Catching Teardrops (MAC Security 5)

Stepping back, I watch as they pick up the chair he’s attached to, making it five steps before one shouts, “What the fuck?”

My eyes widen when they slam him down onto the floor, but the legs of the chair topple with his weight and it tips back. The back of his head bangs off the ground and then I look at his face. White foam leaks from between his lips and his eyes roll into the back of his head.

“Fuck!” I run over to him, but I already know it’s too late; he’s dead. “Did you not check him?” I ask, looking up at Dex.

“Of course, we fuckin’ did.”

“Always check the teeth,” I say, standing up and shaking my head, anger coursing through my veins. “First thing you fuckin’ check! He had a goddamn cyanide capsule hidden.”

The only thing that would lead us to answers is gone and all I can see now is the red blurring my vision.

“How the hell am I meant to know that?”

“Jesus.” I run my hand through my hair while trying to calm myself down. “I’m out. I’m not cleaning this shit up.”

I storm out of the warehouse but stop when I hear a gun cock behind me. “Not so fast.”

Blowing out a deep breath, I count to five before turning around. “You don’t wanna do that,” I warn Dex, seeing the barrel of the gun only a foot away from my forehead.

“I don’t?” He raises a brow. “Why’s that?”

“Because I’ll have five shots in your chest before you can pull the trigger.” I step toward him, the barrel pressing against my forehead now. “You think I came here alone?” I chuckle at the blank look on his face, the only thing giving him away is the slight widening of his eyes. “You think I have a death wish?” I tilt my head to the weapons lining the walls. “You should never bring strangers to your main warehouse.” I smirk. “You wanted to know if I’m in on this?” I make a circle with my finger in the air. “The answer is no…” I click a button on my belt, counting to three and grinning wide when Charlie and his team barge into the warehouse with their guns drawn. “That though?” I grab the barrel of his gun with lightning speed while gripping his wrist at the same time and disarming him. I flip it around and train it on his head. “I’m in on that, you stupid fucker.”

Shouts echo around us but I don’t move from the position I’m in. I stand toe to toe with Dex, not backing down.

“You never did ask my last name, did you?” I step even closer to him. “King… Luke King.” His face pales, his head shaking, and I know what he’s thinking—what stories he’s remembering.

Luke King, cold-blooded killer of his own father. Luke King, Marine who lost all his team… twice. Luke King, man you don’t fuckin’ mess with.

I grin wider when Charlie cuffs him, looking over at me as he says, “We got him this time. Evidence too.”

Looking down at James, I groan. “Looks like my lead has disappeared.”

“You need to come to the precinct,” Charlie tells me.

Scrubbing my hands down my face, I nod before pulling my cell out to call Ty.

LILY

Ty told me Luke would be out most of the day at the precinct as soon as I got to the warehouse this morning. I knew not to ask too much about it, so instead I got on with my work, all the guys coming in to talk to me at different stages of the day.

Right now, they’re all at the meeting table in the main warehouse—apart from Dean and Luke—and I’m typing up the last file in the pile Ty had for me. It’s taken me a few days, but in that time, I’ve come to terms with several things. They always say being alone in your own head can be both a good and bad thing, and for me it’s both of those on the daily.

At night when the sun goes down and da

rkness surrounds me, I’m taken right back to the basement, or my dad’s office, but when the sun shines bright, I’m only in the here and now, able to look at things differently.

Each day gets a little better—a little brighter—and maybe that’s because I’m somewhere new with a fresh start. But I’m not stupid enough to think I’m okay. I’m far from it. I know it’s going to be a long haul to get where I need to be, to be able to walk along the street on my own again without fear of being taken back to my hell. But it’s okay because I’ll get there.

I scribble down the number of the therapist I found online, determined to call her first thing in the morning before I stand up and switch my computer off.

I’m about to walk out of the office when the phone rings. But when I turn around I realize it’s not the phone, it’s the buzzer to the gate. Ty told me how it works and what I have to press to ask who it is, so with shaky hands, I reach forward and click the button.

“Hello?”

“Lily?” My breath catches in my throat, my whole body stilling, not able to move. “Lily? Please. Let me in! I need to talk to you.” When I don’t reply, he continues, “Come on, Lil. I have no idea what’s happening. Why are you here?”

I shake my head, not able to answer my brother as his distressed voice vibrates over the line.