"And/or blame her for what happened," he said. "She is carrying a ton of guilt."
"I don't blame her or Mark for the kidnapping. That had nothing to do with them. The Jansens have given Hayley a great life. She has the family I always wanted for her. I just can't believe that she ended up in Chicago. I thought I was doing everything I could to keep my child out of Johnny's orbit. That's why I lived in Detroit, of all places. What was the point of me going there if they were going to give my child to someone in Chicago?"
"I don't know. Maybe the money was right. I'd like to know what Mark and Lindsay paid for that adoption."
"Ten thousand dollars," she said. "To a now defunct agency. I looked it up. But I'm guessing there was an additional cash payment that was not recorded."
"Probably."
She let out a sigh. "I've been keeping myself sane by telling myself that Johnny wouldn't hurt his own child. Family and blood are everything to him."
"I've been telling myself that, too. I also don’t think he would feel a need to hurt Emma," he said, bringing up the little girl from the train. "I know you have been worried about her, but I think she's probably someone in the neighborhood, who was happy to make some extra cash. Her older sister might have put her up to it."
"It's possible."
"So, do you want to fill me in on what happened on your end?"
"A million questions. I answered many of them several times. The FBI and the police are working hard to track Calvin Baker's whereabouts over the past several months. He disappeared from his apartment last week. Detective Benedict, who works in organized crime, assured my colleague, Agent Cox, that Baker has no ties to Johnny Hawke's operation."
"But you don't believe him?"
"No. And I think Benedict is still on the Hawke's payroll."
"Good chance. I talked to Benedict, too. It was right after you left, so it was before he knew anything about Hayley being your daughter. His questions to me were about Mark leaving the house, our actions at the silos, whether Mark said anything to me before he was taken to the hospital. I think he wanted to know if Mark knew who the kidnappers were, and if he'd shared that information with me."
"I hope you said no."
"I did, because it was the truth. He didn't tell me anything. He just said he was sorry he'd done what he did."
"Did Benedict ask you anything about me?"
"Yes. He was aware that you'd grown up in Chicago, that you and I were friends in our youth, and that Kyle had filed a complaint against you."
She raised an eyebrow. "That's a lot of information for a detective from organized crime to have, especially since he had just come on the case."
"I thought so, too. I told him we reconnected when you came to interview my niece."
"Did he mention my relationship with Johnny?"
"He did not, and I didn't bring it up."
"Thanks for that."
"No problem. My impression of Benedict is that he's slick and smart. I don't like the timing of his entrance into the case, and I don't think we should underestimate him."
"I agree. I'm sure the bureau will share my relationship to Johnny with the police and with Benedict."
"And he'll tell Johnny."
"If he doesn't, the bureau probably will. They're going to interview him tonight."
"Without you?"
She nodded, anger in her eyes. "They think I would be emotionally compromised."
"I know you hate that idea, but it's probably true."
Her mouth tightened. "Maybe it is. I can't say that I'm not personally invested in the outcome of this case. Hayley is my daughter—my daughter," she emphasized, as if she were still trying to believe it.
"And you love her. That's why you're compromised. You'd do anything to get her back."
"I would," she admitted. "I'd even talk to Johnny."
"He's not going to be surprised when the FBI tell him about Hayley and their belief that she is his daughter with you. He already knows. He's not in the dark on this, Bree. He can't be. Baker had to be working for Johnny. I don't care what Benedict said. We know their past relationship. We were there."
She nodded. "I'm not arguing with you."
"That's a change. Usually, when Johnny is in the conversation, things get heated."
She made a face at him. "I'm not defending Johnny. And I'm not scared of him anymore. If I have to go through him to get to Hayley, I will."
He saw the steel determination in her eyes and had no doubt about that. "Any more photos come in?"
"Not since the third one. The agency let me keep the phone, because it's the only connection we have to the kidnapper." She paused. "I did, however, disable the GPS before I came here."
"So, they don't know where you are?"
"They could do some call triangulating if I get on the phone, but for the moment, I feel free. Not that they probably couldn't just guess I'm with you," she said with a wry smile. "But I need a little time to regroup, and it felt like I was taking back a bit of my power when I disabled the GPS. Silly, huh?"
"Completely understandable. While you're regrouping, do you feel like eating? I picked up some Chinese on my way home from the hospital."
"Chow mein and chicken fried rice?"
"You know it," he said, smiling as she named her long-time favorites. "Mongolian beef and potstickers, too."
"That sounds awesome, but right now I'm enjoying the fresh air. Maybe in a few minutes?"
"Sure. We'll have to heat it up anyway."
"You're being so great, Nathan. I didn't have a chance to say that earlier, but the way you handled yourself at the silos, taking care of Mark, dealing with the police, and then supporting me with Lindsay at the hospital. The past few days, you've listened to me ramble on and on about every new theory that comes into my head. You've gone above and beyond, and I feel a little guilty at how entangled you are in all this."
"Don't worry about me. I want to find Hayley—for her, for you, for the Jansens, for Josie, and for Grace, whose heart is still breaking for her friend." He took a breath. "I also want to help you, Bree. You don't deserve the gaslight treatment you've been getting. I want to help you find whoever is threatening you and make them stop."
"Thanks. It feels good to talk to you, Nathan. You always make things seem manageable. I was working myself into a lather on the way over here, furious with my agency for treating me like a criminal, irritated with myself for not handling the situation at the silos better, being unable to figure out the kidnapper is tied to Johnny, and being led astray by Emma instead of realizing that Hayley is my daughter until today. You saw it yesterday."
"Only because you couldn't bear the idea that your daughter had been kidnapped. Emma was a safer choice. You saw her as being okay, being part of a con, not being held captive."
"I guess. I know there is more coming Nathan. I told the agency that the game isn't over. He has more plays, and I need to be able to act. But they've taken me off the investigation. I can't even use agency resources anymore. They cut off my access, took away my security clearance. Because I'm the biological mother of the kidnap victim, I'm vulnerable to blackmail. I understand it, but I feel isolated, angry, frustrated and overwhelmed."
He could see that she was quickly working herself into another lather. "You can't do anything but live in this moment, Bree. You can't stop the thunder. You just have to let it roll over you. And then when it's done, you get up and keep going."
A smile suddenly spread across her lips. "Oh, my God. You just gave me a Nathanism."
"I'm afraid to ask what that is," he said warily.
"You used to have all these sayings that would make me and Josie feel better. We called them Nathanisms. You said that one about the thunder when we were at the shelter. I remember huddling with you and Josie in the downstairs room when the lights went off, and thunder was rocking the building. You sat between me and Josie, and you held our hands, and said, 'We'll get through this. We'll be okay. Just let the thunder roll ove
r us and go on its way.'"
"I don't remember that," he lied, some self-protective instinct kicking in. In truth, that was the first night he'd ever held her hand, and he'd never been able to forget it.
"Well, I do. You were good for me. For a while, I was good for you, too."
"More than awhile. And we'll get through this round of thunder as well. You may not be officially on the case anymore, but I know that isn't going to stop you from working it, and I'll be there to help you. Tomorrow we'll get back on it. Or before tomorrow, if you get another clue."
"It seems to be taking a long time. I don't know if the kidnapper got put off their game because of what happened at the silos, but it's been hours since I received that third photo. Where's the next one?"
"Maybe they're afraid you're getting too close."
"Or they just want to drive me crazy for a while longer."
"You still don't want to call the kidnapper, Johnny, do you?"
"I know there were two people at the silos, and I'm guessing someone was left behind with Hayley, so right now I have to say they. Maybe Johnny is in charge, but I don't know if he's the actual kidnapper. I can't see him going into Hayley's school and grabbing her."
"No. That sounds like a job for one of his minions. He would have been somewhere else that night, with a perfect alibi ready to go."
She frowned but didn't say anything, turning her gaze back to the view.
He didn't know where she'd gone in her head, but from the set of her jaw, he could see it was nowhere pleasant. "You may be getting pulled back into the dark past, Bree, but you won't go under, you won't get trapped there. You won't let that happen and I won't let that happen. We're strong now. Stronger than we've ever been, and stronger because we're together. Johnny is no match for us. I don't care how big his army is now."
She turned her head, her tension easing. "You're right. And we don't just have each other. My agency may not be thrilled with me, but they will be there if we need them." She paused. "Do you mind if I hang out here? I don't want to go back to my hotel."
"I want you to stay. I was actually going to insist on it."
"Okay then. I'll stay."
As their gazes clung together, the air between them started to crackle and sizzle. He knew he should say something, but he had no idea what. And Bree, likewise, seemed to be suddenly speechless.
Thirty-five floors up, and he wasn't scared of falling over the rail; he was scared of falling into her.
He could feel the tug between them, the relentless pressure of desire and need that had gone unfulfilled for so many years. This wasn't the right time or the right place, but then what was?
In the past, he'd walked away from so many moments like this, and he'd always regretted it. He didn't want any more regrets, no more missed opportunities.
"Nathan?" she whispered, her voice like a soft song on the wind.
Was it a plea or a question?
"I want you, Bree." There it was—right on the table, out in the light, words for her to stomp on or to embrace. He couldn't quite believe he'd said the words aloud after so many years of keeping them to himself.
Her green eyes darkened, and her lips parted, but it seemed to take forever for her to say something.
Would it be worth the wait?
"I want you, too," she said.
Definitely worth the wait.
He swallowed hard, not sure he'd heard her right, but her green gaze was gleaming in the moonlight. He bridged the distance between them, framing her head with his hands, his fingers sliding into the silky strands of her brown hair, his thumbs brushing the soft skin of her cheeks. Her lips parted, her breath a cloud of sexy heat in the cold night air.
He lowered his head, taking his time, wanting to savor every moment, because who knew if it would ever happen again?
When his lips covered hers, a wave of delicious warmth enveloped him. Everything else faded into the night—the lights, the traffic, the city. It was just the two of them, and that's really all he'd ever wanted.
She opened her mouth and invited him inside with an impatient sweetness that put him over the edge.
Bree had always been impatient to get what she wanted. She'd never been methodical or plodding; she'd always dived in—head first. And he'd always thought twice before he followed—if he followed.
But he wasn't following her now. And neither was he leading.
It was give and take, push and pull, one kiss blending into the next.
His hands moved through her hair, resting on her shoulders and then running down her arms to her hands. His fingers curled around hers as their mouths met again. It was the perfect kiss, the perfect touch, the perfection connection.
He didn't feel the chill of the night anymore.
He didn't feel the cold of his life anymore.
He just felt her.
Her mouth. Her hands. His Bree.
Maybe it wouldn't be forever. Maybe it wouldn't last until tomorrow. But he'd take what she was willing to give.
"Inside," he murmured against her mouth, pulling her back into his apartment, and closing the door behind them.
She took off her coat and tossed it over a nearby chair. Her gun and badge moved onto the coffee table, and then she went to work on the buttons of her blouse. He felt as if she wasn't just stripping herself of her clothes: she was stripping herself of the pressures and trappings of her life.
As she slipped her blouse off, he became entranced by the sheer white lacy silk of her bra. She might look all business on the outside, but on the inside…
"You're falling behind, Nathan," she said, a playful light in her eyes. "Just like that strip poker game we once played. I was down to my panties while you had only lost your shirt."
"That's because you were not very good at poker. Your excitement at getting a good hand always gave you away. You have very expressive eyes."
She made a face at him. "So, you were a better poker player. What's your excuse tonight?"
"I'm enjoying the show," he said, as she shimmied out of her black slacks, revealing a matching white lace thong and slender bare legs that he wouldn't mind having wrapped around his waist.
Despite his words, he was done watching. He moved forward, taking another kiss, as his hands cupped her sweet ass. And then she was doing just what he'd wanted, throwing her arms around his neck and wrapping her legs around his waist as he carried her into the bedroom.
He tossed her onto the mattress, then made quick work of his clothes while she took off her lacy lingerie.
Seeing her naked, in his bed, waiting for him, with her gorgeous brown hair spread across his pillow, her green eyes so intent and passionate almost stopped his heart.
"God, Bree," he murmured. "You're amazing."
"Get down here, and I'll show you how amazing I can be."
"We're really doing this," he muttered, still in a little disbelief.
"Oh, we're doing it, Nathan," she said, pulling him on top of her. "Kiss me already. I feel like I've been waiting forever."
He felt exactly the same way.
Fourteen
Being with Nathan had been surprising and hot and really, really satisfying, Bree thought, as she snuggled against his side, her head on his shoulder, her arm across his waist, her leg over his.
She hadn't really known what to expect. Nathan had been many things to her. He'd been the kind, sweet, imaginative boy who had protected her and made her feel safe. He'd also been the fun, attractive teenager, who all the girls had wanted, but he'd still hung out with her. And then he'd been the brooding, mysterious, scowling man who seemed to disapprove of everything she did. And that had been the early years…
When she'd returned to Chicago a few days ago, he'd been angry and resistant, but then he'd gotten tangled up in her life and her problems, and he'd been a friend again, someone to lean on, someone to talk to, someone to trust…
Now, he was her lover.
She shivered at the memories of his hands on her bod
y, his mouth on her lips and her breasts…his whispered words of passion as they moved together in perfect sync.
They hadn't always been on the same page, but tonight they'd both wanted the same thing—they'd wanted everything.
She hadn't felt so connected to anyone in a long time—if ever.
It was almost shocking to think it was Nathan who had made her feel so complete.
And yet it also made sense.
He'd always been able to read her. He'd always known what she wanted.
She'd had a lot more trouble figuring him out, but not tonight—tonight hadn't been about the past, but the present, the now…and the now had been wonderful.
Her stomach suddenly rumbled, and she felt a wave of embarrassment when Nathan laughed.
Lifting her head, she looked into his smiling eyes, feeling a bit smug that he was so happy, and it was because of her. "I think I'm ready for that Chinese food."
"I'll get it just as soon as I can move again," he drawled. "That was something else, Bree."
"We were very good together. I want to do it again and again and again," she said, playfully poking his chest with each repeat of the word again.
"Sounds like an excellent plan."
"But first…"
He groaned. "Food?"
She nodded and got off the bed, smiling to herself as Nathan gave her bare ass a little whistle of appreciation.
After using the bathroom, she wrapped herself up in Nathan's soft dark-green robe and joined him in the kitchen.
He'd put on his boxer briefs and jeans but thankfully he'd left his shirt off. She moved up behind him as he opened the refrigerator and wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing a kiss on his back. "I'm glad you left your chest bare. I like a view while I'm eating."
He turned around in her arms. "I like a view, too. Maybe you should take off this robe."
"Not a chance. I know what will happen then, and I want my noodles."
He laughed and handed her a container. "I'll get us some plates, and we can heat everything up."
She opened the carton he'd given her. "I like it cold. And I'm too hungry to wait."
"You've reminded me several times tonight of how impatient you can be," he said with a wicked smile.
Reckless Whisper KO PL B Page 16
