Dark, scarred leather boots and frayed denim filled her gaze as he paused at the bottom of the bed. Behind him moved two similar pairs of boots and denim.

“She had cameras,” Sawyer stated, his voice lower now.

“Had being the operative word,” Deacon inserted. “What the hell was she up to that she had the entire fucking house wired for video and audio?”

“She was scared,” Sawyer said softly, almost too soft for her to hear, and the compassion in his voice had her throat tightening.

Cord moved then.

Following the sight of his boots as he moved around the bed to the other side of the room, she mouthed silent curses. Dammit. Dammit.

Hunching next to the wall where the decoy DVR had been torn from it, he remained silent. She couldn’t see what he was doing, had no idea what he was seeing.

Sawyer left the room quickly a second later, followed by Deacon. The sight of them departing left her with a very bad feeling.

A very bad feeling. One she didn’t like at all.

Slowly, he turned, the boots shifting by a few inches. He was staring at the bed, she could feel it.

Son of a bitch, he knew she was there.

Silently, just in case he looked, she slid the weapon into a tear in the box spring’s lining and continued to wait. The silence was tense, filled with her fear and his patience.

“You coming out, or do I have to drag your ass out?”

She remained quiet and completely still. Maybe, if she was lucky, he wouldn’t look.

“I saw the other cable,” he said softly. “Sawyer and Deacon have gone after the DVR, Ms. Mayes. What will we find when we watch the video on it?”

Fuck!

“Cord.” Jazz entered the room, his voice filled with anger.

Oh God, he would tell Cord, just as he’d threatened. He’d warned her not to run. He’d warned her he’d tell her brothers, and Jazz didn’t make threats he wasn’t prepared to carry out.

Kenni’s head turned quickly, eyes widening at the sight of Deacon and Sawyer’s boots scuffling just a bit in front of Jazz’s.

Cord rose slowly, remaining silent for long moments. No doubt giving Sawyer and Deacon one of those disappointed looks he gave them whenever they were caught doing something they shouldn’t be doing.

“She’s under the bed,” Cord said then. “I was just inviting her out.”

“Yeah, I bet you were.” Jazz didn’t sound in the least pleasant.

“Jazz, we’re going to have to talk about this,” Cord stated coolly.

“I have nearly two more weeks, Maddox,” he growled. “Get off my ass, will ya?”

Two more weeks? Someone had Jazz on a deadline? That was shocking.

“After this, you think I’m giving you two more weeks?” Cord’s bark of laughter had Kenni wincing. She knew that sound, and it had never boded well.

“Fuck off,” Jazz ordered, the hint of anger that escaped in his voice had her tensing more than Cord’s knowledge of her presence. “You and these brothers of yours.”

This wasn’t going to be good. Three against one? Where were Slade and Zack?

“They didn’t find what they were looking for, either,” Jazz promised him. “But I’d say Zack has.”

Kenni laid her head against the floor and shook it slowly. Having Zack find it was much better; at least then Cord wouldn’t see or hear anything he shouldn’t. But still, dammit, it belonged to her and she bet dollars to doughnuts she wouldn’t be watching it first.

“Ms. Mayes.” The voice was no longer way above her. It was floor-level with her.

Kenni lifted her head slowly, eyes narrowing to meet the dark emerald green of the eldest Maddox brother.

For a second, time fell away. She was ten again, staring back at him from beneath his bed after searching for the birthday present she was certain he must have bought her.

Smiling back at him nervously she forced herself not to speak, certain anything she said would only give her away.

“Would you like to come out and join us?” The gentleness in his voice was frightening. Cord wasn’t a gentle-voiced type of person.

“Now.” It was Jazz’s tone that spurred her to move.

Rolling from beneath the bed she rose to her feet and kept her gaze on the floor. She didn’t dare look up at her brothers. It had been too many years. Too many lost years spent never knowing if they wanted her home or wanted her dead.

Besides, the color of her eyes would be an immediate giveaway. If she didn’t get out of there, she was dead meat, one way or the other. Because if he didn’t kill her—which she doubted he would actually—Cord would no doubt strip her flesh from her bones with his fury.

“I’m ready to leave now.” Clearing her throat, she lifted her gaze to Jazz.

He was furious. The blue of his eyes was brighter than ever, his expression so hard it could be stone as he stared back at her.

“That all you came for?” he asked, nodding to the location where the dummy DVR had sat.

“Yes. If Zack has the main device then I’m ready.” She nodded, tucking her hair behind her ear as it fell free. She’d get the rest of it later.

“Go to the truck, Slade’s waiting for you,” he told her, his gaze moving back to her brothers.

“Without you?” Oh, she just didn’t think so. She wasn’t giving him a chance to talk privately to her brothers for anything.

His brows lowered, his expression warning now. “Pretty much.”

She smiled sweetly. “No.”

For a moment she was certain he would retaliate, that he would tell her brothers who she was and destroy any chance she had of learning who had killed her mother and hunted her for ten years. At the very least she expected him to attempt to force her to leave or to call in Slade and Zack to carry her out.

Instead his gaze narrowed, those heavy lashes shielding whatever emotion might linger in his eyes.

“Sure this is how you want to handle this?” he murmured softly.

“What’s there to handle?” She shrugged as though nothing were riding on the answer. “I simply prefer to know what’s going on rather than sitting in your truck wondering what’s being said.”

If he was going to tell them who she was, then she would be there to at least glimpse any guilt that might flash in their eyes.

“We’re going to talk later.” The slightest quirk at the side of his lips paired with a flash of aroused anticipation sent a rush of warmth speeding through her body.

Damn him, he just had to go and get all sexy and remind her of what it had felt like to be possessed by him. She wished she’d thought of it first; maybe she could have rendered him speechless for a moment instead of the other way around.

“You can talk all you like, that doesn’t mean I’m going to listen,” she shot back, flipping her hand toward him as her chin lifted just enough to shoot him a killing look.

Cord shifted at her periphery, and it was all she could do not to turn and watch him.

She wanted to see his face, wanted to look in his eyes long enough to see if he was her brother or her would-be-assassin.

“Cord,” Sawyer murmured, demanding his attention, the dark somberness of his tone nearly pulling her gaze to him.

She had to get out of there before she ended up giving in to the need her heart ached for rather than the caution her head demanded.

“Hurry and discuss whatever the hell it is you need to discuss with them. I’ll wait in the kitchen, how’s that?” She pushed past him, aware of his gaze on her until she turned into the kitchen doorway and slid to the side where she couldn’t be seen.

God, her hands were shaking.

Staring at them, she tried to tell herself no one else had noticed it. She’d kept her hands pushed into her jeans, her fingers out of sight, just as she’d been very careful not to let them see her eyes.

She’d always been terrible at keeping anything from her brothers. They could tell when she was hiding something the moment they saw her. She’d never figured out how they managed that one, and they hadn’t revealed their secret, either.