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Reagan stepped from the room and paused to draw in a couple of deep breaths before following the nurse down the hall.

Chapter Five

Jackson Moore was rarely surprised by people. His life had thrown him enough curveballs for him to learn to be cautious of everything, suspicious of everyone and prepared for anything.

Reagan Barlowe surprised him.

When she stepped from English’s room, she immediately captured Jackson’s attention. He’d not gotten a close look at her while he was at her house. He’d been too preoccupied with fighting off the men who’d come to abduct her. From where he stood now, he was able to study her without being noticed.

She closed her eyes to breathe deeply, and he could almost feel the tension tightening her muscles. She was unnerved by being at the hospital. He just didn’t think it was for the same reasons the rest of them had.

When her eyes popped open, the irises matched her dark, arching brows and long sable hair. Her face had sharp angles which were oddly attractive — high cheekbones, square jaw and sloping nose. Her top lip curved like a bow over her full bottom one, giving her a sexy pout.

When she turned to follow the nurse down the hall, he appreciated her lithe form, her slender curves underneath the clothes, the shapely legs which moved with long strides, the graceful sway of her hips, and the determined swing of her arms. She was slim enough to make him wonder if she was an athlete — a runner, perhaps, or one of those pretentious women who enjoyed twisting their bodies like pretzels during their weekly yoga class. Maybe a dancer with years of training to hone her elegant movements.

She wasn’t even close to being his type. He preferred his women with generous curves and an approachable, down-home demeanor. This woman was too haughty and rigid for his taste, but Jackson was unable to look away.

One thing he had to admit was Reagan Barlowe was a smart one. Back at her house, once she saw an opening, she didn’t hesitate to make tracks away from danger. She didn’t cower and wait to see what would happen, nor did she wait for the police to arrive to sort out the mess. He would have expected any of those scenarios to be her plan once she left the scene.

But no, Reagan Barlowe showed up at Trinity Medical. She didn’t bother to call to let any of them know she was coming. She just appeared. The life of his mentor was in her hands, and damn, if he could get a handle on what she would do with the responsibility.

“What’s your read on her?”

Luke occupied one of the uncomfortable seats in the waiting area, his laptop propped open in his lap. He eyed Jackson as he stood at the door, looking out through the rectangular window into the hallway.

Jackson didn’t ask how his brother knew he was watching Reagan. It was how they worked, the four of them. He and his brothers could sense what was going on with each other even when they weren’t together. The connection between them was eerie, especially since they weren’t blood relations, but they’d learned to accept it and use it to their advantage.

“She hates him.”

Luke nodded. “She doesn’t bother to hide it. Can’t say I blame Gish for not wanting her around when she feels like that.”

Reagan disappeared from his view, so Jackson faced his brother. “I have a feeling there’s more to it. Gish would want us to protect her even if she hates him. One of us needs to shadow her at all times until we know more about what happened. You hear from Ben?”

Luke nodded. “He’s on his way back. He’s anxious to see Gish.”

“Did he get us some intel?”

“The two guys were low-level muscle for hire. They didn’t know who hired them. Ben sent me the arrest reports, and I ran background checks on the guys. There was nothing to give us a lead. Ben fed the cops a line that the guys were known to work for a high-profile criminal on the FBI’s radar. He told them Reagan was a potential witness, and the FBI has put her in Witness Protection. He said it worked to keep them from getting into our business or trying to find her. Ben made sure her house was clear and secure. The cops said they would increase patrols and notify him if they come across anything suspicious. He did say some lady came by while he was there. She had proof she was Reagan’s business manager, so the cops let her get Reagan’s purse and cell phone. Ben would have followed her, but he thought it was better if he stayed to get intel on the guys.”

“So we still have nothing,” Jackson mused, his mouth twisting into a frown.

“I think it’s because we’re looking in the wrong place.”

Jackson’s thoughts had been running along the same lines. “What are you thinking?”

“English has never told us about Reagan. The only reason Becky knew was because she stumbled over an old picture of her in English’s things and asked him about it. He swore Becky to secrecy. If he went to all the trouble to make sure no one connected him to Reagan, why would he say her name right before he slipped into a coma?”

Jackson recalled the image from the bar’s security footage. The camera equipment captured English’s beating and the conversation between him and the instigator. They were able to watch English’s last conscious moments. The video was burned into Jackson’s brain, especially when English’s last word was not the name of any of his boys but of the daughter he had nothing to do with.

If they had not installed state-of-the-art security equipment around the bar, they would never have known about Reagan. English had called them fools to go through the trouble for the dive bar, but with their work as Legends, they believed the security measures necessary for all of their businesses. They never imagined the security system would be their only link to finding the truth about English and his attack.

“English suspected whoever came for him would come for her too.” Jackson spoke absently, almost forgetting he wasn’t alone.

“Right,” Luke confirmed. “He believed Reagan’s in danger, and he knew we’d protect her. The thing is…if the assailant knew about Reagan and probably her mother, he has to be someone from Gish’s past. Like the long-time-ago, pre-us past.”

Jackson nodded. “From his CIA days.”

“Has to be. We need to find someone from then who can give us some leads on who this assailant might be.”