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Stryder (The Black Stallion Trilogy Book 2)

Page 20

by Maggie Ryan


  “You think? And what have I told you about cussing?” they heard Drake ask before there was a loud click and the speaker went silent. Zoya felt her face flaming and saw an identical flush on Adira’s, though she was smiling.

  “Whew, she almost gave me a heart attack,” Adira said, shoving candy back into the cabinet as Zoya soon followed, tossing little silver wrapped kisses into the bag she’d opened. Once they were done, the men pulled them to their feet, having already taken care of the trash.

  “You guys go ahead. We’ll take fast showers and be right behind you.” Adira didn’t hesitate to add, “I mean it, go! I’m not about to have Jennie think you were poking me!”

  Maddox chuckled and gave his wife’s ass a slap. “You’re not the boss, and I’ll poke you whenever and however I like, but we’ll go.”

  “I’m too embarrassed to face her,” Zoya admitted. Stryder pulled her into his arms.

  “Don’t be,” he said, then kissed her. “If anyone is going to be embarrassed, it’s our Jennie. Still, I bet knowing we heard her will have her hesitating to toss out whatever she made and replacing it with something awful just to teach us a lesson.”

  “Then go!” Zoya said, repeating Adira’s command. “Tell her we’re coming.”

  “If you’re sure you don’t need help with all those little crannies—”

  “Go!” both women shouted in unison, Adira grabbing Zoya’s hand and pulling her toward a door she’d not seen before. With the men gone, the women took the fastest showers of their lives, barely swiping towels across their bodies before pulling on their jeans and t-shirts and tossing their workout clothes into a hamper. Not taking the time to dry their hair, they pulled it back into ponytails at the napes of their necks and were soon hurrying down the tunnel.

  If Jennie was embarrassed, she didn’t show it. Zoya apologized for her tardiness and was given a smile and a hug. “Don’t you fret, child. I’ve got a nice cup of tea steeping for you.” It wasn’t until she was stirring honey into her tea that Zoya remembered what she’d seen in Stryder’s eyes before Jennie’s voice had intruded. Looking over, she again sensed that beneath the smile he gave her, he was uneasy.

  “Are you all right?” she asked softly.

  His eyes found hers, and she knew the answer before he spoke. No, he wasn’t all right, and she was no longer sure she wanted to know the answer to the question she’d meant to ask before.

  “Eat, then we’ll talk,” he answered just as softly. And though she nodded, she knew it would be difficult to obey. It wasn’t the fact that she’d eaten several kisses that had her appetite fleeing, it was that suddenly she wondered if she’d learn that another woman had died. Evidently, though he appeared a bit inattentive, Stryder could sense her fear, for he leaned closer. “No, it’s not what you think. As far as we know, the other women are all right.”

  Zoya knew that he didn’t mean it the way it sounded, the women wouldn’t be all right until they were freed. But at least he hadn’t said someone else would never be given the chance to recover. They were alive. Nodding, she sipped her tea and managed to eat a piece of toast and a few berries.

  When she pushed away her plate, she saw that Stryder had eaten almost as little as she. That in itself had her stomach clenching. Something was wrong. Without thinking, she placed her hand on his thigh beneath the table. It wasn’t a move she’d normally make, but she needed the connection that only touch could bring. His hand dropped to cover hers, giving her fingers a squeeze as he had in the gym.

  “Tell me,” she said softly.

  He looked around the table before looking down at her again. “Let’s take a walk.”

  Zoya nodded and stood when he did. The looks on the faces of Maddox and Drake told her that they knew what Stryder was going to tell her, while Adira looked puzzled and Jennie looked concerned. Anson’s absence had been explained, but she had no doubt that he’d been the one to relay whatever the information was before he’d gone to bed. Still, how bad could it be if the other women were still living?

  “I need to get my sandals,” she said as Stryder led her through the door off the kitchen. “I left them in the garden.”

  “We can sit on the swing instead if you’d rather,” Stryder offered.

  The decision was easy for her to make as her legs were a bit achy from the workout. “I’d like that.” They walked around the corner of the wraparound porch, and when he sat on the large wooden swing and then pulled her onto his lap, she leaned against his chest, a position that was rapidly becoming not only familiar but one of her favorites. “You looked… I don’t know, worried and, well, sad. I’m sorry if it’s because of me. I was just—”

  “No, it’s not because of you. I understand learning about Anya was not only a shock but incredibly sad. This isn’t about you, not strictly speaking, anyway. It’s about Sophia. I don’t know if you saw her photo, but I did, and asked Anson why he’d put it on the screen with the photos of the other women.”

  If she’d seen the photo, she couldn’t remember. Once she’d seen Anya’s had been missing, that was all she could think about. Still, she had no doubt that Sophia’s photo must have been on the monitor if Stryder said so. “So, what did he say?”

  “Remember we were discussing how you couldn’t believe she wasn’t another victim? How she seemed like one of you?”

  Zoya shook her head, sitting up straight again. “I was wrong. She isn’t anything like me… like us. She was nothing but Poplov’s little bitch. God, when I think about her listening to us, hearing us cry, terrified about what was going to happen, it makes me sick. The whole time she was spying on us, ratting us out, giving Poplov information to use against us.”

  “Maybe so, but what if she had a reason?”

  “A reason?” She jumped off his lap before he could stop her, whirling around to glare at him. “I don’t give a fuck what reason she thinks she had. There is no reason that I’ll accept—”

  “Zoya, settle down. Sit down and let me explain—”

  “No!” The word was shouted and she felt all the anger she’d felt earlier return. “Explain? There’s nothing you can tell me that would make what she did all right. Shit, Stryder, how can you even think she’s not as evil, as despicable, as horrid as Poplov? Twelve of us thought she was a friend and trusted her—for what? To discover she was never one of us. How can you ask me to forget that… to forgive her?”

  He stood from the swing and reached for her. “That’s not what I’m saying. Of course I understand how you feel—”

  She didn’t let him finish as the moment his hand touched her arm, she slapped it away.

  “No! Don’t touch me!”

  “Zoya! You’re not giving me a chance—”

  The sound of her laughter was foreign to her ears, and yet she couldn’t stop even though it sounded like a crazy person. “A chance? To do what? Tell me another lie?”

  “I’ve never lied to you. I’m trying to tell you about my—”

  “You did! You’re a liar, Stryder. I trusted you when you… you promised me. You promised you’d save them and now Anya is dead! Dead!” Her voice continued to rise and yet she didn’t care. “Fuck Sophia! I want her dead, too. I want her rotting in hell for what she did and if you don’t, then fuck you, too!” Unable to say anything else, her chest too tight, her throat closing with every strangled breath, she turned and ran. Not off the porch, knowing he’d be able to catch her. Instead, she raced around the porch and entered the house through the front door. She didn’t stop running until she was in her room. Slamming the door, she twisted the lock and then threw herself, not on the bed where they’d lain together only hours earlier, but into the furthest corner from it, curling up into the ball of misery she’d feared earlier, yet not caring. This time the sobs she couldn’t stop were those of abject despair knowing that the one man she’d trusted, the man she loved, had failed her so completely.

  Chapter 17

  “Fuck!” Stryder roared. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” He s
lammed his fist against the wall, not even acknowledging the pain. It was nothing compared to the agony ripping through him.

  “I’m guessing it didn’t go well.”

  Stryder’s bark of laughter was as strangled as Zoya’s screaming had been. “That’s the fucking understatement of the century.”

  “It was too much, too soon,” Drake said as he closed the distance between them. “Give her some time. I’m sure once she thinks about what you told her, she’ll come around.”

  “I doubt it,” Stryder said, “seeing as how I didn’t tell her a damned thing. The moment I mentioned Sophia, she went off. She hates that woman and now, well, she hates me as well. Hell, who can blame her? I promised to rescue her friends and failed.”

  “She doesn’t hate you, son. She’s hurting.” When Stryder didn’t respond, Drake sighed. “Look, I know you’re hurting too, and I wish I could wave a magic wand and make it all go away, but I can’t. I do know that there was nothing you or anyone could have done to save Anya. The truth is, we might not be able to save them all. The only thing we can do now is keep trying.”

  Stryder nodded, lifting his hand to rub across his face. “Fuck, Pops, I can’t stand to see her hurting so much.”

  “I know, son. Come on. Let Jennie take care of your knuckles and then come to the ops center.” Drake lifted his cell phone. “Maddox is waking Anson. I just got a text from Hadi. He’ll be calling in a few minutes. Evidently he hasn’t slept much, either.”

  Father and son walked back into the house, Drake continuing out of the kitchen while Stryder found himself enveloped in Jennie’s arms for a few moments before she stepped back and took his hand in hers. “Sit,” she said, her voice soft and full of concern.

  Stryder dropped into the seat he’d occupied earlier, looking at the blood that had welled and clotted across his knuckles. “You know, it’s funny,” he said as Jennie brought a bowl of water, a cloth and a bar of soap to the table. “My hand should be hurting like a son of a bitch but I don’t feel a thing.”

  “Only because your hurt is elsewhere,” Jennie said, reaching for his hand again. “You were the same even when you were young. Physical pain that can bring another to their knees has no power over you.” She began to gently wash his hand, each swipe clearing away some blood, not speaking again until the water in the bowl was tinged pink and his flesh was clean. Jennie lifted his hand to her mouth, giving each bruised knuckle a kiss.

  “I remember you always doing that,” Stryder said.

  “You know me, I’m a firm believer that love can heal better than any medicine ever created.”

  “Not everything can be fixed,” Stryder said.

  Jennie reached for the bag she always kept supplied, opening it and pulling out antiseptic cream and gauze. “Don’t you doubt it,” she said as she began to apply the cream. “Love causes the deepest pain and sorrow but also gives us joy and contentment too wondrous for words.” When he just grunted, she shook her head. “You’ve always been stubborn too, but you know I’m right. You carry your pain deep, hold it close and are reluctant to share it, allow anyone to help you through.”

  “I tried to share,” Stryder said. “Zoya refused to listen and I really can’t blame her. Everyone has their own pain, Jennie. It’s not right to burden her with mine.”

  “Bullshit. That’s what family is for and before you say it, that girl is family. I’ve watched you and you’ve never once looked at a woman the way you look at Zoya. Don’t you dare give up on her, or on yourself.” Wrapping gauze around his hand, Jennie pinned it in place, setting it down on the table and reaching up to cup his cheek. “She’s hurting, you’re hurting. You not only need each other to heal, you belong together.”

  Stryder turned his face to press a kiss to her palm. “I wish the world was full of people like you, Jennie. All I can prom…” Unable to say the word “promise”, knowing how Zoya felt he’d broken his word, he simply stood. “All I can say is that I’d rather die than lose her but that isn’t important. All that matters is I keep her safe until this is over.” When Jennie shook her head and began to speak, he said, “Let it go… I can’t, not now. Pops is waiting.”

  With a reluctant nod, Jennie stood. “Take some coffee for your brother.”

  After accepting the two mugs she prepared, he said, “Thanks, for the coffee and the first-aid. You’re not only a dear friend, you make one hell of a nurse.”

  He couldn’t help but glance towards Zoya’s door as he strode across the living room. He knew that the old Stryder, the one who had fought to win every battle since puberty, would have knocked the door down and insisted that she listen to him this time. If she still refused, he could easily have her face down over his knees applying his hand, hurt or not, to her bare ass until she heard what he had to say. But not this time. This wasn’t something a spanking could fix. No, this wasn’t a matter of her risking her safety or even disobeying a rule. This went far deeper than that. Deep was something he could understand. Like Jennie had said, he’d been shoving his pain deep for years. He could shove it down a few more inches if he had to.

  When he entered the operations center, he found Anson already seated in front of the monitor where Hadi would soon be appearing. Though Anson had only slept a couple of hours, Stryder had no doubt that he was fully alert. He knew his father and brothers well. When they were in full-blown mission mode, there was no stopping them.

  “Hadi will be calling in any minute,” Drake announced after Stryder took a seat. “His text said he has some crucial and time sensitive information that we all need to be aware of.”

  Stryder took a sip of his coffee after passing Anson a mug.

  “Thanks,” Anson said, the one word speaking volumes as the two looked at each other. Stryder could see the regret in Anson’s eyes and knew that his father had informed his brothers of how the conversation he’d had with Zoya had gone. He shook his head slightly, letting him know that he didn’t hold him responsible for Zoya’s reaction. With a nod in return, Anson pulled up the video conference screen just as Hadi was connecting. Seeing the image appear instantly pushed everything else into the background. It was good to see the man’s face. He had become a good family friend over this whole ordeal. The Steeles didn’t trust many, but they did trust Hadi Nazar.

  “What’s going on?” Drake asked Hadi.

  In a very thick Arabic accent, Hadi began to talk. “You’ve heard about Hildalgo?”

  “Yes,” Drake said.

  “I can’t tell you how sorry I am that my team was too late to save Anya.”

  “You don’t have to,” Drake assured him.

  Hadi gave each man a glance and then nodded, accepting that they understood there had been nothing anyone could have done to save the woman. His next statement showed that he also understood it was time to move forward. “How would you like a bit of justice? Vasily Poplov is going to be in Dubai the day after tomorrow… your time. My sources tell me he is arriving for business.”

  “In Dubai? He has the nerve to set foot there after everything he did?” Maddox asked, his tone showing his disbelief. “The man really does think he’s invincible. Fucking moron is what he is.”

  “I’ve been laying low since the death of my family,” Hadi began. “I spend most of my time in Africa because the memories are just too much. Even with Hildalgo’s death, I don’t think I am on Vasily’s radar right now. Frankly, with what you’ve told me, I don’t think he cares who takes his enemies out. But he misjudged the power and connections I still have, especially in Dubai.”

  “A costly mistake on his end,” Stryder added as he stood. “Well, I guess we need to make a trip to Dubai.”

  Drake nodded. “Agreed.”

  “Hold on,” Anson said, raising his hand. “I’m not saying we shouldn’t, but let’s think this through. Are we sure this isn’t another trap of Poplov’s?”

  Hadi answered that question with, “I can guarantee you that Poplov might not have set this meeting up but even if he is
leery, he can’t afford to miss it. It’s not a plan against me or any of the Steeles. He is meeting with two men about him smuggling arms in exchange for equipment he needs for the oil drilling he’s planning.”

  “I don’t care what he’s planning. His being in Dubai is rather poetic if you ask me. Plus, there’s no reason we can’t end things now with Poplov,” Stryder said. “We have the names and locations of every woman he sold. There’s not a fucking reason to keep him alive. Poplov is worthless to us now.”

  “What about Adira?” Maddox asked. He looked at Hadi on the screen. “Do you want us to bring Adira with us so you can see her?”

  Hadi shook his head sadly. “No. I would much rather have her return to her home country be on happier and more peaceful terms. I don’t want her to be surrounded by even more security than she was used to before. It’s far too dangerous, and I can’t risk losing my only family member to Poplov or any of his hired men.” He cleared his throat, and his expression changed just enough to show a hint of sadness. “And I don’t want her to see the bad side of me that is about to come out. I have decided that it’s time I retire the dark and only focus on the light. But before I hang up my coat, I have one more evil task to do, and I don’t want my granddaughter to witness it.”

  The Steeles were silent for several moments. Stryder understood that they were all accepting Hadi’s statement, as well as understanding his unspoken intent.

  Maddox nodded. “Fair enough.”

  “I don’t want to sound selfish, but I’m actually glad she’ll stay behind,” Stryder said. “I know she wants to see you but I also know that Zoya needs her. They can stay with Jennie. I’m sure the ladies will be just fine without us for a short trip.” And he meant it when he said short. He had no intentions of spending any amount of time he didn’t have to away from Zoya. No matter how she felt, for the first time in his life, he refused to give up all hope. He’d never forget the way it had felt to hold her, to kiss her, to join in both body and mind.

 

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