by Debra Webb
But not this time, apparently.
Sabrina shook her head. “No.”
He cocked his head and leveled his most intimidating glare on her. “Why?” He raised one hand when she would have argued his high-handedness. “Just tell me why.”
Sabrina rubbed her tired eyes with the fingers of both hands, then rested her face in her palms for a moment. There was no point in beating around the bush. Court always got his way. He simply wouldn’t stop until he did. But not this time. Not the way he wanted to, anyway. She folded her arms over her middle and looked straight at him. “Because I don’t want to get close to you again, Court. I don’t want to depend on you in any way. It hurt too much when you left the last time. I can’t let you do that to me again.”
He blinked twice. Sabrina couldn’t say for sure what it was she saw in his eyes then. A mixture of pain and anger, and maybe even regret.
“I know I hurt you, and I regret that.”
A tiny shock reverberated through her at his admission. He stared at the floor for a few seconds, and Sabrina’s heart foolishly pounded with anticipation at what he would say next. At last he continued, “I know there’s nothing I can do to change the past or to even make up for it. I can’t tell you that I won’t be leaving again soon, because I will.”
Unbidden, tears welled in her eyes. She had known he wouldn’t stay, but hearing it said aloud made it more real, somehow. Sabrina swiped fiercely at the one tear that managed to escape. Dammit, why did she have to cry? To show him all over again just how much power he held over her even now.
Court reached for her hand, his own shaking just a little. Or did she only imagine it?
“Brin, let me be here for you for just a little while. I want to help you,” he urged, a plea in his voice…and something else. “No hidden agenda. I just want to help you.”
Her gaze flew to his and Sabrina knew in an instant what she’d heard in his voice. Court’s eyes were bright with his own emotions. He wasn’t openly crying as she was, tears streaming down her cheeks, but inside he was weeping. She could hear it in his voice and see it deep in those smoky depths. He truly wanted to help her. Slowly, giving her ample time to draw away, he pulled her into his arms and held her. Just held her.
“I swear I won’t hurt you this time,” he murmured.
Desperation tore through her. He wanted to make things right between them…but she could never allow him close enough to do that. Court wanted a clear conscience when he left Montana the next time. Could she live with her own conscience if she simply allowed him to walk away without telling him the truth?
Did she have a choice?
Ryan’s whole future depended on what Sabrina did right now. If Court discovered her secret he might just demand joint custody. What kind of life would that be for a child? She could not risk Ryan’s happiness.
Not for hers…not even for Court’s.
CHAPTER SIX
WHEN COURT STOPPED at the gate to the compound after leaving the Double K, the guard rushed to his window. “We’ve been waiting for you to get back,” the man said breathlessly. “Joshua needs you. Report to your quarters, Brother Brody. I’ll let Joshua know that you’re back right away.”
Adrenaline burned through Court’s veins, sending him on instant alert. He nodded and drove through the open gate. Once he’d parked his truck he double-timed it down to the lieutenants’ quarters, the pounding in his chest keeping time with his racing thoughts. Had he made a wrong move? Said the wrong thing to anyone? He didn’t think so. Maybe one of the men here had seen him at the Watering Hole with Austin. But that alone wouldn’t be proof of anything. And Austin had taken care of Benson. No one could be the wiser on that score.
Whatever the case, Court had no choice but to play the hand he’d been dealt and see where it took him. It wouldn’t be the first time, nor the last, that his life had hung in the balance. It was part of the job.
The front side of the long barracks building had been designated as housing for the upper echelon. Each lieutenant had a private room. Court slowed as he approached the last door on the far end of the building, his door. He forced an expression of calm and slowed his breathing. Three men waited outside his door. One was Ferguson, the other two were local boys new to the training program.
“About time you came back,” Ferguson growled. “I was beginning to think we’d have to send out a search party to look for you.”
Court’s wariness moved to a new level. Ferguson was just waiting for a chance to take him down. Court would have to be particularly careful where this man was concerned. But not tonight. If Court had been made, Ferguson would have greeted him with a loaded nine-millimeter rather than a mere sarcastic remark. Maybe Neely would even lend Ferguson his Ruger as he had Court.
“Can’t a man spend a little time with a woman without someone looking for him?” Court asked as he removed his hat and plowed a hand through his hair.
The two guys with Ferguson laughed outright, but not Ferguson, who glared at Court. “Next time,” he grated, “let me know where you can be located. Joshua doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”
Court nodded. “I’ll remember that.”
“See that you do. Let’s go.”
Ferguson glowered one last warning in Court’s direction, then strode toward the training center, Court following. The other two men brought up the rear. Court decided the presence of the other two men was for a show of force. Ferguson liked to make a big splash at everything he did. But instinct warned Court to be constantly on his guard. There was still the off chance he had been made and Ferguson just didn’t know it yet. But Court doubted that possibility.
Once inside the training center, the other two men were dismissed. Ferguson nodded toward the rear of the building. “I think you know where we’re going.”
Court followed Ferguson into the hole Raymond had first led him to just two days ago. A new kind of tension surged through Court then. Maybe he was about to find out exactly what Neely was up to. That would suit Court just fine. He didn’t relish spending any more time than was absolutely necessary with the man or his followers. Though it was clear to Court that most of the folks involved with the Sons and Daughters of Montana were good people, they didn’t have any inkling whatsoever of the kind of man they had elevated to such a powerful position. The ammo room he and Ferguson had just passed spoke volumes about the man and his intentions.
Joshua Neely was a dangerous man. The only things Court needed to find out were on what level and with whom he was involved. Court felt certain that the people he saw every day supporting Neely couldn’t possibly have financed an operation this elaborate. This level of activity and financial support was backed by a powerful group way beyond anything in or around Livingston, Montana. Court knew that the Black Order preferred to encourage groups like Neely’s. People far too uninformed to understand who was taking them by the hand, but dedicated enough to follow orders without question.
Neely and the rest of the lieutenants were waiting in the white room. Though he’d fully expected the starkness, still Court reacted to the absolute white with its contrasting black table in the middle just like the first time he’d been led through the door.
“Now that we are all here, take your places, brothers,” Neely ordered. “We have much to discuss.”
Though Neely didn’t ask any questions, Court could feel his gaze on him as he took his chair. All eyes focused on Neely as he settled back into his thronelike chair.
“We have been blessed, my fine lieutenants,” he began. “Our faithful waiting has come to an end.”
Court stole a glance at Ferguson, who was smiling, his gaze fixed firmly on their leader. As far as Court could see without turning his head, the rest of the men wore the same contented expression. Maybe Sabrina had pegged it right when she talked about Neely’s spell.
“In five days’ time we will receive the final shipment of arms that will ready us to do battle for our cause,” he thundered. “And may God have me
rcy on those who would stand in our way.”
Cheers went up around the room. Court sat, stunned, by the words Neely had just uttered. Battle? Was he intending to lead these unsuspecting people into some sort of war against local law enforcement? Silence fell over the room again as Neely scanned the waiting faces before him. Court adopted the same look of barely restrained enthusiasm as his counterparts to pass Neely’s scrutiny.
“We will collect our shipment from Mr. Fahey at dawn five days from now. He has graciously agreed to meet us near the Canadian border.” Neely leaned forward, eager to share his next words. “Mr. Fahey will be providing not only the weapons we ordered, but more important, the precise explosives we require, as well.”
A new round of exuberant cheers and shouts roared from the men, while a dead calm settled over Court. Fahey. He knew the name. The man was the most notorious arms dealer north of the Mexican border in the Bureau’s files. If Fahey was involved, this was big. He didn’t waste his time dealing with small fish. Court swallowed in an effort to wet his suddenly dry throat. He would find a way to get word to Austin, if not tonight, first thing in the morning.
Fahey was a serious threat. He dealt in many types of explosives, but he specialized in one particular very new, very experimental type…something easily concealed yet that carried a hell of a casualty rate with massive property damage.
Demo, short for Demolition, was designed for use in blowing up buildings, or whole city blocks. A small amount went a very long way, making it easy to conceal for delivery to the target. The explosive was incredibly expensive and few dealers handled it. Fahey was the number one source for Demo.
Court’s gaze moved back to rest on Neely. The man’s pleased smile at the unity and complete obedience before him made Court feel physically ill. He would stop this man…one way or another.
“Now, my faithful lieutenants, we must make plans,” Neely announced, garnering another round of rowdy cheering.
As if sensing Court’s disloyal thoughts, Neely turned in his direction. His smile widened as he placed his hand on Court’s. Court resisted the urge to jerk it back; instead he manufactured a pleased expression.
Neely leaned toward him. “Brother Brody, it’s very important that you remain close to the compound during the upcoming days. If some need requires that you leave for a short time, ensure that you leave word with Brother Green as to your whereabouts. Our time is close at hand. We must not be late for the calling.”
Summoning his most humble and heartfelt tone, Court placed his free hand over Neely’s and said, “It’s an honor to serve you, Joshua. I’ll be ready.”
Neely nodded his approval. He squeezed Court’s hand before releasing it. “With Mr. Fahey’s provisions, we shall prove victorious.”
Court joined the other men, who were still cheering and boasting of their dedication to the cause, but he didn’t miss Ferguson’s menacing glare. Court only smiled at him, adding insult to injury. The man was seriously worried about Court’s relationship with Neely. Ferguson turned away and added his booming voice to the others.
The stakes had just been upped. And Ferguson would do whatever necessary to protect his position as Neely’s right arm. Court would have to watch his back around Ferguson, but he had suspected that from the beginning.
Leaving again tonight would be too risky, Court decided. First thing tomorrow he had to find a way to get word to Austin about the delivery from Fahey. Court caught Ferguson’s evil, assessing gaze on him again. But right now Court had to worry about surviving the night.
SABRINA SCANNED the training center once more for Court or Charlie. A group of men were dismantling and cleaning weapons in one large classroom on the first floor of the building, while others were listening to an instructor Sabrina didn’t recognize describe the steps involved in grenade handling in another classroom. She shivered in spite of the sweat rolling down her back. It was hot as Hades outside, but the goings-on before her chilled her from the inside out.
She hurried past the doors, peeking through each as she passed. She paused at the weapons room. The sight of all those guns made her stomach roil.
“Looking for someone?”
Sabrina whipped around at the sound of the condescending male voice behind her. Thad Ferguson looked her up and down before settling his leering gaze back on her face. A rifle hung from a strap over his shoulder.
She resisted the almost overwhelming urge to back up a step. No way was she giving this overzealous soldier the satisfaction of knowing he’d scared the daylight out of her. “I was looking for Court Brody.”
Something changed in Ferguson’s expression, hardened, turned even meaner. “Well, he’s not here.”
Sabrina swiped her damp palms on her thighs. “Do you know where I can find him?”
“Maybe.” His gaze traced the fit of her jeans once more. “What do you want him for? Maybe I can help you with whatever you need.”
Sabrina tamped down the urge to shudder with revulsion. She had to think of some acceptable excuse for needing Court. “He…he started some work at my ranch for me last evening. I wanted to make sure he still intended to finish the job like he promised.” There, she relaxed a bit. That sounded logical. Anxiety twisted inside her all the same, making her want to run. “It’ll…it’ll only take a minute for me to ask him.”
Ferguson studied her a moment longer, weighing her words, she supposed. It was then that she noticed the slight puffiness of his left eye. She wondered if he’d been in a late-night brawl at the Watering Hole. Most of the jerks around here hung out there.
“Since Brody did a little something for you, what’d you do for him?” he asked with a vulgar grin.
Fury ignited her courage. “Are you going to tell me where he is or not?” she demanded. “I don’t have all day.”
“My, my, you’re a feisty thing, now, aren’t you?” He moved closer, but she held her ground. “You need a real man to calm you down, not a wuss like Brody. I’d be more than happy to show you the difference.”
Feeling entirely too brave for her own good, Sabrina smiled at him. “Well, I’ll tell you what, Ferguson. When you run into a real man, you tell him to give me a call.”
His face reddened and he narrowed his gaze at her. “Don’t get smart with me, woman, or I’ll put you in your place. Hell, you might even find you like my tactics.”
“Just tell me where to find Court.” This conversation had taken a definite turn for the worse.
“I’ll do you one better than that.” He snagged her by the right arm. “I’ll show you.”
Sabrina jerked and tugged with all her might to free herself from the ape dragging her across the room, but his iron-clad grip wouldn’t give.
“Turn me loose,” she warned when he hesitated at the bottom of the stairs leading to the second floor.
He sneered at her. “You said you wanted Court. I’m only taking you to him.”
With seemingly no effort at all, Ferguson forced her up the stairs. She would never have imagined the gorilla would be that strong. Her heart threatened to burst from her chest. The sting of tears blurred her vision. She had to fight him. He could have anything in mind. And none of the others would help her.
When they entered the upstairs hallway, Sabrina glanced both ways, looking for an avenue of escape. If she could free herself from this lunatic she would just have to take her chances with the stairs. That appeared to be the only exit.
She had to get away.
He shoved her through a set of double doors into a large room. She paused in her struggle with Ferguson and hesitantly surveyed the area. Training mats were scattered like throw rugs over the floor, effectively sectioning the room off into three separate areas. Pairs of men were doing what looked like martial arts training at each set of mats, while others observed their display.
Ferguson nodded to the group on the far side of the room. “He’s over there.”
Her gaze followed his gesture, but it wasn’t until the observers shifted s
lightly that she got her first glimpse of Court. He and another man were going at it pretty hard. Sabrina flinched when one blow caught Court squarely on the left cheek. As Ferguson escorted her across the room it became quite clear, though, that Court had the upper hand. Sabrina released the breath she hadn’t even realized she’d been holding until then. The thought of Court being hurt was almost more than she could bear.
Both men had shed their shirts. Sabrina’s gaze riveted to the glorious sight of Court’s sweat-dampened torso. Her fingers tingled with the memory of that amazing terrain. Rock-hard muscle flexed and bunched as he moved around the mat, throwing punches or avoiding those of his opponent. The two circled each other in a wary dance of sorts. Court’s more gold than brown hair fell across his forehead in thick locks. His intent focus never left his opponent.
Sabrina’s heart triple-timed into a quick tattoo that had nothing to do with fear and everything to do with Court Brody. Would her son be as confident and physically strong as his father? She hoped that would be the case. But she prayed with all of her heart that Ryan would not be cursed with Court’s restless heart. She had to find out what had happened to turn him away from the job with the FBI that he seemed to love so. Could it be that he simply couldn’t stay in one place or do one thing for too long without losing interest?
Sabrina frowned as she considered their surroundings. Court wasn’t like these men, she was sure of it. He might appear so on the surface, but she knew that he was a good man beneath that promilitia exterior. Why else would he insist on helping her when she had made it clear that she didn’t want his help?
Guilt…maybe. He wasn’t a fool. He knew he had taken her comfort and then walked away without looking back. He could have at least called. But he hadn’t. Sabrina reminded herself as she watched him throw the other man to the mat, that Court would leave this time, too. He’d said as much last night. She knew better than to count on him…or to fall in love with him again. She knew better than anyone that there was no future in loving Court Brody.
