Fractured, page 23
When I parked and climbed out, I didn’t bother to lock the door of my Jeep. I bolted from the Cherokee and ran up the walkway to the blue-trimmed white house. I cut across the fall-yellowed grass and hurried past the basketball hoop where I often played three-on-three with my brothers and new sister-in-law. I ran up the stairs without bothering to knock and I let myself in through the front door.
Neither Mama nor Daddy was in the family room and I ran straight through the swinging door to the kitchen. I came to a stop. My mother was using a pair of hot pads to take a baking pot out of the oven. I caught the wonderful smell of her rice pudding.
“Lexi.” Mama beamed as she set the baking pot down and left the white-and-blue-checkered hot pads on the counter. “I made your favorite. Rice pudding.”
“Mama.” The word came out choked as I ran to my mother and fell into her warm embrace. “I’ve missed you so much.”
“I’ve missed you, too, pet.” After a huge hug, Mama drew away and stroked the side of my face, her look tender and concerned. “Is everything all right?”
It was hard to meet her gaze. It was so hard to see the dark green cloth wrapped around her head, hiding the fact that her hair must have fallen out from the chemo. I didn’t want to picture her beautiful gray hair falling out in chunks, leaving her bald.
And she was thin. Way too thin.
“Of course, I’m fine.” I tried to smile, for her.
That’s what she wanted. She didn’t want everyone to walk around worried and afraid. That had never been her way, and I knew that in my heart. But I didn’t think I did a very convincing job of not looking worried or afraid.
And angry. My anger at the cancer that was inside her was eating away at me, too.
She frowned as I met her blue eyes, and her Boston Irish accent was strong. “Don’t you go moping around on me, you understand? I want to see you out there playing basketball with your brothers and Willow, kicking their arses.”
I hugged her again, feeling the softness of her clothing, breathing in her familiar scent. Apples along with the spices she used for cooking.
“I could use your help, pet.” Mama put her hands on her hips as she looked at me. “Start peeling those potatoes on the cutting board by the sink. I’m putting together a couple of Irish lamb and potato hot pots.”
“I’m on it.” I can’t cook, but peeling potatoes I can do. I went to the sink and picked up the potato peeler, then glanced back at her. “Do you like your doctors at the cancer center?”
Mama gave a nod and smiled. “The doctors and nurses at Massachusetts General are fine indeed.”
My stomach turned at the thought of her having to go there. I turned and started peeling a potato. “What do the doctors say?”
“The cancer is shrinking.” The sound of cabinets opening and closing followed her words as I still faced away from her, making myself focus on the potato. “It may be soon enough that the doctors will go ahead and perform the surgery,” she said.
I stared at the potato and stopped peeling it. The ache behind my eyes made the pressure in my head almost unbearable. “How much longer before they can get the cancer out?”
“Pet, stop.” Mama rested her hand on my shoulder, and I looked up at her. She smiled. “Your brothers are coming over for dinner, so I need your attention on getting those potatoes peeled.”
I tried to smile back but failed miserably. “Okay.”
“Now tell me about your trip to Stockholm.” Mama moved to the fridge, and cool air brushed my bare arms. She grabbed two bunches of green onions before closing the door. “Did you enjoy yourself?”
I studied the potato in my hand. “Not this time.”
Chapter 31
Black ops. Blacker mistakes
* * *
“I missed your cooking.” I leaned back on the couch and patted my stomach. Other than Mama’s cooking, I couldn’t get enough of Donovan’s.
We were in Donovan’s living room in Back Bay. The brownstone he had bought was incredible. It looked like he’d hired an interior designer for his floor and for Kristin’s. “That Ben and Jerry’s Chunky Monkey ice cream was a nice touch.”
He spooned the last of the banana ice cream with walnuts and chunks of chocolate into his mouth before answering. “You only missed my cooking?”
“The sex.” I grinned at him. “I definitely missed the sex over the last week while you’ve been wrapping things up in Manhattan.”
“That’s what you always say.” Donovan set the empty container and spoon on the serving tray by our plates. “You miss the sex when we’re not together.” He brought his hands to my face and cupped my cheeks with his fingers, which were cool from holding the ice cream container. “I wonder if you missed me.”
He kissed me before I could say anything in return. His kiss was soft, sweet, delicious. He tasted like banana ice cream and chocolate.
When he drew away, he rubbed his thumb over my cheek. “Are you sure you want to know about my past?”
Surprise made me blink. He was offering to tell me?
“You were right.” Donovan brushed strands of hair from my cheek. “You shared your past with me, and I should be willing to do the same.”
“About damned time,” I said with a pretend grumble. But in some ways I was worried for him because of that cryptic thing he had said the last time we talked.
He gave me a half smile. More a sad smile. Probably because of what he was going to tell me.
“As you know, I was a SEAL before I left the Navy to take care of my sister when our parents were killed,” he said.
I nodded, studying his brilliant blue eyes.
“No one knew, but I was still active duty while I raised Kristin.” He lowered his hand from my face and leaned back against the couch. “I did local jobs that wouldn’t take me away from my sister.” He paused. “As a mercenary. Mostly I did private security work guarding senior U.S. diplomats, but there were other more secretive operations that I took care of.”
“Mercenary,” I said, the word seeming strange when it came to Donovan and the United States, not some foreign country. “But that changed when your sister graduated and went to college? Or did you continue your work as a mercenary?”
“When Kristin headed off to Harvard,” he said, “I went into black ops.” Donovan shook his head. “It was like being a mercenary ten times over”
I put my hand on his knee and squeezed, but he didn’t seem to notice.
“Our missions were quietly approved and funded by a branch of the military,” he said. “My job was recovery. To rescue specialist kidnapped soldiers and kidnapped operatives that no one knew existed. I didn’t just recover people, though. I recovered objects, like military secrets—anything that needed recovery.”
“That’s probably one of the reasons why Oxford wanted to hire you so badly.” After all, we were RED, the Recovery Enforcement Division.
Donovan nodded. “I was good at what I did. Damned good.” His brilliant blue eyes seemed to dim as they clouded with what had to be memories that I wasn’t sure anymore were something I wanted to know about. “Too good,” he added softly.
“What happened?” I asked.
He looked down at my hand, which I’d rested on his knee. “One of our ops had to do with going after a major terrorist responsible for tragedies that we as a country still have not come to grips with.”
Chills prickled my spine. I didn’t know what was coming, but it wasn’t going to be good.
“Except we weren’t supposed to just recover him.” Donovan met my gaze again. “We were ordered to eliminate him.”
“Something went wrong,” I stated.
“We were fed bad intel.” His eyes seemed even more clouded with pain. “I was captain of our squad and I trusted our source.”
I held my breath.
Donovan looked at me with so much remorse on his face that I wanted to bring him into my arms and hold him tight. “I should have had my men do some of our own recon.”
He blew out his breath. “We were given a building and a specific time that the terrorist would be meeting with followers in an Afghan village.”
Here it came.
“My squad prepared hours ahead of time,” he said. “We had that building wired with so many explosives, they wouldn’t find any pieces left to identify.
“One of my men was ready to blow the whole fucking place with the only remote.” Donovan’s throat worked as he swallowed, and my chest was hurting like an elephant was standing square on it. “I picked up my long-range binoculars and adjusted them so that I could see better.
“It wasn’t until then that I saw the children being herded into the building.”
Horror built up inside me, welled like boiling water in a pot.
“I yelled at my man to abort, as loud as I could.” He gritted his teeth before he continued. “I didn’t give a shit who heard me even though there were Afghan soldiers all around us who hadn’t been aware we were there.”
I closed my eyes, knowing what was coming.
“My operative didn’t hear me.” Donovan’s throat worked again. “And we blew those children all to hell.”
Donovan braced his elbows on his thighs and put his face in his hands. I didn’t know what to do. What to say. The horror of what his team had done, what he’d had to live with, was too great.
“The Afghan soldiers captured every man on my team,” Donovan said when he raised his head. “We were beaten, tortured. A couple of men were killed. For a while I was too numb to care. I felt like I deserved it.
“After a while I realized I had to get my men out of there. I couldn’t let them continue to be brutalized.” He shrugged, a very non-casual shrug. “I escaped, helped to get every one of my men out of there. My men who were still living.
“I never saw the children’s faces. The children we killed.” Donovan looked at me again. “But I see faceless children in my dreams and my waking thoughts. Every single day of my life.”
I buried my face against his shirt and slid my arms around his waist and held him. Soon he gripped me tight in his arms and we clung to each other for a long time.
We slept together that night, but all we did was hold each other.
In the morning I woke to see Donovan propped up on his elbow looking down at me. His face was so serious as he met my eyes.
“I don’t know how you’ve done it, Lexi,” he said, and I knew he was really serious because he’d used my first name. “But I care for you in ways I’ve never cared about another woman.”
“Donovan,” I started, but he put his hand over my mouth.
He moved between my thighs and spread them apart before he thrust his erection into me, hard.
He took me so deep and fast and so unexpected that I came within moments. My cry surprised me, and with every stroke my body vibrated.
When he climaxed, he shouted out my name. He throbbed inside me and I kissed his jaw as his breathing came in ragged puffs. A drop of his sweat splattered my chest.
Donovan rolled over onto his side, bringing me with him. “I love you, Lexi,” he said, his voice soft, quiet.
Shock rolled through me. I couldn’t move.
I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t say anything. All I could do was close my eyes and pretend he hadn’t said those words.
Excerpt: Vendetta
Chapter 1
Being an assassin is easier than being in love
* * *
My prey was here, somewhere. I just had to locate him and hope he took the bait.
Music pulsed through my body as I casually crossed my legs at the knees and adjusted myself on the stool in front of the oak bar. Deliberately, I let my strapless little black dress slide up, exposing more of my thighs.
Without looking directly at anyone, I knew men were watching me. I was good at that—attracting attention when I needed to. From my days as a sniper and an assassin, I was well trained to be aware of everything and everyone around me.
The stem of the martini glass was cool to my fingertips as I raised it and touched the rim to my lips. Sweetly sour, the lemontini rolled over my tongue and I felt the alcohol slide down my throat.
Wood-bladed fans stirred the air, alleviating some of the warmth of the Boston nightclub as I watched people gyrate on the elevated dance floor in the center of the club. I found myself wanting to slip into the crowd and join them, dancing to get my mind to stop dwelling on things I didn’t want to think about. I wanted to dance to forget.
Damn it. What’s wrong with me?
What was wrong? I knew exactly what was wrong. I couldn’t let go of the past. Couldn’t let go of what had happened to me and what I’d done so many years ago.
And I can’t let go of Nick.
Yet that was exactly what I’d done. I’d let him go.
Over and over in my mind, our last conversation played like a song that wouldn’t stop repeating and repeating itself in my head. On that day we had been standing in my bedroom after sleeping together.
“I love you, Lexi.” Nick had taken me by the shoulders as he told me again how he felt. “Don’t shut me out.”
For a long moment I’d remained silent, not looking at him. When my gaze met his, I didn’t flinch when I said, “I don’t love you, Nick. I care about you, but I don’t love you.”
Even as I’d said the words I felt something crumble inside me.
He’d looked at me a long time then released his grip on me and stepped back. His expression had darkened and I couldn’t read it at all. “One of these days you’ll realize that you more than care for me.”
I shook my head. “No.” I couldn’t allow myself to love him. Not after everything I’d done in my sordid past.
Nick deserved better than me.
He’d pushed his hand through his hair in the familiar way that I’d come to know so well. “I’m leaving.”
I just stared at him. “Okay.”
“Leaving Boston.” His face was grim, his words tight. “I’m moving back to Arizona with my sister.”
A hot flush had stolen over my skin and my head grew light. I couldn’t think of anything to say. First, he said he loved me and then he was telling me he was leaving. I felt as if all of me was falling apart now.
I straightened my spine. “Is this goodbye?”
He had studied me for a long moment. “If you want it to be.”
I pushed past him, my eyes hot and dry. I waited for him by my front door. When he reached me he wore a grim expression.
My voice had trembled a little and I’d hoped he couldn’t tell as I said, “Goodbye, Nick.”
He walked past me, grabbed the doorknob and jerked the door open. He didn’t look over his shoulder as he closed the door hard behind him.
Tears wanted to come but of course I didn’t cry. I couldn’t cry. I was broken.
An odd lump seemed to block my throat as my mind returned from the memory of Nick leaving, to the present where I was sitting in a nightclub waiting for my target. I didn’t have time for pain or regrets.
Stop it, Lexi!
Once I managed to swallow down the lump, I drained my glass and set it aside on the bar before casually letting my gaze drift over the patrons. I lightly fingered the diamond dragonfly pin on the left side of my strapless dress, above my breast.
A young man, probably in his mid-twenties, got to his feet and started toward me.
Mentally I sighed and moved my hand away from the pin. Here goes.
The guy leaned up against the bar as I brought my gaze to his. By his mannerisms, confidence, and smirk, I pegged him as someone who’d just graduated from college and was on the fast track to a brilliant career. “Can I buy you a drink?”
I gave him a cool smile. “I’m waiting for someone.” I looked away but still kept him in my peripheral vision.
He turned to the bar and ordered himself a beer. After the bartender handed him a cold one, he said to me, “If you change your mind—”
“I won’t.” I cut through his words, making it clear I wasn’t interested. “But thank you.” I gave him a quick smile.
He raised his beer bottle in a salute and turned away.
Three more men approached me, and I sent them packing faster than the first. I didn’t have time for them. I needed to locate the man I was told could lead me to Anders Hagstedt. Or rather, Karl Bachmann, his real name. He was wanted in several countries for sex slavery, and personally I wanted to kill him.
I let my gaze drift toward the entrance, and it was as if my heart stopped beating and I couldn’t breathe when I saw the man who filled the doorway.
Nick.
It was as if my memories had brought him to me.
A black T-shirt stretched across his well-defined chest and sculpted biceps, and his Levis hugged his trim hips. His dark hair was a little longer and I could imagine that I could see the brilliant blue of his eyes from where I sat.
He seemed to radiate even more power than he had the last time I’d seen him, if that was even possible. His rough angles and edges gave him an unapproachable look. Dangerous. Lethal.
Our gazes met and a purely sexual thrill went through me. Or was it something more?
My body heated as he started toward me. In an almost nervous movement, I tucked a strand of my dark chin-length hair behind my ear. As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t look away from him.
If I was honest with myself, I didn’t want to look away. But I didn’t want to be honest with myself. I was fighting it with everything I had.
The closer he came to me, the faster my heart beat and the greater the heat grew inside me. Fire licked at my skin and my belly twisted. The immediate reaction I always had when I was around him hit me with a force that nearly took my breath away.
And then he reached me, and I could see the blue, blue of his eyes even in the dim light. He studied me, his mouth in a firm line and he looked almost grim. I had to look up from where I was sitting. Even if I was standing, I’d have to look up. He towered at over six feet where I was a whole five-foot-four.
