Her question hung there between them and she watched Connor literally withdraw, the last of her energy giving her an edgy vigilance. Then it ebbed, leaving her totally drained and so sad she thought it might bleed out her very pores.
“Go upstairs and find a room, Maddy. We’ll need to clear the master and the hallway, as well as the foyer. You get some rest, honey. Will you do that?”
Pushing to her feet, she inclined her head. “Okay. But, Connor? We need to talk. You and me and Rafe.”
His face was like stone. “We will. Now go rest.”
****
When Rafe stomped into the house, Connor and Benedett had arranged the quiet disposal of the bodies, calling in more favors. The dead men lacked any form of identification; even their tattoos had been worked over and changed beyond recognition, except for Ryker’s. Benny thought he’d seen one tat in particular on somebody else in a different branch of the service but couldn’t be sure. He took a picture of it for future research, just because Benny did things like that. It was unlikely anyone would miss Ryker. If Connor and Rafe didn’t come back from a mission, there would be few people to notice aside from some club members and the remainder of their team, assuming they came back. It was altogether a sad commentary and gave a person food for thought. Maybe the job wasn’t what they’d believed it to be when they’d set up their business.
Connor didn’t say it out loud, because while Maddy was obviously finished with the idea of staying with them, the incompetent fuck-ups that they were—all full of shit promises—she would have missed them. It was the kind of person she was. And it might have destroyed her too, so it was best they wrapped the fledgling relationship up, right the fuck now.
“He was probably a front man for one of the alphabet agencies. Got dismissed when they had to fire the psychos because of all that media coverage a few years back.” Benny was updating Rafe, and sharing his opinion about Ryker. Connor had already heard it, not that it mattered a shit. “He had resources we couldn’t predict, and your Maddy didn’t know about.”
Rafe was even more silent than usual, and Connor knew he wanted to speak with him privately.
As Rafe grunted an acknowledgment, Benedett clambered to his feet. “Okay if I grab some sleep, then take the remaining SUV? I’ll leave it at the airport.” They didn’t discuss the fact the other SUV would vanish right along with the bodies.
“Sure. Maddy’s sleeping in mine, so don’t wake her.” He didn’t say that he’d checked on her three times now.
As soon as the other man left the room, Rafe rounded on him. “She okay, Con?”
Ryker had had a couple of packets on his person, little sealed pouches full of a liquid that was being tested now, but likely the culprit for Lawrence’s near demise. He and Rafe could have been taken down permanently, and he’d seen the way Ryker looked at Maddy. Cold fingers stroked down his spine when he thought about that look, even though the asshole was now dead. How could she be okay, having been at the man’s mercy once before? He regarded his friend. Connor understood division of labor, and that Maddy would expect them to care for the dogs that’d probably saved lives, but he’d sorely missed Rafe’s presence when he and Maddy had that strained conversation.
Pushing aside a tinge of resentment, he answered, “Sleeping. Probably crashing, and I was worried about shock, but she had a cup of tea that Benedett fixed her and kept it together. No sedative.”
Rafe collapsed into a chair and put his head in his hands. “What are we, Connor? Amateurs? She told us. Warned us about Ryker. We didn’t even search the prick, and we knew he favors knives.”
“It’s like Benny said, Rafe. He had resources we didn’t know about.” Connor hoped if he said it often enough he’d believe it. And in their desperation to get to Maddy upon finding Ryker within inches of her, they’d both overlooked a basic search. Absolute amateur hour.
“Bullshit. We figured we knew best and in our arrogance we nearly got her killed. She did what we told her to do, obeyed us, and we let her down. What if he’d taken us out? She had the dogs with her only because she hassled you, so she actually defended her own self!”
There wasn’t much to say to Rafe’s assessment, because Connor had thought it as well. The what-ifs. And if not for Anann and Hannibal…
“What did she say? Anything?” The hopeful note in his friend’s voice destroyed Connor, but he didn’t sugarcoat it.
“She asked if that was it. If we were done.” Maybe those weren’t the exact words, but he’d read Maddy’s intent. She’d put space between them after giving them her trust and that spoke volumes. She wanted out and if she wasn’t so worn down, Connor had no doubt she’d be halfway to wherever she’d planned to be when they’d waylaid her just a couple of days ago.
When Rafe just stared, Connor added, “She wants to talk and I hardly think we’re in a position to convince her differently, seeing how we dropped the ball.”
Rafe got up without another word and disappeared down the hall, his feet dragging. The library door closed and Connor slumped back, staring at the screens but unable to see what they displayed. Must be some moisture on the lenses.
****
“Rafe?”
The book splayed on his chest slithered to one side and he made a grab at it, succeeding only in crumpling the pages and bending the spine. He bit back a curse and struggled to a sitting position. Maddy surveyed him from the doorway, looking tired and wan, wearing a baggy sweatshirt and jeans.
“I knocked. Sorry. You must be so tired. I heard the dogs are going to be okay.”
“No problem, sweetheart.” He gestured her in and set the book on the table at his elbow. His neck had a crick in it and his back was sore—he didn’t know when he’d dropped off, but wished he’d at least put his feet up. His self-inventory complete, the nagging sense of something being terribly wrong crashed into his forebrain, and he felt even worse as he remembered the defeat Connor’s words delivered.
Maddy tentatively advanced and stood beside a club chair, resting her hand on the back as if requiring support. Her small smile didn’t reach her eyes, and Rafe reflected that Connor really had coined it. She’d learned yet another lesson the hard way, believing and trusting in them when they hadn’t really listened to her. No wonder she wanted it to be over. He managed not to reach for her to wrap her up, kiss her senseless, and strip the concealing clothes from her body. Sending his cock a savage reprimand, he plastered on a similar smile and braced himself for what was probably going to be the worst pain of his life.
“Connor’s not in the den. And I really need to talk to you both. I thought maybe you were in here together. Figuring things out.”
Rafe hadn’t thought he was a coward. Oh, he feared battle. Anyone with a working brain and who wasn’t mentally deranged was afraid of walking—or running—into a situation where one could die with little or no warning. But he prepared for those situations now, based his actions on intel and had good men beside him or at his back. So he went on jobs with Connor and was able to put his fear away, except for what he required for self-preservation, so it didn’t interfere with the mission and get him killed. But he was most definitely a coward, yellow to the bone, because he couldn’t listen to Maddy share her reasons for leaving. Not when he knew them and couldn’t abide salt being rubbed into those particular wounds. It brought back all the helplessness he’d striven for years to overcome and replace with competence and control.
“I’ll find Connor,” he said. “Although I’m not sure we need to talk, Maddy. He and I had a conversation when I got back last night. We wouldn’t want to keep you. I mean, if you still have that deadline.”
Her pale face became nearly translucent as the slight color leached from her cheeks and her eyes filled with tears. She blinked furiously and looked toward the window. He noted how her fingers dug into the chair, the leather compressing into divots. His chest burned as he realized she too was struggling against hurt, and he tried to decipher the reason behind it.
/> “You’re up.” Connor spoke from the hallway, and Maddy flinched. “I was in the yard.”
“I woke Rafe.” Maddy was back under control, no evidence of the pain he’d witnessed. Or maybe he’d imagined it, projected his own onto her.
“We all needed some rest. I crashed on a deck chair by the pool once I cleaned up…I mean, I hope you got some quality sleep.”
It was weird, the three of them conversing like strangers, and Rafe decided to shut it down. “Maddy came looking for us so we could have a dialogue. I told her that you and I had talked last night.”
Connor stared at him, and didn’t so much as cast a glance at Maddy. “That’s right.”
“And I said we agreed we wouldn’t keep her. I said we understood she had plans. Before.” Hell, he’d never said he was the articulate one.
A tiny sound from Maddy grabbed their attention. She was back to gripping the chair again and he wondered if she shouldn’t sit. “Maddy?”
“I did have an appointment.” She spoke so quietly he had to strain his ears.
His overwhelmed brain tried to process past the pain in his chest. They were making this difficult when she needed a clean break, and it was stressing her out. That wouldn’t do. It was their responsibility as Doms—even shitty Doms—to do what was in her best interest, even if they were only now figuring that out. An eye lock with Connor elicited an affirmative.
“Your car might still be at the market.”
“I don’t need a car, Rafe. I was going to ditch it anyhow. I’ll get a cab. I don’t have much to pack, so if you’d call me one?” Her tone was studiedly neutral, nearly aloof.
“I’ll do that.” Connor made a funny motion, almost a formal bow, as if his body was inclined to go to Maddy even while his feet moved to take him out of the library.
That left him to stare at her while she stared after Connor. The emotions in the room were cloying and he couldn’t deal. “I’ll go wash up, bring your stuff downstairs in a couple.”
As he passed her, he understood his friend’s off-kilter body movement, because it took everything he had to keep on going and get to the downstairs bath. Where he shut the door and whirled to slam the mirror with a closed fist, the resulting shatter both satisfying and indicative of his fucking life. Picking a shard from a knuckle, he rinsed the abused area under the tap and thought about precisely nothing. When he was back under control, he left to climb the stairs, ignoring Connor’s tall form standing to his right.
“She’s finished packing already,” his friend called after him. “Went to the kitchen for some water. I’m fucked up, Rafe.”
“Must be a club for that, Connor. I’m the founding member. I’ll get her stuff.”
Her laptop case sat primly beside the larger one—her past life in one tidy heap. He realized she hadn’t even unpacked, used to picking up and hauling ass when a place had proven not to be safe after all. It sucked, but she’d made her decision and they wouldn’t stand in her way.
Hefting the luggage, he went to see the love of his life off, putting on his Dom face as he’d never worn it before. Connor now waited with Maddy, standing as far as he could from her without actually being in another room, looking as impassive as Rafe hoped he did. The woman they’d waited such a long time for gave him a tremulous smile when he carried her things to the taxi waiting outside the gate. She pattered alongside him in silence, and he adjusted his long stride so she didn’t have to run. His best friend had followed, albeit at a distance, and Rafe blessed the fact that the soft place he’d discovered inside himself for Maddy wasn’t any larger than it was. Because she’d be getting to the cab by herself, carrying her few belongings, him and Connor standing in the fucking doorway, waving farewell like a couple of girls.
“Thank you.” The words sounded strained, but sincere, and he nodded, somehow meeting her luminous eyes. Fuck, they’d made her feel bad.
“You take care, sweetheart.” He forced a smile and patted her hand, then snatched his away before he dragged her out of the car and back to the house.
“Take care, honey,” Connor weighed in.
Rafe stepped away to allow the door to close, thumped the roof, and the vehicle pulled away. He and Connor watched in silence until it turned off the lane before dragging their sorry asses into the yard. Con worked the gate closed by hand and expelled a breath that gusted through the quiet.
“I’m going to bed. Maybe things’ll look different tomorrow.” He didn’t say better.
“Right behind you.”
Connor detoured into the living room, and Rafe turned at the head of the stairs to see a bottle clenched in his friend’s hand as he trudged up the risers. He personally thought that if he imbibed, he’d never climb out of one.
Benny staggered out of one of the spare rooms. “Hey. I must be getting old. I’m still wrecked. And you two look like shit. But I’m going to hit the road. I got a flight in a couple.” He rubbed a hand over his face and the sound of rasping stubble scraped over Rafe like nails on a blackboard.
“Thanks, Benny.” Connor clasped the man’s bicep. “Not sure how we’d have managed without you and the others.”
“Nada. It worked out. Say goodbye to Maddy for me. She wasn’t tracking well, the last time I saw her. Funny how civilians blame themselves for standing on the sidelines, eh?”
Rafe snorted. “She did exactly what we told her to do. It was us that let her down.”
“I don’t see it that way, but you’ll hash it out with her. I expect she sees herself as bringing a ton of shit down on people she cares about, but hopefully that’ll pass. I mean, you guys weren’t hurt, Lawrence will be okay, and so will those dogs she cherishes.” He winked at Connor.
“Maddy’s gone.”
Benedett’s eyes narrowed. “What?”
Connor shrugged. “We told her we’d take care of her issue—”
“And you did,” Benny cut him off. “What? She was, like, a client or something? Not your…not yours?”
“She was ours,” Rafe interjected, no longer caring if the pain spilled over, and Connor fucking flinched.
“Then why’d she leave? Guys, you’re fucked up here. I don’t get it.”
Rafe left Connor to explain, heading to his old room. At least he hadn’t moved all his crap into the master suite. Maybe they should sell the place, find something smaller and more defensible, not that they’d deliberately bring shit down on them again. He stripped off his clothes, still stained with Anann’s blood, and fell onto the mattress without bothering with a cover. His entire body hurt, although it was his chest that continued to ache with every breath he took. Maybe he should have followed Connor’s lead and grabbed a bottle, because sleep was elusive and he couldn’t make his body relax.
It occurred to him he and his buddy hadn’t debriefed after the debacle with Ryker, or about losing Maddy. Well, time enough for that in the next century.
****
“Where to, lady?”
Maddy had no idea. She caught the driver’s eye in the rearview and he raised his eyebrows in query. She decided she hated that kind of silent language and scowled at him. She was still shocked over Rafe and Connor’s response when she had sought them out to share her revelation, that once past the immediate trauma she’d made sense of everything. She’d been thrilled with the idea of telling them and they’d hustled her out the door like yesterday’s trash. And aside from that timid little pat on her hand, neither one of them had touched her. Good thing she had a few other memories of some extremely blatant touching, or she’d have thought she’d imagined the whole thing about them believing she was their One and all. Bastards. Dammit, but she hurt. She kept finding deeper layers of pain to wrap herself in.
“Lady?” She met the guy’s eyes again and got hold of herself. She couldn’t have a breakdown here. Pride had gotten her out that gate and it would carry the day.
On impulse, Maddy opened the tiny zipper on the side of her purse. Success. She still had her key to the executive re
ntal. Because of the high-handed manner in which Rafe and Connor had removed her to their home, she hadn’t had time to even think about leaving the key with her note and rent for the landlord. Sometimes it was better to be lucky than good. She rattled off the address for the cabbie, fingering the Bonnie McCrimmon identification pensively. She’d contact the real estate agent in Montreal as soon as she got home and cancel the appointment. There was lots of time to decide where she wanted to live, and probably a place where there wasn’t any snow and subzero temperatures was best. Maybe Australia. It was unlikely Rafe and Connor would have occasion to do business there.
Leaning back against the seat, she made a mental list of the groceries she’d need to have delivered, then thought about the car she’d buy. Distraction, the gift of staying sane. She’d have to find a job in the future, but the money she’d skimmed from Abbott’s personal account, tainted or not, was hers. She’d earned it over a number of long, difficult years with that man and wasn’t going to waste any time worrying about ethics. It was likely she’d have to lay low for another few weeks, until he imploded. She thought she could venture a couple of covert contacts with Wilkes to confirm it.
She’d woken up that morning in yet another strange bed, but without the usual desperate fear that gripped her over the past months. Waking up alone should have been a big, freaking message, but the undisturbed sleep had done something special to her brain, and she’d quit second-guessing herself and her actions of the previous day. She’d trusted her men and obeyed them, deferring to their experience and qualifications, and despite Ryker’s best efforts to the contrary, they’d given her a life. A life beyond Abbott. She was really glad she hadn’t said anything about not having enough guts to leave the sanctuary of the playroom and seek them out. Her reasoning for not doing so at the time was sound, despite the stark terror she’d felt. Sure, she’d fallen apart. That was allowed. Her guys had said so, and understood her reaction. She was cursed with not being able to forget anything, and also with a fertile imagination. It made for a disturbing combination, and Maddy thought Rafe and Connor could help her with that, teach her how to cope and gain control. PTSD affected lots of people.
The Death of You Page 18