Tate now knew why the Grand Master had sent a former Marine.
Tate cleared his throat. “Those are the only letters we have.”
Selene sucked in air. “It’s not a call to the altar then. It’s a rule, you have to be a member for six months…” There was worry in her voice, and Oscar’s jaw was clenched so hard, Tate could see the muscle.
Gun. He really should have a gun.
Selene finished ripping open her envelope. She read her letter, then turned to Luca, who opened his own, with less violence than she’d used. Luca and Selene looked at one another and then turned to Oscar.
Slowly, Luca held out his letter to Oscar. Oscar scanned it, and Tate knew what he was reading. Those letters were a call to the altar. And only Selene and Luca had received them.
Emotions flashed across Oscar’s face—shock, sadness, resignation, disappointment, and finally, rage. Tate muttered a soft curse when rage was the one that stuck, and he reconsidered taking his chances behind the Tesla Coil.
“Roman, why are you hand-delivering my letter?” Selene demanded, her attention still on Oscar, though she spoke to her cousin. “Why didn’t these come by courier?”
“I delivered it because the Grand Master asked me to,” Roman said simply.
Luca reached out to put his hand on Oscar’s shoulder. “You both have family who are members. I don’t.” Luca looked briefly at Tate. “Perhaps Langston is bringing your letter and he’s running late.”
“Yeah,” Oscar said, the word sounding far too emotionless and wooden to match the fury blazing in his eyes.
“Oscar,” Selene said gently, as if she was trying to calm a rabid dog.
“Gimme a minute.”
Before any of them could say another word, Oscar disappeared down the hallway.
Tate was tempted to play along with the Langston supposition, mutter something about “oh sure maybe.” His Spidey senses were tingling, telling him that this whole mission was about to be FUBAR. Tate reached for the back of Roman’s pants, wanting a handle so he could haul the other man out of there if needed.
He managed to grope Roman’s ass in the process. Roman turned to face him, arching a brow and giving him a look that was considering rather than offended.
Okay then.
Maybe if this mission didn’t go south, he and Roman could fool around. Tate had spent a solid hour last night fantasizing about Scarlet, but he was adaptable.
Selene spun to face them. “Is Langston coming with his letter?”
Tate put on his blank soldier face. “I’m sorry, Ms. Tanaka, I don’t have that information.”
Selene grabbed her cousin by the shoulders, and Tate tightened his hold on the back of Roman’s pants. “Is Oscar getting a letter?”
“Selene, I was sent to give you your letter. That is all.”
Roman, smart man that he was, worded his response very carefully.
Seeing the panic and fear on Selene and Luca’s faces made Tate’s heart hurt. He seriously considered telling them what was up, but this was supposed to be a punishment. Supposedly for Oscar, but it looked like the Grand Master, whom he didn’t dare do anything to piss off, was also punishing Luca and Selene.
“Damn it. I’m not...not ready to...” Selene whispered.
“Selene,” Luca said, stepping closer to her, his gaze worried. “Perhaps there is something we can do?”
Selene shrugged, shaking her head slowly. “We knew this day was coming eventually. Knew we were living on borrowed time, but I truly hoped...believed that the Grand Master would…”
She didn’t finish. Instead, she looked down at the letter. “We have to be in Boston in two days.”
“Two days?” Luca looked back down the hallway where Oscar disappeared. “That would give us enough time—”
“Enough time to run,” Oscar said as he appeared at the far end of the hall. His shoulders were set, his stride a bit too fast. And he held one hand down at his side and slightly behind his thigh, hiding his hand.
Mayday, mayday!
Tate’s internal alarm sounded, the suspicion that things were about to be FUBAR all but confirmed.
He locked eyes with Oscar, and in the other man’s gaze, he saw desperation. The desperation of a man who was about to lose the people he loved.
Tate yanked Roman back and slid in front of him, barking, “RUN!”
“Oscar, what—” Luca started to ask.
Oscar raised his hand and fired the weapon he held.
Tate had a split second to act, but with Roman, who had not run, behind him, there was nowhere to go. He used that second to shove Roman, shouting “Run!” again, and then the two barbed projectiles from the Taser stuck into Tate’s chest and shoulder.
Tate’s jaw clenched as pain rocked through him, fueled by the electricity. He hit his knees, and had just enough brain cells left functioning to remember that Luca had, not all that long ago, used a modified stun gun-type weapon on Levi, which had resulted in a nice hospital stay.
A fresh arc of electricity seized his muscles and Tate face planted.
He didn’t quite blackout, but he couldn’t move and his ears were ringing.
“Um, that may not have been an excellent idea,” Luca said.
“I’m buying us time,” Oscar snarled, his voice retreating as he stepped over Tate.
“Oscar, where are you going? You better not tase my favorite cousin.”
Tate lay on the floor of the hall, unable to move. He could vaguely hear shouting from outside.
FUBAR. Short for Fucked Up Beyond All Recognition.
This mission was royally FUBAR.
Chapter Two
Scarlet had just closed the back door of the rental car after stowing the antique cake cutter and framed wedding photos of Oscar’s parents and grandparents—they were going to display them at the reception—when she heard shouting.
Shouting wasn’t good.
Roman and Tate were just supposed to hand over the letters, make sure that Oscar knew when the other two were supposed to be in Boston—the plan hinged on him following his lovers—and then get out of there.
That plan was Plan A. The Grand Master might not have had a Plan B, but Scarlet did. She always had Plans A through J at the ready. It was her first time planning
