Page 36 of Always Been Mine (Always #2)

Gabe perused the document in front of him while he waited for the artist to finish the facial composite of the man Johnny saw with Ventura.

It was a long shot because the last time Johnny saw them was around a week after Ryker’s demise.

Dr. Ryan stepped out of the room, her eyes zeroing in on Gabe. She was not pleased.

“I gave you my number just in case Beatrice had issues, not to call me for your own problems,” the doctor said sternly.

“This guy may lead us to who abducted Beatrice,” Gabe replied.

“That’s what you told me on the phone and the only reason I came. Don’t make it a habit, Mr. Sullivan.”

“Can’t promise that, Doc,” Gabe grinned.

“Save that charming smile for Ms. Porter. It’s not working on me,” the doctor said dryly, but amusement twinkled in her eyes. “Here’s a prescription for antibiotics and pain meds.”

Just then, Travis and Nate walked into the office.

“Doc? What are you doing here?” Travis asked.

“Sullivan here had someone for me to patch up,” Dr. Ryan replied. “I gotta go. See you around, Travis. Give my regards to Cat. ”

After the doctor left, Travis turned to Gabe. “What’s going on?”

“Everything squared away with the senator?” Gabe asked.

“Yes,” Nate replied. He and Travis wore identical frowns as they regarded Johnny in the conference room.

“Are they keeping you on?”

“Nate’s out,” Travis said, “but I told the senator I’m a hundred percent behind what Nate did.” Travis paused. “Why am I telling you this? It’s none of your business.”

Gabe shrugged. “Beatrice is in a meeting with Zach Jamison right this moment. I was curious.”

“Are you telling us what’s going on?” Travis looked pointedly at Johnny. “Who the hell is that?”

“Sorry, I didn’t tell you Travis, Nate,” Em came up behind them. “Both of you were busy with Senator Mendoza, I didn’t want to interrupt.”

“Juan Rodriguez, otherwise known as Johnny,” Gabe said. “I had some intel about Ryker’s hideout in the Cloverleaf District.” The other two men stilled. “I found where he did his executions, which were really medical tests.”

“Damn,” Travis muttered. “Let’s go to my office.”

“Can’t. Need to keep an eye on Johnny.”

Travis looked at Em, who understood and returned to the reception area out of ear shot.

“Speak,” Travis prompted.

“These documents hold the technical information on the virus.” Gabe held up the stack of papers recovered from Ryker’s room.

“How is it different from what we already have? Porter said they’ve typed the genome.”

“Yes. But here”—Gabe held up the paper—“it states it’s inert when in powder form.

It’s transformed into a liquid evaporate by a careful ratio of the indicated compounds.

Ryker experimented on five test subjects.

It’s all there.” Gabe handed the paper to Travis, with Nate looking grimly over his friend’s shoulder.

“Everything from time of exposure to time of death.”

“Fuck me,” Nate whispered. “This is sounding too damn real.”

“Damn straight,” Gabe muttered. “I already left a message for Porter.”

Travis nodded. “Whatever covert group Porter is working with needs this data.” Though Gabe agreed, he wanted in on that mission, so he could personally gut whoever tortured Beatrice.

His anger was under control, but it would spike to a killing degree whenever he let his thoughts drift to the cuts on Beatrice’s arms.

“I’m done,” the sketch artist said, walking up to them. “Johnny agrees it’s not an exact likeness, but it’s the best he could remember.”

Gabe looked at the sketch and balked. He could feel the blood leave his face as a fear like he’d never felt before ratcheted up inside him. Travis cursed while Nate said, “Fuck! Tell me that’s not Zach Jamison.”

Zach Jamison is dirty. He was working with Ryker.

Beatrice read the message twice to make sure she hadn’t misunderstood.

“What’s wrong, Beatrice?” Zach whispered.

Her gaze lifted reluctantly to stare into dark soulless depths. The gears in her brain tried to make sense of who was clearly before her.

The person who tortured her.

The more you fight, the more it’s going to hurt.

“You,” Beatrice whispered.

Zach’s smile was nothing like his regular megawatt smile. This time, it was laced with malice. “So, the cat’s out of the bag. Pity.” His eyes shifted to a point over her shoulder. Ed Shephard had probably been alerted. Beatrice was frozen; she didn’t dare take her eyes off Zach.

A scuffle erupted behind her. There was screaming and seats scraping as the crowd panicked. She still didn’t dare look away.

“See, I’m not stupid to come here by myself.” Zach’s lips curved derisively.

“I’m not going anywhere with you.” Beatrice finally found her voice. Her phone kept buzzing. She couldn’t take her eyes off Zach. She just didn’t trust him. She couldn’t be taken again. It would destroy her. The thought of never feeling safe, not knowing who to trust, would destroy her.

“You won’t have to,” Zach sneered. “You’ll be dead.”

He lunged forward, a hand shooting out, but Beatrice, even in her terror, was ready for him.

She shoved her chair backward and managed to block a knife swipe aimed for her neck.

She stood up and saw Ed engaged in a hand-to-hand with Zach’s goon.

She faced off with Zach, who had indecision written all over his face as he stared beyond her again.

“I’ll see you around, pretty girl.” He backed away from her and disappeared into the back exit. It would be foolish to follow him. Beatrice stood unmoving.

Ed suddenly appeared by her side. “Jesus, you’re bleeding.”

She was cut? Before she could reach up to touch the right side of her face, Ed had her chin tilted at an angle.

“It’s a shallow cut,” Ed observed. “But fuck me, Sullivan’s going to go ape-shit.”

She had no doubt. Remembering her phone, she saw additional text messages from Gabe.

Talk to me.

Damn it. Tell me you’re okay.

And then.

Babe, please be okay.

Beatrice called him .

“Beatrice? Christ, babe, are you okay?” Gabe growled into the phone.

“I’m fine. Oh, God. Oh, God, Gabe, I can’t believe it’s Zach.

” She half-sobbed into the phone, collapsing into a chair as the adrenalin withdrew from her body.

It was as if a ghost had walked over her grave, and she felt chilled all over.

Her life had once again flashed in front of her.

It was only through her endless sparring exercises and continued training that saved her from having her carotid artery slashed.

“Ed’s with you?” Ed was on the phone, probably with Travis or Nate. Zach’s goon also disappeared.

“Yes, he is,” Beatrice said. Protection of your principal was always a priority, not chasing after an assailant. It was a primary rule of executive protection.

“I’m on my way,” Gabe said, his voice now guttural. “God, Beatrice, I love you.”

“I love you, Gabe.” She felt cold, so cold. “I need you,” she added on a whisper.

“I’ll be there soon.”

“Can’t you go any damn faster?”

“I’m going as fast as I can, man,” Travis muttered as he wove his Escalade around DC traffic. “It’s rush hour and they’re in Georgetown.”

A skin peel with muriatic acid was probably less torturous than what Gabe was experiencing right now. He had calmed down a bit after he’d talk to Beatrice, but the sucker punch of discovering that Zach Jamison had been deceiving them all this time caused him to almost lose his shit at BSI.

He was ready to charge out the door when Travis and Nate pounced on him to calm him down.

He nearly punched Travis, but the other man assured him there was no one more capable than Ed Shephard and he’d been alerted.

It did little to assuage Gabe’s panic, especially when Beatrice didn’t reply to his text message warning.

But he agreed to let Travis drive while he’d been imagining several ways to deliver a slow painful death to Jamison.

Finally, he had someone to direct his rage. A focus.

Parking in Georgetown was terrible. Gabe was doubly thankful now that Travis was driving. It wasn’t difficult to find the coffee shop; there was already a police cruiser double-parked in front of it.

“I’ll need to drop you off here and find parking,” Travis said as he approached the intersection a block before the establishment.

“Thanks, man.” Gabe exited the Escalade and broke into a sprint. There were some curious onlookers at the entrance. He shouldered past them and yanked the door open. He spotted Beatrice talking to a uniform.

Their eyes met across the room, her luminous green ones flooding with relief, probably mirroring his own. His relief quickly turned to outrage when he noticed the cut right under her right jaw.

Beatrice abandoned the police officer and walked briskly toward him. He opened his arms and quickly engulfed her in a crushing embrace. If given a choice, she would never leave his arms.

“Babe, you scared the shit out of me,” Gabe murmured into her hair.

“I’m sorry. You’re right again,” she mumbled, pulling away to look up at him. “I shouldn’t have left the office.”

Gabe exhaled deeply. “Yeah. But it’s done. Next time listen to your security, okay?”

“I know. I keep on preaching it, but I had Ed with me, so I felt safe enough.”

“You didn’t know Jamison was dirty.” He hugged her tightly to him again before he asked as calmly as he could muster, “What happened to your neck? ”

Beatrice stiffened in his arms.

“Babe?”

“He tried to cut me.”

Gabe closed his eyes at the thought; the close call was killing him.

“Ouch, Gabe. Ease up. You’re squeezing the air out of me.”

“How . . . you blocked it?”

“Yes.”

“That’s my girl.”

“Um, excuse me, Ms. Porter, but I need more information from you.” A police officer was standing beside them, assessing Gabe warily.