Hell on Wheels (Black Knights Inc. #1)(89)

“Yes,” Ghost whispered, his voice a terrible parody of its usually smooth timbre.

Ali choked, then immediately leaned over and puked all over the Oval Office’s fancy antique rug.





Chapter Nineteen


Holy hell.

As if Ali hadn’t already humiliated herself enough over the past couple of days, now she’d gone and done the unthinkable.

Was it against the law to vomit in the Oval Office?

Sure, it was probably okay for the president. Even the leader of the free world had to succumb to an occasional stomach bug, but for a civilian to blow chunks?

She peeked at the pair of solid doors through which the Secret Service agents had just manhandled the screaming senator and waited for them to burst back inside, handcuff her, and throw her into Gitmo for defacing private property or…or dispersing biohazardous material in a government building or whatever.

But no.

No severe looking men in black came to haul her away.

Thank goodness. She wasn’t prison material. Plus, you know, the whole eight-by-ten issue.

She blew out a hard breath and glanced once more in Nate’s direction, but he was gone. She rubbed a shaking hand over her trembling lips, swallowing the bitter-tasting bile that stuck to her tonsils.

“Nate?” She turned to Frank. “Where did he—”

“It’s best if you let Ghost have a few minutes,” he advised gravely.

Choking on tears, she could do nothing but nod.

A few minutes.

She could give him that.

And when he came back, she’d tell him how she couldn’t begin to imagine the unfathomable strength it must’ve taken to mercifully end her brother’s life. And it must have been mercy. There was just no other explanation.

She’d tell him how she couldn’t begin to fathom a world without him. How the thought of going back to her staid, boring old life after what’d happened, after what’d passed between them made her want to curl up and die.

She’d tell him the one thing that mattered most. She’d tell him she loved him…

But the seconds stretched to minutes and the minutes stretched to an hour as the men around her discussed the fate of Senator Aldus.

When Frank finally turned to her, the look on his face told her everything she needed to know.

Nate wasn’t coming back.

***

Black Knights Inc. Headquarters

Six weeks later…

“Taking a vacation?” Frank grumbled from the open doorway.

Becky glanced up and quickly back down to the suitcase she was in the process of zipping.

“Yes,” she said, spinning the numbers on the lock before setting the bag on the floor and popping up the telescoping handle.

“Had you planned on telling me, your boss, anytime soon?”

“Just as soon as I made it down the stairs, Boss,” she said, pushing past Frank and heading down those aforementioned stairs. She could hear his big boots pounding down the metal treads behind her. Each percussive step matched the heavy beat of her weary heart.

She hadn’t wanted to do it like this. She’d hoped to have a few precious minutes to come up with a little departure speech, something breezy and urbane, but he’d caught her before she had anything prepared.

Wouldn’t it figure?

He always seemed one step ahead of her. Possessing some sixth sense when it came to a disturbance inside the realm of his finely tuned little world.

And it was that little world she had to eighty-six herself from immediately or she was going to go nucking futs—as Ozzie liked to put it.

“For how long?” he asked, still dogging her heels as she made her way down the long corridor toward the front door.

“A month,” she replied, fighting the sudden urge to burst into tears. She’d been doing that a lot since Patti’s death. Every time she walked by the little brick house on the north end of the Black Knights’ property—the one Dan and Patti had shared. Every time she witnessed the miserable shell of a man that Dan had become. Every time she saw Ghost staring down at his hands as if they were the most obscene instruments he’d ever seen. Every time her big brother cast her a worried look and asked if she was okay. The answer she always gave was yes, but everyone really knew it was a resounding, unspoken hell no. And certainly, every time Frank took another one of his mysterious trips to Lincoln Park—

Yepper. Those had certainly increased over the past six weeks.

And it didn’t take a Fulbright Scholar to figure out that he was going up there to get a little comfort.

Heck, they all needed comforting after what happened. So she couldn’t really blame him for seeking solace in some woman’s arms, but then again, she did. Because it tore her up inside to think of it.

Nucking futs, indeed.

“A month,” he barked incredulously. “You can’t just leave us for a whole goddamned month. We’ve got two theme bikes on order. The first is supposed to be finished in three weeks.”

“Ozzie can come up with the designs. He’s got a good eye, and I’ve been working with him on the CAD. As for the fabrication, Dan can handle it. All he does is work and drink himself stupid anyway. It helps keep his mind off…” she swallowed, “you know.”

When she went to open the front door, he stopped her with a heavy hand on her shoulder. She took a deep breath before she turned to face him.