Forsaken (9 page)

“After the accident…when I left. I asked you—”

“You asked me not to drink. You asked me not to give in. Not to turn to the alcohol because…you were leaving me.”

“Have you?”

He looked at her, his face as solemn as she’d ever seen it. “Not a drop. I swear.”

“And you’re good for your word?”

“Yes.” The response hung between them, going nowhere.

She stopped her travels at the driver’s side door of the truck and grabbed the handle. “You also promised never to contact me again. Yet there you were in my living room, pointing a gun at my head. Fucking liar.”

He opened his mouth, but she waved away the words. Nothing he could have said would change anything. No defense existed for what he’d done. He’d stolen her faith with his lies, and in a way he’d taken her daddy too. The memories she clung to were now tainted with the secret her father kept, with the betrayal of siding with Gage, of allowing her to trust him while he made a fool of her. The whole town of Barefoot had probably laughed behind her back. Some might have even said she got what she deserved, and maybe they were right. But the lie was over, and at least now she knew she’d gotten one thing right. Steeling herself against his betrayal, she met Gage’s eyes. “I can’t do this.”

“You can’t do what?”

“
This
. Just…call Maverick. Order up another truck or whatever you do. Just…goodbye, Gage.”

She paused, waiting for him to say something. But there was only silence buoyed by a cloud of anger and hurt. Tense seconds crawled past before he opened his mouth and then closed it. Then, without speaking, he held up his palms and stepped away from the truck.

Gage didn’t even try to stop her from going.

Flying blind through a mask of tears, she got in Maverick’s truck and left.

Chapter Ten

Gage stood in the parking lot, helpless to do anything but watch her leave. Adding insult to injury—he figured Maverick could aid in the injury aspect—she’d taken his gun and the note she’d written him. He hadn’t thought to remove either from the truck when he’d jumped out to smooth things over. Clearly, he’d also neglected to take the keys. At least he had his cell phone, and he’d need it to ask Maverick for another ride.

That was not a conversation wrought with favored anticipation.

He turned the cell phone over in his hand a few times, trying to come up with an excuse to put off the inevitable. In the process, he saw he had a missed call.

Maverick.

Gage dialed his voice mail as he walked across the parking lot.

“Fun factoid,” Maverick said on the recording. “On the way to rehab, Colt’s transport vehicle had a little accident. Well, not so little…it T-boned another car. The transport driver had to be hauled off in an ambulance. They had to send in a second one to get Colt to the new facility.”

Perfect. Gage ended the call, determined there was no future for him in investigation. Two solid days of trying to figure out why his brother was dead and Riley a target, and all Gage had was a pile of random facts and a long walk home.

And memories of loving Riley that would have to sustain him for a long time to come, because she didn’t look in the mood for forgiveness.

But first things first. She was still wanted by the law, and after dragging her into this mess, he at least wanted to set her free from it. Whatever that meant.

Whatever it
took
.

Gage was still sulking when he entered the rehab facility. Too distracted to remember how much he hated that lurking hospital smell, he sucked in a breath of sterile air and almost choked on it, much to the delight of the blonde at the front desk.

“Can I get you some water, sir?” she asked, rushing to his side.

He sidestepped her not-so-professional one-armed embrace and shook his head through a fit of coughs. “I’d like to visit a patient,” he said, blinking through watery eyes. He caught sight of her nametag, conveniently located over a bulging D cup-runneth-over. “Nina.”

“We refer to our guests as residents,” she said, flashing a canned hostess grin. But she remained close, her body in rude defiance of his personal space.

He quickened his steps to the front desk, hoping he’d be able to shed her there.

At the edge of expansive granite counter, she paused and trailed her fingertips down his shoulder—raking the gunshot wound through the fabric of his shirt, leaving him to bite the inside of his cheek with irritation. Finally, she stepped around the desk, positioned herself behind her computer, and looked up at him through her eyelashes. “What’s the name of the resident you’re here to see, honey?”

Having to deal with her flirting on the heels of Riley’s departure sickened him, but he’d suffer through it. As long as Nina gave him Colt’s room number, she could think what she wanted. “Resident, then. Colt Beckett.”

“Oh.” She dropped her hands to her lap, keyboard untouched. “I’m afraid I can’t give you Mr. Beckett’s room number. He’s requested not to have visitors.”

“What?”

Nina folded her arms on the desktop in classic
case closed
body language. “Mr. Beckett has an order on file that he not receive visitors.”

Fuck
. He’d assumed the ban was on Riley alone. “There must be some kind of mistake.”

“No, sir, no mistake.” The standoffish-folded-arm gesture moved from the desktop to her chest.

So much for staying off the radar
. Sighing inwardly, Gage reached into his pocket and pulled a fake badge from its recesses. “Detective Robert Fallon,” he said in a stage whisper. He slid the badge out of sight before she could get a good look, and then leaned close. “I’m undercover. I need to see Colt. And let’s keep this between us so we don’t upset the
residents
, shall we?”

Nina—although doe-eyed—didn’t look convinced. “Our policy doesn’t allow—”

“I can call in a uniform, but I think this would be better”—he lowered his voice to an intimate, conspiratorial volume—“between you and me.”

She worried her bottom lip, glancing from him to the computer to the long hallway extending from the lobby behind him.

Was she wavering? At the very least, she didn’t make a move to call security.

“Well…” She hesitated.

“And maybe I can thank you over dinner?” he said, winking, disgusted with himself for resorting to flirtation. Whether or not Riley had written him off a second time, he didn’t know. Regardless, his heart belonged to her and he felt like an ass for acting otherwise. But if pretending to return Nina’s advances would help him figure out what the hell was going on back in Barefoot, he’d learn to live with himself.

Predictably, Nina lit up. “Okay, Detective Fallon. Right this way.” She rounded the desk and led the way to the right wing.

Gage followed, not paying as much attention to her sashaying rear end as Nina might have hoped. The room in question was at the end of the hall behind a door with a permanent
Do Not Disturb
sign on it. Engraved on a
plaque
.

Was Colt really that pissed off with the world?

“I’ll wait outside the door for you,” Nina said in a low voice. “So you’re not disturbed.”

Great. All he needed was a babysitter, especially when he’d likely have some convincing to do. Even if Colt hadn’t blackballed visitors, Gage would be the last guy Colt would want to see, and Gage didn’t need a witness to the shit hitting the fan. “Maybe you should wait at the front desk,” he said. “I don’t want you to lose your job over me or anything.”

She frowned and glanced toward the lobby.

He tried to conjure a smile and added, “I have to walk right past you on my way out anyway, right?”

“Okay, you’re right. Have a nice visit, Detective Fallon. Please keep your credentials available for other staff members, should anyone question you.” With a nod, she turned and swayed her way to the lobby, glancing over her shoulder as she went.

She smiled when she saw that he watched her go.

He swallowed a groan, but waited until she disappeared from view. Then he pushed open the door and slipped into the room.

It was dark and cool and, if not for the shape of Colt lying under the blankets, Gage would figure it for vacant. No personal effects littered the bedside table. The television was off, and the only noise was the hum of an air conditioner.

A pang of regret hit Gage like a punch to the gut. Accident or not, he caused this.

Colt showed no signs of knowing anyone was in the room. He lay motionless, his head turned in the direction of the heavily curtained window. The steady rise and fall of the blankets was the only indication of life.

Gage braced himself for the fallout. “Colt, it’s Gage. I need to talk to you about Riley. She’s in trouble.”

Colt didn’t move.

Gage ventured closer. Colt’s ruddy blond hair was tousled but trimmed, his face neatly shaven. What little bit of light escaped the window coverings lay across his familiar profile.

Standing there, in Colt’s reality, Gage felt sick.

“I need to ask you some questions,” he said. “About your dad’s gun. Did you tell anyone else about the safe? Did you give anyone the combination?”

Colt might have shifted his head, or maybe it was a shadow. Gage couldn’t be sure. He eased forward until he stood by the bed. “Colt? Come on, man. This is important.”

Nothing.

Gage reached for Colt’s shoulder, unsure if he would even feel the contact. When Gage’s fingers brushed Colt’s sleeve, Gage froze.

What the—?

“Colt?” Stunned, Gage tugged on the sleeve until it slid upward.

And then he knew.

“Fuck!” Heart pounding, Gage turned and sprinted from the room. He saw an emergency exit just a couple doors down and took it, praying he wouldn’t set off a bunch of alarms. As soon as his feet hit the pavement outside, he remembered he was stuck without a ride. Riley had his truck and his gun went with it, and Gage didn’t have time to wait for reinforcements. He glanced around the parking lot and spied a trio of maintenance vehicles in the corner.

Breathing hard, he darted for the most beat-up one in the bunch. He threw open the door and dove to the floorboard, fully intending to hotwire the truck, but luck was on his side. The keys were lying on the mat.

“Idiots,” he grumbled, slamming the door and firing the engine.

He had precisely one guess as to Riley’s whereabouts, and she had a hell of a head start.

His instinct had better be a damn good one.

The trip home from Tehcotah took less than an hour, and the more distance Riley put between herself and Gage, the worse she felt. She maintained her right to be angry that he kept the truth from her—learning her own father helped with the lie stung even more—but she also knew she was holding onto something they’d long since left behind. She’d forgiven everything else—even the accident, not that Gage could have changed anything. He just happened to be the guy behind the wheel when her world was ripped apart. He hadn’t deserved to shoulder blame alone.

Her anger back then had come at an immeasurable cost to them both.

Riley’s house slipped into view. She steered Maverick’s truck into her drive and parked next to her car, surprised it hadn’t been towed in light of her recent involvement in a crime spree. Dawson’s patrol car was gone, but the shattered front window of her home and a strand of crime scene tape offered reminder enough.

She sat in the truck, absentmindedly watching the yellow ribbon waver in the breeze and fighting the urge to turn around and drive right back to Gage. Unease washed over her in the form of a full body shiver when she realized she didn’t have his phone number, and she couldn’t find Maverick’s place again if her life depended on it. The sun was getting low, and the dimming light took her right back to the night Gage walked back into her life, weapon drawn, and changed everything all over again.

She knew she’d see him again. She just didn’t know what he’d come after: her or the truck.

The sounds of wildlife filled the woods around her and drifted through the open window, causing her to hesitate with her fingers on the door handle. Coyotes seldom hunted humans, but with the recent bloodshed in her yard and nearby sightings of bears and mountain lions—to say nothing of her run of bad luck—she opted not to take any chances. Riley grabbed the revolver from its spot on the console and tucked it into her purse, then hesitated just a moment before she tossed the note in after it. Taking a deep breath, she let herself out of the truck and made her way around the house, opting for the back door so she wouldn’t have to look at the blood stain she tried not to see on the front porch.

The crimson drew her attention anyway, refusing to be ignored.
I’m sorry, Dawson.

Walking into her kitchen again was bittersweet. The house smelled funny. Whether it had to do with the scene processing or was better attributed to her imagination, she couldn’t know. Something was just off. But after the past couple of days, what
wasn’t
?

Riley tucked her bag to her side and hugged her arms to her chest. She didn’t want to go in the front room, but she knew she’d never sleep until she put that particular task behind her. From her position in the doorway, the broken glass reminded her of the bullet that took a chunk out of Gage and her heart lurched, her emotions sprawling like the shards across the floor.

The window beckoned.

Glass crunched underfoot, but she kept her attention to the outdoors. She scanned the woods, the hairs on the back of her neck drawing to attention when she thought of a murderer there, waiting. He’d probably watched her drive up that day and let herself through the front door. Why hadn’t he killed her then? Chills raced down her spine, electrifying her limbs. The thought of dying didn’t bother her nearly as much as the thought of dying without knowing Gage again. What she wouldn’t give to have the past twelve months back.

Or to have a new window…she’d give a lot to have unbroken glass in the front room. Clearly, it wouldn’t stop a bullet, but that didn’t keep the idea from sounding like a good one. Riley shivered and gripped her bag. Going back to the house alone had been a ridiculous idea. Leaving it sounded like a plan.

She backed from the window, and her gaze swept the bloodstain Dawson left on the floor. In the waning light, it gaped black and threatening. Unsettled, sickened by the sight, she gasped and backpedaled, stumbling over her own feet in an attempt to put distance between her and the bloodshed.

“Something wrong, Riley?”

She froze.

The voice came from the darkest corner of the room.

She knew that voice.

She turned in a slow, deliberate motion. “Colt?”