Lost and Found (Masters & Mercenaries: The Forgotten #2)(105)

“He mostly whined and looked sad and shit.” Erin’s brows rose at the look Ezra gave her. “Hey, who had to put up with that? This girl. I had just had a baby and I swear Case cried more than TJ.”

“Somehow I doubt that,” Ezra replied. “I got to see it from the Mia side. You know what got them back together? Case didn’t give up and he was honest with her. Even when it was painful. He told her everything he was feeling.”

“Or you could do what Theo did and fuck her until she can’t see straight. Sorry. I’m not good at the touchy-feely stuff. You should wake up Ari for that.” She glanced back into the living room and when she looked back an infinitely sad expression crossed her face. “Or don’t wake her. Let her sleep. It’s sucks to be awake sometimes. Do what Ezra says. Talk to her. Tell her all your manly feelings. It does work for most chicks. I think it’ll work for her. She already feels bad. You have to get through her guilt or it will eat her alive. Is she asleep somewhere? Should we like find her? You’re a terrible guard. Feel bad about that.”

Could he talk to Becca? He didn’t talk to anyone. He barely talked to Ari and she was his therapist. He wouldn’t know until he tried.

“You know you need help, right?” Ezra was asking Erin after he’d explained Becca was in the kitchen.

“No, I need a hot chocolate,” Erin replied.

“I’ll put a kettle on.” It was the least he could do for her. And he could make one for Becca if she liked. Perhaps they could start some kind of dialogue. If there was even a chance at getting back to where they’d been. He’d failed her. When she’d needed him to take control, he’d used that control against her. He’d listened to his own anger and guilt and not to his instincts about her.

He walked into the kitchen and stopped because Becca wasn’t alone.





“We wouldn’t do that,” Owen said.

Becca didn’t know what to believe. When she’d woken up only a few moments before, she’d found herself reaching out for him. It had been terrible when she’d remembered where she was and why Owen was sleeping in a too-small chair. Now standing here just outside the kitchen, she was reminded of all she’d lost.

Ashley Jones. She was going to have to change her name so the police couldn’t find her. She would be stuck in some office in London, and who knew when she would see the light of day again.

She’d thought briefly about running, but that would be stupid.

How was her father going to feel? How embarrassed would her little sister be?

She didn’t say anything to Owen, simply turned and walked into the kitchen. A sense of relief washed over her when she realized he was still in the dining room talking to his boss.

His boss, who happened to be ex-CIA. There were a whole bunch of ex-soldiers and operatives. Even her barista had worked for Interpol. She’d never had a chance.

She wasn’t even certain why. That was what killed her. Why had Dr. McDonald chosen her to send this mystery box to?

“Don’t freak out,” a voice said from the gloom beyond her sight.

She reached out to find the light switch. A cone of light popped on from above the sink and she saw what she hadn’t before.

Her breath caught in her throat and she really wanted to freak out. It was Steven Reasor.

He stood up, his hands out as though to show her he didn’t have a weapon. “I’m sorry. I didn’t have another place to go. Sasha snores and Dante sleep punches. I’ll go sleep in one of the cars.”

He didn’t sound like Steven Reasor. Reasor was always in control. He always sounded like he was the smartest person in the room, and also the one who would stab you the fastest, and she’d learned he hadn’t meant that figuratively.

Now that she looked at him, he seemed differently physically. Not that he didn’t have Reasor’s face. It was his face, just without the arrogance, without the hint of malice that had always hung over the young doctor.

She could do this. She could stand in the same room with him and ask a couple of questions. Owen could be in here quickly if she called out.

Was it stupid to think Owen would save her? Maybe if she thought it was about loving her, but this group wanted her alive. They apparently thought she still had something to add so yes, Owen would save her. It made logical sense. She could ask her questions.

Could she get some closure? Would standing in front of the bad guy make it easier to move on?

“You didn’t think I would recognize you.” She turned and forced herself to look at him. She was glad she’d turned down Owen’s offer of his T-shirt. Being dressed for bed would have made her feel vulnerable.

His hands came down and he sank back into the wooden, straight-backed chair he’d been in before she’d turned on the light. There was nothing on the table. No drink or phone or tablet he’d been amusing himself with. He’d been sitting in the dark with nothing but his thoughts. “No. We missed something. Or we didn’t have enough information to make a proper decision. We did try to mitigate the risk that you would know one of us.”

He sounded so defeated, the words rolling out of his mouth like they were rote and bland. This man was answering questions not because he wanted to but rather out of a sense of obligation. Again, not the Dr. Reasor she’d known.

“How would you even start to do that?”