In His Keeping (Slow Burn #2) (22 page)

He hurriedly dressed and walked into the kitchen to prepare a cup of coffee, needing the infusion of caffeine to penetrate the haze of contented lethargy that fully encompassed him. What he wanted to do was remain in bed with Ari, his body solidly wrapped around hers so she awakened in his arms, warm and sleepy, that drowsy, contented look in those beautiful multi-colored eyes.

But he had work to do and a hell of a lot of catching up to do. The clock was ticking and they were working on a tight deadline. Every passing hour that Ari’s parents remained missing heightened the chances of them not being safely recovered.

If it were him, and he was the sort of bastard who’d use a vulnerable woman’s greatest weakness against her, he’d kill one of her parents, send her the evidence and then tell her if she didn’t meet their demands she could kiss the remaining one goodbye, too. And he’d take out the father, since he’d be a greater threat than the mother.

It would destroy Ari. It was something she’d never recover from, and he’d bear the weight of that responsibility—his inability to follow through on his promises—for all time. Ari would never forgive him, and he’d never forgive himself.

As he stirred in a dash of sugar in the strong brew to cut the sharpness just enough to make it palatable, his cell phone rang. It was a ringtone assigned to a noncontact, and as he pulled up the phone to check the incoming call, he frowned when he saw “blocked” on the screen.

Normally he wouldn’t answer an unidentified caller with at least some means of tracing the call but given the current status of his latest case, he couldn’t afford to miss anything.

“Hello?” he clipped out, forgoing his usual greeting of “Beau Devereaux.” No sense giving the caller any information he—or she—didn’t already know, and if it was a wrong number, he hardly wanted to relate his name that now had his number attached to it and showed up in the caller’s phone log.

“Mr. Devereaux, you have my daughter, and it’s imperative you keep her safe and out of sight. The people after her will stop at nothing to get to her.”

Beau’s forehead wrinkled, anger nipping at his nape as he tightened his grip on the cell phone. “Gavin Rochester? What the hell? Do you have any idea how frantic your daughter is? What the hell is wrong with you? You’re putting her through hell.”

“I’m not Gavin Rochester,” the caller said wearily. The man sounded fatigued and after Beau’s initial anger, he caught the thread of fear in the other man’s voice. “Ari Rochester is my biological daughter.”

Beau was on full alert now, automatically turning to ensure Ari wasn’t coming up behind him. After ensuring the coast was clear, he strode to the security room, gained access and then secured the door behind him.

The room was soundproof, and all the video feeds tying in the entire security field around—and inside—the house were displayed on the monitors. His main concern was Ari, so he made sure he was standing facing the image of her still curled contentedly in his bed.

“What do you mean her biological father?” Beau demanded, returning his attention solidly on the caller now that he was assured Ari was in his line of view. “Swear to God, if this is some crackpot call I’ll track you down and feed your own testicles to you.”

There was an uncomfortable silence as the other man seemed to be gathering courage—or at the very least the right words.

And then another thought occurred to Beau. How in the hell had this person, no matter his wild claims, gotten Beau’s private cell phone number. A number that only a few people had. His brothers. Dane and Eliza. Zack. Not even Anita had access to this number. He had a work cell and a personal cell. His person cell rarely got used since most of his brothers’ or the other single-digits people who had the number also happened to be co-workers, so usually it was just easier for them—and more natural—to punch in the number to a phone he’d answer no matter what he was doing or what time of the day the call was placed. Although last night? He’d have thrown it through the damn window if it had rung.

“How did you get this number?” Beau asked, his quick temper already displaying signs that his patience was waning. Fast.

The man also demonstrated his impatience with the flurry of questions from Beau. Ignoring them all, he simply plunged ahead.

“You’re right in that Gavin Rochester is her father. It’s a well-deserved title. He earned it. The last thing I want to do is to hurt Ari. I was young, cocky, arrogant. I’m sure you know the type.” The man claiming to be Ari’s father—bio father—cracked or rather his words did.

Indeed Beau did because he’d been that kid while in college, and he was pulled to others who displayed the same traits. While Beau had been saddled with a hell of a lot of responsibility at a very young age, college had been his form of rebellion even as he continued to shoulder a hell of a lot of responsibility for his family.

“Yeah,” Beau said faintly. “I know the type.”

The other man plunged ahead as if giving Beau no time to process much less question. And there were a lot of damn questions brimming in Beau’s mind. Questions he wanted answers to because Ari damn well deserved those answers.

“She’s in a lot of danger. You need to be aware that these people will stop at nothing to get their hands on Ari. They know what she can do. What she’s capable of. And they’re determined to use her, and it’s not for good,” he said quietly. “We—I—thought she would be safe with Gavin Rochester. He had a certain reputation for ruthlessness. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. To give up that baby girl. But I knew we couldn’t keep her safe. That we didn’t have the resources or the means to ensure she was never found.”

“Just who is we?” Beau demanded.

There was a pause and when the man spoke again, sorrow was reflected in the soft words. “Her mother and I.”

“There’s a lot I don’t understand,” Beau cut in. “But we’ll start with the most pertinent. How could these “people” as you call them—and we’ll get to who they are in a moment—but how could they possibly know a mere infant could possess the kind of powers she would later exhibit? Her adopted parents didn’t discover it until she was nearly a year old.”

“Because she was an experiment,” the man cut in. There was suddenly a sense of urgency in his voice and he became more hushed. “Look, I don’t have much time. So you need to know what sort of men you’re up against. The whole reason they discovered Ari, and it was years ago, not just days ago, as you may think, given the media attention raised when she did use her powers.”

Beau was nodding, though the other man couldn’t see. Zack had pegged this one entirely. It had been a very thought out, methodical plot to infiltrate Gavin Rochester’s ranks, gain his trust, and then when he least expected, strike and take Ari. But where and why?

“How did they find out?” Beau said, tired of this delicate dance between them.

“Ari’s mother and I were selected to participate in a program for the development and research of psychic powers. We both possessed unusual talents. Ari’s mother was dirt poor and struggling just to make ends meet. They hired her to be a surrogate mother, not really explaining that the baby wasn’t going to an actual family. They posed as a legitimate adoption agency specializing in surrogacy. They played on her vulnerability and she agreed to carry a child because they offered her a lot of money, free housing, bills and expenses paid.

“I was the sperm donor. Same song, same dance. Only Ari’s mother and I fell in love. And when we discovered, by accident, just what this organization really was and what their plans for our child was, we ran. And we kept running. Each brush was more difficult to escape than the last, and we knew when Ari was born, there was simply no way for us to be able to keep running when we had a baby to support. So we went to . . . your father for help, and he directed us to the Rochesters, who by all accounts were unable to have children of their own.”

Beau’s response—reaction—was explosive. “What the hell? What does my father have or rather what
did
he have to do with any of this? You better damn well explain yourself.”

Beau was struggling to take it all in. It was like a bizarre science fiction movie, but it was chillingly real. All of it. It fit too well with the background information they already had on Ari and her parents. But now it was suggested that his father was in some way involved? And then he remembered Gavin Rochester’s vague association with his father. His blood chilled in his veins. Gavin had been the last person—to their knowledge—to have seen their father alive. Had Gavin silenced him in order to protect Ari? Or had he done it to protect his own selfish interests?

To Beau’s seething frustration, the other man completely ignored Beau’s impassioned demand and continued as though he hadn’t just dropped a bombshell.

“They found Ari, or rather found out who had Ari, because they caught up to us and took my wife.” Pain radiated from the choked words. Grief was tangible through the phone connection and Beau automatically tightened his grip on the cell and glanced up at the monitor just to reassure himself that all was well with Ari. “They tortured her,” he said hoarsely. “They did unspeakable things for three days until she finally broke and told them who she’d left our daughter with. Then they killed her and dumped her body where I’d find her with a note that this is what happens to people who cross them. So you need to know who you’re dealing with, Mr. Devereaux. You need to know they mean business and they will not simply give up and go away. It was four years ago that they murdered my wife. And they systematically began to put the wheels in motion that would allow them access to Ari, and believe me when I say that them being thwarted just makes them all the more determined to succeed in their objective.”

Shock echoed through Beau’s mind as he grappled with the ramifications of what Ari’s biological father had just revealed. God, if they’d done that to Ari’s biological mother—a defenseless woman—then they certainly would do no less to Ari’s adopted parents. He couldn’t face Ari, if one of her parents appeared on their doorstep or in a place they knew the body would be discovered by DSS. They’d want Ari to see—to know—exactly how serious they were and it only made Beau that much more determined that they would never get their hands on her.

There was background noise and then the man spoke hurriedly. “I have to go.”

“Wait!” Beau quickly spoke up. “How do I get in touch with you?” There was a damn lot more he wanted to know from this man, particularly how his own father was involved in this complete clusterfuck.

“You don’t,” the man said tersely.

And then the call ended just like that, leaving Beau frustrated, even more questions than ever vibrating through his mind.

“Goddamn it,” Beau swore, flinging the phone toward one of the leather chairs in the security room, where it landed with a soft thud.

Once more he glanced up to the monitor, fear seizing him as he watched Ari sleep the sleep of an innocent. Someone who didn’t live in a world where women were tortured and then discarded like yesterday’s trash.

The question was whether he should tell her what he now knew to be truth. Or at least what he’d been led to believe was truth. Because it seemed his—and her—lives had been a tangle of lies from the very start.

NINETEEN

“THE
first thing I want to do is inject an undetectable tracking device on Ari as a precaution,” Beau said to the gathered members of DSS who had been called in the moment Beau had gotten off the phone with Ari’s “biological” father.

Ari had slept, very likely exhausted from the events of the last forty-eight hours, and only when his brother, Zack, Dane and Eliza had arrived on the heels of Beau’s urgent request for their presence had she stirred. He had gone to the bedroom and told her to take a nice long bath and relax, that he’d call her when breakfast was ready.

He winced over the lie, but he wasn’t ready to fill Ari in on things that may or may not be true and he needed time to go over all he’d discovered with his team before making any decisions with regard to her.

Ramie was in the kitchen, fixing the breakfast Beau had promised Ari, most likely deciding to opt out of what was likely to be a volatile meeting and difficult for her when she absorbed so much of the negative emotions in others. Beau knew for certain he didn’t want to touch his sister-in-law and subject her to his seething thoughts of murder, revenge and utter ruthlessness if it came to that. He also had no intention whatsoever of divulging the potential role his own father had in this clusterfuck until he was certain of the facts. Caleb would be enraged and objectivity would fly right out the window, to Ari’s detriment.

“Good idea. You can’t be too careful,” Dane acknowledged. “We can plan to the nth degree, but with the resources this group has and their utter ruthlessness we can’t possibly cover all angles when we don’t damn well know who and what they are and what their higher purpose is.”

“It’s obvious they have no problem torturing innocent women,” Zack said darkly. “Caleb, I’d think you’d want to lock Ramie down and make damn sure she is under strict guard 24/7 because if these assholes have already made the connection between Ari and DSS, which is obvious given they were shot at coming out of the DSS building, then no one connected to DSS, particularly their loved ones, is safe.”

Caleb’s eyes became glacial, his features carved from granite. “You can be absolutely certain I
will
protect my wife,” he said in a deadly quiet voice.

“Quinn and Tori both will be under mine and Eliza’s constant guard,” Dane said. “Though Quinn is pretty damn pissed and said he doesn’t need a goddamn babysitter and that he’s more than capable of taking care of himself.”

Beau leveled a hard stare at Dane. “I don’t give a fuck what Quinn says. You sit on him if you have to. Until this is resolved, no one in this family—or DSS—goes it alone. I expect you to inform all your guys, Dane.”

“We’re on it. We’ve got everyone on our end handled. You just worry about yourself,” Eliza said softly. “I’m concerned that you and Zack are basically going it alone with Ari. And
she’s
the primary objective. Not the rest of us.”