Redeem My Heart (5 page)

R
yland preferred to be the driver, but Fallon had held fast to the keys. He didn’t argue, wanting to see just how far she’d take the position of being his savior. He’d been a gentleman and given her fair warning. That’s as far as he’d go down that particular road. He’d fuck her the first chance he got now, both of them knowing where the other stood in that respect.

Fallon had driven the six hours north toward the Hamptons, stopping only once for gas. She made the trip without making one phone call or looking at the texts he was well aware she was receiving. The small repetitive vibrations that were coming from her jacket were faint, but they were there all the same. He didn’t bother looking in the side mirror to see if anyone was following them. There was probably a small caravan by now.

Fallon had it covered, but it wouldn’t be long before they were found by anyone actually missing the road trip. There were too many agencies worried about his real time whereabouts for them to be able to travel without company. The only way to dispose of that concern was to eliminate him, but every one of them understood he had multiple fail safe procedures in place should he be unceremoniously terminated. It was nice to have some sense of control while on his recent sabbatical, if not his retirement.

“My parents’ house is up ahead,” Fallon said, breaking the silence. She glanced his way but he never took his eyes from the road. The wind had picked up, but it was barely noticeable in the black BMW 760Li luxury sedan she drove. It took the winding curves like it was on rails. Ryland doubted that she was aware he knew this area well, having brought Yvette here a time or two during her initial training. Some might say it was heartless to bring his stepsister into the life he led, but it served two very distinct purposes. One, it had been the only surefire way of getting her away from the monster who had called himself their stepfather. Two, it had provided her the ability to stand on her own two feet and stop being the victim she’d become at the hands of that degenerate pedophile. Yvette had eventually gone back and taken care of the problem, serving up her own brand of well-deserved justice. He ran his tongue against the roof of his mouth, trying to dislodge the bad taste. “Once we’re situated there are some developments I’d like to go over with you.”

Now that statement intrigued him. Whatever it was that Fallon was holding back had to have taken place before her middle of the night visit. It was now late morning, so it couldn’t have been too pressing. He didn’t bother to respond and it wasn’t long before she pulled up to a ten-foot wrought iron gate. A large brick-enclosed pedestal gave them access to a control panel conveniently situated at window height. She waved her hand and triggered the motion-activated sensor allowing her to enter the correct code, which he instantly memorized.

The entrance was quite impressive for a summer home. As they idled past the empty gatehouse, he surveyed their surroundings on the other side of the grand security façade. Any determined team of skilled operators could gain access to this place quicker than they had themselves. In reality, the grandiose brickwork guardhouse served them only by keeping out pesky solicitors.

The grounds were immaculate. The green blades of grass appeared to have been measured to the exact centimeter in height and clipped with a pair of cuticle scissors. The trees were perfectly molded and the landscape was pristine. Cold weather might have just settled in, but the lush scenery had yet to be told.

It was clear that the nearby shoreline was located fairly close behind the sprawling mansion and the distant sound of waves crashing traveled through Fallon’s open window. The cool bite of the salt air surrounded them as she slowly drove up the lane.

Ryland was surprised at the affluent home that was positioned squarely in the middle of the property. Enclosed by high wrought iron security fences on at least three sides, it boasted clear open approaches that could be easily surveyed. He’d had Fallon thoroughly investigated when she’d gotten involved with CSA, wanting to know exactly who he was dealing with in regards to the federal contractor whom Gavin Crest had hired. She’d intrigued him from the beginning, but there had been nothing in her files to suggest this type of wealth or their need for in-depth security measures that were evident in the layout of this retreat.

“My grandmother married into railroad money with her second marriage. She passed away around a year ago, leaving this residence to my parents and a rather large trust fund for me since I was her only grandchild.” Fallon glided the car to a stop in front of the expansive porch with four tall brick arches capped by enormous limestone keystones. “There isn’t any staff at the present due to the time of the year. There is the caretaker and his wife. They have a small cottage up by the gate. There’s a lane behind the gatehouse that leads to their place. The fact that we’ll be alone works in our favor, don’t you agree?”

“Do your parents know you’re up at their lovely summer home with a guest?” Ryland asked, not yet exiting the vehicle. He was still studying his surroundings and getting the layout of the area should the need arise. The security cameras were well positioned and one currently shifted to their location. They weren’t alone and he wondered who Fallon had here with her. “Any other family members likely to drop by unannounced?”

“No.” Fallon turned the key in the ignition, shutting off the engine. She shifted in her seat, resting her back against the door as she twirled the keys in her hands. She still didn’t seem to be in a rush to check her phone. “This is what is going to take place. We’re going to stay here, out of the eyes and ears of every agency you’ve managed to gain attention from, while I investigate E.D.A. through various other means. Trevor Neoni is the sole reason this was even brought to our attention. He made a mistake and was captured by the FBI and was subsequently interrogated by various agencies. I combed through the interrogations and he either slipped up or intentionally divulged information for unknown reasons. I’ve turned everything over to Special Agent Quaid and he now thinks I’ve washed my hands of the whole affair. I don’t know if I can trust him, which is why I turned to Crest. There has to be a thread that can lead us to the person responsible for Neoni’s disclosure during that rather odd Agency interrogation prior to his death.”

Ryland smiled as Fallon revealed the reason she’d come to him to begin with. Trevor Neoni, an assassin for hire who’d been mediocre at best. Ryland had personally seen to it that the man had met his ultimate fate. He’d always been a liability and it was no loss to the vocation. It would have been only been a matter of time before one of the various regimes had eliminated that ticking time bomb.

“Let me guess,” Ryland said, opening the door and setting one leg out of the opening to place his foot on the pea gravel. He was a tall man and being contained wasn’t conducive to comfort. He unfolded his frame, taking his time before resting his forearm against the structure of the door and glancing back inside so he could see Fallon’s expression. “Neoni made up some story about an organization that was pulling the strings and a paper pushing Agency administrator fell for it. Far be it from me to tell you how to do your job, but men like him don’t last long in my line of work. Not at least at my level. He was careless and it was only a matter of time before he was removed. I did potential future contractors a favor.”

Ryland closed the door and made his way around the front of the vehicle, noticing her surprise when he opened her door. He’d always prided himself on being a gentleman in a strange sort of fashion. Being a killer for hire didn’t mean he had to behave like a barbarian. He waited patiently while Fallon got out of the car, her guarded eyes apparently waiting for him to say or do something that would contradict his actions. She was wary of him, he’d give her that. She’d yet to even glance at the house, trying hard not to give away the fact that someone was positioned inside.

“Would men in your line of work make that kind of mistake?”

Fallon pressed the button on the key fob to open the trunk. She hadn’t stepped far enough away for Ryland to close the door, so he took advantage of her position by taking one step closer. The sweet scent of her Chanel perfume was faint, but enough that he’d like to know exactly where she’d caressed the cologne onto her soft skin. Her unwavering, questioning gaze brought his mind back to the conversation at hand.

“Neoni was beyond arrogant and would have spewed anything that his captors wanted to hear, especially during a chemically enhanced interrogation where the lines become blurred. There are no set rules for this life,” Ryland said, stroking the back of his finger along the soft curve of Fallon’s jawline. He admired that she stood her ground and waited for an answer when it was evident his touch awakened something frightening inside of her. Her pupils dilated and the pulse demonstrated by the exposed artery in her delicate neck accelerated, causing him to wonder about the heights he could take them both on. “I’m the perfect example. I provide a service to various friendly governments and yet my own—the very one that recruited me in the first place—forced me to retire. Why? Because their own mid-level management didn’t have enough oversight and turned rogue. Now here I am with a very beautiful federal special agent who believes redemption and forgiveness are possible for a man who doesn’t want those ethereal illusions.”

“My profile is the reason you’re here.” Fallon tilted her head as if she were questioning his feelings on the subject. Did she think he harbored resentment? “I informed Crest and his team of my conclusions that you wouldn’t allow Yvette to be buried without making an appearance at the gravesite. I’m partly responsible for guiding CSA in their quest to stop you, which they have effectively done. I won’t walk away from this until I know that I’ve exhausted every resource in discovering if someone forced your hand—covered in blood as they may be.”

Ryland stared at Fallon with mild curiosity. How was it that this seasoned veteran of the federal government—a woman who wasn’t naïve to the evils of man—could possibly believe such a fairy tale?

“You’ll be disappointed, my little redeemer.” Ryland straightened his posture as an unusual despondency settled over him. He truly didn’t want to see Fallon get hurt by this fixation of hers that someone else was responsible for his actions. He longed to be gone before she realized just how wrong she was. “My hands will forever be stained with the wages of my own sin. Judas had his thirty pieces of silver and I have my bricks of gold. There will be no salvation for either of our eternal sins.”

Ryland didn’t wait for her to reply to his statement. Facts were facts and she couldn’t rewrite history. He walked to the open trunk and pulled out the three bags he’d brought with him, having noticed that she was without luggage. He assumed that she had things here, but then again he could be wrong. She might be leaving him under the watch of whoever was inside the house to go on this impossible quest. He latched the trunk, watching the automatic closure pulling it tight. He looked up to find that she was waiting for him.

They walked in silence up the impressive slabs of quarried limestone steps. Fallon didn’t need to unlock the front door, verifying that an occupant was inside and waiting on them. It couldn’t be anyone that she worked with regularly, especially considering that she didn’t trust her own department supervisor. It could be a reliable co-worker, but that was highly doubtful as well considering they would both have had to come up with a plausible explanation for their leave of absence during the same period. Fallon had a legitimate excuse, courtesy of Gavin Crest. Ryland wasn’t surprised in the least to find the man himself waiting for them inside the entryway.

“I recall a promise made by you, if I’m not mistaken.” Ryland carefully set his belongings in the hallway, wanting his hands free should he need to reach for his carry weapon. Crest’s parting words regarding what would happen the next time they met resonated through Ryland’s mind. The former Marine had already proven that he wouldn’t hesitate to shoot in any given situation. The scar on Ryland’s upper thigh was proof of that. “You’re a man of your word, but I didn’t expect you to sink to a level where it was an uneven match.”

“Don’t give me a motive to go through with it.” Crest eyed Ryland over the rim of a white ceramic mug. He’d shed his suit jacket and currently had the cuffs of his starched dress shirt rolled back. His weapon sat securely in the shoulder holster and Ryland allowed a bit of tension to release from his posture. Crest’s line of vision drifted to his left and a small smile formed on his mouth. “I don’t think it’s me you need to be worried about at the moment.”

Jax Christensen sat stiffly on the couch, his irate stare letting Ryland know just how well he was liked. Wasn’t this just a grand reunion of brothers in arms? The blond haired male still held a grudge over the contract on his wife’s life. Ryland wasn’t responsible for initiating the directive, although he had absolutely planned to carry it out. The general contractor on that project had been eliminated, so there technically shouldn’t be any hard feelings over a voided agreement. It was more than apparent that Jax disagreed.