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Murphy’s Viper sat waiting, parked next to where Shane’s had sat. Jumping in it, he raced after his brother, certain he’d never catch up with him. When he did, the sight of the vehicle lying on its top, tires spinning, filled him with such gut-wrenching fear he swore he felt his strength bleeding from his body.
Until he saw his brother crawling from the wreckage. Stumbling to his feet, he was screaming something, and kicked the car only to fall to his knees when his booted foot connected with it.
Sliding to a stop, Murphy jumped from the car and raced to his brother, the sight of the blood on his face, his torn shirt, spurring him to ensure the damage wasn’t life threatening.
“Shane, damn it, stand the fuck down,” he snarled.
“I’m not one of your fucking soldiers.” Shane rounded on him, animalistic rage pulling his expression into a snarl and roughening his voice with deadly fury. “Get her back!”
He was suddenly in Murphy’s face, his fingers fisted in the shirt Murphy wore as he stared at his brother in shock.
“What?”
“Get her back!” Shane screamed, the grief on his face a terrible thing for Murphy to see. “Damn all of you. Damn you.” He sank to his knees, staring at his hands, shaking his head slowly. “Damn all of you. Just get her back.”
He couldn’t feel her anymore. Her screams had echoed in his head, begging him to help her, only to be silenced just as quickly. And with the silence came the complete absence of her. That fragile connection Sebastian had called her siren song was just gone. Her song completely silent.
And he couldn’t bear it. How was he supposed to live without that?
When he’d learned she’d married he’d nearly killed the bastard who had married her. He still wanted to kill … her husband and whoever had dared to separate him and Sebastian from her. Whoever had dared.
Lifting his head, he focused blearily on his brother.
“I’ll kill him,” he snarled. “Whoever did this. I’ll kill him.”
“Find him and I’ll help you.” Kneeling in front of him, Murphy placed his hand on his brother’s shoulder, the vow all he had to give the baby brother he so treasured. “Find him, Shane, and I swear to you, I’ll help you.”
8
She slipped into the house, using skills she’d learned over the summer in Madrid. And she was quite proud of what she’d learned as well. She managed to sneak right into the senator’s house without tripping alarms or alerting security. Just as her trainers had taught her to do.
God, she just loved the CIA. They rocked.
What didn’t rock was the past months of unreturned calls and messages she’d sent to her only and best friend, Alyssa. Summer owed Alyssa and her parents more than her life. But to Alyssa she owed a debt that could never be repaid. One she’d sworn she would at least pay the interest on by ensuring her friend’s protection.
They’d lost touch after Alyssa’s visit to Madrid, though. It was partly her own fault, Summer knew. Her training had been hell. The limited amount of time she had to put into it without alerting her brothers to her new vocation had required more hours in the day than she’d had.
When she’d pulled her head out of her ass a month ago to realize Alyssa hadn’t called, texted, or attempted to get hold of her in any way, she’d begun calling. To no avail. Then she’d begun texting. When Alyssa hadn’t answered the texts Summer had come straight to D.C., once she’d landed in the States again.
She’d learned immediately that Alyssa had married.
Married. Without letting her best friend know? Oh, the girl was going to pay for that one. Summer was supposed to be her maid of honor, no matter what.
Moving quietly through the house and up the servants’ stairs to the second floor, she paused at the doorway that led to the long open hall where the family suites were located. As she tilted her head, the sound of sobs barely drifting from the master suite caused Summer’s heart to clench with dread.
That was Margot crying. The woman titled the Ice Bitch because of her supposed lack of emotion? Crying?
Of course Summer knew the title was undeserved, but still, Margot never had cried. Not in all the years Summer had known her.
Senator Hampstead was out of town, which meant Alyssa’s mother should be alone. She’d better be alone anyway.
Moving to the door, Summer frowned. It was partially open, as though Margot was expecting someone, or listening for someone. Stepping inside, she paused, staring at Margot as suspicion began to rise inside her.
“Tears?” she asked softly as Margot moved quickly to her feet, attempting to dry her soaked face. “What did you do to Alyssa? She hasn’t answered my calls or texts, so you must be involved. What the fuck did you do to her, Margot?”
The woman was a robot, Summer sometimes thought. Oh, Margot loved Alyssa, but she simply had no idea how to be a mother, even after all these years.
Or did she?
