She might have been alive, but she’d spent several hours unconscious and who knew what they’d drugged her with?
“Seems okay. She sounds properly awake now, anyway. The doctor’ll check her out when we get back to Riverley.”
Turned out they’d gotten a new doctor during Alaric’s time away. Before, Black used to bribe some guy from the emergency room at Richmond General whenever Blackwood needed a hand with discreet medical care. His replacement was a thirty-something brunette, and judging by the looks Evan gave her, he wanted to volunteer for a check-up instead of Emmy.
“What happened to Dr. Beech?” Alaric asked Dan.
“Oh, he’s still around. He heads up the ER now. We use him if anything big comes up, but we brought Kira on board to help lighten the load.”
When Emmy turned to walk into the living room—or rather, one of the living rooms—Alaric saw the telltale burns from a stun gun. Two small dots on the back of her neck. She’d have heard Ridley’s men approaching, and yet she’d acted oblivious and allowed them to incapacitate her. Alaric couldn’t decide whether she’d been incredibly brave or monumentally stupid in following Black’s plan, and it was Black’s plan. There was no doubt in Alaric’s mind whose idea today’s adventure had been. That stun gun could have been a silenced .22. A double-tap to the head, that’s all it would have taken, and Black’s next job would have been picking out a casket.
Which was precisely what Alaric said when he found himself alone in the kitchen with Black a half hour later. Nobody else would stand up to the man, and he needed to be told a few home truths.
“Could you pass me a glass?” Black asked. “A tumbler’s fine.”
“Emmy could have died today, you asshole.”
“Is that a no?”
Alaric’s hands balled into fists at his sides. If he’d have opened the kitchen cabinet, Black would have got his damn glass squarely in the temple.
“If you want to risk someone’s life, make it your own.”
“Emmy’s life wasn’t at risk.”
“You couldn’t be sure about that.”
“Not with absolute certainty, but close to it.” Black reached past Alaric and opened the cabinet. “I’d drink out of the carton, but Emmy would kill me.”
Alaric marched to the fridge and grabbed the orange juice. “Here, go right ahead.”
Black just barked out a laugh, took the juice, and poured himself a glassful.
“I spent a year serving under Ridley. A year working out what made the sadistic bastard tick, what made him mad, and what I could get away with. The main things I discovered? He let his ego get the better of him. Palm his ID card, and he’d search the whole barracks because he was too proud to admit he’d screwed up and lost it. And he was as vindictive as he was predictable. Play a prank, and he’d make everyone pay. We did so many damn push-ups it was a miracle the ship sailed anywhere.” Black flexed the biceps of one arm. Was that meant to intimidate? “Guess I should thank him now.”
“You played the pranks?”
“We took it in turns. The enlisteds thought of it as a sport.”
“I didn’t think you had a sense of humour. And your past doesn’t excuse what you did today.”
Black put down the juice and ticked off the points on his fingers.
“I was certain he’d snatch Emmy. It was the obvious move, and we deliberately left her wide open. And I knew he wouldn’t kill her, not right away in cold blood. He needed her as leverage. As a distraction. Remember, he knew me too, and he was well aware that if he harmed her, I’d hunt him down and gut him like a pig.”
“But he did try to kill her.”
“Only with provocation.” Black shook his head and tutted. “Ridley never could control his temper. And I’ll admit, that reaction was the part I was fifty-fifty on. I thought maybe he’d take the hood off before he pulled the trigger. But the rest…perfectly foreseeable.”
“How? You didn’t know he’d even put a hood on Emmy. Or that his men would stop for gas.”
“Beg to differ. When we had to transport POWs in the Navy, Ridley insisted on hooding them every single time because he was a sadistic motherfucker who’d never pass up a chance to breach the Geneva Conventions. He said war shouldn’t have rules. And that’s what he considered Kyla’s campaign—a battle. So it stood to reason that he’d hood Emmy. Don’t look at me like that—you know damn well she trains for these eventualities.”
Yes, Alaric did know. He’d accidentally witnessed a session of theirs once, the torture of the woman Black claimed to love.
“That doesn’t make it right.”
“Merely necessary. And of course they were going to stop for gas—Ridley doesn’t have strong links to Kentucky, and the safest place to stash Emmy was out of state. Plus he wanted to get us all well away from the election circus. After we retrieved Emmy, it was just a case of pushing the right buttons. Ridley’s vain, and he values his reputation, even if he does his utmost to trash it. Once he saw the negative news coverage, he was always going to snap. I was the obvious culprit for the leak, and therefore he’d want to punish me by hurting the thing I hold dearest.”
“Emmy’s not a thing.”
“It was a turn of phrase. Anyhow, the job’s done now. You should stop living in the past.”
Oh, Alaric should, should he? Perhaps if the past hadn’t had such an impact on his life, he’d be able to move on. Speaking of which…
“Funny you should bring up the past, because you know what today’s escapade reminded me of? The stop I made at the gas station with Emerald. Strange how the cash and diamonds disappeared right around that time, wasn’t it?”
Black squared up to Alaric, arms folded. His tone remained mild, but his eyes were two glittering chips of granite.
“Are you accusing me of something?”
“I’m just saying the similarities were rather striking.”
“That’s because
