In a matter of seconds, they were joined by the remaining men, Caleb, Isaac and Capshaw, and they moved out, separating just enough that they didn’t present an easy target for someone seeking to take them out with a single blast.
There was a drop-off halfway between the house and the heavily wooded area surrounding the property on all sides. Here, the ground sloped sharply downward before leveling off again the farther they got from the house.
Beau was heading the group and was so focused on his immediate surroundings and keeping a watchful eye toward the woods and any other potential ambush spot that he tripped over something large and bulky, nearly sprawling to the ground.
What the fuck? That felt like . . . a body.
Beau scrambled for his footing before backing away and motioning the others to do the same. Zack and Dane leveled their weapons at the downed figure while Beau moved in closer.
The man lay perfectly still, no detectable respirations. Eliza knelt beside Beau and quickly shone her small flashlight over the man’s face and Beau recoiled. Holy hell. The man had been beaten to death.
“Shit,” Eliza breathed. “I’ve never seen anyone beaten this badly. Who the hell do you think it is?”
To their complete and utter shock, the man’s lips moved the barest of centimeters. But enough for them to realize he was alive. The entire group exchanged baffled looks. How someone this badly beaten was even semiconscious was flabbergasting.
“Ari,” the man said with a gasp, wincing in pain at just the one word that whispered past his lips.
Beau surged to attention and leaned down to stare in the man’s battered, swollen and bloodied face. God, he was utterly unrecognizable as a human being. He looked more a monster than a man.
“What about Ari?” Beau demanded. “What happened to you? Who did this to you? And what do you know about Ari?”
“Daughter,” he rasped out.
A chill went up Beau’s spine and he glanced back at the others in disbelief.
“Need . . . you . . . tell something.”
His voice was growing weaker by the second and Beau had to lean even farther down to hear what he was saying.
The man’s hand fluttered weakly upward, flailing, as if reaching for something to anchor himself with. Beau’s response was automatic. No matter who this man was or what he had done, no one deserved to be savaged this way.
Once Beau’s hand gripped his, his fingers tightened around Beau’s and his eyes slitted open, determination flagging in their depths.
“Tell Ari . . . I loved her. Mother loved too . . .” His voice trailed off and he suddenly choked and then coughed convulsively, blood dribbling profusely from his mouth.
Oh man, this was bad. This was really bad. There was no way an ambulance would reach him in time. And they had to take out the threat to Ramie and Ari as well as to themselves.
“P-p-promise me,” he stuttered, blood bubbling and foaming down his chin. “Loved her always. Tell her. Never forgot her. Wanted her to be . . . happy. Have . . . good life.”
Ari’s biological father closed his eyes and sagged heavily, seeming to wilt right into the ground. Beau followed him down so their faces weren’t far apart and so he could hear Beau’s vow.
“I promise,” he said, still gripping the man’s hand. “Do you hear me? I swear I’ll give her your message. Rest easy now.”
His eyes opened one last time and then a peaceful smile settled over his face, softening some of the brutality wrought by extreme violence.
“Thank you,” he whispered. “Means the world.”
And then his head lolled to the side and his hand went completely slack in Beau’s grasp.
“Son of a bitch,” Beau swore. “These people are animals and they want Ari!”
“Easy, brother,” Caleb said, putting his hand on Beau’s shoulder. “We’ll just have to make sure that doesn’t happen.”
“Jesus, they put a toe tag on him like they do at the fucking morgue,” Zack said in disgust.
And sure enough. When Eliza shone her light down the man’s legs, a notecard was affixed to his toe with a string.
“What does it say?” Dane demanded.
Zack shook his head, disgust evident in his features as he slipped the tag off and took out his own flashlight to shine on the words.
“Jesus,” Zack muttered. “This is goddamn unreal.”
“What for God’s sake?” Beau said through his teeth. “We don’t have time to be fucking around here.”
Zack’s voice trembled with anger as he read what was scrawled on the card in small lettering.
We were much more merciful with him than we were with his wife, but only because we were on a tight timeline. We won’t show you any mercy. This is what happens to people who interfere with our cause in any way. Arial Rochester is ours. We created her. We are her blood. Back off before your entire organization is wiped out. We have more resources and power than you can ever imagine.
“Oh hell no,” Eliza said in a rage-induced, pissed-off voice. “Those assholes are taunting us? I’d like to tell them exactly what they can do with their resources.”
Beau ran a hand over his face, closing his eyes, regret for Ari so strong. His heart ached for her. For all the hurt this would cause her. Her life would never be the same again. She’d know too much to ever live with the naïve innocence she once enjoyed. He didn’t normally advocate willful, ignorant bliss, but in this case, Ari would be so much better off if she had never known the truth. Because now that she had part of it—the most important part, that the Rochesters weren’t her biological parents—she’d want—demand—the rest of the story and she was entitled to it. She deserved the truth, no matter how much it hurt her. No matter how much it hurt him to have to be the one to give her all the damning evidence. But at the same time, he didn’t want it coming from anyone else. He wanted to tell her when he could hold her and offer comfort. Damn it. If he had his way he’d always be there to comfort her when she needed it.