Light sizzled on darkness. A deep tremor shook him as the deep, burning cold in his gut slowly melted. The sensation was almost painful.
Concern began to replace encouragement in her eyes. Though it was the last thing he wanted to do, he brought her attention to the papers clutched in his fist. “This pretty much covers it. It happened in Central America, just as it says. Jim, my boss, insisted I team up with the new guy. I didn’t want a partner, hadn’t worked with one since I left the Rangers. Hell, no way did I want to have to look out for anyone other than myself. I was right. Dan would be alive if I hadn’t caved.
“What it doesn’t tell you is that when Dan’s head disintegrated, I turned and dropped to the ground and fired… Sugar I swear I didn’t realize it was a kid until I went over to check on the status of the gunman. I kicked his gun away. When I turned him over, I looked into the face of a kid.” He heard a faint rustling sound and realized he’d crushed the papers.
Unshed tears swam in her eyes. “How old was he?”
Dear God, he didn’t deserve her sympathy. But Gabriel knew he’d take it. He was just too damned weak not to.
“Eleven. Twelve. Maybe a little older. Does it matter? Christ, I killed a kid! What it comes down to is I killed a kid. Just a child,” he whispered, the same savage disbelief ripping through him that had dropped him to his knees that day.
“Hardly a child.” She wrapped each small hand around his biceps and shook. “Gabriel, he had just killed your partner and was going to kill you. Of course you returned fire. You acted purely out of self-defense, the same way anyone else in that situation would have done.”
Bullshit. He should have known, sensed somehow, that the shooter was a kid. Goddamn it. He should have known.
Some of his turmoil must have shown through. She quit trying to shake him. Her fingers rubbed over the rigid bands of muscle in a soothing rhythm. “Was that when you decided to retire?”
He wanted to hold her so badly, he ached with it. Gabriel refused to allow himself that comfort. “The decision had been creeping up on me for some time. That last mission simply brought it to a head. I was determined not to be put in such a position again. I didn’t join to make war against children.”
“Gabriel, if he was capable of surprising two experienced warriors, killing one, it seems reasonable to assume he hadn’t been a child for a long time.”
Gabriel thought about her statement for a moment, stunned to realized he’d never put it in that perspective before. “Maybe.” Even if she was right, the fact remained that the boy would be alive if he hadn’t an aptitude for killing. For that, he could never forgive himself. But if Kalesia could forgive him for killing the boy and for the revenge he’d taken, then maybe he owed it to her and to himself, to learn to live with himself.
Now that he wasn’t anticipating her reaction, he allowed himself to consider fully what he’d just read. One thing stood out. “Whoever wrote that report must have been present when Chavez interrogated me that last time.”
Kalesia stared at him. “Why do you say that? We already know he has access to your files. He could have gotten the information from them again this time.”
“No, he couldn’t. Not this time. I didn’t describe all that was done to me. And nothing I did to Chavez and the man I thought of as Straps was in any report. When debriefed at the hospital, I deliberately made no mention of my actions. On top of that, I know for a fact that no other teams were sent in to confirm the kills. The mission was a one-shot deal. Politically, it was too hot to attempt again. That means whoever wrote this,” he opened his hand and tried to smooth the crumpled pages, “was either there and hid or he had reason to go back. Unofficially. Let’s go find Sam. I have some work for him before Pompano receives that call.”
* * * * *
“Well?”
“She’s still there. I haven’t been able to get close to the woman.”
“I’ll find someone else to do the job.”
“No! Wait!” Pampano wiped his hand over his mouth. “Tomorrow afternoon. I’ll have a chance tomorrow afternoon. I heard Harley talk about bringing Steele in for questioning. Since he found out about that other stuff, he’s beginning to wonder if Steele knows more about Crump’s murder than he’s saying. He should be here several hours. I can get to her then.”
“Do so. Convince her that it is in her best interest to leave Steele.”
“Not a problem. I even have the perfect place for her to go. I’m taking care of a friend’s house while he’s gone. It’s next to the National Forest and isolated. Steele will never find her there.”
“It had better not be a problem. I expect results.”
“You’ll get them.” Pompano cleared his throat. “Uh, about my payment.…”
“Don’t worry.” There was a smile in the other man’s voice. “I’ll see you get payment in full. I’ll call again tomorrow for details.” There was a click and the dial tone sounded.
Pampano hung up the phone and turned, his hands shaking. “You haven’t forgotten our deal, have you?”
“No, I haven’t forgotten our deal,” Harley said, distaste in his voice. He glanced over his shoulder at Deputy Parker. “Put him back in the cell and put a twenty-four-hour watch him. I don’t want anything happening to him.”
Harley waited until Pompano was out of hearing distance. “And so it begins. Now who gets to break the news to Gabe?”
* * * * *
“The hell you will!” Gabriel roared.
“Be reasonable, Gabriel,” Kalesia tried, already knowing he was going to be difficult. “At least hear them out.”
“I’m listening.” He crossed his arms and shifted on the arm of the chair so he could glare at the four men in the room.
“Pompano received the call an hour ago. We’ve got to convince this guy that Kalesia has actually moved out if we hope to catch him. He’s a smart bastard,” Wolf admitted grudgingly.
“You couldn’t complete the trace.” It was a statement.
“For all we know he could be one mile or one hundred miles from here.” A muscle ticked in Sam’s jaw. It was easy to see he was furious over the fact they’d failed.
“Damn it all to hell,” Gabriel swore, straightening, switching the glacial glare to the man in uniform.
“As Wolf said, he’s smart. He’s not going to come out of the shadows if Kalesia doesn’t actually leave your protection.” Harley didn’t flinch at Gabriel’s harsh expletive. Kalesia wished she could be so sanguine.
“You don’t know that for sure.” Gabriel’s face could have been carved out of granite.
“Are you willing to chance Kalesia’s life that I’m not?”
“Isn’t that what you’re asking me to do?”
“Gabriel, don’t! You know they wouldn’t risk my life.” Kalesia reached up and brushed rich loam off his cheek. He’d been working in the greenhouse when Sam and Wolf returned with Harley from the sheriff’s office. “They’re your friends. What’s more, they’re also my friends. Gabriel,” she began, searching for the right words to convince him, “he’s been maneuvering to get me to leave. If I don’t, he’ll just go even deeper underground, then we’ll never know when he’ll surface to strike. You can’t protect me twenty-four hours a day for the rest of my life. We have to do this.”
“No.”
“What if another deputy is on the take?” Sam’s quiet question drew Gabriel’s wrath.
“You aren’t checking?” Gabriel asked Harley, his voice much too soft for Kalesia’s comfort.
“You know he is,” Wolf interjected. “You also know that in a situation like this, by the time he finds out, it might be too late. I understand your anger. Hell, man, I’d feel the same way if it was my woman involved, but we are not your enemies.”
“Forget it.” His hand slashed the air. “We were supposed to force him into making a move on me. She is not bait.”
Badger spoke up for the first time. “Think with your head, Gabe, not your dick. He knows y
ou’re on alert every minute Kalesia’s here with you. He’d be a fucking idiot to try anything now. And, whatever else that asshole is, he’s not an idiot. If he believes she’s bolted, he’ll do one of two things—make a move against you, thinking you’re distracted, or against Kalesia, thinking she’s vulnerable. Either way, we’ve got the bastard.”
It was a sign of Gabriel’s agitation that he didn’t immediately jump Badger’s case for the language. Kalesia touched Gabriel’s back in a silent plea, feeling the tension in the rock-hard muscles. “Listen to him. This might be our only chance to catch the killer.”
His eyes went hard. “No. You,” he leaned over Kalesia, caging her between two steel arms, “are out of your pea-sized brain if you think I’m going to let you go out there on your own. This isn’t some kind of game, woman. This guy plays for keeps. He’s already killed a professional hit man. I absolutely refuse to let you set yourself up as bait.”
Waves of quivering outrage and implacable denial washed over Kalesia. The gray eyes were no longer a polished mirror but molten as silver in a fiery crucible. They singed her as Gabriel brought his face closer to hers. Suddenly, it was hard to breathe, as if all the oxygen was sucked up by Gabriel’s fury. To her disgust, her voice trembled as she sought to make him see reason. It wasn’t fear, she assured herself. Gabriel would never hurt her. But he could be very…intimidating when he wanted to.
“I know it’s not a game. However, we won’t get another opportunity like this one.”
“No.”
Her own temper, never shy, flared. “What do you mean ‘no’?”
“I mean, no. No, you will not leave this house. No, you will not stay at an isolated cabin by yourself, I don’t care how secure it supposedly is. No, you will not be setting yourself up as an unprotected target,” Gabriel gritted, his voice as dark as midnight and as rough as gravel.
Kalesia drew a deep breath and reined in her ire. One of them had to remain calm. His anger was coming from fear for her safety, she had to remember that. But he had to understand it was her decision. She refused to live her life looking over her shoulder, waiting for a bullet from an unseen marksman. “I won’t be unprotected. The way Tom explained it, men will be hidden around the property and a base will be set up nearby. They’ve been there since before Pompano said that was where he’d take me. One way or the other, someone will know my movements at all times. Besides, it’s not your choice to make.” Kalesia stared, fascinated, as the pulse in the hollow of his throat beat a rapid tattoo.
“Wanna bet?” His hand snaked out and captured her chin. The rough texture of his fingers threatened, promised pain if she struggled.
Kalesia didn’t move as she stared into his eyes.
“I could crush you with very little effort. If I decided to tie you to my bed, there wouldn’t be a damn thing you could do to stop me. You’re not strong enough.” His fingers tightened, adding just the slightest fraction of pressure.
Kalesia met his gaze with absolute assurance. “But you won’t, will you?”
Gabriel tried to stare her down. Didn’t she understand that no matter how close an eye they kept on the place, there were no guarantees? It would tear him apart if she was injured but if she was to get killed, he’d go crazy. Not just insane but gut-wrenching, soul-tearing crazy. It’d be a pain worse than any he suffered while tortured.
“I won’t let you be hurt!” he snarled, recognizing defeat and bitterly furious about it. An unfamiliar anguish knifed through him, twisting his mouth.
Her hand curved about his and the emerald green eyes were as warm as a lagoon on a summer afternoon. “I know you won’t.”
Where the hell did she get her belief in him? He exhaled heavily, letting go of his anger with an effort. “I’m going to regret this.”
“No, you won’t, because I’m going to be fine.”
Gabriel released her chin and extended his hand, palm up. He waited.
There was a question in her eyes. She stared at his hand and then back at his face. He didn’t say anything, just held his hand out.
Kalesia put her hand in his.
Relief coursed through him. He closed his fingers about hers. Such a small hand, he thought in amazed wonder, to hold his happiness. And it was a hand that wouldn’t falter.
Kalesia believed in honor. Not many did anymore but Gabriel knew, without the slightest doubt, that she would never betray him. He could trust her with his honor and with his life.
Gabriel spoke over his shoulder without turning his head. “This cabin had better be as secure as you say.”
“It is,” Wolf stated. “I designed the security system myself.”
* * * * *
Kalesia watched Gabriel as he got ready for bed. The shirt was thrown over the chair. She loved the fact he never tried to hide his scars from her. He sat down and took off his shoes and socks. The wallet hit the dresser and slid across the polished surface. His keys, watch and change were placed with a little more care. He stood and stepped out of his jeans.
He was starkly, heavily aroused.
She stared at his erection as it jutted from its nest of hair. A rush of liquid fire heated her pussy. With an effort, she brought her mind back to the topic she wanted to address. He’d been brooding all day and enough was enough. “I’ll be fine, you know.”
Gabriel tossed the covers to the foot of the bed. He came down on top of her, caging her between his arms. “I can’t lose you.” Raw savagery glittered in his eyes.
“You won’t lose me.” She touched the muscle jumping in his jaw. “As Deputy Parker would put it, I’ll stick tighter to you than a tick on a wet hound dog,” she said, trying to lighten his mood.
“That tight, huh?” Some of the tension left him.
“Uh-huh. You’ll have to peel me off if you want to get rid of me.” His hands went to her hips. Out of the blue, she remembered the second thing she’d wanted to discuss. Her gown slid up to her waist. Maybe it could wait until morning. She moaned as he nibbled at her collarbone. What if it’s important? Oh, shut up, she told her conscience. But the mood was broken. She sighed. She had to tell him now.
“Gabriel? I doubt this means anything but I remembered something else.”
Gabriel lifted his head, expression suddenly intent. “From the vision in the barn?”
She nodded, running her hands restlessly from shoulder to the bulge of muscle in his upper arms and back again. “I honestly can’t see how it will help but I recall the flash of gold on the killer’s hand. A ring.”
Beneath her palms, his muscles rippled. “Could you see what it looked like?”
She didn’t know why but the answer was very important to Gabriel. Kalesia closed her eyes and tried to visualize it. Frustrated, she shook her head. “Not really. All I get is the impression of an intricate design. Maybe two animals,” she hazarded, all too aware it wasn’t much to go on.
Gabriel pulled away, rolling over to lay with one arm behind his head. He stared at the ceiling. Tension thrummed from the still form.
“What is it? What did I say?” Confused, Kalesia shifted to her side. Propped up on one elbow, she stared down at his face. “Gabriel?” she tried again when he didn’t answer. She touched his chest.
He jerked upright and swung his legs out of bed.
Kalesia felt her mouth drop open. What the hell?
He crossed to the French doors, jerking the drapes aside until they were fully open. He stood, one arm braced on the seam where the two doors met. His reflection was crystal clear in the glass. She saw his fist close and open slowly, one finger at a time.
Kalesia got the distinct impression he was struggling for words.
The muscles bunched beneath the sleek shoulders. “Do you know,” he said, leaning his forehead against the glass, “the first time I remember seeing it was on a night much like tonight—hot, humid but with a slight breeze to make it bearable. It’s amazing how quickly a man learns to appreciate simple pleasures. The cooling relief of rain after
a day spent baking in the sun, a slight breeze as it dries the sweat on your body. The absence of pain…” he whispered.
“I had gone through the usual bull, them telling me of my crimes against Chavez’s pseudo-government and trying to extract a written confession and apology in return for release and me resisting. It was a psychological game. I was still sore from the last beating but not too bad. They had left me alone for an entire day to reflect on my sins. I wasn’t too worried when they came for me again. Figured it was going to be another bull session.” He spread his fingers on the glass.
Kalesia’s throat ached and a sharp pain ripped through her chest. She thought she had an idea of what was coming next—torture.
He laughed, a harsh grate of sound. “Talk about being wrong! I was cocky, sure I could stand whatever they cared to dish out. I was still a hardass, I guess. After all, hadn’t I survived all they had thrown at me without breaking? They took me to the Teacher’s hut. Teacher was my nickname for Chavez because he carried a swagger stick and used it to point at things, the way a teacher does. They manacled my wrists behind my back. I was wary because this wasn’t part of the normal routine but not yet afraid. Talk about stupid! I was a total jackass.”
“It was dark inside. I heard the door to the hut open. They slammed me to the floor. I tasted blood as my lip split. Things wavered for a moment as my head impacted with the floor. From the corner of my eye, I caught the flash of gold as a hand waved. One guard had his knee dug into my back. I could barely catch my breath from his weight. Then the other guard began tightening the manacles. They were the old-fashioned kind that screwed shut. You know, the kind that doesn’t stop for a little matter like flesh? They don’t stop until they hit bone.
“Using nylon strips, they began lacing my arms together, from wrist to elbow. I was lucky,” he reflected too caught up to notice Kalesia’s sick horror at the story unfolding. It was so much worse than she had expected.
Tapestry of the Past Page 22
