Brain Storm (A Taylor Morrison Novel Book 1) (37 page)

His attempt at a joke fell flat, but he’d managed to answer my questions and calm me down to the point that my nerves, though still frazzled, at least were no longer borderline. I was mostly just tired. Tired of the whole thing. All the intrigue, all the lies, all the running. Tired of looking for answers and just getting more questions. He moved away at my sigh of resignation, his voice now coming from someplace above my head.

“I’m turning on the light. Watch your eyes.”
 

“Bryan called you Mac in the van. Won’t Brown know somethings up?” I asked, hearing him move across the room to the switch.

“I doubt he even noticed. He kinda had his hands full at the time. Besides ‘Mac’ is a pretty normal generic for guys to throw around. If it’s a problem, I have other names I can use.”

Dim light suddenly flooded the room, making my eyes tear up. Blinking them away, I looked around, getting my bearings. We were back at the cabin, in my room. Mac moved near and in the light I could see the dark shadows and lines that marked his face. Apparently it had been worse than I thought.

“How long this time?” I asked quietly, finally ready to face what had happened.

“Three days. Off and on. You kept fading in and out, but it looks like you’re sticking around this time.” The smile on his lips didn’t quite reach his eyes. That he was exhausted was evident. I had no idea what had gone on while I was out, but it was obvious he’d had a tough time of it. I looked at him, afraid to ask the question that was burning in my brain.

“They got out, Sam. You got them out,but it was close. Too close.” He shifted on the bed and looked away, uncomfortable. I must have really scared him. “ Why didn’t you listen to Brown?”

“You know why I didn’t listen to him,” I said, thinking the answer should have been obvious. Why would I ever listen to Brown, was a better question. He’d been nothing but trouble from the minute we picked him up. For all I knew he’d set us up. “Speaking of Brown, where is he?”

“He’s not here. I’ll fill you in on him later. Right now, you need to eat. I’ll go get you some food.” Mac headed for the door, but I waved him off.

The dizziness had finally faded and I got to my feet. I was a little shaky and my head still hurt, but not so bad, all things considered.
 

“Don’t hurry. I want to clean up first and that’s going to involve a long, hot shower.” I felt the muscles in my sore back flex in anticipation. “I’ll come down after I’m through.”
 

“Okay. Come downstairs if that’s what you want, but just don’t push it. You’ve been through a lot. If you need me, just call.” He threw me a cocky wink as he walked out the door only to pop his head back around for a parting shot. “Oh and Sam? Just so you’re prepared. It’s not a pretty a sight.”
 

“Thanks for the warning.” I tossed back over my shoulder, not knowing if he was talking about the bathroom or me.

I flipped on the light and knew in an instant he meant me. I had one heck of a shiner. All blacks, blues and purples, with a little yellow and green thrown in on the edges. My left eye wasn’t swollen shut, but it wasn’t open either. The split lip finished it off with a flourish. I turned on the water and stripped down, only to find myself covered in bruises. Every joint ached and I was pretty sure I had a torn muscle in my left shoulder. I wasn’t sure exactly what had happened, but I had a pretty good idea who. I just hoped Brown looked worse than I did.

HE DID, I noted with no small amount of satisfaction. I was making my way through one of Mama D’s huge omelets when Bryan arrived in the RV and Brown climbed out the door. I’d felt the buzz long before they’d arrived. I’d known he was coming, so the feeling of danger that snapped my senses into full alert when I saw him step out of the RV and begin limping toward the house came as a shock.
 

“Easy there. He’s on our side, ” Mac cautioned as he reached over to top off my coffee. “At least that’s what he says.”

The Mustang roared into the driveway and slid to a stop next to the RV, causing Bryan to stop mid-stride. Candice popped out of the driver’s side and I watched as she slammed the car door, ignoring whatever he was telling her as she strode past him and Brown on her way to the house. She disappeared from view seconds before the kitchen door flew open, banging against the wall.
 

“You’re up, thank goodness!” She rounded the table and flopped down in the chair next to me. “How are you feeling?”

“Better than I look, but not by much.” The lop-sided smile I gave her dying as Brown walked through the door.
 

Tension fairly crackled in the air as my gaze narrowed on him, and he backed toward the door that Bryan had just closed behind them.
 

“Taylor.” Mac nudged my leg in warning under the table. He had refused to tell me what had happened until the others arrived. The others apparently, now included Brown, who he had assured me, no longer posed a threat. I’d agreed to hear him out, but that didn’t mean I intended to drop my guard until I had judged that for myself. I nudged him right back, but dialed it back a notch.

Brown visibly relaxed and moved to take a seat across the room from the table. I watched him pass by the table, limping badly. He was a big man, tall. Mac had said 6’4” and I could easily believe it. He was quite a bit thinner than I’d thought, but then he’d supposedly been being held captive for several weeks. He looked like he’d been beaten with a baseball bat, and I felt I moment of chagrin that I had probably been responsible for that, but it was fleeting at best.
 

Caleb Brown had some explaining to do. I could only hope that Mac and Bryan were right in their assessment and Brown was, in fact, on our side. He knew who we were and where to find us, making him a very potent threat.
 

“Okay, let’s hear it.” I tossed my fork down, pushed my plate away, finding I’d suddenly lost my appetite. I crossed my arms and leaned back in the chair, never taking my eyes off of Brown. “Convince me you aren’t working for them.”

“I can’t. I’m a victim here, just as much as you are. More, if the truth be told, but there’s no way to convince you of that.”

He gave me a look that said it all. If what he said was true, he was indeed a victim. And everything that had happened to him was my fault. His little dig was to remind of that fact, like I needed any reminding. If possible, I disliked him even more than I had before.

I sat and stared at him, slowly sipping my coffee, letting the silence hang in air. I was perfectly happy to sit there and wait. I’d learned a long time ago that one of the best ways to get the information you needed was to keep quiet. Silence made people nervous. And nervous people talked too much.

Brown was good, I’d give him that much. He sat and met my stare for longer than most. When he finally started talking, it wasn’t what I had expected.

“I told them you were in the area. Hughes already suspected. He’s not without talent.”

I glanced over at Mac. We had figured that Hughes was part of it and Brown had just confirmed it. I just wasn’t quite sure what all ‘it’ entailed.
 

Brown got up from his chair, agitated and went to stand by the window, the buzz in my head from him rising sharply. It was a milder version of what I had felt the first time I’d come across him, but still intense. I instinctively flinched, ready for it to go full on, but he reeled it back in. No one else in the room realized what was happening, but I was impressed by the control he could exercise. Especially since I didn’t have it.
 

Bryan had pushed away from the table, ready to go after him, but I motioned him back down to his seat as Brown turned to look out the window. He wasn’t going anywhere and now that he was talking, I didn’t want to do anything to encourage him to stop.

“I simply told him what he already knew. It didn’t seem worth the risk not to. But that’s all I told him. Nothing else. Not the rest of it. Hughes isn’t stupid.” He turned back around, his emotions in check, and leaned against the counter. “He figured Sean was with you and you'd head to the Agency for help. That’s pretty much SOP. Once he knew you were in the area, he planned on using me as bait to lure you in. He didn’t know and I didn’t care to enlighten him to the fact that you were a couple of steps ahead of him.”

By that I had to assume he meant he hadn’t told Hughes we were coming. It was the second time he claimed he hadn’t done that. I wondered who he was trying to convince, because I wasn’t buying it.

“Not far enough, it seems.” I said, holding out my cup for a refill as Mama D came around with a fresh pot. “They were on us pretty fast.”

“You were far enough ahead to catch them off guard and get me out. Problem is, they had already implanted the tracking device, so it didn’t take them long to find you.”

I looked over at Mac, not sure I’d heard Brown correctly. He nodded at me, confirming what Brown had said.
 

So that was something new. I had already figured out they were still tracking him after we tossed his clothing, but thought it was mentally. Apparently I’d given them too much credit, but I guess that was better than under estimating them. However, the fact that they’d implanted a tracker meant they knew what we were up to. Hughes might have guessed that we’d come to the Agency, but there was no way he would have guessed we’d come for Brown or that we would blunder onto him. Brown had told him everything or maybe I had it all wrong and Brown was the one calling the shots. This was getting more complicated by the minute and I could feel the pressure build in my head. I needed help, but I couldn’t trust this guy. He needed to go. Now. My decision must have shown on my face or he was reading my mind, because he jumped right back in with both feet before I could tell Mac to take him back to wherever they’d had him stashed.

“Look, Taylor. You’re absolutely right to doubt me. I knew they’d done it, but I didn’t say anything. I didn’t really relish the idea of being tossed out onto the road or being left there at Hughes mercy. I wanted a way out and I took it. I’m not proud of what I did, but I’d do it again if it meant getting away from Hughes.”

“Why you?” I came back at him, angry at being played. “Why would he take you? How could he even know we were still alive? I seem to recall a pretty bad fire back in Little Rock. One where we all died.”

The buzzing from him suddenly surged in my head, and I could practically taste his terror. He shook his head, and looked down at the floor, avoiding my gaze, without answering. I leaned back in my chair, coffee in hand, determined to wait him out as long as my head didn’t explode.

“You are not the only Client,” he said, finally breaking the silence. “There was a girl, named Abby. She had the amazing ability to find lost things. He used her to find you. I was her Handler. He needed me.”

I sat stunned as his words sunk into my mind. He wasn’t lying about this, although I wish he had been. There had been a girl... she’d had an amazing ability... Brown’s terror, the horror he felt? Suddenly the pieces all fell into place and I knew.
 

She was gone. They had used her to find me and then, if Brown’s terror was to be believed, Hughes had killed her. Killed a child to get to me. Brown knew it had happened, maybe he’d even seen it. I knew the horror that he’d felt because I’d felt it too. I could feel it in him now, simmering on the edges of his mind. But he hadn’t stopped it. Whether he was in on it or not, he’d let it happen. The rage came fast and hot, flaring out and flowing through me. That I would find Hughes and make him pay, was the last thought I had as blinding pain arched through my head, bringing me to my knees, screaming in agony.

“This is exactly why I didn’t want to tell you.” Brown’s words were the last thing I heard as the darkness overwhelmed me.

I CAME TO on the sofa in the living room, disoriented and totally disgusted with myself. The pain behind my eyes was intense, substantially less than earlier in the kitchen, but it was definitely there. The sadness, however, the feeling of guilt and loss was nearly overwhelming. A girl named Abby was gone and I was to blame. Hughes may have killed her and Brown may have let him do it but I was the reason she’d been in danger to begin with. I was the one responsible.
 

I was trying hard not to lose the omelet I’d just eaten when Brown leaned over the back of the sofa, looking at me with an ‘I told you so’ expression on his face, which was pretty much the last thing I wanted to see.

“You’re going to have to learn to have at least a modicum of control.”

If he’d known how badly I wanted to throw up right then, he’d have been very impressed with my control. He had a point though. This passing out thing just had to stop.
 

“Go away,” I gritted out, not wanting to see him. He moved back, but didn’t leave, instead turning to talk to Mac like I wasn’t there.

“Just how out of control is she? Can’t you handle her any better than that?” he snapped at him.

“I don’t
handle
Taylor. She’s perfectly capable of handling herself,” Mac shot back. “Frankly, I think she’s holding it together pretty well, all things considered.”
 

“Well, you think wrong. If this is how she holds it together, I’d hate to be around when it falls apart.”
 

I spotted a book lying on the coffee table next to me and had a sudden impulse to throw it at Brown’s head. No sooner had the thought crossed my mind, than the book was flying through the air, disappearing out of view behind the sofa.