“Yep,” Ty said shortly. “No answer?”
Another lie, followed by an evasion. What was going on here?
Gabby knew her voice sounded thin when she said, “No answer. No voice mail, either, which might mean the whole system is—”
She broke off when the line clicked live and a man’s voice said, “Hello?”
“Hello,” she said automatically, then faltered and hissed at Ty, “Somebody answered. What am I supposed to tell him?”
“Who is this?” The stranger’s voice sharpened with immediate suspicion.
“I’m calling for Ty Jones,” she said, though he probably knew that from caller ID. “My name is Gabby.”
“Oh,” the stranger said, then more slowly, as though he knew who she was, “Oh, really? Is he there?”
“He’s driving.” More accurately, he was flying, taking the corners on two wheels with a scream of protest from the rubber they were laying down. Gabby leaned in to the turn and wished she could simply sit back and enjoy.
How could she have forgotten this part?
“Tell Ethan we need a distraction,” Ty bit out between reverse loops of a snaking turn. “We need the cops and the Guard otherwise occupied while we make a run to Boston General. And ask him if he can keep the phone on. I have a feeling that’s not our final destination.”
“I heard him,” Ethan, said before Gabby could relay the questions. “Give us ten minutes to take care of the distraction. And yes, I’ll keep the phone on as long as I can. Where the hell are we supposed to meet him? Near the hospital?”
She parroted the question, but Ty said only, “I’ll call him. Tell him to stay the hell away from the hospital, but be ready to move fast.”
“Got it,” Ethan said. “I don’t like it, but I’ve got it.” His voice shifted. “Are you two okay?”
“For now,” Gabby said, confused that he was talking to her like he knew who she was and what she was doing with Ty. Or were his friends used to him picking up women and dragging them into situations like this?
Somehow she didn’t think so.
“We’ll be waiting to hear from you. And, Gabby?”
“Yes?” Her head was starting to spin, and she didn’t think it was from the speed or the chocolate buzz.
“Take care of him for us, okay? He’s not nearly as tough as he wants everybody to think.”
Ethan hung up, leaving Gabby even more confused than she’d been moments earlier.
“What’d he say?”
“He said to give them ten minutes before you try to reach the hospital, and after that, they’d wait for you to call.” She kept the rest of the conversation to herself. What had Ethan meant? Why had he told her such a thing? He’d seemed to know who she was, had seemed to accept her presence without question. Had he thought she was someone else, or had Ty mentioned her at some point?
And if so, why? Why would he have talked about a woman he was pretending to romance as part of a Secret Service inquiry? Had he laughed about it, or was there something else going on?
Without warning, Ty hit the brakes, cut the wheel and killed the engine.
The silence and stillness was a shock in the wake of the roar and power of the Camaro, and Gabby nearly gasped. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
“We’ve got company up ahead—three Guard transpos and a tank. Cross your fingers that Ethan and the others come through pronto with that distraction. Until then, we’ll have to lay low and make like an abandoned car.”
He didn’t suggest they hunker down in the foot-wells, probably because it was still so dark out. Gabby was thankful for the small reprieve, because the moment they stopped moving the shivers returned, reminding her of all the bad things that could happen in fast cars driven by hot men.
Looking to distract herself, she said, “You keep mentioning others, but you said they weren’t Secret Service. What are you, part of some black-ops unit or something?”
He chuckled. “You’ve been watching too many movies.”
“TV, mostly,” she said, registering the evasion. “I like to listen to it while I work on the computers.” Which only served to remind her of what’d happened back at the apartment—her computers had been broken, her 3-D tactile imaging prototype destroyed, her space violated. The thought should’ve depressed her.
The fact that it didn’t was almost worse.
What was happening to her settled, comfortable way of life?
Suddenly, practical Gabby and the North End seemed very far away.
“We’ll get you home soon,” Ty said, misreading her completely. “My friend Shane is a wizard with computers. I’ll have him take a look and see what you can salvage.”
“Don’t condescend,” she snapped, as the shivers turned into something else, something more raw and volatile. “I built them, I can fix them. That’s what I do.” Angry tears suddenly threatened as her frustrations piled up one atop the next. “I’m blind, not incapable.”
He was silent for a moment, then said very carefully, “I don’t remember saying you were.”
“You didn’t need to say it. I know very well you wouldn’t have gotten involved with me if you’d known I can’t see.” A vicious ache gathered in her chest. “That’s right. You were under orders to get involved, weren’t you? Orders handed down by your friend Grant Davis, hero, patriot and friend to Boston’s needy.”
She knew that was aiming low, and wasn’t sure she cared. She wanted to pick a fight, wanted to yell at him, wanted him to yell back and give her a good reason not to want him, a good reason to walk the hell away and not look back, so she’d be the one leaving this time rather than him.
But before he could answer, three dull thuds sounded in the distance, vibrating through the very earth itself.
Ty started the Camaro and said tightly, “That’s our distraction, and there goes the Guard.” He shifted into gear. “Hang on. It’s going to be a bumpy ride.”
Chapter 9
Hey, Gabs:
You know what I think? I think you should take a weekend away. Just pack a few things and get out of the city. Maybe Maria would go with you? Forgive me if I don’t suggest bringing a guy friend along. I know I said I wasn’t the jealous type, and it’s probably selfish of me—heck, I knowit’s selfish—but I like the idea of having you to myself, even if it’s just online. Maybe one of these days you’ll come clean on why you don’t want to meet me. Is it the fear that the fantasy wouldn’t be as good as what we’ve built up here in cyberspace? Or is it something else entirely? I’m betting on the “something else,” because, baby, I can assure you that I’m even better in person than I am online. I guess what I’m trying to say is…I really think we should meet. What’s the worst that could happen?
[Sent by TyJ; July 15, 1:05:25 a.m.]
4:12 a.m., August 3 1 Hour and 26 Minutes until Dawn When the members of Eclipse did a job it got done right, so Ty flipped on the Camaro’s headlights and kept the pedal to the metal all the way across the city, trusting that he was clear.
But although the road was empty, he was far from clear.
“I’m sorry,” he said through gritted teeth. “I was only trying to help.”
She sighed. “And I was trying to pick a fight. So I’m sorry, too.”
Her apology didn’t fix things, though. If anything, it worsened the tension in his gut and the pounding ache in his chest, the one that told him he was on the edge of a dangerous drop, leaning out toward empty space.
As the darkened city blocks flew past on either side of them, he said, “You know I was married to my high school sweetheart. Mandy.”
He kept his eyes front, but felt her surprise and heard it in her voice when she said, “You mentioned her once or twice.” She paused. “I take it the divorce was ugly?”
Ty knew it had to be said, knew it would explain things she wouldn’t understand otherwise. Still, it took an effort of will for him to say, “There was no divorce. She died of a brain aneurysm while I was overseas.”
He kept his eyes on the road, but he heard her hiss of indrawn breath. She was quiet for a couple of blocks before she sighed. “Another lie.”
“If I told you it was the last one, would you believe me?”
“Only if you promised,” she said, tone ringing with quiet dignity.
“It’s a promise, then. I won’t lie to you again.” He wanted to reach out to her, to touch her in some way and make her understand, but she seemed so very far away on her side of the hot rod. So instead, he said, “I think I told you that Mandy and I argued about my work schedule. Quite a bit, in fact. She wanted me home more, wanted me to make more of a commitment to our marriage. We were…” He trailed off. Exhaled. “We were together for six months after I got out of the military, before I proposed. I thought it was long enough for us to get to know each other again, long enough to be sure it was right. It turned out a relationship can make it through six months on not much more than memories and inertia.”
She glanced at him now. “You were thinking of divorcing?”
“No,” he said quickly, then, “maybe. I don’t know. We were crazy about each other, but we weren’t doing very well living with each other. She thought I should quit the Secret Service and take a security position closer to where we grew up, so she could be near her family when we decided to have kids. She didn’t understand that back then…” His throat closed on the memory, on something close to panic. “That was eight years ago, and I wasn’t ready to slow down yet. Hell, even the protection detail wasn’t enough action for me. I wanted to be on the front lines again, wanted to be making a difference where it counted.”
“You wanted to be a hero,” Gabby said softly. She’d turned back to him, but her expression was still closed. Suspicious.
“I’m no hero. Never have been.” Ty stared straight ahead into the darkness, gripping the Camaro’s steering wheel so tightly his fingers ached. “I volunteered for a special assignment and wound up getting sent abroad on almost no notice.” That had been the beginning of Eclipse, the very first assignment for a band of brothers who’d all grown bored with civilian life and had gone looking for a challenge. It had also been Mandy’s birthday. He blew out a breath and kept going. “We were supposed to meet at a restaurant that evening. She’d called me up earlier in the day to say she wasn’t sure about dinner, that she wasn’t feeling well.”
He’d been relieved by that, which made it worse somehow. He’d thought if she postponed the birthday dinner for a few days and they celebrated when he got back from that first mission, it’d be okay. It wouldn’t be him bailing on her, wouldn’t be him being unavailable.
Except he’d been exactly that—gone when she’d needed him most.
He wasn’t aware that he’d fallen silent, lost in bad memories and guilt, until Gabby said, “What happened?”
“I got the call the moment I stepped off the plane. She’d died of an aneurysm. The damned headache killed her.” I killed her, he wanted to say, but didn’t because he couldn’t bear hearing the logic of the arguments against it. He should’ve been with her. It’d been her birthday, damn it. He should’ve been there, and if he had been, he would’ve figured out how badly she was hurting, and he would’ve dragged her to the E.R.
The doctors had said if they’d caught the bleed early enough, surgery probably would have saved her life. As it was, she’d died all alone in their bedroom.
In a silence broken only by the muttering rumble of the Camaro’s engine, Ty waited for Gabby’s pity, for her understanding.
Instead she turned away from him and pressed her cheek to the window. “How much farther to Boston General?”
On any other day, with any other person, Ty told himself he would’ve appreciated not having to fend off the sympathy. With Gabby, though, the withdrawal stung.
It was no more than he deserved, but he realized on some level he’d expected more. He’d wanted more, which was damned unfair of him, given that he wasn’t willing to give anything back.
Muttering a curse, he gripped the steering wheel even harder and sent them hurtling into the night. “Not far now. Not long until dawn, either.”
By the time the sun rose over Boston, things would be over, one way or the other. Either he’d save Grant Davis and be a hero, or Grant would be dead and part of Boston leveled. Regardless of how it went down, there was one unavoidable fact.
When the dawn came, TyJ and CyberGabby would be going their separate ways.
* * *
True to his word—this one, at least—Ty pulled the Camaro over and threw it into Park within a few minutes, but those minutes had dragged endlessly for Gabby.
Just when she’d started to believe she knew Ty, just when she’d started to think there were no more secrets, no more surprises between them, he’d cracked and told her the truth about Mandy. The confidence should’ve felt like progress. Instead, it felt like a huge step backward off a fatal drop.
The faint, sad echo in his voice when he spoke of his ex wasn’t because of a painful divorce. It was true sadness, mixed with guilt. And if she’d thought once or twice that she could compete with a bad ex, there was no way in hell she could compete with a dead woman.
Besides, what could she offer Ty besides more of the same? She’d worry just as hard if her man were overseas on some black-ops mission—and as much as he might try to pretend he wasn’t black-ops, she wasn’t an idiot. And although she’d worked hard to become as self-sufficient as possible, she needed help sometimes. Right now the onus fell on Maria. At one point, she’d hoped to find a man to share the burden with her, but time and experience had proven that was impossible.
Even more so with a vital, physically active man like Ty.
“Come on,” he said now, and she heard the Camaro’s door swing open. “Stick close to me. After what we found at the halfway house, I’m not sure what to expect here.”
It’d only been an hour or so since they’d left Tom and Lennie’s house, but to Gabby it felt like days. So much had happened in the interim—the gang, the chase, hiding out in the office, making love to Ty on a stranger’s desk…. God, she almost felt like a different person than the one who’d sat and talked to Kayleigh, and she definitely felt a whole world away from the woman who’d hidden in the bushes while Maria pretended to be her.
Problem was, she might be a different person now, but she had no idea who that person was.
Emerging from the Camaro, she paused and frowned as the sounds and smells didn’t line up with what she’d been expecting. “I thought you said the last campaign stop was Boston General.”
“Not the hospital itself.” He joined her on the curb and took her hand, but instead of curling his fingers against hers, he guided her grip to his belt. “We’re at one of the administration buildings on the Mass Ave. side of the hospital. We had a thousand-dollar-a-plate luncheon here, where Grant gave a speech promising to work on health care reform, giving it a more globalized context and making high-quality care more accessible for the working class.”
“That sounds pretty vague.” Gabby tilted her head, trying to predict the next move. “It’d be hard for Liam to prove he went back on those promises.”
“If that’s what he’s trying to do.” Ty’s voice was tight, warning her not to push the issue. “I’m inclined to think he’s just playing an elaborate game with us, that he never intended to tell me where the bomb is, or give me an opportunity to defuse it and rescue Grant.”
But that didn’t stop him from heading for the admin building, tugging Gabby along in his wake. She stumbled a little on tired legs, but followed Ty out of habit as much as anything.
Deep inside her a seed of resentment took root and began to grow. She didn’t want to be here, didn’t want to be a part of this.
“I don’t belong here,” she said quietly, her heart breaking a little. “I’m not helping you at all. If anything, I’m slowing you down just like I said I would. Let me go home. Please.”
She could feel the frustration and
impatience radiating off Ty. Because of it, she half expected him to snap at her or, hell, even agree and call one of his “not Secret Service” friends to come get her.
Instead he turned, wrapped his arms around her and held her close, resting his cheek against the top of her head. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”
Thoroughly undone by the unexpected tenderness, by the odd feeling that he needed the contact as much as she did at that moment, Gabby froze, not sure how to react.
“I wish things had been different,” he said. “I wish I really were a corporate bodyguard, and that I’d picked your photo out because I liked your hair and your gorgeous smile. I wish I were really in a position to have a girlfriend or a wife and have it be fair for both of us. Most of all, I wish I hadn’t dragged you into this. I wish you were safe at home, that your computers weren’t broken, that the lights were on, that none of this had happened…” He trailed off and she heard him sigh. “Only that’s a lie, too, because I can’t wish I’d never met you in person. You’re so damn much more than you seem, more even than you’re ready to believe.”
Tired of the push-pull between them, tired of the night and the darkness, Gabby drew away. “I’m sorry, Ty. I can’t—”
He silenced her with a kiss.
Unprepared, she parted her lips in shock, and Ty must have taken that as an invitation to deepen the kiss, cupping her hips in his hands and urging her closer to his bulk.
The kiss was brief but no less intense for its brevity, and they were both breathing hard when he eased back and said, “No, I’m the one who’s apologizing here, not you. I’m sorry I can’t promise to be what you need, and I’m sorry I can’t seem to make that matter right now.”
This time she pushed all the way away from him and took a step back. She shook her head. “None of this matters right now, Ty, and we both know it. Let’s focus on finding your Patriot. After that, if you want, we can take some time and figure out if there’s anything between us besides lies, bad timing and some sparks.”
Lights Out Page 13
