Veils: A Killers Novel, Book 4

by Asher, Brynne

  Prosk’s eyes angle to me even though Grady is the one who could crush his ribcage if he wanted to.

  “Fucking spill it,” I demand.

  Grady’s boot presses harder and Prosk coughs. “Stop.”

  “You talk, I’ll stop,” Grady says.

  Without looking away from me, Prosk’s words might come out hoarse and strangled, but I hear them as clear as day. “Alexander Jarvis.”

  Well, fuck me.

  I put my hand to Grady’s chest to get him to step back and the man below us swallows a much-needed deep breath.

  “How do you know him?” I demand.

  * * *

  Not many times has my world shifted. I can remember them all.

  My fucking father sabotaging my chance to play for Notre Dame.

  When my SEAL team was barricaded and I lost half of the most important men in my life.

  The moment I met a pint-sized brunette and she rocked my world.

  The day I found Gracie beaten so badly, I thought I might lose her.

  Last night, when I realized she hijacked my fucking heart and I’ll never get it back.

  And right now, when the journalist who’s turned my fucking life upside down, rocks my world in the worst way possible. “Alexander Jarvis is my father.”

  * * *

  I take a step back. “No fucking way.”

  Asa comes up to stand beside me and we’re all staring down at the man who’s claiming to be … my brother?

  “What proof do you have?” Asa demands.

  Prosk looks agitated but he can’t be as bad off as me right now—my head is spinning and my insides are churning, again with hate for Alexander Jarvis. It doesn’t take me but a second to realize, however this ends, it can’t be good. If he’s lying, I need to figure out why. If he’s telling the truth … shit. I don’t even want to comprehend what this means if he’s telling the truth.

  Prosk is angry now, despite the position he’s in—which isn’t a good one—when he answers Asa. “The word of my mother, and before you make any fucking comments, don’t. She’s a good woman—the best—and wouldn’t make this shit up. She left my birth certificate blank. It’s taken me all twenty-nine of my years, but I finally got her to tell me and I tracked him down.”

  “You’ve caused a shit storm you cannot even comprehend. If you think this is true, go bark up his tree and leave me the hell alone,” I say.

  “I couldn’t get through to him. I tried everything, dammit. Home, work. He refuses to answer my messages. And you,” he spits like he can’t stand the sight of me. Well, buddy, the feeling is mutual. “It’s like you’ve been wiped from the face of the earth. If it weren’t for my mother telling me of your existence, I would never have known. I had to search high and low for you.”

  “Yeah? And how did you finally do that?”

  “I found your mother’s name on a flight register out of Manassas. FAA laws, those flight plans are public. All I had to do is follow the same pilot and finally found your trip to Ireland. I had your picture from when you played football to ask around about you.”

  “DNA.” I look over and Crew is typing into his phone as he barks orders. “Oz, get hair samples by the root. A swab or blood test would be better but I’m not a medical clinic. I think I’ve got some evidence bags around here, if not I’ll run to the house and get some Ziplock’s.”

  “Seriously?” I ask.

  “What?” He presses send and slides his phone back in his pocket and turns to me. “We’re not in the business of collecting evidence. I’m not prepared for this shit.”

  “No. About the DNA test.”

  Crew looks at me like I’m an idiot, which since the guy on the ground just shifted my world in a way I’m anxious to adjust to it back to the penthouse in Paris, I can’t say Crew is far off the mark. “You’d rather him go around claiming to be your half-brother when he’s not? Or worse, have him lie about it?”

  “I’m not lying,” Calvin complains and tries to put some effort behind it, but in his position, it’s not working.

  We all ignore him and Crew keeps on. “Oz, hair and baggies—Asa will know where to send them—then you’re playing babysitter here to our guest. Asa, find this guy some clothes, let him clean up, and get him something to eat. Grady—stay in contact with Mary Poppins. I’ve been in contact with her but I want to know the exact location of O’Dowd the second she communicates.”

  “Who’s Mary Poppins?” Calvin asks.

  “None of your business,” Crew throws back at him without a glance and turns to me, speaking in code. “Go back to where you came from. I’ve got more important shit to do and am sick of playing Judge Judy in family court.”

  “Hey,” Calvin tries to get someone’s attention. “You can’t just keep me here.”

  “Yeah?” Crew hitches a brow. “Watch me. We do a fuck ton of shit we aren’t supposed to do and somehow the world keeps turning.”

  The next thing I know, I feel a sting at my scalp and turn to glare at Ozzie who’s just yanked a hunk of my hair out by the root. But he doesn’t give a shit and stuffs it into an evidence bag before writing on it with a Sharpie.

  Crew turns to leave and I follow, never needing to escape anywhere more in my life. Right now, the urge to pummel my father is off the charts and I’ve wanted to do it for years.

  When we get outside, the sun is peeking over the hills. Crew goes to his F-Type and I head straight to my Explorer.

  “Mary Poppins, huh?” I ask knowing he’s talking about Donnelly. “With all the shit that went down with Gracie, I never had a chance to ask what’s up with her.”

  He stands next to his Jag and rests a forearm on the hood. “I’ve contracted with her the last two years and worked with her when I was active. As you can see from your last job, she’s solid.”

  “She’s also a pain in the ass.”

  He narrows his eyes before motioning toward the barn we just left. “So are you.”

  I refuse to sanction that comment with a reaction.

  “She was MI6 in her previous life,” Crew adds. “My trust doesn’t come easily but she’s got it all. She’s turned into my eyes and ears in that part of the world.”

  Huh. British intelligence. Impressive, yet still, annoying as hell. “I call her Spice Girl but I’m younger. Must be a generational thing.”

  “Fuck off, Jarvis.” It’s the last thing I hear before I slam my car door.

  Gracie was right. We never should have left Paris. The first opportunity I get, I’m taking her back. Reality fucking sucks.

  Chapter 27

  Beloved

  Gracie

  I wake up alone.

  Not what I thought would happen after last night. Just another reason to run away and escape to Paris. There was nothing there to pull Noah away from me.

  Instead of waking up to his touch, lips, or erection pressed into my ass, I’m reminded of where I am—Virginia, in Addy’s bungalow on Whitetail Farms. The cow acting as my alarm clock is reality enough to prove it.

  I also smell coffee.

  After throwing on enough clothes to not be scandalous, I take the few steps to the kitchen and pour myself a cup of liquid gold and mentally bless Bev for stocking us with cream and sugar. Then I turn to the commotion.

  I open the front door and—I’ll never forget the picture in front of me—Noah is sitting on the porch steps petting a cow.

  An enormous cow.

  And the cow is sort of, I don’t know … snuggling him? This is why I woke up alone and didn’t get morning sex for the first time in days?

  Never in my life did I think these words would cross my brain, but I think I’ve been cock-blocked by a cow.

  I shut the door behind me and clear my throat so I can be heard over the cow mooing into Noah’s neck. “I’m all in after last night, Jarvis. There’s no reason to make me jealous with a heifer.”

  He scratches the cow under her chin, neck, whatever. Do cows even have chins? He keeps scratching awa
y without looking back at me. “You Jarvised me over a cow. Didn’t take you for a green-eyed lover.”

  I sit next to him and try to avoid the beast who doesn’t smell as bad as I thought it would. “I woke up alone and found you cheating on me with a cow. What do you expect?”

  As if to throw it in my face, the cow bellows and I jump, sloshing my coffee all over me.

  Noah leans over and kisses the side of my head. “I’ll make it up to you in the shower.”

  “You need a shower after this cow practically molested you.”

  Noah gives her one more neck rub and shoos the beast. “Go on, Harry.”

  “Harry?”

  “You didn’t know Addy had cows?”

  “I did but I didn’t know they had names.” And how about that? Harry is trained because she immediately turns and meanders away. “You like cows?”

  He takes my coffee out of my hand and takes a chug before putting his arm around my back and tucking me tight to his side. “Who doesn’t like cows?”

  I’ve never given it any thought but he’s right. There’s no reason to hate cows. “Where did you go?”

  He hands me back my coffee and leans back on his arms. Stretching his legs out in front of him, he crosses them at the ankles but he doesn’t answer me. He sighs and looks out to the rolling hills where Harry just disappeared into the woods. “We figured out who took you.”

  I tense and lean into his shoulder. “Who?”

  He brings his other hand up and scrapes it down his face. “His name is Gus O’Dowd. We’ll need you to ID him but we’re pretty damn sure it’s him. We knew of him but there wasn’t any evidence of his participation in the organization we dismantled. It was about six months ago.”

  I exhale and lean my head on his shoulder. I’m surprised how relieved I am, honestly. Ever since Noah rescued me, he hasn’t left my side. I never worried about a repeat occurrence but it does make me wonder. “Do you know where he is?”

  “We think he’s in Ireland but we’re waiting for our sources to confirm.”

  “That’s good.” I take a drink of my coffee and decide not to think about what they plan to do when they get confirmation.

  “I found out some other shit, too.”

  I look up. “More?”

  “Not that my father comes close to the asshole level of yours, but he might’ve just upped himself a notch.” He looks down at me and I realize his face is guarded and I’ve never seen him like this. He’s persistent in trying to drag information out of me and is always forthcoming about anything and everything—even things I don’t ask.

  “What’s wrong?”

  He takes my coffee again and downs the rest but I have a feeling he wishes it were something stronger. “It appears I might have a younger brother.” His tone is clipped and controlled with an edge that makes the tiny hairs on my arm stand at attention despite the rising temperatures. “From another mother.”

  “Shut up,” I whisper.

  He shakes his head. “We’ll know soon. Tomorrow’s a holiday—I hope they can rush the DNA test. We thought he was just an annoying journalist who caught wind of the organization and it turns out he’s an annoying journalist who might be my half-brother, and because of me, has stumbled upon the Irish organization we thought we took out. I know Crew can handle it—he covers our tracks well. We also have the CIA at our backs since they’re the ones funding what we do. It still sucks, and either way, I need to pay a visit to my fucking father. When I sent him Prosk’s picture, he told me he’d never seen him before.”

  “What’s he like?” I ask.

  Noah frowns. “I told you, he’s an ass.”

  I shake my head. “No. I mean your brother.”

  “Half,” he stresses. “And not the good half. And he might not be my brother. We’ll see how fast the lab at Quantico can turn the test around.”

  I roll my eyes. “Okay, so what’s he like—the guy who might or might not be your half-brother?”

  He shakes his head and turns to me, his voice turning hard. “By him knowing who I am and looking for me, he found O’Dowd and led him to you. I don’t give a fuck what he’s like.”

  “But he didn’t do it on purpose, right?”

  “Don’t do that, Grace.”

  “Do what?”

  “How can you have lived through what you have and only see the good in people?”

  “Sins of the parents and all. Not our faults, Noah.”

  “That’s not just it. You’re a healer and a lover—and I don’t just mean mine. You’re a lover of most everything. I’m a killer, plain and simple. We shouldn’t belong together but I don’t give a fuck.”

  I smile and shrug. “You yourself said there was no such thing as black and white. This sounds like the gray you spoke so fondly of last night.” I yank my coffee cup that’s in danger of cracking in his tense fist and push away from him to stand. “You smell like a cow and I’m not going to kiss you until you take a shower. I want to visit Addy and the baby later and need to get cleaned up. I might even try to put on some makeup and see if I can cover my bruise. You can come with me, unless you want to go play in the sprinklers with your girlfriend, Harry.”

  He unfolds from the step and grabs my hips, pulling me to him. We’re almost face to face since I’m standing one step up. He leans in to kiss me but I dodge him and his lips land on my neck. “What do you think I’m going to do? I’ve chased you around the world, you think I won’t follow you to the shower? Ask me to be your ball and chain, Gracie. I dare you.”

  I forget about the cow cooties and press my lips to his. “I know what kind of man you are and there’s no way I’d dare you to do anything. I can barely handle you as you are. But you do need to make me another cup of coffee since you drank half of mine.”

  Noah takes a step, forcing me to walk backwards as he reaches behind me to open the door. “I’ll make you breakfast later. First, I need to dirty you up before I wash you clean. Pissed me off you took a shower without me last night.”

  “Sorry about that. It was a long day.” The moment he flips the lock, my shirt is on the floor and my shorts follow. I’m down to my panties when he picks me up and I wrap my legs around his waist. “Why am I always naked when you’re mostly dressed?”

  He doesn’t even try to hide his grin as his eyes slide down to my chest and back up. “I’ll sit you on the counter so I can put my mouth between your legs and then you won’t question it.”

  My panties become instantly wet and I press myself to him.

  Minutes later, Noah does what he did so well in Paris—he puts us in a bubble where all we think about is each other and all the shit swirling around us evaporates. Even if it’s a temporary situation, it’s everything right now.

  I decide he can keep me as naked as he wishes. I’m pretty much down for anything Noah wants to give me.

  * * *

  I look down at the newborn in my arms—tiny, perfect, and ready for life—and everything swirling inside me hits every tick on the female emotional scale.

  “What does her name mean?”

  “You don’t know Crew well but he has a thing with names. He chose Aimée—it means beloved. How could I argue?”

  I look to Addy where she’s sitting on the sofa across from me. Her long dark hair is piled high on her head and she’s makeup free. She’s absolutely glowing and doesn’t look tired for being the mom of a toddler and a newborn.

  “She’s perfect.” I smile as Aimée arches her back and stretches, her little face scrunching and a dimple appears in the same spot as Crew’s.

  “I swear, between my husband and Bev, I think she’s been held since the moment she was born. Vivi’s just disappointed she’s not more fun yet.”

  “Thanks for letting me hog her for a few minutes.”

  Addy changes the subject. “You look good, Gracie.”

  I roll my eyes. “I look better. Makeup can only cover so much. At least my hair will cover the scar from my stitches. It could have been w
orse.”

  “I think you’ve been very well taken care of.” If her smile could break her face, it would. “I’ve decided I’m going to claim credit for you and Jarvis hooking up since it happened at my winery. Keelie is trying to steal my thunder since it was at their wedding reception but I’m not letting her. I met Crew here, your brother met Maya here, and now you. I can’t take credit for Asa and Keelie, no matter how I twist their story.”

  My eyes gravitate toward the back of her property where the man in question is standing with Crew on their back patio, deep in conversation. “As much as I try to convince him otherwise, he feels responsible for what happened and I hate that.”

  Addy tips her head. “Of course, he feels responsible. Would you want it any other way?”

  I sway back and forth, because how can you not with a newborn in your arms? “You know what I mean. I don’t want anyone carrying guilt for me. It’s bad enough Grady won’t let go of what happened when I was little. He was only seventeen—a kid himself.”

  “Trust me, Gracie. He feels that way because he cares, and from what I can see, he cares a lot. Like, a lot. I’ve known Jarvis since the day he came to train for Crew—he was one of the first. Jarvis is intense—hell, they all are in their own way—but he has to be to do what he does. It’s who he is and you need to accept it. When you do, I can promise that life won’t just be good, it’ll be precious.” She looks down at her daughter in my arms. “And it’ll get better every single day. Don’t fight it and let Jarvis do his thing the way he needs to. They need us just as much, maybe even more.”

  I give her a small smile. “Maybe.”

  Vivi comes running into the room, pouncing on the sofa next to me, and Bev follows. Her wise eyes shine bright when they see me. “My stars, there’s so much beauty in this room, my brain can barely stand it.”

  “Hey, Bev. Thanks for the flowers and all the food yesterday. And Keelie’s pasta was delicious.”