Unbreakable s8-2 Read online

  It was probably his one and only chance to escape, once he knocked her out and beat the shit out of Jem.

  He’d been working on the cuffs for two days. Getting Avery close enough to get a paper clip off the file to fall to the floor had been easier than he’d thought. A gift she hadn’t known she’d given him.

  And even though he could’ve gotten out of the cuffs half an hour ago instead of admitting shit better off kept to himself, he hadn’t. Now he moved fast, his limbs protesting after being held in one position for too long. Didn’t matter, because he wasn’t losing the upper hand.

  She tried to run from him, but he had her around the waist, then pinned to the steel table close to the double-paned window, aware that the cameras—and Jem—would see all of this. He didn’t have much time before the man came in.

  His body covered hers, one of her legs curling around his waist. He had to give her credit for trying to control a situation she’d very much lost control of. His hand splayed over her throat even as he pinned her tightly to him.

  “You need to forget this. Forget me,” he growled, hating the desperation in his voice.

  “I’ll chase you to the ends of the earth,” she told him. Pushed up so her face was so close to his and he leaned in.

  Would be so easy to kiss her. Sink into her. Let her promise she could fix everything when he knew damned well no one could.

  Not even him.

  “Don’t do this,” he told her as she rubbed against him.

  “Why not? You used me as your scratching post once. Why can’t I do the same?”

  Because you’re not like me, he wanted to tell her, but he couldn’t. Dammit, she was dangerously close to breaking down the hard-won walls he’d built, brick by brick, over the past months.

  He didn’t move away though. “Goddammit, Avery—you can’t—”

  Jem burst in then at the same time Gunner spun with Avery, holding her back to his chest and her throat with his palm still.

  “You won’t hurt her,” Jem said.

  “You’re going to count on that?”

  “Yeah, I am.” Jem walked out, slamming and locking the door behind him, leaving him with a hostage who was the worst hostage ever, because she kept rubbing against him.

  Frustrated, he let go of her, pushed away carefully, extricating himself from any and all contact with her body. “What do you want from me? An explanation? A promise to stay with S8 forever?”

  “Sure, that’s a start.” He noted that her hands shook, despite how confident she sounded. He hated himself for being the one to do that to her.

  Gunner didn’t know what to do at all. Maybe if he was honest with her, really, truly honest, she’d forget him. Let him go. Realize that he was never right for S8, or for her, anyway.

  He sat in the chair he’d been tied to. Avery watched him warily, hoisted herself up on the table so she faced him.

  “Everything in that folder? It’s true. And there are maybe a hundred more jobs out there that I’ve done too. I did them for the man I was given to by Powell. It was a way to get the guy you know as DL—Drew Landon—off his back, because he’d screwed the man in a business dealing. Giving him me seemed the best way to appease him.”

  “Your father . . . traded you? That’s sick.”

  He shrugged. “In those circles, shit like that’s more common than you think. Everyone just wants to stay alive, stay in the game. Most don’t care what that takes.”

  “Powell thought you were dead. So did Landon, until . . .”

  “Until cameras caught me on Powell’s island,” he explained. “Powell and Landon never really believed I was dead. For added security, they had their tapes sent to each other if the facial-recognition software alerted them to my presence. No amount of hair dye’s going to avoid that kind of detection.”

  “You knew going back to that island would trigger this.” She hopped off the table and moved closer. Knelt, her hands on his knees.

  “I didn’t have a choice. Not after what Grace had gone through. I couldn’t let her lose Dare. I know what that’s like.”

  He trailed off, and Avery was up, in his lap. Straddling him. Kissing him. This time, it was the best kind of torture and he knew he was true and well done for.

  “I know you’re trying to scare me away. It’s not going to work. It’s never going to work,” she told him in between kisses.

  He tried to hold out, to not touch her. To push her away. But in the end, he did none of those things.

  He wrapped his arms around her and held her close.

  Jem cleared his throat from the doorway and pointed at the two-way glass. “Dude, there’s no way for me not to see what’s about to happen.”

  “You could close your eyes,” Gunner growled over her shoulder. Avery laughed softly, pulled back a little.

  Gunner stared between Avery and Jem and wondered what the hell he’d done. He had to tell them the truth. Keep them safe.

  “Damn you both—I was taking care of shit.”

  “Yeah, that was going really well,” Jem told him. “We don’t need you babysitting us.”

  “There are women involved,” Gunner told him.

  “I can certainly take care of myself,” Avery echoed, then softened. “I appreciate the sentiment, Gunner, but Landon didn’t keep his promise to you. Not this time, and not with Josie.”

  Instead of answering, Gunner got up and threw the chair across the room. It slammed into the wall and Jem said, “Dude, this place is rented. I want my security deposit back.”

  “Rented? From what—Interrogations R Us?” Gunner asked.

  “Something like that. You know, that’s not a bad side business.” Jem rubbed his chin and Avery shook her head.

  “We’ll get right on that, Jem.”

  “Sarcasm. There’s a new one,” Jem muttered. “We don’t have to pay for another full day if we vacate in the next couple of hours. Think you can pull it together before that, Gunner?”

  “I’m still going to kill you.”

  “You had your chance. Do you know I broke you in less than two days? Christ, I would’ve lasted weeks,” Jem said.

  “Because your pain sensors are all fucked up,” Gunner pointed out.

  “Just jealous. But I do I have a question, G,” Jem said.

  “You did not just call me G.”

  “Did. Anyway . . .” Jem leaned forward on his elbows on the table. “Why not just kill the motherfucker and be done with it?”

  “Landon’s got a lot of enemies, but a hell of a lot more associates who make a hell of a lot of money with him. Taking him down would put an entirely new bounty on my head.”

  “How about giving him over to the CIA?”

  “Guy’s bulletproof. Other people, like me, do the dirty work. If I kill him, I might as well kill myself.”

  Avery grabbed his shoulder. “Bullshit. Don’t say that.”

  “He’s going to start looking for me. I have to keep working for him.”

  “Until we find a way to kill you,” Jem finished.

  “That won’t work a second time.”

  “It has to. So either you die or Landon does. Personally, I’d take Landon out, but hey, what do I know?”

  Gunner fisted his hands on the table. “He’ll turn me in to the CIA if I try anything. He’s got more on me than anything you’ve got in that folder.”

  Jem stood. “We’ve got shit to figure out.”

  Gunner nodded. “Let me make contact with Landon first.”

  Jem pulled Gunner’s phone from his pocket. “You already have. I bought you a week and then he expects you in Bali.”

  “I’ve got a place,” Gunner told them. “Can’t risk flying, though, unless you’ve got a private plane I don’t know about.”

  “I’ve still got several favors to call in, but I’d rather use them when we’re closer to desperate,” Jem said. “You two drive. I’ll fly. Let me see if anyone’s got my trail.”

  “I don’t want you going alone.”
/>   “With my luck, I won’t be.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Avery held him the entire way up the narrow stairs to the small apartment above the interrogation room like she was afraid he would disappear.

  He wanted to tell her that she’d brought this shit and everything that came along with it on herself, lock, stock and barrel, and they would need all the luck they could get. Instead, he let her help him, because he was beyond thinking. He needed to clean up and get her out of here.

  He pushed into the shower she ran for him, let the hot water soak his sore muscles while she packed her things and brought him clothes. His clothes, from his house, he noted, then turned his face back under the spray for a while. Washed James away, as if it could be that easy to wash so much bad down the drain.

  Avery was watching him and he was grateful she didn’t join him. Not yet. It was too soon, everything too raw. When he finally emerged from the shower, he dried himself briskly and dressed. Ate some takeout she’d brought in for him too. Let her dress his split lip and a cut across his eyebrow. She dealt with the cuts around his wrists and ankles too, cleaning and dressing them gently like she was trying to make up for hurting him.

  He didn’t bother to tell her he’d deserved every second of it, and she didn’t even know the worst of it.

  “You still want me? On your team, in your life, after how many times I’ve fucked up?”

  “Yes.”

  Yes. So simple. No reservations.

  She brushed some hair out of his eyes. “You have to stop punishing yourself. You’ve made up for what you’ve done so many times over. You can’t control things that weren’t your fault.”

  “I made choices.”

  “You made the best choices you could at the time. I hate that Landon used us to force your hand.”

  “He knew what would work.” He paused. “You haven’t told the others.”

  “No.”

  “I don’t want Grace to know . . . to feel like she’s responsible. Because she’s not.”

  “Gunner, we all feel responsible.”

  “I didn’t have to go to the island,” he told her. “I chose that. I knew. Didn’t care, because saving her, Dare, Darius . . . it was important to you. And you’d already lost so much.”

  “Then don’t make me lose you. Not when we just started.”

  He didn’t trust his voice, so he nodded. And her arms wound around him. Hugging him. Healing him. Welcoming him home.

  Within the hour, they were in a truck with bulletproofing and tinted windows. Avery pushed him into the passenger’s side and he didn’t argue. He was bruised and sore and he gulped down some ibuprofen.

  “Jem was doing it out of love. You know that, right?” she asked as she tried to leave on a song that sounded like a cat wailing. “Hey, I love that song. It’s Fiona Apple.”

  “It’s depressing.” He found some classic rock, AC/DC, then rubbed his ribs. “Asshole you claim loves me tried to waterboard me,” he sniffed.

  “I’m sure he’ll make it up to you.”

  He leaned his head back and let the easy rhythm of the truck moving fast on the highway lull him into thinking everything was going to be all right.

  “What are you thinking about?” she asked quietly after they were a couple of hours into the trip. She’d gotten them fast food at a rest stop, but that was the only break they’d taken. Couldn’t afford to be out in the open, not at all.

  “Everything.” Because it was easy to let it all overwhelm him. He realized he’d lost count of how many jobs he’d done. There’d been no point in counting them. After he’d left Avery in the hotel, he’d completely immersed himself into James’s old life and hadn’t looked back. He had zero contact with anyone or anything from his old life. He hadn’t kept an e-mail address or a phone number. Nothing to tempt him or make him think or wish he could’ve held on to something.

  After a couple of months of carrying out orders, he’d stopped thinking or dreaming about Avery. In fact, he’d stopped dreaming at all. Dead inside was the only thing that would work.

  None of the new jobs were as bad as the one that had nearly broken him all those years ago. But that didn’t mean one wouldn’t be. If Landon asked, he’d do it, because even though he was dead inside, he remembered the stakes.

  He knew Landon was waiting for him to be dead enough inside so he wouldn’t remember those stakes. And he knew what Landon would ask him to do, eventually.

  Could he?

  He guessed that remained to be seen.

  “I meant what I said, about us both running from things. About starting over. I know it’s hard—” she said tentatively.

  “Do you know what it’s like to live a lie?” he interrupted. “When you ran, it was toward family. You started over, but you were still you. I’ve been living a lie since I was twelve, in one way or another. Gunner was who Josie wanted me to be.”

  He paused then, and she said, “I know about Josie, Gunner. Billie told me some . . . and then . . . Jem and I met with Mike and Andy.”

  “Fuck me,” he muttered. That’s how she and Jem had tracked him. It made sense now.

  “I hear what you’re saying. So show me who you are.”

  “It’s that simple?”

  “For me, yes.” She paused. “Do you think I don’t know you’re capable of violence? You always were. Dare, Jem, Key . . . they’re far from saints. So am I.”

  “What you did was avenge your mom’s death. I was never able to do that for Josie.”

  “Until now,” she reminded him.

  “You really have no idea who you’re up against.”

  “I do have some idea. He can’t be worse than Powell.”

  He was, in a different way, though. “Landon was a tough taskmaster, but it was better than living with Powell any day of the week.”

  “What about your mom, Gunner? Mike and Andy didn’t know much about her. They said you barely mentioned her.”

  “I still try to keep her life and death covert, the way she would’ve wanted it. She was killed when I was twelve. She was an SAS operative and she and Powell crossed paths a few times. I came out of a very brief affair. But she had no other family, didn’t want me to have no one if she died. A lot of people never knew what Powell was like, even those who were supposed to be close with him.”

  There wasn’t anything she could really say to make it better, but he gave her credit for trying when she said, “You made it out.”

  “I guess I did. Lot of backtracking along the way, though. I don’t know what the hell she’d think of me. Of what I’ve done.” He paused. “But anything good I’ve been able to make out of the bad situations Landon put me in . . . well, that was because of her.”

  Planning the jobs was intense. Each one took anywhere from two to four months of meticulous research. Figuring out the trafficker’s next move, predicting his next job. Buying intel without getting him suspicious. Sometimes even infiltrating the inner circle and working a job for them was the only way to get close enough. And sometimes, if it wasn’t safe for the women and children Gunner would be looking to save, he would be forced to let an opportunity pass and wait for a prime one.

  Because if he couldn’t save them from the traffickers outright, he wouldn’t risk killing them in an explosion meant for the real criminal. He was painstaking. Brutal. An avenging angel. It was the only way he could justify the greater good.

  His mother would say that sometimes in order to do good you had to do bad.

  His mother was always so conflicted. Couldn’t have been more right. She’d been teaching him lessons, as if she was desperate for him to understand why she did the work she did.

  He hadn’t understood the full extent until Landon gave him her files. She’d been an SAS-sanctioned assassin, a top spy with a shooter’s eye. One of the best there was, one of the best they’d ever had. Even without knowing what she did, he’d learned how to move quietly and stealthily, like a ghost. It was part technique and part genetics, t
hat ability to move though a crowd and no matter how tall or attractive you were, not to be noticed.

  She’d done it every day of their lives and somehow pulled him into that magic circle of space. Being with her was exciting. Comforting. How she’d balanced that kind of work and motherhood was summed up by what she told him every time she’d tucked him in and left for work.

  “Going to make the world a safer place for you, James,” she’d say to him before she went out on a job, even before he had any idea what she did for a living.

  He’d done his best over the years to honor her sentiment. “I think she’d hate what I was doing.”

  “You’re wrong. I think she’d completely understand. Everything you’ve done was to keep doing good. If you weren’t under Landon’s protection . . .”

  He frowned. “Hear yourself? Suddenly you’re a Landon fan.”

  “I’m a Gunner’s mom fan,” she said.

  “Her name was Yolanda. She was awesome, Avery. She made me know we could do what we do and still have kids. She always protected me. She thought putting me with Powell, and giving me a trust fund he knew nothing about that I could access through a lawyer myself, would make me okay.”

  “Guess we were both raised by strong moms.”

  “Yeah. She traveled everywhere, but every single summer, we’d spend three months at the beach. All different places and she was there twenty-four-seven. I wasn’t in one place long enough for traditional school, but she homeschooled me. And she taught me shit. And she loved me. And that’s what I remember the most. She loved me.”

  “I’m glad you have those memories.”

  “Me too.”

  “What I’m not understanding is your loyalty to Landon.”

  “I didn’t say I understood it.”

  “You believe that he didn’t kill Josie?”

  “Why wouldn’t he admit it? He’s got me by the balls. Wouldn’t telling me he’s taken away someone I loved and trying to kill me keep me in line?”

  “You’d think.” She stared at him. “Gunner, if he didn’t kill Josie, then who did? And if he didn’t try to kill me or Billie . . .”