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.”
CHAPTER 13
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.
She too was dressed in a black T-shirt and camo pants. A large knife was secured to her belt, and she wore a shoulder holster with a pistol tucked under her arm.
Sophie felt a rush of envy. Here was a woman who was wholly self-sufficient. She didn’t need the men who surrounded her. She was obviously an equal, and she could take care of herself. These men trusted her to look out not only for herself but for the team as well.
P.J. wouldn’t have run scared like Sophie had done. Nor would she have made such a pitiful attempt at escaping Tomas’s assassin.
She glanced down at her hands and almost laughed. It was rather pointless to be comparing herself to a female mercenary. Though she did wonder about P.J.’s story. How awesome that she had choices, that she could do and be anything. She was in control of her own destiny.
So were about a billion other people on the planet, and now so would Sophie be. No longer would she be controlled by another human being. It was a vow she repeated often.
Her gaze drifted to where Marlene and Frank sat in the corner of the room. Marlene was on Frank’s lap, and he had a firm arm around her. They were talking in low tones, and it was obvious Frank was comforting her. Every once in a while Marlene’s worried gaze would seek out her sons, but there was also fierce pride reflected there. And love.
It made Sophie’s chest ache. It hurt to see such love, such a sense of family in this sprawling house. Pictures and memories littered the walls and the mantel over the fireplace. Occupied every available space on the surface of end tables and over the television.
It was everything she’d ever wanted and never had.
The baby kicked, just one gentle nudge, like she was turning over to a better position in her sleep. Tears burned Sophie’s lids. Already she loved her daughter so much, and she vowed with everything she had that somehow, someway, her child would grow up with the love and security that Sophie never enjoyed.
She had no experience. But she had dreams. She had imagined a thousand times how normal families lived and loved. She wanted that for her daughter.
She wanted it for herself.
“Are you all right?”
She jerked her head up to see a tall, dark-haired man—Rio?—standing over her. She froze as she studied him. He looked fierce, but there was something soft in his eyes as he stared down at her.