Redeem My Heart (36 page)

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“I intentionally waited for Fallon to walk down to the cafeteria before coming in for a brief chat.”

Ryland rested a bare shoulder against the doorframe of the hospital room’s bathroom. He could appreciate Crest’s overdue visit had it taken place in another day or two, but one week out of surgery still found Ryland slightly weakened by the effort needed to use the facilities rather than the bedpan. The almost constant pain in his chest continually reminded him that he was vulnerable. The sterile smells and bustling sounds of the hospital staff were getting rather old, but they were still preferable over listening to what he knew Crest would have to say. The debriefings had taken place days ago and there was nothing material to add, but his opponent’s presence wasn’t about what had transpired. Crest’s visit was certainly more personal in nature.

“A phone call would have sufficed…even a note,” Ryland offered up, grateful that Fallon had brought him a pair of lounging pants so he didn’t have to suffer through the indignity of being half-dressed in that god-awful hospital gown with no back. He wouldn’t have wanted to inadvertently flash his ass to whoever was passing by in the corridor…including Gavin Crest. Ryland would leave the admiring to Fallon and he looked forward to when they could return to her apartment for some privacy and more than two hours rest without someone wanting to take his vitals. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit, Crest?”

“You still sound and look like the same old Ryland to me.” Crest contemplated his statement while he studied Ryland intently. He held up an envelope for Ryland to see before setting it down on the rollaway tray table hovering near the side of the hospital bed. “Either way, your hospital bill has been paid in full, while any other expenses occurred throughout your discharge and outpatient physical therapy will be picked up as well…courtesy of the federal marshal’s WITSEC program and in no small measure for your assistance in eliminating another potential embarrassment for the Agency.”

Ryland didn’t want to move from his position in the doorframe, not willing to permit Crest to witness his physical liabilities at the moment. It was an old habit—when you’re holding a losing hand, keep the opposition guessing. His competitive nature was still very well intact and that wouldn’t likely change anytime in the near future. He might respect Crest in the general sense, but that didn’t mean the two men would ever be more than mere professional acquaintances.

“Is that all?” Ryland inquired as a threatening impression fell over the room. He wasn’t at his physical best, but he still had the mental capacity to match Crest in any and all intellectual scenarios. He steeled himself for what was to come. “Feel free to lay all your cards on the table.”

“Not on your life,” Crest said with a short laugh, confirming what Ryland had initially thought. This visit was personal and had everything to do with his CSA team members and by extension certain others. “Your actions most likely saved the life of Derrick Christensen. That in no way erases what you have put the Christensen family through in the past. I assume I can count on you to steer far and wide of anything to do with me or my team members from this moment on?”

Ryland understood his restraints stipulated by the roles set forth due to his immunity agreement and could absolutely appreciate Crest’s position within those designs. He was the protector of his team, just as Ryland now considered himself to be with Fallon. Ryland and Crest’s paths were about to separate and in a very permanent way…it was bittersweet. He schooled his features, hiding the physical pain his body was experiencing, and stepped forward while lifting his arm.

“I would agree that we’ve concluded any business we’ve had together.”

Ryland waited patiently for Crest to return the tendered handshake, a deeper ache settling into his chest where he was exercising his muscles by extending his arm. He’d almost lowered his hand when his offer was finally accepted. Crest firmly returned his grip in recognition before making his way to the door. They were two adversaries who respected one another and that was where the line was drawn.

“Don’t think this erases my earlier promise,” Crest said before pulling the door open by the large silver handle. He looked back over his shoulder to guarantee his pledge remained in place. “I do have a bullet with your name engraved on the shell. Don’t go showing up on my doorstep, Ryland. You won’t like the impact anymore than I’ll enjoy the recoil.”

Ryland had to lay a hand over his chest as a laugh escaped, doing his best to contain it in order to prevent the overpowering pain that accompanied it. Crest was long gone by the time Ryland made his way back to the hospital bed. There was a part of him that was content to end this chapter of his life, while the other slice of him…well…it was a poignant moment. He was still smiling as he settled back against the pillow wondering how it would all turn out.

Chapter Thirty-One

One month later…

F
allon twisted a strand of her blonde hair around her finger as she concentrated on the piece of paper in front of her. It was a list of names Schultz had discovered upon a raid in a repurposed mental health hospital with an unusual amount of private security in Long Island. At least a dozen men and women were catalogued in the medical records they’d found there and their treatment was detailed, along with the results. Some had been successful and some hadn’t. What they all shared was the fact that all of these individuals were still missing.

The Keurig from her office was nestled next to the coffee maker on the kitchen counter and she pulled her mug from the small silver tray. Ryland was still sleeping, which was a miracle considering the insomnia that still plagued him, and she didn’t want to be the reason he awakened. She took her coffee and the list over to where her laptop was sitting on the coffee table and made herself comfortable on the floor, using the couch for back support.

“Is there a valid reason you’re up at five in the morning?”

Fallon couldn’t prevent her smile from forming upon hearing Ryland’s voice. It had been four long weeks of recovery but worth every effort put into it. She hadn’t taken any time they’d been given for granted and looked forward to a very long life by his side.

“I was checking out the view to see if our friends from the SB, DGSI, MI6, MSS, BND, Mossad and various other agencies were still keeping us company,” Fallon said, reaching up to touch Ryland’s hand as he sat on the couch and then tucked her in between his legs. It was hell not to be able to turn around and love him like a woman should. He was nude as usual and still healing, so she was careful not to lean back against him too much. “I even gave them a wave, although I think the CIA was the first to bow out and file their report. With that said, I think we’ll have company for quite a while.”

“The CIA retreating must be Jessalyn’s doing.” Ryland gathered Fallon’s hair and pulled it around to one side, giving him access to her neck. He placed a gentle kiss in the curve of her shoulder, causing her to wish he were healing a tad bit faster. They hadn’t made love since before the attempted exchange and she was more than ready. “Are you giving him inside information?”

Fallon laughed and then laid the piece of paper next to her laptop. She offered up her coffee, which he gratefully took. She shifted sideways so that she could see him, checking for herself that he wasn’t too tired to talk about some of the things that had transpired. He raised one eyebrow that let her know he didn’t appreciate her playing doctor. That gave her an idea, but she put it on hold.

“I haven’t spoken to Jessalyn for about a week, although Crest called me last night to see how you were doing.”

“Um-hmm.” Ryland swallowed another drink of coffee before reaching around her and setting it down on the list, which she immediately reached over and moved to make sure he hadn’t left dark rings that would prevent her from reading the names. “Crest didn’t call to check on my welfare. He called to check on yours.”

That was probably true but Fallon didn’t care. It wasn’t long after Townes had stalled the group to allow her to be with Ryland that Crest and Jessalyn had appeared by his bedside. They waited with her, much to her dismay, for Ryland to regain consciousness and then started the debriefing. There wasn’t much new Ryland could tell them that they hadn’t already known. Two separate paths had intercepted that day with only one goal in mind—to save Derrick Christensen’s life. The rescue operation had been successful, mostly in part due to Ryland’s quick thinking.

Jax and Emily had stopped by Ryland’s room the day after, even going so far as to shake his hand. There would never be a friendship there, but dues had somewhat been paid and it was silently accepted that each would go their own separate way.

Taryn, on the other hand, had waited to visit Ryland until he’d been released from the hospital. She’d come to Fallon’s apartment, Ethan by her side, while she asked Ryland questions about Yvette that she’d never had answered. It wasn’t a bonding in any sort of a familial manner, but it satisfied both parties.

“I have some ideas of how we might be able to track down the individuals from the program Grahn had reinstituted,” Fallon said, switching the subject off of Crest. She didn’t want to talk about something that would never change. “Considering you were their most successful subject, it would have made sense for them to train the newer subjects the same way with the same methods. We need to put ourselves in the mind of a programed subject in order to predict their next move. We can’t just leave them out there with their memories either distorted or erased. You need to—”

“What I need is you.”

Ryland’s statement was clear and concise. Fallon stopped talking and looked up at him, his brown eyes as observant as always. He’d been watching her closely lately, almost as if he was waiting for her to change her mind about her decision to resign from the Bureau and also her resolution to be with him. She’d been waiting for
this
moment and would make the most of it.

Fallon stood and grabbed Ryland’s hand, leading him slowly into the bedroom. She gestured to the bed and delayed a moment so that he could make himself comfortable. She undressed while he was doing so, tossing her workout clothes onto the ground. Her usual daily routine could wait until later. Right now, she had plans to show the man she loved just how much he meant to her and reassure him that she would forever remain by his side.

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Ryland refused to put a hand on his chest when a sharp pain traveled through his fresh scar. It would only cause Fallon to think he wasn’t ready to love her. She’d been cautious of him overdoing it, but he was tired of waiting. It wasn’t an easy feat for him to pull through and manage to live after the shot to the chest he’d taken. He still stroked his wound every day to remind himself that he was still here…with her. He didn’t deserve to be alive, but he wouldn’t throw away what was being given to him either. Just because his memories had returned didn’t mean all of Travis’ traits had…Ryland was still a selfish son of a bitch.

He watched Fallon remove her clothes and climb on top of him, somehow having gotten her hands on those red scarves he’d come to love so much. It was then that Ryland rested a hand on his chest as he tried to prevent the pain from worsening when he laughed. He shook his head, indicating that there wasn’t a way in hell she would ever get those around his wrists.

Fallon actually contemplated going for it. Ryland could see the wheels spinning behind those bright blue eyes of hers, but she was intelligent enough to know that she wouldn’t win. With a small shrug of defeat, she tossed the scarves on top of her clothes that lay beside the bed and then carefully straddled him.

“I should make sure you’re healthy enough for such a rigorous activity,” Fallon said in a seductive tone as she leaned forward to grasp his hand. “You’ll meet Nurse Canna at a later date, when you’re up for such a thorough examination.”

Damn but Fallon was irresistible when she was in a playful mood. It so went against the poised, elegant, and professional woman she presented to the world. Ryland appreciated both and fought against the laugh she was unaware she was producing.