Page 18 of Always Been Mine (Always #2)

Gabe pulled his SUV into the parking lot of a dive bar near the Cloverleaf District. It was late afternoon and the place was quiet, save for a couple of cars and motorcycles in the near deserted gravel parking lot.

Ashe and Duke were waiting for him, lounging languidly against their bikes. He stopped his vehicle beside them and exited. Rounding the front of the car, Gabe put on his sunglasses and walked up to them.

“You have anything for me?”

“Before we give you this information, Crane wants you and Porter to know that this is it. Marker is paid,” Ashe said.

“That’s not for me to decide.”

“Well, maybe it should be Porter meeting us,” Ashe shot back. “Our Prez is pissed because he can’t get ahold of your boss—”

“Porter is not my boss—”

“Well, why the fuck are we talking to you then?”

“Don’t waste my time,” Gabe replied coldly. “Either you give me the information or I walk.”

Duke, who had been quiet for the most part, stepped into Gabe’s space. The young blond biker was a bit shorter than Gabe, but they were mostly nose to nose.

“Listen, I don’t like you,” Duke said. “Ashe and I don’t trust you, but that lady friend of yours seems to trust you enough and we like her.”

Duke nodded to Ashe who held out the manila envelope. “If it was all Fuego, we would have gone deeper, but there seems to be some Russian involvement. We stay clear of them. We need to keep the peace.”

Russian . Gabe’s blood turned to ice. “Do you have names?”

“It goes all the way up to the Fuego gang leader who everyone knows is Domingo Ventura, but we don’t have the name of the Russian dude.”

“What kinda fucking intel is that?”

“You have his picture.” Ashe nodded at the envelope before getting on his bike. “We’re outta here.”

Duke swaggered back to his Harley and got on as well. “Later, man.”

Gabe returned to his vehicle and just sat there for a while.

Finally, he reached into the brown pouch and pulled out a set of photographs.

They were grainy, taken from a distance by a low-resolution camera, but the identity of the man in the picture could not be denied.

Along with the past returning to haunt him came a myriad of emotions.

The joy was short-lived, ephemeral in its manifestation because what followed was white hot rage.

It was Steve Ryker—his brother-in-arms who was supposed to have died in that plane crash.

He was the reason Gabe had given up his happiness with Beatrice to carry through the mission that supposedly should have been Ryker’s.

Why the fuck was he alive, and what the fuck was his role in all this bullshit, and why did the Skulls think he was Russian?

His phone buzzed.

“Sullivan. ”

“Gabe! It’s Doug,” Keller’s voice came over in such a rush, all his senses went on alert.

“Is Beatrice all right?”

“Those two asshole detectives from the MPD are harassing her again.”

“What? Why? I thought Stone’s case was closed.”

“It is, but Kelly Winters was found murdered this morning and her story depicting Beatrice in a negative light regarding her relationship with Eric Stone hit the tabloids today.”

“Damn it!” Gabe muttered.

“I’m in Richmond right now, and I can’t get to her for another two hours.”

“I got her, man.”

“Nate and Travis are not—”

“I got her,” Gabe repeated tersely. Beatrice was his responsibility, not fucking Nate Reece or Travis Blake’s.

Doug exhaled harshly. “Thanks, man.”

Gabe ended the call, started his car, and drove like crazy to get to his woman.

“Beatrice!” Gabe pounded on the door. It had taken him a damned half hour to get to her.

He didn’t know what he would do if he’d found those damned detectives in there.

He was feeling pretty homicidal right now.

He was going to demand she give him a duplicate keycard. She could protest all she wanted.

What Gabe didn’t expect was Porter opening the door. Beatrice was standing a few feet behind her father.

“Where the fuck have you been?” Gabe snarled at the admiral.

“Good afternoon to you too, Commander,” the admiral replied dryly. “I could ask you the same question. Weren’t you supposed to be watching over my daughter? ”

Beatrice gasped in outrage. Fucking great. Now she was thinking he was with her because her father had dictated it.

“I’ve been chasing a lead,” Gabe snapped and shoved the brown envelope to Porter. “Check that out and explain it to me. Oh, and Crane says his marker is paid up.”

He headed straight for Beatrice who had her arms crossed in front of her in annoyance. Daggers were shooting from her eyes.

“Hey, babe” Gabe kissed the top of her head. “What’s this I hear about the detectives paying another visit?”

“They don’t have a leg to stand on,” Porter said absently, a frown had creased his forehead as he returned the contents of the envelope back into it. “Circumstantial evidence is pointing to a Russian diplomat, and they’re frustrated because of diplomatic immunity.”

“Why a Russian diplomat?” Gabe asked, jaw clenching tensely.

“She did a story on the diplomat and his proclivities for high-class prostitutes. Crime scene photos were leaked on the internet.” Beatrice shuddered. “A Russian phrase was carved on her arms. Speculations on social media say it means an eye for an eye .”

Air deserted his lungs as a series of images hit Gabe.

An assassin from another rival Bratva was tied naked on a filthy bed.

He was taunting Dmitry to do his worst.

Dmitry obliged. Carving the words slowly on the man’s arms as he screamed in agony.

After he was done, Dmitry said, “Oko za oko.”

Afterward, he sliced the assassin’s neck from ear to ear.

Blood soaked the bed before it dripped to the floor .

“. . . ear to ear . . .” Beatrice’s voice came back to focus. “Gabe, you okay? You’re looking pale.”

No. He felt like throwing up. Beatrice was in danger because of him.

Porter gripped his arm firmly, addressing Beatrice, “Sweetheart, can we use your office for a minute?”

“What’s going on?” Beatrice glared at both of them. “I’m tired of being kept in the dark, and if your crap is coming back to hit me, I deserve answers, don’t you think?”

At that moment, Gabe couldn’t speak as he was faced with the possibility that he had to sacrifice the woman he loved again. His heart was screaming no . There had to be another way.

Porter dragged him into the study and shut the door.

“Get a grip, Commander,” Porter ordered.

Gabe laughed without humor. “Get a grip? Everything’s gone FUBAR. Ryker is after me and he’s hitting me where he knows it’s gonna hurt. Beatrice. He’s getting less subtle. I’m not discounting that he took the pictures after he killed the reporter and posted them online.”

“Are we certain now that Ryker was Crowe’s man inside Fuego?” Porter asked.

“They have to be connected. I worked closely with Crowe when I was an enforcer. He provided me intel on my targets. He knew my methods. He was probably relaying it back to Ryker.”

“There’s almost no question on that point,” Porter replied.

“Crowe was inserted into the Zorin Bratva before you were. I made a quick jaunt to Germany these past two days to follow up some leads with some human assets. It’s highly possible that Crowe tipped Ryker off about the hit on Zorin’s plane.

He could have made an offer to Ryker then to join his boss.

The reason why Crowe wanted Caitlin was because she almost discovered the identity of the mastermind when she’d been the hacker Sarah Blake.

Now that she’s almost at a hundred percent of her tradecraft, she’s becoming more of a threat. ”

“If someone is still after Caitlin, we need to bring Travis into the loop.”

Porter’s lips thinned.

“We are not using her as bait,” Gabe said. He was sick and tired of doing things for the greater good at the expense of people he cared about. Gabe scrubbed his face with his hand in frustration. “I’m trying to make sense of who Ryker is after. Me or you?”

“I have a theory,” the admiral said. “You’ve been in Grigori Zorin’s inner circle. You’ve been present in several of his meets with his associates. Whoever his contact was in the CIA fears that you could identify him and is siccing Ryker on you.”

“Why not kill me outright?”

“He wants me as well. I’m not always in plain sight. Taking you out is going to put me on alert, so he’s messing with us the way he knows will get our attention.”

“Beatrice.”

“Exactly.”

He locked stares with Porter. “Now is the time to tell me to stay away from your daughter.”

Porter sighed. “Will you?”

“Fuck no. Even if I stay away from her now, there’s no guarantee Ryker won’t go after her,” Gabe said. “This is where we’re different, Admiral. I can’t change my past, but I’m changing myself now to be the man she deserves. She deserves a man who will love and cherish her.”

“Or get her killed?”

“Fuck you,” Gabe snarled softly. “Fuck you.” He repeated even louder.

“All I ask, Gabriel, is give her a choice to walk away. She deserves to know what she’s signing up for.”

Porter handed him a phone. “This is an encrypted line. I’ve uncovered some troubling intel and may not be able to meet with you for a while, but I will keep you apprised of what you need to know.”

Gabe wondered how much the admiral knew and wasn’t telling him.

The admiral straightened his suit and walked to the door. “By the way, the tox screen report for Eric Stone came back from our labs.”

“And?” Gabe held his breath.

“It was Hybernabis. He was murdered.”

“. . . so, babe, that’s most of the story that you need to know.”