22
W
hat was this?
A strange man was standing in his fucking garage, like he owned the place. Correction, not a strange man. It was one of the assholes who'd nearly killed him. “Who are you and what the hell are you doing in our garage?” Malek asked.
The man's lips curled in a hint of a smile. “Why don't you ask your lovely wife.”
“What do you mean by that? Who are you?”
“Do I need to spell it out for you? First letter, C. H. I. M. E. R. A.”
“Lei would never. No.” Malek couldn't believe what this stranger was saying. It was a lie. It had to be. Lei loved him. She would never lead his enemy to his front door. Not knowingly. “You tricked her. Lied to her.”
The man laughed. The sound was hollow, mocking. “Did you ever fall for her shit? That bitch is good. Damn good.”
Rage surged through Malek like a thrashing river. His arm swung back, then forward, his fist aimed for the intruder's nose. But before it hit its mark, the man ducked and planted his fist in Malek's stomach. The pain forced Malek over. White hot. Searing. He gasped for air and his knees buckled.
Standing over him, the attacker crossed his arms over his chest and clicked his tongue. “Oh, damn, you had surgery not long ago, didn't you? I forgot. That must've hurt.”
Stars twinkled in Malek's vision, and he shook his head to try to clear it. He needed to get up, off the fucking floor, before the bastard beat him to death. He needed to protect Lei.
“I owe Lei for this. She's a damn good actress, isn't she?”
“You're lying.”
“You still think so?” The man squatted. “How else do you suppose I found you?”
“I don't know.” Malek fought to breathe. The pain was getting worse, not better. He wondered if something had broken open inside. He wondered if he might die there, lying curled up like a damn baby. His brain was getting foggy from the pain and he couldn't think. “Maybe it was April.”
“She's dead. Dead women don't talk.”
“Dead? When? How?”
“She had a little accident. You should ask your lovely wife about that one, too.”
“I don't believe you.”
“Well, then I guess we need to go in and talk to her. Get to the bottom of this.” He hauled Malek to his feet and shoved him forward.
Walking blindly, his legs heavy, Malek stumbled into the house.
Lei was standing just inside the door. Her eyes were round. Her lips pulled tight. “Malek.” Her gaze jerked from his face to the attacker's.
“Your husband has a few questions to ask you, Lei.”
“You didn't tell himâ” She cut herself off and visibly swallowed.
A tiny thread of doubt began winding through Malek's mind. Had this bastard told him the truth? Had Lei known who he was? “Lei?”
Her gaze jerked to the stranger again. “I'll talk to him alone. Leave us.”
“Whatever.” The attacker stepped back, lifting his hands as if to say he wouldn't interfere.
Lei wrapped one slender arm around Malek's waist and supported him as he hobbled to the couch and sat. She sat next to him. “I'm so sorry, Malek. So, so sorry.”
“What the hell is going on?”
Lei blinked a few times and lifted a trembling hand to her mouth. “I don't know where to start.” When he didn't give her any direction, because his throat had become completely cut off, she continued, “That man is Nate Holloway, an agent in the CIA. Or so he claims. I met him when I was . . . working.”
“Okay.”
“He did a favor for me. Actually, he did several. And he told me not to worry about paying him back. He said we'd figure it out later. I had no idea I was making a deal with the devil. I swear.” She was sniffling now. Shaking all over. But it was clear she wasn't exactly denying what that bastard had told him.
“So, it's true? What he said?”
She dragged her hand across her face. “I don't know what he told you.”
“You led him here.”
“I might have. Somehow. Not intentionally. I don't know.” Her gaze dropped to her hands, clasped in her lap. “I refused to help him. But then the girls started dying. And Eve's grandmother. She was such a nice woman. She'd never hurt anyone.”
“Okay.” He still didn't understand. What did the dying girls and an old lady have to do with the Chimera? With him?
“He was sending me a message,” she said between sobs and hiccups and sniffles. “And it was killing me, seeing them pay the price for my refusing him. Oh, God.” She covered her face, shoulders quaking, gut-wrenching sobs tearing his heart into pieces.
His insides felt like they were being slashed apart. Whatever was happening, it was more than Lei could handle. “Lei, I'm having a hard time understanding. Start again. From the beginning. You said he did you a favor. What did he do?”
Once again, she was overcome by tears. She tried to talk, but just mumbled and blurted things. He caught bits and pieces. “I had no idea. I wouldn't have asked him for help.” Her hands, still cupped over her face, muffled her sobs and her words. He struggled to hear, to make sense of what was quickly becoming incoherent babbling. “I didn't know what to do. I was trapped. I do love you, Malek. I honestly do.”
“Time's up!” the attacker said, charging toward them.
“No! Please!” Lei flung herself over Malek, begging, crying. “Please! Just a few minutes more.”
“No, I've wasted enough time here.” When Lei didn't move, the man tore her off, shoving her back. She landed on the floor with a heavy thud, her head slamming backward, striking the coffee table.
Malek's heart stopped. Completely. He dove toward her, but the bastard caught him in the gut, this time with a booted foot.
He saw black.
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The pain.
Confusion.
Lei's mind suddenly cleared and she remembered falling, recalled watching that bastard Holloway grabbing her husband.
This was all her fault. Everything.
Her vision was blurry. But she could make out the ceiling up above. She was in the living room. Alone? She tried to sit up, but her stomach lurched and acid swept up her throat. She rolled onto her side and dry heaved again and again and again. By the time she stopped, her thoughts were clear, but she was sick and shaky.
Was Malek dead already? Where was he?
Oh God, what have I done?
Moving as fast as she could with her skull threatening to split apart, she went in search of her cell phone. It was in her room. And there were messages. Several.
The first was from Rin:
When you get this message call me! Something's happening.
The second, Rin again:
Lei? If something's happened to you, I don't know what I'll do.
The third, Rin again:
Dammit, call me.
She was crying, and it was almost impossible to understand her.
The fourth was just a
click.
No message.
Lei started to dial her sister's number, but stopped. Already, she'd fucked up Malek's life. Wasn't that enough damage? Wouldn't it be better if she just disappeared off the face of the earth right now, before she could hurt anyone else?
Everything was all fucked up.
Lei sank to the floor, wrapped her arms around her bent knees, and cried. It had all started out as such a good thing. She'd found a way to help some girls who desperately needed it. They were too weak to handle the stress, willing to do anything to escape from the clutches of those people. With Holloway's help, she'd been able to rescue four girls, to help them escape, get out of that hell. She'd never imagined such a good deed would end up costing her such a dear price.
Malek was a good man. An honorable one. Kind.
Whatever this thing with the stupid ancient relic or whatever, it couldn't be worth killing people for. Who did that? It was crazy.
At first she'd simply refused to do what Holloway said. But then the first girl was reported dead. And the second. He wanted to make sure she knew the rest would die, too, if she didn't fall into line and keep up her end of the bargain.
They were innocent. Mothers. Sisters. Daughters. They didn't deserve to be caught in the middle of anything. And she'd promised each and every one of them that if they trusted her, they would be safe.
That was the hardest part about the situation, knowing she'd failed them.
And then there'd been the attack. She'd turned to another stranger for help. So far, he'd done nothing. Not a fucking thing. Except maybe tell Holloway how to find her.
What a fool she'd been to think it was over, that hiding would work. Yeah, that was the ticket. That sure worked. There she was, sitting in the middle of the floor, married to a man she loved.
And soon to be a widow.
The heaving started again.
Struggling to stand, she ignored her cell phone as it started ringing once again. She just wanted it all to end. The pain. The hollow darkness inside. There was only one way.
Pills. Malek had a boatload of them in his bathroom.
The hell would be over soon. And it would be over forever.
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So. Fucking. Cold.
Malek's jaw hurt, his teeth were chattering so hard. With each breath, a white cloud of mist obscured his vision. The floor beneath him was like ice, the chill seeping into his bones. And the pain in his gut was almost unbearable.
He was in hell. And not just because of his physical discomforts. The heartache, the emptiness inside was far worse.
Lei had led the enemy right to his front door. Why? How could she tell him she loved him one second and then betray him the next? She'd tried to explain, but her words had only made him more confused.
The lock on the door to his cell clicked and opened. Holloway strolled in, dressed in a parka like he was going camping in the arctic.
If Malek hadn't been chained to the fucking floor, he'd rip that fucking coat off the bastard and let him freeze his balls off, too. Then he'd shove them down his throat.
“Glad to see you're awake. Take a nice nap?” he asked.
Malek said nothing.
Holloway grabbed the shitty chair sitting against the wall, set it down closer to Malek, and sat. He crossed his legs. “Not in the mood to talk?”
Malek said nothing.
“We're just having a friendly conversation here. No reason to give me the silent treatment. How's the pain? Would you like something for it?”
Again, Malek said nothing. He knew what the bastard was after, and the hell if he was going to give it to him.
“Okay. Well, let's see if this inspires a little attitude adjustment.” He pulled a small remote out of his pocket, clicked a button, and a television screen descended from a slit in the ceiling. Another click and there was an image displayed on the screen. One that made his blood turn to ice.
Talen. Beaten. Bloody. Sitting on a chair. Arms pressed against his side, as if his hands were tied behind his back.
Malek swallowed hard. For many years, he'd lived with the knowledge that something like this could happen, that he might watch his two brothers die. Or they might watch him die. All those years of knowing, of preparing, hadn't made this moment any easier. Not at all.
His stomach lurched.
“Now, I ask again, how is your pain? Would you like anything for it?” Holloway said, enunciating each word clearly.
Malek stared at the image, but said nothing. It was the right thing, the only thing he could do.
Protect The Secret. At all costs.
He prayed for strength.
Holloway shook his head and produced a cell phone from another pocket. He poked a button, said, “Phase one,” and clicked off. He clicked the remote again.
Now the image was in real time, a video, not a still image.
Malek fought the urge to panic and focused instead on the room his brother was in. The floor, he noted, was exactly like the floor in the room he was being held. The walls, the same sterile white. Was he close by? In the same building?
Two men entered Talen's room, and Talen didn't move, didn't speak. One of the two men slid a white hood over Talen's head. Still, Talen said nothing, did nothing. They pushed Talen off the chair, positioning him on the floor, on his back. Again, Talen put up no fight.
Malek knew what was coming. He had to assume Talen did, too. Boarding, as it was called, was a legal, though questionable, interrogation technique. Some called it torture, inhumane, cruel. And it had been outlawed by President Obama shortly after he took office. Outlawed for most agencies.