Rogue Renegades (Rogue Trilogy) (6 page)

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It was getting late when
Abby heard two sets of footsteps approaching. Someone spoke quietly and her instincts had her moving to the door. She’d learned to recognize all of the guards and this was a new voice. She couldn’t hear what he was saying, but the tone towards the end sounded decidedly mocking.

When gunfire sounded a few seconds later, she yanked open the door and
peered down the hall. Ryan had left the door unlocked just in case they had to make a quick getaway. She saw him sprinting towards her and didn’t flinch when he lifted his gun. He shot both of the guards standing at the door and motioned for her to run.

Holding onto her purse
tightly, she ran for the door just as Ryan reached her. He shouldered it open and linked his arm through hers as he headed towards the nearest vehicle. It was an unspoken policy to leave the keys in the cars in the event that they were ever raided. Ryan leaped into the driver’s seat of a rusty old jeep and Abby dove in through the other door. He fired up the vehicle and put his foot down on the accelerator. Their wheels spun in the dirt and they took off as men appeared in the doorway and began to fire. Abby simultaneously ducked and pulled her elbows in close when a bullet pinged into the dashboard. It missed her arm by a fraction.

Swerving
to avoid being the barrage of bullets, Ryan slowed momentarily and shot the front tires of a truck that blocked most of the other cars. Diego stepped into view in the rearview mirror as Ryan sped off. His nemesis offered a sarcastic wave with one hand before he was lost from sight. The wave promised that they would meet again and that their encounter would be unpleasant.

“I take it you didn’t get to finish your
mission,” Abby said as she turned to face the front. She’d gotten a brief look at the man that had waved at them. He would have a scar from the bullet that had scored his left cheek.

“No,”
Ryan said curtly. “He was right there in front of me and I missed him.”

“Looks like you didn’t miss him completely,” she murmured and noticed the hole in his
T-shirt. She scooted closer and pulled his shirt away from his neck so she could judge how bad the wound was. It wasn’t bad at all, she was glad to see. Blood oozed sluggishly from the shallow graze.

Ryan
breathed in the scent of Abby’s hair as she examined his injury. Miranda would have hung out the window to vomit at the sight of blood, but Abby merely searched inside her purse and pulled out a handkerchief. She pressed it against his graze until it became firmly stuck to his wound. “That should stop the bleeding until we can find a first aid kit.”

“You’re awfully calm
about being shot at,” Ryan observed with a frown.

“Maybe I’m in shock,” Abby said lightly as she looked back over her shoulder to check for pursuit. The jungle behind them remained dark and
Ryan drove fast. It was highly unlikely that they would be overtaken.

“Do you have your passport on you?”
Ryan asked his far too calm passenger.

“Yes.” Unlike her fellow tourists, she’d ignored the advice to leave her important documents behind at the hotel whenever she took a day trip.
She might have walked away from her job, but her training was instilled in her forever. Abby would never leave herself vulnerable to being trapped in whatever country she was visiting. She’d only brought one passport with her on this trip, but had a collection of them back home. She wasn’t in trouble with the law in Brazil and she should be able to return to the US with minimal trouble. Abby had no desire to visit any more of the country. She’d had enough excitement for one week already.

“I’ll need to get cleaned up
then I’ll drive you to the airport and put you on the first plane back to the States,” Ryan said. He hid his crushing disappointment that he’d failed his mission. He’d had one shot at taking Montoya down and he’d never get that close to him again. Diego would surround himself with bodyguards from now on and he’d make it as difficult as possible for Ryan to even shoot him from a distance with a sniper rifle. He would have to regroup, wait for his quarry to become complacent and try again at a later date.

It was almost dawn before they entered
the outskirts of Rio and stopped in front of a dilapidated hotel. The clerk was half-asleep as they stepped up to the counter. He took their money and handed over a key to a room on the second floor.

Ryan
took the lead and headed up the stairs. They climbed in silence, alert for any sounds of pursuit. Unlocking their door, Ryan searched the small room. Apart from the tiny bathroom, there were few places to hide. The bed took up most of the room and it was too low to the ground for anyone to hide beneath. The closet was empty and a few roaches fled when he opened the door.

Abby made no comment at the shabbiness and general squalor of the room when Ryan gestured for her to enter. The
yellow paint was peeling from the walls and ceiling. The carpet was musty and had once been light gray. It was closer to black now and she wondered how long it had been since it had last been vacuumed. The linen looked clean enough, not that she’d be using the bed.

Ryan handed the key to Abby after inspecting their room
. She’d had no sleep and had been through hell, yet she still looked fresh and beautiful. “I’m going to find some medical supplies,” he said. “Make sure it’s me before you open the door.”

Rolling her eyes at the unnecessary admonition, she pushed him towards the door. “Just hurry
up and get back before infection sets in.”

Ryan
quietly retreated to the ground floor and stepped out onto the street. It took him nearly twenty minutes to find a store that was open and sold medical supplies. He didn’t even earn a twitch of curiosity from the man behind the counter when he handed over the small pile of medical supplies. In this part of town, knife wounds and bullet wounds were all too common.

He headed back to the hotel
and remained alert for Montoya’s men. Stopping down the street from the hotel, he looked up at the second floor. He spied Abby’s face briefly in the window before she stepped back out of sight. Increasingly intrigued by her, he knew he had no right to ask her any questions. He’d put her in danger when he’d kidnapped her and she’d been forced to kill a man to defend herself. He was lucky she hadn’t run for the police the moment his back had been turned.

Pausing
for a few moments, he searched for anyone watching the hotel with too much interest. No one seemed to be lurking nearby, so he crossed the street and climbed back up to the second floor. Abby opened the door at his light knock.

Taking the supplies
from Ryan, Abby motioned to the bed. “Take your shirt off and sit down.”

Raising
a brow at her preemptory tone, Ryan did as instructed. He took the shirt off and sat wearily. Adrenalin had kept him going for a while, but exhaustion was making itself known. He needed to sleep and now was the worst possible time to give into his weariness. He needed to get Abby to the airport and safely on a plane back home.

Stepping into the bathroom, Abby soaked a washer then returned to
Ryan. He looked tired and defeated. She had no idea why he’d wanted that man dead, but he was devastated that he’d failed to kill him. If she hadn’t vowed not to use her skills ever again, she’d have offered to help him hunt the man down. “Who is he?” she asked as she put the sopping wet washer on the handkerchief. It would be easier to remove when it was soaked.

“His name is Diego Montoya,”
Ryan said. There was no harm in telling her his name, since she’d soon be on a plane and heading far away from Brazil.

“I take it he is the leader of the
criminal underworld in Rio?”

“You could say that,”
Ryan said with a small smile, then winced slightly at the sting when Abby peeled off the handkerchief.

Checking the
wound, Abby was happy to see only a small trickle of blood welling up. The wet washer had helped to remove the handkerchief without causing too much damage. She was curious about why Ryan wanted Montoya dead, but sensed his reasons were far too private to share with a virtual stranger. Even one he’d brought to an intense orgasm more than once, not that he knew about the first two instances.

Ryan
was surprised when Abby didn’t badger him with questions. She accepted the little that he divulged without complaint. Her touch was delicate as she slathered antiseptic ointment on his wound. It didn’t need stitches, thankfully, and she placed a dressing over it then taped it in place. Clearly, she’d done this before.

Abby
tried hard not to stare at Ryan’s shoulders, chest and sculpted abs as she treated his wound. She wanted to push him onto his back and use her body to take away his misery, but she knew their time together was almost over.

Ryan reached behind him and took something out of his back pocket. He handed the small blue box to her. “I thought you might
like this as a memento of your trip to Brazil,” he said with a half-smile.

“As if I’ll need any reminders,” she said almost beneath her breath. Opening the
box, she stared down at the small yet exquisitely crafted pendant on a golden chain. The pendant was a lioness with blue-gray eyes that seemed to stare right at her. “It’s lovely,” she said with a puzzled frown. Why on earth would he give her a gift? She had the distinct feeling that she’d played a part in his failure to kill Montoya. She’d come between his instinct to get the job done and to protect someone that he thought was a helpless victim. If she’d told him who she really was, he’d have concentrated on eradicating his target rather than on keeping her safe.

Shrugging,
as if he wasn’t sure why he’d given it to her, Ryan winced at the stab of pain that went through his torn shoulder with the movement. “It reminded me of you,” he said quietly. “Fierce and beautiful.”

Moved by his explanation, Abby was torn.
For a moment, she debated about giving it back to him, then decided to keep it. No man had ever given her a gift before and she found she did want a reminder, but of Ryan rather than Brazil itself. “Thank you,” she said then stepped into the bathroom. She wanted to wash his blood off her hands before she touched the necklace.

Lying down,
Ryan closed his eyes with the intention of resting for a few moments and instead slid into an exhausted slumber.

Washing then drying her hands, Abby fastened the neckla
ce around her neck. The lioness’s eyes were almost the exact same shade as hers, which was most likely why he’d been drawn to it. It looked expensive and she wondered how much it had cost him and what his girlfriend would think if she knew he’d given a gift to another woman.

Abby felt a strange and unwelcome tenderness sweep through her
when she stepped back into the bedroom and saw that Ryan had fallen into a deep asleep. Handsome, masculine and extremely capable, he nevertheless looked like a lost little boy. Moving over to the bed, she gave into temptation and ran her fingers through his hair.

“Miranda?”
Stirring from his poignant dream of the past, Ryan murmured the name of his long dead wife before subsiding back into sleep.

Abby
drew her hand back when Ryan said another woman’s name. He wasn’t hers and he never would be. It would be best for them both if she just walked away without bothering to say goodbye. They’d shared an experience that had been intense and fraught with danger. They’d momentarily been drawn together in mutual passion that they hadn’t dared to fully consummate. Now that their peril was over, it was time to return to whatever passed for their normal lives.

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Using the small
hotel notepad and pen to leave a note, Abby took one last look at Ryan before leaving. She wanted to lock the sight of his beautiful body and face into her mind forever.

Finally forcing herself into action, she grabbed her purse and left the room.
Locking the door, she slid the key beneath the sizable crack so he’d be able to leave once he woke. She took the stairs to the ground floor and ghosted out through the door while the clerk’s back was turned.

Abby took to the streets, walking fast
but keeping her eye out for Montoya’s men. She found an old car parked in an alley and checked to make sure no one was around before opening the door. It was a dilapidated piece of junk and the owner hadn’t bothered to lock it. He or she probably thought no one would be desperate enough to steal it. It took her a couple of minutes to hotwire it then the motor roared to life. She took off before the owner woke up and came to investigate the noise.

Debating about returning to her hotel for her belongings
or driving straight to the airport, Abby decided it would be a good idea to go to the hotel first. Her flight was due to leave in a few hours and there was a good chance that her tour group was still at the hotel. She’d most likely been declared as missing by them days ago, which could cause complications when tried to board the plane. Her name would have been flagged with the authorities and she didn’t want someone pulling her aside at the airport to question her about her disappearance.

The small, rusty car made the journey
through the large city without dying and she parked several blocks away from her hotel. She walked the rest of the way, glad that she’d worn hiking boots. The relieved look on the receptionist’s face told her that word had definitely spread about her kidnapping.

“I’m fine,” she said before the girl could
bombard her with questions. “I managed to get away, but it took me a while to find my way back here,” she said by way of explanation. “I’ll be in my room if anyone needs to speak to me.” She had no doubt that the cops would be called. The receptionist was already reaching for the phone as she stepped into the elevator.

Well aware of the types of questions the cops would ask,
Abby quickly showered and changed into fresh clothes. She wadded her old clothes up, stepped into the hall and tossed them down the trash chute. Hopefully, they’d land in a pile of garbage and would become too encrusted with filth to tell that they’d been relatively clean when she’d arrived. The story that she’d concocted wouldn’t hold up if they examined her clothing in detail. They weren’t dirty enough for her to have been trudging through the jungle for four days.

It took a full hour before a knock came at her door. Instead of the cops,
it was the couple that had tried to stop her from being kidnapped by Ryan. Their names were Gary and Cecelia. Gary was a retired judge and, even though he was elderly, he was still a formidable man.

“We just heard
from the receptionist that you’d returned and we had to check on you,” Cecelia said. Her eyes were teary as she looked the younger woman over for any signs of injuries.

“Are you alright?” Gary asked her.
His blue eyes were faded with age, but they were still sharp. They barely knew her and their concern was genuine and touching.

Smiling
wearily at the pair, she stepped aside to let them enter. Her room was much cleaner and nicer than the one she’d left Ryan in. The carpet was light green to match the wallpaper. The bed was smaller than she was used to, but it was soft and comfortable. Best of all, the bathroom was spacious and clean.

“I’m fine
,” she told the pair. It was obvious that they didn’t believe her. “Really, I wasn’t with the banditos long enough to be harmed.”

They took a seat at the small
dining table and Gary looked at her with a direct stare that would have made a bad guy squirm on the stand. “You’ve been gone for four days.”

“I know,” she said ruefully. Her explanation was cut short
when another, much curter, knock came at the door.

Gary stood, motioned for the two women to remain seated and moved to the door. He looked through the peephole
then glanced at Abby. “It’s a police officer,” he said quietly. “I’d like to stay while he questions you.”

Glad to have him on her side, Abby nodded. “I’d like that.”
She could act like an exhausted victim who was too tired to go into a long, drawn out explanation of her ordeal. Frankly, it wouldn’t be much of a stretch at the moment.

Gary opened the door and
a lone cop entered. Abby knew instantly that he was an honest man rather than a dirty one. The concern on his face was genuine and unforced. “Ms. Parker?” he asked. A nametag pinned to his white button up shirt told her his name was Manuel Rodrigues. He’d rolled the sleeves up in concession to the heat.

“Yes,” she replied.

“I am glad to see you have returned safely. Can you tell me where you have been for the past four days?”

“After I was kidnapped by those men, we drove through the jungle for a few hours.
We finally came to a stop in a clearing and I was taken into a building.”

“What did the building look like?” Rodrigues asked.

“It was too dark to make out much,” she said with convincing regret. “It was small, cramped and had only a few rooms inside.”

“How many men were there?”

“I saw twenty or so.” There had been twice that number, but it was pointless to tell him the truth. Montoya wouldn’t stick around long enough to be caught. The compound would be stripped of anything of value before the men shifted to another base.

“Can you describe
any of these men?”

Making a helpless gesture with one hand, she shook her head. “They looked like you,” she sa
id. “Dark hair and eyes, black T-shirts and cargo pants. They carried assault rifles, handguns and knives.”

“Did you overhear any names?”

“I heard them mention the name Diego Montenegra, or something like that, a few times.”

His
ears perked up at that. “I believe the name is Diego Montoya,” he corrected her. “Did you see this man?”

Shaking her head, she crossed her arms and
pretended to shiver. “I didn’t really see anyone, apart from the man who grabbed me. He locked me in a room as soon as we reached their base.”

“Did he assault you?” Rodrigues asked
as delicately as possible. His dark eyes were compassionate and reflected his relief when she shook her head. Cecelia gave a small sob of relief as well.

“No. He didn’t get the chance
to. I managed to escape shortly after I was locked in the room.”

“How did you escape?”

“The window was barred, but one of the bars was loose,” she lied. “The gap was just wide enough for me to squeeze through. Once I was free, I hid in the jungle until morning then tried to make my way back to the city.”

“Why did it take you four days to find your way back?”
he asked.

“I got lost,” she said ruefully. “It took me three days to find a road and I hid every time I heard a car. It took me all night and half of the day to walk back to the hotel.”

“Is there anything you can tell me about where these men took you?” Rodrigues asked. “Did you notice which direction they took?”

“
West?” she said uncertainly. They’d actually headed north, not west, but she didn’t want to give him the exact location of the compound just in case Ryan headed back there to search for his quarry.

“Abigail is exhausted from her ordeal,” Gary said to the
officer. “I am sure she would just like to return home. Our flight is due to leave in three hours and we should really be on our way.”

Grateful to the former judge
for stepping in, Abby nodded her agreement. Almost half of their group would be leaving on the same flight. The rest were due to leave a couple of hours later.

Frowning down at the few notes he’d taken, Rodrigues met her eyes. He knew she was hiding something, but he had no grounds to keep her in
Rio. “I sincerely apologize for any harm that you sustained during your visit. If you would like, I can escort you to the airport.”

“We’d like that,” Cecelia said firmly before either Abby or Gary refused the offer.
She was still shaken by Abby’s sudden disappearance and she wasn’t about to suffer through another attempted kidnapping.

It only took Abby a few minutes to pack and
to join the rest of her group in the lobby. Everyone was ecstatic that she’d returned unharmed, but they didn’t have much time to celebrate before heading for the lineup of taxis. Abby and Cecelia climbed into the back of the first cab while Gary took the front seat. Rodrigues led the procession in his squad car during the trip to the airport. Staying in his car, he waved at the group of Americans as they disappeared inside the building.

E
verything ran smoothly right up until they were about to head for the metal detectors. Remembering the knife in her bag, Abby ducked out of the line with a word to Cecelia that she had to go to the bathroom. Standing in the cubicle, she used toilet paper to wipe the blade clean of her prints then flushed and made her way to the basins. Waiting for the only other female in the room to leave, she took the knife out of her purse and dropped it into the bin. She’d left no prints or DNA to tie the weapon to her.

Gary and Cecelia were waiting for her when she returned and took up a place at the back of the line. They were afraid to let her out of their sight for longer than a few minutes. Making their way through the metal detectors, they found their gate and waited
for their turn to be called to board.

Abby
took her seat in the middle of the plane and was amongst strangers. Gary and Cecelia were in first class and the closest person from her tourist group was several rows away. She was glad not to be pestered with questions about her ordeal. To avoid conversation with her fellow passengers, she pretended to read during the long trip home.

Landing
in LA, she only had time to say a brief goodbye to the judge and his wife before she had to rush to catch her flight to Washington. This trip was much shorter and she sank into the back seat of a taxi wearily. She’d only been gone for just over a week, but it had felt much longer than that.

It was late and traffic was light enough that she
made it home quickly. Unlocking her door, she pushed it all the way open to make sure no one was hiding behind it out of long habit. At long last, she was back in her spacious yet Spartan apartment. She’d been living here for just under a year now and the place still didn’t really feel like home. Unused to staying in one place for long, she’d never taken up the habit of home decorating. Her job as a special ops agent had her travelling all over the world and assuming dozens of identities over the past decade. Now she was out of the death business and was hiding in the last city her boss would think to look for her, right under his nose.

Her apartment had an open plan with a combined living
and dining area. Both had polished wooden floors. The kitchen was only moderately sized, but she didn’t need a lot of room to cook for one. She had three bedrooms, two of which were empty and she hadn’t bothered to fill with beds. Her furniture consisted of a black leather couch, a glass topped coffee table, a long, sleek black entertainment unit for the TV and a small dining table with four chairs. Her bed was large enough for three people, but she’d never shared it with anyone.

Taking a
long, hot shower, Abby dressed in a white singlet and panties, her usual bedroom attire. She felt strangely lonely when she lay down to sleep. In just a few short nights, she’d almost gotten used to sharing a bed with another person. She pictured Ryan as soon as she closed her eyes and shivered at the memory of his hands and mouth on her body. Forcing the images away, she wouldn’t let herself pine for a man that she couldn’t have. He was gone and it was time to put the whole experience behind her.

Lying
between her breasts, a pair of smoky blue-gray eyes glittered in a shaft of moonlight that fell through a gap in her curtain. The lioness pendant was her only link to Ryan and she wanted to keep it close.