Carter Reed 2 (Carter Reed #2)(68)

They didn’t answer.

The guard picked me up and carried me to the front door. The other two followed behind him as the car pulled away. I tried to twist around. I wanted to see the car leave. Maybe there was a code for the gate? I could escape and use that to get out? But no. The car paused in front of the gate, and it opened a beat later. That’s when I saw the camera. Someone had activated the gate. That meant they’d be watching for me, too.

As the guards and I entered the house, passing between the two large posts, I looked up and saw more cameras. I counted five, all pointed at different directions. This place was a fortress. And okay, my fear officially started to spread. The shivers had been a forewarning. Now, full-blown panic. My lips started to go numb, and my hands shook.

“Emma?”

Cole came down the stairs, frowning as he studied the guys with me. The guards holding me lowered me to the floor, but my knees sagged, and I couldn’t stand. Thank god. My lips moved, and I thought those words, but they didn’t come out. I couldn’t talk, but I was so relieved to see Cole.

He stopped halfway down and tilted his head to the side, still studying the men. Then a wall came over his face, and he was unreadable. His hand lifted from the bannister, and his foot moved up a stair. He began moving backward, away from us.

“Boss?” the guy holding me said.

At that moment, a door down the hallway opened. A man swept out, followed behind by six more giants. They matched the giants around me—all robot-like movements, black coats, and staring straight ahead. The guy leading them stopped in front of me. He looked closely at me, his lips pressed together, and my eyes traced the scar that went across his forehead. Five of the other men went around him and walked past us to the stairs.

“Gene?” Cole didn’t move any more.

Recognition flickered in my mind. This was Gene, a guy I’d seen with Carter before. I never liked him, and I thought he’d been killed. After Carter killed Frank Dunvan, this guy never came around again.

Instead of watching the robots around him, Cole focused on the guy in front of me. “What is this? What are you doing, and why is Emma here?”

“Because,” Gene sighed. “This has gone on long enough. I must end this before it gets out of hand.”

“Out of hand?” The men escorted Cole down the stairs. As he walked past me, he asked, “And Emma? Why is she here? You can’t do anything to her. Carter will find out. He’ll kill you.”

Carter trusted Gene. I remembered that now. He was his mentor.

But he didn’t like me. I had known that right away. Still, that couldn’t be this guy. He’d been wary of me before, but now his features were cold, a look of impatience on his face—like he needed to deal with us before he could go home for the night, like we were a chore for him.

Saying nothing, Gene stepped aside and the men led Cole and me into a back room. He followed behind. The room was massive. Bookshelves lined the walls, with a set of couches and a chair at one end of the space, and a desk and two chairs at the other. A large window overlooked a backyard covered with snow. I searched for the brick wall that surrounded the house, but I couldn’t see it. A row of trees blocked my view, further encasing this house. As I kept looking—there must be some way of escaping—Gene walked over and closed the curtains.

We were in complete privacy now.

The men shoved me into one of the chairs by the desk and Cole into the other. A flicker of sympathy flared in his eyes before he shut it down and turned to face Gene, who now stood behind the desk. Everything about Cole was stiff. Gene wasn’t. He leaned forward, resting his hands on the back of the desk chair and let out a deep breath, looking from Cole to me and back again.

I didn’t think this was the time to start yelling, but I wanted to. Every cell in my body screamed for me to run, try to fight, try to leave. It was useless. There were so many men between the door and me. And if there were cameras in the front of the house, there’d be more behind it.

I was a prisoner, whether I wanted to accept it or not.

Please, Cole. I prayed to myself. All those training sessions with Carter need to pay off. Surely he was preparing now, and when he fought back—that’s who Carter would’ve considered a brother, someone who fought back, someone who would try to save me, too—I would do anything and everything to help him.

A weapon. I would need a weapon.

“What is this, Gene?” Cole asked in a low voice.

I scanned the room for a weapon, but paused and looked at Cole for a moment. He was so stiff in that chair. His hands were flat on his legs, and he stared right at Gene. His jaw clenched, and then his eyes narrowed.

Weapon. Weapon. I needed something.

Gene laughed. It came out as a smooth baritone, but I couldn’t hear any amusement in the chuckle. “You, Cole. You’re what ‘this’ is all about. None of this was supposed to happen.” He shook his head as another bitter laugh trickled from him. “The goddamn bloodline prince. That’s what you are. Your family was supposed to be wiped out, but nope. Carter saved you, and then he hid you from everyone. The f*cking weapon I helped build did his job too well.”

“Weapon I helped build.” I held my breath as those words registered. Gene helped create Carter. “Did his job too well.” I glanced at Cole, who still showed no reaction. My god. Gene wanted Cole dead.

“You sent the Bartels to me,” Cole said.