Two Evils (8 page)

Tears stung the backs of her eyes and she fought to control them. Teddy put a hand on her shoulder and rubbed it gently. “Doesn’t matter, sis, you’re home now. That’s the important thing.”

Billie cast Teddy a grateful smile, and for the next hour or so her brothers and her father caught her up on what they had been up to in her absence. Teddy was on his third or fourth girlfriend of the year (“Fire bunnies are so fun to play with!”), Kevin had recently been promoted at the construction firm he worked for to project manager, and Andy had gotten engaged two months prior to a woman he’d met shortly after her departure. He joked that the one good thing to come out of her being gone for a year was that she hadn’t been around to scare Michelle away.

“I’m home now, remember? I can still do that if you’re getting cold feet,” she returned.

“Don’t you dare!” her brother said with a laugh. “Shelly’s a great girl, sis. I think you’ll like her, once you get to know her.”

“She’d better be, if she expects to marry into this crazy family,” Billie had replied.

Thomas informed her that he had also met someone. This was a surprise to not only Billie, but her brothers as well. He had dated only sporadically since their mother Nadine had died from a rare blood disorder ten years before, but the look on his face and the sudden nervousness evident in his posture told them that this new woman was someone he was developing deep feelings for. It was still very new, he told them, but he genuinely liked her and enjoyed her company a great deal.

Billie was very pleased for him and Andy, though she could not help the pain that seized her chest, making it difficult to breathe. They were so very happy with the women in their lives, and it reminded her fondly, yet painfully, of how happy she had been with Travis just a year ago. Sometimes she wondered if there would ever be a time she could listen to others talk of being in love and not feel like an elephant had taken up residence on her chest.

Teddy—God bless him, her very best friend—seemed to sense her distress and deftly changed the subject. Soon after, her brothers all rose to depart. Andy had invited himself to stay with Kevin across town instead of with their father as she was going to do. Billie knew that it was because he, too, could tell she was beginning to feel overwhelmed, and was being kind enough to give her some space. She smiled gratefully up at him before hugging him goodbye. She then embraced Teddy and Kevin and the three of them went out the door.

As she was closing the door behind them, she heard her father picking up beer bottles in the living room. Billie went in to help, though her father told her it wasn’t necessary.

“No, Dad, let me. In fact, why don’t you go on to bed? It’s almost midnight, and surely you have to work tomorrow. I’ll take care of this,” she said.

“Billie, you just came home. I’m not going to make you clean house your first night back,” her father countered, even while clearly doing his best to contain a yawn.

She grinned knowingly. “Dad, it’s okay. I don’t mind earning my room and board. Besides, I got used to it tending bar and waiting tables down in St. Thomas.”

Thomas put a hand on her shoulder. “Now you know that no matter where you live, this house is always home,” he told her. “You are always welcome here, no matter what.”

Billie nodded past the lump in her throat. It was the real reason why she had chosen to come here instead of going to a hotel—because this was home.

Her father then relented and, after giving her yet another tight hug, headed for the stairs. Billie watched him go, then turned and began the task of picking up the dozen or so beer bottles her father and brothers had gone through—from the number of empties sitting on the coffee table and side tables, they’d started before she’d even arrived. As she carried the first batch to the kitchen to throw them away, it occurred to her for the first time that, subconsciously, at least, she might have chosen St. Thomas of all the places in the world she could go because the island and her father shared the same name, making it a connection to home. The thought made her smile.

After dumping the bottles in the trash can, she returned to the living room for more. As she was picking up the last one, a noise from the back of the house caught her attention. It was a faint, almost imperceptible click, something the average person might not have heard amidst the clinking of the glass. But she’d been trained to pick up those kinds of subtle sounds, and so she casually jiggled the bottles a little as she made her way toward her duffel bag, where her guns were. Kneeling slowly, she reached one-handed for the zipper, pulling it just enough to get her hand inside the bag. There were three guns in there—the Sig and two Glocks—but she only needed one.

Because it was the only one loose, the Glocks being contained in the double holster, Billie’s hand found the Sig right on top of her clothes, and she released it from its holster. As her fingers closed around the grip, she flicked the safety off with her thumb, then turned and carefully set the bunch of bottles down on the couch where Teddy’s ass had been planted not half an hour ago. Then she stood, holding the gun at low ready as she cautiously made her way toward the kitchen.

On the way, she heard another noise, slightly louder than the first. It sounded as if someone was trying to get in the house through the back door, and she’d be damned if she’d allow anyone to threaten her sanctuary when she’d just returned to it. Her arms immediately swung up to hold her weapon at the ready, straight out in front
of her and aimed to fire. She moved stealthily, her footfalls silent on the soft Berber carpeting.

When she moved at last from carpet to tile and stepped through the archway into the kitchen, what she found there was the last thing—or rather, the last person—she would have expected.

“Gabe? Is that you?” she queried softly, the Sig dropping slightly.

The man standing in her father’s kitchen started, his eyes widening reflexively before he relaxed, releasing a breath at the sight of her. “Thank fuck it really is you,” he said, taking a step closer. “I had to come in to be sure.”

Knowing that he’d agreed to take experimental drugs the effects of which she could so far only speculate about, she thought of what John had told her about Eddie and raised the gun up again.

“Stand down, Marine,” she said firmly, her arms steady and her eyes never leaving his face.

Gabriel Lincoln stopped. “Billie, come on—it’s me. It’s Gabe,” he said, gesturing to himself as he spoke.

“You sure about that?” she retorted. “From what I heard, some guys I know agreed to take part in a so-called top secret training program that included taking experimental drugs. If remember correctly, the Gabe I served with swore he’d never do anything that stupid.”

Gabe took a breath. “Yeah, it was stupid. A mistake I’ll regret for the rest of my life. Look, can I come in?”

“Would seem you bypassed being invited already by breaking in,” Billie pointed out.

He turned and pointed at the back door. “If it makes you feel better, I’ll go back outside and knock. But at this point that would be pretty ridiculous, don’t you think?”

“You packing?”

“You know there’s only one way a Marine gives up his gun,” he reminded her.

She assessed his condition. He appeared to be lucid, his eyes bright but not too wide. His movements, though cautious, weren’t deliberate or jerky. Gabe seemed to be in full command of his faculties, but she couldn’t be certain her eyes weren’t deceiving her, and thus could not let her guard down.

“You have a point,” she conceded. “However, given your recent use of stupid pills, the fact that you’re officially UA, and the fact that you just broke into my father’s house, I’m afraid I’m going to have to insist that you release that weapon to me until such time as I can be assured you will not use it against me or him.”

“Given that you would put me down before I could even draw it, is that really even necessary?” Gabe countered.

Billie heard her father coming down from upstairs. She did not want him to walk in on this. “Gabe, if you didn’t want to be treated like a criminal, you shouldn’t have committed B&E. My father is home—”

“Billie, who are you talking to?” Thomas asked as he was walking through the living room.

“Shit,” Billie muttered, her eyes never wavering from Gabe as she threw over her shoulder, “Dad, stop where you are. Do
not
come into the kitchen.”

Much to her relief, she heard him pause, her commanding tone enough to make him listen.

“I want to talk to you, Gabe,” she said to her former team mate. “I want to understand what the fuck is going on. But I need you to understand that until I can be certain your presence is not a threat to my father, I cannot let you come any further into his home with a weapon on your person. If you take another step without surrendering it, I will not hesitate to shoot you.”

Gabe stared for a long moment, then without a word reached slowly around to his back. She loved this man like one of her brothers, and she had once trusted him with her life, but that didn’t mean her already sky-high adrenaline level didn’t get an extra dose in preparation for possible combat. It was no small relief that the M1911A1 Gabe drew out was turned around and held out to her grip first. Her Sig trained on him still, Billie reached forward to take it with her right hand, slipping it into the waistband of her jeans.

“Is that the only weapon you have on you?” she asked.

Shaking his head, Gabe nonetheless smiled as he lifted a leg, pulling up the cuff of his own denim pants and removing a wicked-looking Bowie from his boot. That, too, he held out to her grip first. After Billie had taken it, she placed it next to his gun, then gestured for him to move up against the wall. With a snort, he did as directed, placing his hands on the wall next to the back door at shoulder height, standing with his legs spread. Billie made quick work of patting him down, and only when she was sure he had nothing else did she relax.

She put her own gun into her waistband at the small of her back. “Would you care for a beer, Gabe?”

Gabe laughed as he turned around. “You are something else, She-Devil. First you threaten to shoot me, then you offer me a drink.”

She smiled. “A girl’s gotta keep the fellas on their toes, Thunderhead. It’s good to see you, by the way.”

She gestured toward the fridge and he turned to it, opening it and pulling out a Bud. Billie then stepped aside so that he could precede her into the living room.

“No longer afraid I’m a threat to your father?” he quipped as he passed her, twisting the cap on the beer as he went.

“You might still be deadly in your weaponless state, Gabe,” Billie said as she followed, “but we both know that any move you make against him would be your last, and I get the feeling you came here to talk. That’s kinda hard to do when you’re dead, from what I hear.”

Gabe scoffed as he took a swig of the Budweiser. Her father, she saw, had moved to stand by the door. His arms were crossed and his expression curious as he watched her and their unexpected guest enter.

“It’s all right, Dad. You remember my old teammate, Gabe Lincoln? He’s part of the reason I came home,” she assured him.

“My apologies for the lateness of the hour, Mr. Ryan,” Gabe said.

Thomas nodded, his gaze drifting toward the knife and gun she’d taken from Gabe before returning to hold her stare. “I’ll be upstairs if you need anything.”

“Thanks, Dad,” Billie replied, and with a nod her father returned to the second floor.

Gabe turned and dropped onto the end of the couch opposite the beer bottles she’d gathered to be disposed of. Billie sat across from him in her father’s armchair after pulling his gun and Bowie from her waistband and setting them on the side table next to the chair. She allowed him a few more minutes to enjoy the beer before she started asking questions.

“Tell me about the project, Gabe,” she said. “What did Brigadier General Wainright recruit you guys for? Did you know about the drugs when you signed up?”

Gabe raised an eyebrow. “So you’ve met the general, have you?” he said, then took a swig of the beer.

“I’ve not yet had the displeasure,” she replied. “He’ll be getting a piece of my mind when I do get to meet him, which will be in the morning if I have anything to say about it.”

Her companion took another drink before speaking again. “Wainright talks a good game. Here we were figuring we’d be deployed again any moment, and he called us in from Lejeune out of the blue one day. Says some biochemist working for the Defense Department has developed this serum that’s supposed to make a man stronger, faster—even smarter. Said all the prelim tests on monkeys and rats and shit showed extreme promise, so human testing had been given the green light.”

“Why did you guys say yes?” Billie asked. “When we were serving together, all of us agreed that if we were ever approached for something like that we were going to avoid it like the plague, because we didn’t want to become human guinea pigs.”

“And none of us wanted to turn into psychotic jackasses like Kevin Bacon in
Hollow Man
,” Gabe added.

He lifted the bottle to his lips again and tipped his head back, not coming up for air until he had drained the rest of it. He then tossed it to his right onto the pile she had collected before, the glass clinking loudly and causing a couple of the bottles to roll back toward him.