Chapter 29

Chapter

Twenty-Nine

PATCH

S leep was a battle. The drive to Leesburg would take a couple of days, particularly if we didn't want to attract attention. Remy stayed on the targets for a few more hours, tagged them before they separated, then met us on the road.

I'd avoided any kind of sleep until we rendezvoused a couple of hours east of Dallas on I-30. It was after three in the morning. The roads were quiet, the rest stops were still. It took no time to find a spot and let Remy pull the SUV on board.

He'd left the vehicle and come straight to me. The grip of his hands on my elbows steadied me as much as it pulled me to him. I didn't quite collapse into his embrace as I had with Locke.

McQuade said something and clapped Remy on the shoulder before he'd pressed a kiss to my head. Then he was gone. A few minutes later, the truck gave a little jerk as we began to move again.

Remy rocked with the motion easily, keeping both of us on our feet. "You need to see sleep, luv." The words seemed to vibrate in his chest and I soaked up the sound of him and the comfort he offered.

"I don't know if I can." Although the swelling had gone down some, my eyes still hurt—a lot. They were red-rimmed and I wasn't even sure eyedrops would help at this point.

"I'm not McQuade," Remy said. "But I'll stay with you while you sleep."

I blew out a breath.

"Trust me?"

The request cut the legs out from under any objection. "I promise, this isn't about trust. I do trust you." I trusted all of them.

"Then let's see if we can get you some sleep. It'll make me feel better too."

Frowning, I leaned back to search his face. "Did something else happen?"

"Yes, luv. You were caught alone, and had to defend yourself, and I was too damn far away to take the shots for you." The sobriety of that statement and the self-recrimination in his eyes had me reaching to hug him again.

"I don't know if I would have gotten through it if you guys hadn't been on the phone."

"Let's not ever find out, shall we?"

I didn't want to find out. Instead, I let him coax me over to the bed. Shoes off, I slid out of the new sweatshirt, but that still left me in leggings and a tank top. Once I was under the covers, Remy set up a gun on the wall, in a holster he could velcro into place. It put a gun in reach for him.

"Too much?"

After a moment, I shook my head. "Not after today."

A flash of a smile softened his face. I pushed back the blankets when he would have laid on top. One long studying look later, he slid into the bed next to me and wrapped an arm around me—after he rolled me onto my side so I was snug with my back to his chest.

He held up his cell phone and pressed a button. A moment later, McQuade answered. "All good back there?"

"Yep. Getting her to sleep for a while. Try not to throw us around."

"You have faith in my driving," McQuade said in a dry tone and I couldn't help the laugh that escaped.

"Good thing that I'm driving," Locke said, his voice a bit farther away. "Get some sleep. We'll wake you in a few hours for breakfast."

Few hours. I smothered a yawn. Technically, breakfast was a couple of hours away…

"Don't call us," Remy said, almost idly as he began to stroke my hair. "We'll call you." There was just a hint of humor in his voice. "Maybe."

He hung up before they could respond. The slow massage of his fingers over my scalp eased some of the tension knotting my spine. The lance drilling into my skull was still there.

"Go to sleep, goddess," he whispered. "Dream of me." Bit by bit, he smoothed it away. Like water rushing over rock, the slow stroke of his hand through my hair washed the tension out of me.

It was…

"Talk to me," I said, after hitting the button to answer the call.

"Gorgeous," Boxer said by way of greeting.

"I told you no," was my answer. It was almost four in the morning and I was tired . It had been a long night, I'd juggled both Remington and Locke's operations.

Thankfully, Locke's was more about transport and teasing. Remington's had taken some juggling. The fact they were in completely different parts of the world wasn't lost on me, but I'd made it work and they were both on their way.

"You know," he said, his tone playful. "You always start out with ‘no,' before you even hear the question."

I wasn't in the mood for this. "Because the majority of the time, what you want is for me to take on something you agreed to and I'm already busy. You don't want to keep being buried in work, stop accepting jobs. Now, I'm going?—"

"Wait," Boxer said before I could cut off the call. "I hear you. I absolutely do. You gave me great advice before. I listened."

"My advice was to trust your gut and if it felt hinky, say ‘no,' and then walk away." I reached for my coffee cup. The dregs of the last cup I'd made were in there and I downed the cold remnants in one swallow.

Disgusting, but I'd take whatever jolt it had left. My eyes were so tacky, it was like they had glue as well as sandpaper in them.

"Exactly." Boxer snapped his fingers. Most of the time, I didn't mind Boxer. But the past few months, his excuses for contact had grown more and more outlandish. To be fair, I should probably take my own advice. If it felt off, say no and cut the contact. "It was excellent advice."

"So why am I talking to you?" It better be good.

"Maybe I just wanted to say thank you," he suggested.

"Want to try that again?" I eyed my empty coffee cup and rose. My chair squeaked and my back cracked. Or maybe that was my hips. Fuck, even my ass was numb. I'd been still for too long.

"You know, you have balls that clank." He let out a humorless laugh.

"Thank you," I said.

"I didn't mean it as a compliment."

"Too bad," I retorted. "I'm tired, Boxer. You have three seconds to tell me what you want or I'm cutting the line."

"Goddamn."

"Three," I said, hitting two keys to shut the system down and then turning to open the door. "Two."

"You were right, about trusting the gut. If they were hinky, I should have said no. I didn't say no."

I stopped, but the locks were already disengaging.

"And I'm sorry, I really should have listened to you."

I frowned. Ice slid up my spine. "What did you do?"

"I had no choice. It was do the job or die. So… I did the job."

The door shoved inwards abruptly and there were men swarming toward me.

"I gave them you…" I didn't hear the rest of what he was saying as a fist caught me right in the stomach. I jerked away, yanking the headset cord from the phone and sending the device tumbling.

Another man grabbed me from behind and a bag came over my head. I didn't stop fighting. I just needed another foot. I jabbed my elbow back into the man's crotch and lurched forward.

The killswitch was on the wall. I hit it. And the drives in my main machine fried. It wouldn't kill the backups but they would have to find those.

Then my head was knocked against the wall and the world went gray and fuzzy. The next time I woke up, I was in the back of a truck, bound, gagged, and a bag over my head.

I groaned.

A mistake, because something icy cold touched me and voltage cascaded through my body.

The next time I woke, it was dark but I wasn't alone. Hands grabbed at me. Pinching. Pushing. Pain.

Then I was out again.

I woke up in the room with Shaggy and Mr. Cold. Mr. Cold did nothing when Shaggy started putting his cigarettes out on me. To be fair, I didn't either.

Pain and I had become fast acquaintances.

The world swayed in and out of focus. I couldn't move and my tongue felt too large for my mouth. But I couldn't even manage to get any spit to form.

"We need her alive for answers," a cool voice said. Not Mr. Cold. This voice wasn't devoid of all emotion. If anything, they sounded annoyed . "Explain to me how your enhanced interrogation is getting us what we need."

"It takes time," Shaggy said. "You didn't tell us she was trained to resist interrogation."

The sound of flesh colliding with flesh echoed around me. I tried to get my eyes to open but they weren't listening. Another blow landed and something damp hit my face.

"Take it easy," Mr. Cold said. "He's an asshole, but he's an effective asshole."

"When I want your opinion, Sergeant. I'll give it to you." The newcomer was furious. "We are on a clock. We need the information recovered or positively identified as destroyed. Then you can clean up the rest of Cartwright's mess."

Cartwright.

Marty…

They wanted the data.

They weren't going to get it.

"Well, we can't exactly drill into her gray matter and pull it out," Shaggy responded in a haggard, breathless voice. He actually sounded like he was in pain. I wished I could see it.

"Make it work. She's one woman, not even a particularly strong one. Use drugs if you have to. But I want that information reacquired. Work like your life depends on it." Then a door slammed as the man left.

"Bastard," Shaggy said, before he spit.

"Don't push him," Mr. Cold stated. "He will put the gun to your head himself and pull the trigger."

"Where are you going?" Shaggy demanded.

"To get the adrenaline. She can't answer anything if she's not awake." The door closed again. Not that I could do anything about it. I sagged against the restraints. They were the only things keeping me upright.

"If he had a better idea, they would have done something with it already." The bag over my head jerked off. Oh. That was why I couldn't see. Were my eyes open?

I wasn't entirely sure. Shaggy's grip bit into my face as he yanked my head back.

"This is going to get a lot worse for you," he told me. I tried to focus on him, but nothing worked the way it should. "Do me a favor and don't cooperate. I'll enjoy taking you apart."

The next time I woke up I was in the new cell. This wasn't right. I didn't go to the new cell then. That was later. It didn't matter, it was like being ambushed in the dark with a blindfold. The images fell like blows I couldn't avoid.

Across from me, they dropped a woman into the other cell. Right, the woman they wanted to be my friend. I tried to study her again without actually looking at her.

She was important, right?

Before I could see her face, I was being jerked backwards and a towel laid over my eyes and nose and mouth. Then water cascaded over me. I couldn't breathe.

Spots danced before my eyes.

Then I was back in the cell. They were talking. "I don't think it's cause we can't break her," a man was saying.

"No?" The woman was talking to him. I knew I'd been right about her. But I didn't know who the new guy was.

"No," he said and he sounded almost apologetic. "I think she doesn't know. These assholes are going to torture her to death to get it out of her."

"Stone thinks she has it. Cartwright says she's the one who took it. He confirmed the identification."

"We should pull her out now, offer her protection…"

A door opened and closed somewhere else, but when I forced my eyes open, the man and woman were gone.

Everything hurt.

More images danced through my mind, jerking and twitching as electricity was applied. Memorizing the codes. Getting out of the cell. Making my way up.

Then they were there…

McQuade and Locke.

They were there and they'd come for me.

I jerked upright, a scream half-formed in my throat. Light pooled in the dark, but it reflected off a familiar bald head and a pair of familiar hazel eyes.

"Remy?" I was shaking all over. My body still hurt with all the phantom pain. The scars and the marks made sense now. It was both right there and a thousand miles away. My earlier headache was definitely present.

"I'm here, luv," he promised and I surged up to meet him. I wrapped a hand around the back of his nape and dragged him downward. Our mouths crashed together and I drank him in like the air I so desperately needed.