by Leigh, Jo
But she’d known, even before the sadness had fully hit, that to let him stay would have been torture. Never before had she lied to someone in her bed. She’d never had to, and it was horrible. She wasn’t cut out for this. Not her.
Nothing in her life had prepared her for this kind of deceit. That’s what hurt most of all.
While she didn’t know Vince well, there were truths about him that she couldn’t deny. He cared about his work, he cared about the man who’d been killed. The way she cared about exposing the evil that threatened her world.
It wasn’t fair. None of it. All she wanted was to go back in time, to never have discovered anything about Omicron. She wanted that happy oblivion, because this was too hard. Nate and Seth, they were trained to fight, but she was just an optimistic fool who’d believed that people were basically good, and that she could make a difference. What a joke.
She sniffed and reached for some tissues. At least she’d stopped those gut-wrenching sobs. There was even some juice left, which cooled her aching throat. It was early, but still dark, and she couldn’t exactly get up and go to the kitchen. Or turn on the television. Or disappear before she had to face Vince again.
She sat up in the strange bed, in the dark, in yet another room that wasn’t hers. She thought about how she was going to leave Vince without so much as a goodbye, and, once gone, she’d never see him again. And when the tears reappeared, she let them fall. At least they were honest tears.
* * * * *
Her cell phone woke her. Disoriented, she had trouble finding it in her purse, and by the time she pressed the right button, the ringing had stopped. Nate. She rubbed her eyes and took another drink of juice, then called him back. He answered immediately.
“We’ve got trouble.”
Not words she wanted to hear. “What?”
“They know you’re in L.A. They have your picture and your name.”
Her head dropped and her throat tightened. “Do they know where I am?”
“I don’t know, but I’m sure they will soon enough.”
“So?”
“I’ve talked to Cade and he’s gonna take you in. We need one more day to get the transportation together. We should be ready to go by tomorrow night.”
“And if they come for me before then?”
“You’ve got a cop and a gun. For the moment, that’s gonna have to do.”
“I don’t want Vince getting killed over this.”
Nate didn’t say anything for a long minute. “It’s the best I have, Kate. I’m sorry.”
“Not your fault. Just, if you can do this faster, that would be good.”
“Roger that. You be careful.”
“I always am. What’s going on with you guys?”
“Lots. We’ll tell you all about it when we spring you.”
“Tomorrow night,” she said.
Nate disconnected. It was something that had taken getting used to—these soldier boys who didn’t bother with goodbyes. Maybe that was the way to go.
She put her phone in the charger and headed for the bathroom. When had she fallen asleep? It had been past four, that much she knew. She felt as though she hadn’t slept but for five minutes. Her body ached, and she didn’t even want to know how swollen her eyes were.
Whoa, they were worse than she’d guessed. Red, puffy, she looked like a woman who’d cried all night. Go figure.
She washed, hoping that would help, but nothing would, except time. There was no use worrying about it. It really didn’t matter if Vince suspected. She was out of here tomorrow night, and that was going to be that.
She peeked in on him, still sleeping, stretched out on the big couch with only half a blanket covering him. He’d worn his jeans to bed, which didn’t seem the most comfortable nightwear. His gun was on the floor, an inch from his hand.
Hers was under her mattress, which had been good last night, considering, but wouldn’t be good enough today. If Omicron had recognized her, it wouldn’t take them long to find her. Not with their connections.
She remembered what they’d done to Christie. For the unforgivable crime of being Nate’s sister, they’d set her up, made her believe she was being stalked. She’d lost her job, her friends, and almost her life. Somehow, they’d even managed to get to the IRS. Christie’s assets had been seized and she’d been left with nothing.
None of the team had any idea how they’d gotten so high up in the food chain, but the setup had reinforced Nate’s position that he had to find out who was in charge of Omicron. It had to be someone in the government. Someone big. But so far, they’d had no luck getting a name or even an agency. Of course, Omicron was involved with the CIA, but what Omicron had done was so outside the CIA’s purview, that there had to be madmen in charge.
Finding her at Vince’s mother’s house seemed like small potatoes. She knew without a doubt that Omicron would think nothing of killing Vince. They were completely ruthless. She hadn’t lied to Vince about that recurring nightmare. Who knew where it had come from, but she’d always been absolutely terrified of being tortured. She knew she’d fold like a cheap paper bag, and how would she survive knowing she’d betrayed her friends?
It was too much. She was trembling and picturing all kinds of horrors, and that had to stop. She needed something to take her mind off Omicron.
She went back to the bedroom and got dressed. After putting her weapon in her purse, she took that to the kitchen and started the coffee. Making a big breakfast seemed an excellent way to keep busy, so she got out eggs, bacon, potatoes and bread. She’d never actually made hash browns from scratch, but it couldn’t be that hard.
After going through the cupboards, she found an old box grater. That would keep her occupied for a while.
* * * * *
Vince woke to the most amazing smells. Bacon, for sure, but there was something else in the mix, not counting coffee.
He stretched, then headed to the bathroom with a change of clothes. After a quick shower, he went straight to the kitchen, where the smells were even more intoxicating. “What’s all this?”
“How do you like your eggs?”
“Over-medium,” he said. “Can I help?”
“Nope.” Kate was at the stove watching over a big skillet full of hash browns. He didn’t see the bacon, so it must be in the oven. She cracked a couple of eggs in the frying pan. What she didn’t do was look at him.
His first reaction had been to kiss her. To touch that lovely neck, but no. Even someone as clueless as he was could see the Do Not Disturb sign. So he got some coffee and sat down at the table.
She didn’t look up until she came to the table with his plate. Eggs, perfectly cooked, four slices of bacon, the potatoes and two slices of buttered toast. “Wow, what brought this on?”
She shrugged, still not meeting his eye.
“It looks great.”
A small, tight smile was all he got in response, then she was back at the stove.
He’d seen enough, though. Her eyes looked worse for the long night, and her skin seemed pale and drawn. Something was tearing her up. As he ate, he thought about how to get her to talk. He didn’t want to see her upset, but he wasn’t about to forget about Tim just because they’d had sex.
He put his fork down as he remembered the feel of her. There was nothing, not in the whole world, that felt like being inside a woman. And to have that woman be responsive and vocal, and to feel her squeeze him as she got closer and closer to coming. That was home. That was heaven.
Shit, now he was getting hard again, and the last thing that was gonna happen in this house was a repeat performance. There probably shouldn’t have been a first run, either. Clearly, she was sorry she’d done it. That didn’t exactly make him feel like the man of the month. He wanted to ask her why, what had happened, but that question was even harder than asking her if she was an undercover agent.
She sat down at the other side of the table, and he watched her as she nibbled on the food. Mostly, she just
moved it around. The clock on the mantel ticked loudly, and the sound of his fork on the plate clinked, but she was silent, withdrawn and still; she hardly ate a thing.
“Hey,” he said, keeping his voice low. “You want to talk about it?”
She looked up at him, startled. “About what?”
“Nothing. Never mind.”
He kind of expected her to press the issue. Most women he knew couldn’t stand the “never mind” thing. But she just went back to playing with her food.
Finally, it was him that couldn’t take it. “Did I do something wrong?”
“What? No.” The way she said it made him believe her.
“So you’re not sorry we…?”
She put her fork down, and for the first time that morning she looked right at him. “I’m only sorry we’re in this wretched situation. I think you’re a very decent guy. Someone I would have liked to get to know.”
“I’m right here.”
“No, you’re not. You’re not here with me, not really. You want me to give you something I can’t. I was the one who started things. And while it was really great, I had my own reasons for taking you to my bed. Let’s not pretend that we’re lovers, okay, because that would make me feel terrible.”
He wanted to argue with her. At least ask her what her reasons were, but he couldn’t. He’d had his reasons, too. What she didn’t know was that his plan hadn’t worked in all sorts of ways. She hadn’t told him what he wanted to know. And he hadn’t expected to feel…Shit, he liked her. Even this, her unflinching honesty, made him want more. Of what, he wasn’t sure.
She laughed, although it was rueful and sad. “You’re not even going to argue?”
“Nope. I have to confess, I was kind of hoping you’d see what an honest, terrific guy I was and come clean about the whole shooting thing. Remember when I told you I could be a real moron?”
She gave him a smile that made him want to tell her all his secrets. “The truth is…” He shook his head. “I don’t know if I can make you understand how important it is for me to get these guys.”
“Oh, I understand. I wish you could believe that.”
“See, that’s what’s making me crazy. I think you want to tell me. I think you’re fairly bursting with it. But something big is holding you back, and I think I know what that is.”
“You do, huh?”
“I think you’re undercover. And I think you’re working on something major, and that your life depends on your cover. But listen, if you are, then we can work something out. The courts, they understand about this stuff. They can take your testimony without revealing your identity.”
“Stop,” she said, and he heard that he’d pushed a very major button. “You’re wrong. Let it go.”
“Only I’m not wrong.”
“Vince, listen to me. My heart breaks that I can’t help you. But I cannot help you.” She said it with such conviction that he almost believed her. Would have, if the stakes hadn’t been so high.
“Okay, fine. You can’t help me. But you’re still stuck here, and screw it, I’m still gonna hope you change your mind. There isn’t a damn thing we can do but wait while that gang is after you. So, if you’re not going to talk to me, you might as well help me pack up my mother’s crap.”
She looked so exasperated that he almost smiled. But he didn’t. He just got up and carried his plate to the sink. A few minutes later, she was beside him with her dishes. They got the work done silently, and that was okay. He still had time. He hoped that she would tell him the truth. Not just about what she’d seen in the hotel suite, but about why she’d cried such hard, hard tears. He’d really like to understand. And, God knew why, he’d like to help.
* * * * *
Seth had brought over some of the tranquilizer they’d used on a number of occasions, a gift of sorts from Harper. She hated it when any of them asked for her help, mostly because she was afraid she’d get her clinic in trouble. But she was a doctor, and she could get them stuff no one else could.
Nate liked Harper, and he felt bad that she was part of all this. Hell, he was sorry any of it had happened. But the one member of the team who kept him up nights was Tamara.
She didn’t look like a scientist. She looked like a grad student, someone in the English department studying Emily Dickinson. But inside that little brain of hers was the one thing that could destroy all of Omicron’s work.
Tamara had been recruited to work in the Balkans back in 2000. Of course, then she’d really been a grad student. She’d been lied to, and the idiots at Omicron had underestimated her. Their bad luck. Because when the team had gotten Tam out, she’d brought the key to their destruction with her. An antidote. In those last weeks just before the escape, she’d gotten her hands on the complete chemical makeup of the gas, and the work two of her colleagues had done on an antidote. She’d been working tirelessly since their return on testing the antidote, and coming up with a practical dispersal system.
The antidote would lessen the value of Omicron’s precious weapon considerably once Tam put the pieces all together. He wished things would move more quickly, but she was one woman, and the task was huge. Now that he knew that Omicron was stockpiling the gas, there was even more urgency. Not that he’d tell Tam. All he could do for her was keep her safe, keep her focused, keep her sane, to the best of his ability. None of which was easy.
Ideally, when they discovered who was really in charge of Omicron and they had the proof they needed, Tam would come forward. And Omicron’s precious weapon would be rendered obsolete before it could kill a single soul. If they could get the information they needed. If Omicron still believed the six of them remained a viable threat. If…
But for now, as always, Nate had to put one foot in front of the other. First, get Kate out of the state. Second, find out the exact location of the storage facility, then figure out what to do about it. Third, get some goddamn sleep so he could continue to function.
Seth had a connection to a car they’d use to get Kate out of town. It had plates that couldn’t be traced, and if she was stopped somewhere between L.A. and Colorado Springs, nothing would tip the police off. She’d be Kate Hogan by then. Going on vacation to visit her brother.
“Nate, listen up.”
He looked at Seth, who’d clearly been talking for a while, but he hadn’t heard a word. “Go ahead.”
Seth shook his head. “No, man. There’s no way I’m taking you with me. I’ll go see about the car myself.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“You’re a liability, you got that? You need some sleep. All I have to do is give the man the documents. There’s no reason you need to come along.”
Seth was right. He couldn’t put the sleep off any longer. He’d end up getting them all killed. “All right. I’ll leave the phone on.”
“Great.” Seth stood up, checked his briefcase, then headed toward the door. “Do not go online. Is that understood?”
Nate saluted. Then he stretched out on his small bed. He didn’t hear the door close.
* * * * *
She watched Vince as he grabbed all the books from the top shelf of the case and dropped them in a pile in a box. Kate shook her head in bafflement. If he wanted to throw the books away, he’d use a garbage bag. If he wanted to do something more productive with them, he was being a total idiot about it. “Where are those going?”
Vince jerked around, and she saw his hand went to where his weapon would be holstered in an automatic reaction to being startled. He recovered quickly. “I don’t know. Goodwill, I think.”
“Then don’t you think you should be a bit neater about boxing them up?”
“She’s got a billion books up here.”
“It’s not quite that bad,” Kate said, leaving her spot in the hall to join him in the living room. “Why don’t you hand them to me, and I’ll put them away.”
“Fine with me, as long as you don’t take forever. I want to clear this place out, and I swear she nev
er threw a damn thing away her whole life.”
“It’ll go fast enough.” She dumped the contents of the box on the floor, and gathered them together in a semblance of order. They were mostly paperback romances, but there were some hardcovers there, too. Some she’d love to take for herself, if she’d had a place to keep them. She missed books. She missed music, too. There was so much she’d left behind.
“Ready?”
She looked up. Vince, wearing a black T-shirt and jeans, looked very tall and imposing, standing on the ladder. The bookshelves were tall, all the way to the ceiling. “Did you build these shelves?”
“Yeah. I’m not a very good carpenter.”
“No, they’re great.”
“Well, she never wanted to part with her stories. She called them keepers, and given half a chance she’d tell you the whole book in one sitting.”
“I understand. I had a considerable keeper shelf myself.”
“Not anymore though, huh?”
“No. Not anymore.” She thought he was going to press, but he just handed her another stack of books. She put them away, thinking about the woman who’d loved them. When she took the next pile, she asked, “You don’t read?”
“Sure I do. But I don’t have an unnatural attachment to the damn books.”
“You’ve never read anything twice?”
“No. What’s the point? I already know what happens.”
She smiled. She’d heard of people like Vince, but she wasn’t one of them. Revisiting beloved books was one of her favorite things in the world. It didn’t matter how many times she’d read Pride and Prejudice, she still thrilled at that first kiss, wept when Elizabeth finally realized that Mr. Darcy loved her truly and beyond measure.
“What’s that sigh about?”
She grinned again. “Nothing you’d understand.”
“Fine,” he said. “Don’t tell me.”
He bent to give her more paperbacks, when something slipped from inside a book. She picked it up and found it was a picture of a young Vince, standing with a nice looking black man. They were both smiling over a trophy. “What’s this?”
