Revenge (2 page)

Heath sighed and shook his head. “All I can say is talk to your boyfriend. He's got a whole freaking month off for vacation.” He released the target paper from the clips.

A month of vacation time?
That was probably going to drive Remy completely out of his mind not working for the entire time. “All right. I will.”

• • •

After leaving the gun range, Cody made a quick stop at The Red Moon Ranch, her family home, to inspect the ongoing construction of the new house. Satisfied with the progress made, she returned to her downtown Fort Worth apartment she shared with Kim. Upon driving into the parking lot, Cody spotted a man leaning against a motorcycle. Recognizing the posture and the reflective sunglasses, her stomach did that funny flip it did every time she saw him.

Remy was here.

Cody parked in her assigned spot, turned off the engine and stared at him.

He straightened from the Harley and removed his sunglasses. In the last three weeks he'd let his dark-brown hair grow out; the ends had a slight wave to them. Those deep brown eyes stared back at her, those penetrating, knowing eyes that peered into her soul. With a subtle jerk of his head, he indicated they go into the apartment.

Tremors seized her hands, and she fumbled with the keys until she yanked them from the ignition. Here was her chance to question him about the results of his meeting with his lieutenant and find out why he had a month off from work. And the thought of doing it made her queasy.

She slid from the cab; her legs wobbled under her weight. He did that to her lately, turned her into soggy horse feed just at the sight of him. Damn, if this is how she reacted to the man while they were dating, what would he do to her if they married?

Gathering her wits, she made her way to the building, glancing over her shoulder to check if he followed as she walked. He joined her at the door, holding it open to let her inside. No words passed between them as they mounted the stairs to the second-floor apartment.

Once inside, he closed the door and remained in the entryway. Cody shuffled a few feet into the main living area, dropped the keys on the leather steamer trunk behind the couch and then slowly faced him. She liked his clean-shaven appearance.

His gaze locked on her as his shoulders rose and fell. The corner of his mouth tilted up in his trademark charming grin as he crossed the floor in two strides.

She tamped down the need to wrap herself in his arms. Cocking her hip, she set her left fist on it and placed her right hand against his chest to halt any more forward progress. His heartbeat vibrated through her palm.

“How'd the meeting with Moreno go?”

“Fine,
chère
.” His voice quickly slid into his sexy Cajun French these days. He reached up and removed a piece of hay that clung to her T-shirt. “Spoiling your horses again?”

She took the hay and twirled it between her fingers and thumb. “They haven't exactly gotten much work outta me lately.” The fiasco with rebuilding her home, moving into the apartment, and spending as much time with Remy as she could while he was on suspension took away from her barrel horses and racing career. “So, what was the verdict?”

“IA said the charges were unfounded.”

Frowning, Cody flicked the piece of hay toward the door. “What does that mean?”

“Not enough evidence to find me guilty.”

It took more than five months for Remy to finally open up to her about why he left New Orleans and the death of his wife and unborn child. Yet there was still more to that story, some of which he obviously didn't intend to discuss.

“So, now what?” she asked, massaging the back of her neck.

“I've served my suspension.” He tousled his wind-blown hair, further messing it up. “Moreno decided that wasn't enough, so he made me take a mandatory vacation.”

Cody resisted the urge to smooth down his hair and let it run between her fingers. She knew the answer before asking, but she had to hear him confirm it. “For how long?”

“A month,
chère
.” He inched closer.

“Wow.” Her hand fell away from her neck. “What are ya gonna do for that long?”

As if her question was the thing he sought to give him reason to touch her, Remy finally closed the gap between them and cupped her face. “Something I should have done a long time ago.” His voice carried a hint of regret.

Apprehension wiggled past her contentment. “I don't understand.”

He gave her a weak smile and stroked his thumbs over the high points of her cheeks. Bowing his head until their foreheads met, he sighed and said something in French. His native tongue caused her to shiver. Six months now and she still couldn't understand him well but gathered the gist. Gently, he brushed a kiss against her mouth.

She closed her eyes, relishing the feel of his warm lips. The mingled scents of cedar, spice, and outdoors—his scent—wrapped around her, drawing her as close to him as she could get. Her hands slipped around his waist, and she hooked her thumbs in his Levi's back pockets.

Her possessive gesture made Remy groan. He deepened the kiss, driving his fingers through her hair.

Cody's body hummed with pleasure. For weeks she had craved another moment in bed with him. Her meltdown and nosedive into a liquor bottle after their first time sleeping together had prevented her from seeking repeat sex with Remy. Fear that her recovery with alcoholism would falter again was incentive enough to wait. Yet, right now, she could forget that horrible reaction and let him intoxicate her. Moaning, she thrust her hips into his.

Remy gasped against her mouth and ended their kiss. Breathlessly he pressed his forehead to hers. “You're making this harder on me.”

“Making what harder on you?”

Closing his eyes, he turned his head slightly to the side. He dragged in a ragged breath and looked at her. “You know I love you?”

The way he said it, how the words tripped over his voice, it turned her body cold. “Remy—”

He trapped her lips with his thumbs. “I love you. That's the reason I have to leave—”

“No!” Cody ripped free of his grasp and stumbled backward. “Don't you dare say it.”

Advancing toward her, he tried to reach for her. Cody swatted his hands away and backed out of his reach. “You will
not
get to decide what's best for us.”

“I don't have a choice.”

“There's always a choice,” Her scream was high pitched. She was losing it. “If you're going, I'm coming with you.”

“
Non!
You can't come with me. This isn't like dealing with the Rodeo Sweethearts Killer or a professional assassin. I'm not letting you get in harm's way again.”

“Oh my God, you're doing it again. Treating me like the li'l woman, and relegating me to the corner while you act like the big ol' He-Man.”

“Damn it, Cody, this isn't about that.”

“Then let it go, Remy. Walk away and let nature take its course. Don't give them more rope to hang you with.”

He hung his head. “I can't let it go.” He looked at her. “If there's a chance for us, I have to do this.”

Anger boiled in her chest. “How much more do I have to do to make you see I'm not Marie, that your wife's fate isn't mine?”

Heat flashed through his eyes, and rigid lines appeared on his face. Cody couldn't react fast enough. He bore down on her, caught her shoulders and thrust her against the wall. Smashing his lips to hers, their teeth clicked together as he laid claim to her mouth once more. Her anger dissipated into passion, and she drove her fingers through his hair, kissing him with the same fervor. Suddenly, she realized what he was doing.

Damn him for turning alpha male on her and trying to control their relationship. She jerked her head to the side, ripping her mouth free of his, then slapped her palms into his chest and shoved back. Remy stumbled away, halting inches from the couch.

Tears coated her vision. “You take this path without me, there won't be an
us
anymore.”

He shook his head then pinched the bridge of his nose. “You just don't get it.” He jerked his arm to his side. “I won't watch you die.”

Unbelievable. He'd risk their relationship over some stupid vendetta. Cody's legs wobbled. Steeling herself, she thrust her shoulders back. “I'm done taking this shit from you. You want to go play hero and leave me home to worry? Then go. But I won't be here waiting for you.” She pointed at the door. “So get the hell out of here.”

He hesitated. She stomped forward, grabbed his arm and pushed him toward the door. “Leave!” She spun on her heels, stumbled a few steps away. A small piece of her hoped he'd rethink his plan and take her with him, apologize for being such an ass. When she heard the door click shut, her heart shattered.
Oh, God. He did it.
He ended their relationship with one fell swoop. Burying her face in her hands, she sobbed as she fumbled down the apartment hall to her room.

• • •

Every fiber of Remy's being begged him to reconsider, to go back into the apartment and tell Cody he was sorry, tell her he was wrong and he wasn't leaving without her. He had to free her from him—for her own protection. He just hadn't expected it to go this way.

And it hurt worse than any knife wound or bullet to his body.

It was better this way. Her anger at him would fuel her, keep her going, keep her from following. Remy returned to his bike and mounted. Turning the key, he revved the engine and sat there a moment, glancing back at the apartment building's second-story window. Maybe he could return to her and fix this. For now, with no vulnerable connection left for his enemies to exploit, he could go into this mission with a clear head.

Cody was safe.

Kickstand back, he settled on the bike, twisted the throttle, and roared out of the parking lot.

Remy's enemies were not so lucky.

What should have taken Remy a day to get to New Orleans took him two and a half. Several times he nearly turned the Harley around and returned to Dallas and Cody. Each time he talked himself out of it. And once . . .

Once he almost took the coward's way out. When had he lost that much faith to believe, again, that ending his life was the right choice? Damn the demons that tormented his soul.

As he guided the bike through the western edge of New Orleans, nothing appeared the same as it had six years ago. The once grand trees rising out of Lake Pontchartrain's swamp on the west side of the Causeway Bridge had been decimated. Katrina had done a nasty number on the city Remy once called home. It would be interesting to see how the tourist area, the French Quarter, looked now.

He merged onto Lakeshore Drive, leaving the thick cluster of homes and businesses to follow the Pontchartrain's southern shoreline. Rounding the gradual curve, the marina to his left gave way to the yacht harbor. White masts speared the blue expanse while seagulls glided on the wind currents. A breeze off the lake cooled his face. The Harley's rumble seemed too loud for the peacefulness, so Remy slowed the bike to ten miles under the speed limit.

To his right, the ground levee and the cement barriers blocked most of his view of the homes on the opposite side. On his left, he had an uninterrupted view of the Pontchartrain. A few people walked along the sidewalks on both sides of the road, some people sat on the benches facing the setting sun. On the lake, a small boat bounced over the waves, heading east.

Gliding along, Remy's nerves strained. He fought the images of the past that tied him to
En Ville
. Memories of he and Marie out on the Pontchartrain on her
p
èr
e's yacht, of walking along the shore with his arm wrapped around her waist, and kissing her on the dock. And the memory he fought hardest was of the crime scene photos of her bloated body, floating in the lake's dark waters.

He thought he'd prepared himself. What he didn't count on was the emotional turmoil coming back wrought on his mind and body. The memory of Marie's mutilated body and Cody's safety kept him going forward. He had failed one woman he loved. He couldn't fail Cody.

The wrath of hell would come down on those who'd destroyed his old life and threatened his new one.

The street he sought loomed ahead. Letting the bike idle down, he banked the turn, coasted down the slight rise, and turned onto the first street. Palmetto and banana trees lined the road, blocking most of the drives. The smooth surface of Lakeshore Drive turned into a bumpy ride until he reached the second to last house on the cul de sac. His bike rumbled into the driveway. Dropping the kickstand, he killed the engine and remained seated as he peered at the immaculate brick two-story with a Federal style front and light gray painted rails. Four banana trees bookended the front and shaded the short, paved walk tucked behind the extended front and the garage.

Remy drew back his coat sleeve and checked his watch. She should be home. Carefully, he removed his sunglasses as he strode to the door, and punched the doorbell.

Seconds later, a woman's voice sounded. “Coming.”

He braced as the door opened.

Vic's long, dark brown hair was swept back in a ponytail, away from her pale heart-shaped face and pale hazel-gray eyes. She wore a green tank and black athletic shorts, beads of sweat lingering on her shoulders and chest. One finely plucked eyebrow rose. “Remy?” She gaped at him.

“
Bonjour
, Vic.”

Panic flared through her eyes, and her hand darted outside, latched on to his arm and yanked him into her home. Slamming the door shut, she pressed her back to it as her chest rose and fell in rapid succession. “What the hell were you thinking, coming back here?”

“I've got legit reasons for coming back.” His gaze darted around the vaulted ceiling, along the upstairs railing, to the chandelier dangling from the middle of the ceiling. “Nice place. I don't think I've ever been in here.”