Chapter Two
* * *
THE GYM WAS empty when Ty walked in. He could never enter these walls without seeing Rayna, smiling, laughing, teasing him as they sparred or stood around afterward shooting the breeze with the other guys. She was no longer here, but he still saw her everywhere he turned. He had to get the hell out of here. His bags were packed. Later today, he’d be gone.
He shoved the ghostly images aside and proceeded to the weight rack, selecting a pair of dumbbells, and following the edge of the mat to the closest bench.
As much as he hated leaving, it was the right decision. Apparently there was no other way to get the woman out of his head.
Ty straddled the bench and let the weights hang down on both sides. Right here was where he’d met her a little over a year ago. Sick with grief over her brother’s death and fixated on revenge, Rayna had set out to prove she was a real badass. He’d seen through her bluster and volunteered to teach her a few things. Turned out she was a damn quick study. More than a few times, he’d had to scramble to keep from getting his ass kicked.
Slowly, deliberately, he curled his right arm, bringing the forty-pound weight toward his chin until it almost touched. He reversed the motion, pushing outward to a forty-five-degree angle, then repeated the whole process with the left arm before he started over again with the right.
Each new conquest had bolstered Rayna’s confidence and fueled her determination. She’d grown stronger and more capable every day, but she never lost sight of her purpose—justice for Charlie.
He’d been both brother and father to Rayna since their parents died in a car accident when Rayna was thirteen. He’d made sure she had people to stay with so she could finish high school. When she’d earned a scholarship to UCLA, he hocked everything he owned so she could go. Through it all, he’d kept her separate from his life as a mercenary, but after his death, it was as though she couldn’t get close enough to everything that had made him who he was… his job, his friends, the place he called home. Charlie was a sniper. Rayna had pushed herself until she became one of the best snipers Ty had ever seen. She’d shown no fear on any of the missions they’d been on together, performing her duties as though she were born to the life. At least that was what Ty had thought, until the day she told him she was leaving.
Ty hadn’t set out to fall in love with her. Having lost everything once already, the last thing he was looking for was more baggage. Doing his job, working out, and keeping to himself—that was the plan, but Rayna’s grief and rage chipped away at his defenses, making him raw with emotion and ripe for the fall. The day he admitted to himself she’d become the center of his world was the day he’d started to come alive again.
Comforting her in the tragic loss she’d suffered had given him purpose. Hiding from his past here in Joe’s compound had kept him among the living, but his dreams had died a quick death. Rayna had made him believe in himself again. There’d been things he wanted before he came here: the home with the picket fence, a woman who loved him, a dog, maybe even kids someday. All things he’d sacrificed on the same altar as his career. Suddenly, all he could think about was a future with Rayna.
But it wasn’t meant to be. She’d come to her senses and realized she didn’t want the kind of life Ty could offer. She had another plan in mind, and it didn’t include him. What hurt the most was knowing she was absolutely right. Getting away from him was the smartest thing she could do. Now it was his turn to move on.
“Hey, Ty. Joe wants to see you—ASAP.”
Ty paused in the middle of his arm curl, the weight not quite touching his chest, and glanced up. Walker headed toward him, tension emanating from him like light from a hundred-watt bulb. Ty uncurled the arm holding the dumbbell, then pulled it toward his chest again. His gaze flickered over his friend and noted the fisted hands and the muscle that contracted in his firmly set jaw.
Walker’s shoulder-length black hair was pulled back and tied, and a close-cropped beard covered his serious face. He was arguably the most dangerous man on Joe’s payroll, but he looked especially grim today.
“It’s important, Ty.”
It must be important. Walker didn’t usually play errand boy. That was generally part of Ty’s job, but not anymore. “Did you forget? I’ll be out of here in an hour. Whatever Joe needs, someone else will have to get it for him.” He straightened, placed the weight back on the rack by the wall, and brushed past Walker. Ty had time for one more run along the lake before he grabbed his duffel and turned his back on the only home he’d known in over six years.
“Rayna’s in trouble.” Walker’s words dropped like slabs of granite.
Ty stopped and balled his hands into fists as he swung around to face him. “What kind of trouble?”
“All I know is Joe is pretty steamed, and he said to tell you he might need a favor someday.” Walker stopped a few feet away. “That mean anything to you?”
It meant something, all right. It meant his past had finally caught up with him. Giving up his previous life and keeping his head down all these years hadn’t been enough. He knew it wouldn’t be, and Joe had known it too. Six years ago, when Ty asked Joe for a job and a place to live out of the mainstream, Joe gave him a home and a family as well. Ty’s vague and cryptic warnings about the scum that might someday come looking for him didn’t faze Joe. He simply replied he might need a favor someday himself.
Ty should have played it smart. Kept to himself. Instead, he got involved with Rayna and now she was in danger—and not just her. Somewhere, another woman and her seven-year-old daughter were about to have their lives turned upside down again.
Ty pivoted and strode out of the gym, across the compound, and into the main house. He expected Joe to be furious. A veteran with Special Forces training, as well as an ex-Secret Service agent, he’d built and now operated this facility on the shore of Flathead Lake outside Kalispell, Montana. His special team, of which Ty had been a part until today, performed highly classified and dangerous jobs for governmental powers-that-be. The rest of the time, he trained specialized military teams and law enforcement personnel. The point was, no one came here unless Joe invited them.
Bringing this down on their heads—on Rayna’s head—after everything Joe had done for him, was beyond excuse. The shame cut deeply, and the overwhelming need to make it right threatened to crush the breath from him.
“I’ll get her out of this.” Ty braced himself as Joe, six foot four and hard-as-nails, walked toward him.
There was no anger or accusation in Joe’s brown eyes. “We’ll get her out. We’re still a team—that is, if you’re sticking around for this one.”
Ty had a lot of respect for Joe, but when it came to Rayna, his boss simply didn’t get it. Ty’s decision to leave hadn’t set well with Joe. Rayna was like a sister to him, and his advice to Ty had been to give her more time—to wait her out until she got her head on straight and came home. Joe couldn’t possibly know how empty Ty’s life had been since she left and how every square inch of ground within the compound reminded him of her. He’d spent the first three weeks afraid she wouldn’t come home. After that, he’d been scared to death she would come home, and he’d have to see her and somehow find the strength to stay away from her.
“Good. Then let’s get started.” Joe returned to his desk and pressed a button on his keyboard, obviously taking Ty’s silence as agreement. “This was left at the gate this morning.”
Walker entered the study and closed the door. The three of them grouped around the computer monitor. A grainy video began to play.
Pain stabbed through Ty. Rayna’s arms and legs were bound to a wooden chair; her gaze continually darted over her shoulder but always returned to the small table beside her. He couldn’t see what was on the table, but whatever it was commanded her attention. A cut marred her usually perfect, pouty lips, and her tongue ran over them regularly. She twisted her wrists, testing her bindings every few seconds.
She’d cut her hair. It was much shorter than when he last saw her six weeks ago. New clothes. A new look. Dressed for a night out on the town. She’d fixed herself up to start a new life. He’d done just the opposite. His reddish hair, more blond now from the sun, had grown long and covered his ears, and a two-day stubble peppered his face. He wasn’t interested in a new life without her.
The image of her held captive in a darkened room, obviously afraid, ripped a hole in his heart and started him shaking with rage. This was his fault. If he’d left a long time ago, she’d still be safe.
Her dress was torn at the shoulder. One sleeve slid partway down her upper arm and her neckline gaped in front, displaying her lacy black bra. Ty’s anger ratcheted up a notch. Her legs were bare, as were her feet. She’d no doubt started the evening in heels, and he’d seen what she could do with a pair of stilettos. Grim satisfaction battled the despair that threatened to turn his heart to stone. His girl didn’t go down without a fight.
His girl? Where the hell did that come from?
On the screen, she jumped, and her breathing quickened. Footsteps sounded, and he pulled himself up straight as a man walked in front of her and stared directly into the camera for a second before he turned his attention to Rayna.
“See that? She doesn’t know she’s being filmed, but that bastard wants us to know exactly who he is.” Joe met Ty’s gaze questioningly.
Ty nodded in silent confirmation. Andre Komarov. Curly black hair, dark brown eyes, tall, tanned, a face the ladies seemed to appreciate. Ty should have killed the Russian Mafia general when he had the chance, instead of being a good cop. That had gained him absolutely nothing.
Andre stood in front of the small table, obviously being careful not to block the camera’s view of Rayna. He picked something up and held it in front of her. “Have you made your decision?” He turned just enough so the camera caught what he held.
Son of a bitch. Syringes. The lowlife was going to dope her up, or worse—give her an overdose. Helpless to look away, Ty gripped the desk to steady himself.
Rayna braced her elbows on the arms of the chair, and her blue eyes blazed with defiance. It took her a couple of tries to get any words out, but when she did, her voice was strong. “I don’t know what you think Ty can find for you, but I know him pretty well. If you have to coerce him to do what you want, it must be something he’s not willing to find. I won’t be a part of it, so do your worst. Give me the megadose and get it over with.”
“Aw, shit.” Ty pushed off the desk, shoving it back six inches.
“Easy.” Joe placed a hand on his shoulder.
Ty should have realized Joe had already seen the video. If something had happened to Rayna, he wouldn’t let Ty stand here and watch her die. He ran a hand across the nape of his neck as he breathed out slowly. It didn’t change the fact, however, she was willing to die for him… for something she knew nothing about.
Her words didn’t surprise him. She was always too damn tough and stubborn for her own good. It was her sense of right and wrong that always seemed to get her in trouble. There were no gray areas in her world. That was why he never told her what had brought him to Joe’s compound.
Andre took a deep breath and turned, now clearly playing to the camera. “Very noble. I expected nothing less. Fortunately for you, your death at this time would be wasted.” He dropped one of the syringes, took the cover off the other, and jabbed it into Rayna’s arm.
A small cry escaped her, but she recovered quickly. “You snake.”
Andre laughed and pointed. “Smile for the camera, my dear. Your friends are watching us right now. Not only did you ask your Ty Whitlock to come and save you, but you gave an outstanding performance. I doubt if anyone could keep him away now.”
Rayna stared into the camera as understanding slowly dawned in her glazed eyes. “No, Ty. Don’t… not worth it.” Her head dropped toward her chest and her shoulders slumped.
“Oh, he will come, my dear, because next time we do this, you will die.” Andre looked into the camera again. “Twenty-four hours. That is how long you have to get here, Ty. I sent a file with instructions. Follow them to the letter, and Rayna will be fine.”
The video stopped, leaving Andre’s leering face frozen on the screen.
Ty let his breath out and fought to keep the contents of his stomach down. He squeezed his fists until they hurt and then looked for something to hit. He had brought this on her. If he hadn’t been pushing her to make a commitment, she wouldn’t have thought it necessary to go so far away to finish school. She’d still be here, safe, if he’d left well enough alone.
Deep down, he knew that wasn’t true. The day she’d told him she was leaving, he’d walked away, determined to let her go without a fight as she’d requested. After ten rounds with a punching bag and a cold shower he’d had to try one more time to get the truth from her.
When he’d knocked on her door, he’d thought for a moment that she’d slam it in his face. Obviously, she’d been crying, her suitcases open on the bed behind her.
“May I come in?” The distant look in her eyes had broken his heart.
She reluctantly swung the door open and faced him in silence.
“I need to know why you going back to school has to be the end of our relationship, even if all we can be is friends.” Ty blocked her retreat when she would have turned away.
Fear invaded her eyes. “You’re just making this harder.”
“Yeah, dammit. That’s what I’m trying to do. You’re not leaving because Charlie made sacrifices so you can go to school. Are you? Or because you don’t like the life you’ve made here. You’re leaving because of me. Aren’t you? Be friend enough to tell me the truth, Rayna.”
“Yes! Are you happy? I don’t want you. I don’t love you. And I can’t stay here where you are anymore.” Her voice cracked, but she managed to hold it together.
There’d been such misery in her eyes, it had taken every ounce of restraint he had not to pull her into his arms. He’d known she was lying. What he hadn’t figured out until much later was why. In the end, it hadn’t mattered.
She was so damn stubborn and so determined to take care of herself. Every time he did something nice for her, she spooked and backed off as though she thought he was trying to charm her into his bed. If he’d wanted to convince her to sleep with him, he damn sure could have. Truth was, he understood why she kept him at arm’s length. She’d grieved long and hard for Charlie. Ty had no problem giving her the time she needed, even though she drove him to distraction—but it made him crazy that she didn’t trust him. He wasn’t a liar.
He scowled. Except for that one lie six years ago. The one that not even Joe knew about. The lie that was responsible for Andre Komarov grabbing Rayna and holding her hostage.
Ty was to blame for all of this. He had to make it right. “I’ll fix this.” He faced Joe. “Where are the instructions?”
Joe held up a sheet of paper, then turned away and sat at his desk.
“What does this goon want from you?” Walker folded his arms across his chest and leaned on the desk beside Joe. His gray eyes studied Ty expectantly.
“We don’t have time for this.” Ty spread his arms in exasperation.
Walker had been with Joe longer than Ty, but the two of them had never been what he’d call friends until recently. Walker had always been a little too crazy and reckless for Ty’s comfort level. He often wondered if the man had a death wish.
Everything had changed five months ago when he brought a woman home with him. Darcy Maddox—the cutest, most enthusiastic little redhead Ty had ever seen. It was obvious the two of them were nuts for each other and, suddenly, Walker was a changed man. Oh, he still walked the edge now and then—it came with the job—but making Darcy happy was his first priority.
“First rule of any mission—don’t go off half-cocked.” Joe leaned back in his chair and laced his fingers behind his head.
“We can’t help if we don’t know what’s going on.” Walker’s gaze bored into him.
Ty took a deep breath. He didn’t need their help. This was his mess, and he didn’t want anyone else in danger because of him. There were things he couldn’t tell them—things he’d promised never to tell anyone.
On the other hand, Rayna’s life depended on him. If something happened to her because he didn’t let Joe and Walker in on the gig, he wouldn’t be able to live with himself. Clearly, they weren’t letting him off the hook anyway. They showed no signs of backing down.
He took another deep breath and made his decision. “Six years ago I was a cop in Portland, Oregon. I worked a joint task force with the FBI and DEA, charged with weeding out the Russian Mob.” He nodded toward the computer screen. “Andre Komarov took over a section of Southwest Portland and tried to annihilate his competition in one of the bloodiest drug wars we’d ever seen. Innocent people were getting hurt. We had to stop him, so I went undercover.”
Walker whistled low. “Undercover with the Russian Mob? Were you suicidal in those days?”
“My first job was to snatch a year-old baby girl from her mother. My partner and I had everything set up so the kidnapping attempt would fail through no fault of mine and the Mob boys would be none the wiser. I even got thrown in jail overnight to protect my cover.”
“Later that night, the woman whose baby we’d saved, Bree Knight, walked into my cell. Turned out she was an FBI agent. I’d never met her before, but two years prior to the start of my investigation she’d been undercover in Andre’s organization.” Ty paced nervously.
“She’d busted Andre on numerous charges, but there were problems with evidence and only a minor drug-related charge stuck. He got less than a year. While he was in prison, he struck back. Put out a contract on her husband and had him killed, although they could never prove it.”
“As soon as he got out, he went back to Portland and started a small drug war, and that’s when I entered the picture. Bree had always known it was a possibility Andre would target her or her child, but he’d never been so bold before.”
“The longer we talked that night, the more convinced I became that she would be an invaluable asset in my operation. When I asked her to help, she jumped at the chance.” Ty glossed over the end of the story as he always did when regret rose up to choke him. No one needed to know how attached he’d grown to baby Madison and Bree—or how she’d blindsided him.
“Andre got ten years for criminal solicitation in the death of her husband. She took her daughter and went into hiding, afraid he’d reach out from prison again and exact his revenge. He made parole three months ago. So, if I had to guess, I’d say he’s looking for Brianna Knight.”
“How did you know he was out?”
Ty turned and met Joe’s gaze. “My old partner, Nate Sanders, thought I’d want to know. It was always a possibility the Russian bastard might target me, but I didn’t think anyone else would be in danger. I’d have taken off a long time ago, Joe.”
Goddammit! He should have known. He’d been out of the game too long. Gotten complacent. Leaving here was long overdue. He had to get out of here now… before Joe realized there was a big hole in his story and demanded to know why he left the PPB.
“The instructions?” He walked toward Joe, his hand out.
Joe gave the piece of paper to Walker, then picked up two more from his desk and passed one to Ty. “First thing you need to do is stop handing out blame. No one is responsible for this except Andre Komarov.”
“Question is… what are we going to do about it?” Walker pulled a chair around the desk and motioned Ty into it.
Ty bit back his impatience and dropped into the chair. He hadn’t missed the we in Walker’s question. Surprisingly, he wasn’t as pissed by their insistence to be a part of this as he might have been. Perhaps being a member of a team for the last few years had changed his maverick outlook on life. Maybe… but there were reasons why he had to handle this alone.
“Take public transportation to LA,” Joe read off the first of four instructions. “Check into the Best Western on Sepulveda under the name Chris Knight and wait to be contacted.”
“Chris Knight?” Walker glanced over the top of the sheet of paper in his hand.
“Bree’s deceased husband.” Ty ground out the words, swamped by the memory of her bitterness. He should have seen it coming.
“Come alone. Come unarmed.” Joe ticked off the final two items and tossed the paper on his desk.
Ty flipped the page over. That was it? Those were the only instructions? When Ty stood, two sets of eyes bored into him. He’d told them as much as he could, but he couldn’t shake the guilt for what he’d kept to himself.
“We have to find her.” Joe stretched his legs out in front of him.
Ty nodded. “I’ll leave right away. Hell, I’m already packed. I’ll catch the red-eye.” He turned to go.
“I mean, we have to find Brianna Knight—in case nothing else works.”
The suggestion hung motionless in the air for a few seconds. Ty swung around and his gaze sought Joe’s. “That won’t be easy. Bree went off the grid when Andre went to prison.”
“We may have to go through the back door to locate her, but I know some people who might be able to help.”
“It’s not likely this guy is looking for a friendly reunion . She could be in danger if we unearth her for him.” Walker voiced the concern that troubled Ty, then eyed him as though trying to gauge whose side he was on.
Ty hadn’t thought it through to the point where he might be forced to choose between Bree and Rayna. He didn’t doubt for a moment that both Bree and Madison would be in mortal danger if Andre got his hands on them. Dread swirled in his stomach as memories of the baby, now seven or eight years old, tugged at his heart. Bree could handle herself and would probably jump at the chance to get inside Andre’s defenses again—but Ty couldn’t turn the child over. Not even to save Rayna’s life. He’d have to think of another way.
An image of Rayna tied to that chair filled his mind, and rage returned to pound in his blood. “Hopefully, it won’t come to that, but find Bree anyway. She may be able to help. I’m going after Rayna.”
“I’ll tag along with you.” Walker straightened and stepped toward him.
“He said to come alone.” Ty stopped and put his hand out to block Walker.
“He said to come unarmed, too, but I can’t see that happening either.”
“Let him go, Walker. It’s his call.” Joe stood as Walker whirled to face him.
“You can’t be serious! Let him go up against the Russian Mob alone? That’s crazy.”
“Ty knows what he’s doing. Once he meets with this Andre Komarov and finds out exactly what the man expects, we’ll regroup.”
Ty escaped out the door, knowing their argument wasn’t over. Walker was like a dog with a tug toy when he got something stuck crossways.
Was Joe right? Did Ty know what he was doing? No way in hell would he allow Rayna to become a casualty of his previous life. Beyond that, it was anybody’s guess.
If You Only Knew
Dixie Lee Brown's books
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