Rogue Alliance (31 page)

             
He sauntered around the other side of the bar
and grabbed her scarf off the
back of the bar stool. It was light weight, perfect for the cool fall evening. He fingered
it
gently, then pulled it taught, showing its
deceiving durability.

             
Fear, stark and cold
,
ran through her body
. It was a chill like no other.
Swallowing hard, she kept her chin up and looked him in the eye defiantly. Circling around her just as he
had
earlier, he lovingly wrapped the soft scarf around her neck.
Across the room, behind the bar
,
was a mirror. Sitting down, she couldn’t see her own reflection but she could see his. She watched him stalk her as if watching someone else or watching a movie.

             
Standing directly behind her
,
he trailed a finger down the side of her face and down her neck. When he found the delicate curve just behind her ear he leaned down and kissed it. She inhaled sharply but let it out slowly. The next breath was stolen
as Victor suddenly and viciously tightened the scarf. The pain was shocking as the scarf bit into her flesh and pressed at her airway. The instinct to pull in oxygen was more intense than anything she’d ever experienced. Fear turned to
a visceral need to survive and she struggled and strained against her restraints. She heard a sick chortling sound and realized it had come from her own lips.
Stars and colors
began to twinkle before her eyes. Her head expanded and throbbed.

             
T
he scarf loosen
ed and she took in a violent,
raspy breath of sweet air.
She wish
ed she had her gun, and s
he
knew she
needed to get to a phone and c
all Hal, or Shawn, somebody. The alternative was to
die at the hands of this psychopath.

             
“
Sucks, doesn’t it,” Victor said, “the feeling of complete vulnerability? Being at the mercy of someone else,
with
no control over the situation? Much like the feeling of betrayal, how it
seeps into your soul illustrating how you should never for a moment, for a second, trust anyone, ever.”

             
Victor’s reflection was terrifying. His voice was seething with anger
and his face was beet red. The emotions triggered seemed to be remnants of something from the past, something
deeper than any violation
she’d ever committed. She was just the target.

Again he grabbed both ends of her scarf. This time he pulled slowly, increasing the pressure over small increments. She took in one quick breath through her nose
before her airway was fully cut-off
and prayed it would be enough.

             
“Victor.”

             
Shyla heard a deep voice call out and then a flash of color whizz across the reflection in the mirror. Suddenly the scarf loosened and Victor was knocked to the ground. Dizzy and disoriented
,
she blinked and shook her head. Maybe she had passed out and
was dreaming. Perhaps
she was hallucinating.

             
The scuffle behind her chair was
all
grunts
and heavy breathing. She turned her head and spotted Brennan on top of Victor holding him to the ground with his forearm pressed to his throat. Victor was flailing about but looked frail compared to Brennan’s sudden display of strength.

             
“Get off me, Brennan,” Victor said through clenched teeth.

             
“No. Not until you calm down. You could have killed her.”

             
“That was the general idea,
”
Victor said, writhing
uselessly underneath Brenn
an’s weight, “n
ow get the hell off of me.”

             
“I’ll let up, but you’re not going near her. Do you understand?”

             
“Fine,”
Victor panted, his brows drawn tight, weighing his decision.

             
Shyla watched in amazement as Brennan stood up and lifted Victor to his feet. Victor lunged forward but Brennan caught him by the front of the shirt and shoved him hard into the bar.

             
“God damn it!” Victor shouted.

             
“I’m not going to let you kill her, Victor. She’s a cop. She’s got cop friends in L.A. and here in town. You think for a second that if you kill her you’re going to get away with it? You have deep pockets and a lot of friends on the inside, but
none of that will help you if you kill a cop. They’ll throw you in prison and throw away the key. I’m doing you a favor here. Killing her won’t solve anything. Killing her will be the
beginning of the
end.”

             
Victor’s chest heaved as he stared at Shyla. She saw in his eyes that Brennan’s words were sinking in through the haze of his rage. Common sense was slowly making itself known. His body relaxed slightly. Brennan loosened his hold but didn’t let go.

Victor’s gaze
wandered to Brennan then back to Shyla.

             
“You’re right,” he said,
“s
hit. You’re goddamn right. What was I thinking?”

             
He looked down at the scarf he still held in his grip. Repulsion r
eflected on his face as h
e tossed the garment to the floor.

             
“Get her out of my sight. Get her out of my town. I never want to lay eyes on her again.”

             
He turned on his heel and stomped out of the room.

             
Shyla’
s thoughts
and emotions were still trying to catch up with the last few minutes.
Her mind felt separate from her body. Shock. She’d seen it many times before in her profession. It was a small gra
ce
.

             
She watched Brennan move with deft swiftness. He wasn’t
wasting a moment. Within seconds
,
her wrists and ankles were untied and he was carrying her out the front door. He threw her into the passenger side
of Victor’s Acura and sped out of the drive before Victor could change his mind.

             
A mile down the road
,
the shock began to wear off and Shyla’s whole body
started
to shake. There were no tears, no outbursts, just an uncontrollable and violent tremor which took over her body. Brennan pulled the car to the side of the road. Without saying a word he reached across and pulled her into his lap.

             
It only felt natural to wrap her arm
s around his neck
. She burrowed her face into
chest and held on tight.

             
“I’m so cold.”

             
His arms tightened around her.

             
“I know,” he said,
“s
sh, ssh, I know. It will pass.”

             
She felt safe.
Finally.

             
When the tremors subsided and the warmth from the heater finally thawed out
the ice within her, she continued to hold tight to Brennan. As her fear subsided, she tilted her head to look up into his eyes. His mouth was there waiting, soft and supple. Cautiously, she brushed her mouth over his. His body tensed but he didn’t pull away.
H
e kissed her back, his hand pressing firmly against the small of her back. It was slow and sensual. She realized she’d
been
waiting for her entire life for that kiss.

             
Shaken, she pulled away. His eyes were clouded with desire and something else she couldn’t quite identify.
It was all too much. Everything;
the entire night, hell, her whole life.

             
She felt a little embarrassed
and slipped off his lap and into the passenger seat
.
             
“Thank you, Brennan.”

             
“Don’t thank me
, it
’
s my fault he hurt you. I’m the one who ratted you out.”

             
Shyla finally met his eyes.

             
“No,” she said, “i
t’s my fa
ult. All of it. He would have fou
nd out sooner or later. I’ve been careless with this whole case. But that’s over now and I have to do what’s right.

I’m going to have to report this. He’s going to go to jail for assaulting a police officer.”

             
Brennan nodded.

             
“It doesn’t matter does it?
” She asked feeling inept and defeated. She carefully ran a finger
over her sore throat and winced,
“
h
e might actually serve some time, but not much. He really is untouchable, isn’t he?”

             
Brennan’s
silence said it all.

             
“And you, what about you? How can you st
ay tied to this guy? He’s crazy. Y
ou saw that tonight with your own eyes. He’s a criminal, he’s a monster.”

             
“So am I.”

             
“No
,
you
’
r
e
not,
” Shyla said,
shaking her head,”
I don’t
believe that for a second. I know you’ve done things that you’re not proud of, but I don’t think you would have done any of that had you felt like you had any other choice. You’ve made choices based on the need to survive. You’ve been alone and de-humanized. Victor makes his choices based on evil and greed. Don’t you see the difference?”

             
“The why doesn’t really matter;
the actions speak for themselves. There are no excuses. Like it or not, Victor
and I are the same.”

             
“No, Brennan, I don’t buy it. You are who you choose to be. This friendship, this misguided alliance that you think you have with Victor, its one-side. One day you’re gonna figure that out for yourself.”

             
His jaw clenched but he kept silent.

             
Shyla
sighed
, no longer willing or able to take the conversation any further. It was too exhausting
.

             
“Take me home, Brennan,” she said,
“
I’m tired.”

THIRTY
-TWO

             
Shawn was sitting in his Mustang in a no-parking
zone
by her apartment
building
.

             
“Shit,” Shyla muttered and put a hand to her t
hroat. It was now on fire and
hurt to swallow or speak.

             
Brennan looked worried.

             
“What?
” he asked, “a
re you okay?”

“No, I’m not fucking okay,”
Shyla said, shaking her head with a grimace, “y
ou
’d
better drop me off and get scootin’. That’s one of my partners.”

             
Brennan clenched his jaw.

             
“I’m not leaving until I know you’re in your place and you are doing okay. I’m still not convinced we don’t need to get you to the hospital.”

             
“I don’t need to go to the damn hospital. I need a goddamn drink, is what I need.”

             
Brennan parked the car
under the street light.

             
“I’
ll get the door,
”
he said, b
ut Shyla was already scooting out of the passenger door.

             
Shawn was half way across the parking lot
,
heading straight toward
s
them with a casual look. She imagined that he was going to play it cool since she was with Brennan. As far as he knew, their cover was still in tact. He could just be some random neighbor.