Maya Banks - No Place to Run

“Are you through, hon?”

Sophie blinked and looked up to see Marlene standing in front of her, her hands outstretched to take the tray.

“Yes, thank you, Mrs. Kelly. I appreciate the food. It was wonderful.”

Marlene smiled warmly. “Such a polite young woman. But please, call me Marlene. No one calls me Mrs. Kelly, well unless they’re telemarketers. Most folks just call me Marlene or Mom.”

She took the tray and Sophie listed to the side, no longer able to keep her head up. Sam had put several pillows behind her and to the side and she snuggled under the warm quilt. No one seemed to be paying her much attention now, so she drifted, barely listening to what was going on around her.

SAM watched as Sophie’s head dipped lower and lower, until her cheek nestled against the pillow. His mother was also watching, and as soon as Sophie’s eyes closed, she marched across the room, her eyes narrowed and fixed on him.

“You’ll tell me what on earth is going on here,” she said in a low, determined voice. “And I want all of it, not the watered-down version your brothers already gave me.”

Sam expelled his breath in a long sigh. He rubbed his hand tiredly through his hair and glanced up to see his dad looking at him with the same intensity that was in his mother’s gaze.

Hell.

“She’s carrying my grandchild,” Frank said.

Trust Dad to get straight to the point. He never was one for pussyfooting around.

“It’s very likely she’s carrying my child,” Sam said carefully.

Marlene frowned. “Shouldn’t you know?” She glanced back at Sophie, her frown deepening.

“Don’t go jumping to conclusions, Ma. And don’t think badly of Sophie. Not yet. There’s too much I don’t know. She deserves the benefit of the doubt until I find out what the hell is going on here.”

If that didn’t make him a flaming hypocrite, he didn’t know what did. He didn’t want anyone else disrespecting her or developing a bad opinion, but it didn’t stop him from being suspicious and cautious with her.

He’d recognized early on that she had a lot of power where he was concerned, and that didn’t sit well with him at all.

“Then tell me what you know,” Marlene said fiercely.

Knowing it wasn’t going to make him look good in front of his parents, he still told them the unvarnished truth about his mission to Mexico and his involvement with Sophie. He left out the part about killing the assassin, but judging by the look on his dad’s face, he’d figured out that much. No need to horrify his mother more than necessary.

“Now listen to me, Ma,” Sam said. “This is serious. Our entire family could be in danger. I need you and Dad to do exactly what I tell you. No arguing.” He looked pointedly at his father. “I can’t do my job if I’m worried that you aren’t safe.”

Frank put his arm around Marlene and drew her into his side. “What do you want us to do?”

Sean, who’d been standing just to the side, walked forward so he could be included in the conversation.

“My teams are due to arrive shortly. One will be assigned solely to keep you safe. All of you. No one moves without my men’s say-so, and that includes Rusty.”

Sean scowled. “I’ll keep the little twit in line.”

“Sean,” Marlene admonished with a sharp frown.

Sean’s expression didn’t change.

“Until this is resolved, everyone will have to sit tight.”

Frank cast a look over at Sophie. “What about you and Sophie? What are you going to do?”

“Sam, we have a problem.”

Sam turned to see Donovan standing behind him, holding the KGI secure phone in his hand.

“What’s up?”

“Resnick just buzzed me wanting to know why we were accessing their files on Mouton’s assassin.”

Sam’s brow furrowed. “What on earth for? Not like we don’t rifle through their database all the time. You didn’t hack into any classified shit, did you?”

Donovan didn’t even respond to the crack. “He wants to talk to you ASAP.”

Apprehension seeped down his neck. The last thing they needed was Resnick poking his nose into this.

Glancing apologetically at his mom and dad and Sean, Sam walked back into the kitchen with Donovan on his heels. Garrett must have seen the exodus, because he appeared just seconds behind them.

Sam took the phone from Donovan and put it to his ear.

“Resnick.”

“Sam, what the hell’s going on down there? What is Mouton’s assassin doing in your neck of the woods?”

“I was hoping you could tell me.”

Resnick snorted. “Don’t play that game with me. Mouton’s daughter’s gone missing. Any chance she’s with you?”

Sam frowned and turned so he could look at his brothers. “Why would the CIA be interested in Mouton’s daughter?”

“I’m not here to answer questions, Sam. I’m here to ask them.”

Anger fizzed through Sam’s blood, and he gripped the phone tighter. “Listen to me. I’m not playing games here. That bastard is after my family. I don’t give a damn about the CIA right now, you got me? This will be your only heads-up. I’m going to do what I need to do to ensure he never touches anyone close to me. The best thing you can do is stay the hell out of my way.”

There was a long silence. “Sam, I need to talk to her. It’s important. If she’s with you, we need to question her. Mouton’s missing too. He hasn’t been spotted since KGI took down that arms shipment five months ago. We think . . . we think he was working with plutonium and that he had a supply. His scientists were working on a way to store it for longer periods of time in a stable environment.”

“Shit. Why the hell do you think she’d know anything about it?”

“I don’t. But she disappeared the same time he disappeared, and his brother has expended a lot of resources in his search for the daughter and suddenly an assassin turns up on your doorstep? He wants her back for a reason. I’m thinking maybe she either has something they want or she has information they don’t want getting out.”

“Good luck finding her then,” Sam said.

Resnick swore long and violently. “Goddamn it, Sam. Work with me here. Don’t treat me like I’m an idiot. Set up a meeting for me. You choose the location. I’ll come alone. You have my word. This is too important. If Mouton has his hands on plutonium, a lot of people are going to die.”

Sam rubbed his palm over his face and closed his eyes as the throb of a headache began at the base of his skull. Was Sophie still hiding shit from him? Had she been truthful about anything?

He glanced at his brothers to see both staring hard at him, questions in their eyes. Holding their gaze, he finally spoke back into the phone.

“Only you, Resnick. You break your word, you’ll never get another goddamn thing from KGI. We clear? I’ll call you with location and time.”

Before Resnick could respond, Sam disconnected and slapped the phone onto the counter.

“What the hell was that all about?” Garrett demanded.

“Resnick wants to question Sophie.”

“About what?” Donovan asked.

“Apparently Mouton has gone underground. The brother appears to be running things, which explains why his personal bodyguard came and not one of Mouton’s. He disappeared the same day Sophie did her flit. The CIA has a hard-on for Sophie. They think she can give them information.”

“And you’re agreeing to the meet,” Garrett said.

Sam nodded. “Yeah, I am. No point in pissing off Resnick. I want information too. If she’s holding out on us, we need to know. I’m not taking any chances with those bastards and our family.”

Both Garrett and Donovan nodded their agreement.

Sam checked his watch. “The teams will be here soon. Mom and Dad have agreed to do what we ask. We’ll divide up, leave Rio and his men with them for protection, and Steele and his team will provide security for our meeting with Resnick.”

“One of us should stay with Rio,” Donovan said. “I’d feel better if one of us was here with Mom and Dad.”

“You could both stay,” Sam said. “I don’t want to drag you into my mess.”

Garrett shot him a quelling look. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that. Van can stay with Mom and Dad. I’m going with you and Sophie.”

“Okay then. Let’s figure out where the fuck we set up the meet and greet with Resnick.”

WHEN Sophie awoke, the living room was filled with strange men, all clad in black shirts and camo pants. They looked hard, not just muscled, but hard in the sense that they’d seen and endured a lot.

These were military men. Disciplined. More than just money guided their motivation. Their loyalty couldn’t be bought as her father bought those loyal to him.

Her thoughts were fanciful. She didn’t know any of this for a fact. Maybe they weren’t any better than her father, but she had to believe in something, and right now she chose to believe in Sam, and by default the men who worked with and for him.

Fascinated by the lone woman in the group—they called her P.J.—Sophie watched her interact from the safety of her blankets and mound of pillows. No one had noticed she was awake, and she was quite happy to observe in silence.

P.J. was small and surprisingly feminine-looking, or maybe it was because she was surrounded by much larger, terse males. She was quite pretty in an understated way. She had a tan that testified to time spent outdoors. Her hair was pulled back in a neat ponytail, simple and no nonsense, just like she appeared. Her eyes, though, were a clear shade of green, beautiful enough that Sophie found herself staring unabashedly at the fascinating woman.