Redeem My Heart (14 page)

“I’ve sent Kevin and Ethan to quietly keep tabs on Jernigan, but I don’t think we should tip our hand quite yet.” The voice in the background sounded like Taryn, but Crest cut the call short before Fallon could ask to speak with her. “Stay there until further notice. No outside communication.”

Fallon’s previous mental fatigue faded as a jolt of anticipation regarding what she’d failed to do earlier took hold. She needed her laptop and electronic files—everything they had gathered. Both were thankfully in one of the bags that Ryland had taken upstairs. Those were the first items she’d picked up after he’d come into to warn them about the potential attack. She took a step in that direction to find that Ryland was standing at the bottom of the landing.

“I take Crest just informed you that Grahn was eliminated?”

“He’s still alive,” Fallon pointed out cautiously, trying to figure out how Ryland had come by the piece of intelligence when she was positive that she hadn’t repeated what Crest had told her. She held up the phone. “I didn’t realize that you had such good hearing.”

“Don’t profess that you aren’t aware I’m in contact with my own outside support team.” Ryland slowly crossed the distance but stopped short around three feet from where she was. He’d taken off his sweater, leaving him in his white dress shirt with the sleeves casually rolled up. It also happened to be unbuttoned halfway down the front and she had the inclination to fasten them, preventing her from doing something she’d regret. She focused on what he was saying. “I spoke to Grahn the day we arrived in the Hamptons. Someone was apparently keeping tabs on the man and guessed, quite accurately I would say, that I would utilize him as a source.”

Fallon couldn’t have heard him right. There was no way in hell she’d gone to the lengths she had to keep Ryland from E.D.A.’s control only to have him voluntarily reach out to those very same opponents. Grahn might very well still be the one with ties to E.D.A. They were all making an assumption based on one tragic event that could cost the man his life. That didn’t mean he hadn’t been aware of what was going on.

“Why would you do that?” Those were the only words Fallon could get out without losing her grip on her rising anger. She’d put her career on the line to see this through. Ryland hadn’t asked that of her, but the least he could do was be up front with her. It crossed her mind that she was saying this about a person who killed people professionally for a living, but then she comforted herself with the fact that he’d been the byproduct of an E.D.A. experimental operation. “You led them right to us. I told you that we were secure and yet you intentionally made a decision to place people in danger, and subsequently men lost their lives.”

“Men who took orders from the wrong people,” Ryland reminded her with a dismissive shrug of his shoulder. “There’s always a price for information.”

“You said in the car that your dreams shed more light with each night that passes.” Fallon was through allowing Ryland to only show her half his hand. And yes, she’d mentally used the word
allow
. He’d figured that out, judging by the sardonic smirk on his face. “Who else did you remember from those files I gave you?”

“Agents Clark, White, and Scherer,” Ryland announced as if he’d never intentionally kept that vital information from her. Fallon shook her head as she tried to step around him, with every intention to gather her laptop and start the process that defined her as a special agent in the first place. Ryland prevented her from leaving by wrapping a hand around her arm. “You’ll find nothing on them that they didn’t want you to find in the first place. Most of what you think you’ll uncover are either red herrings or traps to red flag your contacts within your own agency.”

“You’ve apparently already contacted people to provide you outside assistance. Should any information come to light, you’ll in all likelihood keep it from me or Crest,” Fallon stated, unsuccessfully pulling her arm away. She stared him down until he relented and slowly released her. “You’ll go off on your own and find yourself back in the harness pulling the same old shit in some godforsaken country, taking a contract out on someone’s life because all of this will have become a distant memory in the horribly twisted story that has become your life. You’ll be forced to forget everything substantial that could make you a threat to their organization, which will most likely include your retirement, anything and everything to do with CSA, and most assuredly anything from the moment I set foot into your condominium four days ago.”

Fallon hadn’t tried to sugarcoat anything for Ryland, but now she spelled it out for him in minute detail. These people who had taken an eighteen-year-old boy and turned him into nothing more than a target-seeking missile would have fail-safes in place—a key word or a simple phrase that would stimulate a preprogrammed response. Ryland would reset as if a button had been pushed, reprogrammed as if no time had passed. He was so vulnerable and yet he couldn’t see the forest for the trees. She wasn’t expecting him to reach out and pull her to him.

“There isn’t a man or woman on earth that could ever make me forget you,” Ryland murmured, the intensity of his words causing Fallon to feel as if she’d suddenly caught fire. She rested her palms against his chest and refused to let him see that his vow affected her deeply. “The truth of the matter is…you’re the only thing keeping me inside this gilded cage.”

Chapter Eleven

R
yland stared into the fire he’d made while Fallon had taken a shower and changed into some fresh clothes. He was currently nursing a glass of the whiskey that Crest kept on hand, doing his best not to grimace at the cheaper brand. It was better than nothing, but not by much. It was rare that he felt uneasy and he attempted to chalk it up to being in his adversary’s sanctuary, but that wasn’t it. Too many things were happening that were out of his control and he needed to regain a measure of direction.

He hadn’t meant to say what he had to Fallon and he quickly dismissed her after that, announcing that he would make them something to eat while she cleaned up. The refrigerator was quite well stocked for this being a weekend’s only getaway, but it made no difference to him. He would only be here for a night or two before taking matters into his own hands…and that meant returning to Washington D.C. It would be best for all of them once he regained the reins.

“Going by what we know and using the mid-nineties as a basis for our timetable, we’re looking for a male figure in his late forties or fifties who seeks influence and power in every manner of his life,” Fallon said from her position on the couch. She was currently sitting on the middle cushion with her legs crossed. Her laptop was open and her damp hair was bunched on top of her head and held in place with only a pencil. She’d basically avoided speaking with him for the last few hours and he was fine with that. It gave him more time to try and recall memories that she swore were there. He wasn’t having any luck, but the profile she was generating was nothing he couldn’t have come up with himself. “It stems from seeking approval from his parents, or maybe even beyond that. His actions to head up such a covert program might stem as a result of his parents’ neglect. We need to dig deeper into the lives of those you mentioned. I’d wager that one of the first contracts given somehow, someway affected this man personally.”

Ryland tightened his fingers on the crystal glass, something on the edge of his mind and yet not quite close enough for him to remember. It was frustrating as hell and something he wasn’t used to. He wasn’t used to any of this. His day-to-day life was that of doing the jobs he personally wanted to take…his choice. Why then did the time between the mid-nineties and prior feel so distorted?

He could no longer deny that E.D.A. existed. He could no longer deny that Dane Moza or Gene Cyril had most likely been pawns in a government program that was currently going to extreme lengths to bring those men back into the fold. The only thing he couldn’t quite admit to was that he was somehow involved, that he’d been so vulnerable at one point that he had allowed someone to make him into someone else. The facts were bare to anyone who looked, but how was he supposed to comprehend something of that magnitude when he couldn’t bring himself to accept the basic truth?

“Ryland?” Fallon’s soft voice stopped his mind from spinning in circles and he took another swig of his drink. He could see in his peripheral vision from where he was standing that she’d moved her laptop to the couch and gracefully unfolded her frame to make her way over to where he was standing. He shook his head in silent warning. She didn’t want to be near him right now. “We’ll figure this out. I know—”

“What do you know, Fallon?” Ryland walked away before Fallon could touch him. This…chemistry between them was about to ignite. They’d been playing with the matches for far too long, but he wasn’t in the right mindset. It was as if everything she’d laid at his feet had cut him so deep that every nerve of the soul he claimed he didn’t possess was exposed. He didn’t
want
a soul. That’s what this boiled down to. “Do you hear what you’re saying? Word for word? The true meaning? You want me to accept that another person forced me to be someone I am not, took away my emotions, made me nothing more than a puppet with strings to be pulled, while programming me to be a killer that has no remorse but to perform.”

“Yes,” Fallon said tenderly, almost like she regretted having to hurt him…but she didn’t. She wanted this. It would justify her decision to be attracted to someone she apparently felt was evil. Was he? Probably. He was surprised the glass in his hand didn’t break when he set it down on the side table that held photographs of Crest and his family. There were pictures of his mother and father, friends, the team, Jessie. He stared at the history of the one person who was his polar opposite and pain shot through his temple at the implication that his own past had been taken from him. “Once you start accepting that, you’ll open up your mind to the boy you once were. You’ll regain—”

“Do you really think I want to reclaim a boy’s life who couldn’t even make a drug deal go right? A boy who didn’t have the smarts to do business with drug smugglers without getting caught?” Ryland turned to find that Fallon had taken a few steps closer, but her blue eyes were cautious. She wasn’t so much frightened of him as she appeared to be trying to soothe a hurt animal and was wary she might get scratched in the process. “You can’t make me into something I’m not to placate your own dilemmas for wanting to fuck someone who people consider a psychopath. Do you believe I care what people think?”

Fallon didn’t recoil the way Ryland thought she would. She took another step closer. It was more than apparent he was losing his ability to intimidate her, which only added to this ball of rage that was going unchecked inside of him. He needed to be alone, the way he was used to and the way it was supposed to be.

“Yes, I’m attracted to you.” Fallon stepped in front of him before he had a chance to head for the front door. The cold air would have been more welcome than the light scent of her Chanel perfume that somehow still lingered on her body. He always thought he’d go out in a blaze of glory, but it was looking as if this blonde filled with determination would be his downfall. “Do you want the truth? Fine. I’ll go first and make myself vulnerable, which is something I’ve learned not to do. But for you…why not? I will, so listen closely. I don’t look at what is on the surface the way everyone else does. I look at what’s beneath…at who
you
really are under the layers that someone else has painted. I see a young man who made the best decision he could for his future by joining the service, a brother who vowed to do anything to save his sister from the hands of a pedophile, a son who wanted to make his mother proud, and a boy who loved the housekeeper as if she were a relative instead of an employee. I can see the man he became underneath the façade that’s been smeared by the careless hands of others. Travis is here with us, Ryland. You just have to help me find him.”

Ryland always, always maintained the willpower to do what he wanted…when he wanted. He wanted to walk away from this stunningly beautiful women standing in front of him. He
needed
to walk away in order to save himself, but he couldn’t seem to make himself take that first step. One thought floated through his mind—maybe he didn’t want to walk away. Maybe, just maybe, he wanted her to be right about everything.