Chapter Twenty

Hayden was still shaking.

Wyatt was or had been alive when he’d left those messages.

Hayden wasn’t only distressed because of Wyatt. No, the main reason was because Jaxon had lied.

Lied multiple times to his face.

He settled farther into the cracked booth’s vinyl seat of the off-the-beaten-path diner and kept his eyes glued to his phone. He gave his order to the waitress, but had no appetite. Sipping the hot coffee that she kept refilling in his mug helped with the cold. He couldn’t get warm even though he’d grabbed his coat when he escaped out one of the two back entrances.

He’d memorized the security code when Felix had punched it in and he’d waited for everyone but Brick to go to sleep. Brick was on watch, but the man couldn’t guard every single exit and it had only been a matter of timing the man’s route before Hayden was able to get out and reset the alarm.

Beforehand, it had taken every single bit of his acting skills to act like everything was okay. At first, he’d walked on legs that felt like wood into the bathroom and sat there for longer than he should have because Harrison had knocked on the door. A moment later, he’d come out and made an excuse that his stomach was feeling unwell.

From there, it hadn’t taken much planning because none of them expected him to take off. That had been just after bedtime. It was dark now, probably after midnight, but he didn’t check his phone.

He gazed blankly out the window as the sun began to rise and he wondered how many hours had passed. The freeway traffic in the distance made a muffled sound and he sighed. Making the decision he was putting off, he dug in his coat.

Just as he pulled out his phone, it rang. Jaxon’s name flashed and he sent the call to voicemail before he flipped to his email app.

He scrolled through and found the email address he wanted before typing quickly and hitting send before he could change his mind. Several moments later, his phone lit up with the incoming call.

“Hayden?”

Hayden swallowed. “Yes. I…I need your help.”

“Where’s Jaxon?”

“Him? No matter how many times a snake sheds its skin, a snake is still a snake,” he choked out the words on a ragged breath.

“Give me the address.”

Hayden rattled off the nearby street corner about a block from the diner.

“I’ll be right there,” Wrath said and hung up the phone.

Wrapping up in his coat, Hayden paid his bill without eating and stepped outside. Sticking to the early morning shadows, he walked toward the corner. He ignored the tears dripping down his face and didn’t even bother wiping them away because they’d only be replaced by more.

He was so fucking confused that Wyatt was alive, but beyond that, his brother’s words didn’t make sense. He’d grown so used to hating Wyatt for his dirty dealings working for a crime boss, so he never expected to feel so much hearing his brother’s voice. Dashing at his cheeks, he stumbled, caught himself, and made it to the building on the corner. He knew the key Wyatt spoke about and it was hanging from a chain back at his place. He could still remember the day Jaxon had given the key to him.

“What’s this?”

“Keep it. It’s just something I picked up,” Jaxon had said gruffly.

Hayden had smiled and hung the chain with the key in his room, thinking of how thoughtful Jaxon was.

As soon as they reached home…scratch that, Jaxon’s house, because he sure the fuck wasn’t going to stay there longer than it took him to pack up his stuff.

He had one problem. Jaxon was the one that knew the location of the safety deposit box and he wasn’t going to talk to Jaxon.

That was where Wrath came in. The assassin could get the location of the bank from Jaxon.

What was in that box that Wyatt needed him to see and what dirt had his brother been trying to keep from him? Wyatt had said that he needed to disappear for real this time, but Hayden wasn’t going to let that happen until he got some damn answers.

Crap, that meant he’d need at some point to talk to Jaxon because according to Wyatt, Jaxon knew what was going on. But right then, he couldn’t even contemplate speaking with Jaxon. The hurt went too deep and the pain had settled in his chest, like a constant ache that wouldn’t go away no matter how much he tried to slow his breathing. At least the tears had stopped by the time Wrath reached him.

Instead of demanding answers, the assassin took hold of his bicep and guided him to a dark-colored SUV parked a block from them.

Wrath blasted the heater after getting him into the vehicle and slid behind the wheel. The man pulled away from the curb.

They ended up in an apartment parking lot, and Wrath urged him out of the car, up the stairs, and inside a warm apartment.

Hayden walked to the window and stood gazing out while Wrath did something in the kitchen.

“Start from the beginning,” Wrath said, drawing his gaze from the window and the deserted street outside to the man who stood across the small room from him. The apartment, that Hayden suspected was where Wrath stayed when he wasn’t killing criminals of the worst kind, was relatively nice.

When a cup of black coffee appeared in front of him, Hayden wrapped his cold hands around the mug. And after taking a sip of the bitter brew, he pulled out his phone and played the voice messages from Wyatt.

“Okay, I take it you didn’t know that he was alive.”

“No, I was told he was dead.”

“Who told you that?”

“Jaxon.”

Wrath grunted.

“What?”

“Nothing. So, your brother is a criminal.”

“Yeah, he embezzled money from the Moss crime boss he worked for and when he was caught, he was killed.” Hayden waved his hand. “Or not, apparently.”

“So maybe he went into WITSEC?”

“What?” Why that thought had never dawned on him, Hayden couldn’t say. Since the phone call, he’d thought Wyatt had been hiding out somewhere, running from Andrew Moss, and his focus had primarily been on the fact that Jaxon had kept his brother’s secret.

“You know, witness protection?” Wrath said dryly.

“I know what WITSEC is,” he snapped, irritated, and then sighed when Wrath lifted one eyebrow.

The man was gorgeous and there was really no other way to describe Wrath. With his steel blue eyes, shoulder-length hair, and chiseled jaw, Wrath could have stepped out of a movie—like one of those films where hot, ripped men were the focus.

“Maybe your brother’s innocent?”

Shock tightened his chest and he couldn’t formulate words to save his life. His phone rang before either of them could say another word and Jaxon’s name flashed on the screen. He looked away from the screen and once again to the window.

“Not going to answer it?”

“I can’t talk to him right now,” he said on a half sob.

“Want me to see what’s going on?”

His eyes burned and he nodded instead of answering. He couldn’t speak to Jaxon or hear his voice right then.

As it was, he was holding on by a thread and he knew just the sound of Jaxon’s voice…

Would break him.