Relentless (9 page)

He brutally ignored his body's protests and finished off all twenty lifts before setting the bar into the holder above his head, his left arm trembling slightly as he did so.

Sitting up, he wiped his face on the towel he'd draped over one shoulder, and stared at his left hand. He turned it over, studying the shape and lines of it. It looked strong enough. Couldn't tell the difference between the left and right just by looking at them, but the remaining strength imbalance was painfully obvious to him. He flexed the fingers experimentally, watching as they curled tight into his palm. Amazing how swelling in the brain could affect the body so much.

You know you'll never be the same. Face it.

Rhys clenched his jaw and adamantly rejected the words in his head. He'd already come a hell of a long way in two short months. Maybe in time he'd regain complete function.

“Thought I might find you here,” said a familiar deep voice.

Rhys looked behind him. Ben stood just inside the doorway of the gym with a chagrined smirk on his face. One of the punk's default expressions. “Hey.”

His brother jerked his cleft chin at him. “You about done?”

“Almost. Wanna join me?”

Ben made a face. “Nah.”

“Why not?” He ran his gaze over his twin. Still incredibly fit, so he had to be getting some sort of regular exercise. “Want to spar instead?”

“Jesus, no, I don't want to spar. I'm hungry, and I just got off a red-eye from Boston. Not everyone is hard core like you.”

“You gonna get all fat and flabby on me?”

“As if.” His jade green eyes twinkled. “I get all the exercise I need at home. And then some.” He waggled his brows.

Rhys cracked a grin. “Bastard. Rub it in.”

“Be happy to. What do you wanna know?”

Shit. “Nothing.” Ben didn't know the meaning of the word ‘boundary.’ Rhys got up and drained the last half of his bottled water. “Luke brief you yet?”

“Just came from his room. He and that Nate guy are trying to crack the sleeper cell using phone records and satellite links to cell phones.”

“Good thing that's part of your specialty.” If it had wiring or a computer chip, Ben could do damn near anything with it. All those misspent years of their youth where Ben had passed the time hacking into computer systems had paid dividends for him as an adult.

Ben snapped his gum, a sure sign something was on his mind. “See Nev yet?”

He hesitated. “Yeah.”

“When?”

“Yesterday. I picked her up from the airport.”

Ben seemed surprised. “How'd she look?”

Delectable. Strong. “Fine. Not traumatized or anything.” At least, not so much the average person would notice. He'd picked up on her hyper-vigilance a couple times, but only because he was aware she had PTSD. In all, she seemed to be handling everything amazingly well.

“Sam's not happy about Nev being here.”

Who was? “Luke's got everything under control. Does Sam know anything?”

Ben wrinkled his nose. “Nah. More of a hunch, I think. She's aware this involves Tehrazzi somehow, but that's as far as it goes.”

And Ben had actually been able to keep the info from her? Unbelievable.

Setting down his water, Rhys wiped the towel over his face and neck. “You going to tell her what's happening?”

His twin gawked at him. “Are you nuts? She's been through more than enough without worrying about Nev. At least with me here she's relaxed a bit.”

“But still worried about you.”

Ben shrugged. “She's seen firsthand what we do. But I've got you here to watch my back.”

Damn straight. “And Luke and Dec.”

His eyes brightened at the latter name. “Irish is here already?”

“Came in yesterday with Nate.”

“Damn, can't wait to see him. What about Bryn?”

“Haven't seen her yet. She's staying with the bride for a few nights.”

Ben frowned. “They've got security there though, right?”

“Oh yeah. You know Dec wouldn't even think of leaving her there without him otherwise.”

The reassurance seemed to appease his brother. “Well? Can you drag your ugly ass into the shower so we can get some breakfast, or do I have to do it for you?”

“Keep it up, punk.”

“I intend to. It's what I live for.”

No shit. “I'm going,” Rhys said, stretching his arms over his head as he stood. “Got a long couple of days ahead of us.” Whatever else happened, they had to make sure Nev and the others stayed safe throughout the weekend. Four days. That's all they needed— four days without incident.

Unfortunately, Rhys knew it might not be as easy as it seemed.

After a morning of meetings with Luke's security team at the church and a good chunk of the afternoon spent at and around the reception site, Rhys started to notice the effects of fatigue on his body.

Little things, like the emphasized hesitation in his right leg. It was more pronounced from climbing up and down staircases and the steep banks surrounding Seasons in the Park restaurant in Queen Elizabeth Park.

Ben shot him a sidelong glance as he drove the Escalade back to their hotel downtown. “You coming to the hockey game with the rest of us?”

“Nah.”

“The Canucks are playing Boston,” he said, as though it would be sacrilegious not to go. “You gotta support the Bruins, man.”

“Can't tonight.” He didn't like hockey anyway, and Ben knew it. His sport allegiance started and finished with the Red Sox, which Ben also knew.

“Don't tell me you're going to the rehearsal dinner?”

Withholding a snort, he shifted against the leather seat, enjoying the luxury of the heater against his back and thighs. “No, Luke said they had plenty of help.” And thank God. A rehearsal dinner was way out of his comfort zone.

His twin's eyes narrowed, and a knowing smile spread across his face. “You're going on a date.”

He had to laugh. “Don't know. Haven't asked her yet.”

“Yeah, but you're gonna. Wow, look at you. Mister Tall-Dark-and-Remote looking for some action with Neveah.”

Rhys rolled his eyes. “It's not like that.”

“No? Then how is it?”

He aimed a hard glare at Ben. “It's just dinner, and don't talk about her like that. She's your future in-law for Christ's sake— show some respect.”

Ben chuckled as he merged onto the Cambie Street Bridge. “Wonder how a surgeon plays doctor,” he mused. “Could be hot.”

He would
not
smile. If he gave the prick that much satisfaction, he'd never hear the end of it. “You're pushing your luck, punk.”

“ ‘Course I am.” Then he shook his head. “You know she's a Yankees fan, right?”

“Is she?” Lucky for him being a BoSox fan wasn't a make or break deal.

“Better think about it before things go too far. It's like sleeping with the enemy.” After a minute, Ben slanted him a sideways glance. “It's driving you fricking mental that you're not behind the wheel right now, isn't it?”

Damn right it was. “Actually, I was just thinking how much I'm enjoying the ride.”

His brother snorted. “Yeah, right.” Then he smiled fondly. “Christ, I've missed needling you.”

Rhys had missed it, too, which was completely messed up. Brotherly banter and talking smack was one thing; it was just that Ben didn't know when to quit.

“So, you gonna call her up, or what?”

“In front of you? Not likely.”

“Aw, come on, give me something. I've got the night off in a strange city, and my fiancee's on the other side of the continent. At least let me in on this.”

“Forget it. You're going to the hockey game.”

Ben threw him a sour look. “You're such a fun-times killer.”

“Well, we can't all be ass-clowns.”

Once he got into their room and Ben headed for the shower, Rhys called Neveah's cell and was surprised when she answered. “Hi, it's Rhys.”

“I know, I have call display. And even if I didn't, I'd recognize your voice anywhere. How did your day go?”

An image of her bright smile took over his brain, along with a wave of relief that she sounded glad to hear from him. “Fine.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “So... Are you still free tonight, or do you have to be somewhere?”

“I stayed to schmooze through a happy hour, so I'm free if I want to be. Why, what did you have in mind?”

He smiled at the hint of challenge in her tone. “Feel like having dinner?”

“Just us?”

“Yeah.”

“Absolutely.”

Tension he hadn't even realized he was holding melted out of his shoulders. “Do you like Italian?”

“It's my favorite.”

His, too. “Then I'll pick you up at seven.”

“Sure. Want me to meet you in the lobby?”

“No.” Call him old-fashioned, but he believed in picking up a date at her door and returning her to it when the night was over. Add in the fact she might be at risk for another kidnapping attempt or worse, and there was no way in hell he'd let her wait around an open lobby for him. “I'll come up and get you.”

When they said goodbye, he flipped his phone shut and stared at it with a thoughtful frown. The buzz of anticipation inside him was something he only experienced before an op. The stirrings of excitement inside him felt strange. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt like this about anything, other than leaving the hospital. Damn, he was really looking forward to this, wasn't he?

Without tipping Ben off that anything was up when he walked past, he went into the bathroom and started the shower. Pausing in front of the mirror, he angled his head so he could see the scars on the right side. They weren't as visible as they had been. No one could tell by looking that a metal plate held his skull together. Once his hair got a little longer, he'd almost look normal again.

But you'll never be normal again.

Shoving the negative thought out of his mind, he stepped under the hard spray and scrubbed himself. His hand swept the soap over his chest and back, where the burn scars covered his skin, and thought of Neveah. Her hands had tended to him, first in the field, and later at the hospital in the operating room. That increasingly familiar pang of gratitude and longing started up again. The tangle of emotions he felt whenever he thought of her confused him, but he couldn't wait to see her again and looked forward to spending more time with her over dinner.

Rhys turned off the shower and grabbed a towel to dry off, rubbing a corner of it over the steamy mirror. When he pulled back and caught sight of his reflection in the circle he'd made, he stopped cold. He was smiling. For no other reason than he had a date with Neveah.

Staring into his own eyes, the smile broadened until the corners of his eyes crinkled. He looked... happy.

Goddamn. He really was back from the dead.

Two hours after sunset, Ahmed pulled into the parking lot for the Stanley Park train and killed the engine. The sudden silence filled him with dread. He stared out the windshield at the people busily stringing miles of brightly colored lights and putting up displays of holiday decorations for the Bright Nights celebration due to open in the next few days. The firefighters put it on each year to raise money for burn camp. He'd taken his wife on opening night the past three years, and donated money to the fund.

Such a model citizen you are
, a caustic voice in his head purred.

He wiped his damp palms over his wool trousers before pulling on lined gloves and exiting his vehicle. Canada geese honked overhead, winging their way south in a V formation. The stiff breeze, scented with cedar, rose up to pluck at his heavy wool pea coat and he hunched deeper under the collar to shut it out.

It wasn't the temperature or even the wind that made it so damn cold, it was the constant dampness. The chill of the moisture laden air seemed to seep into your bones, making it feel much colder than it really was.

To help disguise his face as he passed by the entrance, he pulled the collar up further on his way to the trails across the road that wound through the heart of the park.

His cell phone lay in his left pocket, within easy reach should it buzz, but he hoped it wouldn't. He had enough to worry about right now without receiving another call from Tehrazzi. For starters, this clandestine meeting he'd set up.

The soft treads of his shoes on the loamy path and the wind in the trees were all that disturbed the silence as he slipped into the forest. Cedars and Douglas firs towered overhead, their dense evergreen branches moving in the wind like arms, beckoning him deeper into their shadowy embrace. A shroud of fog hovered above the damp forest floor, obscuring whatever lay ahead of him. Shoving his hands deeper into his pockets, he pressed on despite the growing sense of dread.

Never in his wildest dreams would he have imagined he would be involved in something like this. Meeting a self-proclaimed assassin in the middle of the woods in November. Like something out of a movie.

A branch snapped under his foot, making his heart jump. He paused a moment and listened for any noise that might alert him to the fact that he'd been followed, but heard nothing. Moving deeper into the dense network of trees, the uneasiness intensified.

What if this whole thing was a set up?

The assassin had agreed to the meeting over the phone, but who was to say they weren't an undercover officer looking to make a bust on their little group? And Ahmed couldn't rule out the possibility that his contact wouldn't shoot him dead out here and leave him for the scavenging animals living in the park.

The man had come highly recommended from someone in Ahmed's circle at the mosque, but Ahmed wouldn't be disappointed if he didn't show.

The guilt was already eating at him. He'd seen Doctor Adams today in the flesh, and had looked into her pretty blue eyes. She'd survived horrors he didn't even want to imagine, and yet here he was, meeting with someone he had hired to kill her.

“That's close enough.”

He gasped and froze, glancing about for the owner of the voice. Only swirling fog met his eyes.

“Put your hands where I can see them.”

“I— I'm unarmed,” he stuttered, half expecting a bullet to hit him.

“Show me.”

Slowly, his stomach drawing tight, Ahmed raised his hands and held them above his head. This was it. His contact would either shoot him, or get on with the transaction.