Final Vow (4 page)

“No.” Bridget blinked and then narrowed her eyes
at him.

“Excuse me,” she said with a deadly
softness to her voice.

Ahmed
raised his eyes to meet hers and narrowed his own eyes in return. She had to admit he was good with that stare. Unfortunately for him, she grew up with the king of icy glares and they didn’t intimidate her. “I said no. It’s doesn’t involve you, so drop it.”

“Drop it? It sure sounded as if he threatened my life. I think that makes me involved.”

“I’m not discussing this with you.” Ahmed stood and picked up a large envelope that had been sitting on the table between them. “I have work to do. Have a nice flight, Miss Springer.” Bridget stared in shocked silence as he walked into the back room of the plane and shut the door.

* * *

Sergei hung up his phone and smiled. So, Ahmed was in love. Rana had told him about the look on Ahmed’s face when he found them together. There was no doubt in Rana’s mind that Ahmed and this Bridget woman were involved.

It would be fun to take her from Ahmed
, just as Ahmed had taken love from Sergei long ago. The happy memories of his youth tortured him when he closed his eyes at night. He was no longer that person with ambition to go into the law. A naïve lad with hopes and dreams had died after Ahmed entered his life. That boy ceased to exist and now only hardened revenge filled his soul. What luck that after all these years Ahmed finally had something Sergei could take from him.

When Sergei was in Kentucky
, he had heard about the pretty new addition to the small town. He had placed some bugs in that insipid restaurant and endured hours of nonsense to learn of Ahmed’s every move. But then there had been bets placed when Bridget had starting taking some classes with Ahmed. It was cute really. She looked sweet and innocent with her cheerful hair and freckles, wanting to learn self-defense. She was just the type to make a man fall to his knees. Her innocence would be irresistible to men like Ahmed and Sergei. Ahmed would want to protect her. Sergei just wanted to screw her until that innocence was gone.

He looked around the large tent he was staying in and grunted
to himself as he picked up his bag. It was time to pay Keeneston a visit.

CHAPTER FOUR

Ahmed rammed his fist into the punching bag over and over again. He and Bridget arrived back in Keeneston three days ago
, and he hadn’t been able to sleep yet. Every time he closed his eyes, he thought about his wife falling to the floor and the sound of his son crying.

When Ahmed had
gone to school in England, he had started lifting weights with renewed determination. He’d enrolled in martial arts and boxing classes along with taking numerous psychology classes at Cambridge. But it hadn’t been enough. With a couple of well-placed phone calls from Mo, Ahmed had been given permission to train with MI6 in London.

He’d learned a lot by the time he finally went back to Rahmi
. He had been trained in warfare, fighting, and interrogation techniques, to name just a few things the best of British intelligence had taught him. His brother had hardly recognized him. He’d gained close to sixty pounds of muscle and had grown three inches. Gone was the youthful appearance and gone was the artist—replaced with a warrior.

It was that warrior
spirit that refused to let him slow down. He had to be prepared for Sergei. Revenge would be his and he wouldn’t stop until Sergei was dead. He hadn’t forgotten about Rana and smiled as he slammed his fist into the bag. He had exposed Rana to the world for the murder of the minister of energy. The Pakistani government had pulled the contract and opened an investigation into the blackmail of the minister and the derailment of the train.

Bridget had called and had stopped by, but he had refused to talk to her. He
hadn’t wanted to see anyone right then. His mind was too focused on the past. Too focused on the weakling he had been. Ahmed slammed his fist into the punching bag again and again, beating the demons that haunted him. No more. He would never be that scared, helpless boy again.

“Ahmed!”

Ahmed jerked his head up from where he was pummeling the bag to find Tammy Davies standing on the top of the stairs leading down to the basement. She rested one hand on her slightly rounded belly and gripped the railing hard with her other hand. Her wide eyes showed her shock at his appearance. He hadn’t shaved since he got back from New Delhi. He hadn’t had time. His normally well-kept hair was hanging loose around his face and a lock had fallen into his eye.

“What are
you doing here?” Ahmed sniped.

“The Rose sisters were worried about you. Miss Violet made you a basket of your favorite
s. She says you haven’t been in the café since you got back and she was worried you weren’t eating. I can see why now. You look horrible. Have you eaten anything since you got back?” Tammy asked with concern.

“I don’t know. I’ve been a little busy.” Ahmed knew that was a lie. Food hadn’t held any appeal to him for days now. The only thing fueling him was his
hatred and need for revenge.

“Ahmed, you were there when Pierce and I needed you. Let us return the favor. What can I do to help you?” Tammy asked gently as she slowl
y made her way down the stairs.

“You can go home. I don’t need any help.”

“Haven’t you learned yet that we’re your friends and friends help each other?”

“I don’t need friends
and I don’t need help. Go away.”

“Ahmed
,” Tammy gasped. When he looked back up, the little sprite of a woman with her blonde, spiky hair was storming toward him. “You can pull this crap with Bridget and the rest of this town, but not with me. If I have to, I will drag that incredibly hot ass of yours upstairs, strip you naked, and throw you into the shower. It’s a tough job, but someone has to do it.”

Ahmed fought the smile. Tammy barely reached his chin
, yet there she stood with her hands on her hips and eyes flashing with pure determination. She’d had a crush on him when they’d first met, but their relationship had quickly turned platonic. Quite honestly, she was more of a sibling to him than his brother was. “I think Pierce may take issue with that.”

“He’d understand. Besides, these darn pregnancy hormones have me all over the place. He’d probably thank you for taking me off his hands for a while. Now, move it.”

“Where am I moving it to?” Ahmed pulled off his gloves and took a deep breath. His stomach rumbled and Tammy just gave him an “I told you so” look.

“Upstairs. Shower. Shave. Then you’re taking your friend out to lunch. I’m starving.” Tammy turned on her heel and headed back upstairs knowing he’d follow.

Ahmed followed Tammy
down the sidewalk and into the café. He just wanted to get this over with and get back home. He wanted to see if he could hack into Rana’s network to get a lead on Sergei.

The c
afé was packed and as soon as he entered he saw Bridget sitting in the back with Annie. He didn’t notice the way the place suddenly went quiet or the way he was suddenly surrounded by three white-haired ladies until it was too late.

“Ladies,” he said with a hint of warning in his voice.

“We need to talk. But first you need to eat. Bless your heart, you look awful.” Miss Violet shoved him down into a chair, and Miss Daisy placed a plate of fried chicken in front of him.

“Eat
,” Miss Lily ordered. Ahmed narrowed his eyes and felt Miss Violet’s wooden spoon crack against his head.

“Don’t sass us. Now eat. And if you get up before that plate is clea
n, I’ll have Marshall arrest you,” Miss Violet ordered.

Ahmed looked behind him and saw Marshall Davies
, the sheriff, along with two of his deputies, Noodle and Dinky, guarding the door. Willing to risk another hit with the spoon, he narrowed his eyes and glared at them. Noodle and Dinky shifted uncomfortably but held their ground. Marshall just glared back. Those damn Davies men. They were an odd bunch. So much like Ahmed, yet they had the joy of life in them. Wives, children, happiness . . . It was what his life should have been.

The chair across from him scraped and Cy sat down casually. “What’s up?”

Ahmed just stared at him. Cy’s Hollywood good looks were deceiving. He was the most dangerous person in the café besides himself. “Don’t.”

“Cut the crap, Ahmed. Everyone here knows something’s up. What can we do to help?”

“Nothing. You of all people should know better than to ask,” Ahmed hissed under his breath. The whole freaking town was trying to listen.

"Now that you mention it,
I remember I asked you for help and you gave it. It’s about time I returned the favor.”

“Fine. I need some bank records.” If Cy could get that for him, he
’d have more time for training.

“Done.” Cy stood up and walked out of the
café as soon as Ahmed gave him the information.

Ahmed raised his eyes and met Bridget’s concerned gaze. He should talk to her, but he couldn’t. Every time he thought about her
, images of his wife filled his head. Except with those images, it was Bridget’s body falling to the ground while Sergei stood smiling over her as she bled to death.

He shook the image from his mind, ate his chicken at
a record pace, and ignored everyone else who came and talked to him. Shoving the empty plate across the table, he stood up and looked around. “Happy?”

Miss Violet pursed
her lips but gave him a quick nod. “Be back tonight for dinner or I’ll hunt you down myself.” Ahmed ignored her but then a broom crashed down on his head. Dammit. These women were going to give him a headache.

“Did you hear my sister?” Miss Lily asked with her hands on her hips.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good
. Now, get whatever is struck up your craw out and tell us what’s going on. We just want to help. You’re part of this town and we help our own.”

“You got dinner.
Don’t push it.” Ahmed turned and strode to the door. He was halfway there when he felt the broom crack into his head again. He stopped and took a deep breath. When he looked up, he saw Marshall’s laughing face.

“She’ll do it until you give in and tell them. You’re about to experience a type of interrogation no training has prepared you for.”

“Get out of my way, Sheriff.” Ahmed was itching for a fight. He knew at least it would be a challenge with Marshall. As if sensing it, Noodle and Dinky took a step away from them. Marshall kept his relaxed pose, but the smile froze on his face.

“
If you need to blow off steam, I’ll be happy to help you with that, but being an asshole to your friends isn’t called for. I’ll say this once. We’re here to help. You’ve helped us all numerous times in the past, and we are happy to repay the favor. If that help is just someone to fight, then I’ll be happy to oblige you. But if you don’t want another broom to your head, you better curb the attitude.”

“You have no idea what this is about or what I need to do. Now get out of my way.”

“Are you going to make me?” Marshall’s relaxed posture was gone as he stepped into Ahmed’s face.

“
Let him go, Marshall.” Marcy Davies, Marshall’s mother, said from a booth.

Ahmed heard her stand up and walk toward them. He felt her soft touch on
his arm and looked down at her. “You’re not alone in this. But we will let you go for now. Just know you’re never alone.” Marshall moved away from the door and Ahmed gave her one last look before storming out.

Bridget sat with a death grip on her knife and fork as she watched Ahmed bite off anyone’s head who dared to talk to him. When he stormed out of the café, she felt the whole place start to breathe again. Soon she could hardly hear Annie as people speculated about what was going on with Ahmed. They still loved him. They were still worried about him. They were all wondering how to help him. But how do you help the man who had just treated them so dreadfully?

She dropped her knife and fork, which effectively cut off Annie’s speculations.
He'd shut her out ever since New Delhi. He refused to take her calls. Refused to see her when she knocked at his door. She’d had enough.

“I think it’s time I had a little
talk with our resident grouch.”

“You go
, girl,” Annie said with a smile as Bridget dropped some money on the table.

“Damn straight.”
Ahmed was looking for a fight; well, so was she.

Bridget pulled her car to a stop in front of Ahmed’s house. Anger and righteous indignation fueled her through the front door Ahmed had mistakenly left unlocked. Zoti trotted forward and wagged his tail. She knew where he’d be. There was a gym in the basement. She gave Zoti a quick pat and threw open the door to the basement. She heard him working the bag before she even started down the stairs.

Not bothering to announce herself
, she walked down the steps. She even ignored him when he stopped to stare at her in surprise. She walked over to the bench and picked up the spare set of gloves and shoved her hands into them. She turned toward him and before he could say a word, she punched him in the face.

“Is this what you need?” s
he shouted. Ahmed took the shot and she could see anger darken his eyes, but he didn’t move. She swung again, connecting with his jaw. “You think you can just shut everyone out?” This time he did move. He raised his hands and they faced off.

“You need to le
arn when to back off. This is not any of your business,” he said in his cold voice.

“And you need to realize you’re being an asshole.” Bridget dodged a punch and connected with his stomach. He didn’t even grunt as he advanced on her with a flurry of pu
nches.

“You have
no
idea what Sergei has done! None!”

“That’s because you wo
n’t tell me.” Bridget took a shot to her shoulder and shoved him back.

“It is
personal. He has to die and I have to be the one to kill him. He has been allowed to hurt too many people.” He dodged her attack and took her feet out from under her with a quick kick-sweep.

“I can help you, but you’re shutting everyone out.” Bridget rolled, grabbed his legs
, and pulled him down onto the mat with her. He grabbed her leg and flipped her under him.

“That’s because it is my fault he is
still around. I should have killed him a long time ago. But
you
need to back off. You need to forget all about me. Stop calling me, stop coming by . . . just stop.” Ahmed pinned her to the mat and sat straddling her as sweat dripped down his face.

“I can’t
,” she snapped, looking up at him.

“Why not?” Ahmed yelled back in frustration.

“Because I’m in love with you.” Bridget took advantage of his stunned silence and, with a quick thrust of her hips, sent Ahmed flying over her head. She turned and pinned him to the ground before he reacted.

“You can'
t be. No one can.”

“That’s just
because you’re too scared to open yourself up to it.” She pushed off his shoulders and stood up. She ripped the gloves from her hands and stormed up the stairs with the admission of love causing her body to shake. She had grown interested in him when she had studied him in the military. She had felt a connection to him that she discounted as admiration. But when Mo had introduced them, she had been instantly attracted to his mystery, kindness, and loyalty. Over the course of their meetings, she’d slowly fallen in love with him. But she was a proud woman and she wasn’t going to beg. No, it was his turn to beg.