The Darkest Knight (The KNIGHT Brothers Book 3)

by Rhonda Lee Carver

  RHONDA LEE CARVER

  THE DARKEST KNIGHT

  (Book 3, The KNIGHT Brothers)

  2017 Rhonda Lee Carver

  Copyright 2017 Rhonda Lee Carver

  All rights reserved

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. NO part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form without permission from the author, Rhonda Lee Carver—except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages written in a review. For information, please contact Rhonda Lee Carver @ rhondaleecarver.author@gmail.com.

  This work is fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue in this work are from the author’s imagination and creation. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, dead or alive, is completely coincidental.

  This book is for your personal pleasure. Ebooks are not transferrable. They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work. If you have enjoyed this book and wish to share with another reader(s) please purchase another copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, purchase a copy. Thank you for appreciating the hard work the author invested into this book.

  Dedication

  Christine Domingue LaCombe, Beverly Blank, Elaine Swinney, Sara Keenan

  What a wonderful group of friends. Thank you for all your support!

  Acknowledgements

  Cover Image: Bigstock

  Edits: Todd Tinker

  A big thank you to all the men and women who have served, or are serving, and to the families of all military.

  “Two flawed souls come together and create one, flowing love that lights a path like none other…”

  Table of Contents

  Front Matter

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Back Matter

  Bonus – Letting Go (Chapter One)

  PROLOGUE

  Seth Knight, also known as Dark Knight, stared through the rain scattered window of the Humvee. He attempted to block out the conversation in the backseat between Lieutenant Scarborough and Sargent Lafferty. They were bickering over which breed of dog was fiercer, Boxers or German Shepherds. Seth used his binoculars to watch the door of the dilapidated building where terrorist, Josef Torsev, was huddled up in hiding. Drones operated by government surveillance agencies had tracked the Syrian guerilla to this location two days ago, and special ops were called in to capture the man who was on the top most-wanted list. The team had Torsev in their sights and they waited patiently for the most favorable moment to move in. One impulsive act, one slip, and things could go downhill fast. The Syrian had slipped through the fingers of several special ops missions, but this was where his luck ended. Seth was certain.

  The clock ticked.

  His thoughts drifted. After this assignment, he planned to visit home, Landing Knight, his own hideaway in the Tennessee hills where he always found solace. When his father passed away, he left Seth two-hundred acres of secluded land set between two mountains. The property was scattered with a handful of cabins that the previous owner had let go and they needed renovated. He’d wanted to fix up the place and the buildings, turning it into a resort again, but when Theodore had died the plans for renovating stopped.

  Seth had been on one mission after another for the last two years, and felt guilty that he hadn’t tried to see his father’s plans take shape.

  He looked forward to seeing his siblings. Years had passed since they’d sat down and spent time catching up. Video chat just wasn’t the same as face-to-face. Hell, things probably wouldn’t be the same when he got back. His sister, Angelina, was recently diagnosed with cancer. He wasn’t an emotional man, but when it came to her and the fucking disease, he felt like a knife had been plunged into his chest. He was a man who could eradicate the enemy, but he couldn’t help his sister.

  Some time with his family would do him good, yet he’d miss his Ranger brothers, ‘Scar’, ‘Laff’, and Hanson, who never talked much. He sat quietly in the driver’s seat thrumming his fingers on the steering wheel. His patience faded. Restless energy could be a bitch. The four of them had been together on so many covert missions that Seth had lost count. They’d saved each other’s back. Been there on the close calls. He owed his life to each of them.

  The door of the ransacked building opened and Seth kept the binoculars on mark, watching for any movement. Two men stepped out, their heads were wrapped in keffiyeh headdress and they both wore traditional kaftans, but the red bands tied around their wrists exposed their identity as Torsev’s men. “Looks like we have movement, boys. We take them down and find our target, dead or alive. Got it?”

  Responses were heard in unison from the three soldiers.

  A tense silence fell over them as they waited for Seth’s command. Known for his level-headedness and skill at getting in and out without anyone being the wiser made him one of the most used and dangerous operatives in the Rangers. No soldier had to wonder if ‘Dark Knight’ would get them out alive. He never left a man behind. Ever.

  He was calm and collected. There was always an adrenaline rush before they moved out, but he’d learned how to control his breathing, heart rate and thinking. Many people accused him of not having emotions because he’d gotten so good at not showing his thoughts or feelings.

  Something unexpected happened…

  A tall wiry man stepped from the open doorway, joining the others. The long, peppered hair hanging down from his headdress nearly reached his waist. This, along with his braided beard and the red bands were identifiers of Torsev.

  “What the fuck?” Seth muttered.

  “Problem, Lieutenant?”

  “Slight change of plans, boys. It appears our target is on the move.”

  “Shit!” Scar muttered. “He knows we’re here. He has plans to scoot again.”

  Seth knew the risks, but he stayed on point.

  “We have a visual. We still take him down.” Seth dropped the binoculars. “Move out.”

  They each had been briefed on their role in today’s mission. They were experienced and trained in capturing some of the most dangerous criminals in the world. Torsev was a danger to everyone in his path, including his own people. He’d killed thousands through his evil acts, but his time was quickly coming to an end. For months now his followers were in disarray and disorganized…fleeing or dead. For the last week, American troops pounded the surrounding Syrian cities, helping to bring peace.

  If all went without a hitch, Seth would be on a plane back to the States by midnight.

  They filed out of the Humvee, rifles in hand, taking their positions along an adjacent abandoned building close to their target’s location.

  He motioned for Laff to take cover behind a partially broken wall, while pointing Hanson toward a spot behind a rusted-out vehicle. Seth crouched low, slowly moving closer to his target, undetected by the threesome who were leaning in, talking in rushed, excited words.

  Using his binoculars, he focused on Torsev. Were the men arguing?

  With his binoculars, he searched the man’s face. Something wasn’t right. Then it struck Seth that this man didn’t have the
small triangle tattoo on his forehead.

  Lifting a hand to signal for Hanson, Seth paused as the sun’s bright rays glinted off something from three buildings down. His full attention was on the rooftop. He tried to get a better look, but saw nothing. Yet, something pinged in his gut that he couldn’t shake. Lifting his M4 rifle, he set his sights on the spot where he’d seen the reflection and waited…his finger steady on the trigger.

  And then he spotted the rifle aimed straight for Scar.

  Fuck!

  Seth pressed the button on his hand-held radio. “Enemy spotted. No go. I repeat, no go. Back the fuck up!”

  He wanted to shift his body to watch his men, but he was taught to stay on track, no matter how serious the situation. He could only hope his unit had pulled back.

  The shooter on the rooftop moved, but Seth didn’t have a clear shot. His breath seemed loud in his ears, the beating of his heart pounded his chest, reminding him of the dull thuds of explosions in the distance. He had to take the adversary out.

  Known for his steady hand and sharp shooting skills, he slowed his breathing as he evaluated the variables of wind speed, wind direction, and temperature, that determined the accuracy of the shot. He had one chance.

  Then he had the shot.

  He pulled the assault weapon’s trigger and watched the vapor trail, a second later the rooftop sniper’s head split and blood splattered. He was dead on impact.

  All hell broke loose…

  Enemy fire buzzed over his head as he dropped to his stomach. He slowly shifted, finding the source of the shots and took out another shooter. He registered men yelling, but he didn’t have time to dissect where, or who, it was coming from.

  He crawled on his elbows to get a better look around him. Smoke puffed up in thick clouds, making it hard for Seth to see anything beyond ten feet. Finally, the fog dissipated enough that he could get a visual, but the three men were gone.

  The sounds of yelling echoed throughout the quiet streets of the abandoned city, and the target was getting away.

  Seth scanned the crumbled buildings and shadowed corners, feeling his heart racing in his chest, then saw a silhouette in the distance coming toward the chaos. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. A woman wearing a long, white robe ambled up the street, a bundle of blankets in her arms. As she drew closer, he could see she carried what appeared to be a baby.

  Seth gritted his teeth.

  Hanson met Seth’s gaze in question across the crumbled concrete.

  Torsev’s men rushed from the building, guns in hand, shooting a wave of bullets through the courtyard, including hitting the woman who was thrown onto her back. Seth could see the large patch of red puddling around her. The bundle slipped out of her arms and tumbled to the ground.

  Rising to his feet, he raced to the baby, knowing his men had his back.

  He wasn’t sure if he heard the explosion or saw material flying first, but that was the day that changed his life forever.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Seth shot up from his bed, looking for the shooter.

  He realized almost immediately it was just another bad dream. One of a long list of many he’d had over the last year. Sweat beaded his body and he grabbed the towel that he’d dropped on the floor after his shower last night, wiping away the moisture. He pushed out of bed, pulled on a clean pair of jeans and left his bedroom. He went straight to his laptop, opened the lid and turned it on. A pain shot through his bicep, an old wound that brought back painful memories of that fateful day in Syria when he’d not only been struck with shrapnel from the bomb, but he’d loss of three of his men, his brothers of honor, to a filthy terrorist.

  The only reprieve was knowing that the bastard Torsev was dead, too, from one bullet to the head from Seth’s rifle.

  Seth had thought he’d die too, even though he’d called for a “Dust off”. He woke up a day later in the hospital after the medivac helicopter and trained personnel saved his life.

  What followed was an investigation into the bombing and where the failure had occurred. Later it was proven that Seth was innocent of the disaster in Syria, and he’d been given a medal of honor for taking down Torsev. He hadn’t felt much like a hero.

  Free from his duties as a Ranger, he came home, but nothing felt or seemed the same. He had his fair share of demons that were resistant to any influence.

  He stared at the computer screen, opened his emails and scrolled through the top five that were from his brothers, Declan and Victor. Family business needed handled and Seth hadn’t been as prompt as he should be. He’d excused himself from the millionaire elbow rubbing years ago, but they still kept him in the business loop for ‘just-in-case’ purposes. Making a mental note to Facetime them later, he flagged the emails and moved on.

  The next email was from Reese Shane with the word URGENT written in the subject line. He growled and closed the lid to the laptop. He’d never met the woman, but she’d made herself known through a dozen phone calls and messages. Sure, he respected the fact that she was helping veterans who’d suffered head trauma, but he wasn’t the man to be her sidekick. The woman had even suggested that his sister, Angelina, had promised financial backing for the project. What kind of person uses a late woman’s name to earn sympathy? A con, that’s who.

  He couldn’t count how many times he’d been asked for money. Hell, all his brothers were hit up for investment adventures, the newest gadgets and tools, or the next big thing.

  Seth guessed this was the price for being a millionaire. A target for every inventor, scam artist, and greedy soul. Here lately, since he’d holed himself up at Landing Knight and had dropped off the face of the earth, he was left alone—except for this Shane chic who could easily be described as persistent. She could keep up the communication and he’d continue to ignore her. He wasn’t planning on coming out of hiding any time soon. He liked his privacy.

  Even as a kid, Seth never enjoyed the spotlight. While most of his brothers decided to follow in the footsteps of their father and run the Knight Corporations, Seth had gone the opposite direction. He’d joined the Army Rangers. Military had been his life, his love, until…

  And now here he was, sitting smack dab on a property worth millions, that was if he made the necessary renovations and set a plan into forward motion. He had twelve cabins, not including his, scattered on the prime location with a sinful view. He’d been hounded by his brothers to do something, anything, with the place. Even sell it. They saw things from a business perspective. He saw Landing Knight as his haven. No way in hell would he get rid of it. Yet he needed to start thinking long and hard on what he would do to make the place a working property again.

  For now, he put his thoughts on the back-burner, went into the bathroom and flipped on the light. The modern space seemed out of place here in his hideaway, especially for someone who didn’t care about granite counters and an Italian tiled shower—or wherever the tiles were exported from. Angelina had wanted to surprise him and had redone the entire cabin, that once didn’t even have running water, making it look more like a luxurious getaway instead of a bachelor’s kickback. He appreciated her consideration, but he was a simple man and didn’t need much.

  Staring at his reflection in the mirror above the sink, he squinted. As polished as his cabin was, it certainly wasn’t rubbing off on him. He’d sort of allowed things to get out of hand in regard to his appearance. He’d gone from a man who’d always worn his hair in a buzz cut to a shaggy mass that touched his collar. His beard was a bit too thick too. He reminded himself of a caveman.

  He laughed and considered shaving.

  A hundred shaves and haircuts wouldn’t change the scars on his body that were a constant reminder of the explosion and death.

  His smile faded as a sharp, invisible blade struck him in the chest. He wouldn’t allow his mind to travel down the past, not right now.

  Three beeps sounded from his laptop, alerting him that he had company. Back in the kitchen, he opened the lid, c
licked on the camera icon and six view boxes popped up on the screen. He’d installed the security cameras at strategic locations on the property when he moved here. Some might see it as overkill, but he needed to know what was going on around him. The detectors sounded, warning him that the car had passed the halfway point onto the property. Many cars used his driveway to turn around because Landing Knight sat on a dead-end country road, but this wasn’t the case. This car—a cab to be more exact—continued on the narrow lane scattered with ‘no trespassing signs’. The vehicle parked in front of his cabin and he could see the driver—a white male, about two-hundred pounds, wearing a red baseball cap and a black shirt with a pocket.

  Seth’s two-year-old Boxer growled and popped his ears up from his favorite spot in front of the fireplace. “Calm down, Spike. No need to bare your teeth yet, boy.” As if he understood, he relaxed his chin on his paws and snorted.

  Seth wasn’t expecting anyone. Watching the different camera angles, the back door to the cab opened and a brunette stepped out. His curiosity spiked. He couldn’t remember the last time a woman visited him. He riddled his brain, filing through his memories. Did he know her?

  Her hair was piled into a bun with tendrils of hair floating around her cheeks. He guessed she was about five-five and in her late twenties or early thirties, yet he’d never been good at estimating a woman’s age. The camera shot was too grainy for him to see the color of her eyes, but he got a good shot of her face. No, he didn’t recognize her.

  She bent over to retrieve something from the backseat and, although a bit insolent of him, he took a leisure stroll over her slightly arched back to the full rounded curve of her bottom in the skinny jeans, down the long line of her legs all the way to the black flats. No, he still didn’t recognize her, and with a shape like hers, he had no doubt he’d recall if he’d met her.