Chapter One

Seven

The pounding on the door would not fucking quit and the longer it went on, the more pissed off he became.

Why couldn’t people just leave him the fuck alone? It wasn’t like he was social anyway, so what was with his sudden popularity?

Bang, bang, bang.

“For fuck’s sake!” he growled to the empty room and rolled stiffly over in the king-sized bed to flop onto his back. The ceiling fan in his bedroom circled slowly overhead, making shadows as it hit the morning light filtering through his window. Someday, he was going to buy fucking blackout curtains.

His head pounded and he snagged the ibuprofen from the bedside table and tossed three back with a chug of water from the glass he had sitting there. After his capture, his mobility was a bit fucked up at times and he got a headache every once in a while, but overall, he was recovering and that was all that mattered.

It took another moment before he felt able to sit up on the edge of the bed.

A motion at his bedroom door brought his head up and he grimaced.

“Someone’s at the door,” Ice said, standing in a pair of boxer briefs, scratching the hair on his bare chest, with his shoulder-length blond hair loose and a bit wild looking.

“Probably someone selling something,” Seven croaked.

“I don’t think so, they’ve been pounding for a while.”

“And you didn’t look out and see who it was?”

The former Navy Seal shook his head, cracked his neck, and disappeared down the hall.

Seven snorted after the man he’d served with. It had been one of life’s nicer moments to meet Ice again at a party a few years back. They’d quickly reconnected, and it had been easy to stay in touch since they’d discovered they both did mercenary-type work. Now more than ever, Seven needed Ice’s take on his current situation, hence the reason he’d asked Ice to meet up for drinks last night.

“What do you need?” Ice asked, eyeing him over the rim of an IPA.

“I’m starting to suspect that Lisa wasn’t taken and killed by a sex trafficking ring.”

“Okay,” Ice said slowly. “So, back off the sex trafficking and start on sex offenders?”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m doing.”

“Then what’s wrong?” Ice asked.

“I feel like I’m chasing my fucking tail.” Seven grimaced and took a swallow of beer. “I need a private investigator to start looking into people.”

Ice drained the bottle before placing it on the table. “I know of a few.”

“I was hoping you would.”

“I’ll make some calls.”

The bathroom door closed down the hall and Seven flopped back on his bed. He was beginning to think Lisa’s killer was someone she knew. The thought soured his gut and left a bitter taste in—

Bang, bang, bang.

Making a sound through his teeth, Seven rolled to his side and slapped the intercom on the wall near the bed that connected to a speaker on the front porch.

“I’m not buying anything,” he snarled.

“Shane?”

His baby brother’s trembling voice snapped him upright in bed.

“I’m coming.” Seven released the button and launched out of bed. Hopping on one foot and then the other to pull on his jeans, he ignored the stab of pain in his left leg. Snatching his phone off the nightstand, he tucked it into his front pocket before yanking at the zipper on his jeans. Ignoring the ache in his leg, he hurried down the long hallway to the living room. His bare feet sank into the thick cream-colored carpet as he stepped down into the room and skirted the messy bedding hanging half on and half off the couch where Ice had slept.

Reaching the entryway, he flipped the deadbolt and yanked the door open.

His seventeen-year-old brother stood on the front steps. Seven darted a look behind Joshua—for one or both of their deadbeat parents—but the stoop stood empty.

“Where’s Carla?” He closed a gentle hand around his brother’s arm and pulled him out of the cold and into the warm house. Even in Ventura County, California, February was chilly and Joshua was shivering.

Seven pulled him closer and rubbed his bare arms. That was when he really got a look at his brother. Dark hair fell into his scared blue eyes. He only wore a t-shirt, jeans, and…

“Where the hell are your shoes?” Seven frowned at his brother’s bare feet.

Joshua’s teeth chattered and Seven saved further questions. He turned his brother toward the couch and bundled him up in the bedding and blankets.

Crouching in front of Joshua, Seven caught his brother’s hands and rubbed at them, trying to bring warmth into the cold, trembling digits. Fury sent a charge of anger into his chest but he was careful to keep his face and eyes calm.

“Who spent the night?” Joshua pulled the blankets tighter when Seven released his hands.

“Ice.”

“Really?” Joshua looked around before he tucked his head into the blankets and let out a soft sigh.

When his brother’s shivers increased, Seven hurried to the fireplace and lit the wood. The dry kindling quickly caught fire and in a matter of moments, the fire crackled loudly. Stalking to the thermostat on the wall, he cranked it up to eighty just to knock out any lingering chill.

“Got any food?”

“Hang on,” Seven said and left the room. His wide kitchen was a mixture of marble countertops and stainless-steel appliances. Pulling a plate from the cupboard next to the stove, he placed it on the island-type bar before getting out the leftover pizza from the fridge.

Where the hell was Carla? And why had Joshua come clear across the city in bare fucking feet? How did Joshua get here if his mother didn’t bring him?

Most importantly, where the fuck was their good-for-nothing sperm donor? If that son of a bitch was out on a bender, Seven would make sure he regretted it. He’d already threatened to take Joshua from them if they didn’t clean up their act. Seven jammed four pieces of pizza in the microwave and stood staring as the glass dish spun.

He blamed his dad and stepmother for what happened to Lisa. If they had been watching his little sister, or hell, given her the attention she needed, Lisa wouldn’t have been taken.

And murdered.

He fisted the paper towel in his hand and when the microwave beeped, he pulled the plate out and headed back into the living room.

Ice was standing next to the living room window and threw him a quick frowning look when he entered.

Joshua had slipped sideways on the couch, his knees pulled up, and burrowed in Ice’s blankets. The boy’s eyes were closed—exhaustion etched his young face.

“Joshua.”

“Yeah.” His brother jerked upright with a scared look in his eyes.

“Hey,” Seven soothed; hurrying to the couch, he sat down and brushed the hair from Joshua’s face.

“Who the fuck hit you?” Ice snapped.

Seven swept his eyes over Joshua’s face and that was when he saw the bruise on his brother’s cheekbone. The mark ran upward from his cheek and ended at his temple.

“What happened?”

Joshua pulled away and took the plate. Ignoring them both, his brother snatched up the pizza and wolfed it down like a starved animal.

Ice met his eyes over Joshua’s head. His friend’s nostrils flared and Ice lifted both hands and mimicked squeezing someone’s neck.

Seven agreed, but at the moment, Joshua needed a calming influence and as much as Seven liked Ice, his friend was not the calm sort.

Seven leaned his elbows on his knees and gazed at the thick carpet beneath his bare feet.

“How did you get the bruise?”

Nothing but silence followed his question. Joshua continued to eat with ravenous hunger and Seven had to wonder how long it had been since the boy had last eaten.

The doorbell rang and he squinted at Joshua.

“Did someone follow you here?”

“Um…no.” Joshua frowned, looking scared.

“Just stay here.” Seven stood and strode to the side table near the door and pulled out the Glock he kept stored in the drawer.

Ice stalked to the couch where Joshua sat and plucked a .41 Magnum from between the cushions.

“Really?” Seven hissed at Ice, eyeing the gun.

“What? I didn’t know he was going to show up,” Ice argued under his breath.

Rolling his eyes, Seven checked the clip in his own weapon and tucked it into the back of his jeans before looking through the peephole.

“Shit, stand down,” he muttered.

Ice sank back out of view from the door. “Wait.”

Seven shot Ice a look, but the man disappeared down the hallway.

Seven sighed and yanked open the door. “What do you want?”

“Is that any way to greet a friend?” Link said with a smirk before striding inside like he lived there.

“Please, come in,” Seven said sarcastically and shut the front door.

What the fuck did Pegasus want now?

“What are you doing here?” Seven asked.

“Can’t I stop by and see a friend?” Link asked.

The guy dropped by periodically to check on his recovery progress after being nearly beaten to death. And Seven appreciated it, really, but Link was bordering at the hovering mark.

“I’m fine, before you ask,” Seven said.

Link quirked one eyebrow at him. It was a silent I don’t believe you and Seven gnashed his teeth.

“Who are you?” Joshua’s soft words snapped Link’s attention to the couch.

Almost swallowed up by Ice’s blankets, Joshua had been hidden from view.

Link tossed Seven a quick wide-eyed look and then turned to Joshua. Seven watched as Link changed from the hard-as-nails operative to a softer, more approachable guy. It was amazing to see. “I’m Lincoln Beckett, but people just call me Link. And you are?”

Joshua gazed at Link, eyes wide, seeming to have swallowed his tongue.

“This is my little brother, Joshua,” Seven supplied when Joshua seemed to be at a loss for words.

It didn’t last long though.

Joshua shot Seven a look. “Why are all your friends so hot?”

Link barked out with laughter.

“Please, for the love of God, save me,” Seven muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose.

The powers that be must have heard him because his cell phone buzzed in his pocket. He tugged it out and his anger evaporated like a fucking miracle when he read the snarky text.

Hunter: “The Backdoor Bar, 10:00 PM tonight, be there or be a dud.”

His smile grew. Sure, it was later tonight, but he was saved.

“I’m no dud.”He fired back the text, tucked his phone away, and turned with a sigh to his overly crowded living room. First, he’d get rid of Link. That was easy enough, and then he’d drive Joshua home and see what the fuck was up with their parents before heading off to hook up with Hunter.

The hallway that Ice had disappeared down stayed empty and Seven suspected that Ice was long gone by now.

No matter, Ice would find him a private investigator and he’d finally get his hands on the man who’d killed Lisa.