Lone Rider (22 page)

Three weeks ago she’d have given anything for this moment. Three weeks. A lifetime ago. She looked at him, staring at his profile, the long wet queue of dark hair.

             
She leaned forward, tugging at his arm, unashamed of the tears. “I won’t go without you. It can’t end like this. We’ll find a way--”

             
From outside the voice cracked through the night. “It’s done. Release a hostage and nobody will get hurt.”

             
“Haynes,” Bogen hissed from behind them. “Get her out now! We’re leaving.”

             
Tess searched his eyes, disbelieving.
Dallas
wasn’t really considering leaving her. She’d seen the torment in his eyes earlier, knew he cared.

“Don’t leave me,” she pleaded. “Please.”

             
His response shocked her. He grabbed her arms, pinching the tender flesh. Gasping in pain she looked up, appalled by the uncompromising features on the face she adored. Contempt glittered from the silvery eyes she’d come to know intimately.

             
“Little fool,” Dallas shook her roughly. “You mean nothing to me. You were a convenience, a way to pass time. Now you’re a bargaining chip. Get out.”

             
He shoved her away, toward the door, then hurried off to follow Bogen. Her wet shoes skidded across the floor nearly causing her to lose her balance. God, what was happening? What had she done?

             
“We’ve kept our end of the deal,” the voice outside warned. “Send out a hostage or we move in.”

             
It was over.

             
Trembling, Tess walked toward the door, opening it without looking back and stepping onto the porch. The rain fell in torrents, pushed by the wind. Blinding lights greeted her, forcing her to shield her eyes.

She heard a sharp metallic
clack
as someone chambered a round. Her knees buckled. What if they shot her? How could
Dallas
do this to her?

             
She started to turn away, to run back in the house when a  voice called out. “It’s okay, ma’am. Just walk straight ahead.”

             
She was crying now, frightened. When she cleared the steps the man rushed forward, throwing a heavy vest over her.

“FBI, m
a’am. It’s bulletproof.”  She didn’t catch his name. He tugged the vest in place, shoving her head down as he hurried her away from the house. “Don’t let it worry you.”

             
The night came alive with activity. Grim
-
looking men and women -- some uniformed, some not -- swarmed over the clearing and the surrounding woods. All carried shotguns. Two officers hustled her into a waiting car, well away from the house.

             
One of them ducked his head into the car, oblivious to the water pouring in with him, peppering her with questions. “How many other hostages are inside? How many men are guarding them? Did you see what kind of weapons they have?”

             
Tess blinked. “I, I was the only hostage. I saw four men in the house, but...there could be more.” 
Dallas
,
forgive me
. “And they all have machine guns.”

             
Before she finished gun
shots echoed through the night.

“Stay down,” the man yelled, shoving her onto the floorboard. She buried her head on her knees as the gunfire escalated and grew deafening, covering her cries.

             
Just as quickly as it had begun, it was over. Someone yelled, headlights came on, people rushed about. “We’ll get you out of here soon, ma’am,” the man promised before hurrying away. “I’ll be right back.”

A loud rumble of thunder boomed, echoing like a cannon shot. Deadly.

             
“We need an ambulance at the back of the house.”  A voice came across the two-way radio in the front seat, causing her to stiffen.

Dallas
.

             
A vision of him lying on the ground, covered in blood, flashed through her mind, quickly followed by the picture of him yelling at her.
You mean nothing to me
!

She looked down at the leather jacket she wore, remembered how he’d wrapped her in it before leaving the house, assuring her comfort over his. Or so she’d thought. She hid her face in her hands, felt bile burn her throat. Sobs wracked her body. This couldn’t be happening.

             
The car door was wrenched open startling Tess. A tall, middle-aged man in a dark trench coat smiled at her, his kind eyes staring out from behind rain spattered glasses.

“I’m Barry Neilson, FBI, Washington.”  He reached down, squeezing her cold hand. “Are you okay, Miss Marsh?”

             
Tess shook her head, moving to get out of the close confines of the car in spite of the rain. Standing, she gulped in the night air, resting her head on the metal doorframe. Nothing made sense.

             
“I keep thinking this is a dream.”  She was crying again, tears slipping free even though she kept her eyes tightly clenched. “That I’ll wake up and none of this will be true.”

             
“It’s not a dream, Tess.”

             
The sound of Dallas’ voice brought her head snapping up. She blinked in disbelief as she saw him move in beside Neilson, calmly offering her a white foam cup of coffee, rain sheeting off the dark slicker he wore. Her mouth opened and closed soundlessly.

She launched herself into his arms, weeping. “You’re alive! I was so afraid
...
”

Behind her she heard Barry cough. “Tess Marsh, may I introduce a colleague, Grey Thomas.”

             
Colleague?

             
Removing her hands from
Dallas
, Tess backed away looking from Barry to
Dallas
.

Wait a moment...

How did Barry know her name? And why was
Dallas
here? Why wasn’t he with Bogen and the others? A prisoner...

She stared at the badge hanging around Barry’s neck identifying him as FBI.
Dallas
wore an identical one. Her pulse pounded loudly in her ears. She shook her head trying to clear the mist of denial.

             
“I can see you two need to talk. Excuse me.”  Barry backed away, blending into the crush of people.

But his words came back to her. He called Dallas...
Grey.
Grey Thomas. Something was terribly wrong here. “
Dallas
? I don’t--”

             
Ignoring the rain, he pulled her through the mud toward the rear of the squad car, trying to find a more private spot. “It’s Grey, sweetheart, and I’m sorry to have duped you, Tess.”

             
She stared at the badge hanging around his neck. “FBI?” she questioned, never taking her eyes off him.
Dallas
was an FBI agent.
Dallas
’ name was Grey. Grey Thomas.

It felt like she’d been slapped. Rage exploded in her head as the implication dawned on her, crystalline clear, leaving her feeling betrayed. Violated.

             
Sweet Jesus. She’d slept with him -- all the while thinking he was a gangster.
All the while thinking she cared for him
?

             
A part of her had nearly died at the thought he’d been injured earlier. And before that, when he’d forced her to leave the house, her heart had broke. She hadn’t wanted freedom then. She’d wanted to stay with him, even when he’d pushed her away.

What was wrong with her
?

They had made love. Again and again. She had begged him to take her. Gave up her will to escape. Believed she would die without his protection.

             
Grey moved closer, watching the confusion, the fury, play across her face. He knew the news was a terrible shock. He desperately needed to talk to her alone, to explain, to reassure. And to make sure she knew which parts had been real and which hadn’t. Christ, he needed to figure that out himself. This was unfamiliar territory.

             
She shoved her hair from her eyes, her voice trembling. “You knew how frightened I was. And you had the power to take all that fear away -- at any time.”

             
He squeezed her shoulders lightly. “I was afraid you’d act differently if you knew the truth. If Bogen and Snake had even suspected you weren’t afraid, you could have been in even more danger.”

             
“So you used me?”

             
He couldn’t deny it. “There were ten other women being held captive that we had to account for. Would you have sacrificed them for your own peace of mind?”

             
“Of course not.”  She stepped away, shrugging free of his touch. There had been other women being held? It would have been comforting to know she wasn’t alone. “If you had given me a choice, I would have played along. Helped you.”

             
“I didn’t need help. I needed to keep you safe.”

His statement appalled her with its sheer male arrogance.

             
“You didn’t have to sleep with me to do that.”

             
“You’re right. I didn’t have to. I wanted to. Just give me a chance to explain, and I think when you hear the whole story you’ll understand.”

             
“Understand?”
she repeated.

Oh, she understood perfectly.

Forgiving was another matter.

             
She turned away, unable to face him as every little nuance of her captivity replayed in her head. He had deliberately misled her. Used her fears against her. Manipulated her trust. He could have spared her a lot of distress, a load of angst when she believed herself to be infatuated with an outlaw. God, how foolish he must think her.

             
Once more his hand closed over her shoulder, turning her back to him.

             
“Tess, please say something, sweetheart.”

             
Sweetheart?
How dare he patronize her now?

Stepping back, she clenched her fist, hating what he’d done, the grief he’d caused. Worst, he’d stolen her heart then trampled it. Just as he’d stolen her innocence. Her outrage swelled, exploded.

“Bastard,” she hissed. Then she slugged him in the face with every bit of strength she possessed, sending him sprawling backward into the mud.

CHAPTER NINE

             
Grey’s jaw smarted.

He levered himself off the ground as Tess backed away, obviously shocked by what she’d done.

“Oh, God, I--”  She whirled, disappearing into the edgy chaos surrounding them.

“Tess, wait.” 

A car barreled past Grey, its tires spinning in the mud, the trampled vegetation offering scarce traction. He shot the driver a look
,
then tore after Tess, almost catching her before he realized his intent.

He slowed. Damn it, he couldn’t just run up and overpower her. Force her to listen.

Or handcuff her to the nearest bed and make love to her until the anger passed and there was only pure, honest sensation.

             
Dallas
would have done that.

Grey couldn’t.

             
His temper sparked, wanting to flare as he struggled to contain his frustration, reluctant to give her space. He couldn’t. Not yet. Not until they’d talked.

Actually, he just wanted her to listen. He wanted to do all the talking. Unfair as hell, he knew, but he wanted it just the same.

He scowled at his own narrow-mindedness. Tess had a perfect right to be mad, she had a right to demand answers. To scream...to cry...to rail against the injustices she’d been forced to endure.

             
Instead she’d sucker-punched him and fled.

             
Of all the outcomes he’d imagined this hadn’t been one.

             
Peeling off his muddy jacket, he stepped around the open door of the patrol car and into the noisy clearing beside the house. The yellow glare of headlights artificially illuminated the night, giving everything a surreal appearance. The rain had picked up again, in earnest, soaking him anew.

             
He noticed several officers huddled near a battered trailer, talking on two-way radios, an impromptu comm
and center. The raid was multi
jurisdictional and included officers from FBI, ATF, the county
sheriff and the s
tate police. Even though everyone would have been briefed before the raid that Grey was an undercover agent, he got more than one second glance, more than one inquisitive stare. So had Tess. Which bothered him.