Thrill Ride (26 page)

It made Rock sick. His role in her deranged logic made him sick.

“What money?” he asked, having to swallow the bile that climbed up the back of his throat.

“My partner,” she frowned, “the man at the CIA who found the targets for The Project, signed on to help not because he believed in our cause.” And the way she used the word “our” made Rock want to vomit. “But because he wanted the money from the illegal accounts these terrible men had squirreled away. I agreed, of course, because I needed the intelligence he could gather, but I never thought to take a penny until Marcus needed a little extra to run a television ad campaign.”

And, suddenly, the picture, the whole sordid mess of it, was clear. “And Billingsworth discovered the questionable origins of this money used to bolster your husband’s campaign, which would’ve eventually led him to The Project, so you had him killed.”

“He was going to wreck
everything
!” she lamented. “I couldn’t let that happen. You can understand that, can’t you?”

The woman was a serious piece of work. That she could be a practicing psychiatrist was almost too terrifying to contemplate.

“Can’t you see,” she went on, “that his life was nothing when compared to the lives we saved by getting rid of the type of men who killed your parents, Jonathan’s wife and daughter,” she let her eyes slide to the man in question, “and my brother?”

And, yes, Rock had discovered what he’d assumed had been the impetuous behind her penning that thesis all those years ago. It had to do with her twin brother. Apparently, he’d been caught sleeping with a local drug kingpin’s mistress, and the kingpin had the guy shot in the head. But, like most kingpins, the dirty work was done by someone else, so he never received so much as a minute in jail.

Rock remembered that drug kingpin very clearly since he was the first target Rock ever interrogated. Rodrigo Vasquez.

“But he was an innocent man,” Vanessa whispered, obviously no longer able to hold her tongue. But her hand? God love the woman, she still had it pressed against the small of his back. A tiny, warm touch of assurance despite everything she was learning about him and the truth of his second job.

“It was the only way,” Donna Ward explained.

Dunn lunged, and had Steady not been standing directly behind the man, Rock had no doubt the guy would’ve gone for Donna Ward’s throat. As it was, Steady managed to hook both hands around Dunn’s shoulders, wrestling him back toward the bathroom’s door with Dunn yelling hoarsely, “You turned me into a murderer. A murderer!”

“That’s enough,” Rock said, reaching into his tuxedo jacket to click off the recorder he’d stored there. “We have everything we need.”

“What the hell are we going to do with her?” Ozzie asked. “We can’t let her go and then confront her boss like we’d planned. The crazy bitch doesn’t
have
a boss.”

“I’m not crazy,” Donna Ward insisted, the wild look in her eyes proving her words false. “I’m not—”

Boss slapped a hand over her mouth again.

“We take her with us and turn her over to General Fuller,” Steady announced, and Rock disliked that option with every fiber of his being, but he knew it was the only one that was viable, proven by Steady’s next words. “We don’t know who her accomplice in the CIA is. We don’t know what she’s capable of doing if we release her. Not to mention the fact she’d probably go to ground like wounded rabbit. No. We have to take her.”

Rock knew Steady was right, and now Donna Ward was struggling in Boss’s grasp again, her eyes rolling around like pinballs.

“What about the local authorities?” Eve asked quietly, and Rock would be forever grateful to her for getting them into the fundraiser. This mission would’ve been far more difficult, their ability to maneuver through the hotel nearly impossible, if not for the security badges now clipped to their clothing. “Couldn’t you just hand her over to them along with that tape you made?”

Boss answered for Rock. “The local authorities wouldn’t know how to make hide nor hair of all this. Plus, it started with a treasonous idea within the CIA, and those folks are known for covering their tracks. So, since we don’t know who her accomplice is, and unless we want Rock and Dunn to find themselves food for the fishes at the bottom of Lake Michigan, it’s better we take this all the way to the top.” He turned to Rock, “I’ll call General Fuller and tell him you’re coming.”

Rock nodded, a hard knot of regret vying for space in his chest beside the hard knot of remorse.

“Hallway’s clear out to the alley exit,” Ghost announced from his position by the bathroom door. “If we’re doin’ this thing, the time is now.”

Rock glanced at the crowd gathered in the chopper shop, looking so incongruent in their fancy eveningwear against all the heavy machinery, and he felt like he’d just come back from one of those ball-busting, seventy-two-hour insertions into the mountains of the Hindu Kush. The ones he’d done back when he’d been with the SEALs and one of his many suck-ass jobs requiring him to scour caves and bunkers looking for Taliban insurgents.

He was body-weary from too much adrenaline coursing through his system and mind-weary because Donna Ward’s interrogation was the most disturbing of his life. You know, considering her revelations meant everything he’d always thought of himself, the man he was and the jobs he’d done, were all a big stinking pile of hogwash.

Or, maybe he could look at the bright side, in that her interrogation was very likely the
last
interrogation he’d ever have to do. Because for the last five years, he’d unknowingly been involved in illegal, non-government sanctioned activities, and he was going to have to pay for that. One way or another…

“You have everything you need?” Boss asked, his face lined with concern.

“
Oui
,” Rock nodded, looking over at Dunn who was sitting on the metal steps leading to the second floor. He and Rock were the only ones who’d changed out of their fancy duds. The reason being their plan was for Dunn to drive Donna Ward back to DC in his Explorer while Rock rode behind on Patriot, and tuxedos weren’t necessarily conducive to either task. “You sure you’re okay with these arrangements, man?” he asked Dunn. “‘Cause I could always ride with you instead—”

“No way.” Dunn shook his head. “I’ve got some phone calls to make, some arrangements to take care of. And this way you’ll get in one last ride.”

Rock nodded again, thanking the man with his eyes. He respected the shit out of the guy for doing this, for turning himself in. Because the consequences Dunn stood to face were far more severe than the consequences Rock stood to face. Dunn
had
been the one to do the actual killing after all…

“You sure that’s a wise move?” Boss interrupted. “The Feds are going to be scouring the entire country soon, looking for Dr. Ward. We could always have Fuller fly here.”

Rock shook his head. “Dunn’s windows are tinted, and everyone not only thinks I’m dead, but
graveyard
dead, so it’s not like there’s an APB out on me or anything. I’d really like to take this last ride, Boss. There’s no tellin’—”

“Wait a minute,” Vanessa interrupted, her dark eyes wide. “What are you talking about when you say
one
last
ride
? Surely you don’t think you’ll be held responsible for any of this. You were duped.” She swung around to Dunn. “You both were.”

“Doesn’t matter what we
thought
,” Dunn said, not looking at Vanessa, but staring straight at Rock. His eyes shone with bone-deep sadness, and Rock ached for the guy. For what Donna Ward had turned him into. Rock’s heart was an anchor in the center of his chest. “Ignorance isn’t an excuse,” Dunn finished. And wasn’t that the truth? They
should
have asked more questions. But shoulda, woulda, coulda, it was all a done deal now.

“Boss…” he turned, and the torment on his old friend’s face wrecked him. He wished like hell he didn’t have to put the man through this and, more than that, he wished he hadn’t put this black spot on the reputation of Black Knights Inc. But there was no going back to erase the past. So the most he could hope to accomplish was to do the right thing for BKI’s future. “I’d like you to give us about eleven hours to make the drive. And then I’d like you to call Fuller. Tell him to meet me at the old spot down by the Potomac.” The little, rural shack by the river where he and Boss had first run the idea for Black Knights Inc. by the general. “Can you do that?”

“You know I can,” Boss said, a hard muscle ticking in his jaw. “But I wish there was another way.”

“There’s not. You know there’s not,
mon
frere
.”

Boss jerked his chin, once, the big guy’s eyes overly bright. And,
mon
dieu
, Rock was having a hard enough time keeping his shit together as it was. Seeing Boss losing it, even a little, was a steel-fisted blow straight to the gut.

“Wait!” Vanessa yelled, panic in her voice, her eyes frantic. “Wait! What are you guys saying? Are you saying you’re going to prison for this? No!” She adamantly shook her head. “No! It’s not right! It’s not fair!”

Ah,
chere
, there’s my proud, dauntless lioness…

“Surely you know by now,
mon
ange
,” he murmured holding her gaze, “there’s nothing fair in this ol’ life.” He was so goddamned sorry…about everything.

“Rock,” she ran to him, the anguish on her pretty face breaking his fucking heart. “Richard,” she pleaded once she reached him, laying a beseeching hand on his arm, and that just made it all so much worse. “You don’t have to do this. They think you’re dead. You could just stay dead,” she was panting, her voice unusually high. And it was obvious she’d forgotten they had an audience. The Knights were looking on with various expressions of discomfort and heartache, but Rock didn’t care. His only thought was to soothe the woman standing in front of him. “You could get a new name. Move to a different country. I’ll come with you.” Oh, sweet Jesus, she was killing him. “I’ll change my name, too. There’s nothing to keep me here. No parents. My aunt died last year. We can—”

“Stop it,
chere
,” he grabbed her upper arms, giving her a gentle shake. And it only managed to cause the tears that’d been standing in her eyes to spill over and slide down her soft cheeks. “This has to be done.”

“No,” she shook her head, her shiny, black hair brushing her shoulders. “No it doesn’t. You could just run. Run
away
, Rock—”

“That’s not the honorable thing to do.”

“Screw honor!” she wailed, now crying in earnest. “What about
life
? We could have a life together. You and I. I love you, Rock!” She threw her arms around his neck and—
oh, dieu—
suddenly she wasn’t the only one crying. One mutinous tear slipped from his right eye, slid down his cheek and landed in her hair where her head was tucked up under his chin. She loved him. It was what he’d been afraid of and maybe secretly yearning for all along…

Dunn pushed up from the stairs and strolled toward his vehicle parked just inside the shop—Donna Ward was already tied up in the backseat—and the Knights began to move toward the stairs, trying to be inconspicuous about quitting the scene in order to give him and Vanessa some privacy. But Rock caught Boss’s eye, subtly shaking his head and making his intent clear.

Stay,
mon ami.
I need your help.

Boss nodded and hung back by the stairs as the rest of the Knights disappeared onto the second-floor landing.

Rock gave himself a moment…just one moment to hold Vanessa close, to drink in the minty-sweet smell of her, to press her warmth and lushness and, yes,
love
against his heart. Then he did what he had to do. For himself, for his sanity, but mostly for her wonderful, brave, far-too-open-and-giving heart. He couldn’t do this knowing she’d mourn for him, for his loss, the way he’d mourned for Lacy. He had to make sure if she had any pain at all, it was as quick and as insignificant as he could make it.

So, grabbing her shoulders, he softly pushed her away. Her face was a mess: red, blotchy, covered in tears, and so goddamned beautiful it nearly brought him to his knees. “You know what I told you out in the jungle,” he said, making sure his tone was kind but also hard and immovable. “That hasn’t changed.”

“Don’t say that,” she shook her head, sniffling. “You don’t mean it. Not after last night. Not after we—”

“I
do
mean it,” he insisted quietly but firmly. Still, her next words told him she wasn’t really listening.

“They won’t be able to put you away for very long,” she said, wiping a shaky hand over her wet cheeks. “You didn’t do the killing. You just did the interrogating. So, what can they charge you with? False imprisonment? Surely you’ll be out in a few years, and I’ll be here waiting on you. I’ll be here—”

“Vanessa,” he gave her another little shake, the air in his lungs on fire. Because even if he
had
changed his mind, even if he
had
done something colossally stupid and allowed himself to fall for her, there was nothing to be done for it now. She couldn’t spend her life waiting on him. She had to go on living. She wanted a family, a husband and children. And there was no way he could give her those things. Not now. So he gave her what he could…

He gave her her freedom.

“I don’t love you,” he said, lowering his chin and holding her watery gaze, knowing his own was probably just as watery. “I don’t love you, you hear me? So there’s no use in you waitin’ on me. You need to move on. Find someone else.”

But even contemplating the thought cut him to the bone.

“No,” she shook her head, hiccupping, her voice rising in a wail. “I don’t believe you! You’re lying!”

He looked over at Boss. The man’s face was the picture of sorrow, but he nodded and jogged over to them, gently taking Vanessa from his arms. It took everything Rock had to let her go.

“No!” she screamed. “Don’t do this, Rock!”

And he had to get out of there before he did something completely stupid, before he did something completely undignified and unethical and took her up on her offer to just run away. Fred Billingsworth’s true murderer needed to be brought to justice, and he and Dunn were the only men who could do it.

“No, Rock!” Vanessa wailed, but he couldn’t stay a second longer or he didn’t know if he’d be able to make himself leave at all.

Jogging over to Patriot, he grabbed his leather jacket from where it lay over the seat. The back patch read
Black
Knights
Incorporated: May the Road Never End…
A hard lump formed in his throat. Today was going to be his last day as a Knight. And tomorrow? Well, tomorrow he highly suspected his road was going to end…at least for a good, long while.

Shrugging into the jacket, he threw a leg over the bike and unhooked his helmet from the handlebar. Unfortunately, shoving the helmet over his head did nothing to drown out Vanessa’s cries. And each tearful wail, each begging plea not to go, was a razor-sharp arrow to his heart.

This was slaying him.
She
was slaying him.

Pushing the button on the hydraulics, Patriot lifted to riding height, but before he started the engine, he glanced over at Boss. “It’s been an honor,
mon
ami
,” he said, placing his hand over his thundering heart.

Boss dipped his chin, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “The honor has been mine, my friend.”

Rock nodded and tried to ignore the fact that the foundation of his life was cracking and crumbling beneath him. Then he let his gaze linger on Vanessa, fighting like a tigress, struggling in the big man’s grip to no avail.

“
Chere
,” he said, and she stopped squirming, looking up at him with puffy, pleading eyes, chest rising and falling rapidly. “Live your life. Live a
good
life. And know that I’ll always cherish the time we had.”

And before she could answer, he turned away, cranking over Patriot’s big engine while simultaneously pushing the button on the handlebars that activated the huge garage door. It rolled up. It’s loud whir barely discernible over Patriot’s throaty grumble.

Without a backward glance—he couldn’t bear to see everything he was leaving behind—he followed Dunn’s SUV and motored out of the shop, away from the past he’d grown to love, and off to put himself into the hands of some of the very people who’d tried to kill him.