Ball & Chain(93)

Kelly knelt beside him, a hand on his cheek. “Well, that’s just fucking great, Ty!”

Zane held Ty tighter. His entire body was trembling. It was like trying to hold on to a bolt of pure energy.

“What about the kids?” Emma shouted over the sound of the storm and the crashing waves below.

“Those kids could be anywhere. How the hell are we going to find them before someone else does?” Zane snarled. He pointed at Fraser. “We all know there are more people on the island working with that asshole.”

“Oh God,” Ty whispered. He was apparently just realizing that he’d knocked unconscious the only man on the island who might know where the kids were hidden.

Amelia might not have been Zane’s blood, but he still considered her his niece. She was somewhere in danger, being hunted by ruthless people who’d already killed to get to her, and they were all helpless to find her.

“Ty,” Zane grunted. “We have to go find Amelia. Doc and Emma will take care of Nick. Come on.”

Ty met his eyes, nodding dazedly. He turned his attention back to Kelly. “Where would Nick stash them?”

“He said he didn’t know,” Kelly snapped. “Maybe if he was conscious he could lead us there!”

“If he was going on instinct, where would he have gone?”

“I . . . I don’t know,” Kelly stammered. “There’s so many places inside those walls he’d . . . it has to be the basement. He always took his sisters to the basement when his dad was drunk. He’d have gone down until he couldn’t go anymore, then he would have hid them. Anything underground. Look underground.”

Ty gave a curt nod. “Okay. It’s a start.” He looked down at Nick one last time, hesitating. “Tell him I’m sorry when he wakes.”

Kelly glanced up, glaring briefly. “Tell him yourself.”

Zane pulled Ty away before he could respond. They turned to hurry back to the mansion, but Kelly called after them.

“He always booby-trapped the stairs! Be careful! Think like Nick!”

Ty groaned. “Think like Nick. I’m going to fucking die in Scotland.”





When they approached the front door of the mansion, the feeling of foreboding once again crept into Zane and settled in his stomach. This time, though, he was pretty sure he had a good reason for it.

They slowed as they came to the door, left ajar to reveal the gaping black hole of the interior. Both of them took out the weapons they’d stolen from the Snake Eaters, checking that they were loaded, making sure the safeties were off. It was something they’d done a hundred times before, maybe a thousand times: readying themselves to head into danger, taking that last moment to prepare. As partners. Sometimes side by side, sometimes with only a voice on an earpiece to let Zane know Ty was with him.

Zane glanced at Ty, who was shoving the clip back into his gun. They would never be partners again. The realization hit Zane hard. Ty met his eyes.

“I love you,” Zane said quietly.

Ty stared at him for a few breaths. “Should I ask you to marry me now?”

Zane couldn’t stop himself from grinning, but he shook his head. “Ask me after we live through this.”

Ty stepped closer and placed a gentle hand on the back of Zane’s neck as he kissed him. “I love you too,” he whispered.

“You find Amelia,” Zane said, his voice hoarse when Ty moved away. “I’ll go for Stanton, make sure he’s safe. He’s probably the next target.”

Ty nodded, and they headed into the house.

In a few steps, Ty was gone, vanished into the darkness. It was a not-so-gentle reminder of what his lover was capable of, but it comforted Zane in ways he didn’t want to examine too closely.

He made his way to the dining room, where he could see the flickering light of the fireplace, candles, and hurricane lamps. He lowered his gun when he stepped into the room.

Earl was sitting in a dining chair facing the doorway, a rifle aimed at Zane. He lowered it and nodded to him, setting the weapon across his legs again.

Zane gave the room a quick glance.

Mara sat with her arm around Susan Stanton, who was crying quietly. Mara’s cheek had been roughly bandaged. Several others appeared to have been wounded by the falling glass. They needed to get Kelly in here to tend to them.

Stanton sat with his son, Theo, their heads bowed over a table as they spoke quietly. They were examining a map or blueprint, making marks on it. A dozen other guests were huddled around dining tables, some with blankets or coats wrapped over their shoulders, others conversing quietly or simply staring at Zane.

The Snake Eaters were gone.

“Where’s English and his boys?” Zane asked Earl.