Perfect Rage (Unyielding 3)

My stomach twisted and my body shook as I stared into the darkness of the alley. I heard the rumble of his bike, but soon it faded and then… nothing.

Emotions were like a tornado whirling with no clear destination or end, but precise in its destruction.

Shock.

Pain.

And fear, not for me, but for him.

Oh, God, Connor. What has he done to you?

But I knew what he’d done. The mind games were Carlos’s favorite because that was how he broke you. Except he’d been unable to break Connor.

He couldn’t break him through games or torture, so he did much worse. He killed who he’d been with the drug.

Because of me… Connor was like this because of me. My photographs. The pictures I’d taken of Connor and me in Afghanistan, Moreno had found them.

The drug made him into a cold, harsh, emotionless man I didn’t recognize, but this was worse. Because Connor now had to come to terms with what he’d done and his values were strong. They were what defined Connor. Protect those he loved. Protect his country. Protect children. Help others and live in the now. With his memories returning, he had realized he’d crushed every moral and value he had as a man while under the influence of the drug.

Oh, God, Connor.

I couldn’t breathe.

I couldn’t breathe.

I stumbled back into the brick wall, arms wrapped around my abdomen as I inhaled abrupt breaths.

I wasn’t this person. This weak, vulnerable girl who felt as if she were breaking apart into thousands of delicate, flimsy pieces. But seeing Connor… the hurt on his face layered with rage, it destroyed me all over again.

The door opened and I tensed, not wanting anyone to see me like this. I was good at hiding the pain, but this… this… the emotions grabbed hold and took control.

Kai emerged then London, who immediately approached me and placed her hand lightly on my arm. “Breathe. Slow and deep.”

I closed my eyes, inhaling the cool, night air into my lungs and choking back the sobs. Where was my armor, my strength? It was as if Connor punched his fist right through it and tore it from my body and left me raw and bleeding.

But he was the one raw and bleeding. Hurt. On edge. I saw the unsettled darkness in his eyes. No, I felt it.

London’s hand rubbed up and down soothingly. “Shhh, it’s okay. No one will hurt you.”

I wasn’t upset about the possibility of Connor hurting me. I was upset because he hurt. He would never forgive himself.

“Kai and I will take you home.”

I shook my head. “I just need a minute.”

“Yeah, we’re in the back alley,” Kai said into his cell. “He was here... need eyes on her house tonight.” He lowered his phone, put it in his back pocket and looked at me. “What did Connor want?”

I wiped the tears from my face with the back of my sleeve and sniffed. “I… I….” I didn’t know what to say. To tell me I shouldn’t have risked being with him in Colombia? To ask me why I slept with him? To tell me he didn’t know who he was anymore? “Nothing.”

“He shows up in a bar filled with people he wants to think he’s dead? Why? He wants something. And he wants that something from you.”

Despite living among dangerous men my entire life, Kai was scarier, and I think it was because he had confidence without a weapon in his hand. Most of the men I’d been around were confident, but that was because they held a gun; without one, they were just pathetic assholes.

Besides, many of them pissed themselves when they fucked up and stood in front of Carlos. I couldn’t imagine Kai trembling in fear even if some kingpin like Carlos had a gun to his head and a knife to his throat.

Neither would Connor.

“Kai,” London said softly. “Not now.”

His brows lifted slightly, but he didn’t say anything.

The door swung open.

“Ernie,” Kai said. “Close the door. We don’t need Deck and Georgie hearing about this. Not tonight.”

Ernie’s eyes shifted to me, taking in my tears, then they went back to Kai before he nodded and closed the door behind him.

As soon as it clicked, Ernie said, “Matt saw it go down.” His words were directed at Kai, but then he turned his attention to me and his voice softened. “You okay?”

No. “Yeah. It’s fine. I’m fine.”

Ernie was in his forties and he was Kai’s man. He was a good guy. I knew that the second Deck introduced me to him on our way to Toronto from Colombia. His smile was genuine. No cruelty hid beneath the surface like Carlos or his right-hand man Diego. I’d liked him immediately.

But right now, there was no smile. “You don’t look fine,” Ernie said.

I remained quiet because if I spoke, the tears would start again and I’d be a quivering mess, but thankfully Kai spoke for me. “She needs to go home.”