Rebecca Zanetti - Sweet Revenge

In the corner, Madison’s heart rate picked up. Matt tuned in his enhanced hearing to check out the commander. His heart rate and breathing remained calm and normal. Nothing ever shook the soldier.

The air shifted—and Matt knew the commander would move before he did so. In fact, Matt knew exactly where he’d go and how far he’d move. Someday Matt would take his special ability to perceive movement, one the commander remained unaware of, and kill the man. Without question.

The commander stepped closer and peered down. A gleam lightened his fathomless eyes. “You have a deal. If one of you fails at training or on a mission, you all get… transferred .”

Fear tasted like thick dust. In that moment, Matt learned the reality of making a deal with the devil. “I understand.” Turning on his heel, he exited the room, not waiting for permission to leave. He made it to the barracks he shared with his younger brothers before dashing into the latrine and puking out his guts. He finished on hands and knees, body heaving.

A towel appeared on his shoulder.

Wiping his mouth, he turned around and sat on the freezing concrete, his back to the stall door. Through the tears in his eyes, he studied Nate.

Nate leaned against the door frame. At about ten years old, he was tall and skinny, but he had the same build as Matt, and would probably soon fill out. He lifted his chin, gray eyes swirling with terror. “Well?”

“Jory can stay.”

Nate breathed out. “Good. Okay. That’s good.”

Matt shook his head. His pulse raced, and he made an effort to slow down his heart so he wouldn’t puke again. “Maybe, maybe not. If one of us fails in a test or on a mission, all four of us are dead.”

Nate jerked back, and he frowned. Tilting his head to the side, he slowly nodded. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Heat roared through Matt’s lungs as he shoved to his feet. “How is any of this okay?”

“Family is all we have. If one of us goes, I want to go, too.” Nate smiled. “Besides, we’re the Gray brothers. Even though we don’t have a last name, we’re brothers, and we ain’t going nowhere.”

“Say it right,” Matt snapped.

Nate straightened. “We aren’t going anywhere. Sorry.”

Matt closed his eyes. Even his skin hurt. He couldn’t worry about last names right now. Someday, when they found freedom, they’d choose a real family name. “It’s not okay. Not anymore.” His lids flipped open, and his voice went hoarse. “I’m gonna have to train them, train you, until you guys hate me.” That idea scared him more than the commander killing him. All he had were his brothers.

“We won’t hate you.” Nate grabbed his arm. “I trust you, Mattie. You’re better than the commander.”

God. Nathan’s blind faith was as difficult to face as Jory’s innocence or Shane’s hope. But Matt had studied psychology the last few years in training, and he understood Nathan’s need to believe. If Nate believed Matt was invincible, the kid could sleep at night—at least for a while. Responsibility weighed like cinder blocks on Matt’s shoulders, and the urge to escape narrowed the room into a tunnel. But that wasn’t who he was, and he wouldn’t leave his brothers. “I won’t let anything happen to you, Nate. I promise. The four of us… We’re never alone . Ever.”

“ Never alone ,” Nate repeated, standing even taller.

“Has the commander discovered any of your abilities beyond the special senses?” Matt asked, his mind calculating plans and a possible future for his family.

“No. He knows we can hear and see better than most people. I haven’t told him or Dr. Madison about anything else.”

“Good. From now on, we don’t tell them anything.” Which would probably get them killed if the commander found out they were hiding information. With the commander almost sending Jory away, he’d put himself on Matt’s enemy list. There was no returning to ally—Matt’s world had to be absolute or he couldn’t survive it.

Nate nodded. “I won’t tell the commander shit, and now we’ll train Shane and Jory—make them tough, too. Someday, we’re getting out of here.”

Matt exhaled. He’d do his best to find freedom for his brothers, but it wasn’t going to be easy. Heartburn tingled up from his gut. “I need your help.”

Nate’s chest puffed out. “Anything.”

Matt rubbed his chin. His mind cleared, and his body relaxed as he committed fully to his plan. “I’ll push them and train them, but you need to protect them. If I go too far, you have to tell me.”

Nate sobered, his eyes darkening and making him look years older. “Is there any such thing as too far ? In our lives?”

“Probably not.” Matt shoved up his sleeves, mentally listing drills for the rest of the day as he hustled to grab his gear from the barracks. “I guess we’re about to find out.”

Present Day

Stab wounds hurt worse than bullet wounds.

Crouched on asphalt in the dark, Matt Dean leaned against the brick building and scanned the vacant alley. Garbage cans lined the doorways of the now-closed businesses. The place smelled like honeysuckle.

What kind of an alley smelled like honeysuckle?

He’d been stabbed in Dallas two days ago and had to get as far away as possible from what now must be a bloody crime scene. The staples he’d used to keep his flesh together had all fallen out during the last hour after riding over rough roads, and blood stuck his T-shirt to his skin. Time to staple again.

Two of the men in Texas who’d jumped him would never jump, much less breathe, again. The other two might wish for death when they awoke. How the hell had they found him?

His phone had been damaged in the fight, and he’d had no choice but to continue on the mission, hop on his bike, and ride across three states. Out of their reach.

Time to break into one of the businesses and call his brothers.

He shook off his leather jacket and glanced at his destroyed shirt.

A door opened several yards down. He stiffened, reaching for the knife in his boot. At two a.m., nobody should be in the alley.

“Eugene?” a female voice whispered.

The tone shivered right down his spine. Sexy and frustrated, the tenor promised heated nights. He’d always had a thing for a woman’s husky voice.

So he turned his head.

She stood in the moonlight in a compact yoga outfit, her mahogany hair up in one of those clips. Damn, he’d love to let that mass fly. Tiny but toned, she reminded him of a pretty figurine he’d seen in a store once. Feminine and mysterious.

Blood loss must be getting to him.

“Eugene?” the woman called again, holding the door open with her hip. She glanced down the far alley, alertness in her stance. “Your walk should be finished by now, and enough is enough. Your moodiness is getting to me.”

Who the hell was Eugene? It was a matter of seconds before the woman noticed Matt, and he didn’t have the energy to fight the mysterious Eugene. Irritation grated along his skin at the sudden, albeit beautiful, distraction. He needed neither witnesses nor questions right now.

She gasped when she saw him. Pretty green eyes widened, the pupils expanding. Her heart rate sped up enough that he could hear each thump with his enhanced hearing.

Great. Now she’d run inside and call the police.

Except she didn’t.

The woman rushed toward him, dropping to her knees. “Oh my God. You’re hurt.” She swallowed several times and levered away. Her eyes were the color of an emerald he’d stolen from a Colombian drug lord years ago while on a mission. “I’ll call an ambulance.”

Surprise kept him immobile for two seconds. She wanted to help him? Why? He narrowed his gaze and caught her arm, careful not to break the delicate bones. “I’m fine.” Pressing his other palm against brick, he shoved himself up and helped her along. “Though I’d accept an aspirin.”