Total Surrender

Book 4: Sin Brothers

by Rebecca Zanetti

Genres: Romantic Suspense; Suspense

Synopsis

A fight he must win

Piper Oliver knows she can’t trust him. They warned her that the tall, dark, and sexy black-ops soldier Jory Dean would try to win her over with his steel-gray eyes and deadly charm, but she won’t be conned by this man they call a traitor. All she has to do is figure out the science necessary to save his life, and she’s done. Something isn’t adding up, though, and she won’t rest until she uncovers the truth—even if it’s buried in his deep, dangerous kiss.

A passion she can’t resist

Jory will do anything to reunite with and save his brothers—even kidnap the gorgeous woman who’s working to deactivate the deadly chip in their spines. But the forces determined to destroy his family won’t let them go so easily. Keeping Piper alive is more than he bargained for—and so is his burning desire for her. But with every second bringing him closer to certain death, can he afford to lose himself in her hot and willing embrace?

Release date: March 31, 2015

Publisher: Grand Central

Print pages: 385

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Sample

Chapter 1

 

Utah 

Current Day 

IN A COLD and dismal cell, surrounded by concrete blocks, Jory Dean counted out push-ups, his brain shutting down pain receptors in his body. Sweat dripped onto the cement floor, and steam coated the bulletproof glass wall. 

Yet he pressed on, aligning himself for maximum effect, strengthening each muscle in turn. His mind would save him, but he’d need speed and strength first. 

For months, fighting insanity in the small quarters, he’d forced himself to behave like a good prisoner. But when he was sure he was strong enough, he ruthlessly pushed himself, knowing he’d need to be in top condition to get free. 

He turned inward to listen to his heart rate and lung capacity. For the briefest of time, as he’d escaped a two-year coma, his blood had pumped slower than normal. But now, after three months of intense training in the freezing cell, he was back to normal. 

The second his captors gave him an opening, he’d create the opportunity. 

To flee this hell and finish what they’d started. 

His body had taken more time than his brain to repair, and the senses that once had been merely superior now thrummed with additional power. Something was about to happen, and he was ready. 

High heels clicked several hallways away, and he kept punishing his biceps until the sound neared the outside door. The click was off to a slight degree, as if the woman wearing them was limping. 

Interesting. 

He stretched to his feet and grabbed a ripped towel to wipe off his face, knowing full well who stood on the other side. 

Heartbeats had signatures, as did breathing rates and bodily scents. He knew the woman’s scent well. 

Dr. Madison clicked inside the room, wearing her customary white lab coat over skirt and dangerously high heels. At around fifty years old, she appeared much younger. She’d piled her dark hair up on top of her head and had applied perfectly layered makeup that failed to mask a brutal black eye that extended to her temple. 

Jory blinked, studying the pattern of the bruise. It was nonsymmetrical, not spread out enough to be from a fist, and looked a day old. A car crash? 

Where had she been? Companionship, even hers, was better than being left by himself. Except for the techs who dropped off his food and picked up his tray, he’d been alone with his thoughts, and inside his head wasn’t a pretty place to be. 

He hadn’t seen her in nearly three months. Should he give a shit about that? She was the closest thing he’d had to a mother, and even now, as an intellectual exercise, he couldn’t help but wonder. Did he care? If not, what did that make him? He hoped to hell he hadn’t become the monster they’d trained him to be, but if so? Yeah. They’d meet that beast soon enough. 

Life, like computer codes, held symmetry. They’d created him in a test tube to be a heartless soldier concerned with one thing only—the mission. 

It was unfortunate for them that his mission, the one that mattered, would most likely mean their deaths. “What happened to your face and leg?” he asked softly, so unaccustomed to his own voice that his breathing paused for one beat. 

She fingered the bruise and looked up more than a foot to his face, her forehead furrowing. “Your brother blew up our DC facility, and I was caught underground in an airplane hangar.” 

Brother. The one word cut through protective layers of muscle to pierce his heart. He kept his expression stoic and forced his vitals to remain steady. “Which brother?” he asked, lowering his voice to keep it from trembling, even while his mind kicked into gear. He hadn’t felt or heard an explosion, so he must be somewhere far away from DC. Add in the air chill, and he figured somewhere in the Midwest. 

“Nathan.” She pursed her lips in a tight, white line, studying Jory carefully. As usual. “He took my daughter with him.” 

Jory jolted internally and yet remained preternaturally still, his gut lurching. Nate was still alive. Confirmation—finally—that at least one of his brothers had lived through the last two years. Deep down, where humanity still hovered, Jory fought against the hope washing over him. Now wasn’t the time for emotion. 

He eyed Madison. Why was she sharing information? The woman always had a reason, and for now, he’d play along. “Good for Nate.” Jory’s big brother had never gotten over Audrey Madison, so it wasn’t exactly shocking that he’d returned for her. “Was she willing to go with him?” He wouldn’t put it past Nate to toss Audrey over a shoulder while bombs detonated. 

Madison sniffed. “I believe so, but maybe the pregnancy has messed with her intellect.” 

Jory stilled. Only supreme control kept his heart from thumping against his ribcage. He lifted one eyebrow and pierced the doctor with a hard stare. “Audrey is pregnant?” 

“Yes. With Nate’s baby.” Madison reached for a computer tablet from her pocket, avoiding his gaze. She’d started averting her eyes the second he’d learned to infuse power into his stare. “Congratulations, it appears the Gray family can procreate.” She smiled, revealing sharp teeth, having control back into place. 

Warmth burst through Jory, and he allowed himself a rare moment to ban the ever-present chill. Nate was going to be a father? Unbelievable. He’d make a great father… if he lived beyond the coming week. Jory wanted to smile but refused to give the doctor the satisfaction of reading his emotions. 

Her focus dropped to his groin. “I wonder if we could—” 

Jory fought the urge to cover his balls and stepped closer to the partition. “Not a chance in hell.” He spoke low and kept eye contact as he gave her the absolute truth. She’d been the one woman as a constant in his life from the beginning, even tending his hurts after he’d trained as a kid. But not with motherly love. Instead she had stitched him up a time or two while taking copious notes at how fast he healed. 

Still he’d rather not have to snap her neck. Yet. 

She clucked her tongue. “It’s hard to imagine you were the good-natured brother.” 

“Getting plugged in the chest several times and ending up in a coma for two years tends to piss a guy off.” He kept her gaze and stretched his torso, trying not to go crazy in the small cell. 

Dr. Madison licked her lips and eyed his scarred chest. “Your workouts and diet regimen have returned you to excellent shape in such a short time. I did a marvelous job with your genetics.” 

He rubbed his chin. “Yeah. You really did.” Of course, the woman had no clue about his enhanced abilities or how successful she’d been in creating something new. 

God only knew what she’d combined with soldier DNA to create him, and even now, he didn’t want to know the particulars. He was Jory Dean, he had three brothers, and that was enough family history for him. 

Her gaze traveled to the tattoo above his heart. “Freedom.” She shook her head. 

His hand moved on its own volition to rub his inked skin. The week they’d escaped, he and his brothers had created the matching design before finding the perfect artist to tattoo them. Now that he’d been recaptured, the design mocked him. 

He swallowed and forced his body to relax when all he wanted to do was punch through unpunchable glass. When she looked at him like he was steak on a plate, he wanted to puke. So he turned and yanked a ratty T-shirt over his head. “Were Matt and Shane with Nate when he blew up DC?” The more information he could get about all of his brothers, the easier it’d be to plan now that he was strong enough. 

Time was up, and he needed to strike. 

Madison just looked at him. 

With a sigh, he gave up the pretense. “Please tell me if they’re still alive.” Yeah, he could play her game if it earned him information. 

“You know you’ve always been the easiest of your brothers to read,” she said. 

“I know.” That’s what she thought. Madison was tough to play, but he’d figured out years ago how to manipulate her. False vulnerability and full truth worked because she liked to see reactions. So he reacted outwardly while his brain raced internally. For now, he’d allow her to believe she was smarter than he was, but at this point, she wasn’t even close. 

“I wonder if your weakness is from being the youngest, or if you inherited such traits from your maternal egg donor?” Madison tapped her chin. 

“I don’t know.” Jory shrugged, changing tactics to keep her off balance and camouflage how much he needed an answer about his brothers. “Who was my maternal egg donor?” 

She sighed. “Who cares? We paid for eggs from extraordinary genetic pools, and those women never wanted the ensuing children.” 

Jory kept his face blank, not even feeling the words that should cut deep. Who the hell cared about what came before? The Dean brothers shared a paternal donor, and their identical gray eyes served as a genetic marker. They’d given up long ago of finding any information on maternal donors—they didn’t have mothers and never would. “I care little about genetics,” he said. 

“Yet it’s so interesting how similar you boys are but how differently you handle the same situation,” she mused. 

“How would my brothers handle you?” he asked. 

She smiled. “Shane would try to charm me for the answer, while Nathan would harass me like a rottweiler fighting for a bone. Matt? Well, Matt would play mind games and twist me up until I gave the information.” 

“I’m aware of my brothers’ talents.” Jory preferred hard drives to humans, which made Madison’s brain easy to mine. The woman was almost a computer, completely lacking in emotion. Long ago, he’d given up his soul, so begging didn’t mean much to him, even if he had meant it. “Please tell me.” 

She typed something in on her tablet. “As far as I know, Mathew and Shane are alive. They didn’t help Nathan on the ground in DC, but I have no doubt they assisted in planting explosives.” 

Electricity sparked down Jory’s torso, and his shoulders straightened. Alive. His brothers were all alive. Now he had a short time to keep it that way. “Thank you,” he murmured. 

She glanced up, and her eyes slowly focused. “There’s more.” 

Man, she loved to see him beg, didn’t she? “Oh?” Jory had given her all the satisfaction she’d get this morning. Either she’d give him the rest of the details, or she wouldn’t. 

“Yes.” She frowned, irritation sparking through her blue eyes. “Shane went back for that woman he’d used on a mission once, and Matt kidnapped one of our doctors who’d betrayed us. They’ve committed themselves to women.” 

Now Jory did smile. “Bullshit.” Whatever game she played, she could roll the dice by herself. He could see Nate rescuing Audrey since they’d gotten together so long ago, but no way would Shane or Matt drag a woman into the shitstorm of their lives. “Nice try, Madison.” 

She nodded, her forehead smoothing. “I don’t understand, either. Soon we’ll have them back home, and I can figure them out.” 

Oh, hell no. His brothers were never getting caught again, and Jory needed freedom to deactivate the kill chips near their spines implanted almost five years ago. He eyed the outside door. So close and yet so damn far. “Why do you want us here? I just don’t get it.” 

“The commander and the organization are being attacked, and your skills and training are needed.” Her voice remained level, but fire lit her eyes. “From several sides. The U.S. government is looking at our financials, there are competing firms out there getting stronger, and an organized fundamentalist group wants the commander shut down.” 

“Good. Then leave us the hell alone.” He’d love to light the entire organization on fire, and he would. The second he got out of the cage and saved his brothers. 

“That will never happen. Our base inland will be much more appropriate to contain you and yours, and it is a good place to retrain you. You’ll be transferred within a few days.” Madison glanced back down at her tablet. 

His head lifted. If he allowed the transfer to a more secured facility, he’d never get free, so it was time to make a move. “I’m tired of gym shorts and T-shirts, and these tennis shoes are a size too small.” He rested broad hands on his hips and glared around the dismal cell. One cot sat in a corner, and a bare-bones bathroom took residence around a partial wall. “Get me out of here.” 

“Why?” She arched one fine eyebrow. “That kill chip by your C4 vertebra will detonate in one week and you’ll die. Your best chance of survival is staying here.” 

His eyelids slowly rose, so he flattened his hands on the bulletproof glass and leaned in. “The chip you screwed up? Yeah. I’m not expecting a rescue there.” The bastard scientists had implanted kill chips near the Dean brothers’ spines, and if the correct code wasn’t entered in the right computer program in a week, the chips would activate and sever their spines. Unfortunately, the code changed every thirty seconds, so getting a lock on it from a distance had been all but impossible. 

Of course, no damn code worked for Jory. “We both know I’m fucked.” 

“I do wish you’d watch your language. As a child, you were so well mannered.” Dr. Madison typed something into her tablet. “I didn’t make a mistake on the chips. When you got yourself shot, a bullet ricocheted off the chip, and it’s damaged. It’s shocking the device didn’t explode then and there.” She pursed her lips as if pondering what to have for dinner. “Just shocking.” 

“Who shot me?” 

Madison lifted a slim shoulder. “You have the highest IQ ever recorded, young man. Those memories are in that impressive brain, and you need to access them.” 

Jory rubbed his eyes. Having no memory of a devastating event was normal, damn it. He might never remember who’d shot him. 

But he remembered blowing his cover at the scientific facility where he had been gathering information about the commander’s organization. He’d scanned the wrong computer system and had set off alarms, resulting in a flash grenade and drugs pumped into his system. 

Damn rookie move because he’d been in a hurry and so close to finding the program to deactivate the kill chips. He’d deserved to get shot for his carelessness. 

For now, he was a fucking monkey in a cage, and he had to get out of there before his impressive brain melted. So he tried reason. “Madison? I have one week to live. For once, have a heart and let me live out my last days.” It was the closest he’d come to asking the brilliant scientist for anything after she’d started hitting on him when he’d reached puberty. She had a record for playing with cadets, and he’d kept his distance, as had his brothers, he was sure. 

“I didn’t raise you to be a quitter. Don’t worry. I have a plan,” she said. 

As usual, he’d have to work against her. He shoved a hand through his hair, which had begun to curl at his nape. “What’s the plan?” If he was going to figure out a way to save his brothers, he had to get out of there. 

“For one thing, I’d like to schedule you for another MRI. Your brain is functioning… abnormally.” She stared at his forehead as if she could see into his gray matter, her lip curling. “I’m having a PET scan set up for later today, also.” 

Fuck, shit, and damn it all to hell. He couldn’t let her discover his special abilities, nor those of his brothers. They’d succeeded for years in hiding the very skills that had kept them alive. But ever since the coma, something new percolated in his mind. Something he apparently couldn’t hide now. “You’ve been doing scans for months. Nothing is different.” 

“The scans from last week are different.” She tapped a red fingernail against her lips. 

Yeah. His best guess was that new paths had been forged in his brain during the coma, and a weird tingling in his lobe had begun the previous week. Maybe it was his special abilities increasing in power, or maybe it was something new. Either way, he had to mask the truth. 

Two heartbeats echoed from outside the room, so he tilted his head to hear better while trying to appear bored. Dr. Madison had no clue about his heightened senses or his extra abilities, and he needed to keep it that way. 

A soldier entered first, followed by a woman in her mid-twenties, who slid out from behind him. 

Jory’s breath caught in his throat. Exquisite. For once, that word could be applied accurately. She stood to about five foot six in black boots wearing a matching leather jacket. Light mocha-colored skin, curly black hair, and eyes greener than the most private parts of Ireland. 

She took one look at him and stepped back. 

He moved forward and flashed a smile that made her eyes widen. If he had to scare her to make her leave, he’d do it. Anybody seeing him in captivity would be killed by the commander after serving their purpose. So he forced sexual tension to filter through the room. 

How he could do it, he wasn’t sure. Maybe pheromones and bodily heat waves, and the ability came easier now than it had before the coma. It was a hell of an advantage to use sometimes, and he ignored Madison’s quick intake of breath when he employed it. 

“Is she for me?” he asked, forcing his gaze to run over the newcomer’s body and surprising himself when he hardened in response. God. He’d been on a mission and then in a coma for two years before spending time in captivity recuperating. When was the last time he’d gotten laid? Way too long ago. 

He’d always liked women, although he’d never gotten close to one. Not really. They were either part of a mission or worked as doctors in the facility, and those certainly couldn’t be trusted. 

This one was petite with delicate bone structure and clear, intelligent eyes. Whatever her purpose, she sure as hell didn’t belong in the dismal place. Hopefully she’d turn on her heel and get out since he’d leered at her. 

Instead she lifted one eyebrow. Her face flushed. “So that’s him.” 

Well, damn. Another angel with the heart of a demon. A pang landed squarely in Jory’s chest. Beauty should never be evil. “Yeah, that’s me,” he murmured, dropping the sensual attack. “Who are you?” 

She opened her mouth and shut it as Dr. Madison shook her head. “It doesn’t matter who she is,” Madison muttered. Grasping the woman’s arm, Madison led her over to a computer console. “Get to work, and remember the rules.” 

The woman jerked free and stepped away from Madison. She eyed Madison like an opponent in a boxing ring—with wariness and determination. 

Jory frowned, and his instincts started to hum. Was the woman a prisoner, like him? Maybe he could gain them both freedom, with her help. She was outside of the cage, now wasn’t she? He smiled. 

Dr. Madison glanced back toward Jory, her gaze narrowing. “Leave her alone to work, and I won’t have you tranquilized again.” With that, she allowed the soldier to escort her from the room, and the door nicked shut behind her. 

The woman sat at the console and turned toward him. “Piper. My name is Piper.” She eyed the partition. Her voice was smooth and sexy… feminine. She guarded her expression well. “They didn’t give me your name.” 

Yeah. They wouldn’t have thought to give his name. “Jory.” He really liked the way her tight jeans hugged her curves, and he appreciated the intelligence sizzling in those spectacular eyes. She’d have to be smart to help him escape. “Why are you here, Piper?” 

She exhaled slowly and stretched out her fingers. “I’m here to save you, Jory.” 

 

Chapter 2

PIPER KEPT TYPING in code, her fingers flying over the keyboard. She couldn’t spend another day failing at the task, if for no other reason than succeeding would piss off Dr. Madison. The snotty doctor gloated each and every day the solution remained outside of Piper’s reach, her dislike evident in every condescending sniff. 

The rudeness was personal and not from any sense of betrayal or righteous anger. If the doctor had been pissed Piper hacked into the organization’s server a couple of years ago, accidentally earning her a job, then Piper could understand her behavior. But that wasn’t it. 

Not even close. 

And now? Now Piper had been assigned the most important task in the entire organization—saving the prisoner’s life. Why he mattered, she hadn’t been told. 

But everything seemed to be riding on her ability with computers. 

Once a hacker, always a hacker—but now she had the chance to do something good with her skills. Something honorable that would cement her position with the organization because of her abilities and not connections. 

Saving the man in the cell’s life would make her very, very useful. Plus, the mere idea of a kill chip implanted near the man’s spine was sneaky, and the notion of using a computer program to murder offended her. 

So she put her head down and worked hard. Although the myriad of soldiers outside the doorway, armed to the gills, sped up her heart rate and slowed down her typing. Too many guns suddenly surrounded her. 

She bit her lip and tried to ignore the itch between her shoulder blades. She’d worked for hours, her mind spinning. After trying unsuccessfully to engage her in conversation, Jory had gone quiet. 

But he’d been watching her the entire time. His gaze almost felt physical, and a tension, a layered change in the atmosphere around them, seemed to come from the man in the cell. She’d read about charisma, and she understood tension, as well as instinct. Hers told her the guy had been watching her. 

She just knew it. 

Or maybe her imagination had gone amuck in the military-like facility, and he’d stretched out to sleep on the narrow cot, forgetting all about her. Was he watching or wasn’t he? Unanswered questions pricked her like needles. So finally giving up, she turned to face him. 

Nope. He remained sitting, his gaze thoughtful on her. “I thought you’d never turn my way.” Through the Plexiglas, his voice emerged deep and softened. 

“I have work to do.” She brushed hair off her forehead and tried not to squirm. Years ago she’d read a book featuring a hero with the face of a fallen angel, and she had rolled her eyes, while imagining a light-skinned, blue-eyed cherub having curly golden hair that so was not sexy. 

Now, facing masculine, sculpted perfection… she understood. Angels held ideal beauty, while a fallen one would probably appear dark and deadly, like the man facing her. Gods had chiseled Jory’s face into hard lines and sharp angles. The nearly brutal contours were arranged with full lips, dark brows, and a firm jaw. An unusual gray colored his eyes into the deepest of storm clouds, and a small scar cut into his left eyebrow, hinting at danger and strength. 

Any woman would be attracted to him and find him compelling. Alone, in the utilitarian cell, his beauty alone would tempt any romantic to try and save him. 

Bad guy or not. 

He overwhelmed the cot, his hands and feet beyond large. Most guys his size looked like overgrown puppies, but the thought of comparing the warrior to a scampering animal was laughable at best. 

“You’re wasting your time with trying to engage the chip,” he said. “I strongly suggest you give up now and get out of here.” 

Charismatic and too handsome, without question. A sense of sexual danger all but cascaded off him, and she had the oddest sense he knew it. Maybe even controlled it—which did nothing but intrigue her more. 

She shook her head. The military place full of secrets was messing with her imagination, and the romanticism she had to tamp down. Her stash of romances would remain untouched for a while, and after the job had been successfully completed, she’d reward herself with a weekend of binging on alpha males and surreal adventures. 

For now, she’d get the job done. 

He watched her face as if fascinated by an engaging television show. Could he read her so easily? As if responding to her unasked question, he smiled. Even teeth, a flash of white in a devastating face. 

Her breath sped up, and flutters beat through her abdomen. Her brain tried to shut down any response, while her body flared alive. A flush spread like wildfire up from her chest and over her face with such a force her skin flamed. 

How was he doing that? 

Her head snapped up. While her body seemed to be on the blink, her mind remained clear, but now incredibly intrigued. “I can figure out how to wirelessly reach your chip,” she said, quietly pleased when her voice remained steady. 

“No, you can’t. While I appreciate the Hail Mary pass, you can’t reconnect to the chip. It’s damaged. Off-line. Unreachable. Trust me.” His earnest expression would probably gain him admittance to heaven if he asked nicely. 

Considering that her taste in men truly sucked until just recently, it figured she’d be attracted to him. But really, who wouldn’t be? The guy was every movie hero, romance novel antihero, and sexy villain she’d ever seen all tumbled into one seriously hot package. 

But he was full of shit, and he’d just made his first mistake. No way—no way had he given up on life so easily. Nobody worked at staying in such amazing physical shape to just roll over and die. Well, unless he had another reason to stay fit. “Trust you? Seriously?” 

He cocked his head to the side and lifted one eyebrow. “Sure. Why not?” 

She could take the mocking, and she could handle the tension he seemed to shoot her way. But treating her as a dumb girl and trying to charm her into trust? Hell to the no. 

She rushed from her chair and toward the cell. So stupid to let her temper free. Darn Irish blood. “Gee, I don’t know. Maybe because you’re a traitor?” Damn it. She couldn’t let him get under her skin, but anybody who’d turn against their own country should be shot. Not saved. And somebody that freakin’ amazingly hot had so many advantages in life it was even worse he’d chosen the wrong path. “Here I am trying to fix the chip planted in your back.” 

He stood slowly and deliberately, his dark gaze keeping hers, his expression inscrutable. “Who do you think planted the chip?” 

She swallowed and fought the urge to step back. Damn, he was big. Instead, she lifted her chin, a necessity if she wanted to meet his gaze directly. “That’s what happens when you double-cross Russians.” 

A low rumble of a laugh barked out of him. “Russians? Seriously? Fucking Russians.” Dark amusement filtered through his tone and glittered in those amazing eyes. “You’re not as smart as you look, green eyes.” 

She was a fucking genius, actually. Even though most of the world believed Russia was contained, her limited experience at the NSA during her internship proved otherwise. “While I appreciate your attempts to get into my head, I should get back to work to save your life. You know, in time for the court martial.” 

His smile revealed even white teeth. No dimples. Shouldn’t a fallen angel have a dimple or two? “There’s no way to fix the chip, as it was damaged physically by a bullet. No router problem, no way to repair the connection. Setting to WAP personal won’t work and neither will setting to mixed network mode.” He shrugged massive shoulders. 

Interesting. She stilled and studied him closer, if that were possible. Intelligence filled his eyes, which she’d overlooked because of his hulking size… and his incredible looks. “So you know a little bit about computers, do you?” If he was as knowledgeable as he seemed, he could’ve sold all sorts of state secrets to their enemies. 

“A bit. Don’t waste time using stumblers or sniffers. The last techs they sent wasted too much time trying.” He sighed. “Then they tried a wireless honey pot. Idiots.” 

She shook her head. He seemed to have the world at his feet, just from brains, brawns, and beauty. “Why?” she asked, her voice croaking. 

Furrows dug into his forehead, and he stepped closer to the glass. “Why what?” 

Although impossible, she could swear she felt heat from his body through the partition. “Why would you do such a thing? Betray your own people?” Sure, she’d made mistakes—big ones. But disloyalty wasn’t one of them. 

His gaze softened. “I have never betrayed my own people. Ever.” 

The words had to be a lie, but truth echoed in the low tones. She sighed. “So your people aren’t the citizens of your own country.”