Relentless

by Sybil Bartel

  I picked the note up.

  Hiya neighbor,

  Hope you don’t mind, but I took some liberties with the place. It looked so bare after them fellas brought your new couches, I added a few finishing touches with some stuff we had lying around. Can’t have a proper bed without linens, boy. Didn’t your mama teach you that? Anyhoo, house seems like it’s coming along. Looking forward to having a neighbor again in these parts.

  -Hattie, and Jim too, but he done wait outside while I fixed the place up, so really it was me.

  PS: Left a bite to eat in the fridge. Don’t let it go to waste. And get yourself some horses. Them stables are lonely.

  Shaking my head, I smiled as I set down the note and opened the fridge.

  A loaf of homemade bread, butter, a basket of strawberries, and a pitcher of lemonade—damn.

  “Hungry?” I turned to Fallon.

  Standing in the middle of the living room with her arms even tighter around herself, her eyes darted around the room. “I would like to go home.” She lowered her voice. “Please.”

  Keeping my tone even, I chose my words. “As soon as we know it’s safe, I’ll take you myself.”

  “I can’t be here.”

  Anger flared because I knew it was me she didn’t want to be around, but I kept it cordial, because I had no one to blame except myself. “I’m sorry, darlin’. It is what it is right now.”

  “Take me home. Put a guard outside, do whatever you have to do, or whatever Leo wants done if he’s footing the bill, but I need to leave.”

  Watching her get more upset by the second, I didn’t know what the fuck to do without being able to touch her. Not to mention, I wanted to remind her exactly who she was talking to. I wasn’t her damn prick of an ex, and unlike that asshole, I was here and he wasn’t.

  “Amherst isn’t paying the bill.” Not for me, and not for this. “You’re here because I brought you where I knew I could keep you safe.”

  Red rimmed and desperate, her green-eyed gaze met mine. “Please,” she whispered. “I can’t be here.”

  COUNTRY, QUAINT, A HAND-STITCHED QUILT on the bed. He swamped the small apartment with his size alone, but the look in his eyes when he stared at me?

  I needed to get out of here.

  I didn’t care about guns or motorcycles or danger or where Summer was—I was a horrible person, but I couldn’t do this.

  I couldn’t be here with the boy I’d given a stuffed dolphin to.

  “Please,” I begged. “I can’t be here.” Not with him.

  His clear blue eyes, like the sky in Marstrand in winter, took me in and gave me back compassion but no sympathy. “Come on, darlin’, let’s sit. Talon will be here soon.”

  “I’m fine. I don’t need medical attention.” I needed to get away from him before I forgot every reason why I needed to stay away from him.

  He nodded like he was agreeing with me, but he didn’t budge. “I understand, but for my peace of mind, we’re gonna have Talon check you out.”

  I glanced at the single bedroom with the single king-sized bed. “You intended for us to stay here tonight?”

  Studying me, his expression didn’t change, but his shoulders tensed and his voice came out monotone. “I’ll sleep on the couch, Fallon.”

  “I…” Damn it. I didn’t want to make him angry. Despite him lying to me, my traitorous heart and body remembered every second of him from last night.

  Not knowing what else to say, I turned away from him. Maybe Talon would take me home. Because that was about all I had for options right now, him or Leo, and I was never calling Leo again. Even thinking about him made me feel like I was cheating on the memory of last night.

  “Look,” Thomas began as the air shifted at my back and the heady scent of his cologne came closer. “I’m not trying to piss you off or make you any more uncomfortable than you already are.” He inhaled, and his body heat spread across my back. “I’m not a complete asshole, sweetheart. I know you don’t want to be here. I know you’re hurting and you’re spitting mad at me, and rightfully so.” His voice dropped. “I fucked up.” His hand gently took my arm, and he turned me to face him.

  My breath hitched at the barely there contact, and my nerves jumped in anticipation of more.

  I didn’t look up. I couldn’t.

  If I did, I was afraid I would fall into him like a lifeline for every wrong in my life, but I couldn’t forget he was a part of that wrong.

  As if knowing I wouldn’t do it on my own, his knuckle caught my chin and he tipped my face up. “Please,” he quietly begged. “Forgive me.”

  A loud knock sounded. “Yo, Tripod, you up here?”

  “Please,” he whispered before dropping his hand and stepping back. “Coming,” he called as he turned toward a different door than the one we’d used and opened it.

  The man from the club who was with André Luna stood on the landing holding a black bag with a red cross on it. “What up, Tripod?” He grinned at Thomas, then he glanced at me and his smile dropped. “How you doin’, darlin’?” In less than half a second, his measured gaze took me in. “Lookin’ a little better than last time I saw you.” He stepped inside, moving past Thomas.

  I backed up a step. “I’m fine. I don’t need anything.” Except to leave.

  As if he’d seen it all, as if he knew I wanted to make a run for the door Thomas was closing, Talon’s cursory glance around the apartment took in every single thing, visible and not visible but tangible. “Tripod,” he called over his shoulder, his eyes on me. “Shade was behind me. Go meet him and give him a rundown of what you want covered.”

  “It’ll wait.” Thomas locked the door.

  Talon turned to face him. “Not a request, Marine.”

  Thomas’s entire posture stiffened. “I’m not leaving her alone.”

  Talon didn’t budge. “I’m not havin’ this conversation. Give us ten minutes.”

  Thomas looked from Talon to me.

  “Now,” Talon added.

  His eyes on me, Thomas ignored Talon. “You okay with that?”

  I wasn’t okay with any of it, but I nodded.

  Still staring at me for a long moment, Thomas finally lifted his chin once in acknowledgement. “I’ll be right outside if you need me.” Giving Talon a look that was all warning, he went out the same door Talon had come in.

  Talon smiled at me, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “You feelin’ better?”

  “You have an accent like Thomas,” I blurted.

  “He from Texas?” Talon asked casually as he put his bag on the coffee table and opened it.

  “He is.”

  “He told you that?”

  Heat touched my cheeks. “Yes.”

  Talon pulled out a small blood pressure cuff, the kind that goes on your wrist. “Tripod’s not known for sharing his past.” Sitting on the coffee table, he tipped his chin at the couch. “Have a seat, darlin’.”

  Sitting, I crossed my ankles.

  Talon took my left wrist and fit the cuff over it before placing my arm against my chest. “Uncross your legs,” he commanded absently, hitting a button on the device.

  The cuff swelled and bit off my circulation. A few seconds later, it released and I exhaled.

  Talon glanced at the readout. Without a word, he tossed the device back in the bag, leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees.

  Then he stared at me.

  I crossed my ankles. “What was it?”

  “High.”

  He had green eyes. They were pretty. In fact, if you took apart all of his features, he was handsome, but for some reason, when you put them all together, he was… more hardened than Thomas.

  His eyes still on mine, Talon didn’t waver in his steadfast stare. “You want to tell me what’s goin’ on? When I saw you at the club, you looked about ready to drop. Clutching your heart, you had me concerned enough to tell Knight to take you in.” He laced his fingers. “But I’ve made a couple calls since then. Talked to your ex. You
got no medical history to speak of, healthy as a horse. Except he did mention one thing.”

  Anger flared. “I do not have a relationship with my ex-husband. He is not the keeper of my medical issues, if I had any.”

  “So you don’t suffer from anxiety?”

  The way he said it, I wanted to lash out at him. “That’s none of your business.”

  “It is when I’m the one sittin’ here sportin’ a medical bag of tricks.”

  I looked away. “Your point?”

  “You okay?” he asked sincerely.

  “I’m fine.”

  “If Summer was my daughter, I wouldn’t be fine.”

  “Then lucky for her, she’s not yours,” I clipped.

  He didn’t react. “You got a thing goin’ with Knight?”

  I gritted my teeth. “No.”

  “You lyin’?”

  “No.”

  “So you okay stayin’ here with him?”

  Shit. Shit. “Do I have a choice? Men with guns are apparently after me.”

  “Nothin’ apparent about it. Two dead bodies in Miami General’s parkin’ lot, another at the club, another in the wind—I’d say you’re lucky I’m not stitchin’ you up right now.”

  “Like you stitched Summer up?”

  “Like I stitched Summer up.” He nodded.

  Clasping my hands, I fought for control—of my emotions, my temper, my traitorous heart, my breathing, everything. Inhaling, I reached for manners. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. Your chest still hurtin’?”

  “No.”

  “Short of breath?”

  “No.”

  “Nauseous, sweatin’, lightheaded?”

  “No, I’m fine,” I lied. I may never be fine again. Fine was not knowing what a man like Thomas Knight felt like when he was inside you, or smiling at you, or looking at you with reverence. Fine was never knowing any of those things.

  “Any pain at all in your chest, arms, neck?” Talon continued.

  I looked at him.

  “You gotta answer the questions, darlin’.”

  It wasn’t the same when he said darling as it was when Thomas said it. Thomas’s voice dipped ever so slightly every time he said it to me. I liked the way Thomas said it.

  I liked Thomas, period.

  But he’d lied to me.

  I stared at Talon. “Why did no one tell me about Summer?”

  “Would you have wanted to hear the truth?”

  I respected Talon. He didn’t mince words or hold back anything. “I’ve been living the truth.”

  He nodded once. “I’m not up to speed on the whole situation because, frankly, I prefer to stay out of that kind of rabbit hole, but you do realize what kind of organization Estevez was runnin’, don’t you?”

  I only had an idea. I shook my head.

  Letting his guard down a fraction, Talon exhaled. “Let me put it to you this way—I removed a trackin’ device from your daughter’s arm less than forty-eight hours ago because that’s how Estevez ran his ship. You were either in or you were out. If you were in, you were tracked, every breath you took was watched, and you showed loyalty by doing somethin’ illegal as hell. In your daughter’s case, it was vettin’ potential young women for human traffickin’. She’d find the victims, Estevez would supply her with drugs.”

  I tried to swallow past the horrific failure I’d been as a parent. “I see.”

  “Not sure you do, because you look like you’re holdin’ the guilt bag and, darlin’, ain’t no one put a gun to that child’s head the first time she took drugs.”

  “Maybe Estevez did.”

  “And maybe you thought you could waltz into Frenzy tonight and give Estevez a piece of your mind,” he countered.

  I didn’t respond.

  “Look, mistakes were made, by all parties, I’m sure. But here and now is what’s important. She tried to walk. She got two bullet holes for her effort, but she made it, and if she sticks with a rehab program, she’ll kick the habit.”

  “How do you know?” Afraid to ask, but desperate for the answer, my voice was barely a whisper.

  Talon grinned, and it lit up his whole face. “Darlin’, you forgettin’ I’ve met your daughter? If ever there was a fighter gene, she’s the poster child for it.”

  A small, reluctant smile tugged at the corner of my lips. “She’s not really mine. She’s my stepdaughter.”

  His voice quieted. “Luna told me.”

  Guilt, shame, sorrow, hurt, regret, it all hit me at once, and I looked into the green eyes of a stranger. “I did the best I could raising her.”

  “No one’s blamin’ you, darlin’. You gotta let the guilt go.”

  I nodded.

  “A question, then a word of advice?”

  I nodded again.

  “Knight tell you anythin’ else ’bout his past?”

  My whole body tensed, but I shook my head. “No. Only where he came from and that his aunt Ginny makes good pecan pie.” His past, whatever had him in that hospital, it was his story to tell.

  Talon chuckled. “A good pecan pie is hard to come by in these parts.”

  I shrugged. I wouldn’t know. Pecans were one of the many foods my ex told me to avoid, and I hadn’t had time to explore any of the fattening ways they could be prepared since my divorce.

  Talon’s expression sobered. “Knight is one of the good ones, darlin’. But don’t let his smile fool you. He’s had it rough. You’ll never be sorry for goin’ easy on him.”

  A loud knock sounded right before Thomas opened the door. “It’s been ten minutes.”

  Talon stood and gave me a smile that didn’t reach his eyes before grabbing his bag. “Come on in, Tripod. She’s all yours. Show her what you’re made of.” Slapping Thomas on the shoulder as he walked out, Talon chuckled. “Night, y’all.”

  FALLON WATCHED TALERCO WALK OUT, then her gaze cut to me. “Can I ask you a question?”

  I was still mad that Talerco had kicked me out while he looked Fallon over. I respected him, but I was pissed. “What did Talon say?”

  “Nothing,” she answered too quickly.

  “You okay?” I wasn’t going to fuck around if something was wrong with her heart.

  “I’m fine.”

  Inhaling, counting to ten, telling myself Talerco would’ve told me if something was wrong, I forced myself to calm the fuck down. “Good.”

  “Why were you in the hospital eleven years ago?”

  I knew she’d ask. The second I’d told her who I was, it was inevitable. But I didn’t tell people this shit. I hated talking about it, and more than that, I didn’t want her to know. I didn’t want pity or fake concern—or worse, I didn’t want her to look at me differently.

  And I sure as shit didn’t want it used against me. Not by her.

  “Thomas?”

  Fuck. “What?”

  “If you don’t want to tell—”

  “I have Cogan’s syndrome. It’s a rare rheumatic disease that affects my vision and hearing.”

  She didn’t say shit. She stared at me.

  “I was a kid when I started having the symptoms, but no one knew what it was. It was misdiagnosed, and when treatments they tried didn’t work, I was given immunosuppressant drugs. That’s when everything went to shit and I wound up in the Children’s Hospital in Florida. Back then they were supposed to have doctors who had more experience with my disease than the hospital near us in Texas.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  I nodded and walked to the fridge. “Thirsty? My neighbor left lemonade. Otherwise, it’s water straight from the tap.”

  “No, thank you.”

  Grabbing the two glasses off the table, I poured her some anyway. Handing it to her without making eye contact, I set mine on the table. “I’ll be back. Lock the door after me.” As an afterthought, I tossed my keys on the table. “Not that anyone followed us or knows where this place is unless I tell them, but if I’m not back in a half hour, call Luna. Or take
the Escalade and drive back to L&A.” I made it to the door.

  “I know what Cogan’s syndrome is.”

  I paused, but I didn’t turn around.

  “My charity donates an annual stipend to a foundation that does research for Cogan’s, along with a few other diseases.”

  “Great.” I opened the door.

  “A nurse told me about it eleven years ago. She said a patient had been misdiagnosed and that had there been more research and more readily available information about the syndrome, the patient would’ve received better treatment.” She paused. “I didn’t make the connection that you were that patient.”

  I didn’t know what the fuck I was supposed to say to that. “I’ll be back.”

  “Do you…” She cleared her throat, and her voice pitched to a quiet concern. “Are you losing your vision or hearing?”

  My jaw locked, and my back teeth ground together. “I need to check if Shade’s here.” I stepped out the door.

  “Please. Wait.”

  All of a sudden, I was livid. At her, at the Marines, at my mother, at that fucking college football recruiter. At the telltale ringing that’d started in my ears an hour ago.

  Years of unleashed anger surfaced, and I turned around. “Now you’re talking to me?” I’d fucking apologized to her already. I wasn’t the only one culpable for last night.

  Her eyes wide, her hand went to her chest. “I….”

  I waited, but she didn’t say shit else. “You what? You’re sorry? You wish me the best? You didn’t know I had a disease? I look so healthy? How can I be sick?” I’d fucking heard it all, and she was the last damn person I needed to hear shit from. I was done apologizing to her.

  She opened her mouth to speak.

  I didn’t give her a chance. “If you’re going to hold last night against me, fine. Blame it all on me. I don’t give a fuck anymore. If you want to throw that away, that’s all on you. And for the record, I don’t need a goddamn second of your pity or sympathy. Save it for your charity.”

  I walked out.

  FOR SEVENTEEN YEARS, I NEVER talked back to Leo.

  I never argued with Summer.