“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said.
“My leg is fine,” Ava said. It itched like the devil in the sweltering sun, but otherwise, she could practically run a marathon—as long as Remy kept kissing her.
“I didn’t mean your leg,” he said. “There are things that I’ve done that I need to take responsibility for.”
Ava didn’t like the sound of that.
“Go home,” he said, his words less harsh than they were when she’d arrived. They were saturated with emotion. “Please, go home.”
If Remy were to take the knife he always had hidden and stabbed her with it, it wouldn’t hurt nearly as much as his plea for her to go away.
“I’ll go,” she agreed, taking a shaky breath. “But not until you tell me the truth. Why are you pushing me away?”
He took a step back, giving Ava room that she didn’t want. She felt the loss as if it were another stab.
He rubbed his jaw, looking at Ava as if she was the source of his conflict.
“There’s a lot you don’t know,” he started. “Some things I just found out.”
“How bad could it be?” she asked, reaching for him but falling short when he retreated again. “Remy, don’t do this. Not again. We’ve been through too much. I just want to be with you.”
“You won’t, not after what I’ve done.”
She crossed her arms, wondering if he’d tell her what French had hinted at. But it couldn’t be true. She wouldn’t believe it. And even for the sake of argument that he really was the man behind the attack, he didn’t consciously do it. He was under the influence of drugs. He couldn’t know or control what he was doing.
Remy stepped farther away, as if what he was going to say would inflict wounds.
“Is it about what happened at camp?”
Remy gave a short nod.
“French told me what he suspected,” Ava clipped. “I don’t believe it.”
“French knows?” Remy asked. “But how? I only just found out.”
“French knows too much for his own good,” Ava said. “He wouldn’t dare tell anyone what he suspects. It wouldn’t change anything anyway.”
“It doesn’t matter either way. I have to turn myself in. I have to make amends to those I hurt.”
Ava shook her head. Drugged or not, the courts would lock Remy away for something he didn’t even remember. It wasn’t fair. “No. You don’t have to. It was a long time ago, and Boyer was lying. He wasn’t even there. No one could prove that you were the gunman.”
“But it was my gun. I’d know.”
“You don’t know anything. You were drugged. You can’t plead guilty to something you have no recollection of.”
“It’s not up for debate,” Remy stated, his voice nearing a growl.
“Haven’t you been through enough? Haven’t we all suffered enough?” Ava wanted to scream, “What about me?” But it wouldn’t matter. She knew Remy too well. His sense of justice, while normally spot-on, was now working against him. There were so many sides to Remy that she both loved and hated at the same time. The only one who could knock some sense into him now was David.
David . . .
He was a witness. He could fix this.
Ava looked to the cave. “Is David in there?” she asked, not bothering to wait for an answer. With her crutches, she hopped the short path.
Remy’s hand clamped onto her shoulder before she could enter. “Ava, please. Go home.”
“I want to see David first.”
With a great breath, Remy let go, allowing her to continue. Ava spotted David right away when she entered. The cave was shallow and a perfect fit for two. Too bad she couldn’t kick David out.
She peered down at him, the afternoon light casting shadows on this thinning body.
“Have you been feeding him?” she asked, startled.
“Yes. I’ve been making broths and slowly feeding him.”
Remy didn’t do anything slowly . . . well, there were times . . . but this was different. He probably forced the broth down David’s throat, cursing the whole time.
“Has he been unconscious this entire time?” Ava asked.
“I wouldn’t say unconscious. He babbles and tosses about.”
Ava bent over to touch David’s forehead. He was warm, but it had more to do with the outside heat than anything else. “David, wake up,” she ordered, nudging him.
“I’ve tried that already,” Remy said.
“He needs medical attention,” Ava said. “We can take him in the jeep.”
“And what if he wakes up, still affected? Then what? Do we let the doctors lock him away, treat him as if he’s crazy?”
“He needs help.”
“I’m his help!” Remy barked.
Ava kept quiet. Nothing she could say would ease Remy’s mind, his fears. She knew when she was beat.
“He’ll be fine,” Remy said. “I’ll get him help if it lasts much longer. But it’ll be night soon. You need to go before it gets dark.”
A biting argument simmered on her tongue, but she held it in check. It was useless to argue with a man whose skull was as hard as concrete. If he didn’t want her and would rather spend his remaining time in jail, then she would resume her life as if these past weeks hadn’t happened.
Brock would remain dead.
She rubbed her stomach, feeling a wave of sorrow roll through.
“Ava,” Remy started, but she shook her head.
“Don’t.” She didn’t want to hear another word. His voice would stay with her, whisper to her during sleepless nights.
“Go home to French,” he said, pausing. “He loves you.”
French? Loved her?
She almost laughed out loud as she returned to the jeep. French didn’t love her. For a time, he’d hated her. She was the competition.
French had only loved one person, and it certainly wasn’t her.
* * *
Remy watched the dust cloud grow behind the vehicle as it flew down the dirt road, obscuring his last look at Ava. He would never see her again. Having to send her to French was like swallowing tacks. It took every droplet of strength not to kiss her good-bye, not to tell her stay, not to keep her forever.
Remy wanted forever.
Turning away from the cave’s opening, he looked down at David, who was tossing as if having a nightmare. He wished David would just wake up. His nightmares seemed to be getting worse. Remy didn’t know if that was a good or bad sign. He hoped it meant that David was fighting to free himself, free himself from his own prison.
Startled, Remy sank down.
Scattered memories drifted in front of him like smoke curls. Something about this seemed so familiar and yet so very different. What was it that he couldn’t remember? What did his mind keep searching for in his drug-addled brain?
Would David remember any of this? Remy hoped not.
* * *
Ava cleared out her desk at the CID and tossed the nearly empty box into the back of her car. When she had returned to headquarters, there were too many questions as to her whereabouts. She didn’t dare answer any of them, especially if Remy was about to turn himself in. She refused to be summoned to court to testify against Remy. She wouldn’t do it. While she couldn’t change his mind, she sure as heck wouldn’t add to his misery.
So, if Brock Remington could disappear from the world, so could she.
Ava turned the key just as a phone call came through. “What is it, French?”
“I heard you quit.”
“What do you want?” she clipped, hiding her surprise that he knew. It hadn’t even been twenty minutes since she’d given her notice.
“Come work for me again. Full time.”
“No. I’m taking off for a while.”
“Is this about Remy?”
“This time it’s about me. I can’t stop him, you know that.”
“What if I could?”
“Then start working your magic, but I won’t be around to help.�
�
“You’re giving up on him?” French asked.
No, she would never. But that didn’t change anything. It certainly wouldn’t change Remy’s mind. “Good-bye, Jeremy,” she said, ending the call. She turned off the phone and opened the car door. Smashing the phone on the asphalt, she gave it a final blow with her crutch, which seemed to keep taking on extra uses.
Leaving the broken phone behind, she drove away. This time, for good.
Chapter 20
A few days later David’s eyes finally fluttered open. Remy let go of a breath he felt like he’d been holding on to for weeks.
“David,” Remy said, reaching down to touch David’s arm. “How are you—”
David knocked Remy’s hand away, his eyes wide open, scared as if Remy was going to attack. Breathing rapidly, David inched farther away.
Was he trapped in a nightmare?
“David, it’s Remy. I’m here.” He backed away, allowing David extra space. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
David blinked, his eyes seeming to come into focus as they darted through the cave. “Where am I?” His voice was rough and dry.
“A cave near Boyer’s lab.”
“Boyer?”
Remy handed a bottle of water to David. He took it with shaky hands, barely able to bring it to his mouth. While his wounds had healed, he had to be sore. Remy was about to jump in and help him drink, but he didn’t think David would appreciate that. Besides, he seemed to be doing a decent job with only a few dribbles on his shirt, which was so encrusted with dirt and dried blood that a few drops of water hardly mattered.
“Do you remember anything?” Remy asked.
David shook his head and looked around the cave.
“Keep drinking,” Remy said. “You’re dehydrated.”
David took another sip, his hands less shaky than before. He watched Remy with wary eyes.
“Do you know who I am?” Remy asked, fearful David might have lost all memory.
“Everything is fuzzy,” David said, his voice still raspy even after the water.
“I felt the same way when I woke up at the hotel after Boyer drugged me. You’ll be fine in a few minutes.”
“What happened?” David’s hand traveled slowly to his head.
“Headache?”
When he nodded, Remy took out a small packet with two pills in it. He handed it to David. “It will help with the headache.”
“Thank you,” he said, swallowing the pills with a long drink. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, noticing the blood for the first time.
“Sorry,” Remy said. “I would’ve hosed you down, but there isn’t too much water here. We’ll get you cleaned up soon.”
“What happened?” David asked again.
“Boyer injected you with a mixture of drugs and venom,” Remy said, watching for a reaction. When there wasn’t one, he continued. “The combination made you a bit crazy.”
“Crazy?” David lifted his hand. “Whose blood is this?”
“Mainly yours. You were shot in each shoulder.”
David glanced down as if expecting to see the bullets still there, sticking out like cartoon plugs.
“They went clean through,” Remy said.
“I’ll have matching scars like Greyson.” David jumped slightly, as if he’d scared himself. “Greyson. Mya. Where’s Mya? Is she okay?”
Remy smiled, relieved that David was finding his way out of the fog. He’d be himself in no time.
“Mya’s fine. She’s at home.” At least Remy hoped she was still at home and okay. He’d had French deliver a message, hopefully putting any fears to rest without saying too much.
That seemed to settle David until he started again. “The baby. Is the baby okay?”
“He’s fine.”
“He? Mya had the baby? It’s a boy? How long have I been out?”
“Slow down,” Remy said with a sigh. “As far as I know, Mya hasn’t had the baby yet. I just didn’t want to call the baby an ‘it.’ We’ve been here for a little over two weeks.”
“Oh,” David said, leaning his head back against the cave wall, his brow pinched. “When can we leave?”
“As soon as you’re up to it. But, we’ll rest today so you can gather your thoughts and strength. You haven’t eaten in weeks.”
“I did.” David frowned. “Someone forced some nasty swill down my throat. I couldn’t see who it was. His face was so mutilated that I could only see his eyes.”
“I fed you the nasty broth,” Remy said. “You were having nightmares. Whoever you saw wasn’t real.”
“You fed me that shit?”
“It kept you alive, didn’t it?”
He rubbed his forehead. “Those were nightmares? They felt so real.”
“You’ve been out flat the entire time.”
“Tell me what happened. Start from the beginning.”
“I don’t know how you got involved,” Remy said. “I went after Ava, and French intercepted. The next thing I know, you’re on Boyer’s table.”
“I went to him,” David said, staring listlessly at a point past Remy’s shoulder. “I thought he could help you. We flew to the border. He turned on me.” The bottle crackled in David’s fist. “He’s Venom.”
“Was.”
“He’s dead?”
“By his own hand.”
“It was him the entire time,” David muttered. The bottle crumpled. “He did this to you too.”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t. Not really.”
“I know he injected me and I went berserk, just like you did.” Remy clenched his jaw tight, wanting to tell David that he was sorry. That he didn’t mean to shoot him all those years ago.
“God, if I had known then what I know now, I would’ve told you,” David said. “But I didn’t understand at the . . . Remy, what’s wrong?”
Remy almost laughed. Where would he even begin? The truth. It was always a good place to start. “I shot everyone,” Remy said, the words fell out as if they didn’t mean anything more than a casual hello.
“Who? What are you talking about?”
“Boyer injected me again six years ago. I was the one that massacred the platoon. I killed them all. I shot you.”
David’s brows furrowed. “No, you didn’t.”
“I did. Boyer tampered with the reports. It was my gun.”
David shook his head. “No,” he rasped, his voice straining.
“Drink some more,” Remy said, motioning to the contorted bottle in David’s lap. “You’re going to lose your voice.”
He rolled his eyes but drank some water anyway. “It wasn’t you. I remember the shooter.”
Remy stilled, hope and disbelief spreading. “Who was it?”
“A local.” David shrugged, wincing at the pain in his shoulders. “He came in, gun already firing before he even knew where his targets were. He turned the gun on himself after.”
“How did he get my gun?” Remy demanded. “Why wasn’t this in the report?”
“The report would’ve been more useful as toilet paper,” David said. “You took your gun with you to speak with Boyer, remember? He must have handed it over to the assassin.”
Christ. It was all starting to make sense. Boyer had still blamed Remy for Tommy’s death. It was all hateful revenge. Giving Remy’s gun to an assassin, who would kill all those who Remy thought of as brothers, and the love of his life, would be another way to hurt Remy.
And Remy had been willing to go to jail for it.
And to hand Ava over to French.
“Now what’s wrong?” David asked, leaning back, his head lolling to the side.
“I sent Ava away.”
“Ava?” David perked, but only slightly. He was fading fast. “Was Ava here? Did she try to kill you again?”
Remy grimaced. “No, she was never the traitor. Boyer was.” Remy huffed. “We need to start at the beginning, don’t we? You’ve been sleeping too damn long.”
/> “I think I might again,” David said, tipping over. “So, did you make up?”
“Yes. Then I sent her away thinking I was heading to jail.” Remy stood and paced the small space, furious with himself. “I have to find her.”
“You will. Stop worrying.”
“I sent her off. Dammit! I told her French loved her and that she should be with him.”
“You’re an ass,” David snorted. “But you still don’t have to worry. French isn’t in love with her.”
“Yes, he is,” Remy stated. “I know he is. Why else would he protect her this long? He loves her, and I packaged her up and sent her straight to him!” Remy growled an oath aimed at himself for being such a fool.
David smiled, his droopy eyes crinkling at the corners. “If you think French is in love with Ava then you’re an even bigger ass than I thought. He loves you. Always has. You were too blinded by Ava to notice anything but her. You are the reason he protected Ava. Bet that chafed his hide.”
Stunned, Remy leaned against the wall. French loved him? Remy didn’t even know how to process that information. However, it meant that he still had time to apologize to Ava. He just hoped she would listen to him.
David’s snore echoed in the small cavern, bringing Remy back to his current problem. He had to get David home, and soon. Now that he seemed free of the injected concoction, it was safe to leave. Remy would give him until the following morning, but then they were moving out—even if Remy had to carry him.
It was time to go home. It was time to make amends.
Remy sighed. Ava was going to beat him with those damn crutches.
Chapter 21
It was more than a week later when Remy pulled into Greyson’s driveway. He parked just as French called. Remy quickly answered. “It’s about time you returned my call,” Remy barked. “Where is she?”
“I assume you mean Ava.” French’s response was dry.
“Where is she?”
“I don’t know.”
My Traitor Page 17