Worth It All (All #3) Page 3

  “All right, so here’s what I propose,” Tac starts. “We need to get back to Willow and dig into this situation at the club. There’s a clear connection to that place and what’s happening. I want to talk with the staff personally and see what the bartender who passed the information along to him knows.” Tac drives away from the run-down shack the islanders call a hospital. It’s more like a hut in the middle of nowhere, but according to the doctor, it’s the best facility around. “We shouldn’t mention everything Charlie told us to Breesan. The details of anyone’s planned murder aren’t exactly easy to hear.” Marcus nods mechanically while staring out the front window, still clearly affected. I don’t think he even really heard what Tac just said. I don’t agree with it, so I know he couldn’t possibly think this is a good idea. The display in Rhys’ kitchen after he returned from south Florida proves that he fancies Breesan, probably more than any other woman before. What the hell is wrong with him today?

  “Tac, if she asks, how are you planning on keeping it from her?” I ask, since he’s not going to bring it up. “She doesn’t take no for an answer. We learned that the hard way when her stepmother died.”

  Marcus lets out a heavy sigh and before Tac can respond, he finally chimes in, “I have to tell her. I won’t let her think we’re hiding things. She can tell when someone lies, and omitting the truth will only result in her not trusting us. We need to be honest with her so we can continue protecting her.”

  “Marcus…” Tac warns, cutting his eyes toward the passenger seat. Marcus glares back.

  “I don’t give a damn what you have to say about it, Tac. I will tell her everything,” he growls angrily.

  Giving up the fight, Tac nods. “All right, but remind her not to trust anyone until we pinpoint exactly who the perpetrator is at the club.” Glancing in the rearview mirror at me, Tac adds, “Morgan, you heard a lot of shit today from that sick fucker. Can we trust that you’ll keep it to yourself?”

  “Hell yes!” I snap, pissed off at him for even thinking I’ll betray them. “I understand that this shit is serious.”

  “Easy, dude. I know that you care about Breesan, but there are things that waste-of-air spoke about that could give any man nightmares. I need to know if you’re going to break from that shit and go off telling someone.” Peeking over his sunglasses, Marcus watches me intently.

  “No, man, I’m not a puss. I’ve got this,” I say, forcing myself to chill the hell out.

  The remainder of the ride to the airport is filled with a thick silence, and it isn’t until we’re on the plane that Tac speaks, breaking the building tension between us.

  “Marcus, come take a look at some of the notes I took and tell me if anything sticks out to you.”

  I kick back in the leather seat and stare out the window, running through the information that we learned today. I think I know who the last abductor is, but I want to get confirmation before I just shout out a name. Marcus won’t be able to place him because they didn’t have personal contact in London, but I remember him. If he is who I believe Charlie described then I need to use caution when I confront him. And you can bet your sweet ass, I’m dealing with the prick.

  With my head resting on the back of the seat, I twist it, glancing over at Tac and my brother. Do I want them knowing what I know? Hell, even after reluctantly agreeing to me tagging along and letting me listen to that motherfucker go on about abducting Anna and Waverly, they’re still treating me like an outsider. Excluding me from their little chat, huddling up on the far side of the plane is a fucking insult. Well, to hell with them. It may be ridiculous, but if they want to play it like that then I’ll do my own investigation and exclude them, too. One way or another, I’m in this shit, and I don’t have to sit in the corner like some snappish child.

  One thing is for sure, Charlie’s death won’t come a minute too soon for me. When that bastard admitted to being the sorry piece of shit that put his paws on my Waverly, I glanced at Marcus’ gun holster. For a split second, I debated if I could get his Glock away from him and empty the damn thing center mass without getting my ass kicked. Probably not, and even if I did, I don’t think putting sixteen rounds in his chest would make the ache I feel in my heart any better. A slow death, suffering with the fatal effects of his extensive Ryske usage along with dehydration from floating in the ocean for four days is a better way for him to die.

  After a half-hour of talking the plan through with Tac, Marcus returns to his seat next to me. I’ve been staring out the window contemplating telling him the conclusions I’ve reached, but we haven’t been on the same side of a fight since we were kids. He probably doesn’t even give a fuck about what I have to offer or will consider my information unreliable anyway, so I’ll keep my mouth shut until I have physical proof.

  “We should be landing in a little over an hour,” Marcus yawns, leaning his seat back.

  None of us have slept in over twenty-four hours. Crashing for the remainder of the flight sounds good to me, so I copy him and kick back, too.

  “Morgan,” Marcus starts after a few minutes of silence, turning his head my way. “The shit dad said about Sam…”

  “Breesan told you?” I guess, sitting upright again.

  “Yes, she did,” Nodding, he narrows his eyes at me and requests, “Don’t tell Sam.”

  “When did you find out, Marcus?”

  He sighs, running a hand through his hair before raising his seat up to turn toward me. “It was the summer after freshman year at Oxford.”

  “Damn,” I growl, feeling like a dumbass for not realizing that our father was playing me for a fool back then. He thrived on us being adversaries.

  “I overheard them fighting about it. She doesn’t know and I want to keep it that way.”

  “Don’t you think she deserves to know the truth?”

  “Hell yes, I do, but how the fuck do I tell her, Morgan? It will fucking crush her and you know I’m right.”

  Glancing back out the window, I disagree. “I doubt it. She hasn’t given a damn one way or another about Barret Walker for years, almost like she knew he isn’t her real father.”

  “Even so, can you tell me that it won’t hurt her to know that he turned against me after I discovered the truth? That’s the part that bothers me. She’ll hold herself responsible rather than directing it toward him.”

  “I don’t know, Marcus,” I pierce him with a suspicious glare. “I would want to know. Sam may be pissed that you’ve kept their secret this long. Tell her the truth and let her decide how to handle it.”

  “Fuck,” Marcus hisses and turns away. “You’re right. I’ve been just as bad as them by withholding the information from her. Dammit!”

  Watching him, I run a hand through my hair. “You know it didn’t take much convincing on their part for me to turn my back on you, too.” I admit. I see a bit of pain flash in his eyes and then offer, “I fucked up.”

  He glances over at Tac before making eye contact and telling me, “It’s in the past.” Could he really forget it that easily?

  When we disembark the plane, Marcus takes off toward Breesan while Tac and I head over to Rhys’ compound.

  “Do you think you could get some more information from your friend about the group down in the Keys?” Tac asks, pulling up to the closed gate. He taps in the access code before glancing over.

  “Sure,” I nod, peeling my eyes away from the imposing security gate to look at him. “Do you have something specific you want me to ask for?”

  “Yeah,” He smirks, “I want to buy a girl.”

  Laughing from the serious look on his face, I counter, “That’s not exactly what I had in mind when I gave you the shit on Xavier.”

  “Probably not, but I’ve got a plan.” Putting the car in gear, his smirk turns devilish before he adds, “I always have a plan.”

  “Since we know the ship went that direction after leaving here, he could provide intel on where the women are.” I open the car door and climb out. “Is this
something we include the group in or are you going rogue?”

  “It’s not rogue if you have a partner,” he states flatly, pushing open the front door. Confident after being entrusted by Tac, who’s involving me with their odd little group to help locate the women, I think I just might confide in him about who I believe the third suspect is. Before I get a chance to mention it, we walk inside the house, continuing down the hall toward a pair of raised voices. Tac glances back at me with eyebrows pinching in and a humorous look on his face. “What the hell?”

  “It can’t be avoided so get over it,” Sam orders Rhys, slinging her backpack over her shoulder. “If you feel so strongly about me leaving, how about you stop being a stubborn ass and help get this bullshit sorted. I can come back home quicker,” she sings playfully.

  “That’s laughable,” he snorts. “If anyone is stubborn…” Rhys’ words stall when he hears me and Tac entering the kitchen. Never having seen Sam and Rhys together, I suddenly feel exceptionally protective and move toward her defensively.

  “Is there a problem?” I ask, standing between them and glaring from Rhys to my sister.

  “Not at all,” Sam sneers at Rhys before twisting around and walking out of the kitchen. From the hallway she shouts, “Going to Gran’s. I’ll see you boys later. Sleep tight.”

  “Does she ever play nice?” Tac chuckles, snagging a beer from the fridge. He crashes into a chair and grins at Rhys who is still watching Sam walk away. “What did you do now?”

  “I did nothing,” Rhys says, turning up his beer to cover the smirk on his mouth. Cheeky bastard.

  “Rhys,” I plop down in the chair across from Tac and change the subject before I blow a fuse over the way he just undressed my sister with his eyes as she left here. “Do you have a problem if I crash here until I can get a place?”

  His dark blue eyes shift, narrowing on me, and a fine line sets in his lips as he pauses to think about my request. “Morgan, maybe you should go to your grandparent’s house, too.”

  “Fuck that –” I start, but Tac interrupts.

  “Rhys, he has some pretty decent contacts that could lead us toward finding those girls.” He pauses and glances at me with hefty seriousness before looking back at Rhys. “He could be the link to your favorite ghost.”

  “What are you talking about?” I laugh, “A ghost?” I continue chuckling until they both turn and stare at me confidently. “If you want my help, you’ll seriously need it explain that shit.”

  “It’s none of your concern, Morgan.” Rhys turns toward Tac and orders, “And you, shut it.” Strolling out of the kitchen after retrieving another beer from the fridge, Rhys leaves and Tac chuckles under his breath.

  “Dude,” I recap to Tac, “I’m so in. Just tell me what’s up and I’ll get you whatever you need.”

  He chuckles deeper while shaking his head. “Stubborn just like that sister of yours.” He pulls a straight face and narrows his eyes at me. “All right, I’ll go against Rhys on this, but if you screw this up, it will be me that kicks your ass before he does. Understand?” He arches an eyebrow up and glares waiting for my reply.

  I swallow hard and nod. “Just tell me that all of this will get the girls back and I’ll give you any damn thing you want.”

  Folding his arms over his chest, he leans back into his chair. “If your contacts go along the same lines as what you provided me with before, it’s all but assured that you will be the key to getting them back, and possibly handing over the one thing Rhys wants more than anything.” His cryptic message confuses the hell out of me and the anxiety about his request slices through my veins like a kilned blade, but I shove that shit down deep, burying it away rather than dealing with it. I nod agreeably. “Sweet, then what I’m about to tell you, Morgan, requires the most delicate handling. If I so much as detect that you will defect on me or this mission, you better hide.” A menacing grin spreads across his face. “And keep in mind; I am a professional man-tracker. I will have your balls.”

  Chapter Three

  Breesan

  My cell phone beeps, indicating I have a message. “Sorry,” I offer Casandria before standing to retrieve it. I sigh when I see that it’s a text from Marcus. Thank God.

  MARCUS: on my way back to you, baby

  ME: Good…need 2 talk

  MARCUS: u ok?????

  ME: Had something come up

  ME: ok & missed u

  MARCUS: missed u bad, baby

  MARCUS: c u soon

  After being completely engrossed in finally hearing from Marcus, I glance up and find Casandria staring at me with an odd expression. Her eyebrows narrow in deeply while a fine line draws hard across her lips like a tight bowstring on an archer’s bow.

  “Is that a boy?” she asks, shifting her tense air to a softening grin.

  “Yes,” I answer flatly, returning my phone back down to the desk, wanting to avoid discussing my boyfriend with a virtual stranger.

  “With that glowing smile dominating your face, I assume he is pretty special,” she speculates again, tilting her head slightly and stretching her smile brighter. Unable to fight the candid and vast delight after hearing from Marcus, I blush under her scrutiny and then surrender with a smile, too. She giggles and I roll my eyes at our first cliché mother-daughter moment.

  “I am going to take a quick shower. If you want to wait downstairs for me, I won’t be long. Don’t leave, okay? I have more questions.”

  “Of course.” She walks out of my bedroom without another word, and I follow her to the door, closing and locking it.

  “Damn,” I whisper, feeling like I have stepped out of my body and I’m just watching everything change and become something I can’t understand.

  I walk into the bathroom and manage to make it through a shower while my mind runs on autopilot and my movements are robotic. Could Casandria be telling me the truth about my dad and Julia? My stepmother is the most evil person I know, so I can totally see her saying those hateful things, but was my dad really sleeping with her behind Casandria’s back?

  Crap, I got so distracted by her recounting why she wasn’t involved in my life for nineteen years that I forgot to ask her how she got inside my house without the alarm code. Needing answers now, I rush through the remainder of my shower. After dressing, I pull my wet hair into a ponytail and jog down the stairs. I hear Casandria speaking in a hushed voice when I round the corner. I pause briefly before entering the room, wondering if she’s talking to someone on the phone.

  “Everything will be okay.” She sighs and then confidently declares, “You can trust me where Breesan is concerned; I will not allow anything to go wrong.” Warning sirens blare in my mind that maybe I was wrong about trusting her alibi so quickly. What is she up to?

  “Shouldn’t Breesan be down soon?” Marcus is here already? His voice, normally so controlled, sounds like it’s laced with anger and edginess.

  Hearing him makes my heart leap with an overpowering joy. Needing to see him this instant is an understatement. Rushing to greet him, I turn the corner quickly, entering the kitchen and finding Casandria’s hand lying precariously on his upper arm. Stunned, I stop and they both snap their gazes up to look at me. She drops her hand as if she had been stung, taking a seat at the table. Marcus walks over to me with an almost embarrassed look on his face. That was weird.

  “Hey,” he breathes, taking my hand and interlocking our fingers. He smiles and I offer a strained smile back before I glance over at Casandria who is watching us intently. She glances away quickly and internally my warning tone ascends.

  “You met?” I wonder how long he has been here and why he seems almost casual about her being in my house.

  “Yeah,” Marcus conveys with a touch of disbelief in his voice while pulling a puzzled look. He lowers his voice so only I can hear him, indicates with his thumb toward her so only I can see, and expresses, “Weird, huh?” I combined a nod with a grunt, but really what I want to say, like a true smart ass after witnessing t
heir odd behavior is, ‘You can say that again.’ Instead, I shut out the warning alarms popping off in my head and tell myself that he is just being hospitable to her for me.

  “Sorry I took so long,” I offer, staring up at him. “I had no idea you were already back on the island.”

  Looking down at me, he smiles brighter. “It’s okay, Breesan. I guess I could have shared that with you when I texted earlier.” Breesan? He usually calls me baby.

  Stepping around Marcus, I catch Casandria watching us again and say, “Casandria, I hate to be rude, but I need to speak with Marcus privately.” She nods and I add, “If you want to hang out down here, we’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  She smiles and her eyes sparkle when she answers, “Yes, thank you. I would like that very much.”

  Taking Marcus by the hand, we make our way up to my room. I shut the door and turn around, finding him staring at me intently.

  Pointing toward the door, he says, “That is some seriously crazy shit.”

  “Yeah,” I sigh as an annoyed puff passes over my lips. I walk over to my bed, sitting down on the edge, and stare at him a few moments. I wonder if what I witnessed in the kitchen is appropriate behavior for complete strangers or if something else is going on altogether. That’s stupid. Marcus wouldn’t betray me, and he doesn’t know her, I remind myself. “Sorry, I didn’t want you to find out about her that way.”

  “Don’t worry about me. Are you okay? I mean that’s really a lot to take in.” His eyes grow wide. “She’s your mom? That’s just fucked up. What has she told you about where she has been?” The detective in him makes his appearance.

  “She fed me some really messed-up bullshit that I’m having a hard time swallowing. She believes that my dad really loved Julia and that he dumped her after I died.” He looks as confused as I feel. “She said the hospital told her that I died in childbirth.” Narrowing his eyes, he walks over, sits beside me and takes my hand again. “I don’t understand it, Marcus. My whole life they let me believe that my mother died. I blamed myself for years and shut people out because I thought I was responsible for killing her. But then they told her that I was dead, too. What the hell?”