“McKenna, thanks for staying.” He stalked over to the bar, took a couple of water bottles out of the fridge, handed her one, and then sat in his chair at his desk.
Dropping back into her chair, she blurted the words out before he could speak. “I screwed up the op in Marseille.”
He didn’t say anything for the longest time, just looked at her with those piercing black eyes. She met his gaze head-on. Taking responsibility for her actions had come at a high price. She’d once blamed everyone else for her problems. No longer. She knew exactly when she fucked up and she didn’t back away.
McCall nodded. “You’re right. You did. The girls could have been killed. You and Dylan, too.”
“I know.”
“Is it going to happen again?”
“No.”
“Good. You ready to come on board as an operative?”
“You’re sure you want me?”
“You’ve proved yourself over and over again, McKenna. I don’t expect perfection from my operatives. You learn from your mistakes and you move on.”
“Then yes, I’ll come on board.”
“Good.” He stood. “Stop by and see Angela before you leave. I know we usually send your payments to an account. Let her know if you want to continue with the same arrangement.”
“And that’s it?”
“You got something else to say?”
She took a breath. “I’d like to tell you what I told Samara.”
“You know that’s not necessary, don’t you?”
And that was one of the biggest reasons she was going to talk. She had trusted few people in her adult life, had trusted the wrong people as a teen. It was time to spread her wings, and that meant trusting her instincts. Noah and Samara had given her their word and their trust. She could do no less.
“I was raised in Traylor City, Nebraska. It’s a little town, maybe seven thousand people then. About twenty miles outside of Omaha. My parents were part-time farmers and had a hardware store in town. I had a little sister, two years younger than me.”
She took a breath. Telling it the second time was no easier than the first. “When I was sixteen, I met a good-looking guy at a movie theater. He was older, told me he was nineteen. I had only just been given permission to date, so to my parents, a nineteen-year-old was too old. I didn’t know until much later that he was actually twenty-three. Anyway, they didn’t approve of me dating him, told me I couldn’t. I ignored them, didn’t listen to them…thought they were too old, too backward to know what they were talking about.”
Noah leaned back into his chair and watched McKenna open herself up. After seeing Samara briefly before he came in, he knew whatever McKenna had gone through was bad. He hadn’t expected her to share it with him, and as she talked, he was somewhat surprised that she was. As a teenager, she’d made a horrendous mistake in judgment; she and her family had paid the highest price possible. What boiled his blood even more was the way McKenna had been treated after the fact. No wonder she trusted so few. The very people she should have been able to depend upon had betrayed her.
Dylan had told him the circumstances of the operation and how McKenna had reacted. The man hadn’t liked sharing that information but knew it had to be done. Knowing his operatives’ weaknesses and fears was just as important as knowing their strengths. When a victim’s life is on the line, having an operative unable to function can cost lives. Noah had needed to know.
After hearing the details, he’d made a decision. McKenna needed LCR as much as LCR needed her. No employee of Last Chance Rescue was infallible and few operations went off without some kind of glitch. Noah himself had made some terrible decisions during operations. Perfection wasn’t expected. Guts, determination, and the fierce desire to help others were. McKenna had those characteristics and then some.
Breath shuddered through her as she finished her heartbreaking story. She’d shed no tears, but her deathly pale face and the dark hell in her eyes told him how haunted she continued to be.
“Where’s Damon Hughes now?”
“I haven’t heard from him in a couple of years. After he killed my neighbor, Mrs. Winston, I left Memphis. I managed to hook up with a good counterfeiter before I left. I got a new name, new social security number…new everything. I changed my appearance as much as possible. Came to Paris.” She shrugged. “The rest you know.”
“Where did you get your training?”
A hard look crossed her face for an instant. “I was staying at a shelter in Baltimore. A couple of guys roughed me up…tried to rape me. I fought back, but it wasn’t enough. Just before they got started, a man interrupted them. Beat both of them to a pulp, then turned on me. Yelling and screaming at me for being such a stupid idiot.” Her mouth twisted. “He was right. I was stupid…and untrained. Having him yell at me was the right thing to do. If he’d been nice, I probably would’ve just melted in a puddle. Instead I got pissed.”
“And he’s the one who trained you?”
“Yes, he and two others. They own a private gym called Three Brothers. Two of them were former Special Forces. The other one, the one who saved me, had been in and out of jail for various things in his youth. He’d turned his life around and was the one who opened the gym.”
“They did a good job. How long did you train with them?”
“For about a year. They gave me a job there. I got an apartment…things were going well.”
“What happened?”
“Damon’s people came. My friends gave them the ass-kicking of a lifetime, but I knew if I didn’t get out of there, Damon would find a way to hurt them. I disappeared the next day.” She shrugged. “It’s best that I don’t form attachments.”
“Do you plan to confront him at some point?”
“Yes.”
“Are you actively looking for him?”
She clenched her jaw, and he saw the fear behind the bravado she always showed. “Not yet.”
She would at some point. Each person had their own timetable in facing their demons. She would decide when the time was right. Right now it was easier for her to have no life than to deliberately take another. He could understand that mentality, but at some point she would come to the end of her rope.
“If he ever finds you, will you allow us to help?”
A stubborn expression, one he’d seen too many times to count, crossed her face. Often when it came to confronting their demons, people wanted to do it on their own. He couldn’t fault her for that. He understood it, too, better than most. But she needed to remember she was part of a community of people who’d been to hell and back in their own right. Not only were LCR operatives committed to rescuing victims, they were damn good at banding together to help one another.
She gave a slight nod. “If I think you can help, I’ll let you know.”
He would let himself be satisfied with that. If he pushed, she’d push back. He’d have to trust her to make the right decision. McKenna needed to learn to trust, and one of the best ways was for her to know that she was trusted.
Noah stood and held out his hand. “Welcome to LCR officially, McKenna.”
Her hand felt delicate and small in his, and Noah had to remind himself that she might look like she was too young, too fragile, but physical appearances were often deceptive and rarely had anything to do with courage. Samara was even smaller than McKenna and was one of the gutsiest people he knew.
“Thank you for your trust, Noah. I won’t let you down again.”
Noah nodded and watched as, head held high, she walked out the door. After she closed the door behind her, he slumped back into his chair.
Lucas Kane had his work cut out for him. She’d given her trust to LCR, but giving her trust to another man would be even more difficult for her. A smile played at his lips. Actually, Kane might be the one man who was up to the challenge.
But there was still the worry of this Damon character. Noah could only hope she’d give LCR an opportunity to help when the time came. The man w
as well past insane. From the sound of it, once he found McKenna again, he’d never let her go, not even if he had to kill her to keep her.
Palm Beach
The call woke him from a restless sleep. Since learning McKenna might have been found, he hadn’t been able to rest well or concentrate. His business would soon suffer. Since there were few people he trusted, he was a hands-on businessman. People were less likely to screw you over when they knew they were being watched. In his early days, he’d had to eliminate some of his people to show them how things were to be done. It’d been years since he’d had to kill anyone for business reasons, but his people knew he would have no qualms if it became necessary. Keeping your employees on their toes and scared as hell had gotten him where he was. He couldn’t slack off.
But McKenna was more important to him than any business venture. He had the wealth, but he needed the woman to share it with him. The only woman who mattered.
The phone rang again. Groggy and pissed, he kicked the woman beside him. “Get out.”
She mumbled but didn’t move. He grabbed the phone and barked, “What?”
“Sir, I have more news.”
“Hold on.” Damon rolled over. Inches from the woman’s face, he shouted, “Get the fuck out of my bed!”
Sleep disappeared from her face as her eyes went wide with fear. She slipped from the bed and slunk out of the room. Stupid bitch. He’d get rid of her tomorrow.
He put the phone back to his ear. “Talk.”
“It’s her. She fits the description perfectly.”
“Tell me about her.”
“As I told you, she goes by the name Jamie Kendrick. The photograph you gave us from her high school portrait is almost identical. No one really seems to know much about her or where she came from.”
“You’ve talked to people who know her?”
“Just in passing. Not enough to cause suspicion.”
“I would be quite upset if she found out and disappeared again.”
There was a long pause and then the man said, “Yes sir. I realize that.”
“Has she seen you at all?”
“No.”
“Does she have any friends?”
“Not that we’ve seen.”
Good; perhaps she had learned her lesson. However, he was tired of waiting. He’d given her time and she had gone off and made a new life for herself. A life without him? Totally unacceptable. It was time for her to come home. Time for her to become what she was meant to be. His.
“Bring her here.”
Damon hung up the phone. Anticipation stirred in his body. He wouldn’t force her this time…not at first. He would woo her, as he had when they first started dating. She would get to know him again. See how much he still loved her. He had fallen in love with her when she was sixteen and had never stopped. She had been young, fresh, innocent. So malleable. And then she’d started listening to her parents. That had been her mistake.
Their relationship had never been as peaceful as he had hoped it would be. Time and again she had defied him. She thought he enjoyed punishing her. Had even screamed that terrible accusation at him. Those words had hurt and infuriated him. Enjoy causing her pain? He’d almost cried that day. How could she accuse him of that? Everything he had done, he had done for her so they could be together. And had she ever appreciated it? Not once had she thanked him. Not once had she told him she understood. Instead she had tried to escape in the most heinous way possible. And when that hadn’t worked, she had done something even worse. She had betrayed him.
The more he thought about her constant betrayals, the angrier he became. He had to stop thinking about them. Reliving the past would get him nowhere. Once she was home, everything would be forgotten. They would start all over again.
She would accept her new life and everything he wanted to give her. He would forgive her and she would be his again. And if she said no again? Then there would be the need for more lessons…perhaps harsher ones. This time it would take; this time it would be permanent.
seven
London
She stood on the other side of the street, across from the gate to his estate. She told herself she was crazy for being here. Just because they’d talked for hours one night and shared that one amazing kiss didn’t mean there should be anything more than that. She was now officially an LCR operative. Any other time Noah had asked for her help, she’d had the option of turning him down…not that she ever had. But as a full-fledged operative, she was on call 24/7.
Most likely Lucas had wanted her to know his address as a courtesy. She’d rescued him from Victor; he felt that he owed her. The kiss? Well, admittedly it had been wonderful, and yes, she’d felt his arousal, but reading more into it than that could only create problems. Besides, she’d thrown herself into his arms. What was he supposed to do? Lucas was a normal man with a healthy sexual appetite. He wouldn’t want a woman who was neither normal nor healthy when it came to sex. Damon had made sure she was too damaged for anyone else.
She should go back to Paris, wait for a job. But she didn’t want to. She wanted to see him. Stupid? Absolutely. Damon had no idea where she was. But thinking he’d stopped looking for her would be foolish and dangerous. And if he did ever find her, he’d make sure that whoever she cared about was hurt.
She had learned a lesson with Mrs. Winston in Memphis. McKenna had ignored everyone in the apartment complex, wanting to make sure she caused no one problems. Mrs. Winston had been an elderly widow. One day McKenna had come home to find the woman struggling to carry in groceries and McKenna had carried them up for her. As a thank-you, the elderly lady had baked her some cookies and brought them to McKenna’s apartment. That was it. She hadn’t invited the woman into her apartment. She’d accepted the gift and said thank you. Just as she was about to close the door, she’d caught sight of Mrs. Winston’s crestfallen expression. The elderly lady had looked so eager to please and so lonely…a loneliness McKenna recognized in herself. In a reckless moment she would forever regret, she had hugged the old lady for her kindness. Then she had closed the door. That was it—that’s all she had done.
The next day Mrs. Winston was dead. The police and medical examiner had ruled that she’d slipped on the stairs, fallen, and broken her neck. The woman’s death had saddened her; she’d been a nice old lady.
Never had she suspected anything else. Then the letter came.
Damon had made sure she knew who was responsible. He’d written out a full confession. Admitting to the deed, but blaming her, of course. McKenna hadn’t bothered going to the police. What was the point? Damon Hughes was supposed to be dead. Accusing a dead man of a murder would be a sure way to get herself locked up.
Besides, they hadn’t believed her years ago when she’d had physical proof of Damon’s evil; why would they believe her now? The bruises and scars from months of abuse hadn’t elicited anything from them other than disgust and contempt. A few had looked at her like she’d put them there herself, or at the very least like she deserved what she got. How could she argue with that reasoning? In many ways, she had deserved them.
Wrapping her arms around herself, McKenna turned away. No, she couldn’t face Lucas. There was nothing she could give him. She would go back to Paris and wait for a job.
“Don’t go.”
Lucas! She whirled around. He stood on the other side of the street, in front of his home.
“How did you know I was here?”
“I looked out the window.”
It shouldn’t have been that easy. Had she stood here subconsciously, hoping he would see her? That he would take the choice out of her hands? She sure hadn’t tried to hide. Was she setting herself up for a major heartache? One she would never recover from? Having her heart broken didn’t concern her. Having Damon find out about her fascination for Lucas frightened her more than anything she’d known since she’d lost her family. If he hurt Lucas, she wouldn’t survive it.
“I don’t know why I’m here,” sh
e confessed.
“You don’t have to have a reason to see a friend.”
Her heart melted. Friend. It had been so long since she’d had one. “I can’t stay long.”
He held out his hand. “Stay as long as you can.”
Without consciously telling her body to move, she crossed the street. It was as if he summoned her with just one lift of his hand. Not in command, but in welcome.
When she reached him, she stood and let her eyes roam over his face. It had been two weeks since she’d seen him. Somehow she thought he looked older, tired.
“It’s good to see you again.”
Silver-gray eyes gleamed as he pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “And you.”
“Are you well?” she asked.
His smile, more glorious than any sunrise, brightened his face and with it her soul. “I am now.”
Her heart pounding with a multitude of emotions, McKenna took his hand. “I am, too.”
Palm Beach
His heart pounding in his chest, Damon looked down at the unconscious woman lying in the trunk of the car. So long…it had been so long since he’d seen her, touched her. He wasn’t surprised to see his hand trembling as he gently pushed aside the silky, golden brown hair covering her delicate face. She looked different, yet the same. A bit older, but still so innocently sweet.
“Did she give you much trouble?”
The large man beside him grunted. “Not much. She was doing laundry in her basement, middle of the night. We got her, took her clothes and personal stuff from her apartment. Made it look like she left town.”
“Good.” He leaned down again, caressed her neck, his fingers trailing over her firm breast. Anticipation and arousal zinged through him. “Has she woken yet?”
“A couple of times.” He shrugged his massive shoulders. “Last time she woke, we injected her with that stuff we got from that doctor you told us to contact. Worked great. Knocked her out, fast as lightning.”
Last Chance Page 8
