Thrill Ride (Black Knights Inc. #4)(59)
Merde. He couldn’t think that way. These men had had his back for years, and he trusted each of them implicitly. Still, that didn’t stop the breath from shuddering out of him as Boss opened the door and shouted, “He’s coming out! Hold your fire! He’s unarmed and coming out! Do I have your word you will hold your fire?”
A long, interminable second passed, then that deep voice that’d been issuing commands and yelling threats for the last forty-five minutes sounded over the loudspeaker mounted to the top of the van.
The van that was now parked across the street. The same one the women were huddled in front of, being held at gunpoint—and, oui, that particular situation completely coddled his balls. “This is Special Agent Patrick Wilhelm! And you have my word, Mr. Knight, that as long as there’s no funny business, we will hold our fire!”
Boss turned to Rock then, and the expression on the man’s face was enough to have Rock shaking his head and grinning. “Don’t worry, mon ami. We’re the Black Knights.” And harking back to their days with the SEALs, he added, “Hoo-ah?”
“Hoo-ah, Rock!” Those Knights gathered around him barked in unison before he threw the door open and stepped over the threshold.
The first thing to hit him was the pungent smell of aviation fuel. The choppers overhead were perfuming the jungle and neighborhood beneath them. The second thing to hit him was the setting sun. It was a bright, orange ball, glowing low along the horizon, and he blinked against its molten brilliance. It was beautiful, perhaps the last sunset he’d ever see…And too soon, a sound to his left diverted his attention. The people from the house next door were standing out on the road, watching the unfolding drama with wide, worried eyes.
Of course, that was nothing compared to Vanessa’s expression.
When his gaze zeroed in on her, held securely between Eve and Becky, he felt like keeling over then and there. Before his cue. Because the woman was bawling her pretty eyes out, pulling against the two women and shouting over and over again, “Rock, I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry!”
“It’s okay, chere,” he whispered, knowing she couldn’t hear him. “It’s gonna be okay.” Then he closed his eyes and waited for his end…
Chapter Sixteen
What happened to the plan? Vanessa thought frantically.
Steady was supposed to have a plan! But this wasn’t a plan. This was Rock giving himself up in order to save all of them, which wasn’t a plan!
“He can’t do this,” she sobbed, noting that now instead of her holding Becky back from rushing into the house to be with Boss, both Becky and Eve were having to hold her back from sprinting to Rock. “There has to be another way. There has to—”
“Stop it, Vanessa!” Becky barked in her ear, wrestling her back toward the van’s bumper like a pint-sized bar brawler. “If you go flying up to him like some sort of wild banshee, the CIA just might kill both of you. Use your friggin’ head, woman!”
And, yes, Becky was right. She wasn’t using her head; she was listening to her heart. And she’d already done enough of that today, hadn’t she? Because it was her heart that’d insisted she bring Rock back here…
Gulping down the hard knot of fear and remorse that’d been steadily growing in her throat ever since Bill and Steady tackled him off that dirt bike, she forced herself to stop struggling. But, it was obvious both Becky and Eve didn’t trust her as far as they could throw her, because each woman kept a restraining hand on her arm.
She didn’t care. Nothing mattered right now except the man who was standing on that threshold, looking so brave and honorable as he sacrificed himself for all of them.
She wanted to yell at him to come down from that cross he’d climbed up on, but she knew it’d do no good. Once Rock made a decision about something, it was nearly impossible to change his mind. And he’d obviously decided, along with the rest of the Knights—and you better believe she was going to rip every single one of them a new * for agreeing to this—that giving himself over to the CIA was the only solution. The only way out. For them. Not for him.
Jesus, what did I do by bringing him back here?
Doomed him, that little bastard of a voice answered.
She closed her eyes, hoping beyond hope that when she opened them again she’d discover it had all been a dream. A very, very bad dream…But, no. No such luck. Because when she took a deep breath and blinked against the brightness of the sun glinting off the whitewashed stucco house, he was still standing there. Still looking so brave and honorable and…and so goddamned sacrificial.
She could not believe she’d done this to him, brought him this point of no return, of no more options except to give himself up. She’d destroyed him and any chance he had of clearing his name by trying to save him. And she’d never, never as long as she lived, be able to forgive herself. She’d just made the biggest mistake of her life, and what made it all the more terrible was the fact that the biggest mistake of her life might very well result in the end of his life.
The world around her dissolved into nothing but a blur as she allowed her eyes to linger on his wonderfully plain and, at the same time, wonderfully beautiful face.
He was pale. Even at a distance, she could see that. His dark goatee stood out in harsh contrast to the skin of his face. And the clean bandage he’d applied over the wound on his neck was almost indiscernible against his pallor.