by Mandy Harbin
She was at Brody’s house in record time. As she stalked up to his door with the picture in hand, she remembered the last time she’d surprised him at his door, which he’d returned the favor by shoving a gun in her face. And why did he have a gun if he was just a mechanic? God, the signs were just adding up. She wished she could attribute her gullibility to her inexperience with men, but the truth was she’d lived a very cautious life.
There was no excuse.
She knocked on the door and braced herself with a steadying breath and a mental pep talk. She soon realized neither worked when she heard his heavy footfalls inside the house.
The door swung open, and Brody’s sleep-tussled hair caressed his face like a lover. His drowsy eyes became alert as he took her in. Then he reached for her.
“Baby? Is everything all right? Where’s Scott?” The concern in his voice did her in, and the momentary anger she was clinging to dissolved into another sob. “Sweetheart, you’re scaring me.” He pulled her into his house and shut the door, not letting her go.
But she pushed him away. Startled, he eased away from her.
“Xan?” His tone was reproachful, and that was just what she needed to cut through her devastation and grasp on to a spark of anger.
She pulled the picture up with both hands, showing him. “Care to explain this?” He gasped, stepping closer, but she backed away. “Stay where you are.” She shoved her hand in her purse and pulled out her gun. Brody was as big as a fucking house. There was no way she could get away from him if he restrained her, so she had to protect herself as best she could. But as he stared wide-eyed at her, she was beginning to realize how incredibly stupid she was being. She’d been given direct orders to stay and here she was standing in front of the enemy. Really, what was she thinking? When she got a taste of stupidity she really lapped that shit up.
The look in Brody’s eyes went from concern to his own form of devastation. But why? More games? She didn’t know, but she wasn’t leaving here until she got some answers.
No matter how much they were going to hurt her.
Shit, shit, shit, shit! This was bad. When Hunter had called him to say Xan had left her house and was headed in his direction, he had no idea it was going to be about this. He should’ve told Xan about his past and the possibility of his involvement with Marco when he’d had the chance. But he’d hoped to gain irrefutable evidence that either pinned him to Tessie’s murder or proof that it wasn’t him. Yeah, he could’ve just told Xan about everything and let her judge for herself, but he was just too chicken-shit to do it. And now here she was standing in his living room with wet, swollen eyes, tear streaks down her face, clutching a pretty damning photo with a piece aimed at his chest.
For weeks he’d hoped what Colonel told him about killing Xan’s daughter was a lie, and he, Gage and Blade had investigated other possible scenarios, hoping that some other thug had done the deed. And here she was holding the fucking smoking gun. Now there was no mistaking his connection to Marco. He’d be sick if he wasn’t standing before the woman he loved, watching her heart break, knowing it was all his fault.
Fuck.
He slowly dropped his outreached hands and backed away, taking a seat on the couch. He propped his elbows on his knees and buried his face in his hands.
How the hell was he supposed to start explaining? Jesus, this hurt. “Why don’t you sit down? This could take a while.”
“I’d rather stand.”
His head popped up at her shaky voice. She sounded as if she were about to collapse, but she was putting on a brave front, standing with her feet apart, weapon trained on him with one hand and clutching that picture with the other. “Please,” he begged, looking into her eyes with what he hoped was a nonthreatening look while motioning for her to sit. “I’m not going to hurt you. I won’t even touch you. I lo—I, um,” he cleared his throat, “it’s a long story, baby. I promise to tell you everything.”
She looked as if she didn’t trust him as far as she could throw him, and that fucking hurt too. But he waited patiently. He wanted to find out where she got that picture, but he knew he had no right to demand anything from her. She needed answers first and he had to find the words to give them to her.
Slowly, as if she were afraid she’d spook him, she crept over to the opposite end of the couch and perched on the edge. Her poor little knuckles were white from fisting the objects she held, and he had to fight the urge to grab her hands and massage the tension away. She was keeping her distance and using a weapon to protect herself. The last thing he wanted to do was make her feel any more threatened than she already did.
“What I told you about my amnesia is true. But what I didn’t tell you is that I’d remembered you from somewhere. I have these little glimpses of memories, flashes of you I couldn’t explain. You see, Colonel did some digging into my past and found some things out that I’m not very proud of.”
“Like what?”
He sighed, rubbed his hands over his face and leaned back into the sofa. “Like I was a contract killer.”
She stiffened, but thankfully didn’t bolt. Brody didn’t want to have to stop her if she tried leaving, but he needed to tell her everything. He couldn’t afford for her to leave without telling her what he could.
“I don’t know much about that. Like I said, I have no memories of that life, so I’ve been living my life like that never happened. But those ingrained skills do come in handy with my work.”
“Your work? You’re a mechanic, Brutus. You don’t need to know how to kill someone.
“Please don’t call me that. I—”
“I’ll call you whatever the hell I want,” she gritted out. “Now explain what you mean.”
“Fair enough,” he sighed. “I mean, we do side projects. I led you to believe those projects were related to the garage, but they’re not, not usually anyway. We take on missions from private and government clients, doin’ jobs they either don’t want to do themselves or can’t. I’m not allowed to tell you anything specific, but I will tell you that you were an assignment. At first. That and the fact that I had memories of you were the reasons why I tried to avoid you in the beginning. We were hired to protect you since Marco was up for parole.”
The color drained out of her face. “The FBI hired you?”
“Shit, Xan, I’m not allowed to talk about this.” If Colonel knew Brody was spilling their secrets he’d have his ass. But this was Xan, and he’d answer whatever he could. “But yeah, we have contacts with the FBI.”
“So you knew about my husband coming after me?”
“Ex-husband. And we don’t know that. It was my understanding we were hired just to watch over you. I don’t think the FBI knew for a fact Collins was coming for you. But why wouldn’t he? I guess they didn’t have concrete proof at the time, so they did what they could to keep you safe. But I don’t know. I didn’t ask questions. Just did what I was told.”
“And what were you told?”
She wasn’t making this easy on him. “You and Scott were to be watched 24/7, but I was told to stick close to you. In the beginning, I staked out your place, followed you around.” He averted his eyes. “Later, I didn’t have to be so covert to watch out for you.”
“No wonder you weren’t shocked when I opened myself up to you and told you about my past. You already knew. God, I’m such a fucking idiot.”
“No, I mean, yes, I knew, but no, you’re not an idiot, baby.” He shifted a little closer to her. “I had a job to do, but I was attracted to you from the very beginning. Once we became involved, the line between my job and my love life became very blurry. Yours and Scott’s safety became a very personal issue for me.”
“Then why not tell me? Because you knew me from somewhere and were ashamed of your past? Damn you, Brody! I told you I was beaten and raped by the man you’re buddy-buddy with in that picture. How do you expect me to feel about that?”
“After we became involved, I learned of a possible connection to Col
lins, and I’ve been investigating it. Until you brought this picture here, I haven’t been able to find anything concrete linking me to him.”
“Why would you? If you were a killer working for him, I’m sure you didn’t leave a bunch of evidence lying around. You should have told me this. Why bother trying to verify it first?” she yelled, jumping to her feet, and Brody jumped up too.
“Because I love you, and it scares the shit out of me that I could’ve done something to hurt you!”
She stared back at him, working her mouth as if she were trying to speak. “You love me?”
Oh shit. He hadn’t meant to blurt that out. He’d been trying to keep a lid on his feelings until he knew he was free to love her without worrying if he was the one who’d killed her daughter. Up until she’d shown up here with that photo, he was starting to believe that maybe Colonel had gotten his information wrong—their intel wasn’t always foolproof when dealing with unsavory characters—and that the baby had actually died of SIDS. He took a step toward her. “Yes, I—”
“Don’t.” She lifted her gun to halt his progression and took a step back. “Just stay where you are. I-I need to think about this.”
Instead of retreating, he sat on the couch where he’d been standing. If she sat back down, at least they’d be a little closer. He steepled his hands over his mouth and watched her, waiting. He knew this was a lot for her to take in and he had to give her time, but he’d give anything to be able to pull her into his arms without her freaking out.
“Let me make sure I’m clear here. You work with the FBI, but you were a contract killer who worked for my ex-husband. And you expect me to believe that you had no idea who I was when I moved to town?”
“I didn’t say that. I said I didn’t know of my possible connection to Collins until after we became involved. The moment I saw you, I recognized you from somewhere but couldn’t place you. I was informed of our responsibility to watch out for you the Monday after we met.”
“I see. And what are you not telling me?” Her eyes narrowed.
Oh fuck. He swallowed. “I, er, Colonel told me something about our past I’ve been trying to confirm one way or the other.” He shut his eyes because he just couldn’t look at her and see the disgust on her face when he spilled the rest of this. “He, um, told me I knew you because Collins had hired me to kill your kid.”
She gasped and his eyes flew open. “What the fuck? Marco wanted Scott dead?” She backed away, shaking her head. “Why? He wanted a son to begin with. Th-that doesn’t make sense.”
“Not Scott,” he breathed.
Xan’s brow furrowed in confusion, then her eyes slowly opened wide as the color drained from her face and she wobbled on her feet. He started to get up, but she grasped the side of the couch, dropping that photo. “No.” She shook her head. “She, she died of SIDS. I-I saw the autopsy report.” Her voice cracked as she fought not to cry.
“Xan.” He stood slowly.
Her trembling hand covered her mouth and she whispered, “Are you telling me you killed my baby?”
That was it. He couldn’t take it anymore. He stepped over to her and clutched her arms. “I don’t know. God, Xan, I don’t know. After I found out, I tried staying away from you, but I couldn’t. And I’ve been doing my damnedest to find some answers. I don’t want it to be true.”
And then she wailed—a sound that’d haunt him until the day he died—and beat her weak little fist against his chest as she screamed and cried. The force of her blows not enough to hurt him physically, but he felt each strike clear to his soul. And because she didn’t try to pull away from him, Brody held on to her arms and let her take out her pain on him.
“I’m sorry, so sorry,” he murmured over and over, and she finally stopped her assault and collapsed into his arms, bawling. He held her and stroked her hair, whispering his apologies over and over. Long moments later, she finally relaxed into his embrace, and he squeezed her tighter. He’d give anything to take her pain way.
Then she seemed to remember what he was apologizing for because she pushed him away and took several steps back, heading for the door. “Stay the hell away from me,” she croaked as she waved her gun at him. “Don’t come to my house, don’t call me, don’t you fucking drive down my road.”
He followed her. “Xan, you have every right to be—”
“Don’t say another word! You killed my baby. You. The man I…the man I’ve been sleeping with. You better pray we don’t run into each other again because I’ll kill you. And that’s not some idle threat.”
She stomped out of his house, slammed the door and fired up that rusty old car of hers, and he just sat back down and stared at the floor where the photo of him and Collins had landed. He bent over and picked it up, staring at it with burning eyes. He blinked a few times and felt a suspicious wetness trail down his cheek. The last time he’d cried he was drunk off his ass.
Now he just had a hole in his chest.
He took a deep breath. He knew his relationship with Xan was going to end sometime and he couldn’t dwell on what he’d lost because he still had a job to do. The fact his heart was splitting didn’t matter. He couldn’t do anything for her if he let his emotions consume him. Clearing his throat, Brody got up and grabbed his phone. He dialed first Blade and then Gage, asking them both to meet him at Colonel’s house. They were both grumpy being woken up so early, but neither complained about helping him. He had a major problem to contend with and he needed help. Someone had left a photo where Xan could find it, and the reason could not be good—either Collins’ men were closing in on her or someone wanted her to think that.
It was time to bring the boss man up to speed.
* * * * *
“Jesus, Brody, you do know what time it is, don’t you? What if I was curled up next to a lovely lady all nice and sweet-like in my bed?” Blade asked, sipping his coffee as he leaned against his truck parked outside of Colonel’s house.
Brody could’ve retorted with some macho comeback about how Blade never brought women home, but he wasn’t in the mood for banter. Instead he shut his truck door and walked toward Blade. “I called Colonel on the way over here. He’s expecting us,” Brody said as Gage pulled in behind him. Thankfully, Gage just nodded without bitching about the hour, and they all walked up to Colonel’s door. He opened it before they got a chance to knock.
“If y’all are done pussyfooting around out there, get in here and tell me what’s so damn important it couldn’t wait.”
Colonel didn’t wait for a response. He turned and stalked toward his living room, and Brody and the other guys followed. After Colonel served up some coffee and they all took seats, Brody brought Colonel up to speed on everything. His research into Xan’s past agents and any possible people who’d sell her out to Collins, leaving out the two undercover agents who’d already been excluded—no need to divulge that information. Colonel sat quietly, listening, but Brody could tell his lack of comments wasn’t a good sign. Oh yeah, Colonel was definitely not happy.
“Why am I just now finding out about this?” he exploded.
“Because we haven’t found anything conclusive on Jeff Coleman or Dave Simmons,” Brody said. “Plus Dale Adams is still lurking around, and we don’t know how he fits into this either.”
Colonel let rip a litany of curses as he stood and paced, and Brody waited him out. No need to piss his boss off even more. Finally, he faced Brody. “Why’d you tell me now? If you’ve been keeping this from me then something must’ve changed for you to be singing like a little fuckin’ bird all of the sudden.”
Brody reached behind him and pulled out an envelope he’d stuffed in the back of his jeans and under his shirt. Then he handed it to his boss. “Someone sent this to Xan or left it for her where she’d find it. I’m not sure. I didn’t get a chance to ask.”
Colonel yanked the photo away from Brody and scowled. “I see.”
“What is it?” Blade asked, bobbing his head to the side to get a look.
Colonel passed it to Blade. “A picture of Brutus with Marco Collins.”
“What?” Blade’s eyes got twice as big as he took the photo. “No fuckin’ way,” he breathed.
Gage whistled. “Not good, man,” he said as he leaned over and looked at the picture while Blade held on to it.
“I know,” Brody sighed, glancing back at Colonel. “You see the problem here? Either Collins is on to her or someone wants her to think he is.”
“Or someone is really handy dandy with Photoshop, man, and wants to cause you some trouble,” Blade said.
“Doubtful,” Gage argued. “They’d have to know about his past for that to be the case, which would seriously limit the suspect pool.”
“Only the guys at the shop know about me,” Brody said, picking up his cup of coffee for the first time and sipping. He hadn’t considered the possibility of someone trying to sabotage his credibility with Xan. Even if that were the case, it didn’t make that picture a fake.
“Son, do you honestly think the FBI doesn’t have a bead on you? I’ve been accepting contracts from them for years. We may hit dead ends when looking into your past, but I’d bet my life the feds know how often you take a shit now and could compare it to how often you did before your accident.”
And that was true too. Brody’d tried every avenue to find out about his past once he knew he could do it without drawing unwanted attention to himself. He hadn’t had much luck, but Colonel had found some old connections who’d pieced some of the information together. And when he’d tried getting info from the feds, he hit a brick wall. So it’d make sense that they wouldn’t mind knowing everything about him without sharing.
