Cold Silence, page 16
Fourteen had been a good age. Fifteen had been utter Hell.
She ignored the direction her thoughts had taken, turned off the light and headed downstairs.
Shane stood barefoot in her kitchen pulling takeout cartons from the oven with his bare fingers.
“I have oven gloves somewhere—”
“Not a problem.”
He’d found cutlery, dishes and had placed an open bottle of beer on the counter. He started digging into the food, as if somehow knowing she wouldn’t be able to eat unless he did so first.
She jumped in surprise when he handed her the plate he’d filled. Followed by the beer.
“Thanks.”
Her dining table was covered in boxes of books she should donate but couldn’t bring herself to part with. Eating in the lounge on the couch felt too relaxed and potentially dangerous. She climbed up on the breakfast stool instead. The food was delicious. Spicy but not too hot.
Shane stood on the kitchen side of the island and ate standing up.
Despite her exhaustion she was painfully aware that the two of them were once again alone in her home. It felt different from Monday when he’d checked her security. Different from the time they spent together on the task force. This felt intimate, more like a friendship, or even a date. Maybe it was because of that fake kiss they’d shared which had felt more authentic than anything she’d experienced. Maybe it was because they’d gone through hell together today.
She liked him and thought he liked her. But maybe that was wishful thinking on her part. That scrappy desire-to-belong thing still fighting to stay alive after all the years.
She hadn’t realized how hungry she was until she finished the whole plate without saying a word. Shane went back for seconds and she had a little more Pad Thai.
She frowned as something struck her. “Why didn’t we hear the shot? Was Zenko bleeding out on the couch for twenty minutes?”
Shane looked up, green eyes narrowed and laser focused. Frowned. “EG must have used some sort of suppressor. Either homemade or the real thing. It is still surprising we didn’t hear anything. I didn’t even think about it.”
Yael took a drink of her beer and dabbed her mouth with a napkin.
His eyes ran over her features and she suddenly regretted that she was in her pjs with no makeup and wet hair. She felt exposed. Raw. Vulnerable. Her usual armor was gone.
“You’re good at this, you know,” he said suddenly.
She huffed out a laugh. “Hardly.”
He came around to her side of the counter and she shifted nervously. “I mean it.”
He moved closer, reached out for her plate. Her hands trembled as she handed it over and he was gracious enough to pretend not to notice. He put the plates in the dishwasher and she placed the containers with leftovers in the bag on the counter for him to take with him.
“Keep it,” he insisted, washing his hands in the sink. Then drying them.
“Are you sure?”
He smiled as he stepped closer. Took her hands in his. She went to withdraw but he grasped her tight for a moment.
“Yael.” He held her until she raised her gaze. “I don’t know if it’s me who makes you nervous or men in general—and I honestly don’t know which I’d hate more.”
Her eyes went wide.
Usually, men gave up on her when she didn’t fall all over them. Shane seemed to be made of Teflon when it came to dealing with brush offs. Not in a creepy way. In a way that made her think he might genuinely respect her and be interested in who she was beneath the surface.
He squeezed her fingers. “You don’t need to be nervous around me, Yael. You can trust me. I promise I’m one of the good guys.”
She wanted to believe him but she’d been here before. Maybe not with a rugged HRT operator, but with other men over the years. Men she’d thought might be worth the risk of intimacy. She’d been proven wrong every single time. She tugged her hands away.
“You lied to me today to get what you wanted. How can I trust what you say?”
His eyes widened in surprise. He might be one of the good guys but he’d been happy to use her to further his agenda. She’d almost forgotten about that fact because he’d charmed her with care and attention. She couldn’t afford to forget things like that. Manipulation mattered. Then again, so did lying about your real identity.
Her mood took a nosedive—exactly why she tended to avoid getting to know people better. It was a reciprocal process.
“I should have told you the truth about what I’d said to Sloan.”
“Yes, you should have.”
Would she have gone with him if he’d told her the truth? Probably not. She didn’t want to risk her job nor her place on the task force. And she’d have missed out on capturing a video of EG and the vehicle he was driving.
Lines formed between his brows. “I knew Sloan would have made me wait until after they raided the Fayetteville apartment and I didn’t want to do that. My instincts were telling me Zenko was at the cabin.” His thumb brushed her cheek, making her skin tingle. “And I always trust my instincts. But I put you in danger when I promised I wouldn’t. That was wrong. Next time I’ll treat you as an equal when making choices about the investigation.”
“Next time?” She realized she was staring at his mouth the same time he seemed to realize he was staring at hers.
She swallowed tightly.
He cupped her jaw, his fingers sliding into her wet hair. His deep green eyes were dark with interest.
She was trapped between him, the stool, and the island, except, the problem was not that she was trapped, but rather that she had no desire to escape. Her earlier exhaustion vanished. Her reluctance to get personally involved took wings and headed south for winter.
He slowly leaned toward her and she stopped pretending she somehow wanted to get away. She slipped her hands up and around his neck. He smelled of some sort of fresh pine scent and it must be his soap or shampoo, and reminded her of long-ago holidays in happier times.
He kissed her. She’d expected gentle and coaxing like last time, but this was hot and demanding in a way she’d forgotten a kiss could be. He parted her lips and took the kiss deeper as she raised herself up on tiptoe and strained to get closer.
Lust exploded along her veins and vaporized all the reminders of why she should stay away from this man and men in general. Her tongue delved into his mouth. Tasting him.
Shane Livingstone wasn’t going to stick around. He’d told her that from the start. He was a freaking elite operator of one of the premier law enforcement organizations in the world. He was living the dream. They were temporarily working together, nothing more. Under normal circumstances they never should have met. He wasn’t someone she’d have to deal with on a daily basis. He was someone she should enjoy as a short, beautiful, no-strings fling.
She kissed him deeper and scraped her teeth over his bottom lip. He groaned, his fingers tightening on her waist.
A shiver of awareness rushed over her. It had been a long time since she’d had sex. The last time had been with a guy from the marketing department of her last job. He’d watched her for a year and she’d finally taken him up on his offer of a drink and, unfortunately, mediocre sex when she’d known she was leaving town. He’d left without a word in the middle of the night and she’d felt dirty and used, even though she’d been glad he’d skulked away.
Now she ran her hands over Shane’s shoulders and felt the strong muscles in his back tense to iron beneath her fingers.
His cell phone buzzed in his pants pocket and he broke away. Stood back. “Shit. I didn’t mean to do that. Damn. I’m sorry.”
A wave of consternation rushed over her. She’d been contemplating sex and he was sorry about a kiss.
He checked his cell and grimaced. “Seems I need to check in with my boss and I know you’re exhausted.” He cupped her cheek again with his warm palm.
She wanted to kiss his thumb but didn’t want to appear desperate. She slid away, wide awake now, pinning what she hoped was a cool smile to her lips. “Forget it. It was just a kiss.”
She didn’t look away from his gaze and watched as his eyes crinkled at the edges with either confusion or amusement.
“Okay then. Get some rest. I’ll pick you up at 0630.”
She led the way to the door and made her expression bland as she turned to face him. “Thanks for the ride home and the food,” she said. “See you in the morning.”
He paused for a moment, then settled for a silent nod and a look she couldn’t interpret.
He hesitated as he was about to climb into his truck. “Call me if there are any problems. I’m five minutes away in an emergency.”
She smiled brightly and watched him leave, both of them making sure the garage door was fully closed before he drove away.
“Argh.” The sound reverberated around the empty garage, Myrtle the only witness to her distress. Yael couldn’t believe she’d kissed him again.
Humiliation crawled all over her brain. No way in hell would she call Shane Livingstone for help. Ever.
She checked the locks, the alarm and the cameras. Everything was clear. She put the food in the fridge, grabbed her cell and laptop case to drag them upstairs.
She began digging into her data even as her eyelids started to slide closed. Eventually, when she couldn’t stay awake any longer, she pushed aside the machine and drew the covers higher.
As her mind drifted, she began to relive that incredible kiss.
In retrospect, she was glad Shane had called a halt to things when he had. It would have been a massive mistake to take things further. But she had the feeling it would have been the sort of massive mistake she’d remember gleefully for the rest of her life.
15
Shane wanted to bounce his head off the steering wheel. He’d known that kiss was a mistake before it had started and yet he’d been unable to resist. So much for his mental fortitude. So much for his indomitable spirit and laser focus. He’d wanted to kiss her and she’d looked like she’d wanted to be kissed, so his libido had knocked aside all the other considerations and just gone for it. And then, afterward, he’d apologized.
He blew out a large breath. Totally fucked up.
Yael’s coolness at the end there when she’d very politely shown him the door hadn’t fooled him one bit. Calling her on it would do absolutely nothing except embarrass them both.
Ass. Hole.
He called Novak as he drove toward his apartment. It was a little after ten and he braced himself, knowing his boss would have expected to hear from him much sooner than this.
“You went after this guy Zenko yourself?” Novak wasted no time with pleasantries.
“We discovered a lead that was close enough to check out. As no one gave me the head’s up regarding the little trip to Fort Bragg, I figured it wouldn’t hurt to take a look.”
It was a dig. Shane had not appreciated being left out of that intel until after HRT had already deployed.
“We already had too many people on the ground,” Novak grumbled. “The FBI agents from Charlotte could have managed without our dog and pony show turning up. Anyway, you had all the fun. What happened at the cabin?”
“I wrote it all in my report—”
Novak exhaled heavily, sounding tired. “Shane, I don’t want to read a fucking report. I want you to tell me what happened.”
They were all still suffering the aftershocks of losing Montana and Scotty. Nothing would make things better anytime soon. Maybe that was the real reason Shane had kissed Yael earlier. To forget. And because he’d wanted to. A small pleasure in a sea of pain.
“Fine.” Shane gave an exaggerated sigh to lighten the atmosphere as he pulled into the parking lot outside his building. “We drove—”
“We?” Novak demanded.
Shane realized exactly where this was going before it started. “Myself and another member of the task force drove—”
“The computer hacker?”
“Coder.” Shane winced as he found himself defending her even though he was now convinced she was perfectly legit.
“Are you saying, you and an unarmed civilian headed off to check out a lead on the whereabouts of an explosives expert who was known to be armed, dangerous and who was most likely responsible for killing one of our own?”
“The plan wasn’t to confront Zenko. It was to confirm whether or not the suspect was there.” Shane stayed in his truck as he patiently explained exactly what had gone down. His boss was pissed, which Shane understood, but Novak would have done the same thing in his boots.
“We all know how plans can go to shit in the real world,” Novak said.
Amen to that.
“Anyway, I left Yael in the neighbor’s woodshed in case things went south while I went to find out if it was Zenko’s truck hidden under a tarp at the side of the cabin. I planned to verify and then watch from the woods until backup arrived. Trouble was when I went around one side of the house, Yael saw someone else leaving via the front door.”
“She see his face?”
“Unfortunately not.”
“He see her?”
The idea sent another rush of alarm racing through Shane’s veins. “She doesn’t think so.”
“I hope not. She already has a target on her back.”
Shane grunted. He didn’t like being reminded of that fact.
“Does she have protection?”
“She has a great security system and security guards at the entrance to her gated community.” Shane could almost see Novak curling his lip.
“What about a weapon or training?”
“No. She doesn’t like guns.” Fuck. Shit. He couldn’t believe he’d left her there alone when he’d seen what this Evi1Geni-us guy was capable of. The asshole had drilled a hole in a woman’s temple for money or fun—or both.
“Okay, boss, look, I get it.” He was an idiot. “I’m heading back to her place to sleep on her couch.” Shane’s stomach churned as he put his truck in gear and began retracing the route he’d just traveled. Why had he left? Because he’d been worried he couldn’t control himself. He—who was supposedly a master of controlling himself and his actions. It was what the Hostage Rescue Team did.
Why had he been turned inside out by a mere kiss? Why had he run?
“I could request a protective detail from HRT. We could give the FNGs some useful real-world experience and at the same time keep her safe.”
For some reason Shane hated that idea and knew she would too. “She’s not big on people or fuss and I honestly don’t think she’d cooperate. I’ll drive her to and from work tomorrow and if there’s a gap in security, I’ll talk to her boss about arranging some supplemental measures.”
“Shane…”
Crap. Novak was about to give him a lecture on not getting involved with people from work although he was a fine one to talk—
“Be careful. I’ve already lost two friends this month and I don’t want to lose another. And this UNSUB does not mess around.”
The words hit him like a blow to the chest. “I hear you.” He checked his mirrors and took a few extra turns because rushing was when people made mistakes. The last thing he wanted to do was lead this freak to Yael’s door.
He drove back to the guard post and he’d become such a frequent visitor that whoever was inside didn’t even make him slow down or lower his window to gain access.
Tomorrow he’d have a word with their superior but tonight he didn’t want to waste time or give anyone a reason to turn him away, especially when Yael might not be too happy to see him.
But he didn’t even have to wake her. Earlier, he’d “borrowed” a spare set of keys and a garage door opener he’d found in the utility room. He knew the alarm code.
If it hadn’t been so cold out, he might have stretched out on the backseat of the truck but it was below freezing and all he had for warmth was a bloody raincoat.
He sent a text to warn her he was there then let himself into her house, turning off the alarm before re-arming all the exits and entrances.
A few seconds later his phone buzzed and he looked down, expecting a text from Yael to tell him to get lost. Instead, it was Alex Parker.
“Trouble?” the text asked.
Shane thumbed in a reply. “I’m watching her six from the comfort of the couch.”
“Let me know if you think she needs a full-time bodyguard,” Alex replied.
He was shocked that Alex Parker trusted his opinion. And unexpectedly pleased.
“Will do.” The thought of other people guarding her darkened Shane’s mood, even though Yael’s safety was paramount, not his fragile male ego.
They were spending most of their time together anyway so it was hardly putting himself out by doubling as a protection detail. It seemed redundant to involve anyone else when he was right here. He doubted Evi1Geni-us would attack her in her own home but who knew what this psycho was capable of.
There was a short pause in communication followed by, “She’s a loner by habit. Go easy on her.”
What did that mean?
Shane sent the guy a thumbs up emoji because it seemed the most appropriate response and he doubted Alex would reveal any deep dark secrets to a guy he barely knew.
The kitchen was dark but Shane could see perfectly well using the lights from the stove and microwave. The stairwell was in deep shadow and he couldn’t hear anyone moving around upstairs. He checked the back deck and there were no footprints in the frost.
But how did he know for sure Yael was actually safely asleep upstairs?
The only way was either to call her and wake her—which would be embarrassing if she decided to ignore it and here he was, hanging out in her house… Instead, he used the skills that the American taxpayer had invested millions to hone to creep upstairs without making a single sound. He saw her easily enough in the glow of her alarm clock. Her computer lay beside her on the duvet and she was fast asleep.
He took a moment to watch her when her guard was down. There was a softness to her features, an innocence in the way her braid fell over her shoulder and her lips parted softly in sleep.
