Playing Dirty

by HelenKay Dimon

  Ward shook his head. “Idiot.”

  In the chaos at the condo this good part almost got lost. This was good news. Not the best news, but a major step forward. “There was one vial on him and we recovered three more. If Matt is right, that leaves two out in the open.”

  “Let’s hope we’re only chasing two.”

  Nothing else had gone right on this op so Ford doubted this would. “Trent claims to have more.”

  “He’s a lying sack of shit.”

  A terrorist, a liar, and possibly a deranged psychopath. That pretty much covered it. Ford would see him strangling Shay every day for the rest of his life. He’d felt so useless that he couldn’t get to her and ease the pain.

  And now he’d caused more. Him, not Trent.

  Ward kept talking shop. “You took a big risk with the tracker.”

  “Not really.” Trent might know science, but Ford knew human nature and his job, and the plan had been calculated. It also worked, though looking at Shay sitting there, he had to wonder at what cost.

  “It could have gone sideways on you.”

  “No, I would have killed him before I let that happen. I had eyes on him the whole time, so did Ellery and West . . . and you.” That part was true. Shay or not, Ford would not have let Trent get away free. West tailed him the entire time and Ellery watched, however it was Ellery watched over these things.

  “Thanks to you we’ve shut part of the danger down.”

  Part but Ford wanted it all. If he was going to lose Shay, he sure as hell better get everyone involved, including the elusive, faceless Benton. “It’s the job.”

  “Still, West said he was about to move in when Trent made a move toward Shay’s place.” Ward made a clicking sound with his tongue. “I have to wonder, why come out and cause a scene?”

  “Maybe Matt can help with that question,” Ford said as he barely concentrated on the conversation.

  Shay still didn’t move. Not a shift or a head nod. Seeing her lifeless ate at him until his insides hollowed out.

  Ward shrugged. “I’ll try.”

  Ford snapped out of his stupor. It took another few seconds to tear his gaze away from the woman who had come to mean everything.

  “Let me have a shot.” He needed to hit something. He’d keep his hands off Matt but scaring the hell out of him was fair game. “If you fail, I get ten minutes with the guy.”

  After a brief hesitation, Ward nodded. “Fine.”

  “And I want West in the room with me again. That produced some results last time.” Because that guy could terrorize just by standing in a corner.

  Ward closed his eyes and exhaled. “Keep the bloodbath to a minimum.”

  “I can’t promise that.”

  27

  SHAY’S INSIDES shook so hard she could barely sit still in the chair. The cold room and metal chair didn’t help, but this wasn’t about temperature. The need to throw up hit her in waves. Her throat felt thick and if she shifted even a little the room blurred.

  Reaction, misery . . . she wasn’t sure what had her body falling but she knew who. The combination of Trent, the betrayal by Ford. It was too much.

  Taking a deep breath, she started a mental countdown. When she reached zero she went back to the beginning and tried again. One the third time she finally stood up. Wobbly but on her feet.

  A few steps and she’d be at the door. She’d bang the walls down if that’s what it took to get someone in this place to let her out. She turned, closing her eyes to ease the vertigo. When she opened them again, Ford stood in front of her.

  She had no idea how long he’d been watching her. Chalk the moment up to one more example of her not knowing what was going on in his head.

  Still wearing the black pants and dark shirt she’d thought was some sort of dress outfit but now guessed was what he wore when he whipped out his gun, he stood frozen. She’d seen him in action twice now. He wore a weapon at his side even now. Amazing how something she hadn’t known about even a day before now seemed like a natural part of him.

  She wanted to shove him aside and go into the hallway. To scream until someone came running. From there, who knows where she’d end up. No one had explained anything to her. Oh, ­people flashed badges and she noticed all the security. A government agency of some sort, she guessed, but who knew.

  He nodded toward the chair she just abandoned. “Sit down.”

  “Go away,” she shot back.

  He shut the door and slipped around her to stand in the space across the desk and in front of the open chair. “We have Trent in custody. His leg is fine though he likely will have a limp.”

  The comment sounded like the beginning of a lecture, or a bad movie. Ford’s posture was perfect and he kept his hands folded in front of him. She caught glimpses of the man she thought she knew, but the steel veneer, the serious affect, didn’t match with the guy who’d worn a T-­shirt with possums running a car wash the other day.

  No, this guy was someone else. Something else. Before she left this building and walked away from him forever, she wanted to know who had ripped her life and heart apart. “Who is ‘we’?”

  “My team.”

  She hadn’t expected a real answer. She doubted anything he’d ever said to her was real. “Your hit squad.”

  “You’ve got this wrong.” He tightened the grip of his hands on the chair back, his knuckles turning white.

  “Oh, really?”

  “We’re the good guys in this scenario.”

  “Screwing women who never did anything to you and shooting up a museum?” The first one made her stomach heave and the second sent an unwanted series of memories running through her head. “Do you really believe that you’re on the side of right here?”

  “We’re a black ops task force, pulled together from British intelligence and the CIA.” Never one to show a lot of what he was feeling, he gave away nothing now. His flat mouth matched the flatness in his eyes.

  And now he was going to try to sell her some sort of James Bond garbage. She reached for the knob and found a round disk. She pushed and tried to turn it. When that failed she slapped the door with her hands.

  “You need the security access card.”

  Whatever that meant. “Open the door.”

  “Trent is accused of stealing a weapons grade toxin from his workplace. It’s believed he intended to sell it on the open market. The only purpose would be for terrorist activities.”

  She looked at the black square next to the door, then at him. His words rumbled inside her, and her mind spun back through every bad spy novel she’d ever read. About the boy Trent had been and the angry and distant man he’d become.

  Every minute of the last few months played in her head. Trent had become more self-­focused and withdrawn. His ego raged and his behavior changed. She’d chalked it up to a range of possibilities. Becoming a terrorist or a madman with the power over a toxin was never on her list. What he’d said to her in the condo made it sound like this was about having his work taken and losing control, but she had no idea.

  It all raced around in her mind until it was too much. Too cloak-­and-­dagger. “This is crazy. Everyone I know is suddenly crazy.”

  Trent talked about ­people chasing him, men aimed guns at her. Now Ford thought he was some superagent. Hell, maybe he was. Everything he’d ever said was a lie, maybe he finally stumbled into telling the truth.

  He came around the desk and reached out for her. “Listen to me—­”

  “No.” The second his fingers touched her arm she shrugged away. Her back hit the door as she tried to put as much space between them as possible. “Don’t touch me. Don’t ever touch me.”

  Waves of nausea hit her then. She’d actually been dumb enough to fall for this man. She’d accepted the frustrating parts and welcomed all of him into her life. For the first in a long
time she hadn’t held back. She’d ignored the little voice in her head that told her to wait.

  She’d even yelled at her uncle for investigating Ford. Not that it did any good because none of this—­the gun-­toting guy with the line about being a good guy—­came up.

  All of the thoughts and shocks piled up until she couldn’t take on more. Breathing in deeply, she tried to choke back the lump of whatever was lodged in her throat and get her body under control. She would not lose it in front of this guy . . . whoever he really was.

  “Let me out of here.”

  Most of the color had drained from his face. He reached for her, then stopped as his hands dropped to his sides. “I had a job to do. I need you to understand that and listen to me.”

  Slowly her insides thawed out and twisted. The shattered feeling gave way to something raw and sharp. “Me, I was the job. That’s what you mean, right? You used me.”

  “No, baby.”

  Now he used endearments. Now when they truly meant nothing. “Don’t do that. Don’t call me that.”

  His eyes closed, and when he opened them again there was a stark darkness there. “This toxin has the power to kill a lot of ­people, Shay. In the wrong hands innocent lives will be lost. Your cousin created it and stole it from his lab.”

  He didn’t deny her claims. Didn’t even let her keep the fantasy that she’d come to mean something to him. Just bounced to a new topic about this toxin. This was about getting control of some stupid vials, and she wasn’t even sure she understood what that meant.

  “Then why not question me? Just bring me in here, wherever this is, or to a police station or some office you superspies use to get information out of ­people.” He didn’t say anything. Suddenly he didn’t have to. “Oh, because you thought I was in on it.”

  He winced but quickly covered it. “It was a possibility.”

  With both hands up, her palms hit his chest and she shoved as hard as she could. “Go to hell.”

  He barely moved, so she did. She slipped past him and walked to the other side of the small space, as far as she could before she hit another wall. The room could be a metaphor for her life lately, bouncing from roadblock to roadblock and not even knowing it.

  “It wasn’t all a job, Shay.”

  His words sat there, in the air, in her head. This was it, the big play where he tried to salvage something of his humanity while shredding hers.

  No, he couldn’t have this.

  With her back to the wall she lifted her head and faced him down. “Shut up.”

  “Shay—­”

  She waved her hand in the air as if it could bat back the words and knock away the pained look in his eyes. “Don’t you say anything. You don’t get to act like it’s no big deal that you slept with me and held me and then let me think I mattered.”

  “You do.” He took a step forward.

  She slammed her body tighter against the wall. “I hate you.”

  He swallowed. She could see his Adam’s apple move.

  After a shuddering breath he started talking again. “I know. You should.”

  This was a new game. A fresh way to torture her. As if luring her in and letting her fall in love with him wasn’t enough of a joke on her.

  “Everything you say makes me . . .” She lost the words. Lost everything.

  This man had come to mean so much, and now he stood there, just a few feet away, not apologizing or saying this was all some huge misunderstanding. He wasn’t. He’d reduced her to a puddle and had her on the verge of screaming and pummeling him and he acted like they were still friends.

  “What do you feel?” he asked.

  No, she would not give him that, too. She wouldn’t beg or tell him what was going on inside her head. He probably didn’t want to know. Hell, she could barely handle it. “You had a choice, Ford . . . is that even your name?”

  “Honey, I had to get close enough to figure out where Trent was and see if your uncle knew anything.”

  She could hear the pleading in his voice and blocked it. “You think Anthony is in on it?”

  “That doesn’t matter right now.”

  For a second the haze cleared and she saw the truth. Ford was trying to ruin her family, had succeeded in crushing her, and he brushed it all aside. She had to move again. No matter how fast her head spun or how her feet stumbled, she couldn’t just stand there.

  She circled around until she got to the chair and rested her hands on the back. Leaning brought some relief. So did grabbing the frame with all her might.

  “There were points, so many points, where you could have filled me in. Or you could have watched from a distance and not slept in my damn bed every night.” There it was, the part that kept jamming in her throat and making her gag.

  “I would give anything to go back. To not hurt you.”

  Rage swept over her, burning out the chill. “Get. Out.”

  “I was doing my job. Trying to keep ­people safe.”

  But not her. He said all the right words but acted as if she didn’t matter at all. “Shut up.”

  “It’s dangerous and shitty and sometimes ­people get trapped in the middle and hurt.” He shook his head. “Decisions, hard decisions, have to be made. The choices suck. Do you honestly think I want to make them?”

  “I don’t care.” But part of her did and she hated that.

  “Please listen to me.” His hand came out again, as if he planned to touch her. Like so many times in the past where he grabbed her and hugged her close. Where he gave her comfort instead of inflicting pain.

  She gave in and hit him. Rammed a fist into his chest then did it again. She hit, the sides of her fists thudding against him. Punched as she thought about all she’d lost and the pile of lies he’d told. She closed her eyes and let the anger wash over her. She hit until her arms ached and her chest heaved.

  She could have gone on for hours or just a few seconds. Time blurred and the thoughts running through her brain, the replay of their time together, jumbled. He didn’t touch her or stop her. He shifted his head out of the way but that was all.

  God, even as a woman fell apart in front of him he stayed stoic and distant.

  With heavy breaths hammering her chest and adrenaline still fueling her muscles, she tore herself away and stepped back. “Leave me alone.”

  This time he touched her. His hands wrapped around her biceps as he leaned in, almost willing her to believe. “I need you to believe me. To give me another chance. Hell, I just need you.”

  She’d longed to hear the words, and now he’d said them, buried them, in all the confusion of the day. “No.”

  His hands shook where they held her. “Don’t you understand that this started as a job but became something else? What we have is real.”

  So many lies. That’s what they’d had. And he kept stacking one on top of the other.

  She shook her head. “I can’t listen to this.”

  “I need you.” He repeated the words. So harsh and pained, it sounded as if they were ripped out of him.

  His rough voice cut through the haze winding its way around her. It gave her the strength she needed for one last shot. She slammed her hands into his chest and shoved. This time he moved. Stumbled back as his mouth dropped open.

  “You need time.” His voice sounded hollow.

  “You could give me a lifetime and put an entire country between us and it won’t help you.” The ache inside her spread to every cell.

  “Don’t say that.” His voice came out as a harsh whisper.

  But that’s not what killed her. The words. She’d never heard him beg for anything. Figured he’d waited until now, when she didn’t believe a single word, to act like he gave a damn about her. “Go to hell.”

  He reached around her and touched the keypad. The door opened with a click. “Already the
re.”

  He slipped out before she could find the energy to try to follow.

  Anthony’s gaze flipped from Tasha to Ward. “I want to see my niece and my son.”

  Seeing the strong man now, pale and drawn, shifting in his chair as he rubbed his hands together, almost made Ward feel bad for him. Then he remembered that this man created Trent. He played some role, if not in the stealing of the toxin, in forming the psyche of the guy who did the deed.

  “Trent is being questioned. Shay is fine,” Tasha said from her seat directly across from Anthony.

  “I’m supposed to believe you?”

  Ward balanced his hands on the back of the chair next to Tasha. “You should be more worried about yourself.”

  “I am going to bring in my lawyer and shut this fucking place down.”

  That would be interesting. Not that Ward hadn’t heard threats like that before. ­People always launched into bullshit when cornered. The inevitable squealing about tough attorneys and lawsuits was part of the right guy’s handbook.

  Of course, none of that mattered here. This building, the Warehouse, the work of Alliance, operated just outside of the law of two countries. It was a dirty business upholding the Constitution by shredding it, but sometimes that was the only way to keep ­people safe.

  Not that they could print a handbook or put the slogan on a T-­shirt. No, they quietly worked, and in moments like these, when Ford was being emotionally ripped apart and Shay wore her defeat like a blanket so heavy Ward had to look away, you had to believe in something bigger. Somehow Ward still did.

  Anthony had issued his threat, now Ward gave one of his own. “If I want to ship you away and put you in a hole so deep you won’t see sunshine ever again, I can.”

  “That’s—­”

  “I can make you disappear. Let the ­people who know you think you’re dead. Watch your business and your properties fall apart.” Sad thing was, he didn’t exaggerate. He had the power, and the woman next to him would sign off on all of it. She had no compassion for ­people who ruined the lives of others. “And, Anthony, I can do all of that without leaving this room.”