“And he believes you were involved in his abduction?”
“I don’t know how they convinced him of that or why. What’s the purpose?”
“Breaking him down…making him more vulnerable. If he believed the one person he trusted most in the world had betrayed him, that might’ve made him weaker.”
She shook her head. “Then they didn’t know Declan. It might have pissed him off and he might hate me, but it still wouldn’t get him to talk.”
“He’s going to have to talk to someone. My money’s on you.”
After her discussion with Noah, she should have been exhausted enough to sleep. She wasn’t. Instead of doing the sensible thing, like going back to the apartment to rest, she’d crossed the hallway to the LCR gym and massacred a punching bag. Sweat poured down her body, saturating the mat. She had no concept of time or discomfort. At some point, she was aware of an audience of one, her partner. She paid no attention to Aidan. Her total focus was on the bag in front of her and her need to beat it into submission. Her fists slammed into the bag repeatedly, and with each hit, she cursed the bastards who had hurt Declan. And then cursed Declan for believing she could hurt him like that.
Just how crazy was it to be deliriously happy that he was alive but want to beat the hell out of him, too?
With one final roundhouse kick that she felt all the way up to her shoulder, she stopped. She bent over, put her hands on her knees, and heaved out harsh breaths. Every part of her body ached, but not enough to give her peace. Standing, she raised her fists, ready to go at the bag once more.
“Killing yourself won’t solve the problem.”
Her eyes on the swinging bag in front of her and not on her partner at the door, she said, “No, but at least if I’m hitting a bag, I’m not scratching Declan’s eyes out.”
Aidan snorted. “A few hours ago, you were thrilled to have found him, and now you want to scratch his eyes out. Yeah, you’re definitely married.”
Not for much longer. Declan had been clear about that.
“You up for a walk down memory lane?”
She turned to face the man she thought of as a brother as well as a partner, but there were certain things even a brother didn’t need to know.
“I appreciate the offer, but reliving it won’t solve the problem.”
“Let me know when you’re ready to talk.” Grabbing a fresh towel from the stack at the door, he threw it to her. “But that’s not what I meant. Noah’s got some new intel about an old case. You’re going to want to be there. We’re meeting in fifteen minutes in the large conference room.”
Sabrina wiped her face down, then the rest of her body. Even though she longed to go in the steam room for a good muscle-easing soak, and then take an invigorating shower, she headed to the shower instead. “Be there in ten.”
Seven minutes later, Sabrina entered the conference room. Her hair was in a haphazard ponytail, she wore no makeup, and the clothes she’d found in her locker were ones she’d worn on a messy op a year ago. She’d been shot. Just a flesh wound, but stopping to patch herself up with bullets whizzing by hadn’t exactly been wise. An impoverished childhood had created an adult who couldn’t throw things away until they had disintegrated. Though freshly laundered, no amount of bleach was going to get the bloodstains out of the shirt.
Several steps inside the room, she stumbled to a stop. This wasn’t just a meeting. This was a full-fledged LCR briefing. Her gaze took in the six operatives present, but it was the man at the end of the table where her eyes stuttered, then stopped. And why was Declan here?
Sabrina was the only woman who could look elegant and beautiful in blood-stained, worn-out clothes and a messy ponytail. Her lovely face and gorgeous body were a plus, but it was the grace and confidence with which she carried herself that made anything she wore look good. If she had wanted, she could have graced the covers of magazines or walked down the runways of Milan and Paris. Instead, she had chosen a dangerous, high-adrenaline occupation that could get her killed. The stains on her shirt were a testament to that fact. And despite his anger and distrust, Declan’s gut twisted to know that she had been injured.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
Her green eyes targeted McCall, and Declan had to give the LCR leader his due. He shot a glance at Declan, allowing him to explain. “Mr. McCall convinced me that there could be some advantages to my cooperation.”
“Such as?” Sabrina asked.
He raised his handcuffed hand as far as he was able. “I might be able to walk around as a free man.”
Before Sabrina could respond, McCall’s cold, black eyes shot him a hard look. “Since you tried to kill one of my operatives, I think you’re damn lucky you’re not still unconscious.”
Declan gave a nod to the man, acknowledging his point.
Sabrina settled into a chair beside him and said under her breath, “I’ll have you unlocked as soon as we leave here.”
Dammit, he didn’t want any concessions from her. As if she hadn’t spoken, he turned his gaze on the rest of the people in the room. They looked as pissed as McCall, telling him there would be no quick forgiveness from them, either.
“So, how can I help?” Declan asked with obvious fake politeness.
McCall turned to a screen behind him that showed the lone photo of a middle-age man. “This is Barry Tyndall from Tulsa, Oklahoma. He disappeared eight months ago while traveling with his family in London. Three months after his disappearance, his wife came to LCR asking for help. The US State Department had been working with Scotland Yard, but all leads had dried up. Mrs. Tyndall was desperate. She had no idea by whom or why he had been kidnapped. There has never been a ransom demand.”
Turning back to face the room, McCall continued, “By the time we got the case, the authorities were close to the end of their investigation with no real idea who or why the man had been taken.”
As McCall continued his briefing of the Tyndall case, Declan observed the faces of the operatives around the table. Even though Sabrina had worked for LCR before they were married, Declan had never met any of them but Jordan Montgomery. Sabrina had told him enough about McCall to expect a hard-assed, no-bullshit kind of leader. Looked like, at least in that description, she’d told the truth.
He’d been introduced to the other people in the room but paid little attention to them. Once the meeting was over and the bullshit was said, he’d find a way to get out of these cuffs and disappear.
“Are we boring you, Mr. Steele?” McCall’s harsh voice blasted through the room.
“As a matter of a fact, you are. If you would be so kind as to unlock the cuffs, I’ll be on my way, and you can continue your little meeting.”
“Declan!”
He told himself that Sabrina’s horrified whisper didn’t bother him. She was looking at him as if he’d grown another head.
“What?” He threw an amused look around the room. “I’m supposed to care about some clueless bloke from Oklahoma?”
Any remaining doubts that Declan’s experience in captivity had changed him were forever gone from Sabrina’s mind. He had been the planner…the strategist. The most focused and toughest man she’d ever known, but those talents had been tempered with compassion. Where she could be hotheaded, impulsive, and sometimes coldly calculating, Declan had been her compass, guiding her. What had they done to her wonderful, caring husband to make him so calloused and heartless?
Refusing to be embarrassed for him, she stood and addressed the room. “Declan and I will get updated later.”
Noah tossed her the key to Declan’s handcuffs, his expression unreadable.
Sabrina unlocked the cuff that bound Declan to the table. She didn’t wait to see if he would follow. She knew he would.
Once they were both out of the room and the door closed behind them, she turned to him and unlocked the remaining cuff. Then she headed to the door leading outside.
“Where are you going?”
“I’m leading you
out of here. There are people who might try to stop you. I’ll stop them. Then you can go.”
His lips curled into a disdainful snarl. “So I’m like some stray dog you rescued, and now that you realize it isn’t the warm, loving creature you want, you’re letting it go.”
Her heart was literally ripping in two. “No,” she answered shakily. “I’m giving you a choice.”
“And that is?”
“Your new reality. Accept that I didn’t betray you. That we were both set up.”
“And if I do?”
“Then we work together to find out who did this to us and we make them pay.”
“Or?”
She took another breath. “You’re free to walk out of here.”
“If you think that’s going to convince me you’re innocent, then you’re not as bright as you used to be. No way in hell am I ever going to believe that you weren’t involved.”
Her heart ripped completely apart. “Why, Declan?”
“Because hating you was the only thing that kept me alive. Without that, I’ve got nothing.”
And with those words, he passed her and walked out the door.
Chapter Nine
Declan stood on the sidewalk. The sun beat down on his head, and a warm breeze washed over his face. He was in Alexandria, Virginia…he knew that much. Sabrina had told him. On the flight here, she had held his hand and reassured him. She had apparently thought telling him everything that was happening and where they were going would soothe him, like he was some kind of child who needed comfort. Since he’d been handcuffed to the armrests, he couldn’t keep her from holding his hand. He told himself that if he had been able to, he would have pulled away from her.
And now she had let him go. Like a lost child, he stood on the sidewalk without any idea where he was supposed to go, what he was supposed to do. He had never felt so directionless in his life. Who the hell was Declan Steele?
What he had told Sabrina was true. He had stayed alive for one reason only—to make Sabrina pay for her betrayal. When the leather whip had seared his skin, tearing strips of hide from his flesh till his feet were standing in a pool of blood, he’d screamed curses at Sabrina. When his head had been held under water so icy cold it had seared his lungs like fire, he had seen her face behind his closed lids, taunting him, keeping him alive. Vengeance had been his solace, his goal. Without that, what did he have?
Declan took a step, then another. With each one, his stride increased in speed until he was running down the sidewalk. Where was he going? Hell, he didn’t know.
Passing small businesses, then residences, he kept moving in a straight path. Fortunately, he wore running shoes, but the jeans and heavy shirt that had felt comfortable in the mountains of Idaho were stifling. He stopped long enough to rip off his shirt and tie it around his waist. A few people stared, most likely wondering why this large, scarred, wild-eyed man was stumbling down the sidewalk. He didn’t care. He had to keep going. If he stopped, he’d have to face the awful truth.
What if she was telling the truth? What if Sabrina hadn’t betrayed him? What if this had been some elaborate hoax designed to get him to give up the secrets in his head? What if she was innocent? He told himself he should be happy that the woman he had loved hadn’t betrayed him. Unfortunately, there was no happiness or relief. Without his hatred, he had nothing…he was nothing. A cold, dead heart, a conscienceless bastard, an empty shell. That’s all he could ever be again.
Agony speared through his head. No, she was guilty. He knew she was. How the hell did she do that? Make him question what he knew to be the truth. She was screwing with his mind again. Maybe that was her new torture.
With an unnamed fear clutching at his gut and shards of agony zooming through his head, what else could he do but keep running until he could no longer breathe?
“Where could he have gone?”
“He’s a grown man. He can take care of himself.”
Standing at the window in Noah’s office, Sabrina shook her head at her boss’s words. The old Declan would’ve had no problem. This wasn’t the same man, and she cursed herself for not accepting that sooner. She had been treating him as if he was still the man she married. As if he could just flip a switch and be the same Declan Steele she’d fallen head over heels for years ago. As if he could forget about all the hell he’d been through. And she still didn’t know what he had endured. He had said that hating her was the only thing that kept him alive. If that were true, then she thanked God for his hatred. Whatever he’d had to do, she was just glad he had survived.
The LCR doctor who had examined him had called, asking to meet with her. Though she wanted to go and discuss the doctor’s findings, she hadn’t wanted to leave yet. Not until she knew Declan was safe. What if he didn’t come back? What if he just disappeared from her life again?
She gave herself a mental ass-kick. She was a trained operative—an expert in finding missing people. He wouldn’t disappear from her life. Now that she knew he was alive, she would hunt to the ends of the earth. But she prayed she wouldn’t have to—that he would come back on his own.
“I shouldn’t have tried to treat him as if nothing had changed. Everything has changed.” She threw a pleading look over her shoulder. “That man in the conference room—that wasn’t Declan.”
“I know that, Sabrina. I shouldn’t have brought him into the meeting. We haven’t had a new lead on the Tyndall case in so long, my enthusiasm got the better of me.”
“What new lead?”
Noah motioned her over to his desk. She had missed the rest of the briefing about Tyndall. After Declan had walked out, she had stayed close to the door, hoping he would just turn around and come back. A useless hope.
Tearing her gaze away from the window, she made herself go to Noah’s desk, where he had an open file and notes, maps, and photos spread across the entire surface.
“After Mrs. Tyndall came to LCR to request our help, we delved deeper into his life. Cole Mathison was the lead on this op and uncovered some inconsistencies in Mr. Tyndall’s life.”
“Like what?”
“He’s supposed to be a mid-level manager in a large consulting firm, and the people who work there back up his claim. However, his travel dossier reads like a Robert Ludlum novel. In the last ten years, he’s been in every political hot spot.”
Sabrina looked at the world map with at least a dozen red circles of every volatile location from Russia to Syria. “Why would a middle-management consulting firm employee need to travel to these places?”
“Exactly. When Cole pressed Tyndall’s company for answers, he received a visit from two suits who encouraged him to stop asking questions.”
She almost smiled. She had worked with Cole Mathison on a couple of missions before she’d changed over to the Elite team. For any LCR operative, being told to back off was the equivalent of waving a red flag at a bull. To Cole, who was one of the most tenacious investigators she’d ever known, he’d probably viewed the warning as an invitation.
“So is mild-mannered Mr. Tyndall a secret government spy or something else?”
“We think he’s a courier for an as-yet-unnamed government agency, but we have no proof. What information we’ve been able to obtain was shut down completely when we started digging deeper.”
“So whoever he was working for is just going to pretend he never existed.”
“Exactly.”
Fury washed through her. That was an all-too-common occurrence. EDJE had the same philosophy—one she wholeheartedly disliked. Yet she didn’t for a moment believe they had known about Declan’s captivity. If they had, the Agency would have done something. Not necessarily a rescue. They might have tried one, but if it hadn’t been possible, they’d have found a way to kill him. Declan knew too much to allow him to stay alive.
“Here’s the reason I brought your husband into the meeting.” He pointed to a map of the Republic of Congo. “Here’s Dolisie, which is the area your husband said he was
held captive. Though Tyndall’s last known location was in London, a man fitting his description was seen in Sibiti, the region’s capital, about four months after he disappeared.”
“I’m assuming an LCR crew went to Sibiti?”
“Yes. We scoured the area. Concluded Tyndall had been there but not any longer. Dolisie and Sibiti aren’t next door to each other by any means. I know it’s a long shot, but Steele said there were other prisoners where he was held. If there’s a chance Tyndall is in the same prison, we need to check it out.”
“I haven’t been able to get him to talk about his imprisonment. Did he see any other prisoners?”
“I don’t know,” Noah said. “I managed to get him to tell me he heard other prisoners. When I asked for more information, he shut down. I had hoped if we brought him in and treated him as a member of the team, he might be more cooperative.”
“By handcuffing him to the table?”
Noah raised his brow. “Wouldn’t have done that except when Thorne went in to get him, your husband decked him.”
She winced. No wonder Aidan had looked so pissed earlier. “Declan needs help. We can’t keep treating him as if nothing has happened to him.”
Noah nodded. “That’s another thing I wanted to talk to you about. Since we might have a lead on Tyndall, Cole’s headed this way. I’d like for him to spend some time with your husband.”
“Why?”
“A few years back, Cole had something similar happen to him. We thought he was dead. Turns out, he’d been abducted, drugged daily, and tortured. He went through hell, and though it took him awhile, he came out of it even stronger than before.”
The only things Sabrina knew about Cole’s personal life were that he had twin daughters and a one-year-old son. He and his family lived in East Tennessee, close to an LCR branch office.
“Talking to a man who’s gone through a similar experience might help.” Her eyes went back to the window. “If Declan comes back,” she murmured.
Running On Empty: An LCR Elite Novel Page 9