Running On Empty: An LCR Elite Novel

by Christy Reece

  “Oh, for the love of all that’s good and holy, would you just give it a rest?”

  She glared across at Aidan. “It’s my fault. If I—”

  “No, it’s not your fault. It’s mostly the fault of the prick who shot him, and some of it is this asshole’s fault for getting shot in the first place.”

  “How can you say that? If not for me, he wouldn’t even be on this mission. He’d—”

  “If it wasn’t for you, he never would’ve had a chance to find one of the men who tortured him.”

  “Yes, and I killed him. He could’ve told Declan who betrayed him. But no, I had to go in like Wyatt Kidd and blast him to hell.”

  “Wyatt who?”

  “You know.” She waved a hand. “That gunfighter.”

  “Wyatt Earp was a sheriff. Billy the Kid was an outlaw.”

  “Whatever.” She shrugged, infuriated with herself and with Aidan, who should have shared her fury. “The thing is, if not for me, he wouldn’t be in this predicament.” She was getting ready for another dose of guilt when a fist slammed into her face.

  “Son of a bitch,” Sabrina snapped.

  Aidan grabbed the fist that Declan had swung and held him down. When he glanced at Sabrina again, he didn’t even bother to hide his amusement. “While I don’t endorse hitting a woman unless she’s threatening me or mine, I do hope that knocked some sense into you.”

  A one-eyed glare didn’t have as much impact, but she gave her partner one anyway. The delirious man on the ground had no idea what he had done. They’d cleaned and bandaged the wounds on his arm and thigh, given him an antibiotic and mild sedative for pain. His temp was slightly over one hundred two, and they’d taken turns bathing him with their limited supply of bottled water. And now they could do nothing but wait. They were at least one day’s hard travel to the nearest village.

  Glad to see that Declan’s movements had stilled and he seemed to be resting easier, Sabrina leaned back against a tree. Aidan sat on the other side of her and took a long swallow of water from his canteen. “So. Before I decide I completely hate this shithead you married and are obviously still crazy about, tell me what he was like before.”

  She knew why he was asking. When she had taken Declan’s shirt off to treat his wound, her partner had seen the scars. And for the first time Sabrina had seen the ones on his chest and stomach. How had he survived? The irrefutable evidence that Declan had gone through the horrors of hell reinforced her opinion once again of his strength and courage.

  Aidan’s statement indicated he, having seen the damage, was willing to give Declan another chance.

  “He’d been with EDJE several years before I met him. Grew up in Scotland. Started with the Agency in his early twenties.”

  “Scotland? Really? Where’s that Scottish brogue all the girls go crazy over?”

  Surprised she still had an ounce of amusement in her, Sabrina laughed softly. “When he wants, he can definitely bring it out.” Unbelievably, she found herself blushing. How many times had Declan whispered to her in that beautiful accent while making love to her?

  Hoping Aidan hadn’t seen her embarrassment, she went on, “Anyway, when I met him, I was greener than a new apple. Had assisted on a few ops, mostly by gathering intel. Was still attending classes. Still had no idea what I’d gotten myself into. Thought I’d already seen everything I needed to see.” She shrugged. “Believe it or not, I was slightly cocky.”

  “You?” Aidan’s eyes widened in mock disbelief. “Never.”

  She grinned and continued. “One day I barged in on a meeting between Albert Marks, the head of the Agency, and Declan. Even that early, I was looking at Albert as family. He’d saved me from…” She swallowed. “Let’s just say I didn’t have a very good life before I went to the Agency. I’d been there just long enough to feel like I finally had a family, but still had a chip on my shoulder the size of France.

  “The first time I saw Declan, I just knew he had to be some kind of a model.” She snorted as she remembered her naïveté and stupidity. “Like a secret government agency was going to do recruiting posters. But he was just so gorgeous. Like James Bond and Jason Bourne wrapped up in the most delectable—”

  Aidan gave an overloud clearing of his throat.

  She threw him an embarrassed grin. “Sorry. Anyway, he fascinated me from the start. Albert introduced me to him. Told me he was going to be my new trainer.”

  Declan had been rough on her…ruthlessly mean to the point of cruelty. She had gone back to her room almost every night and cried. She’d never intended to let him see what he did to her. And each time she had gone back with the same cocky attitude as the day before. He’d done his best to destroy her, and she had refused to let him.

  “We worked a couple of ops together in the middle of my training. During those missions, he treated me as an equal. I guess I expected that to continue, but when we got back to training, he was just as mean, maybe even meaner. This went on for close to a year. I’d go off on an op, come back for more training, and he’d treat me like shit. I’d give it right back to him.”

  “What changed?”

  “I’d walked out the door in a temper and left my weapon. Stupid. I knew from the first day that you never leave your weapon behind. That it was an extension of me. But he had me so frazzled that day I forgot. He came to my room with it, ready to ream me out. I didn’t answer the door, and being the arrogant asshole that he was, he came inside. Heard me having my nightly meltdown in the shower.”

  He had talked with her as an equal, told her about himself, his family.

  “And from that moment things were better?”

  She snorted. “Are you kidding me? The next day he was tougher than ever.” But it had changed her. She had reveled in that toughness, determined to learn all she could and be the best she could be.

  She didn’t tell Aidan about the other nights he had found her in the shower, picked her up, and just held her while she let all the pain and fury of that day drain from her. Those moments were between her and Declan, precious memories she would hold in her heart forever, no matter what happened in the future.

  “When did you guys start your relationship?”

  “About a year later, we were on an op together. My first kill. I lost it and almost got myself killed instead. I did the job, but it wasn’t pretty or neat. I figured he was going to rail at me and then fire me. Or call Uncle Al and have him take me away. Instead, he told me about his first op, about how messy it was.”

  She swallowed and remembered how he had held her, comforting her as only Declan could.

  “We worked almost every op together after that.”

  “And he was good to you?”

  Her voice was husky and thick. “In a word—amazing. He knew me better than anyone. Treated me like I was precious…valuable.” She lifted her shoulder, unable to articulate how wonderful he had been to her. “Like I said, I didn’t have the best home life. I’d never been treated as if I was something special.”

  “If you were such a good team, why’d you leave the Agency?”

  It wasn’t something she talked about a lot. A part of her was embarrassed about the weakness. Another part was glad she was human enough to care. “Killing became my job. That wasn’t their initial plan for me, but when they saw how good I could be, I got called in to do the deed. Up close and personal was my specialty.

  “But then it became too much. It was like a piece of my soul left me with each kill. I knew I was saving lives. The people I took out were scum, had murdered, kidnapped, tortured. Done all manner of unspeakable things, so it wasn’t as if I thought I was doing wrong. I knew I was in the right. I just…” She trailed off. Hard to articulate something she’d felt so conflicted about.

  “You wanted to feel clean.”

  Her head jerked up at Aidan’s bald statement and amazing insight. “That’s exactly how I felt. How did you know?”

  “Just a guess.”

  Her eyes narrowed in an
accusing glare. “You know, Mr. Thorne, at some point you’re going to have to reciprocate. You jumped down my throat for not telling you about Declan, but you’ve got more than your share of secrets. Someday you’re going to have to spill.”

  “But not today.”

  He said it with such grim determination that Sabrina didn’t push. “But not today,” she agreed.

  “So you came to LCR for a change of pace?”

  She laughed. “The pace is about the same, sometimes a little faster, but the high of saving lives…being right in the thick of the action and actually seeing the difference I’ve made…”

  “Nothing like it,” Aidan said softly.

  “Nothing.”

  “Why LCR, though? There are lots of rescue organizations.”

  “An LCR operative—can’t say who—is a former EDJE agent. Declan contacted him. After I talked with him, he arranged for a meeting with Noah.”

  “Steele wanted you out?”

  “He wanted me out of the killing business. He saw what it was doing to me.”

  “So those words he threw at you the other day…that you were nothing but a killer.” Aidan shook his head. “Bastard knows where to stick the knife, doesn’t he?”

  A lump developed in her throat. Those words still stung.

  Apparently not expecting a response, Aidan went on, “I’m surprised Steele didn’t come to LCR with you.”

  “Declan was too valuable.”

  “You think that’s why he was taken?”

  “Yes, no doubt. But—”

  “But?”

  “I still have no idea what they wanted from him. He’s been so busy blaming me and not trusting anyone, he won’t tell me a damned thing. How the hell is he ever going to find the truth if he doesn’t trust anyone enough to help him find it?”

  “What was his role at EDJE, other than trainer?”

  Her gaze dropped to the man lying on the ground before her. Unable to stop herself, she tenderly brushed a strand of hair off his forehead and was pleased to note his skin was much cooler. “He was a field agent, but he had responsibilities even I wasn’t allowed to know.” She swallowed hard. “And unless I earn his trust again, prove to him that I had nothing to do with his abduction, I might never know why he was taken.”

  Instead of giving her trite reassurances, Aidan said, “Guess we’d better get some rest. If he’s not better tomorrow, I’ll head out on my own and bring help back.”

  Because she could and Declan would never know, Sabrina stretched out on the ground beside her husband and placed her head on his uninjured shoulder. Many nights she had gone to sleep exactly like this, but with one marked difference. Declan had been holding her. Would she ever feel his arms around her again?

  She fell asleep with an ache in her heart.

  “You stupid son of a bitch. You think anyone’s going to save you? Hell, your so-called brothers-in-arms are the ones who sold you out. You’ve been abandoned. No one’s looking for you. No one cares about you.”

  Meat-Face loomed over him—so close Declan could see the large pores in his florid face, smell the onions he’d had with his breakfast. “Your ass is mine, Steele, and I’m going to smash it into the dirt.”

  Declan kept his gaze steady, his face expressionless. They couldn’t break him. He had been tortured by the best for months on end. The training he had endured had put him through almost every imaginable scenario. No matter what they did to him, they would never break him.

  Agony erupted in his head. His entire body felt as though they were burning him alive. Breathe through the pain, inhale, exhale, inhale. You’re bigger than what they can do to you. Float out of your body, away…far away. See her beautiful face…know she’s waiting on you. You can survive anything knowing Sabrina loves you.

  Peace enveloped him. He was floating. There was pain, but it was distant, inconsequential. Then he heard her voice, soft, rich, thick with emotion, “Tell them, Declan. Tell them what they want to know and you can come back to me. Tell them and we’ll be with each other again. Tell them, tell them…”

  Declan shook his head. No, couldn’t be Sabrina. She would never want him to give in. She would tell him to fight. It was a trick. They were using his one weakness to try to break him. They would never succeed.

  Pain sliced through him again. Sabrina’s voice followed. Then more pain, Sabrina’s voice again. Over and over. Stop, stop, stop. Stop!

  Sabrina mopped Declan’s brow again. His fever had risen. Aidan had left just after dawn to go get help. Waiting around for Declan to be able to travel could take days or might not happen at all. The bullet wound in his arm was just a flesh wound and was healing quickly. It was the deep gash in his thigh that was worrisome and most likely the cause of the fever raging inside his body.

  He had been in and out of consciousness since he’d passed out two days ago. When he was conscious, he was lucid, asking direct questions and responding to her queries with clear, concise answers. His attitude was unfailingly polite, cool, letting her know he still believed she was the enemy.

  And when he was unconscious, he slept like the dead, never moving. She checked his pulse repeatedly just to reassure herself. The strong, solid rhythm never failed to give her immeasurable relief.

  But in between consciousness and sleep, there were moments of sheer terror for her. He screamed, shouted, and muttered, and she knew he was reliving what those bastards had done to him. She despised hearing it, but at least she had some idea of why he believed she had betrayed him. They had used her against him. They may not have succeeded in getting the information they wanted—whatever it had been—but they had succeeded in one thing—convincing Declan of her guilt.

  A normal man would have broken, even an extraordinarily strong man might have broken. But Declan hadn’t, at least not in the way his captors had wanted. But they had broken the bond between husband and wife, destroying trust.

  She wished knowing the truth made it easier. She had thought it would. It didn’t. She didn’t know how to reach the core of his distrust and destroy it. How do you defend when there’s nothing to defend?

  “Look very serious.”

  Declan’s slurred, gruff voice broke into her thoughts. She took in his eyes, saw the clarity and reason, and was relieved.

  “With good reason. You have two bullet wounds and a raging fever.”

  His eyes roamed the perimeter. “Where’s your other half?”

  The words slashed at her. Her other half was lying on the ground before her, distrust back in his eyes. Refusing to address his remark, drawing them into an argument neither of them would win, she said, “Aidan left this morning for—”

  “Deserted you, huh?”

  “He went to get help, supplies.”

  “I’m surprised you didn’t go with him.” Before she could respond with a furious answer, he added, “Oh, wait, you wouldn’t abandon me, though, would you? You still don’t have the answers you seek.”

  “May I remind you that you’re the one who came after me? I had no idea you were even alive.”

  “Yeah. Right.”

  Sabrina stood up and stretched. Damned if she would sit and tend him like some kind of hapless victim while he hurled insults.

  “Believe what you want. It’s obvious you will anyway. I need some privacy.” Without waiting for what she was sure would be another hurtful or sarcastic remark, she walked away.

  He told himself the hurt in her eyes was fake. Sabrina was an excellent liar—he had trained her himself. Even so, every time she flinched or those green eyes darkened with hurt, something like guilt sliced through him.

  He lifted his head, realized he couldn’t and eased it back to the ground. Hell, he hadn’t felt this weak since he’d been in prison. Jaw clenched tight, he tried again. Sweating, nausea roiling in his stomach, he managed to sit up on the third try. Damn. His head whirled like somebody had loosened his eyeballs. He could barely focus.

  Closing his eyes, he concentrated on breathin
g, in, then out. Slow and easy. Long minutes later, he opened his eyes. Still felt like shit, but at least he could think more clearly and see halfway straight.

  He remembered almost nothing of the last two days, other than voices from time to time, Sabrina’s and he supposed Thorne’s. Something else he remembered were soft hands that soothed his brow and, though he was sure he dreamed it, soft lips that kissed his forehead, his mouth. Yeah, he’d definitely been hallucinating.

  But what he did remember—what he knew to be factual—was the death of the bastard who’d tortured him for months. The one man who could have told him who’d hired him. Why hadn’t he tried to taunt the man and get answers? Stupidly, he had thought he had more time. Beat the asshole to a pulp—getting some of his own back—and then he’d make him talk. He hadn’t counted on Sabrina stepping in and taking the man down.

  She had said she did it to save his life. He supposed there was some validity to that. Meat-Face had been holding a knife in his giant paw of a hand. Declan hadn’t seen it, and the man would have no doubt used it. And why hadn’t he seen it? Because he’d been distracted by something in the bushes. Aidan Thorne, Sabrina’s partner. Had they set that up to make it appear as if Sabrina was saving Declan’s life while also getting rid of the only man who could give him answers? Just how damn convenient was that?

  He pressed his fingers to his forehead, where an anvil-pounding pain threatened to rip his brain apart. Hell, he wasn’t thinking straight. Had he had a rational, coherent thought since his capture? Wearily, he admitted that he didn’t know.

  The snap of a twig brought his head up. Sabrina was coming toward him, holding the bottom of her T-shirt out. He saw that she had gathered a variety of exotic-looking fruits. “Okay, I’ve got some kind of berries, I’m fairly sure they’re edible. Here’re a couple of banana-looking things. And I’m almost positive this is some kind of grape.”

  Everything within Declan froze. For the first time since his return, he looked at Sabrina without suspicion and hate coloring his perception. Her brilliant auburn hair hung in a long braid down her back, her face, though naturally creamy, looked almost translucent, as if she were exhausted. Heavy shadows circled her eyes. Her generous mouth had lines on each side of it, as if she hadn’t smiled for years. Her camouflage pants were covered in mud and muck, and her tan, sleeveless T-shirt was spotted with his blood.