The soft loving words didn’t come as before, nor did the tender kisses on her head. Silly, but that made her cry all the harder. Someone had taken a wonderfully caring, loving man and replaced him with this damaged, injured, hollowed-out person. She wanted to howl in grief, roar in pain. And she wanted to make them pay.
Pulling in an exhausted but much calmer breath, she pressed a kiss to his beard-stubbled cheek. “Thank you.”
“Get some sleep.” His gruff voice rumbled, the vibration beneath her cheek a comforting and familiar memory.
Sabrina closed her eyes and let herself drift away.
Declan closed his eyes, this time to fight his own tears. This was a memory he hadn’t allowed himself to have. Sabrina was one of the strongest people he knew. She’d endured a hellish childhood and had escaped that hell only to be imprisoned in a mental institution. When she’d come to EDJE as a new recruit, he had watched her develop into the savviest and most dedicated operative in the Agency.
He had been her trainer. Seeing her potential and raw talent, he had been tougher on her than most new recruits. He had known her background and had done everything within his power to break her. Not because he didn’t want her to succeed. He had put her through the tough training for one reason only—if she could survive what he did to her, no one could bring her down.
During that grueling, intense training, not once had she shown any emotion other than fury and anger with him. She had fought him, snapped at him, and cursed him, but never had she shown the hurt she should have felt. So he had continued to push hard, and then harder still.
One day after a particularly difficult session, he noticed she’d left her gun behind. At first, he’d been infuriated at her unprofessionalism. He’d gone to her room, ready to rail at her for being so careless. And then everything had changed. Instead of the tough-as-nails trainee who fought and spit at him with every breath, he’d found a fragile, sobbing woman in the shower.
Declan had wanted to pick her up and comfort her, believing he had finally broken her. Instead, he’d stepped back into her room, and when she’d come out of the bathroom, he’d been in the process of cleaning her gun.
At first, she’d looked both startled and worried, but he’d just started talking to her, telling her about his family and his reasons for joining the Agency. He hadn’t really meant to tell her anything so personal, but she’d looked so lost and empty, and he had wanted to share something of himself.
He had left her with a soft but stern warning that if she ever left her gun behind again, there would be consequences. He hadn’t really known what he meant by that, mostly because he had assumed that he had broken her and she would quit. Once again, she had surprised him and returned to training the next day as if nothing had happened. He’d been even tougher on her that day, certain that she was on the edge, about to snap. Certain that she wouldn’t be able to handle all the shit he threw at her. She had proved him wrong.
After that training session, he’d again gone to her room, telling himself he was going to talk some sense into her. Once again, he found her in the shower. This time, he had broken all the rules, picked her up, held her, comforted her till she fell asleep. The same ritual went on for over a week until he finally got it through his thick skull. Sabrina could endure anything and everything that came at her, but she needed the catharsis of tears to survive. Some people drink, some take up other unhealthy vices. Tears were Sabrina’s escape.
When that realization came, he had known he was falling in love with her. Declan had never believed in a happy ever after, but Sabrina, strong, independent, tempestuous, and vulnerable, had made him a believer.
But it had all been a lie.
Sabrina pulled a tray of biscuits from the oven and set it on the stove. She wasn’t much of a domestic goddess, but having been responsible for all her family’s cooking and cleaning from the time she was strong enough to open the oven door, she knew her way around the kitchen well enough to cook up a decent meal. When she and Declan had been together, they’d traveled so much that when they’d had the chance to be home together, cooking had not been one of her priorities.
Since coming back to the States, she’d found herself enjoying playing house. LCR provided her with an excellent salary, so instead of renting an apartment like most of the other operatives, she’d opted for a house in a small rural area on the other side of Remington. It was a kindness to call it a fixer-upper. Every spare moment she had outside work, she spent inside the house. She would probably be old and gray before she had it exactly as she wanted, but it was home. Sabrina hadn’t realized just how much she had missed having one.
If Declan hadn’t been taken from her. If things had worked out and he had left the Agency as he’d told her he wanted, what would life have looked like now? He could have had a vegetable garden in the backyard the way he said his father had when he was growing up. And when she came home from an op, she could have played around in the kitchen. Maybe had a couple of fur-kids at her feet.
This morning she had woken in his arms. Had lain quietly, not wanting to disturb him, and had listened to him breathe, relished his warmth, the beat of his heart. Treasures she’d thought lost to her forever.
Her movements methodical and practiced, she cracked eggs into the skillet, stirred the fried potatoes, double-checked the bacon in the microwave. Declan liked his bacon crisp.
She wanted to please him, make him smile. Let him know in every way possible that she was happy he was alive. Yes, his harsh words yesterday had wounded her to the core, but she couldn’t blame him. Based upon Dr. Lamar’s observations, Declan had endured torture most people wouldn’t have survived. His distrust of people, including her, was understandable. That didn’t mean she intended to let him continue that distrust. She hadn’t betrayed him. And today, no matter how he put her off, she was going to find out why the hell he believed that lie.
Last night, his tenderness toward her was the old Declan. He might believe he had completely changed, but she knew different. The man she adored was still in there somewhere.
“Smells good.”
She whirled around, startled. Declan had always had a cat-like quietness. Standing only a few feet from her, his hair still damp from the shower and the growth on his face even scruffier than yesterday, he was heart-wrenchingly beautiful. She’d always thought he had the face of a poet. His features angular, with a broad forehead, blade of a nose, and classically high cheekbones, he could have made millions as a model.
Pushing aside the sudden breathlessness, she offered him her best bland smile. “Hope you’re hungry.”
Ocean-blue eyes scanned the kitchen. “Surprisingly, I’m famished.”
“Excellent.” She nodded at the kitchen table she’d already set with china and flatware. “Have a seat. I’ll have everything ready in a jiffy.”
The old Declan would have hauled her into his arms for a hot, hungry kiss and then snagged a biscuit before sitting. Making it clear that the old Declan was gone, he pulled out a chair at the table and sat.
Sabrina returned to her task. Flipping three over-easy eggs onto his plate, she added four slices of bacon and a large serving of potatoes. Slathering three steaming biscuits with butter, she added them to the overflowing plate. Making a smaller one for herself, she turned to carry both plates to the table. And stumbled to a stop. Declan was sitting at the table, calmly holding her SIG Sauer in his hand, pointing directly at her.
Okay. Not exactly the way she preferred to eat her breakfast, but she went with it. Placing his plate on the table before him, she sat down and turned her eyes to the gun. “Looks like you’ve been snooping.”
“Found it in the safe.”
“A locked, hidden safe.”
His eyes mocked her. “Did you really think you could hide anything from me?”
“I wasn’t hiding it from you. It was habit, nothing more.”
“You could be right. Using our wedding date for the code was kind of lame.”
> Sabrina huffed out an exasperated breath. “Are we going to snipe at each other or actually get something accomplished today?”
He placed the gun beside his plate. “You’re right. I will, however, hold on to the gun for the time being.”
Shrugging as if she could care less what he did, Sabrina forced herself to eat. Though her appetite was now nonexistent, she refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing he’d ruined what she had been looking forward to—breakfast with her husband. Only, he wasn’t really her husband anymore, was he? A signature on a marriage license didn’t make a marriage. She needed to stop thinking of him as anything other than a wary and distrusting acquaintance. An acquaintance that she happened to be married to.
She dared a quick glance at him and was pleased to see that he’d eaten all but half a biscuit. Silly, but she felt a moment of pride, as if she’d accomplished something major. They might still have a mountain of problems to chisel out, but her success at taking care of him in this elemental way felt like progress.
Leaning back in her chair, she held up her coffee cup. “Want a refill before we get started?”
“Started on what?”
“Going over the events of that day.”
“What good will that do?”
“Do you not want to find out who did this to you…to us?”
“What makes you think I’m going to believe anything you say, Sabrina?”
“What do you want me to do, Declan? Take a polygraph? What happened to the trust part of our marriage vows? Or was that just for my benefit, not yours?”
Cold eyes continued to stare at her. She saw nothing of the compassionate man from last night. This was the man who’d faced terrorists without flinching and the man who’d faced his own torturers and survived.
“Okay. Fine. I know you think I set you up. I’ve already told you I didn’t, but you say I’m lying. So let’s start with you telling me exactly how you believe I betrayed you.”
The blank, emotionless stare gave her his answer. Dammit! Sabrina surged to her feet. Declan went for the gun in front of him.
Agony slashed through her, the pain so real that he could have shot her and she swore it would have hurt less. Her heart shattering, Sabrina jerked her head at the gun. “Do it, damn you. If you don’t believe me. If you really think I could do something like that, then do it.”
“If I’d wanted to kill you that quickly, I would’ve done it at the cabin.”
“Fine. Shoot me in every extremity. Make me bleed. Torture me. Make me tell you the truth. If you really believe I could betray you, the man I swore to love and honor for the rest of my life, then damn you, pull the trigger and force me to tell you the truth. The truth I’m telling you right now.” Her voice trembled with rage as she ground out between clenched teeth, “I. Did. Not. Betray. You.”
His grip was so tight on the handle, his fingers turned white with the strain. Sabrina braced herself. She was taking a big chance that he wouldn’t do it. Somewhere inside this damaged man was her husband, the man she had once trusted more than anyone else in the world.
Minutes passed. Sabrina stayed frozen, barely breathing. The war of emotions on his face would have been fascinating if she had been completely sure he wasn’t going to kill her.
At last…finally, he calmly placed the gun on the table and went to his feet. Sabrina forced herself to remain still. Just because he had decided not to kill her didn’t mean he believed her. Without a word, he headed to the door leading outside.
“Where are you going?”
“To DC,” he growled.
“Why?”
“To get some answers.”
She swayed in relief, tears springing to her eyes before she could stop them. Forcing them back, she breathed out shakily, “Let’s work together. Please, Declan.”
He turned back to her then, and she was disappointed that the distrust in his eyes remained unchanged. He may not hate her enough to kill her, but he still didn’t believe her.
“I work alone.” He turned back to the door and walked out.
Chapter Eleven
LCR Headquarters
Noah waited patiently as his operative reviewed the notes he’d made on the Tyndall case. Cole Mathison was a thorough researcher and would want to internalize the smallest of facts before he gave his opinion.
Last Chance Rescue had more than one hundred fifty active operatives, along with ten on the Elite team, each operative as individual as the background that led them to LCR. One of the many things he liked about his people was their diverse approach to an investigation. And something they all had in common was their belief in rescuing the innocent. Noah had endeavored to make that philosophy his life’s goal and never regretted it for a second.
Cole looked up from the file in his hand. “Have you talked to Mrs. Tyndall about this?”
“No. I didn’t want to get her hopes up.”
“And this Declan Steele, you don’t think he could be of any help?”
“Actually, I think he would be very valuable. I just don’t think he’s going to be in the right frame of mind to cooperate.”
A glower replaced Cole’s calm expression. “Not even to save a life?”
“If there’s anyone who might be able to change his mind, it’s you.”
“You mean because of what Rosemount did to me?”
“Yes. I don’t know what was done to Steele, but the briefing I received from Dr. Lamar leads me to believe that he was probably tortured daily.”
Cole grunted his sympathy.
“You want to take a crack at him? If so, I’ll give Sabrina a call and have her bring him over.”
Before Mathison could answer, Sabrina said from the doorway, “Don’t bother calling. And Declan won’t help.”
The deep sorrow in her eyes told the story. She hadn’t been able to change her husband’s mind.
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
She came into the office, gave Cole a tired smile of greeting and then dropped into a chair beside him. “He’s gone again. Said he was going in to DC to get some answers.”
“Then we’ll do the job without him.” Noah looked at Mathison again. “I can have Thorne, Ingram, and Kelly here in less than an hour. Angela and Jake Mallory in less time than that. Who else do you want?”
“I want in,” Sabrina said.
Noah studied her for a few seconds. She’d been through a lot the past few days. “You’re sure?”
“Absolutely. It’ll keep my mind off slamming my husband’s head into a brick wall and knocking some sense into him.”
“It’s already been done,” Declan said from the doorway. “Several times. None of them had the desired outcome.”
Sabrina’s head whipped around so fast Declan knew he’d surprised the hell out of her. He also saw the relief in her eyes.
“I thought you were going to DC,” Sabrina said.
“Hard to get anywhere around here without money.”
Temper replaced the relief in her eyes. “I can give you money for the bus and the Metro or I can get you a car. In fact, I’ll even find a way to get you on a helicopter to get you there faster.”
A smile threatened at his lips—the first time he’d even felt like smiling since the day he was captured. Sabrina in a snit had always affected him in some way. Either she pissed him off, turned him on, or made him laugh.
Before he could respond, a tall man about Declan’s height, stood and gave him a solemn nod in greeting. “Steele, I’m Cole Mathison. I’d like to talk with you, alone, if I could.”
“About Barry Tyndall?”
“Among other things.” Mathison looked down at his watch. “I missed breakfast and have a hole the size of the federal deficit in my stomach. Let’s grab some lunch.”
Instead of waiting on Declan’s agreement, Mathison glanced over at Sabrina. “I’ll return him in a couple of hours in case you’re still interested in banging his head against a wall.”
A smile lit up her face.
“Thanks. That’ll give me time to find a wall sturdy enough to take the blow from his hard head.”
Mesmerized by that smile, Declan barely registered the insult.
Mathison stood beside him. “You feeling okay?”
“Yeah.” Declan shook himself out of his stupor. Getting sidetracked by his wife’s smile was about as asinine as he could get. Pissed that he could be so easily swayed, he gave her a cold look and walked out of the room.
The popular chain restaurant was busy with the lunchtime crowd. Declan sat across the table from Mathison and unwrapped his burrito. They’d gotten a table in a back corner, but the place was still noisy. Interesting that Mathison would choose a crowded, family-oriented place to discuss an LCR rescue mission.
Mathison’s grin told him he’d read Declan’s thoughts. “This is my kids’ favorite restaurant. I’m missing them like hell and automatically came here for the comfort. Hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all. How many kids do you have?”
“Three. Twin girls that are nine going on thirty and a one-year-old son.”
“You live close by?”
“No. Upper East Tennessee. LCR’s got a branch office there. My wife, Keeley, and I own a farmhouse outside Kingston, Tennessee, that we share with every animal known to North America. Both my daughters have decided they’re going to be veterinarians, and it’s their responsibility to save as many animals as possible. Keeley is almost as bad.”
It wasn’t any of his business, but he couldn’t help but ask. “So how do you maintain what sounds like a normal home life while being an LCR operative?”
“Takes work, I won’t deny that. But Keeley and I knew what we wanted. We love each other enough to make it work.”
Declan knew a rare moment of regret. Would that have made a difference? Would Sabrina not have betrayed him if they’d had a more normal marriage? Was that what she had been missing? Some kind of normalcy? She’d gone from a destructive family life to a mental institution and then had become an assassin. Hell, was it any wonder she didn’t know the meaning of loyalty and love?
Running On Empty: An LCR Elite Novel Page 11
