Wrecked With You (Stark Security Book 4)

by J. Kenner

  “And yet you are.”

  He shook his head. “No. If he weren’t dead we’d be having a different conversation.”

  “Would we?”

  What could he say? That if he didn’t still have a mission, he’d grab onto her shoulders and tell her that if she wasn’t scared of facing a stone-cold killer then she shouldn’t be scared of being with him. Because that’s what this was about, bottom line. He was certain of it. She’d see a reaction on his face—and why the hell wouldn’t he react?—and she’d bolted. Not because she was butt-hurt that a flicker of doubt might enter his mind. Hell, she was better trained than him, and they both knew damn well the first rule in this business was to question everything. To examine everything. To look at the evidence, but not to discount your gut.

  And Emma’s gut was scared.

  But none of that was the point right now. He wasn’t staying and they weren’t together. So all he said was, “My father’s alive, Emma. And until I alter that particular status quo, none of the rest of it matters. Not you, not me, and not Stark Security. I made this my mission a long time ago, and I’m damn sure not going to stop now.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Alive.

  The word tumbles around in my head, and I can’t quite seem to grasp it. To make it real.

  Clyde Morgan is alive.

  My whole body is hot. Burning. I can practically feel the heft of a gun in my hand. I can almost picture him cowering as I aim. As I fire.

  Alive. Is he really alive? How could he have disappeared for so long? And how in the hell am I going to find him?

  “Emma?” Tony leans toward me, then lightly touches my knee. “Earth to Emma, are you okay?”

  I nod. “Yeah, sorry. I just can’t believe he’s alive. I mean, the man was blown away when we were kids. That’s what you said, right?” I know it was. I remember the stories perfectly well. “I can’t believe he could have been alive all this time and we never knew.”

  “We?” He repeats. “I didn’t think you even remembered the news from back then.”

  I nod, remembering that I’d told Tony I didn’t recall hearing the news back when his dad’s body was discovered.

  “The royal We,” I clarify. “Law enforcement. The man just went completely under.”

  “Apparently.” His voice is cold. Hard.

  I nod, regrouping as I try to figure out what to do with this new bit of information. This unexpected key that fits into a door to my past.

  I stand, then move to the window. I don’t want him to see my face. To see the jumble of confused emotions underscored by a tug of uncertainty, both professional and personal.

  I’d been so angry—no, hurt—when he’d looked at me that way on the island, but the truth is that I get it. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust me, but that he didn’t trust himself. And don’t I feel the same way? Isn’t that why I’m so angry? Because I opened myself up to this man? Trusted him? And then he hurt my heart?

  Except I didn’t fully trust him. And now, if I want in on his search to find Clyde Morgan, I’m going to have to come completely clean.

  I’ve spent my life juggling lies. Holding them close, burying them deep. I’m good at it.

  But telling the truth? That’s something I suck at.

  Now or never, I think, then turn to face him. “So that’s why you’re turning down the offer to join Stark Security. Because you want to continue this quest. You want to find Clyde Morgan.”

  He nods.

  “Then stay. Join the SSA. The resources are insane. Much better than you could manage on your own.”

  “Emma—”

  “No. Listen. This isn’t about what happened between us on the island. I get that you’ve got tunnel vision for getting this guy. I do, too. And we can nail the fucker a lot faster if we work together—and if we take advantage of the SSA’s resources. I mean, you might as well,” I add with a shrug. “I’m going to. And you wouldn’t want me to beat you to the punch, would you?”

  I had to convince him to agree. Yes, it would be awkward working together, but he was right. Focusing on the job was always the best option. You open your heart, you risk getting hurt. Hadn’t he proved that to me during our last night on the island?

  “Why are you so fired up to chase down my father?”

  And there it was—the question I’d been waiting for. I draw a breath, let it out slowly, then take my seat at the far end of the sofa again. “When I saw your expression on the island, it really did feel like a knife to my gut.”

  “Come on, Emma. I already told you what was in my head, and I can only explain so many—”

  “No. Wait. Let me talk.” I take a breath and start over. “When I saw your expression I felt sick. I really did. And part of that was because it seemed like you didn’t trust me, but the bigger part—” I break off, swallow, and start up again. “The bigger part was that you were right not to.”

  I keep my eyes on him as I talk, noting the way he leans forward, his brow furrowing.

  “We were supposed to be partners on that mission, but I had my own agenda. But now I want to partner with you again. And I owe you more than a half-truth.” I shut my eyes, hating that I have to dig into my past and pull it out for examination. But hating more that my silence hurt him.

  “Do you remember when I told you that Eliza and I ran because I learned our father was going to sell us?”

  “My father? Oh, God, my father was the buyer?”

  I nod as he shivers. “I told you I’d never heard of him, but I had. Of course I had. I can’t tell you how much I celebrated when I read that he’d been murdered. His body blown apart so much it was practically unrecognizable.”

  I meet his eyes. “It was staged, of course.”

  “Yeah.” He nods. “Yeah, of course it was. He knew that somehow his predilections had gotten out. He had to disappear. So he staged his death. Probably bribed someone in the LAPD, the coroner’s office, who knows. Then he has surgery, changes his appearance, and lives life a little less flamboyantly. Fucking prick.”

  “How do you know he’s alive?” I ask.

  “Thea,” he says, meeting my eyes. “She told me right before she died.”

  “Poor kid,” I say, pleased to see his sympathetic nod despite the fact that she’d been working for The Serpent.

  “She got sucked into a life she didn’t want and couldn’t escape.” He sighs as he looks at me. “Could have been you. Eliza.”

  “Don’t I know it?”

  He reaches for me, pauses, then draws his hand back. “Thanks for telling me all that.”

  I clench my hand tight, stifling the urge to tug him back and cling to him. Instead, I simply watch as he steeples his hands in front of his face, then exhales. “I’m not joining Stark Security,” he says. “I do that and the leads go cold, and I’m stuck getting shuttled off to the far side of the globe on some other mission. I did that when I was working for Deliverance, and that was fine because most of the time The Serpent had gone under. But now that I know my father is alive? I’m not going to rest until he’s dead.”

  “But the resources are—”

  “I’m saying no to joining. I’m not saying no to you.”

  My heart does a little tripping number, even though I know perfectly well he’s not talking about us personally. “Explain.”

  “You push the mission. Tell Stark and Ryan what Morgan means to you. Tell Quince and Eliza, too,” he adds, and I nod. It’s time my sister knew, anyway. “And then you tell him about the connection. And we team up. Like a joint task force. I get the benefit of Stark Security without the ties. You get a pretty damn awesome partner.”

  “True,” I laugh. “But I don’t get you.”

  The words are out before I realize I’ve said them, and I immediately scramble to cover the gaff. “I don’t mean hearts and flowers and happy ever afters,” I say. “I just mean that we had a good time on the island.”

  “We did,” he says, then frowns. “Is that what you
want? An island-style arrangement? Friends-with-benefits?”

  Part of me wants to jump at the chance. I miss his touch. I miss having him right beside me. The scent of him when he’s close to me. I can’t even remember the last time I turned down a FWB deal with someone I was attracted to, but this time there’s not even a temptation. Because the truth is that I want more. I’ve never wanted it before. I’m not sure if I’ll ever want it again.

  But I’m not about to say it out loud because I know it’s not what he needs. He needs freedom. He needs his vendetta. And until his father is either dead or this hot core inside him burns out, he won’t stay. And he sure as hell wouldn’t ever be mine.

  “I’m not saying no,” Ryan Hunter says from where he sits behind his desk facing Tony and me. “I just want you to lay it all out for me. I want a sense of how long you’ll be unavailable,” he adds, his eyes on me. “And I want an idea of how long we’ll have to convince Mr. Sanchez to join up permanently.”

  “I’m not opposed to the idea,” Tony says. “But until I’ve found him, I stay a free agent, and this mission occupies one hundred percent of my time. Whether it takes ten minutes or ten years.”

  “Understood.”

  “You also need to understand that I’m not playing a catch and call the cops game here. You know what he did to me. To my family.” He nods toward me. “You know what Eliza and Emma almost got sucked into. And who knows how many girls didn’t escape that predatory bastard.”

  “I know.”

  “Do you? Because I want to be crystal clear. I find him, I’m killing him. There is no other end to this mission.”

  “As this isn’t to be an SSA mission, I wouldn’t presume to make that call. We are, however, happy to offer you the use of some SSA resources, as well as agent Tucker’s time and skill. At least for a limited period. How you run the mission in that period is your call.”

  He speaks with stiff formality, but I hear the smile in his voice, especially when he says, “Welcome to the SSA, Sanchez. Even if only as our guest.”

  Beside me, Tony grins “Happy to be here. I’ll be even happier if I can make some progress. “

  “You’re planning on starting with Dailey?” Ryan asks. Referring to the man who, supposedly, took over Morgan’s business.

  “Emma and I ran through the options last night,” he says. “We’re going to throw out multiple wads and see what sticks. Dailey’s the priority. If we can track down a location or an associate, that could be a huge lead.”

  “But we’re also going to follow the money,” I chime in. “Morgan will have set up a trust that funded the continuation of his businesses.”

  “I never followed the money because I believed my father to be dead. But now…”

  Ryan nods. “Now, he’s paying for his living expenses somehow.”

  “Exactly,” Tony says.

  “Other angles?” Ryan asks.

  “The girl,” I say. “She worked for Dailey, so there’s a connection. She apparently slept with The Serpent, so that’s another. And she knew that Clyde Morgan is still alive.”

  “Presumably,” Ryan says, and Tony and I both have to nod. That’s something else we discussed last night. Thea may have it completely wrong. Or we might have misread her completely, and instead of being an innocent, she was as vile as The Serpent and just wanted to mess with Tony’s head.

  “All right,” Ryan says. “Those are three solid angles. I think you two are off to a good start.” He turns his attention to Tony. “Whatever resources you need, you just ask. And as for running the searches, so long as you don’t take time away from their regular assignments, feel free to pull Mario or Denny in for whatever you need. You won’t find two better techs this side of Texas.” He grins, and I know that he’s thinking of Noah Carter, another guy who used to be part of Deliverance, but now works for Stark Applied Technology. When I see Tony grin, I know that he’s gotten the reference as well.

  “We intend to make you like it here,” Ryan continues, “To feel like you’re part of the team. So you’ll want to stay.”

  Tony nods, then casts a quick glance toward me. “It wouldn’t take much convincing,” he says, and I’m certain that the heat I hear in his voice isn’t my imagination. “But Morgan’s my priority. Everything else comes second.”

  I feel an unwelcome twist in my chest. I don’t want to react so viscerally to this man, especially since I know that’s the way it has to be. And, honestly, if I were in his shoes, I’d feel the same.

  We wrap up with Ryan, then step out of his office and into the Stark Security bullpen. It’s filled with over a dozen desks, some assigned to an agent, some open for anybody who needs some extra space, or for guests like Tony.

  As I glance around, looking for an empty space that Tony can commandeer, I see Liam and Quince walk through the door. I nudge Tony, then nod in their direction. “Why don’t you go grab Liam,” I suggest. “Tell him you’re a semi-agent here now.”

  “Funny.”

  “Well, it’s true. And you know he’s going to try to convince you to make it a permanent thing.”

  “It’s not convincing I need,” he says.

  “It’s closure. I know. But even so. Go talk to him. He can introduce you to Mario and Denny. I assume he already knows a significant amount about what you’re doing?”

  “Not all of it, but some. We became pretty good friends during our tenure at Deliverance.” He cocks his head, one brow lifting as he studies me. “You tired of me so soon? Regretting this new found partnership?”

  I roll my eyes. “I have something personal I need to talk to Quince about.”

  “Is this personal having to do with your sister?”

  “No comment.”

  He flashes me a knowing smile, then starts walking in that direction, calling out for Liam, who spreads his arms and flashes a bright smile. “Tony, my man, I’m so glad you’re here. What’s up?”

  As Tony starts to explain to Liam what he needs, I make a beeline for Quince. “Whatcha got in your pocket?” I ask with a tease in my voice. “I’m guessing there’s still a ring rattling around with your change and car keys.”

  “Emma…”

  “Because I haven’t gotten a squealing, giddy call from my sister to tell me that she’s engaged to the love of her life.” I narrow my eyes. “And the love of her life told me that he was proposing soon.”

  “Your worse than a mother on one of those horrible old American sitcoms.”

  “Guilty. When are you making an honest woman of her?”

  “To think I’ll have you as an in-law one day…” He trails off with a wink, then hurries on when I cock my head and cross my arms. “I’ve been planning the perfect evening. I just made a reservation. You’re not going to blow this for me, are you?”

  “I would never do that.” I look him up and down. “Unless you’re not man enough to get it done yourself.”

  He rolls his eyes. “I love your sister. It’s a shame I have to get the baggage, too.”

  I laugh. “Love you, too, brother-to-be.”

  A hint of color rises on his cheeks, and I almost regret ribbing him. Almost. I’ve grown to love this man like a brother. And the sooner he makes my sister happy—correction, happier—the better.

  Honestly, I’m not entirely sure where this pressure to push their engagement along is coming from. Then I see Tony and Liam bent over Mario’s computer, and I have to admit that I might have a clue.

  The pressure’s stemming from happiness. The need to grab it. Claim it.

  And if I can’t have my personal shot, then at the very least I want Eliza to have enough for both of us.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  I’ll say one thing about working in covert ops—there’s not a lot of downtime. Granted, I was never the person responsible for finding the bad guy. Instead, I was the person who took the file I was given, then used the information to either grab the bad guy and bring him in for interrogation or just rid the world of him entirely.
>
  In other words, I’m used to action.

  Granted, I spent a lot of years working as a private investigator, but many of those years were just a cover for my covert work for the SOC. But there were still days that I had to spend trolling through credit reports and old newspaper clippings while my eyes burned from staring at a computer monitor. Or, worse, long nights parked outside someone’s house with a camera, thermos of coffee, and no place to pee. Those jobs were the worst, and definitely the low point of my PI career.

  I’ll say this for the SSA—it has sparkling bathroom facilities, super speedy computers, an amazing break room, and a snack bar that probably puts the most doting grandmother to shame. So I’m counting this career shift as a step up.

  Even so, after two days of slogging through documents and print outs, theories and dead-ends, I’m getting so antsy I’m ready to ask Ryan if there’s someone—anyone—he needs tracked down on another matter. Because I will happily go out into the world and drag the SOB back by the scruff of his neck.

  “You look ready to stab someone with a fork.”

  I tilt my head up to find Tony grinning down at me, the echo of that low, sexy voice lingering in my mind. I force myself not to smile and instead offer him my best scowl. “You’re not wrong. Careful I don’t target you.”

  He laughs, then comes around to my side of the desk and leans against it. He’s barely five inches away now, and I wish he’d edge away a bit more. Just a few more inches so that I can’t smell the spice of his cologne, a scent that’s tangling me up inside.

  For the last forty-eight hours, I’ve been having a hell of a time focusing on my work. How can I when he’s sitting just two desks over? And though I tell myself not to be adolescent, whenever I finish a task and take a break, I find myself sneaking looks at him.

  And the thing that’s the most frustrating? On at least half of those looks, he’s sneaking one right back.

  The last time—less than an hour ago before I escaped to grab a croissant from the snack bar—I’d held his gaze. I said nothing, but I didn’t look away. I want him. I do. And, yes, I get why he’s holding back. I understand it. If it were me, I’d probably do the same. God knows I’ve put myself and my jobs ahead of every other person I’ve ever slept with.