Breaking His Code (Away From Keyboard Book 1)

by Patricia D. Eddy

  “Go to the police. Please. Turn yourself in. They’ll protect you and your family.” I can’t help but feel sorry for the man in front of me. Faced with an impossible situation, would I have taken a different path?

  Al backs away slowly. “I don’t have a choice. By Friday, they’ll know I failed. Again.” He chokes on his words. At his side, his free hand shakes until he balls it into a fist. “I have to get my family somewhere safe before I take that chance. Keep my secret. Please.”

  I gesture to the camera pointed directly at us. “I can’t. Oversight is live.”

  Horror widens his eyes, and his entire body tenses. “How long do I have?”

  With no hard evidence, the police would only detain him long enough to ensure his employers know he failed. Al twists his wedding ring on his finger. All I can see is his pregnant wife holding their son and crying.

  “The cameras don’t record audio. By the time I reach a phone—my cell service is really spotty back here—you’d be out of the hotel. Then the police need to show up and take my statement. Forty-five minutes?” Easing myself closer to the wall, I meet his gaze. “You didn’t mean to knock me down.”

  “Forgive me.” He rushes towards me, and I hit the wall as he careens past me, managing to only brush my shoulder lightly with his own. Using what West taught me, I control my fall, though the impact still forces a soft yelp from my lips. By the time I’m upright again, he’s gone.

  18

  CAM

  J asmine, the sweet scent wafting up from my neighbor’s patio, reminds me of my grandmother’s perfume, and I’m tipsy enough after three glasses of champagne and a shot of vodka—courtesy of the company party in celebration of our success today—to linger in my memories.

  The sting of my father’s palm and the salty tang of my tears chase the jasmine away, yet I still find myself trolling my cousin’s Facebook page for photos of Mama and Papa. When I find the latest one, the tears I’ve refused to cry since I joined the army spill onto my cheeks.

  Gray won the battle for my mother’s hair, and my papa’s in a wheelchair next to her. His smile is as bright as ever, but under the blanket spread across his lap, I spy a wasted body. Too many years between us, too many words we can’t take back. Yet, I have to try.

  Swiping at my damp cheeks, I send a message to my cousin.

  Tell Mama and Papa that I love them. Nothing will ever erase the past, and I don’t expect forgiveness. I’m asking anyway. I made a stupid mistake—even though I had good intentions. I’m more than my choices at seventeen. Going to war, having to survive on my own…I’m a different person now. I have a good life—a job I love, friends, but I miss my family.

  Love, Camilla

  After another few minutes, I claw my way out of the pool of self-pity I fell into and launch Netflix. Perhaps Doctor Who can banish my memories back where they belong. Halfway through The Eleventh Hour, my phone rings. The number’s blocked, but I answer anyway.

  Al’s voice doesn’t carry his usual timbre. “I’m standing outside of SPD, trying to work up the courage to turn myself in. I told my wife everything, and she and my son are with an old army buddy who’ll protect them. Why did you let me go?”

  I mulled that question over for hours tonight, and after seeing the photo of my parents, I might have an answer. “Do you remember the night I told you I’d made a huge mistake and don’t speak to my family anymore?”

  “You wouldn’t tell me what you did.” A siren wails over the call.

  “The details aren’t important. But…when I got blown up, before he bailed on me, Royce called my mama. She hung up on him. If someone had offered me a chance to repair my relationship with her that day, to take back what I’d done or find a way to make things right, I’d have done anything they asked. I understand desperation, Al. That’s why I joined the army in the first place. Family, too—even though I don’t have one anymore.”

  He’s silent for so long, I worry the call’s dropped. “Al?”

  “My wife hugged me before I left. Told me she loves me.” His voice cracks on the last word.

  “Everyone deserves a second chance.” Even me, though I’m not sure I’ll get one from my family or from West. “I suspect you’re a good guy at heart, Al. One bad decision doesn’t change that. I hope the police go easy on you. After all, you did the right thing, in the end.”

  The call disconnects, and I stare at the darkened screen for several minutes before exhaustion swamps me, and I fall into bed, praying I won’t dream.

  Ten years out of the army, and I still wake with the sun. After my swim, wrapped in a blanket, the mug of coffee warming my hands, I watch a ferry make its silent trek across the water. In two days, I take over Emerald City Security—at least for the next three months while Royce recovers from his surgery. He told the whole team Friday night, then insisted we all do shots with him to soften the blow. We’ve only just started to repair things between us, and now…I could lose him. I’m not ready. Not ready to lead either, but he believes in me, as do Lucas and the others.

  I had to give a speech after that shot, and I stumbled over a few words, but I told everyone to call me on my shit, then told them we were a team, and we’d get through this together. There were a few tears, mine, Orion’s, even Abby’s. Mostly, though, we laughed and hugged and toasted Royce.

  I limp back into the kitchen, contemplating breakfast, but my doorbell chimes before I pull the eggs from the fridge. This early, I’m expecting the local Girl Scout troop, so when I open the door, I stare directly into a blue t-shirt stretched over a sculpted chest I’ve dreamed about more than once in the past week.

  My gaze travels up, taking in the stubble covering his jaw, the dark circles that bruise his eyes, and the cut on his forehead half-covered by a single butterfly bandage. Though I know I should say something—anything, shock and concern steal my words.

  “Can I come in?” Emotion chokes his voice, and when I nod and step back, he moves carefully. His right arm wraps around his torso, and he sets his duffel just inside the door with a small grimace.

  The click of the latch reverberates in the silence and shocks me enough to speak. “Are you okay?”

  West seems to wrestle with his answer. “Fuck it,” he mutters and pulls me tight to his side. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”

  My eyes burn. “I was an ass. When you didn’t call, I figured you couldn’t forgive me—and I didn’t blame you one bit.”

  “Shh.” He nuzzles my hair. “We both made mistakes, angel. I never should have left you that night.”

  I slide my arms around his waist, and my fingers brush the telltale bulge of a thick bandage at the same moment that West’s entire body tenses. I draw back, then lift his shirt. A faint reddish tinge mars the white gauze tapped to his abdomen. “Shit. Come sit down.”

  West drapes his arm over my shoulders as I lead him to the couch, and though he doesn’t limp, if I had to guess by the tension in his muscles, he’s trying not to lean on me. Once we sit, we stare at one another until I can’t stand not touching him for a moment longer, and I brush the backs of my fingers against his cheek. The truth I’ve tried to ignore since he left slams into me.

  I’m falling in love with this man.

  He shifts so I can fit myself to his side, and as he rests his cheek against the top of my head, he inhales deeply and a small shudder ripples through him.

  “Where the hell did you go after you left me? To take up back alley street fighting?” I want to run my hands over his chest, his arms, his back, checking him for more injuries, but I fear I’ll hurt him, so I settle for carefully laying a hand on his thigh.

  “Do you know what K&R is?”

  “Kidnap and ransom. I had a couple of buddies who talked about getting into that shit after their tours. I don’t think they ever did, though. Dangerous work.”

  “A year before I left the SEALs, we were sent to rescue a high-value target who’d been held hostage for over a year in Hell Mountain. The
son of a bitch escaped six hours before we could get to him, but they’d tortured him within an inch of his life, and we found him bleeding out in a cave three clicks away. We spent too long stabilizing him, and the insurgents surrounded us. All the other guys—including Ryker—thought we were done for, but I found a way out. Ryker never forgot that. When he needed a new infiltration specialist for his K&R firm, he came to me. I turned him down not long after we started dating.”

  “You never mentioned him.” I can’t keep the hurt from my voice, though I have my own secrets that threaten to tear us apart.

  He sighs. “I never thought I’d see him again. But then I couldn’t afford the insurance for the kids program. The things I want to do, Cam…I can make a real difference. One job for Ryker—three days, max—covers my expenses for two months.” Anguish paints his features, and he tries to pull away, but my small couch leaves him little room. “A small group of guerrillas kidnapped the son of the Colombian president. The kid’s only twenty-three. The night we fought…I’d met with Ryker’s team and agreed to help them.”

  “Agreed? You looked like you’d been in a fight.” He looks surprised, and my shame skyrockets. “I noticed. But I couldn’t see my way past my own issues.” Twining our fingers, I meet his gaze. “That’s what you were trying to tell me that night.”

  “The job should have been a cakewalk, but I still didn’t want to leave without telling you…” He shakes his head. “Then our communications guy fucked up and let the snipers get a bead on us. Only the second time in my life I’ve been shot.”

  He chuckles weakly, but I feel the blood drain from my cheeks. “How bad?”

  “Bad enough that Ryker carried my ass out of the jungle, and I ended up unconscious in an illegal Bogota med clinic for two days. I was lucky Ryker and I share the same blood type. Coop didn’t live long enough to get out of the compound. As soon as I could walk, Ryker got us on the first transport back to Seattle. We landed less than an hour ago.” His fingers are cool as he takes my hands. “Angel, I thought I was going to die. The doc said I came damn close. And all I could think about was how we’d left things.”

  I don’t think I can speak around the lump in my throat, but I cup the back of his neck, leaning forward so our lips are inches apart. “I don’t deserve you, West. But so much has happened since that night. Please, forgive me. Tell me you’ll give us another chance.”

  His lips brush mine, and I melt into his embrace, careful of his wounds. His tongue gently teases the seam of my lips, and I part for this man I’m falling in love with, savoring the rasp of his stubble against my cheek, the hard muscles under my palms, and the growing arousal straining his Levi’s. I’m half in his lap now, and his fingers tangle in my hair. With a light twist, he urges my head back to meet his gaze.

  Eyes the color of the bluest summer sky shimmer slightly with his words. “I love you, Cam. I passed out begging Ryker to find you and tell you, afraid I wouldn’t wake up again. But…love requires trust, and trust works both ways.”

  “I know.” Still reeling from knowing how close I came to losing him, I rest my head on his chest, letting the steady beat of his heart calm me. “When I got blown up, Royce blamed himself. He put out the fire eating through my suit, got a tourniquet around my leg, and held my hand as I screamed for what felt like hours waiting for the MediVac to show. And then he disappeared.”

  A single tear soaks into the soft blue cotton. My life story unfolds as West holds me close.

  “When I was fifteen, my father lost his job, and my grandmother came to live with us. We didn’t have any money, but I was smart, and the honors program at my high school gave me a computer. Part of a fund to get more minority girls interested in science, computers, and math. They signed me up for a college-level programming class, and to meet with my professor, I needed a webcam.”

  I wipe my hands on my thighs, unprepared for the nerves that seem certain to send me over the edge. “I told my parents I was doing medical transcription at night to help pay the bills. But really, I put on a bikini and danced for men.” A laugh escapes, too high and thin to be anything other than hysterical. “After the first six months, I’d saved enough to pay for almost anything I wanted. Including a collapsible pole I hid under my bed.”

  I risk a glance at West. If he’s horrified, I can’t tell, so I rush to tell him the rest. “By seventeen, I had a full college fund my parents didn’t know about. But a month before graduation, Nana broke her hip. I couldn’t hear my mother knocking on the door, so she had my father break the lock. The look on his face… The day after I graduated, Papa told me I had a month to move out. I’d brought too much shame to the family to stay.”

  West balls his hands into fists. “You were seventeen.”

  “I was an adult in his eyes. If I could do adult things, I could support myself. I’d been accepted to Stanford, but college didn’t mean a thing without my family. Papa always said how honorable it was to serve your country. So I asked for a deferral on my admission, and I enlisted on my eighteenth birthday. Two days before his deadline.”

  He swears when I tell him my mother wouldn’t even speak to me when I thought I was going to lose my leg, rubs my back when I talk about Lucas, and tightens his embrace when I recall the day Royce told me about his tumor.

  “My life has been one big broken promise, West. I learned early on to guard my heart, to trust no one, and then I met you.” Angling my head so he can see the truth in my eyes, I take a deep breath. “No one has ever understood me like you do. I’m sorry I couldn’t see that until now.”

  I straddle him, careful to avoid the bullet wound, and cup his cheeks. “I spent every night we were apart wishing I could talk to you, wishing I had talked to you. I won’t make that mistake again.”

  I seal my words with a tender kiss, and when our lips part, he brushes a lock of hair away from my cheek. “I won’t let you. You’re it for me, angel. My life never flashed before my eyes when I was bleeding out in the jungle. I only saw you. I lived for you.”

  My heart skips a beat as I stare at this man I don’t ever want to be without. “I love you, West. That’s a promise.”

  19

  WEST

  Her soft breath tickles my cheek. The sheet does little to hide the gentle swell of her breasts, the curve of her hip. We covered two lifetimes of secrets in a single day, fueled by pizza, beer, and painkillers. Now, the light of the moon casts my angel’s face in a pale glow, and I’ve never felt so content.

  The doc in Bogota warned me against getting on the plane, but once I’d regained consciousness and realized I’d been out for two days, nothing could keep me down.

  Cam whimpers in her sleep. The bandage sticks to my skin as I stroke my hand down her arm. “I’m here, angel. You’re safe.”

  I watch her until I’m sure she’s settled, then stifle my groan as I swing my legs over the side of the bed. This is going to hurt. Standing leads to a wave of dizziness, but I breathe through the pain and stumble out to Cam’s living room to retrieve my duffel.

  With fresh bandages in my hand, I make my way to the bathroom, and once I’m shut inside, I peel off the bloody gauze.

  Better than I’d feared. Only one stitch threatens to pop, and while the wound oozes, the antibiotics the doc forced on me seem to be working.

  “Let me help.” Cam slips into the bathroom, her gaze locked on mine. “You should have listened to your doctor.”

  “Pretty sure he was a veterinarian.”

  Her mouth forms a sexy little “o” as she eases the bandage from my hands. “And you’re going out on one of these missions again?”

  “Ryker spent fourteen months in the hands of some of the worst men in the world. Now, he wants to save others from the same fate. I can help him. I…don’t know what I’ll do the next time he calls, but I won’t make that decision without you.”

  With a gentle touch, she presses the fresh bandage to my side, and her naked breasts brush my arm. My cock stirs, reminding me just how
long I’ve waited to taste her.

  “Easy there, soldier. You’re in no condition for extracurricular activities.” Cam grins at me in the mirror, but when I stroke my hand down her flat stomach to the curls that cover her mound, she shivers.

  Her arousal coats my fingers as I continue my slow exploration, dipping inside her once, twice. As I stroke her clit, her knees buckle, and I brace her against the counter so I can scrape my teeth over one peaked nipple.

  “Fuck, Cam. I dreamed of this when I was barely able to remember my own name in that filthy shack on the edge of Bogota.” Dropping to my knees, I worship the tiny bud at the apex of her thighs, leaving her panting and desperate by the time I pull away. “Bed. Now.”

  “Uh huh. You’ll…pay for this…later.”

  I probably will. Do I care? Hell no. The sight of her toned ass is all I need to invigorate me and make me forget the pain as I follow her, and we collapse on the bed together.

  She stops me when I kneel between her thighs. “Inside me. Now.”

  Those lifetimes of secrets we shared? She’s on the pill, and we’re both clean, so I don’t hesitate, nudging her entrance with the head of my cock. As she angles her hips, I slide home, and her inner walls grip me so hard, I have to grit my teeth so I don’t lose control.

  “You’re so fucking perfect, Cam.”

  In the soft light, her eyes shine. “Make me come, West. Make me yours.”

  “Oh, you’re mine, angel.” I thrust hard, and she whimpers in pleasure. As I work my hips, she rakes her nails down my back. “I love you,” I manage as my balls tighten and the world starts to shimmer around us.

  “West!” She implodes as I reach down and massage her clit, and I lose control so I can tumble over the edge with her.