by Jacey Ward
“Where did she send that email from?” Coy demanded, a wave of wariness overcoming him. He didn’t need the supercomputer to respond—he already knew the answer.
“The address is as follows: 299 Edgevale Road, Baltimore, Maryland—”
“Jesus Christ. She was there. Tonight!” he muttered. But what did it mean? A coincidence? It would be a hell of one and when it came to his world, Coy certainly didn’t believe in coincidences. He couldn’t afford the risk.
But why would she reach out to him if it wasn’t a coincidence? None of this made any sense.
“I’ll write her myself,” Coy muttered, reaching for his laptop. “You find me every scrap of information you can about Clara Collingwood—including on the dark web.”
“Yes, Coy.”
He stared at the email for a long while as SHAY compiled his information, unsure of what to say.
Where have you been, Shay? And why are you resurfacing now—tonight of all nights?
She had to have known that he was there, in her father’s house…didn’t she? He and Geoff had met under such cloak and dagger circumstances, Coy supposed it was possible that he hadn’t told his daughter.
Especially if Geoff is somehow responsible for her mother’s disappearance.
The story Coy had gotten was that Clara had run off with a lover, the last in a long line of adulterous affairs she had had.
That was easy enough to check out but there was something off about the story, particularly when there was a child involved.
How did I not clue in that Cheryl and Shay were the same person?
He was being too hard on himself, he knew that. How could anyone have made such a connection?
“Coy, I have no record of Clara Collingwood after a decade ago. Would you like what I have found?”
“Upload it, SHAY.”
“Yes, Coy.”
He gritted his teeth and leaned forward typing quickly before he could change his mind.
Keep it light and innocent. If this is some kind of a ploy…
But he didn’t believe it, not for a second. From the first time he had seen Shay, standing at that camper outside his family’s compound, he had known that they were connected. It wasn’t just that she had been his first kiss or even his first outside contact. There had been something more, something deeper.
And I felt her there tonight. That’s what it was.
Coy was the furthest thing from a romantic guy that he could imagine. He’d never engaged in a long-time relationship, his dealings with women were always short and sweet.
There was so much that didn’t make sense. It couldn’t just be a coincidence and yet what else could it be?
Trust your gut. It’s the only thing that’s gotten you as far as you’ve come, he reminded himself. And your gut is telling you that Shay isn’t part of some Oculus conspiracy.
She was just a woman who kept popping up in his life—over the span of about twenty years.
Shit, that sounds suspicious, doesn’t it?
She’s the woman who has been lingering in the back of my mind so much that I named my supercomputer after her.
For the first time, he wondered if that was why he had never considered another woman seriously. Had he been waiting around for someone to rekindle the same kind of connection in him that a young girl had over that week outside the compound?
Shit, that’s pathetic, buddy.
He grunted aloud and hit send, sitting back.
“I’m sorry, Coy. I did not understand your command,” SHAY said.
“I said, ‘fuck’, SHAY. No command to understand.”
“Yes, Coy.”
He turned his attention to the file that contained the research SHAY had sent and began to comb through the bits and pieces of information the AI had found. There was nothing of any probative value to him. A marriage certificate between Clara and Geoff, a birth certificate for Shay, a deed to their house.
“Find me all banking information for both Clara and Geoff Collingwood,” Coy called out.
“Yes, Coy.”
But before he could sink back against the chair, the doorbell echoed through the house, causing Simon to bark furiously. Coy tensed, his body instantly preparing for combat, his eyes falling on his cell phone.
2:41 a.m.
Who the fuck would be here now?
The night was getting stranger and stranger; but being trained his whole life for warfare, Coy’s mind began quickly shifting through possibilities.
If it were Roan, he would have called first. Uninvited guests are a big no-no. Assassins don’t generally ring the doorbell. Maybe someone’s car broke down?
He reached into a drawer underneath the dart table and withdrew a Beretta before sliding into the hallway leading toward the front door. Whoever it was had given up on the doorbell and had begun knocking, loud and incessantly, driving Simon completely up the wall.
“Shh,” he hissed at the unaccomplished guard dog, but Simon was in a frenzy, snarling and snapping as Coy unlocked the door and cocked the gun.
“Who is it?” he growled, his voice filled with anger. “Do you know what time it is?”
There was no response but an almost rhythmic pounding on the door now, as if the administrator was growing tired.
“Who the hell is it!” Coy barked. Abruptly, the knocking stopped and so did Simon’s barking. The dog whimpered and backed up slightly, a perplexed look on his face.
What the actual fuck?
With adrenaline coursing through his veins, he threw the door open, ready to fire.
But there was no time to get a shot off as a woman fell into his arm, her eyes closed, her breathing heavy. She barely weighed anything, and for some reason, Coy held her gently, pressed against his broad chest.
“What the fuck?” he muttered out loud this time, looking around for threats, but she seemed to be alone.
Is this an ambush?
Suddenly, her eyes fluttered open and the woman looked up at him, her face awash with panic. She pushed herself out of his arms and stepped back across the threshold, holding out her arms as if warding him off.
“W-who are you?” she whispered, her face almost opaque. “Oh, God…”
“Who am I? Who the hell are you?” he retorted. “You’re in my house!”
“Oh, shit,” she mumbled, looking around desperately. “Where am I?”
Her eyes fell on his gun and widened with fear.
“Oh, God!” she choked. “Put that away! I-I’m sorry! I’m going!”
Consternation flooded him, the sincerity in her face unmistakable. She spun to run away and only then did Coy realize she was only wearing a robe and nightie.
“Wait!” he called out as she crossed the threshold and stumbled down the stone steps. “Just wait a damn second!”
She eyed him warily over her shoulder but she did pause.
“How the hell did you get here? Are you in trouble?”
This is none of your business. You have enough shit to worry about without dealing with a half-naked, very beautiful woman on your doorstep.
“I…”
“Come inside,” he urged, contrition sweeping through him. “You can’t run around like that in the middle of the night. Where were you taken from? Do you know who took you?”
As if this night isn’t strange enough—now I’m in the middle of a kidnapping. Holy fuck.
“I wasn’t taken,” she mumbled. “I…”
“Please come inside,” Coy insisted, wary about having this conversation on his front step. If someone was chasing this woman, he needed to get her inside the safety of his house.
“I’m sorry,” she mumbled. “I-I sleepwalk sometimes.”
Coy’s eyebrows shot up.
“You sleepwalked over here? From where?” he demanded. She inhaled and reluctantly followed him back inside the foyer.
“Roland Park…where am I?”
Coy’s mouth parted but no sound came out.
Okay, this is just get
ting more and more fucked up.
“You expect me to believe that you walked here from Roland Park?” he growled, spinning to confront her again, his fingers curled around his weapon.
She shook her head and lowered her eyes miserably.
“No,” she sighed. “Not walked. Ran.”
More confusion flooded him.
She just happens to be coming from exactly the same place where I was tonight.
Suddenly, a memory stabbed through his head and he was staring at a gangly hazel-eyed girl.
“I have a really good sense of direction…and I can move pretty quickly.”
“Please, can I just make a phone call, sir, and I’ll be out of your way. I promise there’s no need for your gun. I’m completely harmless.”
“Shay.”
Her head jerked up and she met his eyes in shock.
“D-do I know you?” she asked, seeming stunned, her head tilting intriguingly to the right. But her shock was nothing compared to his.
“Yeah,” he sighed. “Apparently we know each other better than we think.”
Something, somewhere kept drawing them together and Coy had no doubt what it was.
Oculus.
The realization knocked the wind from him for more reasons than one.
Coy had spent his life believing he’d been one step ahead of them when all along, they had sent someone to infiltrate his life right from the start. The only question was, how much did Shay really know about all this?
“It’s me—Coy. Coy Conway.”
The disbelief on her face couldn’t be faked and Coy knew then that whatever happened next, they had both been pawns from the start.
Chapter 4
Shock and wariness filled her.
How is this possible? Did thinking about Coy earlier this evening bring me here? And if so, how?? I’ve never been able to do something like that before.
What were the chances that she would have sleep-sprinted to Coy Conway’s front door after messaging him after years of silence?
Dad was monitoring my computer and he arranged for this guy to pretend he’s Coy…or something…
But as she gaped at him, a deep sense of familiarity swept through her and she stared into his eyes. They were exactly how she remembered them, blue-green and laced with gold. If she stared at them deeply enough, she could lose herself in their depths. Somehow, inexplicably, staring into his eyes felt like…safety. Security.
“H-how?” Shay finally managed to gasp. “How can this be?”
Coy snorted and sighed, shaking his head but she felt him watching her closely.
“I got your email,” he offered as if that cleared up anything. “And I responded.”
He studied her closely, waiting for her to respond but Shay didn’t know what to say.
“I…I didn’t get it yet. I just went to bed and ended up here.”
They were still standing in the foyer and Coy must have realized it at the same time she did.
“Come in,” he ordered. “I’ll get you something to drink.”
“Yeah. I think I’m going to need something to drink,” she mumbled, her mind racing as she struggled to make sense of everything.
She followed after Coy, distinctly aware of how she must look to him—dishevelled, half-dressed and confused.
Way to make an impression, she thought, shaking her auburn waves with disgust. Her dark irises were fixed on the curve of his ass as they moved, her teeth nipping her lower lip as she studied his strong form.
Daaaamn, he really has grown up, she thought, her breath catching as they entered a huge living room.
“SHAY, turn on the fireplace and television,” Coy said. She paused at the threshold of the open concept room and cocked her head to the side.
“I…I would if I knew—” but before she could finish her thought, the living room came alive with the gas fireplace and eighty-inch mounted screen.
“Oh, right. Sorry. My computer’s name is SHAY,” he explained, his face turning away from her as he said it but not before she caught the blush tinge his bronze skin.
“You…oh,” she faltered, unsure of how to respond.
Is it sweet? Creepy? Hot?
She knew that her body temperature was rising and there was nothing but awareness flowing through her – without an ounce of fear.
“I guess I never really clued into it at the time,” Coy rushed on, moving toward the half-moon bar in the corner of the room. “But I suppose you kind of were my first crush so it makes sense that I named my current love after you.”
Is that his way of saying he’s not married?
She loathed that she couldn’t stop envisioning his broad shoulders without his somehow perfectly-ironed shirt.
How does anyone look this good at three o’clock in the morning? she wondered, again self-conscious of her wavy, sleep-mussed hair and lack of clothing.
“I’m flattered,” Shay replied, realizing she hadn’t said anything as her imagination took off. “And impressed. A supercomputer. I thought that only NASA had those things.”
Coy smirked slightly.
“You can’t be that naïve, not when your father is who he is.”
Defensiveness spiked through her and Shay folded her arms over her chest.
“I’m not involved in my father’s business,” she said coolly.
And what do you know about my father’s business?
“No? It’s just a coincidence that you show up here on the very night I was at his house? And that you email me while I was at his house. Were you there?”
Shock almost brought her to her knees.
“That was you!” she gasped. “I felt—I felt there was something… different…”
She trailed off, trying to make sense of what she was saying, what she was trying to communicate.
“I didn’t know you were meeting with him,” she paused then, “Wait a sec… why were you meeting with him?”
His eyes bored into her, obviously trying to assess how much to tell her. Then he allowed a half smile, and indicated the leather sofa to his right.
“I’d feel better if you came in and sat down instead of standing there like you’re ready to bolt out the door any second.”
She hesitated for a moment, then pushed off the wall and padded toward him, belatedly realizing that her bare feet were bleeding all over the white rug.
“Oh, shit!” she muttered, aghast. Coy’s eyes traveled down to her feet, his eyes widening.
“Shit, indeed,” he agreed, striding toward with her purposefully, his brows drawing down in concern. Without pausing to ask, he simply bent and scooped her up, cradling her against his chest.
The recurrent sizzle of awareness tripped through both of them, causing their eyes to meet and hold.
Suddenly, the proximity of his lips to hers made Shay aware of every damn inch of him. The hand that had wrapped around his neck slowly trailed into his hair, letting the silky strands slip through her fingers, while her other hand, which had grabbed his chest to stabilize herself, suddenly felt the clench of his muscles rippling under her fingers.
Instantly, her nipples tightened and a wetness pooled between her thighs. The moment dragged out, neither of them willing to break eye contact. “Sit down. I’ll get some alcohol and Band-Aids.”
The haze disappeared quickly at his abrupt words, but she could still feel the lingering sizzle of awareness that his hands left on her body as he set her gently on the sofa.
There is it. That feeling again. How does he do that to me?
When he returned, he held a first-aid kit.
“It’s impossible,” he muttered and for a moment, Shay thought he was talking to himself until he took her left foot and dabbed at it gently with cotton swabs. She flinched at the burn of rubbing alcohol, her face paling as she counted the cuts on the soles.
“You couldn’t have run here in your sleep. Shit, you couldn’t have run here at all if you were still at the house when I left,” he continued, meeting
her eyes again. Shay’s spine stiffened and she tried to look away but he didn’t let her, a hand reaching up to tip her chin toward his face.
“Talk to me, Shay. If you want me to believe that this isn’t some kind of plot, you need to level with me.”
She swallowed the lump in her throat and forced herself to meet his eyes.
“I…I’m fast,” she said weakly. “Like, really, really fast.”
Unbelievably, understanding seemed to shadow his eyes.
“I see,” he sighed. “You’ve been fast your whole life, haven’t you?”
She nodded, not trusting her voice. His hands were soft on her swollen feet but instead of feeling embarrassed, she found herself warming to his touch. The strange, unidentifiable sensation which overcame her every time they touched no longer seemed to alarm her.
The sexual tension between them sped through her again. She glanced at his lips, wondering how they’d feel on her body…between her legs… Her breath hitched conspicuously and her gaze flew to his to see if he had noticed her tell tale sign.
He had noticed all right. The heat flaring in his eyes somehow made her blood sing, and her body was hellbent on getting her mind to agree to jump him.
Jesus Christ, Shay, get a grip. It’s not like you haven’t had sex in over a year. Wait a second…
Yeah, maybe it had been over a year. But still, that didn’t explain this kind of reaction.
She cleared her throat, trying to get back on track. What had they been talking about? Oh yeah, her ‘abilities’.
Dammit.
The thing she never discussed with anyone.
Ever.
“If you want to be honest, then let’s be honest,” she evaded after a long silence as Coy covered her feet with bandages. “Why were you meeting with my father?”
She saw his jaw tighten and noted that he had stubble against his chin. Instantly her mind wondered what it would feel like, rasping over her breasts.
“He hired me to find your mother,” Coy said with bluntness. The information stabbed her heart.
“M-my mother?” she murmured. “Why?”
Coy eyed her with mild surprise.
“You’re not interested in finding your mother?”
“It’s not that,” she said quickly. “I-I just know if she wanted to be found, she would be.”
