Surviving the Fall (Hidden Truths Book 4)

by Brittney Sahin

  When he had smiled at her, his face lit up. His gorgeous dimples making her speechless.

  “Alexa?”

  “Hm?” She blinked and tipped up her chin to meet his deep brown eyes.

  “You nervous at all?”

  Her fingers brushed across her collarbone and slid down the front of her black cashmere sweater. “I always get a little nervous when I go on—” Alexa stopped herself—she had almost forgotten she was on a plane full of civilians. “Yeah, I am.” For more reasons than one.

  Tomorrow wasn’t bloody well guaranteed.

  She thought about Jason Holms, the two-faced bastard and ex-boyfriend she would be working with in Barcelona. He wasn’t the reason for her lack of a love life—he hadn’t stolen her ability to love. No, but he stole her ability to trust. Still, the agency held the strongest claim on her life. As long as she was buried in undercover operations and bouncing around the globe, she would never get the opportunity to know if she were even capable of trusting a man again.

  Jake’s arm was draped over the armrest, his fingers curved over the end, clenching tightly. His muscular biceps rippled strength beneath his long-sleeved, brown cotton shirt. What she wouldn’t give for another week of bliss with Jake, like the one they’d shared last year. She’d damn near sell her soul if it meant spending even one day wrapped up in those arms.

  “I’m not nervous,” he said with a calm ease, an almost impassive look on his face.

  Jake’s words pulled her right out of her head, and her gaze snapped back up to his face. “You’re not?” she asked with disbelief.

  “I’m not sure what to make of that, either.” He raised his arm and rested a fist against his lips—lips she suddenly had the fighting need to kiss. “How can I not be nervous about what we’re going to do?” he asked in a low voice.

  She glanced around at the plane full of passengers, and at that mom who came walking by again, bouncing her baby, wrapped in a soft blue blanket, in her arms.

  It wasn’t safe to talk too much. “I think you’re settling back into your life. The pieces are fitting together more and more as you remember. And this is becoming natural to you, this life.”

  “But you’ve got nerves. So, shouldn’t I?”

  But she always got nervous, even when she was confident about a mission. “We’re all different.” Her arm went over the armrest, and she touched his leg, trying to reassure him, but it also produced a tingling sensation in her fingers.

  “Alexa.” The vein in his neck throbbed, and she watched his Adam’s apple move as he swallowed. He touched her wrist, shifting it back to her lap. A feeling of rejection sputtered through her, and she looked away.

  But out of the corner of her eye, she noticed him raising the armrest.

  He reached for her hand and brought it back to his thigh, where he laced his fingers with hers. Then he shut his eyes and tilted his head back. She stared at their intertwined hands as if she were studying a work of art—trying to interpret its meaning.

  And then she, too, shut her eyes. Some things were better left alone.

  “That is completely cliché.” Alexa folded her arms and eyed Xander, noting the mischievous look in his eyes. What the hell was he trying to pull—salvaging her love life while also taking down terrorists? Of course, it wouldn’t be the first time Xander had tried to play matchmaker. “I am not rooming with Jake.” She looked over as the man in question leaned against a white column in the hotel lobby. Jake’s gaze was on her, his eyes questioning.

  She shook her head and looked back at Xander. “Why can’t you and I be the honeymoon couple?”

  “I thought you hated me right now.”

  “Shit. I do.” She bit her lip. “But still—”

  Xander tapped the small envelope against his jeaned thigh—inside it were the two keycards for the honeymoon suite. “What are you afraid of? There are two separate rooms in the suite. Two beds.”

  “I’m not afraid of anything, but—”

  “Good. It’s settled.” He handed her the envelope. “Randall and I are checking into Reza’s hotel across the street.” The team didn’t want Jake in the same hotel with Reza. They had to assume that Reza knew what Jake looked like, and they weren’t sure if his disguise would hold up under scrutiny.

  “Are you and Randall sharing a room?” She squinted at him as a smile met her lips.

  “No, but—”

  “Bloody hypocrite.” She shook her head. “Fine. What’s the plan?”

  Xander looked at the large face on his wristwatch. “It’s late. Randall and I will meet with the other Americans who are arriving here in a few hours.”

  “And Jason? When does that arsehole get here? Who is escorting him?”

  “Matt was going to come, but he’s heading to Istanbul to meet with Tenley and John, instead. Our informant, Berat, is missing.”

  “That’s not good.” Alexa wasn’t sure how much more bad news she could tolerate.

  “Christ, I know.”

  “Tell me you have some positive news. Like, did Sam find anything out?” Xander had called HQ before they checked in and this was the first update she was getting. “How were the diagnostic tests on our servers?”

  “No news, yet.” He released a deep, frustrated breath. “I’m getting a bad feeling, Alexa.”

  She was, too, but the fact that Xander was willing to admit how bad things seemed made her even more worried.

  “Anyways, Seth is heading here in the morning with Jason.” Alexa remembered that Laney had originally planned to assign Seth to Jake’s case before they discovered the explosion was related to @Anarchy.

  “Matt really approves working with Jason?” she asked in surprise.

  “It wasn’t his call—Laney’s orders.” Xander touched her elbow and urged her farther off to the side of the lobby where no one was standing. “We need Jason’s help, Alexa. I hate saying that. You know I do. I despise the bastard, but he’s the absolute best hacker we’ve ever encountered. If we’re going to have a chance at this, we need him.”

  Jason should never have been allowed to consult with MI6. He should have been locked up in a maximum-security prison.

  “I need a drink.” She glanced back at Jake.

  “Get some rest. I’ll come to your room in the morning before we meet up with the crew at my place.” Xander patted her on the shoulder and started for the sliding doors of the hotel entrance.

  She fidgeted with the envelope in her hand before striding across the lobby and over to Jake. There was a small duffel bag by his feet—they’d done some last-minute shopping at the airport in Chicago during their layover. They hadn’t had time to go back to Jake’s ranch, which meant that he didn’t have medication to treat his wounds. They’d have to stop at a pharmacy at some point.

  “I need a shower and something strong to drink,” she said. Thoughts of Jason hovered above her like a dark, ominous rain cloud.

  “We still sharing a room?” He reached for the bag, and she could have sworn he was hiding a smile.

  “Yeah. You good with that?”

  He lifted his brows. “As long as you are.”

  She looked past his shoulder and at the boutique that was off to the side of the lobby. “Here’s your key.” She handed it to him. “I’m going to get us something to wear that’s a bit nicer than jeans.”

  “Why do we need to look nice?” He cocked his head to the side.

  “We’re close to the boardwalk.” She shrugged. “We can grab a bite to eat and have a drink.”

  “Is it safe to leave the hotel . . . with Reza so close?”

  “If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s how to blend in.”

  Jake raised a brow. “Blend in. You?”

  She slapped at his pecs, and then quickly retracted her arm. “And you’re rocking a new look, too. So, we’ll be good, yeah?” She could feel a sudden heat emanating from Jake, and she wondered what was going on in his head.

  He cleared his throat. “Well, maybe I sho
uld at least pick out my own clothes.”

  She dragged her gaze up and down the length of his body. “I’ve got it covered.” She winked, trying to ignore the small lump of fear that was beginning to unfurl within her.

  But she was a good actress, at least. For one night, she could pretend that everything was okay.

  “I’ll be up in twenty minutes. Why don’t you hop in the shower?” She started to turn toward the shop, but he caught her by the wrist.

  “Nothing too stuffy,” he said as his eyes met hers.

  She laughed. “I know.”

  Alexa could feel his eyes on her as she went into the store. Her fingers danced across the fabric of a red silk dress that hung beautifully on a mannequin. She’d worn a similar dress on the night she’d first met Jake.

  But it wasn’t exactly New Year’s Eve anymore, was it? Still, she wanted to look nice. She might never see Jake again after the case was over. Maybe they could make the most of the little time they had . . . as they had last year.

  A stabbing pain of regret wrapped its way around her throat. What if he remembered how things really ended between them? Would he hate her for holding back the truth?

  She pushed the worry aside as she stopped in front of another mannequin wearing the perfect outfit. She was determined to enjoy this night because she had to become Agent Ryan again in the morning.

  And when the sun kissed the sky, and the folds of darkness fell away—she’d have to face Jason.

  But tonight, she could be the woman Jake had kissed on New Year’s Eve.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Jake faced the steaming hot water in the shower, careful to keep his back out of the spray. The scalding water would destroy him if it touched his scars.

  He shut his eyes and tipped his face up, relishing in the heat. Then he heard a door open and close. Alexa must have been back.

  A night walking around Barcelona with Alexa seemed almost too good to be true. Xander had said they wouldn’t be diving into anything until tomorrow, so there was no point in ruining the night, right? Besides, it was almost sixty degrees outside, and he was less than a mile from the Mediterranean Sea. It was a nice change from the negative temperatures of Montana. Hell, a nice change from everything.

  He only wished Alexa would open up to him more. As frustrated as he had been the other night at the ranch, he didn’t have it in him to hang on to the anger. He was dealing with far too much reconciling the past with the present, distinguishing between memories and nightmares. When he had fallen asleep on the plane ride over, he’d woken up with sweat on his brow and chest, his hands firmly locked against his thighs as he remembered standing over his grandfather’s casket, saying goodbye one last time, with his sister weeping at his side.

  “I’m back!” Alexa called out from behind the closed door. “Gonna jump in the other shower.”

  “Okay,” he answered, turning his shoulder as he did. The hot water splashed against his shoulder blade and skated down his back—burning his wounds. “Fuck,” he moaned under his breath, pounding a fist against the wall.

  Then he bowed his head as he turned around and decided to allow the water to lash his back. His shoulders jerked, and he winced, but he forced himself to remain, inviting the heat to strike at his scars.

  Punishment for living when his teammates in Italy had died.

  Punishment for an agent dying in Montana when his job had been to protect Jake—and he did so with his own life.

  His biceps tightened as he fought against the pain threading through his body, wrapping itself around every one of his limbs. Strangling him.

  His hands curled into fists, pressing against the tiled shower wall as his breathing became labored.

  And when he could no longer feel anything, when he was numb, he finally turned off the shower and stepped out.

  He yanked a plush white towel from the back of the door and scrubbed his face with it before draping it around his waist, cringing as the material touched his skin like a blade ripping open old wounds.

  He released a sobering breath and wiped the steam from the large mirror, bracing against the counter as he studied his image.

  He was a long way from the teacher he’d planned to be. While a history teacher taught about the world, he had been making history. In the crossfires of death.

  He shifted his body to view as much of his back as he could. The crisscross patterns were a reminder of the impending terrorist attack, and that he might know something to help stop it.

  “Focus,” Jake whispered to himself as he shut his eyes and pressed his fingers against his eyelids. He took a deep breath and tried to pull forth the memories, but it was like a black veil had dropped over his mind. Pokes of light pierced the darkness, but they didn’t reveal what awful truths his mind was hiding from him.

  A low whistle sounded from his lips as he exhaled and opened his eyes.

  When he returned to the bedroom, there was a bag of clothes on the bed.

  His frustrations were momentarily buried beneath a smile as he thought about her picking out clothes for him. The woman had thought things through—black slacks and socks, a white button-down shirt, and even a pair of loafers.

  He checked the size of each—how the hell did she know? Was that a talent of MI6 agents?

  When he entered the living area, he was dressed in the clothes she had bought him. Her door was still shut, and he could hear a hair dryer beyond the door. He went over to the window and looked out over the city, which appeared as a blanket of glittering lights below. Street lamps and restaurant signs illuminated the walkways, compact cars and motorbikes crawled past palm trees and mini parks. It would be a nice place to vacation. He’d always wanted to try authentic Spanish cuisine.

  His hand went to the glass as his body became heavy and head light—the contrast making him dizzy. Maybe he’d overdone it with the shower. Then his jaw clenched tight, and he was overcome with the feeling that hot rocks were burning his chest. Jake realized that his mind was trying to peel back another memory.

  “The clothes fit.”

  At the sound of Alexa’s voice, Jake released his breath and lost whatever had attempted to rise from the dead part of his mind.

  “No glasses tonight, I see,” she said when he faced her.

  His eyes roamed over her body. She was wearing fitted black jeans with black heels. A black leather jacket was draped over her black, V-neck top. She looked lethal all in black, like a spy from an action flick. And she looked hot—entirely too damn delicious for him to resist. She raised a hand to her cheek, and then pushed it through her long, wavy locks. “You ready to get out of here? We can slip out the side exit, so we don’t run into Reza if he happens to be leaving his hotel at the same time.”

  He raised his hand to his mouth and tapped a fist at his lips for a moment before pulling it away. “You look nice,” he finally said.

  “Thank you.” She tipped her head to the door. “Let’s get out of here.”

  “And you’re sure Xander won’t kill us?” Not that he really cared what Xander, or even Randall, thought. But he also knew this wasn’t a vacation.

  “I’ll worry about him. Besides, he might be my boss, but I’m pissed at him right now. I think he’d understand my need to have a drink.” She started for the door. “Or five.”

  Jake came up next to her. “Why are you angry at him?” he asked when they were alone in the elevator.

  She chewed on her bottom lip for a moment, and Jake wondered if she and Xander had ever been a couple. He took an uneasy step back. Every moment with her just twisted his emotions tighter.

  But when his eyes landed on hers, he saw that they had become glittering gems, coated over with a sheen of liquid. Was she going to cry? He moved forward without thinking, closing the gap between them, but as he did, the elevator doors parted. Just outside the door, someone cleared his voice, signaling the presence of an outsider.

  Alexa straightened her shoulders and quickly brushed past Jake as he nodded
at the elderly couple waiting to board the elevator.

  “Alexa?” He caught up to her and reached for her wrist. “What’s wrong?”

  She didn’t turn to face him, but she halted in her steps. “Can we get a drink and pretend that the world doesn’t exist?” She sighed. “That my ex-boyfriend Jason hasn’t been invited to work the case with us tomorrow.”

  Ex?! He released his grip and waited a moment before following after her.

  When they reached the outside, he paused on the sidewalk, allowing his lungs to fill up with the night air. He couldn’t ask for anything more than this beautiful night . . . well, other than not to have the threat of a terrorist attack looming over his head. Or for Alexa to be upset.

  “You coming?” Alexa looked back over her shoulder at him, and he nodded and caught up with her.

  “Have you been here before?” she asked as they walked down the crowded street toward the boardwalk.

  “No, but I’ve always wanted to come.”

  “Probably not like this, though, huh?”

  He smiled and pushed his hands into his pockets, resisting the strange urge to hold her hand. “No, not so much. How about you?”

  “Been to Madrid on a case, but never here. And I was pretty much stuck inside a van the entire time, behind a computer screen.” She tucked her hair behind her ear, revealing a small diamond stud.

  “So, you’re a cyber expert? That’s your thing?”

  Her lips spread into a beautiful smile. “Yeah, that’s my thing.”

  “How long have you been doing it? I know I’m not making you repeat yourself since we clearly wouldn’t have had this conversation last year.” He peeked at her and noticed her eyes cast down at the pavement.

  “No, we didn’t talk about our work.”

  “Did you give me a cover story?”

  “I told you I worked with computers. So, not a total lie. I’ve been with MI6 for eight years now. I was recruited from my job when I was twenty-five.”

  “Hm.” He looked straight ahead and tried to hide the pain that had begun to dart up his leg. This was the most he’d walked since the explosion—although he’d stupidly run after the shooter. Now, he was paying for it. “What’d I tell you that I did for work?” He was curious about their time together; he wished more than anything that he could remember more than their one kiss. Even though the memories weren’t in his mind, he could feel them inside—in his heart. The woman must have made one hell of an impression.