Master No (41 page)

“Cold? You think I’m being cold? Baby, you don’t want to know how I really feel about what happened out there. You don’t want to hear me scream. Do you think for a second I don’t want to use this storm as cover? I’ve already planned it out in my head. I can see the op. They’ll have to leave the guards on the inside because of the weather and that will make them soft. I’ll watch and the minute I can, I’ll slip inside and take out whoever’s in my way. No guns. They’re too loud. I personally prefer a knife. More personal. If you’re going to gut a man, you should have to look him in the eyes, you know. I’ll sneak up the back stairs. Your father’s room is at the back of the house. He’ll have a few guards on him, but no one will be expecting anything tonight. They think we’ll lick our wounds. So they won’t expect me to slit their throats. And then, oh then, I can spend some time with your father. He owes me a debt. I could collect it tonight.”

He’d played the scenario out in his head over and over. As he’d watched Faith pulling out a bullet from Nick, he’d thought about how he could mount her father’s head on a wall somewhere, an eternal sign that he’d taken down the real predator.

In the end, he’d decided nothing mattered. Revenge wouldn’t bring Jamie back. It wouldn’t raise Des and Theo from the ground. It would simply get the rest of them killed.

When she was safe, when Faith was in the care of people he trusted, then he could go back, then he could do what he needed to do.

The only person he would risk from here on out was himself. There would be no happy McKay-Taggart job waiting for him. Not after he’d gotten a Taggart killed. There would be no little family for him or invites to dinners. He was done. He would walk away at the end of this because no matter how much he loved her, he wasn’t good for anyone. He was the reason she was in the position she was in. He was going to cost her everything. Her family. Her memories. They would always be tainted now.

He’d cost her and had nothing to give in return. No family. No future. Just death and retribution.

“You sound very ruthless right now, Ten.” She’d taken a step back.

“I am. Don’t underestimate me, Faith. Did your father give you a file on me?”

She nodded. “I’m sure it was lies.”

“And that proves how naïve you are. Don’t you know the best cover is always the truth? Did he tell you I was a killer? Because I am. Did he tell you I’ve sent men like Theo Taggart out to die more times than I can count? Because I have. Did he tell you I’m not a man who stays? Because I won’t.”

“Why? You said you loved me.”

“My love doesn’t mean very much,” he replied with all the honesty he had. “Take your shower. I’ll be on the couch. We move out the minute this storm blows over.”

He turned and strode into the bedroom. He could hear Faith turning on the shower.

Every muscle in his body ached. He ached.

Fuck. Why had Theo done it? Why the fuck hadn’t he called his brother? Why the fuck hadn’t Theo let the goddamn Chinese take him? It wasn’t a fair exchange.

It was one more punishment. He got to live knowing he was alive because some shiny happy kid who could have had a future was dead. He was a piece of shit and he was walking around while Theo was lying in the rain.

He hadn’t even gotten Theo’s body. He’d had to tell Ian Taggart his brother had been left behind. He’d had Hutch open a line and despite the fact that it had been a rough connection, Ian had been able to hear. The op had gone to hell and Ten had lost two of Big Tag’s operatives. God, he’d cost Theo his life.

“Understood.” It was all Ian had said before the line had gone out. One word, but there had been an arctic chill to it.

Ian had been his only friend for so long. Ten hadn’t been a particularly good friend. He didn’t really understand how to be. Spending all these months at McKay-Taggart had changed him. They didn’t run like the Agency. They might work in the shadows from time to time, but they didn’t live in them. He finally understood why Taggart had walked away from his job.

He’d wanted a life. He’d wanted a place where he didn’t treat men and women like chess pieces, deciding who to keep and lose based on how the game was going.

It was all Ten knew. It was the only place he fit.

The shower turned off. She’d moved quickly. He tried not to imagine her naked. The funny thing was he wasn’t thinking about sex. His dick wasn’t engaged at all. It might never work again after what they did to him. He was thinking about the feel of her skin against his, the warmth he would feel when she wrapped herself around him. He hadn’t realized how cold he’d been until he met her.

He would take her to Dallas and then walk away. It was the best he could do for her. Despite the fact that he’d gotten Big Tag’s brother killed, Ian would look out for Faith. He would watch over Phoebe. He would take care of the women Ten loved. They would be safe.

When the time came, Big Tag would bury him because that was the kind of man he was.

Ten wished he could be that man. He wished he could take back the last few hours. If he could go back to that one moment in time, he would have taken the lead and stepped out into the road. He would happily take the bullet that destroyed Theo.

If he had, would Faith have looked at him one last time? Would she have held his hand and cried? Would he have gone out feeling something more than bitterness and regret? Yes, that would have been a better outcome.

The door opened and she walked in wearing the T-shirt he’d left for her. It hung down to her knees. He hated the fact that she was wearing Nick’s shirt. Something primal inside him wanted her wearing his, but he didn’t even have that to give her. He was going to have to wear the scrubs or borrow something from Theo.

Fuck.

“You shouldn’t sleep on that thing. It’s too small for you.” She had a towel wrapped around her head, showing off the graceful line of her neck. She looked so small in Nick’s shirt. Small and fragile.

It didn’t take very much imagination to replace the image of Theo with hers. Faith, silent and dead, all her goodness nothing but garbage in his wake.

“I’ll survive.” He wouldn’t sleep anyway.

“All right.” She turned to go back into the bathroom but before she made it to the door she whirled around, a stubborn look on her face. “No. No, it’s not all right. Take off your shirt, Tennessee. Don’t even try to argue with me. I’m the top in this particular situation and I won’t let you order me around.”

“This situation?”

“Yes, the situation where I’m the doctor and you’re the patient,” she explained. “You’ve just spent days being tortured. I’m going to take a look at you whether you like it or not.”

Somehow the thought of her putting impersonal hands on him seemed cruel. “I’m fine. I don’t need attention, Faith. I want you to save your energy for someone who needs it.”

“Needs it? Or deserves it? I’m starting to figure out a few things about you. This whole tough guy thing isn’t about you looking macho.”

He felt his eyes widen in surprise. “I don’t know what movie you’re watching, darlin’, but I got my ass handed to me. No. I am not trying to look macho or preserve my masculine mystique so you won’t think less of me. I’m not going to give you a rundown of all the ways your father cut me down to size. You’ve been through enough.”

She got down on her knees in front of him. “And so have you. I wasn’t accusing you of being arrogant. The opposite. You won’t accept care from me because you don’t think you deserve it. Guess what? That means nothing to me. I’m the doctor and everyone gets my care. I swore an oath a long time ago and I take it seriously. So take off your shirt and pants. I want to see everything.”

“Faith,” he began.

She frowned at him. “I won’t touch you if you don’t want me to. Well, I mean not in a sexual way.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means I don’t know how I feel. It means everything is twisted up and the world kind of sucks and I know our time is almost up. It means let me take care of you. Not because you think you deserve it but because I need to do something. Please.”

How was he supposed to argue with that? With aching arms, he pulled the shirt over his head and let her see the damage.

* * * *

Faith had to take a deep breath. Ten’s body had been covered in scars before, but he had some new ones. Little circles of burned flesh surrounded by raised welts. He had to be in pain, but she was starting to think Ten was the masochist in their relationship.

She forced that thought aside. They didn’t have a relationship. At least not one that would ever last. She couldn’t be that girl, couldn’t be the sad pathetic thing who ran into the arms of the man who had lied to her, used her.

It was easier to focus on the burns. “Someone cleaned these.”

He nodded. “Your sister. She’s quite the doc herself. I didn’t understand why at the time. I kind of thought they were going to kill me so cleaning me up and making sure the wounds didn’t get infected seemed counterproductive. Now I know they were saving me for MSS.”

Despite her sister’s efforts, all the physical activity of the evening had caused a few of the welts to open. She reached into the small first aid kit they’d brought along and took out the antiseptic. It would hurt, but any man who’d taken this and not gone insane could take the sting she was about to give him. Besides, if she was right, Tennessee likely welcomed the pain.

He didn’t think he was worth saving, and now he was in a deep dive over Theo’s death. She’d felt it herself, but it wasn’t until she’d really listened to the man that she realized Ten’s grief was actually guilt.

He hadn’t expected them to come for him. He’d expected to die.

Despite all the pain he’d caused her, she had to acknowledge that he’d given her joy, too. Nothing had felt as real as making love with this man.

Why hadn’t he fought the night her father had taken him? There had been a balcony to his left. It was entirely possible he could have made it. He was smart and strong. He was quick and beyond capable. This was a man who had been in tight spots before and fought his way out.

Yet when her father had come for him, he hadn’t fought at all. In fact, he’d been polite to the man who had killed his brother.

Somehow, it didn’t jibe with the reports she’d read on him.

He winced a little, but otherwise made no sound as she cleaned his wounds. Like Nick, who had been far too traumatized by seeing his lover killed to care about his pain.

How much trauma could a soul take before it shut down? Before it gave over and began to think the trauma was normal? The body often adapted in a search for survival. The soul did the same. Ten had come to accept pain was a way of life and that he deserved it.

The day had been so long. She wasn’t certain of anything except that she couldn’t let him sleep on this tiny couch. And she couldn’t sleep without knowing why he hadn’t fought.

“Your sister gave me some kind of drug,” he said quietly. “You talked about your patients at the clinic. You know, the ones who received the vaccine. They had memory issues, right?”

She studied the veins of his legs. In extreme cases, electrical torture could cause vascular spasms and disrupt blood flow, but it looked like her father had been leaving that for the Chinese. “Yes. They thought more time had passed than actually had. After the episode, their perceptions of time went back to normal. Did she tell you what she was giving you?”

He shook his head. “No, but I know I got more than one dose, and apparently at some point I blacked out completely because I don’t remember putting on these clothes. I vaguely remember being someplace white. There was a bright light and she was standing over me with a clipboard. She was talking about how well my system handled the drug.”

Bitch. She had a clinic down there for her experiments, but she hadn’t helped Theo and Des. She hated her sister in that moment, but she needed to know more. “How long do you think you were there?”

“I know it wasn’t more than a two full days, but Faith, I swear it was forever. I’ve been in this position before. I was trained to be able to take this kind of torture, but when I was on that drug, I had no control and it dragged on and on. I couldn’t meditate, couldn’t force my mind to go anywhere else.”

She sat back, her stomach clenching. “She couldn’t. It’s not real.”

“What’s not real?”

“What you’re talking about.” What had her sister done? “It’s called time dilation. It’s a future tech thing, a theory. They talk about it in science fiction. I know I’ve heard some people are making strides in memory manipulation, but we’re supposed to be years away from something like this.”

“Wait. I’ve heard of it. The Agency sent out some information on potentially dangerous technology being developed. One was a time dilation drug.” He shook his head with a rueful grimace. “It’s supposed to trick the brain into thinking more time has passed than actually has. I can now say that it’s a very effective torture technique. Quite frankly, I’m surprised I’m not more seriously injured.”

“You wouldn’t have to be physically. Your brain gave you the pain. I can’t believe she’s doing this. She tested her drug on my patients.”

“It doesn’t shock me at all. I suspect your sister is doing what her company wants her to do. Kronberg is suspected of being in a group called The Collective. It’s a loose association of some of the world’s richest men. Think of it as a cartel, but they’re aiding each other in business interests. They’re a ‘by any means necessary’ kind of group.”

“The Collective? I’ve heard that word before.”

Ten sat forward. “Your father has mentioned The Collective? To you?”

She searched her memory. That word had caught. It was something she’d heard her father say a few times before. He wasn’t as careful as he thought he was or he’d trusted that she would never understand what he meant.

“He kept a log. He called it his collection. Maybe it isn’t the same thing. He would joke that he had a collection. It was names in a notebook. I was a kid. He didn’t care that I was in the room. Hope and I would play in his office all the time when we were out of school, and I remember him telling me it was important to keep lists.” She couldn’t get the idea out of her head. Her father always had backups. He always had a way out.