Finding Trust (Centre Games) (28 page)

Brayden was strumming a few cords, subtly adding and changing the riff. Jazz was clearly in her element, having the opportunity to listen to Bray compose some of her favourite band’s music.

“Has he played for you before?” she asked Rih.

“Only a couple of times.”

“What’s he play?” she badgered Rih.

Rihanna felt her face flush bright red. She was glad for the protection of the shadows to hide the blush. “Oh, this and that,” she said absently, trying to throw Jazz off.

“Bullshit, you are so lying to me,” she hissed at Rihanna playfully.

“Can I not have anything private in my life?”

“Nope, not when you’re dating him and I’m your best friend.”

“You’re not going to stop until I answer, are you?”

“Now you’re getting the picture,” Jazz encouraged with a giggle that did little to mask the determination underneath.

Rihanna shook her head, disgusted with herself for even thinking about answering. “He played ‘Take Me Home Tonight’ the first time he played. And ‘The World Through Her Eyes’ the second time. There, happy now?”

Jazz looked over at Rihanna quizzically. “How come he only played one song each time?” Rihanna twitched in her chair and ducked her head. “Don’t bother answering—I already know, you lucky thing. I’m so jealous.”

Rihanna was quiet for a second, clearly tossing something around in her head. She eventually turned to Jazz, who was completely stoic. “You know Quade is absolutely right, you are a honey nose,” she declared.

Both of the girls burst out laughing and bashed each other with the throw cushions from the lounge. Who said only the guys could act like kids?

“Are you two quite done with your antics?” Brayden called from over yonder.

He didn’t get a reply. Likely they hadn’t even heard him through their fits of giggles and cushion bashing. They were just letting off steam. The tension was getting to them all.

He’d been watching their conversation out of the corner of his eye. Hearing their words, even though softly spoken, had not been a problem at all. His enhanced hearing ensured he could hear every word, crystal clear. It never ceased to amaze him what women talked about. It seemed he was the main topic of conversation between Jazz and Rihanna. He didn’t really mind but he had to agree with Quade and now Rihanna: Jazz really was the biggest busybody he’d come across. Quade was spot on with his “honey nose” title.

He could see the appeal of Jazz. She was gregarious, attractive, and great company. She also had a hell of a temper and was a fiercely loyal friend. The latter a quality he admired and valued highly. Quade and Jazz just seemed to rub each other the wrong way on a regular basis. It was entertaining to watch.

Before, at dinner, they’d fought over the last piece of garlic bread. What sort of woman fought over a piece of bread? The Jazz type. The type that enjoyed pushing all Quade’s buttons just to get a rise out of him. One of these days, the girl would pull that kitty’s tail too hard.

Brayden finally succumbed to the realisation that he wasn’t really making any progress with the new song that had been running around in his head over the last week or so. He placed the guitar on the table and stood, walking to the veranda railing, peering out into the darkness.

Truth was he was too keyed up. It was a common problem, with all the team. They looked outwardly calm because they’d all practiced and trained to appear so. However, the reality was much different. Their highly tuned animal senses were actually sparking all over the place. They were constant currents of high-voltage electricity waiting to be put to use.

He didn’t envy Rory and Quade for having an assignment tonight. Truth was he preferred to be wherever Rihanna was. But it would have been something to at least give him a constructive activity to focus his bustling energies on. Sitting and waiting was something that none of them did well. They all had too many animal genes running through their veins to be ever idle for long.

If he’d been here alone with Rihanna, he would have tempted her into a round or two of sweaty, lose your mind sex, but that’s something he wouldn’t do flagrantly with just Jazz around. He respected both girls too much.

He wandered closer to the girls and propped his hip against the railing. He didn’t say a word, just looked at them.

Rihanna had immediately noticed him coming closer and gave him that shy but saucy smile he loved so much. The one where her chin ducked and angled.

“Hey, you decided to give it away?” She motioned with her head to the guitar he’d left on the table.

He shrugged his shoulders. “For now. I’m a bit too keyed up to really be able to do anything constructive with writing at the moment.”

“When do you think the guys will be back?” Jazz asked.

“Hard to say. Depends on what they find.” It was a nothing answer but none of them really wanted to rip the top off that can of worms.

“It’s only nine o’clock. Why don’t we watch a movie?” Rihanna suggested.

“Sounds like a plan.” Brayden extended his hand to help her out of the lounge chair.

“Only if we can watch a chick flick,” Jazz teased, getting up.

Brayden made gagging noises but finally agreed; it was easier to keep the girls happy than argue with them.

***

The movie was just getting to the good part when the boys rolled in. Rihanna felt Brayden tense beneath her. She’d been comfortably watching the movie curled up in Brayden’s arms on the lounge, Jazz sprawled out on the other one. Rihanna knew he’d want to go and meet the guys outside in the garage before they came through to the main house. She sat up to allow him to go. As was his custom, he brushed a soft kiss across her forehead as he left.

Rihanna noticed that Jazz had sat more upright as well. They were both on alert. Both of them watched the movie, but not really. They continued this charade for a few more minutes before Rihanna could stand it no longer. She got up and went to put the kettle on in the kitchen. She needed to be moving, doing something.

A couple of minutes later, they both heard the guys coming down the hall. Rihanna was standing behind the kitchen bench, coffee cups at the ready.

Brayden came into view first and had immediately assessed what she’d been up to. “Good plan, sweetheart. The guys could certainly use a coffee.” He walked to another cupboard and grabbed a bottle of single malt scotch whiskey and tumblers before plonking himself down on a stool at the bench.

Rory and Quade joined him. Jazz leant on the end. An eerie silence settled on the group. Jazz could stand the silence no longer. “Well, what happened?”

Rory looked up at her, a dark look on his face. “Wasn’t good.” He scrubbed his hand over his face before continuing. “We got there at the tail end of some bad shit going down. The Chinese dudes were just leaving the address the boss had sent us to check out. We got tangled up in a bit of a brawl. Actually, it was more like a knife fight.”

Rory turned towards Rihanna, accepting the coffee she’d made him. That’s when she noticed his face was swollen down the right side. She gasped, looking at the bruise appearing. “That’s a nasty bruise you got going,” she pointed out, moving to the freezer to get a cold pack out.

“Had worse. Quade’s worse—he’s got a nasty knife slice in his side.”

The girls both turned to Quade, looking horrified that he was sitting here so calmly.

“It’s okay, nothing a few butterfly clips won’t fix. I’ll clean it up later.”

Jazz immediately moved to him and started pulling his shirt up. He tried to resist her busy hands.

“Oh, for God’s sake, I’m a fucking doctor. Let me have a look,” she said, annoyed he was denying her access to his wound.

“Yeah, a shrink—not a real doctor,” he replied curtly.

She shook her head at his stupidity and stubbornness. “I had to become a REAL doctor before I could become a shrink, moron. I’ve worked more shifts than I care to remember at the emergency ward at the Gold Coast Hospital.”

He’d reluctantly relinquished his hold on the shirt. Jazz had it off over his head and was looking intently at the wound. About the length of a hand span, it ran across his right side just below his bottom rib.

“It’s good for about twenty sutures. You’ve got two choices: either I do them here or you take a trip to the emergency room.” Jazz was in full business mode.

Rihanna watched Quade consider the options for about two seconds before he nodded to Jazz, indicating she should do it.

“Can you get my bag out of my car, Rih? You know the one I’m talking about?”

“Sure, I’ll go get it. Where are your keys?”

“On the dresser in my room.”

Rihanna moved from the room, with Brayden hot on her heels. He said nothing as he followed her out to the car. She quickly located the bag in the back and went to head back in. He put his hand on her arm to stop her.

“What?” she asked, looking at Bray, suddenly alarmed.

“Don’t ask any more questions about what happened until after she gets him stitched up.”

“Why?” Now she was totally curious.

“There’s more to the story and I think it’s going to upset both of you.”

“You can’t just say that and expect me to not freak out, Brayden,” she demanded, hissing at him to keep her voice down.

“Look, it’s best this way. Please trust me.”

She shook her head in annoyance at his attitude and headed in with the bag.

Jazz had cleared off the bench, preparing to get to work on Quade. Rihanna passed her the bag and Jazz quickly pulled out the things she’d need and got down to work, while the rest of them drank their coffee and watched on.

“Done,” Jazz announced, reaching for an adhesive bandage to cover the wound.

Rihanna peered around her friend to take a closer look at the neat sutures. “Nice work for a shrink,” she ribbed Jazz.

“Oh, don’t you start as well.” Jazz glared at her.

Rihanna grinned. “Looks like you’ll live to fight another day, Quade.”

He left his shirt off. The black T had soaked up the blood, making it near impossible to tell that he was injured when they first came in.

Jazz was zipping up her bag when Brayden passed around the scotch he’d been pouring. “Um, there’s a bit more to tonight’s activities. Rory?” He nodded to Rory to pick up the story again.

“We managed to detain a couple of the Chinese guys. D, Angelo, and Ali picked them up for us.” Rory was fidgeting in his chair, nothing like his normal laid-back persona. That in itself sent chills up Rihanna’s spine.

“We went into the house and we discovered two men on the floor unconscious with multiple knife wounds. One was Matthews. He was barely alive when the ambulance arrived. The other we believe was Andrew Black. He died in transit to the hospital.”

Jazz’s eyes went wide in horror. “What?” she screeched. “My Andy?”

Rory nodded in confirmation. His normally expressive face was now solemn.

Rihanna felt the news sink into her own brain while she watched her friend visibly slump against the bench. It was all happening in slow motion and Rihanna’s body just didn’t seem to respond.

“No. Oh my God, oh my God,” Jazz cried, beginning to teeter on her legs, tears streaming down her face.

Quade, closest to Jazz, swooped in and picked her up before she could fall further to the floor.

Chapter Twenty-Two

It had been a long night.

It took Rihanna the best part of four hours to get Jazz settled enough to sleep. Brayden had been a huge support helping Rihanna pull herself together enough to help Jazz. The news had rocked her best friend to her very foundations. To make matters worse, the increased threats meant that it just wasn’t possible for Jazz to leave here at the moment.

Where she wanted to go, none of them really understood. It was part of the grief process. They’d all coped with the tantrums and tears that had resulted. Rihanna knew that deep down Jazz understood why she couldn’t go but it was small consolation, given the situation.

The real question that everyone wanted to know was why was he there in the first place. It didn’t look good. Not good at all. And Rihanna couldn’t help but shake the nagging feeling that they weren’t going to like the answer much.

“Morning all.” Tom Anderson’s voice came through loud and clear over the speakerphone. “Have we got everyone?”

They’d all gathered around the speaker phone in the family room again. Rihanna had no doubt the guys had been talking to him throughout the night. Her attention had been entirely on trying to console Jazz. Jazz was now sitting at the end of the lounge, half curled into a defensive posture, staring off into space. Her normally sparkling green eyes were dull and red-rimmed from crying and lack of sleep.

“All here this end, boss,” Brayden confirmed.

“All here as well, boss,” another voice confirmed. Rihanna suspected it was Dylan but couldn’t be sure.

“Okay, let’s bring everyone up to date. Last night, Rory and Quade arrived on scene at an incident in Broadbeach. They engaged in a hand-to-hand situation with six Chinese nationals, of which they managed to apprehend two of them. These two have been questioned by Centre personnel and we can confirm they are members of the motherland extremist group as we suspected.”

There was a lot of nodding of heads around the room as Tom continued.

“From what we can ascertain, it seems they had been working with Dr Matthews as we previously concluded. Matthews had set up a meeting to obtain further virus in its natural state. It seems Matthews was working for the Chinese to increase the volume of the virus in the transport agent, essentially creating more of the material he stole from the Brisbane laboratory. The meeting went south and Rory and Quade walked in on the tail end of it.”

Jazz suddenly leapt forward in her seat, startling everyone. “What sort of meeting?” she demanded.

Tom Anderson had paused to accommodate for the interruption but it was clear he was unhappy about it. “It seems Black had the six canisters of virus from your facility, Dr Mason, and was selling them to Matthews and the Chinese. We can confirm that the canisters were not at the premises.”

There was the sharp intake of breath from all five occupants in the room.

The words coming from the speakerphone all became white noise to Rihanna and her vision suddenly seemed to narrow. Somehow Andy was involved with the break-in. He was involved in this. Jazz’s…boyfriend…had…been…involved in this.

Oh my God.

She felt sick.

Bile rose in her throat.

Somehow she had enough presence of mind to slap her hand to her mouth as she ran from the room in search of the nearest bathroom.

She slumped to the floor, crouched over the toilet, panting. Her throat was on fire and her stomach burning from the sudden evacuation of its contents. The night’s events had taken their toll. This morning’s news had finished her. She couldn’t go on. Her world was upside down. She didn’t know how long she lay there for. It could have been a minute or an hour.

The first she knew of Bray’s presence was when he pressed a cold cloth to her forehead and picked her up off the floor, his strong arms and body somehow shielding her from all the craziness her world had become.

He placed her gently on the bed and sat beside her, tenderly wiping her face with the cloth. Rihanna’s focus started to return and the world slowly began to right itself to at least appear as it should, even if she felt it would never be quite the same again.

Rihanna shot up into a sitting position. “Where’s Jazz?” Rihanna realised if she was feeling this bad, Jazz could only be feeling worse.

Brayden gently pushed her back to the bed. “Don’t worry about her at the moment. Rory is looking after her.”

Rihanna felt mildly better at that but still terribly guilty. She should be helping her friend through this, not Rory.

“Baby, let Rory take care of Jazz for a little while. He’s good at that sort of stuff. You need time to get yourself together.” He’d read her mind or did he just really understand her?

She laid back, letting out a long breath. Brayden was right. The last thing she felt like doing was consoling someone else when she felt so low herself. But if she needed to, she would. But before she could be of use to anyone, she had to understand what had happened.

Brayden seemed to understand that she needed to know and began piecing the story together for her. “It seems Andy planned the whole thing quite convincingly over several months. He first met the leaders when he catered a function for a group of Chinese businessmen. From what we can gather, he overheard them talking about the Hendra virus and what it could potentially be used for. He knew you were involved in the research and figured you’d have access to the virus. He saw an opportunity and took it. They were going to pay him one million dollars per canister.

“He then organised for the East Europeans to abduct you and your father. Their intent was to throw everyone off the trail of the real culprits: Black and the Chinese. The Steel gig at the beach on New Year’s Eve was the perfect opportunity for Black to enact his plan. He knew you’d be there with Jazz. All he had to do was split you up in the crowd and give those guys the opportunity that they needed. You know all the rest.”

Rihanna pondered what Brayden had told her. A few other things started to make much more sense.

“So he made up with Jazz just to get close to me again?” she asked.

“We believe so.”

Rihanna tensed, half sitting up before letting herself fall back to the bed again, letting out a low growl. “I just realised that he pumped me for information a couple of months ago. We were at Jazz’s brother’s birthday party and he kept asking me about my work. I stupidly thought he was just trying to get into my good graces so I’d tell Jazz he was really making an effort this time.” She paused, thinking it all through. “How stupid could I be?” She fumed at her own stupidity.

He brushed the hair back from her face. “Don’t beat yourself up about it, Minky. You couldn’t have known.”

“So why did the Chinese kill him?”

“They were probably just trying to remove any traces of evidence. It’s quite common for these sorts of people to permanently remove anyone who can later determine their involvement or identify them.”

“So how come Matthews ended up left for dead?”

“We don’t really know but if I was to guess, I’d say he realised he would suffer the same fate as Black once his usefulness was reached and he panicked, leaving them no choice but to finish him as well.”

The finality of Bray’s words really hit Rihanna hard. One man had died and another was in critical condition, unlikely to survive the next twenty-four hours. This was incredibly serious stuff. These guys were playing for real.

Rihanna sat up, leaning her head back against the headboard. “I can’t believe it’s so real, Bray. I mean I knew it was bad and I know better than most what the virus is capable of doing but I knew Andy and he was murdered last night in cold blood.”

He took her hand. “I know how bad it can get, Rih. I’ve done this for a long while now. It never gets easier but it’s something that needs to be done. I didn’t know Black so I can’t say whether he was a good person who got stupid and greedy or a bad person who got even greedier. And I can only begin to imagine how hard this is for you, being personally involved on so many fronts. But I can’t say I’m sorry it happened or I wouldn’t have met you.”

She threw herself forward, knowing he’d catch her with his solid body, burying her head into his shoulder. “I’m not sorry I met you either.” She raised her head to meet his eyes. “Certainly not sorry about that. I just wish it could have been under better circumstances, but then maybe I wouldn’t have been pushed to give us a go.”

“We’ll never know. I’m just really pleased we are giving it ago.”

With that, he tickled her until she screamed for mercy.

***

They’d found Rory sitting out by the pool, holding Jazz close; she was in his lap, her face buried in his broad chest. She was still clearly upset by the death of Andy last night and the news of his involvement today.

Bray and Rihanna walked up to them, Bray’s arm slung loosely around her shoulders in a comforting way.

Rory raised his head and looked out at them.

Brayden mouthed, “How’s she doing?”

“Okay,” was Rory’s silent response as he stroked her hair again.

Rihanna walked over and crouched beside Jazz, putting her hand on her shoulder.

“How you going, Jazz?”

Jazz sniffed back a sob and turned her tear-streaked face to Rihanna. She looked a monumental mess.

“Why are you even talking to me? I’m so stupid, I almost got you killed.” The words came out a bit broken through her sobs.

“Oh honey, I don’t blame you for Andy’s actions. You would never knowingly put me in danger,” Rihanna reassured, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze.

“Do you really believe that?” Jazz asked through the tears.

“Of course. I’ve known you forever, and you’ve always been there for me. I know you’d never do anything to hurt me.” With Rihanna’s words, Jazz pulled away from Rory and wrapped her arms around Rihanna.

“I’m so sorry, Rih. I’ve caused all these problems,” she blurted.

Rihanna stood straighter, pushing Jazz back a bit. “You look at me, Jazz Carter, and you listen up good. I’m only going to say this once. You did not have anything to do with anything that has happened. Andy took advantage of your good nature and your relationship with him and with me. He is the one who caused this mess, not you.”

“But if I hadn’t have got back—”

Rihanna cut her off. “He got the information he needed from me over two months ago, Jazz. Looking back with what we know now, I realise he pumped me for information at Darren’s birthday party. And I stupidly gave it to him, thinking he was trying to make a real go of it with you by being friendly with me. You breaking up and getting back together, I don’t know how many times over the last few weeks, had nothing to do with it. He already had the information he needed.” Rihanna waited, letting her words filter through Jazz’s fuzzy brain.

“I don’t want to hear you blame yourself again. This is on Andy, not you.”

“Oh Rih, how can you not blame me?”

“Because I love you, goose. Always have, always will,” Rihanna said simply.

Jazz finally looked at Rihanna and began to realise that she meant every word. “Even if I have lousy taste in men?”

“Even when you have lousy taste in men,” Rihanna confirmed, rolling her eyes.

***

Brayden and Rory had moved off to the side as the girls had their discussion.

“She really okay?” Brayden asked.

“She really lost it for a bit.” Rory scraped his hand through his messy blonde hair. “Scared the shit out of me. But she’s pulling it together now.”

“Motherfucker, what a lowlife thing to do to these two girls.”

“Yeah, makes you wish he was still alive so you could kill him all over again.” Rory could be decidedly bloodthirsty at times.

Brayden nodded his agreement. “What’s Quade up to?”

“I think he’s in the office talking with the boss and the others. I think they’re working up the intel and planning for the sales and racing carnival.”

“Cool. When’s all that go down?”

“Think the sales start in two or three days. The racing carnival kind of fits in around it.”

“Okay, why don’t we go see what he’s found out. These two look like they’ll be okay for a little while without us.”

They headed into the house and found Quade at Brayden’s desk, tapping away at a laptop.

“What’s the latest?” Rory asked, settling himself beside Brayden on the couch.

“You’ve got more visitors descending, Stud,” Quade snickered.

“Just my fucking luck,” Brayden growled in disgust.

“Boss and Rihanna’s father are coming in. Boss wants to go over the plans for the op from here.”

“What’s he think? I’m running a fucking hotel?” Brayden’s frustration created a low chuckle from both Rory and Quade.

“Well, mate, you did buy a house with six bedrooms, office, a games room, parking for a dozen vehicles, a huge entertainment area, pool, hot tub, machinery shed…do I need to go on? Us poor plebs don’t have budgets that run to all this.”

Brayden shook his head at Rory’s prodding. The Centre paid exceptionally well. These guys were a long way from starving. His royalties and other income from Steel ensured he was comfortable for life and could afford to have what he really wanted.