Mettle: (Spartan Riders #2)
Page 25
Tucker barked a charitable laugh. “Are you suggesting we stand back to back and pace it out? Because I have to admit, I’ve reached the limits of my patience tonight. As it is, I’m having trouble not shooting you on the spot.”
“And the fact that you continue to show such restraint is remarkable. You know, it doesn’t have to be this way. My beef isn’t with you. Not even with your little club, if you want to be technical. I’m just here for the girl.”
“Gabby? Nah, she’s not up for negotiation.”
“You banging her too?” he asked with amusement. “My, that woman gets around, doesn’t she. I bet your president wouldn’t be too happy to hear about that.”
Tucker didn’t bother wasting his breath correcting him. “I was going to shoot you between the eyes, make this quick, but now I’m thinking something more lasting. Stomach maybe?”
Cruiz just clucked his tongue, as if disappointed in him. “Such a shame to waste all that talent on people who will never appreciate you. Not the way I would. If you were on my side, I’d celebrate you.”
“Thanks, pendejo. I’ll be sure to remember that when I’m dancing on your grave.”
Cruiz’s arm flew up, gun aimed high, at the same time Tucker lowered his, aiming low. They pulled the trigger in unison, turning two shots into one.
A sudden and unexpected force jerked Tucker back, followed by the sensation of boiling water down his left arm. Even more confusing was the perfectly round hole carved between Cruiz’s eyes as he stood there, stare vacant. In slow motion, his body tipped backward and fell into the tall grass.
Tucker had been aiming for the stomach, so how…?
“God, you’re bleeding!”
Talia suddenly appeared at Tucker’s side, putting pressure on the wound to his shoulder. “It looks like the bullet passed clean through, but you’re going to have to get it looked at in case there’s any lasting damage.”
Covered in dirt and debris, a small cut above her right eye leaked blood down her temple. Her hair was wild, her cheekbone was bruised, he assumed, from where she’d collided with the wall. And she was a vision. Tucker couldn’t stop staring.
Talia noticed. Brows furrowed, her eyes darted to his and back to his injury, the bulk of her focus on keeping him from bleeding all over the place. “What?”
“Why did you shoot him?”
“Because he was going to shoot you.”
That was obvious. “And I was going to shoot him. Why would you put yourself in danger like that? I had him.”
“Don’t give me that macho man bullshit, Tuck. Just because I’m a woman doesn’t mean I can’t do the same thing as you.”
“Did you hear me say anything like that?” he challenged. Bright light filled the yard from overhead. It was then Tucker became aware that the police had arrived. He could hear officers infiltrating the house from the front and working their way back to them now. Before they did, though, he had to know why she would risk herself. “Why, Talia?”
“Why did I save your ass?”
“I had him.”
“Yeah, you did,” she confirmed, meeting his eyes. “But if you’d taken him out yourself, you’d be going to jail tonight.”
“I just killed a dozen men, maybe more. I’m going to jail anyway.”
“That was self-defense. He would have been an assassination.”
“He shot me,” he pointed out.
“And I’ll argue that I shot him because he was going to kill you.”
“You risked yourself for me.” Touching her face, Tucker trailed his fingertips across her cheekbone, down to her lips, then her chin, treasuring the feel of her in his hands while he still could.
“Just returning the favor,” she replied softly.
God, she was gorgeous. And sweet too. “Where’d you learn to shoot like that?”
The softness in her eyes drained right out and Talia drew away. That was when a couple of suits followed by several officers stormed the deck. The tall one in front with the round belly took stock of the scene with a quick visual sweep before addressing Talia head on.
“What in Sam Hill happened here?”
Tucker scowled, puzzled as to why the focus of that question seemed to be directed solely at Talia. The feeling only grew when she looked up at him, her round brown eyes filled with anguish.
“Talia?” Tucker whispered. He didn’t like the sinking sensation in his chest one bit.
“Agent McKinnon, care to explain why I have dead bodies all over the damn place?”
Say what now?
THIRTY-THREE
“So now you know.”
Tucker sat on the edge of the hospital bed, refusing to lay down for a single second. Not even when he had to get the bullet wound stitched shut, which was all the treatment he would accept. At least she’d been right. It was a clean shot, straight through the meat, and it didn’t appear to have shattered any bone.
Talia was just thankful all the important people came out on top tonight. Cruiz along with fifteen of his men had lost their lives, but that was a win as far as she was concerned. But while they celebrated the loss, she was keenly aware that there would be someone to take their place by this time tomorrow morning. That was the nature of crime and those who lived by its rules. There was always someone willing to step up and take over the business.
Right now, agents were combing the scene back at Blake and Gabby’s residence, as well as the last known address for Ricky Cruiz, which turned out to be a villa in the valley a few miles away that he’d rented out—in cash—just a few weeks ago.
“Now I know,” Tucker reiterated.
It was the first real words he’d said to her since Ingram unwittingly outed her. She still couldn’t believe he’d done that, but then again, he’d been pissed. Not to mention shocked by the level of devastation. Hell, so was she. Even knowing Tucker’s background, when she’d woken up and seen what he’d done while she was unconscious, she’d experienced a moment of true fear at what he was capable of.
Now that she had time to truly think about it, she was just in awe. He was magnificent. A warrior. A freaking Terminator. She stood before him feeling like Sarah Conner must have felt when she looked at Reese, her personal protector and love of her life.
It was then that Talia knew for certain that she was in love with Tucker. She’d suspected it before, but it wasn’t until now, while she was looking at him up there with fresh stitches in his shoulder and that tired look of a man who’d just come back from war that she really, truly knew and accepted it.
“Are you mad?”
“What do you think?” He shot her a look that made her shrink back. Oh yeah, he was mad. “What else did you think I would be, Talia? You used me to spy on the club, on my family. Everything you said and did was a lie.”
“Not everything,” she argued, though her voice was so small, it didn’t stand a chance against his fury.
“No? So when you picked me up in the bar after staking out the club, that wasn’t a lie?”
“You knew that was me the whole time,” she reminded him.
“You didn’t know that I knew. And what about the sex? Were you just taking one for the team on that one? Fuck the scary biker dude and see what kind of intel you can milk from him? Is that it?”
It was scary how fast he’d connected the dots. To be honest, Talia didn’t have a rebuttal. She’d never thought it would come down to this. “Honestly? Yes, that’s how it started,” she admitted.
His teeth gnashed together, his fingers digging into the thin mattress so hard it turned paper-thin. He looked as if he wanted to launch himself at her. Talia prepared for the worst, even though she didn’t want to believe he would hurt her.
“What else did you lie about? Liking my friends? Liking me? You said you wanted a relationship. Was any of that true, or just more lies to further your end game?”
Talia surged forward, wanting to touch him, but the look he sent her held her back. She swallowed thickly. “No, I didn�
��t lie about that. I love your friends. Gabby is great. And you…Everything I said was the truth. How I feel about you, how I feel about us, it was all true.”
For what felt like forever, he just watched her, his silence rocking her worse than his words. “How do I know anything that comes out of your mouth is true?”
“Because you can trust me. I only lied about my job and why I was here, not about who I am or the way I feel. Please, Tuck, you have to believe me.” The sad thing was, she could see that the more she pled her case, the faster she was losing him, and it was breaking her heart.
“You know the worst thing about all of this,” Tucker mused, “is that I actually want to believe you. But then I have to ask myself, when did you plan to tell me who you really are? Did you plan to, or were you just going to get your answers and walk away?”
Talia stared down at the floor, unable to meet his eyes. The guilt was damn near suffocating.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Stepping down onto the floor, he rose up to his full height, leaving the bed behind. Those caramel eyes held hers, hurt and betrayal lending them a sadness she’d never witnessed in them before. A part of her physically ached to know that she was the one to put it there.
“Please,” she begged, “just trust me. I would have—”
“The problem is, Talia,” he cut her off, “once trust is broken, it’s damn near impossible to ever get back.”
“Don’t say that,” she whispered, her voice warbling.
His hand lifted, looking as if it physically pained him to see her breaking down in front of him, but at the very last second, before he touched her, Tucker dropped it back to his side. “Goodbye, sugar.”
Brushing by her, Tucker strode from the room, taking with him every ounce of oxygen in it. She wanted to call out to him, beg him to come back, beg his forgiveness, but she knew none of it would do her any good. Tucker had made up his mind, and she was going to have to find a way to live with that. After all, she’d always known their time together was finite, and like Tucker had said, everything had an expiration.
Vision wavering, Talia’s legs trembled, and she barely made it to the bed in time before she collapsed.
***
“I’ve reviewed your report,” Ingram stated plainly, making it impossible to gauge his mood. He’d been pissed over the amount of casualties, as well as Talia taking the blame for them. She had to. She just couldn’t allow Tucker to go to prison when all he was doing was protecting the people he cared about. Even if that no longer included her.
Sure, he could have claimed self-defense—the evidence was there in spades—but she couldn’t take the risk. He’d done everything in his power to protect her, and so she was doing the same for him. That’s what people who loved each other did for one another, and the drive to continue doing it shouldn’t stop just because they were no longer together.
“I hope you found everything satisfactory,” she replied while battling back her emotions. It’d been one hell of a rough couple of days. “I tried to be as candid as possible, even if that put me in a bad light.”
“Indeed.”
“I think you did the best you could in an impossible situation.” Beside her, Bambi smiled kindly. She’d been an unlikely source of support in all of this, even despite her claims that they would never be friends. Talia didn’t figure they ever really would be, but the woman had been through a lot, so there was no telling what kind of revelations she’d had, if any, in the process.
It was such a relief when Ricky Cruiz’s lair was located, and they recovered the agent. It was a miracle that she’d been in relatively good health. Even better was that they had been able to take several of Cruiz’s top players off the board, including his current girlfriend Jodi, who Talia learned was also the mother of Blake’s son, Ash. What a crazy world she lived in. So many lives interconnected. It was almost soap opera worthy.
Thankfully, Jodi was being arraigned on multiple charges, including human trafficking. With any luck, the judicial system would throw the book at her, and she’d go away for a long time, but word around the office said she was offering to give them whatever they wanted if they’d go easy on her.
Either way, Talia was satisfied. They had a lot of evidence, but a witness with insider knowledge was gold.
Talia smiled her thanks to Bambi and looked away before she ended up lingering too long. It was difficult to look past the bruises and swelling. Since Bambi’s rescue, it’d been a constant mystery and source of curiosity for Talia over her experiences, but beyond her own report which Talia wasn’t privy to, Bambi was keeping a tight lip. She didn’t blame her. Some things were better left unsaid.
“You two have both been through impossible situations,” Ingram allowed. “I’m just glad that you’re both sitting here today able to tell your story. You did good work out there, ladies. Although I would hope that some of us have learned their lesson on the importance of maintaining open lines of communication?”
He said this to Bambi, who nodded abashedly. “Yes, sir.”
“Mmm,” he hummed in what Talia assumed to be reluctant pleasure. At least he wasn’t angry anymore. “And you sure you won’t reconsider your resignation? We could use people like you on our side.”
Bambi was already shaking her head. “It’s not for me anymore. I’ve found where I belong.”
Talia still couldn’t believe that the woman would give up her career to be among the Spartans. Had she heard of having the best of both worlds? In a perfect world, Talia would have exactly that.
With a heavy sigh, Ingram continued. “So be it. I wish you the best. As for you, McKinnon, the department recommends mandatory vacation time until the case can be officially closed, then we’ll talk about reassignment.”
“Sir, what about the trafficking?” Talia spoke up. From where she was sitting, the case was far from being over. They still had so many unanswered questions and stones left unturned. “None of the missing women have been recovered.”
“And they likely won’t be,” was his grim reply. “You knew going into this that the goal was to take down the organizer, not to locate the women. Although that would have been a bonus. The fact is, they’re already lost in the system. We have neither the time nor the man power to invest in tracking them, and even if we did, the chances of actually recovering those women are slim to none.”
She hated that he was right. It disgusted and haunted Talia every second of every day, but what more could she do? From day one, she’d resigned herself to the knowledge that her impact on this case would have hard limits, but in the back of her mind, she’d always hoped for so much more.
“Right, I understand that,” she grumbled, feeling unreasonably upset over something that was entirely out of her control. “I guess I should be thankful that we got what we did out of all of this. I’m especially thankful that Frank came through like he did. We probably wouldn’t be sitting here now if he hadn’t been there to call you guys in. I can’t imagine what that must have looked like, seeing all those men with guns show up like that.”
Ingram’s brows pushed together. “What are you talking about?”
Talia and Bambi shared a look, although Talia was the only one currently swimming in a vat of confusion. “I’m talking about you putting him on surveillance. I admit I wasn’t exactly confident in his abilities at first, but he proved himself in a big way that night. If he hadn’t been watching over me, no one would have known where I was or where to go when the fighting broke out.” Not that the force had arrived in time, playing right into the widely accepted assumption that police were always too little too late to the party. But it’d worked out in the end, thankfully.
With deep grooves wrinkling his forehead, Ingram sat forward in his chair and leaned his arms on the pile of papers spread out across the desk. “McKinnon, Kellerman was relieved of his post two weeks ago after it was determined that he was no longer effective in the field. Among other things, which I am about to say in the strictest of co
nfidence, he is currently under investigation for possible collusion. The team we had on you were the ones who called it in, but in no way, I repeat, in no way did Frank have any part in that.”
“I don’t understand.” And she didn’t, not at all. If Frank hadn’t been part of her team, nor the case, for more than a week, then that meant… “You think he was working with Cruiz? Feeding them information?”
A wall came down over Ingram’s eyes, and he sat back. “I can’t speak on that, but what I can tell you is that there is evidence that someone on the inside of the Spartan Riders was leaking information to Cruiz and his men. Someone who knew an awful lot about them and us, how we operate, our protocols, everything, and knew where to be and when in order to avoid detection.”
Which, when Talia thought about it, made perfect sense. Why else would Blake have gotten that call to pull his men and leave the house empty but for the four of them if not to make it as easy as possible for Cruiz to hit his intended target: Gabby.
“I never liked that man,” she muttered to herself. Now, she knew why.
“That’s why I always say to trust your instincts,” Bambi said, tapping her temple. “I had you pegged, remember.”
Talia pursed her lips. She sure had. If they didn’t have a wedge between them in the form of Tucker, she might learn a thing or two from the woman.
“If we’re done here, I promised the wife I’d make it home on time for dinner tonight, and for once, I plan to keep my word,” Ingram said, breaking the silence. He extended a clipboard to each of them along with a pen. “If you two would sign off on those, I’ll make sure they get to their appropriate places to be filed. Talia, you have two days to clear your things from the apartment. I trust you have other accommodations prepared?”
“I will.” The problem with transferring to another state and city to follow a job opportunity was that Talia hadn’t had the time to find a permanent residence. But like she’d told him, she would. Until then, it looked like Motel Six was going to have a new short-term resident.