Relentless (22 page)

Nev silently applauded her and added her own glare.

“Just had to clear up a thing or two with the staff,” he said evasively.

She and Bryn looked at each other. Yeah, right. But whatever had made the four of them tear out of there must have been dealt with, because after another few minutes she caught sight of Rhys through the far door, approaching the entrance with Luke and Dec. Luke looked a bit drawn, but she couldn't see any overt signs of concern or danger so she let herself relax. Bryn jumped up and went to Dec, who lifted her off the floor and kissed her soundly. Neveah went to Rhys.

Ordering her heart to slow down, she gave him a big smile and was shocked when he came up and hauled her into his arms for a tight hug. Returning the embrace, she gave Ben a startled look over Rhys's shoulder but he just grinned and shrugged. When Rhys released her, she narrowed her eyes. “What happened?”

“Nothing. Just missed you.”

As far as excuses went, that one was pathetic. She was about to demand an explanation when Ben came up to take her hand. “Dancing's about to start,” he said, eyes alight with mischief. “I believe you promised me a dance.” Neveah glanced behind her. Bryn was already making her way back to the table.

Damn she hated being kept out of the loop, but neither of them would tell her anything, so it looked like Rhys had just earned a reprieve. For now, she thought as she let Ben lead her to the edge of the dance floor.

Against all odds, Rhys's heart rate was close to normal when Ben drew Neveah away. He made his way back to their table with Luke between him and Dec. They flanked him like bodyguards because they were afraid he might keel over. If their boss had been pale before the security incident, now he was downright ashen. Who the hell could blame him?

Rhys consciously slowed his breathing. Shit, that had been close. His whole body battled the adrenaline wave and the knowledge of how close the threat had come to everyone at the reception. Especially Neveah. The thought of anyone hurting her again galvanized him to do whatever he had to in order to keep her safe. In his heightened state, the loud music hit his eardrums like mortar rounds, so he could only imagine what it did to Luke's head.

At least things were secure again. They'd found Hassan in the back and Rhys had frog-marched him out to face Luke. After he'd refused to talk, they'd done a sweep of the kitchen first and then the rest of the place, quickly and efficiently without anyone taking notice of what they were doing. They'd found two more pistols, but nothing else. Luke had doubled security at each of the exit and entry points to the facility. They'd vetted each of the employees, and Luke assessed the threat to be over. For now. Hassan was on his way to the police station to meet his “cousin.” Thing was, there had to be more members of the cell nearby, and they wouldn't necessarily be of Middle-Eastern descent.

Next to him, Luke squinted a bit as they came through the doors from the comparatively dim patio. The bride and groom were on the dance floor, swaying to the music in the traditional first dance as husband and wife. They appeared totally lost in each other, and happy as anyone could want them to be. Luke must have been relieved about that.

Thank Christ no one else knew about the foiled plot. The groom had to know something was up, because he was a cop and there were suddenly three strangers on the guest list. Two of whom just happened to be stacked twin brothers well over six feet tall, with special ops backgrounds. According to Luke, his son trusted his old man to look after everything and hadn't pressed him for details beyond seeking assurance they shouldn't postpone the wedding.

Now, Rhys and the rest of the team simply had to make sure the newlyweds and everyone else in the place stayed ignorant about what had just gone down.

He and Dec kept pace with Luke as they walked over to their table at the edge of the dance floor. They were close enough to grab Luke if he needed it, but Rhys wouldn't dare touch him unless he was going over. He and Dec had enough respect for Luke to save him that humiliation, and they were more than capable of pulling off the acting job necessary to make everyone think everything was hunky dory. Another handy skill he'd perfected during his years in special ops.

Except for some reason, lying to Neveah made him feel dirty. Not that he regretted it in this case. He'd continue to lie if it meant keeping her safe and happy.

When they finally reached their table, Luke all but dropped into his chair. Taking a seat next to him, Rhys ruthlessly got hold of his adrenal glands, slowing his heart rate, focusing on the happy newlyweds dancing before him and Nev waiting over with Ben. When they finished amidst an eruption of applause, the bride danced with her stepfather. By the time that song ended, Luke was in control enough to smile at his new daughter-in-law when she came up and did a curtsy in front of him.

“May I have this dance?”

Rhys hid a wince when the smile froze on Luke's lips. Rhys looked away, and in his peripheral vision found the groom pulling Emily onto the floor as the music started again. Rhys pointedly avoided glancing at his boss in the awkward hesitation that followed the bride's invitation. Luke was
so
not in the mood for dancing.

But Christa's aquamarine eyes sparkled as she reached down to grasp Luke's hand. Probably because he didn't want to hurt her feelings or cause a scene, he rose and followed her. Rhys had to give the guy credit. If he hadn't known Luke so well, Rhys would never have guessed he was suffering. Luke even managed to chat pleasantly with her while they were out there. Like nothing had ever happened, and he wasn't in the kind of pain that would have most men curled into a ball on the floor and begging for their mamas.

Half of Rhys's attention was on the security team members posted about the room, and the other half was divided between Luke while he danced and Neveah, who was talking with Ben while waiting for the group invite onto the floor. The song finally ended, but when Luke kissed Christa's cheek and turned to leave, he stopped dead in his tracks. Completely froze, like he'd been paralyzed.

Rhys started to rise, thinking Luke was about to fall, but then he saw what had brought his boss up so short.

Emily stood right in front of him. Luke didn't even have time to cover his surprise before her warm smile slipped a notch.

Rhys kept watching in case Luke needed help, and saw him cover a wince when he shot a fervent glance behind him. The mother of the bride and the stepfather were dancing now. They were divorced too, and by all accounts not amicably. Rhys could almost hear Luke's thoughts. If they could keep up the pretense of getting along for one dance, then Luke would suck it up too. He was going to have to dance with his ex-wife.

By now, everyone watched them expectantly. Especially the groom, who threw his old man an “I-know-you're-on-edge-but-don't-be-an-asshole” look.

Covering the awkward lapse, Luke took Emily's hand and led her onto the floor. Glancing across the table, Rhys looked at Bryn, perched on Dec's lap. She had her hand over her mouth, her eyes wide as she stared at the couple. When Rhys met her gaze she immediately dropped her hand and smiled, but she couldn't mask the worry in her black gaze.

He folded his arms and settled back into his seat. Whatever the history was between Luke and his ex, it had to be quite the story.

“Oh, man,” Ben said in a low voice, staring at something past her head.

Nev peered around his shoulder. “What?”

“Luke's dancing with his ex.”

“So?”

“Man, that guy's got balls of steel.”

Nev scowled. “Actually, I think
she
does. She's the one that made the overture in the first place.” After meeting Emily and learning a bit about her past with Luke, Nev was convinced the older woman had a spine of titanium to go through with this. Good for her.

But oh, man, they looked awkward. They avoided eye contact with each other, and Luke's mouth was a grim line in his bearded face as he stared straight out in front of him over Emily's shoulder. Nev's heart went out to her.

Tearing her eyes away from them, she went back to enjoying herself. She was
going
to have a good time, dammit. She'd earned it. Within moments her steps smoothed out.

Ben was fun and a great dancer, though she would have preferred having Rhys with her out here. Was it true he never danced? She peered through the dancing couples. He was still at their table with Bryn and Dec, but he was staring intently at Luke, like he was waiting for something. A signal, maybe. A fine tension took hold of her. Was something still wrong? Did it have to do with whatever had happened earlier?

Then Rhys turned his gaze on Ben and gave a subtle twist of his head in Luke's direction. Ben instantly began steering them toward the other couple.

Nev stiffened. “What are you doing?”

“Impressing you with my skill?”

Despite her reluctance to intrude, he brought them up beside Luke and Emily, close enough that Nev could clearly see their expressions, but not close enough that they crowded them or overheard what they were saying.

Something was up. Nev did her own survey of Luke, checking if he seemed concerned. Instead, she saw a fine sheen of sweat on his forehead, though it wasn't hot in the room. And this close she realized he was past pale, into an ungodly shade of gray. She stopped dancing. “Ben,” she began, worried Luke might get sick right then and there, and his steps suddenly faltered.

With her hand still resting on Luke's shoulder, Emily stilled, and Nev heard her over the music. “Luke?”

Luke blinked fast, barely moving now.

“Sorry,” Nev heard him reply, and tugged out of Ben's grip. He might need her—

Emily pulled back a bit. “You're pale. Do you need to sit down?”

“I'm fine.”

Somehow Luke found his rhythm again, leaving Nev wondering when the hell the damned song would end. She glanced behind her for another signal from Rhys. At the table, Dec was laughing up into Bryn's face, still sitting on his knee, and Rhys had his arm across the back of the chair next to him. Watching Luke, but not on alert. Maybe he didn't realize how ill Luke was.

Ben took her into dance position again and moved them even closer, and Nev caught the way Luke winced and sucked in a breath when he turned. Emily peered up into his face with concern.

“He's hurting bad,” Nev whispered to Ben, having trouble keeping up with the dance because she was more concerned with Luke.

“Yeah. That's why I'm over here.”

“Is it his head?”

“Looks like.”

Damn. What if he hadn't gotten himself checked out in Afghanistan?

Then Emily stopped again. “Luke, what's wrong?”

He'd stopped dancing, too. God, was he swaying on his feet?

Oh, shit, no...
“Ben— ”

“Luke?” Emily's voice was sharp with concern. She held both Luke's wrists.

“Fine,” he rasped.

“No, you're not— ”

Nev whipped her head around, searching for help. Ben wasn't jumping in, and she didn't want to embarrass Luke, but he was in trouble.

“Rhys,” Ben called.

As though it was a predetermined signal, Rhys and Dec shot out of their chairs.

When she glanced back at Luke, he'd let go of Emily to spin around, and his knees crumpled. As Rhys swooped in, the last thing Nev saw was Emily's arms shooting out to catch her ex-husband as he went down.

At Ben's warning, Rhys jumped up from the table. Luke seemed to wobble, then Emily threw a panicked look over her shoulder. Rhys raced toward Luke. The guy's face was bloodless, eyes unfocused. Emily cried out and raised her arms to cushion his fall as he started to crumple, but Rhys leapt forward to grab Luke around the shoulders, controlling his descent and cushioning the back of his head with one hand before it hit the floor. Around them, everyone froze, watching the spectacle with wide eyes. Emily was already on her knees calling Luke's name, holding his face, taking his pulse.

She raised her head, eyes frantic. “Is there a doctor— ”

“Right here.” Neveah materialized beside them with Ben and crouched next to Rhys at Luke's side.

His lids fluttered, then lifted slowly, some of the color leeching back into his face as he gazed up at the wall of people surrounding him. “Shit,” he muttered, lifting a hand to wipe damp his face.

Rhys looked to Neveah, who met his questioning gaze with a nod. Sliding one arm beneath Luke's shoulders, he glanced across the circle at Dec. “Let's get him up and out of here.” Together, they hoisted Luke up and all but dragged him out of the ball room.

Dec spoke to Bryn on their way past. “Stay here and do some damage control. Keep the bride and groom here with Emily. We'll be back in a minute.”

While Bryn rushed off to intercept the newlyweds, already trying to make their way to Luke, Rhys and Dec walked him out with as much dignity as possible. Too late to save him the embarrassment of passing out in front of everyone, but at least they'd gotten him up and out fast, away from gawking spectators.

As soon as they had him outside and away from prying eyes, they set him down on a wrought iron park bench, then backed up to provide security while he got some air, both careful not to look at him. A guy deserved some privacy after an episode like that.

Nev glanced between Luke and him. “May I?” she asked. Rhys nodded, and she went past to sit next to Luke.

She gazed at him in her frank way, all business. “You didn't get that CT scan in Kabul, did you?”

Luke's mouth moved in the ghost of a smile. “Busted.”

She folded her arms across her chest, her serious expression telling him she didn't find anything about that amusing. “What other symptoms do you have?”

He shrugged. “The usual.”

“Such as?”

“Headaches, dizziness, nausea, blurred vision.”

“For how long?”

“Couple months.”

Rhys winced. Uh-oh. Way wrong answer. Nev was gonna let him have it.

“Any behavioral changes? Memory loss?”

Luke hesitated a fraction of a second too long before answering. “Some.”