by Mandy Harbin
Jedrek crossed his arms, and Jerome came to stand beside Mason, looking a little nervous. “He just told her he knew the truth, right, Mason?”
He looked at Jedrek because the man would understand. “And then I spanked her ass her for lying to me.”
Jerome groaned.
Jedrek actually cracked a smile.
Viola gasped. “Why you—” She stormed toward him, but Jedrek grabbed her arm. She whirled on the other man since he was the one actually restraining her. “I’m going to kick his ass,” she yelled at Jedrek as she tried fruitlessly to yank her arm away.
“No, you won’t. He was within his right to punish her.”
She stilled. Mason wasn’t one to be easily scared by a woman’s wrath, but this was an exception. He preferred her screeched and jerking than standing dangerously still. “What does that mean?” she whispered.
“He’s her Dom. She betrayed him.” He glanced at Mason. “Did she use her safe word?”
“No.”
Jedrek looked at Viola again. “See. If she didn’t want him to punish her, she would have used it.”
“She didn’t want him to hurt her!”
“I didn’t want her to hurt me,” Mason roared, feelings of betrayal flooding him at the memory. Fuck, but her deception had cut him to the core.
Viola jumped at his outburst, and Jedrek let go of her. She looked at him warily for several seconds. He could see the wheels turning, her mulling over the truth. There was no way she could spin it to change what had happened. Finally, she said, “You’re right. She did hurt you. She didn’t have a choice, Mason. And I will say this, she wished more than anything that she didn’t have to.”
He snapped his mouth shut and turned away. He was not going to discuss this with her. He looked at his watch to gauge how much time he had left before he needed to leave. Fuck it. “I’m heading to the hangar.” He leaned over, turned her laptop toward him, and pulled out his phone. He saved the two North Carolina addresses into his device. “What’s your number?”
She rattled it off, and he stored it in his contacts. He hadn’t missed Jedrek doing the same. Mason sent her a quick text, so she would also have his number.
“I need to go, too,” Viola said as she reached for her gun. “I need to tell Rick about Dave before we head out.” Her eyes fell, and he hated that she was hurting. Hated it because she was someone important to Shelby.
“Let me know as soon as you know something concrete,” Mason said, and looked at Jedrek and Jerome. “Let’s go.”
He couldn’t wait a second longer.
The cool surface felt so good Shelby didn’t want to get up. She didn’t know why she was so tired, but lethargy wasn’t a bad thing, she decided. Somewhere inside the haze, she knew there were things she didn’t want to face, and sleep would protect her. The surface rocked, lulled her. No, she didn’t want to wake up, not right now, even as the knowledge lingered that she didn’t have a choice in the matter.
Sometime later, she stirred at the sound of voices. The cool surface now stuck to her sweaty cheek. She heard a click, and the voices stopped. Her barely awake mind tried to identify it. Maybe she’d fallen asleep watching television, and the autotimer had shut it off. But the sound had been louder, closer. She inhaled deeply and stilled any movement. The surface smelled rugged, like leather, which didn’t make any sense. Her couch wasn’t made of that.
She opened one eye first and blinked in confusion at a closed sunroof above her. She was in a car. She looked to the side and amended that—a limo. How could that be? The clicking sound was probably the door shutting with the voices belonging to…who? One was probably Darrell, she thought halfheartedly.
Darrell. Her memories assaulted her then, jolting her heart. God, he’d drugged her, kidnapped her. He was working with William. He was probably the other voice.
No. That couldn’t be right. Darrell was a heck of an agent, always doing things by the book. He wouldn’t turn on them like this. She rolled to her side, groaning with the effort it took to move her body. She felt as if she weighed a ton, the effects of the drugs still strong within her. She panted as she listened, but no longer heard muffled voices. Where were they?
Rick must have Darrell working on the inside, though the thought of that angered her. Why would he divide the team like this and not tell everybody what each of their assignments were? Hell, she blushed, remembering how she’d found out her objective, and she’d been told in a roomful of people. Rick must have his reasons for keeping Darrell’s assignment private, reasons that could’ve come from higher up. If Darrell was working a classified angle, no one would’ve been told, and he was too much by-the-book to let even Shelby in on his assignment.
His last words echoed in her mind, “I really don’t want to have to kill you, little bit. Be a good girl, and we might let you live.” He’d been convincing. She’d been scared in her confused state, but he’d had to make it realistic if William was to believe he would actually hurt her. If anybody could sympathize with Darrell and his need to play his role to his best ability, it was Shelby. She’d been given an impossible assignment, having no choice but to accept it. The same was true for Darrell. If the bureau needed him to be undercover, then she knew he’d accept whatever task that had been laid before him. How he was able to get in, she didn’t know. Whatever key he used to unlock that steely door guarding the path to William’s trust had worked. Hopefully, with what he had on William and the evidence they’d gathered on Mason, it would be enough to take the two down.
Though she didn’t like Darrell incapacitating her like this. Why had he brought her here anyway? He knew Mason had found out she was an agent. It was too dangerous for her to be around William.
Oh crap. Had William ordered her dead? Was that why Darrell had to stage a kidnapping? No matter what the others said about Mason, she didn’t think he had it in him to kill her. Carl? That was a different matter. But Shelby? No, he wouldn’t kill her. He’d had the chance to execute her if that had been his wish. She’d been bound and at his mercy, all the while he’d known the truth about her. He’d been enraged. She’d seen the hurt in his eyes and had known how utterly devastated he’d been. If he hadn’t killed her in his fury, he wouldn’t order it after the fact.
Unless he’d had time to calm down and realized he’d screwed up by not killing her when he’d had the chance.
That thought hurt more than she liked to admit.
She jerked at a sudden shout, muffled by the car, but it was a panicked sound still. She hoisted herself up and glanced through the window. Where were they? If Darrell was in trouble, she should try to help. More importantly, if something happened and he was made, she didn’t want to be waiting around for William to show up alone without Darrell around to protect her. She fisted her hands and rolled her neck, forcing away the numbness from the weaker parts of her body. She had feeling, but not one hundred percent. It would have to do. She couldn’t sit here doing nothing.
And what if the shout had nothing to do with trouble? It would look as if she was trying to escape. Darrell might have to drug her again. No way did she want more of this crap in her system. It was a risk she had to take, so she’d have to be careful. She opened the door and slipped to the ground, staying low. She gently shut it and looked from left to right, searching for any sign of Darrell. She was in a shaded area, and when she looked up, she realized she was in a large building that was completely open on one end. She crawled to the side and hid behind some crates as she peered around the opening. She watched as a jet took off in the distance and then, much closer to her, a smaller plane’s hatch opened, stairs distending.
An airport.
There was no movement. Things were almost too quiet considering her whereabouts. The scream she’d heard hadn’t made any sense. Then again, maybe it hadn’t been a scream at all. Now that she knew she was at an airport, it could’ve been a jet engine starting. For all she knew, Darrell and William were on the plane talking and there was no immedia
te danger.
Then she heard it again. Someone shouted…another voice yelled after that.
“You’re surrounded. Come out with your hands up!”
Yes! Darrell must’ve called in backup. But where was he? If he was still with William, he would be vulnerable. The jackass could try to kill him if he discovered Darrell was playing him. She looked to the side and saw a sniper stationed on the opposite side of the runway. A glance to the right confirmed more guys closing in wearing SWAT uniforms. She didn’t know these people, which meant they didn’t know her and probably not Darrell. If he was on the plane with William, the jerk could push him out, instigating fire. If the men thought their lives were in danger, they’d shoot first and ask questions later. She had to warn them about Darrell possibly being trapped on that plane.
Shelby crouched over the crate and slid against the wall until she reached the opening. Staying low, she crawled out and to the side. The movement in her peripheral caught her.
“Childers?” she said, shocked. What was Carson doing here? Had her team been on location all weekend preparing to take down William and Mason?
Then she looked to the side and saw a furious-looking Mason closing in on Carson. Oh no! On instinct, she jumped from the side of the building and screamed a warning to Carson before Mason could take him out. She moved slower than she wanted, her body still not completely cooperating with her commands.
Someone fired.
Mason roared.
Shelby fell to the ground, fire lancing her back as gunshots erupted around her. She grabbed her chest as she wheezed for the air that had been knocked out of her upon impact.
Footsteps pounded toward her as she squeezed her eyes against the pain. She must’ve landed on a paver or something. She just hoped it was a cavalry coming to pull her out of harm’s way and not the enemy.
Someone dropped beside her. “Look at me.”
Fuck. She knew that voice.
She opened her eyes, though she knew it was Mason who’d gotten to her before her teammates. She had to have been still pretty drugged because he sounded too worried for her brain to understand. He should be furious and trying to get away, not running toward her.
“Hurry up!” he yelled above her and looked at her again. “Let’s roll you to your side. I need to see how bad it is.”
She took in a rattling breath as he rolled her and coughed, struggling to get in enough oxygen. She tasted copper and wiped her mouth, her hand coming way streaked with blood. “I’m hit,” she tried saying. Her body began to shake as pain bloomed. She’d been shot.
“I know, baby. Help is coming. Hold on. Hold on. You’re going to be okay.”
“Why…you…here?” She tried asking why he was there with her and not on the plane trying to escape. She didn’t want him fleeing justice, but she didn’t understand why he hadn’t tried getting away.
“I came for you, baby.”
Another man dropped next to her with Carson and Viola taking up places around her. The guy ripped the back of her shirt and started doing something to her back, but she couldn’t see. Mason had grabbed her hand and held it as he watched her intently. She gasped at the pain and coughed more blood when the sudden intake of air triggered it.
“Darrell…have to get him…on plane.”
“Don’t worry about Darrell. Rick has gone after him. He won’t let him get away. Just focus on you,” Viola said, squeezing her upper arm.
Shelby glanced at her and frowned at the words. They didn’t make sense. “Get away?” she breathed.
Viola’s gaze jerked to Carson. “Don’t worry about that now, Landry,” he said. “Just know that Showalter here isn’t a criminal. He was the mole. He’s been working with Jerome Parker to take down William Baxter.”
“What?” she asked, looking at Mason again and hacking up more blood.
“We’ll explain everything later. Right now, I want you to quit talking, breathe slowly, and relax,” Mason said calmly.
“This will help,” the man said behind her. Warmth spread throughout her body, deadening the pain, making her eyes heavy.
“No. He gave me something already.” Though she wasn’t sure if the words came out. She didn’t want to pass out, medicated or otherwise. She wanted to ask questions, find out what the hell Viola meant about Darrell, and get clarification on what Carson said about Mason. She felt confused. Surely she hadn’t heard them right. She jumbled their words round in her head, trying to find the correct order of them so she could comprehend what they’d tried telling her.
She shut her eyes on a sigh. Just thinking about everything was taking too much effort. The areas where hands touched her began to tingle and a sense of flying came over her.
The last thing she felt was Mason’s lips against her ear as he said, “I’ve got you, baby.”
Whether or not it was her confused mind still playing tricks on her, she knew how true those words really were.
If only he knew that.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Carl O’Brian is alive.”
“Mason Showalter is the whistleblower.”
“Darrell Tobin is dead.”
Bits of conversations Shelby had heard while in her hospital bed after having surgery had flitted through her mind every day since. A lot of time had passed, but she still hadn’t been able to accept the truths she’d learned that day. And after two weeks in the hospital and another three weeks at home, Shelby wasn’t back to her old self physically either. Doctors had told her it’d take at least six weeks, possibly longer, to heal, but she didn’t like those terms. She was going crazy being cooped up at home with her thoughts. Her memories.
“Darrell Tobin is dead.”
“Mason Showalter is the whistleblower.”
“Dave sold you out.”
That last bit of information had come from Viola. She’d been fighting tears when she’d confessed this, and Shelby had known her friend had felt at fault. She wasn’t. Shelby refused to accept that, but no matter how she’d tried telling Viola this, she wouldn’t listen. She would close up and change the subject. All Shelby had gotten from her were the facts. Dave had a gambling problem she hadn’t known about. He’d gone to Mason and sold him the truth about their identities to pay a large gambling debt. Viola had wanted to pay Mason back the money Dave had extorted from him, but the man wouldn’t hear of it. She loved him a little more for that, not that it helped Viola. The woman had gone through more these last five weeks than Shelby could even dream. Sure, she’d been shot and was healing, albeit slowly. Viola, on the other hand, was uprooting her life, getting divorced from the man she thought she knew, and living with Shelby temporarily. The F and B case had changed them both.
“Darrell Tobin is dead.”
Her eyes watered at the reminder. She and Viola hadn’t been the only ones affected by the case. The knowledge that Darrell was a traitor to the bureau hurt more than the physical pain she’d gone through. She hadn’t believed it at first. The scenario she’d devised after waking in the limo had felt more believable. Her instincts couldn’t have been that far off. When she’d voiced this to Rick, he’d gently but firmly stated that it was her sense of preservation that had concocted it. Her heart hadn’t wanted to believe a man she trusted with her life would be so willing to throw hers away for money. He’d been right. She hadn’t wanted to believe it.
In the end, the man Darrell had been working with was the man who shot him, though he was now in custody and wasn’t talking. The hope was that Darrell had come to his senses in that dark hour, when they’d been surrounded, that he’d tried convincing William they should turn themselves in. It was a conversation that could’ve happened after Shelby had been shot. Ballistics matched the bullet in her lung to the gun found in William’s possession. But that theory was just that—wishful thinking. William had lawyered up right away. Even if he had been the one to shoot her, any attorney worth a dime would pin it on Darrell. Yeah, Shelby and her team didn’t know what really happened
in Darrell’s final moments, and they probably never would.
Shelby hadn’t gone to her mentor’s funeral. She’d still been in the hospital when he’d been laid to rest, but she still mourned him. No matter what kind of man he’d turned out to be, she still wept for him, for the loss of a friendship. A loss that would’ve happened whether he’d lived or died.
The fact that Carl O’Brian was alive made things easier. She was grateful he hadn’t been killed and beyond relieved that Mason hadn’t been behind any ill dealings surrounding the man.
“Mason Showalter is the whistleblower.”
That revelation had stunned her. It explained why her teammates hadn’t tackled him to the ground when he’d rushed toward her the day she’d been shot. But the knowledge made her feel even guiltier over using him on the case. She’d had a job to do. One she’d been thrust into without proper understanding, but she’d known full well she would be lying to the man. No matter how relieved she was at his innocence, it didn’t erase the fact that she’d played him.
She had been played, too. Darrell had monopolized her friendship for financial gain. The FBI had used her and her relationship with her mentor to take him out.
Shelby couldn’t put Mason in that same category, though, as those who’d played her. He’d had no idea of her true identity, so he’d had no need to inform her about anything. She’d been a stranger to him—at first. No man would relay that kind of information to someone he was just getting to know. He’d been a private man, not easily accepting of others, but she believed he would’ve told her about working with the SEC in his own time.
Because he had trusted her. She knew he had, but that acceptance had been built on a foundation of lies. It was a false connection, never real, and she couldn’t fault him his anger. One day, he might learn to forgive her, but the damage was done. Regardless of what happened between them, one thing bothered her that she couldn’t ignore. Something maybe her brother could help her with. It would be a long shot, and it wouldn’t change anything, but—
