you in the balls, take out your left knee, destroy your right ankle, break ribs eleven and twelve, and then knock you out with a punch to the temple. Then I’ll go eat eggs with your lady.”

  Ryker shook his head. “Much as I’d like to show you why that wouldn’t work, I’d have to hurt you, and I’d rather not do that. Yet.” He pushed off from the kid and gently straightened Greg’s shirt.

  Greg blinked and then slowly lowered his arms, his gaze on Zara. “I totally think you could do better than him.”

  Warmth bloomed through Zara, and she grinned. The night had passed surreal and careened right into bizarre. “That’s awfully kind of you to say.” She held out her arm, and the kid hesitated before sliding his through hers, leaving Ryker behind them. “I don’t suppose you have anybody in mind?”

  “Well, that attorney you work with is a nice guy, and he volunteers as a coach with a Little League softball team every spring. His sister has a kid who plays.” Greg switched arms with her so she had the railing on her other side, his hold hesitant and beyond gentle.

  Surprise and unease invaded Zara’s stomach. “You really have investigated me.”

  “Just a little. I had to know I could trust these guys before hiring them.” Greg slowed his steps so she could keep up. “Don’t worry. I didn’t look into anything really personal.”

  Zara stumbled. “Um, thanks?”

  “Sure thing.” They reached Ryker’s apartment, and Greg pushed open the door, walking inside first. He lifted his head and listened, doing a quick scan of the place. “Come on in.”

  Okay. That was odd, and she’d seen Ryker do the same thing several times with a little more finesse. “What were you looking for, sweetie?” she asked.

  He shrugged. “Any threats. I figure when a pretty lady offers to cook a guy breakfast, he should make sure the area is safe, you know?”

  What kind of upbringing did this kid have to be looking for threats before being able to relax enough to eat scrambled eggs?

  She made her way through the empty room to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator, which was surprisingly stocked. “How about cheesy eggs, bacon, sausage, and some biscuits and gravy?” Turning around, she took in Greg’s widened eyes.

  He nodded and swallowed, looking like a hungry puppy.

  Glancing past him, she bit back a grin at seeing Heath and Denver nodding as well, their expressions just as full of hope as Greg’s.

  Ryker, on the other hand, leaned against the wall, his arms already crossed and what could best be described as a scowl marring his rugged features.

  “This might take me a little while.” She jerked her head at Greg. “Find some bowls and pans, would you?” Maybe if she gave him a couple of tasks, he’d relax. She began drawing food from the fridge to place on the smooth granite countertop.

  Greg launched into motion and tore open cupboards. “There’s nothing here,” he whispered, sounding nearly heartbroken.

  “I have cooking stuff. Be right back.” Denver turned on a heel and quickly disappeared out the door.

  “Thank God,” Greg muttered.

  Heath chuckled. “I told you he was nesting.”

  Ryker cleared his throat. “Right now, Greg and Heath down to my office. We’ll work until Zara calls us for breakfast. I’ve seen her cook—it ain’t fast, but the end result is awesome.”

  “How about you guys work here? I’d love to know what’s going on.” If the kid was in legal trouble, she could even help. She gave Greg her most encouraging smile.

  Greg smiled back, but his eyes darkened at the same time. “I think we should go to the office.” He glanced longingly at the eggs. “We’ll hurry if you will.”

  So the kid didn’t want her to know his business? “I’m a paralegal, and I may be able to help you,” she said softly.

  He met her gaze then, his looking much older than it should. “Ryker’s correct that you’re a nice lady, and I appreciate your offering to help me, but there’s nothing you can do. It’s better if you don’t know about me. Please don’t mention me to anybody.” He turned and headed for the door. “Let’s get this over with.”

  Heath followed him into the hallway.

  Ryker didn’t move and caught her gaze. “The kid is right. I don’t know his story yet, but I will, and something tells me it ain’t going to be pretty.”

  She lifted her chin, her heart aching for all of them. “You said you wanted something real with me.”

  “I do.”

  “Then you can’t leave me in the dark. Not like this.” Everything in her wanted to soothe that desperate look in Greg’s young eyes. She’d never been very maternal, but there was something about him she wanted to heal. “I might be able to help.”

  “You’re a paralegal, and part of your job is keeping confidences. My job is the same way, and I can’t talk about many of my cases.” Ryker spoke evenly, his body relaxed, his tone as firm as steel. “Our work doesn’t define our relationship, and you know it.”

  Yet something told her that he was leaving way too much out. She didn’t even understand enough about his past to know what questions to ask him.

  He shoved away from the wall. “Do you want help with making breakfast?”

  She tried not to smile. Ryker was a disaster in the kitchen, and she knew that firsthand. “Thanks, but you go get the story from Greg.” If the kid needed privacy to tell his story, she’d give it to them. For now.

  He nodded, amusement tilting his lips. “Fair enough. Give a shout when breakfast is ready.” Turning, he paused at the doorway and looked back, his eyes warming into a soft green, banishing the blue. “It’s really nice of you to cook for everybody, and I hope you know how much I appreciate it.”

  Well now, if he was going to be all sweet with her, she’d have to struggle with remaining protective of her heart. Unless he’d finally let her in? “Secrets can’t work between us, Ryker,” she mused.

  He paused. “If I have secrets, they need to stay buried for both of us. Trust me.”

  Denver showed up with two boxes in his hands. “I have pots and pans as well as some mixing bowls.”

  Ryker frowned and took the boxes. “Jesus. You are nesting.”

  Why did that sound like such a bad thing?

  * * *

  Ryker loped into his office, where both Heath and the kid had already dropped into guest chairs.


  “I like your office,” Greg said, his gaze on the picture of the Fat Boy.

  “Thanks. You’ve seen it before when you bugged us.” Ryker went around the desk. “Isobel Madison. Who is she?”

  Greg sat back, a myriad of expressions crossing his face. “She’s a super smart neurobiologist who studies kids with high IQs and special gifts. She studied me and my brothers in a kind of military school in Utah.” He gave quick coordinates, and Ryker typed them in.

  He read the screen, his instincts flaring hot and fast. “Those coordinates lead to a former military depot that was used for storing vehicles and weapons.” He scrolled down. “There was an explosion last year, and the place burned down.”

  Greg swallowed. “It was also a training and research facility. I lived there with my brothers.”

  Ryker narrowed his gaze and studied the kid. “You and your brothers.”

  “Yeah,” Greg said. Emotion, dark and deep, echoed in his low tone. He glanced toward the nearest exit, and his body stiffened.

  Being truthful scared the shit out of him, now, didn’t it? Ryker wanted to protect the boy, but first they needed answers. How could they get him to trust them?

  “Where are your brothers now?” Heath asked.

  “Dunno. You find Madison, and you’ll find them,” Greg said. Hope and despair crossed his face, and he visibly struggled to subdue all expression.

  Ryker sat back as images of the exploding army depot filled his screen. Could be a cover-up. “Since you really want us to find your brothers, why not give me their names? I could search for them and skip the doctor.” But he was sure as shit going to find that woman, and not just for Greg’s sake.

  Greg shook his head. “There’s no record of me or my brothers. You’ve already tried to track me down, right?”

  “Yeah,” Ryker said. How could the kids not exist on paper?

  “Find anything?”

  “No.”

  “Exactly.” Greg ran a hand through his shaggy hair. “Believe me, you won’t find them either.”