Authors: Kennedy Layne
“You are not leaving,” Fallon reiterated, determination shining bright within her blue eyes. Her long blonde hair fell over her shoulders and was just tousled enough that she appeared to have just had sex instead of practicing her jujitsu. “I’ll call CSA in here if I need to.”
Ryland twisted her ankle back and yanked his arm at the same time, bringing her crashing down onto him. He cushioned her fall with his body before rolling her underneath him and pinning her arms above her head. Their lips were less than an inch apart. He’d love to be in this position on any other occasion, but now wasn’t the time. Her half guard had been weak and he easily outweighed her by seventy pounds, making her position untenable.
“Calling in Crest right now would only complicate my plans,” Ryland said softly, calculating the items at hand he could use to stall her ability to report his departure. There wasn’t anything within reach so he used the old standby. He switched her wrists into one hand and used the other to pull up her shirt. He gave her credit when she bucked up against him, almost succeeding in slipping out from underneath of him. She was a lot stronger than he’d given her credit for, as well as a very effective adversary. “I have my own agenda and will use my own methods to extract the information I need.”
Ryland had managed to pull Fallon’s shirt up and over her head, but in doing so he unintentionally gave the lower part of her body leverage. She jerked her knee up—with every ounce of strength she had judging from the shooting pain in his lower region—and managed to gain the upper hand by stunning him for a quick moment. She was standing over him while wearing only a pair of form-fitting sweat pants. She didn’t appear winded in the least while he swallowed against the nausea that had built up in his stomach.
“You’re making this harder than it needs to be,” Ryland gritted through his clenched teeth, finally managing to breathe in deeply and mentally absorb the pain as he’d been taught. He sat up, resting his arms on his knees as another memory tried to come through the heavy barriers lodged in his mind. “I will win in the end. I always have. So what will it be? The easy way or the hard way? Your choice.”
“It doesn’t have to be a choice,” Fallon said, her voice steady as she took a cautious step back. Smart. He reached for her shirt, which she’d left on the floor, when he realized that his weapon was no longer in its holster. He looked up to find that she was holding his Kimber at her side. “Don’t worry. I don’t point a firearm at anyone unless I intend to shoot them.”
“And you felt the need to take my weapon…why?” Ryland slowly stood, watching Fallon closely for any sign that she would change her mind. Anger and hurt mingled together at the mere thought she would think he would have drawn his weapon…at least that’s what he thought that one emotion was. It was an unfamiliar one at best. He honestly didn’t remember a time when he’d experienced that, which only fueled his desire for answers. “That’s right. I’m the psychopath killer that you want to fuck, but you’re too weak-minded to admit that you have a sexual taste for danger.”
Ryland could acknowledge that the one thing that had made him the most sought after assassin was that he could compartmentalize his emotions—at least those that he had left. Fallon didn’t have the capability and her evident surprise at his statement gave him the opening he needed. He had her up against the wall with her hands tied behind her back before she could even formulate a response. Her shirt, once again, had come in rather handy. There was something inside pushing him to make up for the harsh words he’d just spoken and he heeded the warning after securing his weapon.
“All’s fair in love and war, darling,” Ryland whispered against Fallon’s ear before turning her around to face him. He felt somewhat better at the fiery anger flaming in her blue eyes. “I wouldn’t take that in the literal sense, but it seemed the appropriate response to throw you off balance.”
Ryland lifted Fallon up in his arms as if he were going to carry her over the threshold. He only did so in order to prevent her from using those lethal long legs of hers. Fool him once…but not twice. There wasn’t a need to pull back the covers since she’d previously been in bed, so he gently deposited her before realizing there wasn’t a chance in hell of her staying put unless he physically tied her to the bed. He then made the decision to remove her pants and tied one leg of material around her ankles and the other one around the footboard. He then covered her body so that the person who came to check on her wouldn’t find her in the nude. It was odd that he found himself worrying about her modesty.
“I’ll notify Crest of your position once I’m away,” Ryland informed her before leaning down and closing his lips overs hers before she could talk. The little mink immediately bit his lip. Damn, that hurt. He stood and wiped away the smear of blood she’d managed to create. “I’ll remember that one.”
“This isn’t your smartest move,” Fallon said, catching Ryland by surprise. Here he thought she’d beg him not to leave her tied up for someone to find or even plead with him not to leave. She was always full of surprises. He walked over to collect his bags before turning back to find her relaxing against the mattress instead of fighting her bonds. With that said, she was also staring at the ceiling instead of looking his way. For some reason that made his chest tighten in discomfort. “You’ll need my resources.”
Ryland realized Fallon was attempting to extract information from him on where he was going, but she’d have to investigate it the old-fashioned way without any help from him. He wasn’t going to tell her his destination because she wouldn’t like what he would need to do upon arrival. Nor would he divulge his fallback plan, for that included a person rather close to her whom he figured she’d go to great lengths to defend.
“I have all the resources I need in place, Fallon.”
Ryland walked out the bedroom door and down the stairs, having already taken the car keys she’d shoved into her laptop case. He lifted one bag to his shoulder, gingerly walking outside into the cold night air. She’d caused him to be rather sore in such a sensitive area and he vowed next time it wouldn’t be due to physical injury parceled out to prevent his departure.
F
allon finished dressing, angry with herself that she’d let Ryland get the upper hand even though he was a top-shelf assassin and there had been little hope of her antics keeping him from doing whatever he wanted to in the first place. Taryn had been the one to arrive within thirty minutes of his departure to untie her, for which she had been very grateful. It was humiliating enough to have allowed Ryland to gain the advantage, but to then add on Crest’s knowing gaze would be more than she could bear. She figured he’d be arriving soon enough, but then again he could very well still be in Washington D.C. investigating their few remaining leads.
“Uh-oh,” Taryn observed, stirring a spoon in a cup of steaming liquid that had a distinctly lighter color than her usual drink as she inspected Fallon’s apparel. She ignored the perusal. It appeared that Taryn had changed back to tea from the copious amounts of coffee she used to drink. It didn’t matter. Fallon had other things on her mind at the moment. She crossed the room to retrieve her laptop, along with the list of men who Ryland had mentioned earlier. “Back to your black pant suit with your hair secured in a…is that a bun of some sort or a cluster?”
“It’s called a knot,” Fallon replied automatically, zipping her case closed. She grabbed the handles and placed it next to the travel bag that Taryn had been so kind to bring her. They’d never really spoken before about Fallon’s brief affair with Ethan and she really didn’t want to cover it now. The situation was embarrassing enough without adding fuel to the fire. The past was the past. Fallon was very happy that the two of them had found one another and wished them nothing but the best. “I know you didn’t come alone. Are at least one of the men outside in another vehicle?”
“I’m taking you directly to the airport.” Taryn tapped the spoon on the rim of her cup and then laid it on a napkin before taking a sip of her tea. “For which you’re more than appropriately dressed, I might add. He must have really gotten under your skin for you to suit back up like Clinical Psychoanalyst Barbie.”
“Just say it,” Fallon instructed rather bluntly and with a bit too much edge, reluctantly walking back to the counter when all she wanted to do was be on her way. She had an idea of where Ryland was going and she’d like to be there before he did something he couldn’t take back. Huh. She reconsidered that thought in retrospect. It was laughable, considering his track record of carnage. The thing of it was…he was starting to let Travis reappear and she wasn’t sure how Ryland would react when all of his emotions were finally set free. She sighed in resignation, awaiting her unsolicited lecture about how incredibly dangerous her self-destructive actions were, wanting the upcoming conversation out of the way. “Why don’t I sum it up for you since I’m apparently in need of some sisterly advice? I’m wasting my time on a psychopathic killer with no understanding of the word
remorse
and no hope of ever gaining one. I’m setting myself up for a gigantic failure…so on and so on. I’ve heard it all at least a dozen times from every CSA team member, so you go ahead and tell me what I don’t know. Say it one more time so I can get on the road.”
Taryn remained silent as she nursed her tea, even leaning down so that she could rest her elbows on the counter. She was petite with a carefree hairstyle that made her appear more like a pixie. Her blonde hair was cut short in a choppy chic way that suited her personality. Ethan definitely had his hands full with this one, but the happiness written on his face was all that his friends and family needed to see to prove that Taryn was the right woman for him.
“I wouldn’t pretend to have the right to tell you what to do or who to do it with, Fallon.” Taryn carefully set her cup down onto the counter before continuing. “I spent quite a while in Texas investigating my father’s affair and the resulting fallout of that situation. Yvette Capre—Ryland’s half-sister by his mother—and then me ending up being her half-sister appeared to be more than a coincidence, but fate tends to mock us every now and then. I understand how you could get caught up into the life of the young man Travis Bowers was, because a part of me felt that way too. I spoke to people who knew him—his friends, his teachers, the staff his family employed. Their description is a complete one-eighty from the man who became the world’s most sought after assassin. I wish I could be the one to go against the odds here, but there’s nothing you can do to get him back. Whatever the E.D.A. did to him destroyed any humanity that he had left. Travis Bowers is dead. All that remains is the evil creature that Doctor Frankenstein has created.”
Fallon recalled being in Ryland’s arms when he whispered against her ear
I didn’t think I’d care what you called me, but I was wrong
. Somewhere, locked away inside of him, was the man everyone swore had been eradicated. Would he be the same innocent soul he once was should Ryland’s memories return? Absolutely and irrevocably not. The blood on his hands could never be washed away completely, but those same hands could be used to do some healing instead of killing. Atoning for one’s sins wasn’t easy, but she’d seen it done a thousand times by people just as lost as Ryland and not quite so notorious as him.
“See, that’s where you’re wrong. His childhood memories do remain intact,” Fallon said matter-of-factly, glancing at her watch. They didn’t have time to rehash the same conversation she was constantly having with everyone else in Crest’s chain of command. She’d profiled him, studied him, and took the time to get to know him—just like Taryn. But no one could understood Ryland like Fallon did and while some might say she was rationalizing her attraction to him, she’d made a major discovery when he’d left her less than an hour before—he could have easily disposed of her with his weapon and never once did he try to go for it. As a matter of fact, she was relatively sure that she’d hurt him when she took his firearm and suggested that he might have used it on her. There had been a shard of pain in his eyes that was gone as quickly as it had appeared; however, it
had
materialized which meant that all those naysayers were wrong. “You can either take me to the airport and spare me your pedestrian insight or I’ll find a way there myself. What’s it going to be, Taryn?”