Rogue Renegades (Rogue Trilogy) Read online

  Lying spread-eagled on the bed, Abby fought to get her breath back as Ryan briefly went into the bathroom and returned with a wet washer. He pressed it into her hand and she wiped his sperm off her fingers. She then used it to clean her nether regions. She wasn’t sure that she’d ever been this wet before, but knew for certain that that had been the best orgasm of her life.

  Ryan felt a fresh surge of desire when Abby used the washer on herself then stood and unselfconsciously walked to the bathroom as if she was used to walking around naked in front of a near stranger. She didn’t even glance at the body in the corner as she rinsed the washer out. She avoided his gaze when she returned and clothed herself. He had the distinct feeling that she was feeling ashamed that she’d asked him to pleasure her.

  Hiding her embarrassment from Ryan, Abby climbed into his bed and lay on her side as he showered. She’d begged him to take her and he’d still retained enough presence of mind to stick to his promise. He’d made her come, but he hadn’t penetrated her. If their circumstances had been different, she’d have been very interested in getting to know Ryan better. But their circumstances were very strange and they’d been thrown together by a twist of fate. It was highly doubtful that he was single. A man like that had to belong to someone. She didn’t kid herself that she’d fallen in love with him, she was simply powerfully attracted to him.

  They spent a sleepless night lying side by side, being careful not to touch and wishing that things could have been different between them.

  In the morning, Ryan got up early as usual and brought back enough food for three meals again. “Be ready to leave sometime after dark,” he whispered as she took the tray without meeting his eyes.

  Abby nodded in understanding and retreated to the bed. Withdrawing the knife from beneath the mattress, she put it in her purse and forced herself to eat some fruit. It was going to be a very long day and she just wanted it to be over so she could return to her usual stressful life of hiding from her former boss again.

  ₪₪₪

  Chapter Twelve

  Ryan performed his job on autopilot as they headed to yet another small village to bilk some tourists of their cash and belongings. No one was kidnapped this time, which he was very thankful for. One gorgeous captive was more than enough for him to handle.

  The day seemed to stretch on forever as they moved to the next village where another group of tourists awaited. Luring tourists into a trap was a fairly recent scam that he’d arranged with the tour guides. He could only pay off so many cops to look the other way. The thievery would eventually begin to hurt the tourist industry and the authorities would be forced to step in.

  As the sun began to wane, they headed back to the compound. Diego was due to arrive sometime after nightfall and everyone was eager to receive their promised bonus. In high spirits, the men in the back of the truck shared a bottle of whiskey. They were already planning on how they’d spend their extra money.

  As taciturn as ever, Ryan tried to run through every possible way to kill Diego Montoya. He’d originally planned on simply gunning the man down the moment he saw him. It was a suicidal notion, which hadn’t particularly bothered him before. Things had changed now and he didn’t just have himself to think of anymore.

  He’d promised Abby that he’d get her our safely and so he had to revise his plan. He now had to corner Montoya while he was alone. He’d have to kill him swiftly and silently then get the hell out of the compound with his captive in tow. If he died, Abby would be shared amongst the men. The thought of her being held down and violated by a gang of forty criminals filled him with revulsion. He couldn’t do anything to save the other women who were used on a daily basis, but Abby was his responsibility. He’d gotten her into this and he had to get her out.

  Well used to planning operations and directing a team of men, this time his mission would be a solo affair and he had no one to back him up. With someone else to look out for now, the stakes were far higher than they’d been in a long time.

  He pretended to drink more than usual and everyone left him alone, wary of his morose silence. Word had spread about Marcos’ attempted assassination and how easily Alejandro had evaded it and had gunned down five men without sustaining a single scratch. Despite his sullen silence, the other five leaders were celebrating the impending arrival of their boss.

  Speak of the devil, Ryan thought as he heard the sound of two cars pulling up outside. Diego didn’t travel anywhere without an armed entourage. A total of eight men accompanied him inside. Women scurried to prepare a hot meal and to hand out beer and tequila as the boss strolled into the makeshift meeting area.

  Casting his eye over the gathering, Diego hesitated for a second then smiled widely when his eyes came to rest on a new face. “You must be Alejandro. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

  Standing, Ryan was careful not to allow his hatred to show. “Diego. It is good to meet you at last.”

  “You’ve made me a lot of money,” Diego said as he stepped forward and offered his hand. His guards watched Alejandro carefully as he shook hands with their boss. “You also saved me the task of killing Marcos,” Diego added. “He was fond of skimming from my profits and I was growing tired of his thievery.”

  Forcing a smile, Ryan gritted his teeth and fought down the urge to smash his fist into the face of the man who’d had his wife murdered. He’d seen Montoya in the flesh two years ago when he’d almost managed to take him in. Ryan looked nothing like he had back then and Diego didn’t seem to recognize him at all. “I am glad I saved you the trouble,” Ryan lied and took his seat when the boss waved at him to relax.

  Pretending to drink the rest of his beer, he handed the nearly full bottle back to Carlotta and took a fresh one. Diego and his men sat on the hodgepodge of chairs and began drinking in earnest.

  Two hours later, most of the men were reeling and their eyes were bloodshot. Diego had given them their bonuses shortly after arriving. All of the banditos had lined up to receive their cut. Diego had handed over the cash like he was a god, lording his higher status over them. Unlike everyone else, he wore an expensive shirt and slacks. The shirt was open almost all the way to his waist, but sweat still dripped down his skin. His dark hair was slicked back with gel that made it seem perpetually wet.

  Ryan patiently bided his time as the lackeys were paid and Montoya and his men grew rowdier. He was waiting for the perfect opportunity to eliminate his target. When Diego stumbled to his feet, Ryan readied himself for action. The boss gestured for him to follow and he could hardly believe his luck when the boss waved for his goons to remain behind. “Walk with me, Alejandro. I want to get to know my most productive employee better.”

  If Ryan hadn’t been so eager to get this over and done with, he would have heard the slight sneer as Diego said his name. The pair walked out into the main hallway, which was mostly empty at this time of the night. Their only company was the two guards at the far end of the hall.

  “You have risen quickly through the ranks, my friend,” Diego said as they strolled slowly down the darkened corridor.

  Ryan’s senses became heightened as he prepared himself to act. He smelled sweat, cigarette smoke, greed and despair. Their shoes scuffed on the bare concrete, someone coughed from behind a closed door and a mattress squeaked as one of the men took his woman. “I had incentive,” he said with complete honestly.

  “Ah, yes. You wished to meet me in person. Why is that, I wonder? Am I so fascinating that you felt you had to murder over a dozen of my men just to be accepted into the group?”

  Now that the moment had come, Ryan’s throat closed up and he couldn’t voice a reply. His revenge was so close that he could taste it. His hand crept towards his gun but stilled when Diego spoke again.

  “I have to admire your persistence. It has taken you two years to track me down, but you finally did it.” Diego turned to face the man he’d recognized instantly despite his disguise of dark hair and eyes. “I never forget a face, Agent Sheldon.
”

  Standing only five feet apart, they watched each other for the space of a few heart beats, then both drew their weapons at the same time. Ryan’s training saved him and he spun away as the bullet chewed a groove in his right shoulder instead of going through his neck. His aim was better and Diego cursed as blood spurted from his left cheek. The drug lord wasn’t anywhere near as drunk as he was been pretending to be and he moved quickly for cover. He kicked a door open and darted inside, roaring for his guards.

  Hesitating between going in after Montoya or keeping his promise, Ryan swore bitterly in disappointment and ran down the hall.

  ₪₪₪

  Chapter Thirteen

  It was getting late when Abby heard two sets of footsteps approaching. Someone spoke quietly and her instincts had her moving to the door. She’d learned to recognize all of the guards and this was a new voice. She couldn’t hear what he was saying, but the tone towards the end sounded decidedly mocking.

  When gunfire sounded a few seconds later, she yanked open the door and peered down the hall. Ryan had left the door unlocked just in case they had to make a quick getaway. She saw him sprinting towards her and didn’t flinch when he lifted his gun. He shot both of the guards standing at the door and motioned for her to run.

  Holding onto her purse tightly, she ran for the door just as Ryan reached her. He shouldered it open and linked his arm through hers as he headed towards the nearest vehicle. It was an unspoken policy to leave the keys in the cars in the event that they were ever raided. Ryan leaped into the driver’s seat of a rusty old jeep and Abby dove in through the other door. He fired up the vehicle and put his foot down on the accelerator. Their wheels spun in the dirt and they took off as men appeared in the doorway and began to fire. Abby simultaneously ducked and pulled her elbows in close when a bullet pinged into the dashboard. It missed her arm by a fraction.

  Swerving to avoid being the barrage of bullets, Ryan slowed momentarily and shot the front tires of a truck that blocked most of the other cars. Diego stepped into view in the rearview mirror as Ryan sped off. His nemesis offered a sarcastic wave with one hand before he was lost from sight. The wave promised that they would meet again and that their encounter would be unpleasant.

  “I take it you didn’t get to finish your mission,” Abby said as she turned to face the front. She’d gotten a brief look at the man that had waved at them. He would have a scar from the bullet that had scored his left cheek.

  “No,” Ryan said curtly. “He was right there in front of me and I missed him.”

  “Looks like you didn’t miss him completely,” she murmured and noticed the hole in his T-shirt. She scooted closer and pulled his shirt away from his neck so she could judge how bad the wound was. It wasn’t bad at all, she was glad to see. Blood oozed sluggishly from the shallow graze.

  Ryan breathed in the scent of Abby’s hair as she examined his injury. Miranda would have hung out the window to vomit at the sight of blood, but Abby merely searched inside her purse and pulled out a handkerchief. She pressed it against his graze until it became firmly stuck to his wound. “That should stop the bleeding until we can find a first aid kit.”

  “You’re awfully calm about being shot at,” Ryan observed with a frown.

  “Maybe I’m in shock,” Abby said lightly as she looked back over her shoulder to check for pursuit. The jungle behind them remained dark and Ryan drove fast. It was highly unlikely that they would be overtaken.

  “Do you have your passport on you?” Ryan asked his far too calm passenger.

  “Yes.” Unlike her fellow tourists, she’d ignored the advice to leave her important documents behind at the hotel whenever she took a day trip. She might have walked away from her job, but her training was instilled in her forever. Abby would never leave herself vulnerable to being trapped in whatever country she was visiting. She’d only brought one passport with her on this trip, but had a collection of them back home. She wasn’t in trouble with the law in Brazil and she should be able to return to the US with minimal trouble. Abby had no desire to visit any more of the country. She’d had enough excitement for one week already.

  “I’ll need to get cleaned up then I’ll drive you to the airport and put you on the first plane back to the States,” Ryan said. He hid his crushing disappointment that he’d failed his mission. He’d had one shot at taking Montoya down and he’d never get that close to him again. Diego would surround himself with bodyguards from now on and he’d make it as difficult as possible for Ryan to even shoot him from a distance with a sniper rifle. He would have to regroup, wait for his quarry to become complacent and try again at a later date.

  It was almost dawn before they entered the outskirts of Rio and stopped in front of a dilapidated hotel. The clerk was half-asleep as they stepped up to the counter. He took their money and handed over a key to a room on the second floor.

  Ryan took the lead and headed up the stairs. They climbed in silence, alert for any sounds of pursuit. Unlocking their door, Ryan searched the small room. Apart from the tiny bathroom, there were few places to hide. The bed took up most of the room and it was too low to the ground for anyone to hide beneath. The closet was empty and a few roaches fled when he opened the door.

  Abby made no comment at the shabbiness and general squalor of the room when Ryan gestured for her to enter. The yellow paint was peeling from the walls and ceiling. The carpet was musty and had once been light gray. It was closer to black now and she wondered how long it had been since it had last been vacuumed. The linen looked clean enough, not that she’d be using the bed.

  Ryan handed the key to Abby after inspecting their room. She’d had no sleep and had been through hell, yet she still looked fresh and beautiful. “I’m going to find some medical supplies,” he said. “Make sure it’s me before you open the door.”

  Rolling her eyes at the unnecessary admonition, she pushed him towards the door. “Just hurry up and get back before infection sets in.”

  Ryan quietly retreated to the ground floor and stepped out onto the street. It took him nearly twenty minutes to find a store that was open and sold medical supplies. He didn’t even earn a twitch of curiosity from the man behind the counter when he handed over the small pile of medical supplies. In this part of town, knife wounds and bullet wounds were all too common.

  He headed back to the hotel and remained alert for Montoya’s men. Stopping down the street from the hotel, he looked up at the second floor. He spied Abby’s face briefly in the window before she stepped back out of sight. Increasingly intrigued by her, he knew he had no right to ask her any questions. He’d put her in danger when he’d kidnapped her and she’d been forced to kill a man to defend herself. He was lucky she hadn’t run for the police the moment his back had been turned.

  Pausing for a few moments, he searched for anyone watching the hotel with too much interest. No one seemed to be lurking nearby, so he crossed the street and climbed back up to the second floor. Abby opened the door at his light knock.

  Taking the supplies from Ryan, Abby motioned to the bed. “Take your shirt off and sit down.”

  Raising a brow at her preemptory tone, Ryan did as instructed. He took the shirt off and sat wearily. Adrenalin had kept him going for a while, but exhaustion was making itself known. He needed to sleep and now was the worst possible time to give into his weariness. He needed to get Abby to the airport and safely on a plane back home.

  Stepping into the bathroom, Abby soaked a washer then returned to Ryan. He looked tired and defeated. She had no idea why he’d wanted that man dead, but he was devastated that he’d failed to kill him. If she hadn’t vowed not to use her skills ever again, she’d have offered to help him hunt the man down. “Who is he?” she asked as she put the sopping wet washer on the handkerchief. It would be easier to remove when it was soaked.

  “His name is Diego Montoya,” Ryan said. There was no harm in telling her his name, since she’d soon be on a plane and heading far away from Brazil.
<
br />   “I take it he is the leader of the criminal underworld in Rio?”

  “You could say that,” Ryan said with a small smile, then winced slightly at the sting when Abby peeled off the handkerchief.

  Checking the wound, Abby was happy to see only a small trickle of blood welling up. The wet washer had helped to remove the handkerchief without causing too much damage. She was curious about why Ryan wanted Montoya dead, but sensed his reasons were far too private to share with a virtual stranger. Even one he’d brought to an intense orgasm more than once, not that he knew about the first two instances.

  Ryan was surprised when Abby didn’t badger him with questions. She accepted the little that he divulged without complaint. Her touch was delicate as she slathered antiseptic ointment on his wound. It didn’t need stitches, thankfully, and she placed a dressing over it then taped it in place. Clearly, she’d done this before.

  Abby tried hard not to stare at Ryan’s shoulders, chest and sculpted abs as she treated his wound. She wanted to push him onto his back and use her body to take away his misery, but she knew their time together was almost over.

  Ryan reached behind him and took something out of his back pocket. He handed the small blue box to her. “I thought you might like this as a memento of your trip to Brazil,” he said with a half-smile.

  “As if I’ll need any reminders,” she said almost beneath her breath. Opening the box, she stared down at the small yet exquisitely crafted pendant on a golden chain. The pendant was a lioness with blue-gray eyes that seemed to stare right at her. “It’s lovely,” she said with a puzzled frown. Why on earth would he give her a gift? She had the distinct feeling that she’d played a part in his failure to kill Montoya. She’d come between his instinct to get the job done and to protect someone that he thought was a helpless victim. If she’d told him who she really was, he’d have concentrated on eradicating his target rather than on keeping her safe.