Page 5

Chapter Four

L achlan “Mo” Granger opened his eyes. Nothing hurt. He knew who he was. Had no idea where he was, though. Had expected to die, so depending on where he currently was, he was relieved...or not. He didn’t seem to be tied down at least.

He realized he was in a bedroom of sorts. A bed, definitely. He focused on the picture on the wall, and counted five, six, seven kids. What the hell? Maybe...

A quiet snore, more of a rumble, came from the side and he jumped. Mo took in the enormous man stretched out in the chair. He was an absolute bear of a man, huge. Very dark brown hair, slightly wavy, which matched the dark shadowed stubble surrounding his chin and his neck. If he was guarding him, he wasn’t very—

Guarding? Crap, memory hit Mo really hard. He had to get out of here. He lurched upright and hissed in a breath as what felt like ice picks dug into his head. His feet hit the floor, and he tried to get his balance, hanging on desperately to the hand that grabbed his.

Shit.

At the same instant he realized the bear was awake, his body caught on to him trying to stand. Unfortunately, his legs didn’t get the memo, and they buckled. The door opened just as the large hand became two and he was swept up carefully into strong arms.

“Hey, be careful,” a deep voice rumbled through the ice picks, soothing the stabbing pain behind his eyes as he squeezed them shut, his stomach roiling. He turned his head into the warm body holding him. “Hit the lights, Riley.”

The room dimmed. “Lay him down, Zack.” That must be Riley. Mo tensed, getting ready for the movement, but Zack grunted and didn’t move. Riley sighed.

“Okay, you sit, and I’ll look at him from here.” He felt the big man lower himself and confusion swirled in him as well as nausea. Then he felt a light touch to the back of his head. The relief was instant, and he relaxed.

“Mr. Granger, my name’s Riley Hunter. I’m not sure what you remember of last night, but we were having a family barbeque and heard a car squealing away from the lane outside. When we went to see what had happened, we found you, injured and unconscious on the ground, and assumed the car had dumped you.”

Mo lifted his head a little experimentally, but the small ache was manageable. He thought quickly. “You know me?” Where was his wallet?

“My family has a registered foster home,” Riley continued, “and one of our sons recognized you from school. You didn’t have any ID on you.” So why hadn’t they called the cops?

“We didn’t call the cops because we wanted you to be able to make that decision when you felt better,” Riley continued, almost as if Mo had spoken out loud.

But who did that? Any normal person would call 911. Mo lifted his head some more and finally risked a glance at who held him. The man—no, Zack—was smiling and Mo had a ridiculous urge to smile back. Like he wasn’t sitting on some stranger’s lap. “I—you can put me down, thank you,” he added. Zack looked almost disappointed, but he stood again effortlessly and allowed Mo’s feet to touch the floor. He didn’t let go fully until Mo straightened and seemed balanced.

Mo turned to Riley and wondered what the hell to say. “Thank you, and yes, my name’s Lachlan Granger. I’m clearly in your debt.”

“Lachlan,” Zack said, but it wasn’t a question, almost as if he was trying out the name.

“Mo,” Mo hurried to correct him. “Lachlan was my dad.” He winced. Zack’s smile fell immediately.

“Where does it hurt? Your head?” Zack reached for his arm and his huge hand circled Mo’s wrist. “Riley?” Zack pressed without waiting for an answer.

“I’m fine,” Mo interrupted, and he was. He didn’t know how, and his memory was still fuzzy. But he had to say something. “So, it’s Sunday?” He hazarded a guess.

Zack nodded. “What happened?”

“I don’t know,” Mo hedged. “I must have been mugged or something. I’m afraid everything’s a little fuzzy?” Could they hear the BS?

Zack’s face softened, and he glanced over at Riley. Riley stepped away from him. “Is there someone you’d like us to call?”

“No, I suppose I need to get back. Contact the cops. See if someone’s found my wallet.”

“I’ll take you,” Zack said immediately. He nodded to the door. “There’s a door opposite that’s a main bathroom.”

“I also put a pile of clothes in there you can choose from,” Riley added, and Mo glanced down and nearly groaned. All he was wearing was a pair of boxer shorts, and they weren’t even his. Heat swept up his face.

“No one’s outside,” Riley assured him. “We were just going to have breakfast. If you don’t mind our crazy brood, would you like to join us?” Riley took a step to the door, and while Mo knew he needed to get the hell out of there and work out what the fuck had happened, but meeting what seemed to be a local family might be something too good to pass up. He glanced down at his arm and flexed his fingers. He must be going nuts because he would swear he remembered the bone cracking last night, although that was after they’d hit his head a few times, so that might not be reliable.

“Thanks,” he mumbled and headed for the door. Riley opened it and nodded to the door opposite. Mo headed for the bathroom and closed the door.

He closed his eyes as soon as he was inside. Okay, so not all families were the same. There could be a very good reason they hadn’t called 911 as soon as he’d been supposedly dumped on their doorstep. They could also easily be involved. Khloe’s murderers were clever bastards, he knew that. Maybe he should leave? Sneak out? He didn’t know these people and in the last few years, he’d found out personally how little he should trust anyone.

And what was with that big guy holding him? That was downright weird. Mo opened his eyes and sighed. Yes, it was strange, but for a few seconds it had been kinda nice. The guy had known the lights would hurt his eyes, and he’d smelled incredibly good. It had been an awful long time since anyone had touched him. He took in the bathroom and nodded to himself. He peed and washed his hands, warily glancing at his face, then doing a double-take. He stared at his familiar image. The pale skin, a little scruff because he needed a shave, his brown hair that needed a cut. His brown eyes. Even the few freckles on his nose.

And not a single bruise. Not the split lip he definitely remembered. Not the blood that had made him gag and choke on. He was healed. He took a few steady breaths and tried not to panic. He hadn’t been dropped here last night. They were lying. He’d been here for days. He must have been. He reached for the clothes folded on a chair and quickly dressed. He had to get out of here.

He whirled around and opened the door, and came to a shocked standstill, and stared at the teenager he immediately recognized because he was one of the students he assisted with English. Next to him, clutching his hand and sucking her thumb, was a little girl. “Hi Mr. Granger,” Tyler smiled, “Zack thought you might need to see a familiar face.”

The little girl took her thumb out with a pop. “And we can’t start pancakes ‘til you do.” She leaned forward. “And there’s chocolate chip and blueberries an—” She looked at Tyler.

“Banana,” he supplied.

“’anana,” she confirmed, let go of Tyler, and held out her hand for his. Mo took it because she smiled and who could resist that? Mo let her lead her down a corridor and through some double doors into a huge kitchen. All conversation stopped immediately, and Mo swallowed nervously as at least twenty people turned to look at him.

“Guys,” Zack remonstrated and stood up, pulling out a chair next to him. The girl let go of him, skipped to Zack and held up her hand for a high five, which Zack immediately did. “Good job, Martha.” Martha carried on and took a seat between a slightly older girl and a teenager he recognized from the same high school.

“Mo,” Zack prodded. “Come and sit. You must be starving.” Conversation started up again. “Eat, and I’ll introduce my crazy family.”

Mo walked to the seat and sat down, smiling politely at everyone. A younger woman turned from the counter and grinned. “Coffee?”

He nodded gratefully. Zack nodded to the cream and sugar in front of him, and she put a mug of coffee down in front of him. “I’m Cassie. Zack and Riley are my brothers.” He smiled hello and introduced himself as Mo.

“Daddy?”

Mo glanced at Zack, who had turned to his other side at the sound and watched as Zack got the little boy some milk and cut up a pancake. Daddy? This was Zack’s son? He gazed in confusion. This was the weirdest shit he’d ever seen. It was like being in some alternate dimension. Because he absolutely knew he’d been here for more than one night for his injuries to heal, which meant somehow, and he had no idea how, it looked like he’d been kidnapped by the freakin’ Brady Bunch.

He took a sip of coffee to try to cover his confusion, then Zack groaned and at least six of the men all looked at the double doors. He followed their gaze to see what they had heard that he obviously hadn’t and gaped at the gorgeous man who strode through the doors as if he owned the place.

“Victor,” Zack nearly growled the name. Victor came to a stop and simply stared at Mo. Mo couldn’t have looked away if his life depended on it. Bad analogy, Mo admitted, because the man fairly oozed danger.

The woman—Cassie—with the coffee rolled her eyes, murmured something about men and pushed a mug into his hands. “It’s just coffee, but you can get extra testosterone at the table.”

Quite a few of them chuckled. Mo didn’t. Zack didn’t, and Victor didn’t seem to either. Mo looked from one to the other, recognizing the apparent dislike and, yeah, challenge almost. They both looked at him, and Mo sighed. He had no idea what was going on, but these two clearly didn’t like each other, and somehow he had managed to get in the middle of that.

Could his life get any more complicated?

Mo watched as Victor accepted a coffee from Cassie with a tight if polite smile, then he got distracted as three different people all passed him huge platters of food, introduced themselves, and carried on talking as if nothing unusual was happening. Mo smiled back and insisted everyone call him Mo. Zack kept trying to tempt him with different things he kept refusing until Martha, who kept sneaking looks at him, put down her fork and sighed. She pushed her plate over. “Are you sad ‘cause all the chocolate chip pancakes are gone?” She beamed. “You can share mine. I don’t mind.”

Mo had to swallow particularly hard, feeling a little foolish if incredibly confused. He shook his head but politely thanked her, then decided to help himself to a blueberry one, then added syrup and a couple of strips of bacon. Zack topped Mo’s coffee up as if it was a normal everyday occurrence.

“What’s everyone got going on today?” An older man—Christopher, he thought his name was—asked everyone.

“I’m meeting Shelly at the mall and staying over at hers tonight,” Cassie said brightly. Mo nearly laughed when he saw about six pairs of male eyes all stare at her disapprovingly. Christopher’s eyes narrowed. “I’m going to need you to call me in view of—” he stopped. He didn’t look at Mo, but Mo knew he’d second guessed what he was about to say because Mo was there.

“We’re staying in, Dad,” Cassie said and took her own empty plate to the sink. “Boys, you’re on cleanup.” Alex, Tyler, a young man he thought was called Mac who looked to be in his late teens, plus a younger one that looked about ten, all groaned, but stood obligingly and headed to the sinks. Shocked, Mo kept quiet and thanked Tyler when he took his empty plate away.

“Who’s got homework to finish before school tomorrow?”

Tomorrow? So it was Sunday? This was getting weirder and weirder. Christopher asked again. There was another round of groans, but Tyler met Christopher’s gaze.

“I was going to go ask Luke for some help.” He sounded embarrassed and shot Mo a look. He knew some of Tyler’s background. He’d been located a year ago when his parents had died, and Mo believed his brother was his guardian. Tyler hadn’t had much of any schooling, and he’d been home-schooled for a year before coming to the high school. Mo looked around, doubting if one of the guys was his brother, then caught himself and cringed. He knew better. He was better. Just because Tyler’s skin color differed from the other men sitting around the table did in no way mean he wasn’t their brother.

“You okay?”

Mo looked over at Zack and noticed a few people had left. He nodded because he couldn’t give him any other answer. The boys made quick work of the plates. Christopher stood and held out his hand for Zack’s son, swept a giggling Martha up, and another little girl called Beth eagerly joined him.

“How about we go see if Shay wants to play hide and seek for a while? I’m pretty sure we could gather up another few stragglers who didn’t want to get up for breakfast this morning.”

Martha giggled. “Kaiden, an’ Kaia, an’ Dakota, an’ Grayson, an’ Harlowe.”

“When’s Isaac and Zane coming home?” Beth asked.

Mo tried not to gape. Exactly how many people lived here?

Christopher chuckled. “Next Saturday. Stop wishing their vacation over.” He gathered up the kids, then glanced over at the boys. “We can catch a game later if anyone’s interested?” They all enthusiastically agreed, then Christopher swept the little ones out. After another moment, all four boys left as well. Which left Mo with Victor, Zack, and Riley. He wasn’t too thrilled and was waiting for the questions to start.

“You have a lot of kids.” Mo commented, half in awe.

Zack chuckled. “Well, Mattie’s mine. Riley over there has two. My other brother Asher, who’s on vacation with his husband, has three. The other three boys Mac, Alex, and Jamie came to us as foster children, but are now officially adopted along with Mac’s sister, Beth. We just successfully placed a five-year-old girl and a seven-year-old boy with adoptive parents, so we do have some empty beds,” he grinned. “Tyler, who you know, has two sisters and lives in a house with the rest of his family across the way, but we asked him over for breakfast because we thought it would feel less like you were being kidnapped.”

Mo couldn’t have come up with an answer to that if his life depended on it. Maybe the men had kept him and allowed his injuries to heal before they dumped him? But that made no sense either. Riley grinned at Zack’s comment, and Victor, who up to that point had just glowered and remained silent, even cracked a small smile. “I ought to leave and go to the cops, I guess,” Mo said. Not that he was going near the cops, but they would think it odd if he didn’t say something.

“Lachlan Granger?”

Mo jumped a little and looked over at the door. Another man stood there. The man smiled and walked into the room. “I—”

“He prefers Mo,” Victor interrupted, and Mo gazed at Victor in astonishment. Not only because he’d corrected whoever this was, but that he’d spoken at all.

The man smiled a little but carried on and extended his hand. “My name’s Agent Daniel Mayner. I believe you said you were mugged last night.”

Mo froze just as he was extending his hand. Shit, shit, shit. He blinked and mentally shook himself. “Agent? Since when does the FBI get involved with muggings?”

Daniel clasped his hand and replied. “How about we cut the bullshit, and you talk to me about Khloe?”