Valor: Cavalieri Della Morte

by Stone, Measha

  “Dustan.” Cherise’s voice pulled me from my research. I leaned to the left and took her in from behind my computer screen.

  She’d slept in my shirt. Right beside me. I had felt the heat of her body filling the space between us in my bed. I’d been a fucking gentleman and let her sleep with her panties on, and I didn’t touch her.

  But, now, she was back in her jeans and sweatshirt. She needed a change of clothes.

  Her hair was pulled back into a high ponytail, giving her such an innocent look, I wanted to dive over my desk and begin her corruption.

  “Yeah?” I asked, forcing myself to remain casual. Those jeans were hugging her hips the way I wanted to, but I needed to distract myself from that fact.

  “I want to go outside, and I don’t want you chasing after me with Simone.” She folded her arms over her stomach, a little defense she put up between us.

  I touched my gun at my hip and grinned. She’d remembered her name.

  “Why do you want to go outside?” I asked, glancing out the window. The sun hid behind clouds, and I could make out the wind blowing through the leaves. “It’s crap outside.”

  “It’s boring as hell inside,” she shot back at me, with her chin raised. She really did surprise me.

  “If you want something from me, I wouldn’t advise your attitude make an appearance.” I sighed and went back to reading my monitor.

  “I’m going out back,” she announced. Some of the snark was gone this time.

  “Don’t go near the tree line.” I leaned to the side again. “And get a sweatshirt from my closet. It’s cold today.”

  She stared at me for a long moment. What was there to decide? I’d given her what she wanted.

  “Okay.” She turned and left me to my work.

  I shook my head. I couldn’t get a good read on her, which pissed me off more than interested me.

  Her footsteps faded up the stairs and, a few minutes later, she came back down. A flash of blue passed my doorway just before the back door opened and shut. At least she’d put on another sweatshirt.

  My phone buzzed a few times, and I read over the messages. Bobby didn’t have information on Cherise’s uncle, but he had some about the Merde family. They were upping the reward for Cherise’s capture.

  I gave a clear-cut reply of no and slid my phone back onto the desk. I wasn’t turning her over to the fucking Merde family for any amount of money. Arthur’s orders were to keep her close and dig around about the Styles’ family farm. He had suspicions, but he didn’t share them with me.

  I stood and walked to the window. Cherise was making her way over the grass, straight for the tree line. My jaw clenched. She just couldn’t listen to a simple fucking order.

  Something startled her. She paused and looked around her, searching out a sound maybe. The wind picked up, blowing loose strands of her hair around her face. She pulled the hoodie tighter around her and started walking again.

  The hairs on my neck danced to attention, and I flicked my gaze to her left, off in the distance. Movement in the trees.

  Fuck.

  With Simone in hand, I ran out of my office, through the house, and burst out into the back yard.

  “Cherise!” I screamed for her, but the wind stole my warning and carried it away. She continued walking forward, the hood now pulled up around her ears.

  “Fuck! Cherise!” I broke into a full run, weapon ready, toward her while scanning the perimeter. More movement, but I couldn’t make out a clear target.

  “Cherise!” I yelled again, and this time she heard me. She paused and turned around, her mouth dropping open when she took notice of my gun.

  A shot rang out, but not from me.

  I waved at her. “Down! Get down!”

  She froze for a moment but then dropped to the grass. I ran toward the sound of the shot.

  The intruder stepped deeper into a bush, but I’d seen him. I stopped short of the tree line, aiming at his location, and waited.

  “Dustan,” Cherise called out, but I ignored her.

  To the left of the bush, the asshole moved, his arm extended. I fired.

  A pained scream followed by the thud of his gun hitting the ground signaled I’d hit him.

  “Stay there!” I pointed back at Cherise and ran to finish this.

  I found him, a young asshole lying on the ground, holding his arm. I kicked him and rolled him to his back, pressing my foot into his neck.

  “Who the fuck sent you?” I asked.

  He pushed against my boot, but with an injured arm, and my weight on him, he didn’t have much of a chance at success.

  “Who?” I urged again, pressing harder into his throat.

  “Just need the girl,” he choked out, wincing.

  I cocked the gun.

  “Merde?” I asked, taking aim.

  His eyes widened, and his feet scrambled to find purchase on the ground, but he wasn’t going anywhere. He struggled, trying to get up from where I had him pinned.

  “Yes!” He twisted, but there was no hope.

  “How’d you find this location?” I asked. My house was safe. It wasn’t on any map or register. Fuck, even the property tax bill had the wrong address on it. I wasn’t findable.

  “Fuck you,” he spat at me.

  The corner of my lips kicked up. Maybe he thought holding back the information would keep him alive. Give him a chance to find a way out of it if I took the time to interrogate him.

  He was wrong.

  I squeezed the trigger, sending a clean shot through this forehead then stepped away from him, letting the blood pool out onto the forest floor, collecting in the loose leaves and twigs.

  A snap of wood behind me signaled Cherise’s arrival. I dropped my hand to the side and faced her.

  “I told you to stay put.” I shoved my gun back in its place.

  “Who was he?” she asked, fingertips touching her lips. The color faded from her cheeks.

  “A bad guy,” I said and walked over to her. I brushed the loose hairs from her face. “You okay?” I checked her over. That pot shot he took had been aimed at me, but I needed to be sure she was untouched.

  Her gaze flicked from the dead asshole on the ground to me. I’d seen fear in those beautiful eyes of hers the first time she’d seen me kill, but this time, there was none. This time, she simply looked curious.

  “He was here for you?” she asked, though I could hear the doubt in her voice. She knew.

  “No, darlin’. He was here for you.”

  “Why?” she whispered.

  “Like I said, you’re an asset.” I ran my thumb over her chin. “I told you to stay away from the tree line.”

  Her eyes narrowed, and her forehead wrinkled.

  “You’re blaming me?”

  I grinned. “No. Just don’t want any confusion as to why you’re getting your ass spanked later.” I dropped my hand from her face and grabbed hers. “We have to go. But later…” I let the warning fade and tugged her toward the house.

  “Leave? For where?” She preoccupied herself with questions, probably thinking I was just blowing smoke about disciplining her later. I wasn’t speaking just to hear myself. If she’d made it to the tree line before I’d spotted her, she’d be gone now. That asshole would have had her pulled away through the trees and, no matter how much she screamed, it would have been unlikely that I would have heard her.

  Whoever sent the asshole might have followed up with more men, and I wasn’t taking chances. I dragged her to my office.

  “Stand there.” I pointed a finger. “Don’t fucking move.”

  “I don’t understand, Dustan. Where else would we go?” She pulled the sleeves of the sweatshirt down over her hands and tucked her arms in her armpits. The chill from outside had followed us inside, or she was getting scared.

  I threw open the doors to the cabinet in the corner of my office and grabbed a bag, filling it with everything I needed. I snagged another bag, pre-packed for situations like this, and slammed
the cabinet shut.

  “Let’s go. Don’t talk right now.” I grabbed her arm and pulled her along with me to the garage.

  She yanked back.

  “C’mon, Cherise. You’re not going in that room. I promise.” I slowed down but kept pulling her with me.

  She didn’t fight me the rest of the way, but I could see from the corner of my eye that she glared at the door leading to the small room. I’d interrogated more men in that room than I could remember. Most of them met their end in there as well. But it had never been intended for that with her.

  I let her hand go and dropped my bags once we reached my car. Pulling off the thick covering, I unveiled my mustang.

  “That’s your car?” she asked with understandable appreciation.

  “It’s faster than the sedan,” I said, picking up the bags. “Right now, I need speed, not to blend in with working-class bar patrons.”

  “Where are we going?” she asked again once I climbed into the driver’s side.

  “Away from here.” I threw the car into gear and, the moment the garage door gave enough clearance, we were gone.

  Cherise

  We drove for hours before Dustan pulled the car off the highway. I’d asked once too many times about our destination, so he wasn’t talking to me at all anymore. The gag lying on the dashboard in front of me was a constant reminder of his last words.

  “Another word, darlin’, and I’ll take care of it for you.” He had slammed the ball gag onto the dash. My next question was going to be, who the hell kept a ball gag in his glove compartment, but I had kept it to myself.

  “You’re hungry,” he stated after my stomach made a loud gurgling sound. I’d skipped breakfast earlier, but I wasn’t going to mention it. The gag still glared at me.

  “You can talk now, darlin’.” He laughed softly. “If I’d known you were so against that gag, I would have had it out from the get-go.”

  “Maybe it’s best I just sit here then and let you drive me halfway across the country to whatever destination you feel like taking me. And then maybe I should just follow every order you give me without complaint or question.” I kept my gaze fixed on the scenery outside my window.

  His hand landed on my thigh, right above my knee, and he gripped hard.

  “Yes—to both of those things.” He gave my knee a squeeze and let loose a low chuckle. “But I doubt you could do either of them.”

  “You’ll have to excuse my rudeness. I’m not used to people trying to kidnap or kill me.” I pressed my forehead to the chilled window. “I suppose I should be used to it by now, seeing as it’s happened twice now in the span of two days. Now, people are trying to kidnap me from my kidnapper.” I laughed, tossing my head back, feeling the bubble of insanity building inside me. “I mean, seriously, that’s funny, right? You steal me from my apartment then this guy shows up trying to steal me from you. And for what?”

  I twisted beneath the seat belt to face him.

  “I’m a medical receptionist. That’s it. I have no money, no power, I have nothing and am nothing. Why the hell would anyone want me? Why would I be an asset to anyone?”

  His dark gaze struck me just before he turned the wheel and sped us to the side of the road. Dirt kicked up around the car at the abrupt stop. He threw the gears into park, undid his seat belt, and turned to me. One hand grabbed my headrest while the other pointed at me.

  “Two things, darlin’.” His calm tone contrasted the heat in his expression, the tension in his mouth and darkness of his eyes. “One, you aren’t nothing. Two, you definitely are an asset. Three, say otherwise and I won’t be waiting until we get settled for the night before I tan your ass. I’ll do it right here on the side of the road.”

  My breath escaped me. Left me completely alone and, as I tried to find it again, his hand snaked around my neck, pulling me close to him.

  He was shaken. Something I’d said had gotten to him. An offhand comment about my worth. This man had slain two men before me without so much as a blink, but I made one stupid remark and he got rattled?

  “That was three things,” I whispered when it became evident, he wasn’t going to say anything more.

  He tilted his chin back, his eyes searching my face.

  “What?”

  “You first said two things, but then you said three,” I pointed out softly.

  His lips spread out into a gentle grin. “I suppose I did.”

  “I am sort of hungry,” I said, sinking into the warmth of his hand against my neck.

  “I heard.” He glanced down at my stomach. “We’ll grab some food then get back on the road. We have another five hours before we stop for the night.”

  “You going to tell me where we’re going?” I asked, hoping he’d relent in his stubborn stance of keeping it from me.

  “Not a chance.” He winked and let me go. “There’s a town coming up in about twenty minutes. We’ll grab food there.”

  I watched him settle himself back in his seat. “Okay, sure.”

  The town he took us to had a diner right off the highway exit. A small place that smelled of pancakes and syrup. He led me to a corner booth and slid in across from me.

  He clamped his hand down over my menu when I started to open it. “Just get the burger. Trust me.” I looked down at the oversized laminated page and nodded.

  “Sure. Sounds good.” It sounded like heaven, but I was trying to keep my tone casual. Go with the flow. Maybe if I kept more of my questions to myself, he’d start talking. Maybe if I pushed, he’d only pull back.

  “Good.” He raised a hand, gesturing for the waitress.

  An older woman stopped at our table to take our order. Her hair was bound up in a bun. She wore deep-red lipstick that stood out against her pale complexion.

  “And to drink?” she asked as she scribbled the double order of burgers onto her pad.

  “Diet—”

  “Two root beers,” he said over me.

  She paused in her scribbling and glanced between us.

  “How do you know I’m not diabetic?” I asked.

  He ignored me and looked up at the waitress. “Two root beers, and extra fries on her plate.” He pointed a long finger at me but still hadn’t looked in my direction.

  The waitress’s lips twisted up on the right side, and she made her notes.

  “You got it.” She tucked the pad back into her apron and collected the menus from us. “A man wants you to have extra fries, he’s a keeper.” She winked at me and walked off toward the kitchen with our order.

  Dustan chuckled.

  “Seriously?” I jerked a thumb toward the retreating waitress. “What if I don’t like root beer?”

  He shrugged. “You’ll survive.”

  I blinked. “So, you don’t care.” What a stupid argument to have with the man who’d abducted me, whipped me, and was only a few hours away from trying to give me another punishment.

  “About your pop choice? No. Not really.” He drummed his fingers on the table. “You aren’t diabetic, by the way. If you were, we’d probably already have had an issue on our hands by now. You haven’t exactly been eating routinely, and you haven’t mentioned the need for medicine.”

  The wind died out of my sails, and I sank back into the leather upholstery of the booth. I was tired. Too tired to argue about drink choices. Root beer actually was one of my favorite treats, but he didn’t know that.

  “Can I ask you a question?”

  “You can ask.” He nodded. I noticed he didn’t promise to answer.

  “Have you always done this, or did you do something else before?”

  “Before what?” His lips quirked up.

  “Before whatever this is.” I gestured between us.

  “What is it you think you know?”

  I sighed. I should have known better than to think I’d get a straight answer out of him.

  “Well, I don’t think you had any real grievance against that guy back home. I think you were there because you wer
e told to be there. And you didn’t kill me right away because you were waiting to hear from your boss. Is that right?” I kept my voice low, even though there were only two other booths with customers—and they were on the other end of the diner, I didn’t want to draw attention to us. And I got a feeling, he wouldn’t appreciate any unwanted attention, either.

  He studied me silently with the same intensity I’d found in him the night at the bar. He’d been reserved, but his dominating presence had been palpable. Maybe that’s what drew me to him. I figured he’d shoot me down straightaway, and I could crawl home with my failure.

  “I spent three tours overseas. Navy SEAL,” he said. He didn’t move his gaze from me, but I noticed his fingers pressed harder into the table.

  “A Navy SEAL?” I blew out a breath. I wasn’t surprised. Hell, looking at him, how could I be. The man was basically a brick-and-mortar version of every soldier story I ever heard.

  “I finished up my last tour and headed out of the military.”

  “Why?” I couldn’t help the question; it just popped out.

  “Family issue.” He swiped his hand through the air. His attempt at ending the line of questioning. A moment later, my plate with a cheeseburger and an overabundance of fries was placed in front of me.

  “Can I get you folks anything else?” the waitress asked after his plate and the drinks were put on the table.

  Dustan swung his gaze from me to the waitress. “No thanks. Just some privacy.” He gave her a slow wink.

  “Not a problem. Just wave if you need me.” Light pink dusted her cheeks. She patted my shoulder. “A keeper,” she muttered and headed off, leaving me to deal with him on my own.

  “Is there anyone you can’t control?” I asked when she was gone, and he started to cut into his burger.

  He looked up at me with a grin. “Haven’t found a situation yet.”

  I sighed.

  “Eat up, darlin’.” He pointed his knife at my plate. “Five hours before we get to our stopping point for the night, remember. And once we get there, you’re going to need your energy.”