Font Size:  

“Tell her or I will,” Bane said.

“It’s not my story to tell,” Draegan said, biting back the urge to rip Bane apart.

“You’ve got that about right. It isn’t your story, but it’s part of Trouble’s history. Isn’t it? Don’t you think the residents deserve to know why you really set up this retreat here?”

“It isn’t a retreat,” Draegan corrected him. “It’s a town, a community, a place where folks can live freely without looking over their shoulder.”

“Retreat, town, whatever you want to call it—Trouble is here because you wanted to protect Markie.”

“So what if I did! Markie had a right to feel safe like anyone else.”

“You can’t keep him safe forever, Draegan. You can’t build walls high enough or put enough guards in the tower to protect him from what’s coming for him.”

“Then I’ll die trying.”

Chapter Thirteen

Awkward didn’t quite cover how Serena felt when she stepped out of her bedroom and joined Bane and Draegan in the kitchen. She’d taken a speed shower, primarily because she was concerned and curious.

The concern stemmed from fear. Without someone to run interference, Bane and Draegan would probably try to kill one another.

If they stopped snarling at one another then perhaps they’d talk out that accusation Bane had made and that’s where Serena’s curiosity took over. She didn’t want to miss anything.

Someone had made coffee, so she helped herself to a cup and sat in between the two brooding men. She glanced around the small area and decided things must have gone fairly well. Nothing was broken.

“Markie was sought out by Jims Vance,” Draegan said, an odd expression stamped upon his face. “You’ve heard the story—at least part of it—about the Vance brothers. Years ago—and most assume it was around the same time the younger Vance brothers became involved in the family’s cult-like activities—the brothers sought out patsies, people they believed could pass for them should they be chosen for their family’s sacrifice.

“Jims sought out Markie from the beginning. Markie believed he was nothing more than his one-night stand, but the wicked truth was Jims had chosen Markie as a potential replacement. They were similar in build and around the same height. Heck, there were a lot of similarities, right down to their personalities and companion preferences.

“When Mac and I went to the Vance property searching for Markie, we overheard a conversation between Dons and someone we’d never seen before—and someone we never saw after our visit to the Vance place. Anyway, it was then when we figured out Markie had been tagged with some sort of locator chip, sort of like what the animal shelters put in between the shoulder blades of newly adopted pets. Remember, we were in high school back then. In those days, there wasn’t a discussion about implanted microchips for tracking or identification purposes.”

“Why would the Vance brothers want to track Markie?”

“Let him finish,” Bane said, seemingly supportive of Draegan then.

“Markie’s ancestors were involved in all sorts of suspicious activity. They were original members of a cult that originated in the UK and they betrayed a code of silence. Because of their betrayal, none of his family members were permitted to let a male child live beyond his fourteenth birthday.”

“Wait a minute. When did you and Markie become friends?”

“We were good friends in elementary school, but Markie didn’t spend a lot of time with us until he was in high school. Anyway I’m getting to that.

“When the Vance brothers found out who Markie was and what he meant to this secret society—collectively called the Cobalt Organization—they entered his name in a database for martyrs and patsies.

“Since Markie shouldn’t have survived past his fourteenth birthday, his name is always flagged first when someone is looking for a human for their sacrificial activities.”

“Oh, Draegan. That’s terrible.”

“He’s been first on that particular list since he was sixteen.” Draegan looked incredibly pained then. “Markie spent a lot of time at our house because my father was feared among the locals. There were always rumors surrounding him. He was CIA or FBI. He was a Marine or a badass with a cause. He was this or that and the truth is, no one really knew much about him at all. Markie had a room at our house because when he was with us, he was untouchable.

“Truth is, Dad probably knew exactly who Markie was and protected him. He had his own skeletons and looking back, it’s hard to guess whether he knew anything or nothing.

“In short, Markie has had a target on his back since he was fourteen.”

“How awful this must’ve been for him,” Serena said.

“Markie doesn’t know,” Draegan said quietly.

“What do you mean he doesn’t know?”

Source: www.allfreenovel.com