Page 7 of Brick (Chosen Few #5)

B rick tossed his duffel into the back of the rental SUV and pressed his phone to his ear. The ringing drilled against his sensitive eardrum. He’d slept a good three hours on the plane, and that was all he’d needed with adrenaline pulling overtime.

Ghost answered with a sleepy grunt.

“How’d I know it was you?” Ghost grumbled.

“’Cause you’ve got a location for Natalie and the kid and you’re dying to tell me,” he answered wryly.

Blankets rustled in the background. “You’re lucky I can’t let go of something once I start.

Took me until a few hours ago to get a final location on her.

I came up empty-handed when I sought out the kid.

All footage I found of her showed she was alone.

But let’s hope she’s got him tucked away safely with a relative. ”

Tension clenched his shoulder blades. He had to get his head right. “Tell me where she is.” Before I lose my mind.

“She’s staying at a motel on I-75.” He rattled off the name. “Second floor, room209. Just texted you the address.”

“Is she still there now?”

“No clue. Last movement I had was her checking in late last night.” Ghost cleared his throat. “She could be... different, man.”

Brick bristled. “Different how?”

“I dunno. People get involved in fucked-up shit. For all you know she’s on drugs. I mean, the allegations don’t say anything about that, but you really don’t know what you’re walking into.”

He gripped the keys tightly. Rarely did he admit Ghost was right, but hell, Natalie had given him a fake name, had possibly had his kid, and had never so much as tried to send him an FYI. Now she was wanted on potential felony charges, on the run, and the child was nowhere to be found.

To say the situation didn’t look good was an understatement. “Can you do me one last favor?”

“Why not? I’ve done this much already.” Ghost’s bland tone didn’t penetrate the hazy feeling of dread surrounding Brick.

“Find out what I’d have to do to get custody.”

If Brick were in front of Ghost right now, he’d probably see his friend’s head explode. “Jesus. Well, for starters you’d have to prove the kid’s yours.”

“Figure out how I’d go about that. If she’s in as much trouble as it seems, the kid’s better off with me than getting lost in the system.” Fierce protectiveness roared through him. Whether the kid was his or not, he’d make sure the best person possible cared for the child.

“Talk to Natalie. See what the deal is with the boy before we jump to conclusions,” Ghost said, with a measure of reason that was uncharacteristic.

“I’ll let you know how I make out.” He disconnected, then entered into the GPS the address Ghost had texted him.

In seconds he was on the interstate. He’d grabbed a bite to eat on the plane after his nap, so he wouldn’t waste time stopping. Urgency made his shirt collar feel too damn tight. Natalie could have left the motel already.

He accelerated and weaved through the morning traffic, willing time to be on his side. Twenty minutes later, he found himself in a neighborhood that was borderline shit. A breakfast joint advertising bacon and eggs shared the parking lot of the motel.

He parked close to the set of stairs that led to the second level, where her unit was.

Turning off the vehicle, he ran over what he’d say.

Fancy seeing you here wouldn’t quite cut it.

He’d tracked her down, flown nearly across the country, and was prepared to take in the child they possibly shared.

All within a matter of hours of finding out her real name.

The situation was beyond fucked. Dysfunctional with a capital D and—

Movement at the corner of his eye made him snap his gaze toward the stairs.

Blond hair bounced around slim shoulders.

She wore a loose black T-shirt and cut-off denim shorts that revealed her sleek, tanned legs.

Large dark sunglasses covered her eyes, and she ducked her chin as she moved across the parking lot—right past his fucking vehicle.

Natalie.

He tossed off his seatbelt and bolted from the vehicle as she approached a small sedan. He’d found her, and he wasn’t letting her leave without answers.

***

The bright morning sun made Natalie’s headache that much more hellish. She kept her gaze down as she moved toward the car she’d bought under a fake name last week.

She’d have to ditch it before she went crawling back to Keetan. He’d be furious if he found out she’d hid the money to pay for it over the last two years.

Pressure built in her chest. She’d slept almost five hours before waking with a jolt. She’d missed a text from Ellie, so now they were meeting for breakfast. Her sister was already trying to talk her out of going back to Keetan, but she had no other choice.

Bray had already suffered enough trauma. Had already been forced to cry for her and—

Quickening footsteps sounded behind her. Her muscles seized, but she didn’t turn around. No, it couldn’t be Keetan. He’d already beat the shit out of her. Already took Bray. He wouldn’t come back...

Her pace picked up. She reached her car and yanked open the door. Tossing her purse in, she sank into the driver’s seat. Large fingers grabbed the door, stopping it from shutting.

Natalie shrieked. Panic electrified her senses. “Help!” Fear, sharp and immobilizing, kept her from looking at her attacker’s face.

He pulled open the door the rest of the way and ripped the car keys from her fingers. “Natalie.” The cool, brusque tone made her freeze.

The terror locking her muscles loosened a fraction as her brain worked to identify the voice. Meanwhile, her eyes traveled up sinewy tattooed arms to a stern masculine face.

Disbelief stole her breath. A gasp lodged in her throat. No, it couldn’t be him after all these years. She’d thought of him every day. Every time she looked at Bray.

She blinked, but the man didn’t disappear or morph into someone else.

His large brown eyes stared at her with contempt and maybe a hint of concern.

Dark stubble covered his jaw, and his hair was a tad longer than the crew cut she’d last seen him with.

His biceps bulged as he held open the door, standing above her.

She swallowed as her tongue danced over his name. She wanted to say it. Wanted to believe more than anything that she wasn’t hallucinating, but she didn’t dare.

“Do you even remember me?” he snapped.

Tears rushed to her eyes, making her grateful for the dark sunglasses. She nodded. “B-Brick Slater,” she murmured.

Speaking her son’s middle name, the name of his father, ripped at her heart. There was no way she could hide her shock because the tears now flowed down her cheeks.

He let go of the door to drag his hand through his hair. A million questions buzzed through her mind. He was here in Detroit. Why? Could it be cosmic chance? A trick of fate?

No, life was really just that cruel.

“You left,” he choked out.

She swiped her knuckles under her glasses and inhaled a steadying breath. “I’m sorry for that. I am, really.” Sorry for a lot of things. More than you’ll ever know.

He scoffed. “Funny I didn’t learn your real name until I saw your face plastered online.”

She winced, taking his words like bullets to the chest.

“Why?” he breathed.

Slowly, she pulled off her sunglasses and kept her gaze down. “I lied about my name because I was hiding. Because I didn’t know you.”

“Hiding from your ex?” he pressed.

She nodded. There was nothing more to hide. Nothing this man could do to hurt or ruin her. All that mattered was Bray. The child they shared. The child he—

“Where’s my son, Natalie?”

Her face fell. Tremors took hold of her body.

“He is mine, isn’t he?”

She couldn’t take it anymore. A deep cavern of pain and regret channeled its way through her. She covered her mouth with her hand and did the only thing she could: nod.

Nearly every day she’d recited what she’d say to him if he ever found out about Bray. She’d developed an arsenal of apologies, pleas, explanations. Now she couldn’t pull a single one from the deadness inside her.

“Yes. Bray is your son.” Despair crushed her shoulders, but the shame was heavier. She couldn’t look at him. Needed to deny, even for a second, the pain she’d caused this innocent man.

He hated her. If he was anything like Keetan, he’d probably beat her to a pulp or strangle her.

A gentle hand landed on her shoulder. She flinched, anticipating a strike. But his fingers moved softly over her skin. “Natalie, please look at me.”

His words were like soothing cream on a burn. She lowered her hand to her lap and swung her gaze to Brick. He knelt on the ground next to her car. One hand was on her seat, an inch from her leg, and the hand on her shoulder slid down to her forearm.

“I want to know everything.” Earnestness filled his eyes. He drifted his knuckle along the bruise on her cheekbone. “Especially about this. Can we talk?”

She sniffed and nodded. He gently squeezed her wrist. “Do you want to go in your room or talk here?”

She owed him a conversation. More than that. But she also needed to get back to Bray. “I can’t talk long, but I want to explain everything. We can go to my room. I’m supposed to meet my sister. I need to tell her I’ll be late.”

“Do whatever.”

She took out her phone with shaking fingers and shot off a text to Ellie, just as she’d done that night in Fargo. I’m okay, but I’m going to be late. Can’t talk right now. I’ll call you asap.

She grabbed her purse. He stood and stepped back to allow her to slide out of the car. He shut the door and waved for her to precede him to the stairs. Keeping her head down, she crossed the parking lot and ascended the steps.

Her hands shook as she pulled out her key card and ran it over the lock. She shoved open the door and placed her purse on a table.

Brick closed the door behind him and crossed his arms over his chest. “How about you start with who beat you up.”