He swung around so she could see the mess that was his back, the numerous skin grafts and the terrible scars that remained of a once beautiful man. He spun back around, his face close to hers, his silver eyes, fierce and steady and totally implacable. “I saw what they did to you and you’re not going back there.”
“Stop it.” Her voice came out in a whisper. “Don’t say anything else.” He had reduced her to that helpless creature, crawling across the floor, determined she’d never beg for mercy, never give what was demanded of her. She saw herself through those silver eyes—not the soldier who commanded respect, but that animal, half-mad with pain and despair, torn and bleeding and without hope.
Of all the people in the world, it had to be Ken who saw the mess Brett had made of her body. I can keep this up all night, Mari; eventually you’ll give me what I want. It will just hurt a lot more, but I don’t mind that. Ashamed, she pulled the blanket closer around her as Brett’s words echoed in her mind. Of course he hadn’t touched her face. Whitney would have killed him, but sooner or later, Whitney’s threats wouldn’t be enough to deter Brett. In a way she felt sorry for him. Whitney had programmed him, turned him into an animal who no longer thought about right or wrong, only what he wanted—and he wanted Mari. He would be on the team that came for her, and he would kill anyone who stood in his way.
She reached down to touch her hip. There was a bandage there. They’d found and removed the tracking device Whitney had implanted. She should have known they would find it. She had been certain her team would be able to find her quickly, using that tracking system, but now they would have to rely on Whitney—or Abrams and his military contacts—and that would take some time. There were few trails leading to the GhostWalkers and no one carried identification. If they died during a mission, they were buried quietly, without public fanfare, because no one knew they existed.
Ken jerked down his shirt, covering the scars running down his belly, disappearing even lower into his jeans. He leaned over her, his hand spanning her throat, fingers stroking a caress over her silken skin. His whisper was soft, lips against her ear so that his breath was warm, fanning curls of heat through her body. “I don’t live by anybody else’s rules. I make up my own.”
She wrapped her fingers around his wrist, a bracelet that went halfway around, but her fingers dug into his skin, into the ridges of his scars as her lashes drifted down. “Don’t let anyone else see me. Especially not Briony.”
Ken closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against hers. It was sheer hell to be so close to her and not touch her. Even with blood and sweat and the drugs, her scent drove him crazy. Whitney’s experiment into pairing through scent was more than a success. But even more than the physical need, he felt the urge to protect her. Maybe it had been the sight of her broken and battered body when they’d cut off her clothes. Maybe it had been the sound of Nico and the surgeon swearing, or Jack’s hiss of rage. All he could remember was feeling the impact like a punch to his gut, and then later, when they’d rolled her over to examine her back, he felt his heart being ripped from his body.
He had known there were monsters in the world—he’d met a few, destroyed a few—but who would want to do this to a woman? Someone like his father. Abruptly he pulled his mind from going in that direction.
“Are you all right, Ken?” Jack asked, touching his arm.
“I swear, Jack, this is like going through it all again. First the deer and then Mari. I don’t think I’ll ever close my eyes again.”
“We’ve got to get out of here. We don’t dare stay any longer.”
“I’ll stay behind. You take her to a safe place and get some rest. I’ll make certain they can’t come looking.”
“You can’t kill them all, Ken. And in any case, we don’t know who the bad guys are. She said they weren’t there to kill the senator—that they were supposed to protect him. If the order came down that way, they’re no different than we are. They want her back because we don’t leave a GhostWalker behind.”
“One of them did this to her.”
“We don’t know which one.”
Ken straightened slowly and turned to face his brother. “She doesn’t want Briony to know.”
“Briony’s not a child. I don’t lie to her, not even for you, and you can’t ask me to, Ken.” Jack spread out his hands. “Let’s get her on the helicopter and we can sort all this out later. We’ll take her to the small house Lily rented for us and stay there a few hours. The van will meet us there and we can disappear with her.”
“Are you bringing Briony in?”
Jack shook his head. “It’s too dangerous. She’s pregnant and Whitney wants her. I’m not willing to risk her life, although she wants to see her sister. She’s staying with Lily now at the big house, and Kadan and Ryland’s team is guarding her while we make a run for it.”
“You mean while we figure out how best to use Mari in our little game with Whitney.”
Jack pushed the gurney toward the door, ignoring the bite in his brother’s voice. “She’ll go back the first chance she gets, Ken. You can’t trust her. You heard her. You saw her. She’s not Briony, as much as they look alike. This one is tough as nails and could rip your heart out if you take your eyes off of her. Don’t you forget that. At this point I wouldn’t trust her with Briony’s life, let alone yours.”
“I haven’t forgotten.” Ken slung his rifle around his neck and checked his guns and ammunition belt. “I just am not willing to turn her back over to whoever hurt her like that.”
“Don’t identify with her. She’s our prisoner. And she could easily cut your throat—or mine. We don’t know anything about her. She’s capable of running a con just like we are. She was trained as a soldier, so her first duty is to escape.”
“Copy that, Daddy,” Ken said.
Jack halted so abruptly Ken ran into the bed. Their eyes met, a slash of steel swords clashing over Mari’s head. “I’m going to look out for you, Ken, whether you like it or not. You think I don’t know how shook up you were looking at the deer carcasses? You’re identifying with them.”
“Maybe, but I’m not letting anyone take this woman back to Whitney.”
“If she goes back, we can follow her, rescue the others, and cap Whitney’s ass,” Jack pointed out. “It all sounds good to me.”
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a bloodthirsty son of a bitch?” Ken asked.
“Yes,” Jack assented. “More than once.”
“Well, it’s true.” Ken lifted Mari into his arms while Jack steadied her leg and took the medical rigging. The helicopter was a few yards away, Nico waiting, rifle ready as he searched the area around them for an enemy. “You always think in terms of killing, Jack. I thought once you were with Briony, you’d get out of that habit.”