“So, this is some kind of suicide mission then? You don’t look well,” Aiden said.
Jeffries waved the gun around. “Good eye. I’m dying. Rare genetic disorder. Also inherited from my mother. Nothing good ever came of that bitch, I swear it.”
Aiden stared intently at the phone in his lap. So, they had been right. They knew his next move. “So what? You wanted to show us your collection before you blew the three of us up?”
“No, I wanted to tell you that I’m leaving a legacy of my own. I have my own sons, trained to kill, just like yours. And they’re out there, right now, hunting. Maybe hunting your sons.”
“If they’re stupid enough to come after my sons, they’ll get the same thing you’ll get. A slow, agonizing death,” Thomas growled.
Jeffries studied him then looked at Aiden. “But this one…this one is special, no? This one you definitely don’t view as a son. Is he important to you?”
“This isn’t about him,” Thomas said, swallowing hard.
“Let’s not,” Jeffries said, hitting the call button on the cell phone. Aiden’s blood rushed in his ears when nothing happened. Thank fuck, the signal jammer was doing its job. For now. Jeffries looked up, irritated. “How clever.”
With that, he lifted the gun and fired a shot directly into Aiden’s chest. It wasn’t the first time Aiden had been shot, but he didn’t remember much of it. He didn’t remember the searing pain or the feeling like he couldn’t breathe.
“Aiden!” Thomas shouted.
Aiden felt himself sliding off the sofa just as the window fractured beside them. He heard it more than he saw it. There was a scream, then the gun in Jeffries’s hand clattered to the floor next to him, but Aiden couldn’t move. He could do nothing but lie there.
He heard everything but couldn’t see it. The door bursting open, his brothers’ voices.
Aiden fought to keep his eyes open. There was blood everywhere. Christ, this hurt. Someone rolled him onto his back. Archer. He ripped his shirt open, grinning down at him like an idiot, slapping the bullet proof vest right over where the bullet struck. “Hurts like a motherfucker, don’t it? Wait ‘til you see the bruise you’re gonna have.”
“I can’t breathe,” Aiden said. “What’s happening?”
“Mac shot the gun out of his hand like something out of an old western,” Archer said, looking at someone—he assumed Mac—in the distance. “That bullet knocked the wind out of you. It’ll come back in a minute, just ride it out.”
“How?” Aiden wheezed. “The windows…”
“We brought all the toys, including our x-ray vision,” Noah said, dropping down beside him. “It was so fucking badass. I told you to wear the vest.” With that, he was gone once more.
Aiden assumed he was talking about the thermal imager. It wasn’t the first time they’d used it. Aiden sucked in a huge breath as his lungs finally stopped seizing. Sitting up, he looked for Thomas, who stood, hands in his pockets as Asa and Avi trussed Jeffries up by his hands, one of which was missing three fingers and a large chunk of palm.
Once he was secured, Thomas strolled forward, stopping inches from the man, giving him a chilling smile. “Now, shall we get started?”
Goddamn, that man was sexy.
“I told you we weren’t that different,” Jeffries said, tone smug even as he heaved pained breaths.
“This dude looks like shit,” Avi said, disappointed. “Is he even going to survive torture?”
Jeffries made a disgusting sound at the back of his throat. “You brought your whole family to torture me. Tell me again how we’re nothing alike.”
Thomas shook his head. “No. I’m not wasting my breath on arguments I’ll never win. So, how about we turn our attention to the girl you have buried out in the woods somewhere. Tell me where she is, and if she’s safe, I won’t let my sons skin you alive.”
“Ah, man,” Avi said, sounding like a kicked puppy.
“Suck it up, babe,” Felix murmured, patting him on the head. “There’s plenty of time to skin someone later.”
Jeffries looked at them all like they were the crazy ones. Thomas supposed they were. He glanced around the room at his children, both patiently and impatiently waiting to find out if they got to torture a man before they killed him. Perhaps Thomas should have been horrified. Disgusted, even. But he wasn’t. He was proud of his children, his family. They were everything he’d hoped they’d be and more. And looking at someone like Jeffries just drove home for Thomas the life that might have awaited them had he never found them.
The thought left a pit in his stomach. He couldn’t bear the idea of losing a single one of them. He looked at Aiden, still rubbing the bruise on his chest. Jeffries could have shot him in the head. He could have killed him. If he had, this would have gone much differently for Jeffries. It would have been Thomas holding the scalpel.
But Aiden was fine. He was right there. Healthy. Perfect. His. He turned his attention back to Jeffries, who glared at him.
“Do I need to ask again?” Thomas pressed, boredom seeping into his tone.
