Night Game (47 page)

“Flame, you know better. Look at me. You know it wasn’t like that.”

She was going to be sick. Her stomach churned and she could hear the silent screams in her head growing louder. There was so much pain. She hadn’t expected it to be so bad, the utter humiliation of knowing he had slept with her to do his job.

Surprisingly she wasn’t restrained. She struggled into a sitting position, batting away his hands when he tried to help her. “Don’t touch me. I never want you to touch me again.” She pressed a hand to her stomach. “Where’s the bathroom? I’m going to be sick.” It was already too late. He shoved a small tray into her hands and she was further humiliated by throwing up over and over again in front of him.

He left her side for a brief moment to return with a cool washcloth and towel. She took it without looking at him. She knew if she looked, if she saw his face and his lying eyes, the terrible storm inside of her would crash over her and she would break apart, shatter so completely that she wouldn’t be Flame anymore.

Raoul took the small tray from her, dumped it and rinsed it out, returning it to the bed within reach of her hand. The sight of the tray triggered childhood memories. Ugly. Torturous. She felt dizzy and for a moment couldn’t catch her breath.

Control. Discipline. Patience.
She repeated the mantra silently. She knew what she had to do. She was prepared; she’d been prepared ever since the first moment of her escape. Death wasn’t nearly as bad as living as a lab rat.

She let her breath out slowly. “I guess you didn’t believe me when I told you I’d destroy everything before I’d be put in a cage again. I’m willing to die here, Raoul, are you? Because you have about two minutes to get the hell out and take everyone else with you.”

“Why warn me, Flame? Why not just do it?”

“Get out, Raoul.” She was tired. Desperately tired and drained. The screams in her head had subsided, but now, somewhere deep inside she was silently weeping. Great terrible sobs that she couldn’t control were shredding her heart. Her body shook with sobs, her chest ached and her throat was nearly closed with the tears clogging it, but no sound escaped. She refused to give that to him.

“I’m not leaving your side.”

“Look, you did your job. You can go tell all your buddies how great you are. You royally fucked me.”

“
Maudit
! That’s not the way it was.”

“That’s
exactly
the way it was. You knew you couldn’t force me back so you pretended to fall in love with me.” She shook her head. “I can’t believe I fell for every word you said. Be proud of yourself. Maybe Whitney will give you a nice bonus. Just get the hell out of here. I can’t stand the sight of you.” She pressed the wet cloth over her face, hoping it would cool her burning eyes.

“You would never have come in on your own, Flame. Never.”

“Where am I? The room is soundproofed, but it’s no hospital.”

“I couldn’t risk taking you to Lily’s home. All of us stay there on and off and Lily’s pregnant. If you decided to retaliate, I had to find a way to contain the damage. You can kill me, Flame, but I’m not going to let you take out the others. They only did what I asked them to do because they wanted to help you.”

She looked at her broken arm, at the new cast, unmarred by the rain and water of the bayou. “I suppose you’re going to tell me Lily did this.”

“She had to check to make certain there was no infection from the alligator bite. You’re on strong antibiotics and painkillers, but with the cast getting wet—”

“Where’s Peter Whitney?” she demanded, cutting him off.

“I have no idea. I’ve brought you to a facility where Lily can treat the cancer and we can guard you from Peter Whitney, if, in fact, he’s still alive and is trying to take you back. Peter Whitney has
nothing
to do with this—or with me. I brought you here because it was the only way to keep you alive.”

“That’s not your decision to make.” She was holding on by a thread, rocking back and forth to try to soothe the pain. How could he have taken away her free will?

“It is my decision, Flame. It should have been. I love you and…”

“Damn you to hell for even saying that.”
She jerked the cloth from her face and for the first time forced herself to look at him. It was a terrible mistake. He didn’t look like the devil. He looked like the man she loved with his dark wavy hair and his impossible eyes. His sinful mouth and perfect body. Instead of the anger and rage she so desperately needed, she broke down.

The storm inside her body took over and she heard a long wail of grief break free. It tore through her insides and escaped before she could contain it. Flame buried her face in the pillow in an attempt to muffle the sound of her sobbing. She’d given him something so precious. Not her body, or even her love, but she
trusted
him. She didn’t want to see shadows in his eyes, or a face ravaged by worry. She wanted to hate him the way he deserved to be hated.

The bed shook with her sobs. The room shook. Gator stood against the wall listening to her crying as if he’d not just broken her heart, but ripped it out of her body. He’d destroyed her. There was no way to comfort her, nothing he could find to say that she would understand. He sank into the small armchair he’d set by the door and covered his face with his hands. He’d expected anger, rage, an emotion he could cope with, but she was killing him with her grief. And it was grief. Her grief was destroying him.

He felt her pain as if it were his own. He’d done the right thing, taken the
only
avenue available to him. His chest tightened and his throat ached. Tears burned in his eyes. He’d done this to her. He’d made the decision to save her life, knowing he’d probably lose her, but he hadn’t considered the consequences beyond that. He thought he could bear losing her as long as he knew she was alive, but he couldn’t bear being the one to cause her such pain.

Flame felt a hand on her shoulder. Her first reaction was to shrug it off, but the hand was soft and thin, the scent strong of lavender. The hand stroked back her hair and a soft voice murmured comforting words. “There, there,
cher
. It will be all right. I’m here now. We’ll make it all right.”

“Nonny?” Was she hallucinating? She turned her head to see the little old lady standing beside her bed, her eyes filled with concern. “You can’t be here.” She tried to get the words out between the tearing sobs. Her breathing was so ragged, her throat so sore, she could barely get the words out. Worse, she was going to be sick again.

Flame groped blindly for the tray, vomiting over and over until she had the dry heaves. Nonny took the tray from her and pushed the wet washcloth into her hand. Somewhere in the room, Raoul watched and that knowledge only added to her humiliation. How could he do this to her?

Nonny was back, slipping an arm around her and taking the cloth, replacing it with a glass of water. “This will pass, Flame. Lily said you might be sick.”

Flame fought to control the wild weeping. She’d learned a long time ago it didn’t do any good. It only gave her a headache and made her angry with herself for giving Whitney the satisfaction of getting to her. Now it was Raoul. Another sob escaped.
How could he have done it?

I had no choice.

Flame closed her eyes, ashamed of her lack of control. The intensity of her emotions was so strong she was connecting with him. She made an effort to pull herself together.
Control. Discipline. Patience
. She repeated it over and over until she calmed the wild storm enough to sip the water and gain a semblance of control.

“How long have I been here?”

“Forty-six hours,” Raoul answered. He leaned back until his head rested against the wall. He’d had forty-six hours to prepare for this, yet he had never considered her heart—or his—would break.

“That can’t be. Nonny, you have to get out of here, now. It’s too dangerous for you to stay. Raoul, get her out of here.”

Nonny patted her hand. “Now, now, child, don’ be gettin’ yourself riled up again. Raoul explained you were like him, some kind of government weapon, and that you could lose control and maybe bring the building down on top of us.”

“Not maybe, Nonny, I could. I don’t know what he was thinking, bringing you with him.”

“He told me what he was goin’ to do, and I knew you’d be plenty angry with him. It was wrong to take matters into his own hands, but he’s always been like that. I knew you’d be upset and you’d need me. I don’ care about the danger. Raoul loves you. You’re family, girl. I take care of my family.”

Flame shook her head. “This is crazy. You can’t stay, Nonny. Bad things happen in these places. Raoul knows that. He should never have allowed you to risk your life.”

Nonny laughed. “Honey, I’m on the backside of my life. I’ve lived full and long and had a good run. You’re just beginning, same as Raoul. I was the one who told Raoul I was going to come with you. He tried to talk me out of it, but I told him you were goin’ to need me.”

Flame closed her eyes. She couldn’t risk Nonny’s life. She just couldn’t. She looked so innocent, so frail, so determined to help and yet she didn’t have a clue how utterly dangerous staying really was. “Listen to me. I swear to you, I won’t use sound as a weapon. I’ll do everything they tell me, but you can’t stay here. If Raoul is telling the truth and he isn’t working for Peter Whitney, then believe me, Whitney will send others to get me back and a whole lot of people are going to die here. You can’t stay, Nonny.”

“You’re a good girl, Flame. I’m here and I’m goin’ to watch over you and see things done right. If someone is trying to take you from my boy, well you just trust him to keep you safe. He swore to me he and the others would stay with you every minute and I believe in him.”

Flame sank back onto the mattress. Of course Raoul’s grandmother believed in him; he hadn’t ripped her heart out of her chest and stomped on it. She closed her eyes and turned her face away, tears leaking onto the pillow. “Are there cameras in here, Raoul?”

“No. You aren’t restrained, but the door is locked and guarded. I’ll be inside with you at all times. Kadan, Tucker and Ian are guarding the building around the clock. A couple of other members of my team, men I trust implicitly, will be joining us. Both Lily and Ryland are here as well. Nico and Sam are out on a mission but, Dahlia’s en route. They should be here in a few hours. The general sent us some help as well. They aren’t enhanced, but they’re good soldiers and highly trained.”

Gator kept his tone informative and made no attempt to go near the bed. Flame was obviously hanging on by a thread and it was only his grandmother’s presence that kept violence from erupting. There was always the possibility of suicide, but she would never do such a thing as long as she felt she had to protect Nonny.

Flame took a deep breath and let it out, forcing her mind away from betrayal and back toward logic. “When do you think he’ll try to hit us?”

So she was accepting the fact that he wasn’t working for Peter Whitney. That was the first step. A small one, but he’d take it. “If he’s really looking to reacquire you, and the general consensus is that either he, or someone familiar with his program, is, then the logical action would be to come after you immediately, before we’re set. We found tranquilizers, not bullets in the sniper’s rifle.”

“He has to have an informer, or he wouldn’t have known I was in the bayou.”

“It isn’t Lily. And the computer probably tells him the same thing it tells Lily. If he wrote the program and feeds in personalities, the program will tell him what you’re most likely to do next.”

“You need to get Nonny out of here. We don’t have enough manpower to keep her safe.” She looked around her. “Where are my clothes?”

“You aren’t getting up.”

She turned her head to stare straight at him and there was fire in her eyes. “Don’t you tell me what I can or can’t do.”

Whatever drugs they’d been giving her to keep her knocked out still lingered in her system. She felt slow, her mind a little hazy. And obviously Lily had started a chemotherapy treatment. Flame wasn’t one of the lucky ones. Chemo treatments often made her violently ill. Her stomach was heaving again and she turned her face away from Raoul so he couldn’t see her gagging. “Nonny. Please cover your ears for me.”

“Are you going to blast my boy?”

“I should, but I’m not.”

Nonny covered her ears.

Flame glared at Raoul. “When my hair falls out I’m going to shave your balls with a rusty knife.”

He flinched visibly. There wasn’t much he could say to that and the warning made his cock jerk with fear. The woman was more than capable of carrying out the threat. He studied her expression. Proud. Defiant. Hurt. Scared. His heart sank. When her hair fell out. Not if, but when. She’d been through this before, knew what was coming and she was going to lose that mass of beautiful red hair. He wanted to hold her, tell her it didn’t matter, that her hair didn’t define who she was, that it would be all right, but she held herself away from him and there was no way to bridge the gap. Still, he tried.

“Look, Flame, you told me you wouldn’t allow Saunders to kill you any more than you would Whitney. If you die of cancer, you’re letting Whitney kill you. You’d be letting him win.”

She ignored his logic. “I’ll need my weapons.”

“You think I’m going to arm you when you’re so pissed off you want to shave my balls? You’re a powder keg right now.”

“Give them to me.” Flame reached out and tapped Nonny’s arm. “You can put your hands down now, I’m not talking to him anymore.”

Nonny patted her hand again and leaned very close. “When you get to feelin’ better, I might have to wash out your mouth with soap.” It hadn’t done much good to press her hands over her ears.

“That should be an experience,” Raoul muttered under his breath.

Flame flicked him a quick glance, meant to wither him on the spot, but her voice was gentle, compliant even, when she spoke to Nonny. “I’ll work on it.”

“Good girl. We can’t have you talking that way in front of the babies.”