Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11

K enya

The man was an arrogant asshole.

Opinionated.

Overconfident.

Someone who believed he could snap their fingers and get everything handed to him.

Beckham Kennedy was without a doubt the most infuriating man I'd ever met in my life.

Yet there was something appealing about him as well that continued to catch my attention and put me off my game. He was scared of nothing, acting as if he was invincible.

The entire situation remained like a beacon of red flags all banded together. Why were we alive? By all rights we shouldn't be. If the point in the attacks was to keep us on edge, under their reign of terror, well, it had certainly worked with me.

I'd never felt so far removed from my life, even when I'd basically started out from scratch in what seemed like two decades before.

Every detail of the last twenty-four hours had rooted itself in the forefront of my mind, horrific and bloody images playing out one after another. I felt a tremendous loss, including not having a weapon in my hand.

Something I'd been certain I'd never need to experience again.

I closed my eyes briefly, trying to ignore the tingles that had never left from the kiss inside the jet. He'd acted so possessive, as if after his saving and ‘protecting' me I owed him my full surrender. The bastard had another think coming.

The images shifted from his face to the bodies of the assailants that I'd seen.

Branded.

The crude markings had all the makings of a gang-related situation, but their actions said something else altogether. Yes, they'd obviously had extensive training but more than that, they'd been brainwashed into feeling nothing in the face of death. I'd seen it before, and they were some of the most dangerous soldiers out there.

They were similar in actions to the men I'd encountered overseas. Those soldiers had been far too sophisticated for the insurgent's level of intelligence. Given we'd been in position to gain very classified intel from our enemies at the time, I'd guess that's what the assassins had been after. The base had closed down shortly after that, which was why I'd been released from duty earlier than my tour of duty had required.

Maybe my commanding officers had feared the team had been compromised.

However, it wasn't the only time I'd seen the markings, although I couldn't remember if they were the same.

I continued to envision the ugly carving and knew it had been a product of my former nightmares. Try as I might, it was impossible to get the turn of events out of my mind. Even though I'd washed my hands a half dozen times, I could swear blood stained my fingers from working on his wound.

Even now, I stared at one hand, struggling with the images and thoughts. I could easily mind fuck myself if I wasn't careful. "Just stop," I huffed, taking a deep breath and holding it in. When I let it out, I decided to concentrate on the gorgeous scenery outside the glorious set of glass doors.

Rye, New Hampshire.

The small town was stunning by anyone's standards. While so much of the area was directly on the water, there was also a quaint downtown that drew in tourists, especially during the summer months.

I knew some about the location, which often competed for guests. However, I hadn't adequately envisioned the stunning shoreline, the water appearing crystalline from the glow of the early afternoon sun.

While there were homes of almost every size, the massive estates had the most land and privacy.

Not that it wasn't something I wouldn't have expected.

I stood in the expansive chef's kitchen by the set of sliding back doors leading out onto the largest party deck I'd ever seen in my life. There were various areas where guests could group and enjoy a drink or the ocean front scenery. There were two fireplaces, one on each end, at least two fire pits incorporated in the stunning granite coffee tables. A large trellis covered one section that had to be thirty by forty feet, the netting on top providing shade and some protection against rain.

The area of beach was impressive and from where I stood, I could only see one house in the distance on a point leading further out into the ocean. While I'd yet to be shown the rest of the estate, sequestered into this room as soon as we'd arrived, I could only imagine how stunningly gorgeous every room was, including the art and other decorations.

I'd grown up around money of course, but my childhood home had been dark and foreboding in comparison. This house was light and bright and welcoming.

Unlike the situation.

I held my arms, another chill settling in.

Yes, I'd been terrified at the airport. I had been before, but I'd been able to more easily hide my emotions or maybe I'd just been in shock. Whatever the case, my stomach remained in knots, a headache pounding behind my eyes.

We'd been met at the airport by a swarm of men, all carrying weapons even if most had tried to hide them from the naked eye. I'd counted eight vehicles taking us to our destination, more soldiers already positioned outside the house upon our arrival.

Since then, I could hear comings and goings, the booming voices of several men, some of them quite animated. Beckham had been a consummate host, ensuring I had whatever I'd wanted to drink, telling me I could help myself to anything in the refrigerator or cabinets. I had found a bottle of whiskey, which wasn't my normal drink but, on this day, and after everything that had occurred in less than twenty-four hours, only something hard would satisfy.

Only it hadn't.

All the liquor had done was left a bad taste in my mouth.

Still, I turned away, staring at the glass in hopes it would give me answers.

Or maybe salvation.

I was slowly spiraling into a dark place, something I'd promised myself wouldn't happen again. There'd been no need. Then the monsters had appeared, the ones that I knew existed for real, not those hiding in the shadows of our mind.

I recognized the brand, although I was trying to remember if it had been while serving overseas. Most of our missions had been in the dark and we hadn't taken the time to learn anything from their dead bodies. There'd been no need. Then why was I certain the situations were similar?

I pulled the glass to my lips once again, needing fresh air or I might pass out. Maybe he had rules for me to follow, but I didn't know and didn't care. We were surrounded by an army so I doubted that anyone could get near the place.

I'd underestimated the man's power, not because he hadn't appeared ruthless enough but because he also had a boyish charm that seemed out of place. His grin was adorable, the way the light refracted off his hair highlighting the gold streaks, and the dimples were pinchable.

Only his eyes reflected the brutal man he'd been turned into.

I'd also seen tremendous concern in them as well almost every time he'd gazed at me. I refreshed my drink, hoping it would finally calm my nerves. At this point, I wasn't certain anything could.

He was lucky he was alive, the wound deep but certainly not life threatening. It had felt natural playing his nurse, the closeness we'd both felt on the short plane ride not easy to explain.

Including to myself.

I had no idea why I wasn't doing everything I could to escape. Granted, my senses were dulled, my mind one big blurry haze. Maybe I'd be a screaming lunatic after being attacked twice in two hours. I should call and warn Janie. Whoops. I didn't have my phone.

Plus, I doubted a single one of the assassins remained in Maine. They'd all followed us here. Of course they knew where everyone in the family lived. They had to. Maybe not. Oh, I hated being so far out of sorts.

As I opened the door, I wasn't certain how to process the events. It was more like an action movie than dealing with real life.

And I suspected Beckham wasn't used to experiencing anything like what he was going through. The air was cool, but the sun was warm enough to keep another chill from adding a layer to the first. I moved through the beautiful sets of furniture, still marveling people actually lived like this.

While I'd told Beckham that he was an arrogant ass, he wasn't stuck up as if he thought everyone else was beneath him. Although I wasn't going to entertain the thought that I knew him at all. He could be hiding behind whatever mask he wanted to.

I noticed a group of shadows, a room full of soldiers. Even though the sun was still high enough in the sky to cause a glare on the various windowpanes, I felt he was watching me, every step I took and every sip of my drink.

I wasn't good at flirting, but I had to admit, teasing him my way was a foil to the horrors we'd been through. It gave me some sense of normalcy, including dipping my finger into the whiskey and sliding the long digit into my mouth. As I sucked, I closed my eyes on purpose. It was ridiculous, the behavior akin to some high school kid but the few moments allowed a sense of calm.

A few minutes later, I headed to the railing, the call of the ocean much more important. It also represented everything I might lose. The breeze was light, the view incredible, and as I pushed loose strands of hair behind my ear, there was nothing I wanted more than to sit in the sand thinking about nothing. The one thing I enjoyed about this view as opposed to the one I had in Camden was the easy access to the beach.

I pulled off my shoes, laughing at my surprise at being able to balance with a drink in my hand. I guess it was good to see I could still amuse myself since I was normally clumsy when on one foot.

Unable to help myself, I headed to the stairs, walking down until I was able to soak my feet into the cool sand. The ocean had always been my respite, my happy place and while I couldn't say I was joyful right now, I was okay with being safe.

Were we safe?

I walked toward the water, half expecting a soldier would fly in my direction. That didn't happen, although two of them did flank me on opposite sides of the beach, acting as if they were statues. No, they reminded me of the Buckingham Palace guards who never blinked, never moved. I had a sudden urge to run toward them, fanning my hand in front of them.

But I refrained, wondering if they'd pull out a gun instead. I was obviously in need of rest and maybe some food. As the froth of the water washed up to my toes, I felt a couple of tears falling. My strained emotional level had to be from exhaustion.

After a few seconds, I moved back to a nice soft spot on the sand and sat down, bending and crossing my legs. And for the second time since I'd met the man, I allowed the tears to fall.

Beckham

Fucking hours had passed since we'd returned to New Hampshire, enough that I was antsy especially given the sun was slowly fading, twilight soon to fall.

I was even more pissed off than before, likely because no answers had been found even though James and another one of my computer experts had been working nonstop since returning to try to find anything on the brand.

A full fucking house.

I didn't even like parties, including those for or with my family. They were too regimented, too… Maybe I just didn't large crowds inside my home.

That's likely why the moment Kenya had walked out onto the deck, I'd moved to the doors, watching her. Sure, I had guards ensuring that she wouldn't be attacked from land, sea, or air but that didn't mean I wasn't still troubled by the events of the last two days. At this point, I believed anything could happen.

After tending to my wound on the jet, putting the best dressing on it I'd ever had, she'd sat back in her seat saying nothing else. It had been the same while we'd been driven here. Other than noticing she seemed pleased with the surroundings, she'd had no expression on her face.

That troubled me significantly. I certainly didn't need her to go into the full-blown effects of shock.

"What do you know about that woman, son?" my father asked as soon as he realized I was studying her.

"That woman has a name. Kenya Markham. Try and remember that."

He glared at me as if I'd kicked him in the balls. "Don't get fresh with me. Just answer the goddamn question."

"I know enough to accept that she's a badass." I was able to joke even though none of this was a joking matter.

"That's what bothers me. Camden told me how well trained she appears to be."

"Well, given the fact she was in the Marines, I guess so. What are you getting at? That she somehow orchestrated the explosion at the studio or perhaps she's in charge of the group of assassins inside that abandoned building that appeared eager to die. Or maybe she was responsible for the exact location where the fuckers would trap us using a fucking missile, which forced us to suddenly find her bed and breakfast out of the blue."

Sure, my dad had excellent instincts, but I was at the point I wasn't going to accept his criticism.

He stuck his finger in my face. "Stranger things have happened, son. Or don't you remember?"

The bastard had actually decided to throw in my face I'd trusted someone against his wishes, which in turn had almost gotten our entire family killed. That had been when I was barely eighteen, which now seemed like a hundred years ago. "Don't do that shit, Pops. This has nothing to do with that incident."

"Uh-huh. Well, I thought it taught you a lesson. Deception is easy when you want to believe in someone."

"Believe in someone? What I want is not to be treated like some fucking idiot."

"Then don't act like one."

I'd never hit my father because I'd always known that the moment I did, I'd have two broken arms and my fingers crushed to the point they'd become unusable. For all his love of family, he refused to tolerate anyone's bullshit, including that of his own sons.

"Why don't we all take a deep breath. This has rattled the entire family." I glanced at my brother, Sean, who'd made the declaration and sighed.

"She's not behind this shit," I continued. "Where are we on the goddamn branding?"

"These assassins have been spotted before," Declan told me. He was damn good at research, which was why I'd contacted him.

"Where?"

"Various locations across the United States, Europe, South America. They get around."

"Shit," I hissed. "They are larger in numbers than I thought and very well organized." My brother nodded. "We need to find out if there's a pattern for their attacks."

"Already thought of it," Declan continued. "Nothing concrete at this point."

"See, Pops?" I snarled. "This has nothing to do with Kenya."

"Maybe not. However, I'm going to have her checked out and before you say anything, we can't take any of this at face value. By all rights you and the rest of your motley crew should have died during one of those attacks."

Pops thought it was funny to call us that. He knew how talented my men were. In truth, he was envious I'd used incentives, not brutality, to earn loyalty. "How about this, Dad. Did you find anything out about the brand that Declan didn't find out?"

"Nothing earth shattering yet, son. These things take time."

He was lying to me. What the hell was he doing at this point? I knew better than to get into it right now.

"I'm not sure we have time," I told him.

"Is she your permanent guest?" Declan asked. He had a drink in his hand, guzzling it down like everyone else. It would seem everyone was turning this into a goddamn social hour. All I wanted was to take another shower and try to regroup until the morning. Sure, that wasn't typical behavior for me but at this point, nothing seemed atypical.

"She's a guest as long as she's in danger. And don't go getting any ideas, brother of mine. She's off limits." I pointed my finger at him and my other younger brother. "That goes for the both of you."

"Oh," Sean growled. "Big he-man claims the little lady."

"Who can handle herself," Declan added.

As I looked at him, he shrugged. "I hear things."

Uh-huh. It was likely Jeff had spilled the beans about her rather unusual traits.

"Just do your jobs and keep going on the insurance claim. Keep digging about the brand. I want additional soldiers surrounding our other businesses. If this joker wants to play a game, then fuck him."

"I have a call out to someone who might be able to shed some light on what we're dealing with." Pops slapped me on the back.

Usually, I didn't take his assistance kindly, but I was too damn tired to care at this point. Maybe we needed all the help we could get. "Fine. We'll regroup tomorrow. I plan on going hunting. You didn't hear anything from our sources either?"

"There is buzz but not enough to warrant a full interrogation just yet."

"That's not good enough, Pops. We killed twenty men who were happy to die for the cause. And no, they weren't any single nationality. None had any identification. The vehicles they used, if not torched, gave nothing but they were right there in our faces, as if laughing at us. I need to know why, and I don't give a shit who I need to rattle to find out. I will. So you can warn your informants or not. I really don't give a shit. I will do what's necessary to keep this regime afloat. My way. Now, since that woman did save my life at one point today and I dragged her away from her entire world, I think I'll go ensure she's not going to have a goddamn panic attack. We are done here."

I wasn't usually so aggressive, but it had been a shit of a last few days, and the last thing I would tolerate was being second guessed by a member of my own family.

As I threw open the door to the outside, I allowed my mind to try to process just what the hell I was going to do with her. She wasn't the kind of woman who could be kept in the dark for long nor would she take kindly to being held a prisoner just like she'd accused me of doing.

I took my drink with me, even refilling it at the outside bar. It was obvious someone had told my housekeeper to open up everything in the house. Perhaps they believed I was here for the long haul given my arrival with a guest. At this point, I couldn't be certain we'd be safe here.

Leaning over the railing, I studied her for a full two minutes. Kenya was sitting on the sand with her legs crossed, staring out at the ocean as if she'd find the answers she was seeking.

Her quietness was as unnerving as when she tossed her attitude and hatred toward me. Then again, my possessiveness was something it would seem she wasn't used to. Or perhaps whoever the asshole was back in New York, the one I knew had soured her on men was the real reason behind her guarded, jaded actions.

One thing was for certain.

She was hiding something other than details about her illustrious military career, and my gut told me that something was going to come back and bite her.

"Just who are you, little fighter?"

As I walked down the stairs, not bothering to remove my shoes, I had a feeling our being brought together was a sick twist of fate, the kind of thing that would ultimately destroy us.

Yet we were drawn to each other in an inexplicable way.

And God help me, I wanted her.

It was quite possible nothing would stop me from keeping her.

Not even the lovely lady herself.

She slowly turned her head and the connection was instant, white-hot and crackling my skin. Yet I also felt her anger and uncertainty even from being fifty yards away.

"We might have something on the brand," Jeff said from behind me.

"It can wait."

"I think you want to see this."

Hissing, I turned around, glaring at my lieutenant. "Fine, but after, I want everyone out of my house that doesn't need to be here. Do I make myself clear?"

He saluted. "Yes, Commander."

I stormed up the stairs, taking a few seconds to glance back at her again. At least she seemed at peace. For now.

I headed back into the office, sweeping a glare around to everyone in the room. James had brought his laptop in and now he stood over my desk, staring at the screen, my two brothers looking over his shoulder. As I approached, I could tell they were bothered by whatever they were reading.

"What did you find?" I asked.

James appeared startled when he lifted his head. "After hitting a million dead ends, I managed to hack into a computer that had a ten-second lockdown, but I was lucky enough to capture some shit you won't believe."

"Were you caught?"

"Undoubtedly. The best security I've seen but my cloaking device is better."

"Let's hope. CIA?"

"Fuck, no. Whoever these guys are, they call themselves the Brotherhood."

"What?"

"Yeah, and I can tell they're bad-asses themselves," James added, his tone full of admiration. "Just look."

He turned the laptop around to face me and as I glanced at the screen, I tried to comprehend what I was seeing.

"How did you find this?" I asked, studying the two side-by-side photographs.

"I put the photograph we had into every database I've ever hacked into. Somehow, I navigated to the dark web, which as you well know is a scary place. Anyway, I talked to a dude Joe knows, the guy eventually leading me to a forbidden IP address."

Joe was barely out of high school and had navigated the thick walls of the dark web since he'd learned to walk and talk. James and Joe, or as I affectionately referred to them, J & J, were a formidable team that I'd put up against anyone.

But they weren't infallible, especially when they were in a hurry.

"The brands are exactly the same." James was certainly full of knowledge, his excitement increasing.

"How long ago did this happen?"

"A lot longer than you might think, which means these dudes have been building an army for quite some time."

"What makes you think that?"

He leaned over, forcing another screen to the front and center. I was suddenly reading what appeared to be some kind of report, almost like one given in the military. However, it wasn't making any sense.

"The Death Squad? What the fuck is this?"

James sighed. "All I managed to get before I was shut down was that they're supposedly some worldwide operation of powerful people."

I read the two paragraphs over before I turned my head toward my father. He'd been around long enough he might have a clue what the fuck I was looking at. "What do you make of this?"

He stepped forward and within seconds, I had a sense he did know something that I wouldn't like.

"What?" I demanded.

"I'm going to make a couple phone calls from my house."

That meant he needed privacy. "What are you hiding?"

"I'm not hiding anything, son. I simply need to confirm a few details. Take care of your lady friend."

As he walked out of the room, I shifted my attention from Sean to Declan, both just as confused as I was.

"Hey, boss man. She's gone," Jeff said.

"What do you mean gone?" I spun around and scanned the entire shoreline.

"She was there when I looked thirty seconds ago. Then she wasn't."

"Fuck. Get more soldiers down to the water." I dropped my drink onto the desk and flew from the room onto the deck.

If anything happened to her, I would hunt down and slaughter every single human being involved.