Burned Hearts (Burned 3)

A chill raced down my spine. “Nothing like one of your own turning on you.” What a fucking nightmare this had became. “I know Tom didn’t want to harm any of us. But what other option did he have? He can’t even be sure that the people he cares about are okay. This is just so bad and wrong, on more levels than I can even process.”

“I’m with you on all counts—including thinking that Horton might still be involved. Something has to be done about that douche.”

We stared at each other as we stood at the sink, fresh towels still in hand as we dried off.

I knew precisely what Kyle meant, what he silently implied. We’d had this discussion before—right here in this very spot, in fact.

We had a plan. It’d been formulated after Kyle had learned Amano had been tracking Wayne’s activity to ascertain the extent of his involvement with Vale’s kidnapping plot last year. Amano had kept tabs on Wayne’s comings and goings. Kyle and I both knew the results, knew Wayne’s patterns.

“It’s not exactly far-fetched to ‘bump’ into him here in town,” Kyle reminded me, “since Horton has been sticking pretty close so that he could move in on us whenever Vale snapped his fingers. We know his favorite places to hang. Cliff Castle Casino being one of them.”

“Dane would go through the roof that we’re even talking about this,” I warned. Not that I changed the subject. “Trying to get a confession out of Wayne would put me in more danger. Dane’ll throttle you if anything goes wrong. Amano, too, if there’s anything left of you.” I rolled my eyes. “Dane would strangle you just for strategizing with me.”

“Goddamn it, Ari,” Kyle said under his breath. Although no one else was in the room, neither of us would be shocked if Amano lingered close enough to pick up on any scheme we might concoct to help with the investigations and do whatever we could to put an end to the reign of terror.

How could we not want to do whatever possible to help neutralize this situation?

Kyle continued. “As stealthy as Dark Knight is, Dane can’t be in five places at once. There’s still so much he has to do—he can’t even get to the hard drive he needs that’s sitting in a safe-deposit box in Switzerland, because he’s supposed to be dead.”

“That cover’s pretty much shot to shit now.” I cringed at my crappy choice of words as much as at how I feared the society might now know he was alive. With a shake of my head, I said, “We have to stick to whatever plan Dane and Amano devise, or we could throw everything out of whack.”

I believed that was the only reason Amano hadn’t followed through on his threat to shoot Tom in the head. The reason Dane hadn’t taken matters into his own hands when he’d had the chance—and the justification—to leave Tom Talbot a bloody mess on our kitchen floor.

Kyle kept at our confession-reaping scheme. “Even Dane conceded our idea was reasonable when he’d heard of it.”

Amano had not only put a stop to our plotting but also shared our tactic with Dane for good measure—knowing he would lay down the law that left no room for interpretation. We weren’t to make any aggressive moves. Just follow his and Amano’s lead.

He’d be pissed to high hell that we revisited this subject. Yet I was pissed, too. Had every right to be. And I wanted to do something about it.

Still, I hedged as I thought of Dane with a hole in his shoulder. It brought back too many excruciating and insidious memories of when I’d believed him dead—and when I’d seen him for the first time after months of suffering under that belief. He’d been severely injured and had the scars to prove it. I couldn’t go through that again.

Bringing home the salient point that if anything went wrong on mine and Kyle’s end it’d devastate Dane.

So I said, “I’m not stressing him out further, Kyle. My God. He took a bullet for me today. So did you.” I gave him a contrite look. “I would try to send you away one more time, but now I’m thinking it’s better you stay close. You might be a sitting duck all on your own.” I tossed the towel aside and let out a sharp, humorless laugh. “You’re a sitting duck by staying with us.” This nearly shredded me. “Christ, Kyle. You could have been killed today.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time I was on the ragged edge.”

“Don’t act like this is some cool Vin Diesel movie,” I snapped, my nerves—and my concern for Kyle’s well-being—getting the best of me. “That day on the switchbacks was seriously hazardous to our health. This was even worse.”

“Ari.” He gave me an unfaltering look. “You’re wigging, and I understand why. I get it, okay? This was yet another full-on game of chicken that, fortunately, we once again won.” He gripped my shoulders and said, “Splash some cold water on your face and try to calm down. Then go see Dane. Just … not like this. Shit, you’re all ghostly and traumatized.”

“Everything was going so well, working out the way it should. All this time and effort Dane has put into helping the FBI yielded results. And then, bam! Wayne Horton strikes back? Or Bryn Hilliard? That menace to the human race should be sweating bullets over his criminal indictment, not devising ways to send one through my skull.”

Kyle actually blanched. Not exactly a familiar expression for my steadfast friend. The flash of white against his tanned skin was a bit unnerving. “You can’t imagine what it was like to see th

at infrared dot on your forehead.” He had to glance away and drag a hand down his face. It took several seconds for his gaze to return. “Ari, it scared the shit out of me.”

“I was scared, too. For all of us.”

“Damn it!” His torment ate at me. “I know there’s no fucking point to venting, no sanity wrapped around it, but, Christ. Everything that’s happened so far has been complete bullshit and I’m mad as hell. What we just went through—”

He whirled around. Stalked away. Then he pulled up short at the kitchen table where the trail of blood from the island had led to the chairs and pooled at the legs. All cleaned up now, but the memory didn’t fade. My stomach roiled and more fat drops welled in my eyes.

Kyle spun back to face me. “I can’t leave, even though I know I should. What purpose is there to staying? Sure, maybe I can protect you, too. Then again, maybe not. I’m not two steps ahead of everything the way Dane and Amano are. I’m reacting as the shit hits the fan, not before it’s even been flung.”

“Don’t gross me out,” I complained. “All that blood made me queasy as it is.”

He closed the gap between us. Kyle stared into my eyes, the way he had the night before, when I was all worked up over the diamondbacks. Only this time there was more than his perpetually tortured soul reflected in his blue irises.