Fortune's Favor (A Power Up! Story) (6 page)

“Yeah, right.” But Avery was closer to the truth than he knew. By deliberately disliking Avery, Nathan had put some much-needed distance between himself and a man he shouldn’t want. “But you did want me, didn’t you?”

Avery shrugged. “You’re hot, and you know it. You give great head.”

Nathan flushed. “What a compliment. Quick, let me add it to my résumé.”

Another smile.
Holy shit
. Avery had grinned at him twice in the span of ten minutes. “You’re such a smart-ass. The run must have helped. That and getting off last night,” Avery said drily.

“Yep. And you know, say what you want, but it’s a good thing I have a healthy ego. Otherwise I might have been upset when you came and fell asleep without even a thank-you.”

Trust Avery to have no shame. The man didn’t blink. “Hey, I had a vision. Tapped me out, and then you sucked the life out of me.”

“Twice.”

Avery chuckled. “Right. Of course I fell asleep.” He stood and dumped his coffee cup in the sink. “I’m going for a run. When I get back, we’ll talk about today’s schedule.”

Before Nathan could ask him about that, Avery left. “High-handed asshole,” he muttered. But Avery had a point. Digging for information on Malcolm with the neighbors wasn’t working. The man had been a mystery to the town, gone as often as he’d been there, and always wearing the pleasant mask he’d shown Nathan’s aunt.

Not aunt.
Mother.

Nathan stared glumly at the coffeepot. He had to deal with the truth eventually. Aunt Danielle had been his birth mother. The woman he’d thought was his mother had been her sister, Michelle Kraft. Why hadn’t Danielle kept him? And if she hadn’t wanted anything to do with him, why take him in after her sister passed? His grandmother had been living at the time, and she’d doted on him before she’d died.

He had more questions than answers. But he couldn’t escape the fact that the most important woman in his life had lied to him for years. She’d been so loving, so accepting. From the first, she’d known he was a bit different. Like his father, she’d say, and always look so sad. From what his mother—Michelle—had told him, his father had died in a hit-and-run before he’d been born. She’d raised him alone, another loving female who supported him in all things. She’d been the one to help him build his mental shields, to homeschool him while he’d adapted to knowing things no normal kid could know.

Because of the woman he considered his mother, he’d gotten a handle on his ability from a young age. When she’d died, he’d been devastated. And then Aunt Danielle had arrived, looking so much like his mother it hurt to see her. The same green eyes, the same smile and gentle mien. Though Michelle had been two years older, there could be no doubt the women were related.

He’d always thought he had his mother’s eyes, and now he knew he did. Danielle’s eyes.

With a sigh, he poured himself a bowl of cereal and sat down to eat. His metabolism had kicked into high gear again, and he needed to sustain his energy for the fight to come. Malcolm Dixon was a bad, bad man.

He knew what his sweet
mother
had seen in him, though. Handsome and muscular, Malcolm was a man’s man. He’d served in the army for a time before becoming some type of pharmaceutical sales consultant—or so he’d said. He traveled all over the place, but he always came home with a gift for Danielle. He’d seemed to really love her, as much as he hated Nathan. Nathan had never understood why his uncle loathed him. He’d never given the man any problems, had in fact looked up to him, the way a boy admired a father figure. But Malcolm had been anything but loving.

He rubbed his thigh, under his shorts near his buttocks, where Malcolm liked best to let the strap fly. Not enough to scar, but enough to leave welts that took time to heal. A careful abuser. He was always cold and in control when he beat Nathan. Never a hothead, but a true predator who knew exactly what he was doing. Nathan could only thank God his uncle had never sexually abused him. The very thought made him cringe.

He stared down at his empty bowl and poured another.

Avery paused in the doorway, looking sexy as hell in sweats and a skullcap. “Lucky Charms? Really?”

“Don’t even think about screwing with my cereal. You touch one magical marshmallow, and I’ll make your life a living hell.”

“So what else is new?” Avery muttered—not quite under his breath—before he turned away.

Nathan couldn’t help grinning when the door slammed. Having Avery annoyed with him put everything right with the world. The past would always be there, but the future had possibilities. He ate two more bowls of cereal and left the bowl for Avery to clean up when he returned. But on his way out of the kitchen, he made himself look into the far corner, the one place he’d avoided since arriving at the house.

The cellar door was the same. A thick oak wood painted black with a dead bolt high on the frame, too high for a slight twelve-year-old to reach…

* * * *

A foot shoved him hard, and he tumbled down the stairs. He landed on his ass, a few bruises to add to the ones currently there. Something skittered in the pitch-black, and he bit back the cry that would fall on deaf ears. The cold bit deep into his flesh and bones. A soul-weary exhaustion filled him. When would this end? And then the footsteps… It wasn’t over yet. And that made everything worse.

“Come here, Nathan. Come to Uncle Malcolm and take your punishment.”

* * * *

Punishment for what, he’d always ask. And every time, his uncle would beat him harder for not knowing. A smarter boy would have made something up, but Nathan had been stubborn back then, like now. He’d never deserved any of Malcolm’s abuse. He’d avoided his aunt after each occurrence, not wanting her to know, because Malcolm had warned him that if she did, he’d hurt her too. And then that one day he hadn’t been careful enough, and Danielle had seen the hint of a welt under his shirt…

Nathan shrugged the memories away as he exited the kitchen. Not yet. But soon, he’d go down those stairs. He’d get past his fears and find the strength to defeat his uncle. And in the doing, he’d find out what the hell had really happened seventeen years ago, when his uncle had tried to kill Danielle and instead ended up with Nathan’s knife in the center of his chest, where his heart should have been.

Chapter Four

Avery returned to find Nathan frowning at his laptop. “What’s up?” His breath came out in rasps. The temperature outside had lowered to twenty degrees. And though the sidewalks were cleared of snow, he’d still run through several mounds of the white stuff to reach a greater distance. Between the run and last night, he felt like a new man. One able to take on a murderer and a playboy too sexy for his own good.

Christ, when would this desire go away? He tried to ignore his erection and sat down across from his partner. Maybe sex with Nathan wasn’t a good idea, not if it distracted him from keeping an eye out for danger.

“Ian finally found what Jack couldn’t.”

Avery snorted. “I bet that fried Jack’s ass.” Ian Ryder, their newest addition to the team, had been and probably still was a master forger. The guy had contacts all over the place, in law enforcement and underground. When psychic means failed, they could turn to Ian for help, and Ian never let anyone—Jack especially—forget it. Personally Avery liked the guy. Ian was small and cute and funny. Not threatening, and not his type, though Ian had offered several chances to get to know him better.

Nathan glared at the computer.

“Okay, I’ll bite. What the hell has your panties in a twist?”

“Dickhead.” The standard response he typically received from Nathan. Avery had been worried that this morning might be awkward. To his pleasant surprise, being around Nathan felt normal. Just…enhanced…by that sexual tension he now knew they both felt.

“Still waiting.”

“It’s just, here. Look for yourself.” Nathan spun the laptop around. He wore a dark sweater and jeans, his hair looked damp, and he smelled like soap. Clean and handsome and so fucking close. Avery could easily see himself tying Nathan up and having some fun. Later. After the mission, he reminded himself.

He took a look at the laptop and frowned. “This is beyond PWP clearance. How the hell did Ian get this?” Most of the names and locations had been blacked out, but Avery saw enough to understand just what Malcolm Dixon had done that had necessitated his travel all over the place. “I hate to break it to you, Nathan, but your uncle is even worse than you thought.”

“He traveled a lot. Not as much as I liked, but the three years I spent here were tolerable because he was selling drugs.” At Avery’s questioning look, he added, “Pharmaceuticals. So we’d been told.”

“So Danielle didn’t know what he really did for a living?” He’d decided to call her by her first name, because he could see Nathan had yet to deal with her passing.

“Who the fuck knows?”

Avery could feel Nathan’s frustration.

“She apparently had a hard time with the truth.” Nathan rose to his feet and began pacing the kitchen.

The time had come for some answers, things the files hadn’t mentioned about Nathan’s early years. “Tell me what happened that night, when you thought you’d killed him.”

Nathan stopped in his tracks.

“Tell me. I know a little about him, but we need a whole picture of the man. Hell, even you don’t know as much as you thought you knew about him.”

Nathan’s jaw clenched. Then he blew out a breath. “I hated him.”

“Yeah, I got that.”

“My mom died when I was ten. I moved in here at my aunt’s insistence. She wanted me; he didn’t. I know he served in the army. That he was a Ranger, I think. But he got out to be with her more. Then he found a job selling drugs to hospitals or something. I only knew he went away and left me the hell alone. But that last time he came back, he was different.”

“How?”

“Normally when he dealt with me, he was cold. Not an emotional head case, but a man who knew what he did was wrong and didn’t care.”

Avery had wanted to ask but wasn’t sure how. So he simply said, “Did he ever sexually assault you?”

Nathan shook his head, and he didn’t appear to be hiding anything. Thank God.

“No, but I have to wonder if he would have if I hadn’t tried to stop him that night.” He looked away from Avery for a moment. Then he met Avery’s gaze once more. “I came back late from a friend’s house. I was supposed to stay the night, but I’d forgotten something at home. I don’t even remember what it was now. I found him in the living room, beating the shit out of my aunt. He’d lost it. Really gone off the deep end. I’d never seen him like that before, and it freaked me the hell out.”

“I’ll bet,” Avery murmured.

Nathan shoved his hands in his pockets and looked down. “Apparently she’d caught him beating me and confronted him with her suspicions. I don’t know if that’s what made him nuts or what, but he was screaming at her and calling her all kinds of names. He was going to kill her. I know it.” He looked at Avery again, and Avery nodded to keep him talking. “So I picked up a big knife lying on his briefcase. A KA-BAR some Marine friend of his had once given him. Like it was calling to me,” he mused, and Avery had the uneasy sensation Nathan had left him. “I picked it up, and I knew where to hit him.”

“Like you read something off it?”

“Kind of.” Nathan didn’t explain any more. “I stabbed his thigh to get his attention. He bled a lot; I remember that. When he let her go and turned, it was like looking at myself. I can’t explain it, but I saw me in that man. He punched me right in the face and kept at it. My aunt jumped on his back and distracted him.

“And then I remembered the knife. After the first punch, I’d dropped it. But when she jumped him, I grabbed it. I’m still not sure how I did it. I could barely see through swollen eyes.” Nathan spoke quickly, the rush of words and the panic behind them pulling at heartstrings Avery didn’t know he had. “My nose was broken, and he’d cracked my jaw. But I stabbed the fucker as deep as I could, right in the heart. He fell with a surprised look on his face, or so Danielle told me.”

Avery had to clear his throat to speak. “No shit?”

“Yeah. I swear he was dead. I mean, I stabbed him in the heart. We took off. No medical attention or anything. Just jumped in her car and vanished off the grid. We stole a car on the road and ended up at my grandmother’s. She hooked us up with cash. Gran was loaded.” His strained smile reflected no joy. “Then we disappeared. When he never came after us, I thought he’d died.”

“Did Danielle tell you that?”

“No.” Nathan frowned. “Come to think of it, we never talked about him again. Like if we didn’t mention him, he’d never existed. And our lives were great.” He blinked hard. “
Were
being the key word. I can’t believe the fucker was still alive all that time. I mean, wouldn’t my aunt have changed my name if she knew that?”

“Not necessarily. You do know your last name was originally spelled with a C and not a K, right?”

“What?”

Avery shook his head. “Didn’t you read the folder I gave you?”

“I thought it was the same one I had.”

“No. Jack had me look through a few things he dug up, stuff that didn’t jibe. Michelle Kraft never gave birth to you, but a Danielle Craft did after she’d been married to Malcolm Dixon.”

“How could he not have known?”

“From what I read, the guy was active duty and deployed at the time. He was gone for more than a year. Probably why she never told him or you. Danielle stepped out on the guy and was afraid he’d find out and try to kill you. Even she had to know he was unstable after living with him for so long. Think about it. If it was bad when he thought you were his nephew, imagine what he might have done if he’d thought you were his wife’s illegitimate kid.”

“Good point.” Nathan sat next to him. “This shit is giving me a headache. I mean, why, if Malcolm was alive all these years, did he wait so long to come back? Why kill Danielle now? And why come after me if she’s dead?”

“Yeah. And what are the odds he happens to be in possession of a stolen blade belonging to our client, and you’re now on the case?”