Page 21 of Vision of Truth

“Julie! Sabrina!” Debris cracked under his boots as he cleared the pile of rubble. The scent of the explosive still rippled through the air, ironically sweet. Suffering spritzed with marzipan. His heart pounded at the empty couch in the panic room. Anxiety bubbled. They would’ve hidden. Jules would’ve taken Sabrina and ran into the other part of the house if she’d sensed something was off. Or would she have? Maybe she expected him and Rowan to come through the door, not a fucking explosive. Each room they cleared without sign of the girls was hopeful torture. Hopeful because he hadn’t seen a speck of blood indicating they were injured. Torture because if they were taken their reality might be worse than death.

“Don’t,” Rowan barked.

“The house is empty.” The breath was sawing in and out of his lungs. Instinctually, he knew exactly what Rowan meant. Their ability to silently communicate and read each other’s body language could mean the difference between life of death. “They’re gone. Anything could be happening—”

“Stop. Emotion doesn’t belong here.”

To an outsider, his teammate’s words would sound harsh, but Rowan was right. Letting frayed threads of anxiety and panic to enter his mind and body would only weaken the chances of a successful rescue mission. He fought to find that cold, detached place he’d only ever been able to reach in battle. Embraced it.

Rowan nodded, sensing the change. “We’ll find them.”

They began to review the security tapes. His body was trembling with adrenaline, demanding action, but the logical side of him knew the video feed would give them more information than forging wildly through the forest. Still, every second they spent fixated on the video had his skin crawling. He wiped his damp hands against the sides of his pants before clenching his fists again. The ache in his fingers, the bite in his palms, grounded him. There was a blur on the screen, and his heart lurched.

“There. Rewind it.” He gripped Rowan’s shoulder, holding his breath. He swore, unbridled anger rushing to the surface, as two men breached the safe house before the smoke from the explosive cleared. They came out less than two minutes later each carrying a limp form tossed over their shoulder like a rucksack. Jules and Sabrina. So goddamn still.

“Fuck!” He whirled, hands diving into his hair, tugging at the roots. Christ, he’d never felt so helpless. He turned, training his gaze back on the screen. The men were carelessly running through the tunnel, their captive’s heads bouncing with each stride. It took ten minutes to pick up their trail on one of the outdoor cameras, more to follow them to the property line. One thing Rowan wasn’t lacking was security cameras, and they had led them to a side street in the neighboring town where the men had left their car.

“That’s as far as my cameras go,” Rowan said, guilt audible in his voice.

“We know more now than we did an hour ago. I have to find them, Rowan. Need to move.” Bile rose when he let his mind go to dark places. What could be happening with each second that ticked by. Julie was strong. A survivor. She’d know he was coming and would hang on. He’d wasted so much time resisting what flowed between them like water. Essential. Healing.

“We have no way of telling which way they went until we can access more videos.” A blue light flashed on one of the monitors. Rowan hunched over the computer to enlarge the screen.

“We’ll bring the men inside one by one. Interrogate until we know more.” His mind was in a dark place, he wouldn’t be composed during his questioning. Didn’t care about the tactics he had to use to get information.

“The Unified Brotherhood has higher-ups at the FBI on their payroll. I doubt the minions out there have a clue why they’re here. The men who took Jules and Sabrina meant to sacrifice them in order to get what they wanted. Left them to be killed or take the fall.”

“I shouldn’t have left her.” The pain in the center of his chest, bone-deep loss and self-reproach, howled through him.

“We both made that decision. It was the best one with the information we had at the time.” His teammate’s posture went rigid, putting him on alert. Rowan stood, knocking back the chair. “We’ve got intruders … or reinforcements.” He stepped out of the way, giving Isaac a better view of the screen.

For the first time since they’d walked into the empty safehouse did he draw a full breath. He broke into a run, Rowan’s boots pounding behind him as they raced back through the tunnel. How the hell they’d arrived so fast he had no idea but he was damn thankful they had. Leaves crackled beneath their feet. There was no point in being stealthy now. Gus and Kinley spotted them and began moving through the forest, while Easton hung back, observing each agent with crisp focus.

The group of uniformed FBI agents were already getting the restrained men into standing positions for transport. The group must be comprised of a trusted few, because the last he’d spoken with Easton, he wasn’t sure where he could turn—even among his own team. Guilt slammed him hard. He’d left the most precious person in his life unguarded. Gus had trusted him to keep her safe. They all had. Instead he’d made a judgement call that had devastating consequences. He had to get her back. Any other outcome would be unthinkable.

Sickening dread sliced through him as his gaze connected with Easton. His brother’s face was drawn, tight lines of stress imprinting his expression. “We need to go somewhere private. There’s been some developments,” he said, catching up to Gus and Kinley as they approached.

“Julie and Sabrina are gone.” His voice was cold, hard. He needed to shut off his emotions or the pain would destroy him. The air that was chilled before iced over into arctic. His brothers’ faces were pain stricken as the blow of his words landed home. Kinley, who had experienced the horror of being held captive twice, blanched.

Gus’s breath was ragged, his hands closed in tight fists. The muscles in his neck corded, as if he was trying to stifle a scream of pure agony. Rage passed over Easton’s face and he lifted his cellphone, punching a button to dial out. “I need a helicopter.” He rattled off coordinates and disconnected without another word. “Cabin,” Easton barked, already pacing in the direction of the worn structure that concealed a fortress beneath—one he’d considered nearly impenetrable when they first arrived. He’d let his comfort take over, let the lust for Julie cloud his reason. Kinley stepped up beside him as they closed the distance toward the house. The slight weight of her hand landing on his arm, the gentle squeeze, was more kindness than he deserved. The door of the cabin creaked as Gus pushed it open, and their boots scuffed against the floor kicking up dust.

Easton turned to face them. “The FBI received a box from the Brotherhood. Inside was a severed finger. Rushed testing tells us it belongs to Agent Dawson.”

More bile rose. For one horrifying moment, he thought the finger might belong to Julie or Sabrina, even though they’d just been taken captive. Being left to someone else’s sick whims was worse than death. God knew he had enough experience with that, and now his woman and an innocent child were in that situation.His woman.He’d wasted so much precious time with Jules trying to keep her safe from himself. Why had he been so convinced they needed to be apart? He’d thought it was the honorable thing to do—the only choice to ensure their family stayed intact. Now she was stuck in the clutches of someone who would actually do her harm, and he was the reason they only had a handful of memories together. The reason they’d spent more time apart during their adult years than together.

“Whoever made the delivery knew the area. Not only which streets to take to avoid traffic cameras, but how to get around the ones at the field office. That reinforces our idea that whoever is leaking confidential information from the FBI is from within.” His brother leaned into Kinley and the two shared a look of such profound love and respect a pang of envy shot through him. He could have what Gus had with Sasha, what Easton had with Kinley, with Julie. He loved her and would spend every moment showing her how much for the rest of their lives. He just needed to save her first.

“Anything on Dale Mancuso or Agent Nilsson?” Gus’s voice brought him back to the frigid cabin.

“I’ve been quietly looking into Mancuso. Digging through details about his life are going to raise questions I can’t afford to answer. Nilsson is a ghost, whether she was abducted and taken to the same place as Dawson or directly involved in more nefarious activities we don’t know, but my gut says Lena is innocent.”

Time was moving at an excruciating pace. They’d gone over what happened a hundred times and called in every marker they had. Planning an extraction was impossible without more intel on where they were taken. Even on missions when shit went sideways, when they were caught up in situations so fucking bleak, he’d never felt this helpless.

Chapter Sixteen

Julie had spent the last ten minutes fighting and clawing to get away from the two thugs dragging her from the cell where she’d left Sabrina alone with the body of the man who came to retrieve them. Part of her was relieved they’d left Sabrina. The other part had her breath still with terror, because it was clear she was headed for death. There was no way they’d keep her alive after she stabbed the guard over and over again. After the man fell to the ground, there was shouts and chaos around her. Two additional guards did their best to subdue her, but she wasn’t going down without inflicting maximum damage—at least as much as she could cause with her fingernails and teeth. One moment they were in the damp cellar and the next they were inside a mansion, a plush burgundy carpet beneath her violently kicking feet. Heavy drapes, antique furniture, fixtures of crystal and gold.

They entered a dining room. A lone man sat at the head of the table. The spread that was laid in front of him could be called nothing other than a feast, and the rich, savory aroma made her stomach revolt. The man was polished and refined. His light hair slicked back, a crisp white shirt beneath a sports jacket. He glanced up at the men, let his eyes roam her body and face, before tossing his head back. The roar of laughter cutting through the space was a stark contradiction to his appearance. Feral and cold.

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