by Violet Paige
Surrender
Violet Paige
Head Over Heels Press
Copyright © 2018 by Violet Paige
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Contents
Keep in touch with Violet
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Epilogue
Violet’s Roast Chicken Recipe
Keep in touch with Violet
Also by Violet Paige
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Chapter One
I heard screaming.
It was loud. Deafening. The more I struggled to find my breath, the harder it was for my lungs to work. I felt as if I were drowning. I kicked wildly. My arms were pinned to my side, keeping me from moving. I fought to be free. The screams grew louder before I realized they were coming from me.
“Em, it’s ok. You’re ok. I’ve got you.” Something registered when I heard the warmth of his voice. “Wake up.”
I opened my eyes. I had squeezed them shut in my sleep. “Vaughn?” I swallowed a strangled gulp of air.
“Yeah. You were having a nightmare. I think it was a nightmare?” He looked lost. Worried. “I’ve been trying to wake you. You kept kicking me.”
“Sorry.” I pulled my knees into my chest. I was rattled from the dream. It had been vivid. So tangible I could still feel the pain. There was a thin layer of perspiration across my skin.
“What scared you like that?” he asked.
I shook my head. I didn’t want to tell him. I didn’t want to admit a dream had affected me to the point I had screamed. “I can’t remember. It’s foggy.”
It didn’t help that everything around me was unfamiliar. I was disoriented from traveling. The hotel room looked nothing like the island bungalow we had been sleeping in for the past week.
“Are you ok? Do you think you can fall back asleep?”
He pulled me against his chest, sliding us under the covers so that his arm enveloped my waist in a tight hold. I didn’t mind how warm he was.
I nodded, glad he couldn’t see my face. My eyes would give it away. He would be able to see the fear coursing through me.
“Get some sleep,” he mumbled. “I’ve got you. Just sleep, babe.” He gave me an extra squeeze as if that would absorb the dream from me. I wished it was that simple.
It wasn’t long before his chest rose with the natural rhythm of his breathing. It was easy for him to fall asleep. He hadn’t seen what I had. I couldn’t close my eyes again.
Once I knew he was asleep, I carefully lifted his hand, peeling it away from my hip as I rolled on my side and put my feet on the floor. I closed the door to the bedroom and wandered to the suite’s sitting room. I sat by the window overlooking the city.
It was our first night in Paris. My first time ever in the city. I’d always wanted to travel to Paris. Somehow, I knew it wasn’t supposed to be like this. I was here, but it still felt like an out of body experience. I couldn’t tell anyone. I couldn’t take pictures. I couldn’t share my new life with anyone who knew me before we landed at Charles de Gaulle.
I hadn’t exactly walked through customs like a pro. There was definitely something terrifying about showing an international security agent a fraudulent passport to enter another country. It was almost as if I didn’t care when we were in the islands. I was drugged on lust. I was happy Vaughn and I were together that I hardly cared.
For one small vacation, pretending I was someone else was kind of fun. It was like when Greer and I would go out in college and use an alias to ditch assholes at the bar. That had been fun. Entertaining. Part of an inside joke she and I shared for years. This? This was life changing. There wasn’t anything fun about lying to the TSA.
I had watched Vaughn sail through the customs check point as easily as if he were at the grocery store register. His eyes never changed. His voice didn’t falter. I could barely make eye contact with anyone.
I knew I wouldn’t have been able to clear security on my own. The only reason I made it through was because of Vaughn. He steadied me. He smiled. Winked. Squeezed my hand for reassurance until we were outside the airport and in a taxi.
The realization of what that meant was gnawing at me. Was I completely dependent on him? Had I lost more than just my old life?
I reached for a blanket on the back of the chair and wrapped it around my shoulders.
Tomorrow Vaughn would have his next assignment from Blackwing.
He would be back at work, as if nothing was wrong. This was his normal. This was how the man I loved existed.
The bubble we had been living inside would be gone. Vaughn couldn’t create a sphere strong enough to keep his job from invading our life. I was worried. I was paranoid. I was distracted beyond reason.
How did I move forward, knowing his job was to lie? That he was plotting and scheming to take something that didn’t belong to him or Blackwing? Last time, he had stolen from the U.S. government at Greer’s expense. What was he going to take this time? Who was he going to hurt along the way? I didn’t want to know if he was confiscating military secrets or bank account numbers. It was wrong. It was the antithesis of how I lived my life.
I buried my head in my hands.
How could I tell him the doubts had surfaced? That after the most incredible week of my life, I didn’t know how to sleep at night? How could I admit to him that once we left the Bahamas, a pit in my stomach had grown until I could barely breathe? How did I tell him about the dream?
I wasn’t a psychic. I didn’t believe in pre-destined crap. I never gave palm readers my money, or even read a horoscope. But the dream seemed like a prediction of our future. I knew it was my fears playing out in my subconscious. It didn’t make it feel any less terrifying.
What if it haunted me every day? What if this was what our nights would be like? Sex that shattered me to my soul. A nightmare that claimed those shards off the sheets.
I tucked my feet under me, sitting curled like a cat. My eyes scanned the lights on the skyline. I was still in disbelief that this morning I was looking at the ocean, and now I was only miles away from Montmartre.
Yesterday was Thanksgiving. We had tropical drinks on the beach and I watched Vaughn snorkel. Today was Black Friday. I let out an involuntary huff, knowing the label seemed different now. It was my Black Friday. The day I stepped on a jet and headed toward Blackwing. Whatever or whoever in the hell that was.
“Babe, what are you doing?”
I jumped when I heard Vaughn’s voice over my shoulder. How long had he been there?
I spun to face him. “I thought you were asle
ep.”
“I was.”
“I’m sorry if I woke you.”
“Why are you up?”
“It’s the time change. Just jetlag. I can’t sleep,” I couldn’t believe I lied again.
He strolled toward me, his chiseled chest cased in shadows from the hotel suite.
The sight of his body brought everything back. I was drawn to him. Bound to him. He moved me in a way that defied logic and love. This man consumed me. He kneeled in front of the chair. The lights from the window splintered across his face.
“Why can’t you sleep? The truth this time.”
My resistance faltered. I didn’t know if I was weak for wanting him to take away the fear. Or if I was tired from trying to sort through everything myself. I didn’t want to do everything on my own anymore.
“I can’t sleep because of the dream I had,” I admitted. “It was horrible.”
“Was I in it?” he asked.
I nodded. “Yes.”
“Then tell me.” He shrugged. “Whatever it was, it was only a dream, babe.”
“It’s stupid to let something like that bother me.” I tried to brush it off. I believed the words. I was too logical and rational to fall victim to a nightmare.
“Doesn’t matter. It’s keeping you from getting sleep. And I’m up, so let’s hear it. What happened in the dream? Why did you scream like that?”
The chill seeped into my veins.
“I watched you die,” I whispered. “I saw you dead. Lifeless. It was the worst thing I’ve ever experienced.”
“Whoa.”
I didn’t think I could look at him. “It was only a dream. I know that. This is so ridiculous. I shouldn’t have told you.”
He sat on the floor, his back pressed against the wall under the windows. “Is this because of tomorrow? Because I’m going to be fine. Work has been flexible. They let me push the drop back a day so we could get settled in Paris. Everything is going to be ok. I’ve been doing this a long time now. I’m very good at my job.”
I knew exactly how good he was. He was good enough to completely deceive me and my friends. He was so good he had stolen government contracts right out from under us.
“You don’t have anything to worry about,” he assured me.
“How can you say that? How do you know that?” I spat the questions.
“I just do. This is Paris. We’re going to eat croissants and see the Eiffel Tower. I’ll take you to the art museums. The food is—”
“I don’t care about French food. I care about whether you live or die. Whether everything we have disappears tomorrow when you take your new job.”
He sighed. “I don’t know any other way to tell you. You’ll get used to it, Em. Once we get in a routine and you see how normal it can be, you won’t be worried like this. You’ll sleep again. I promise.”
“I don’t know if I’ll ever sleep again.” I shoved myself from the chair and walked to the kitchenette to pour something to drink. I wanted water, but reached from the bottle of wine instead. We had opened it after a late dinner.
“What are you doing?”
“Having a drink.” The wine sloshed in the glass.
I didn’t know if he thought I was coming off the rails, but I did. I inhaled the wine, chugging until the glass was empty.
“Feel better?” He stood in front of me.
“Maybe.”
He took the bottle from my hand and placed it out of reach. “I have a question for you, Em. A serious question. On the plane this morning, you said you were excited about Paris. Did you mean it?”
“What?” My eyes flashed to his.
“Tell me. Are you excited about our life? Because if you’ve had second thoughts, I’ll send you back to DC. You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to stay. There is nothing keeping you here. Not Blackwing. Nothing that binds you to being here. You’re still free to make that decision.
“I realize what I’ve asked of you. You’ve given up everything to be here, but it’s not too late. Almost, but not quite.” He paused. “You could be in your own bed by tomorrow. You and Greer can catch up. Call your mom and tell her you’re sorry you missed Thanksgiving. They’ll forgive you. They’ll never know you left with me. No one ever has to know that you almost gave up everything. Is that what you want?”
“You want to send me away?” I whispered. “You’re willing to do that?”
“Fuck no.” He slammed his fist on the counter. “That’s the last thing I want. But I don’t know what to do. You’re scared. You can’t sleep. You have a few days at best before all hell breaks loose at the bureau. A few days before they start to search for you and your identity is no longer your own. You are going to be a target from now on. Unless.” He sighed. “Unless you want a do-over in DC. You can still go home, Em. It’s not too late.”
“Vaughn, don’t say that.”
“My job starts tomorrow. I can’t do it if you’re half in this with me. I need complete focus. I’m good at what I do because I don’t get distracted, but if you’re miserable. If you’re terrified.” He shook his head. “I won’t be able to think straight. This is your last chance to resume your life. Your old life as Emily Charles. Is that what you want? Do you want me to let you go?”
The wine tingled through my arms until my fingertips were warm. My mouth felt dry.
I pictured what he described. I could see his offer playing out. I’d board a plane for DC. I could use my fake ID one last time and no one would ever know I had left the county. I’d land and take a cab to the brownstone I shared with Greer. I’d walk up three flights of stairs with my suitcase and come up with some lame reason for why I had to get away. Greer would understand I was still nursing a broken heart. She wouldn’t ask many questions. I would take her pity.
Agent Kenneth would want to meet after work on the same schedule he always did. He would wait outside my building after work. Pretend he cared what was going on in my life. Pretend our sessions together meant we were building a rapport. Meanwhile, I’d be drowning in grief right in front of him. But he wouldn’t see it was swallowing me whole. No, his only focus would be to hunt Vaughn. If I returned, I’d have to get better at lying, but I could see that it might be possible.
But there was a problem I wouldn’t be able to coach myself through. Once I blended into my life again, the darkness would set in. The blackness that swallowed me whole when Vaughn was gone would take me to my knees. I swore I’d never make it if he left a second time. I couldn’t survive that kind of mind-splitting agony. I didn’t want to. I wanted him. I wanted this. I’d rather live a life hidden with him than live without him in the sun.
And this meant shedding my hold on morality. This meant learning to live with guilt. This meant loving him no matter what it cost my soul. The lies and deceit were part of the package.
“No.” I shook my head. “I don’t want to go home. I never want to go home. Where you are is where I’m going to be. We talked this through in D.C. when you came back for me.” I thought about all the decisions that led me here, to this moment. How could I possibly choose to turn back now?
He pulled me against his chest and my hands wrapped around his back.
“Last chance,” he whispered.
I knew as well as he did, that the risks we had taken in the past week had already raised the stakes in our relationship. There was no going back.
“I don’t ever want to leave. I swear. I’m sorry I’m scared. I’m sorry.”
He exhaled. “Shit, Em. Don’t be sorry, just don’t scare me like that. I’m going to show you this can work. Trust me, ok?”
He tipped my chin toward his lips. His mouth brushed over mine with the kind of tenderness that sent a rush of heat down my spine.
“Let me take you back to bed.”
I nodded as he scooped me in his arms, lifting my legs from the floor. My feet dangled as he carried me to the bedroom. I felt light in his hold. As if he would protect me from all the nightmares. From the drea
ms. From reality if he had to.
“Are you all in?” He laid me on the bed. “I need to know.”
“I am. I don’t have any doubts about us. About you. I swear.”
It was true—I had no doubt this was where I wanted to be. It didn’t mean I wasn’t scared. It didn’t mean that I fast-forward the time I needed to let the bruises on my heart heal. It didn’t mean there weren’t scars so deep that Vaughn might never be able to Band-Aid me back together.
He peeled the sheets back. The bed was already cool. I didn’t know how long it had been since the nightmare first woke me. How long had we talked?
Vaughn lowered me to the covers and I curled on my side as he aligned his body behind me. With his arm across my chest, I thought I might be able to sleep this time. But after his second deep breath, I knew that wasn’t going to happen. I held on to his forearm while he slept.
I listened for sounds outside the window that I could be recognize. I counted backward. I counted forward. I played the movie game in my head. I listed the cases I had worked on in New Bern. I listed cases from DC. I named the clients alphabetically. It only seemed to make it worse.
I rolled on my back. Vaughn’s arm followed, as if it were glued to my body.
Each day since Vaughn had returned had been monumental. There was the first morning waking up together again. There was the day we escaped to the Bahamas. There were days when nothing else mattered but what we did in the bedroom of our bungalow. There was the first time I used a new identity. The first lie. The first assignment with Blackwing. Every single damn day had been an enormous test.
