by LENA DIAZ,
He traced a finger down the side of her neck to the upper swells of her breasts. “Sometime, soon, I’d like to show you just how much I care.”
Her seat belt clicked. The armrest between them lifted. And suddenly she was lying on top of him, sprawled across both seats as he scooted down low in his own seat so that no one could see them. And then he was kissing her, devouring her, consuming her with a heat that fairly crackled around them. His hands were everywhere, stroking down her arms, around to her back, sliding up beneath her shirt to trace across her ribs. Everywhere he touched left a trail of fire. Her body softened and readied itself for him, and that’s when she knew she had to stop this madness. Because if she didn’t, she would tear off his clothes right here and make love to him—in a plane full of men on their way to stop a madman.
She broke the kiss and pulled his wicked hands down. “We have to stop,” she whispered.
His eyes were heavy-lidded, so dark they reminded her of the ocean right before a storm. He tugged one of his hands free from hers and lightly feathered her hair back from her face. Then he was lifting her, settling her back into her seat, securing her seat belt. He pressed a soft kiss against her lips then entwined his left hand with her right one.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m sorry that I hurt you at the warehouse. I’m sorry that I risked your friends’ lives to save you. But, Bailey, I’d do it again.”
“I know,” she said. “And I still may not really understand why you seem to care so much about me. But I do understand why you did what you did. And I’m sorry, too. I should have trusted you more. I should have known you would never become one of the bad guys. I’m sorry that I didn’t have enough faith in you. You deserve better than that, Kade. You deserve better than me.”
He slowly shook his head. “Sweetheart, no one’s better than you.”
Her heart clutched in her chest. Such beautiful words. And yet, they only proved that the woman he cared about was really a fantasy. He seemed to think she was a good person. But she wasn’t. Not even close.
“Bailey?”
She ignored him.
“Bailey, what’s wrong? Did I say something to upset you?”
She squeezed her eyes shut, drew a shaky breath. “If you think I’m a good person, then you don’t know me at all. You’ve convinced yourself that I’m in this because I care about people, that I’m not a monster deep inside. But you’ve never really asked me the one question you should have asked in the beginning. Ask me, Kade. Ask me the one thing you want to know, need to know about me. And then we’ll see whether you think there’s anyone better than me.”
She rolled her head on the seat back to look at him. A tear traced down her cheek, and she angrily wiped it away. He was watching her intently again, his jaw tight, his lips drawn into a firm line.
“Ask me,” she whispered.
He drew a shuddering breath, then said, “Why did you become an Enforcer?”
“There it is,” she said, wiping another tear from her cheek. “It all boils down to that one question, doesn’t it? You can only care about a woman like me if you whitewash the truth and ignore the person that I really am. I don’t regret my decision, Kade. If I had to do it all over again, I would still have said yes the day that one of Cyprian’s men approached me about working for EXIT. Not because I have a driving need to prevent another 9/11. Not because I’m altruistic and searching for justice in a world where very few people really get justice. No, my reason, my one and only reason for becoming an Enforcer is far more gritty, more simple, and yes, far more selfish—I didn’t want to go to prison.”
Chapter Twenty-one
Thursday, 10:47 p.m.
Bailey ran her hands across the cool, smooth Carrara marble island in Mason Hunt’s kitchen. She didn’t think she’d ever seen a more beautiful home. His Asheville house was probably large by most people’s standards, a mansion by hers. She’d been so busy traveling and working for EXIT that she’d never chosen a place to settle down. Even the houses she’d bought, scattered around the country, looked pretty much the way they did when she’d purchased them. They were investments, nothing to decorate or to put the time in to make them, well, a home. Seeing this place had her dreaming dreams she’d never dared before, like falling in love, starting a family.
“Can’t sleep either?”
She clutched the edge of the counter at the sound of the deep, familiar voice behind her. Then she slowly turned around. Kade lounged in the doorway about five feet away, his broad shoulders taking up most of the space. His hair was slightly damp and he was wearing a different shirt since the planning session for tomorrow’s assault on EXIT had broken up. Had he gone for a swim in the pool? Or taken a shower?
“You’ve been avoiding me since the plane. We really need to talk.” He straightened and walked toward her.
“You aren’t limping,” she said, surprised.
“All that exercise in the caves might have hurt like hell but it loosened up the muscles. After a few minutes in the hot tub I’m feeling better than I have in ages.”
“Maybe you should buy a hot tub then, after all of this is over.”
“Maybe.”
He stopped in front of her, forcing her to lean her head back to meet his gaze.
“Where do you live anyway?” she asked. “I mean, really live. When you’re not in an FBI rental.”
“Jacksonville, just south of the Georgia border on the Atlantic Ocean. I grew up there, have pretty much spent my whole life there, except for when I’m traveling on assignment. That’s where my dad is, so I imagine I’ll go back there once Faegan is captured. Unless someone gives me a reason not to.”
She clutched the countertop harder. “I’ve never cared much for the beach. I’m more of a mountain and snow girl myself. Montana.”
He nodded, not looking surprised. Her heart stuttered. Did he already know about her past?
He edged a little closer. “The tide is turning. Mason and Devlin’s reconnaissance tonight proved what we thought, that the EXIT building is being used by Faegan’s men. Security is tight, but we’ll figure out a way in tomorrow. We’re optimistic that we’ll find the prisoners there.”
She should have been happy, thinking about possibly finding her missing friends. Instead, all she could think about was this incredible man standing in front of her.
His right hand lifted toward her face, as if he wanted to touch her. But then he lowered it to his side. His deep blue eyes were so intent, as if searching for . . . something. He seemed . . . different, somehow. Something elemental had . . . changed between them since that plane trip.
It was as if she was seeing the real Kade for the first time, the man he’d been before Faegan’s horrible manipulations, and the accident, and the fake-Abby guilt he’d borne for so long. This Kade was confident, strong, willing to put himself in danger to save her, but not recklessly as he’d done before. This Kade was tender touches, wild kisses, and impossible dreams. He was the reason she was admiring marble countertops, and thinking about the future.
And it terrified her.
She was terrified that, if he knew the truth, he would reject her, turn away in disgust, and never want to see her again. She was even more terrified that he wouldn’t.
“Bailey, about what you said on the plane. I need you to know that I—”
“I’m surprised Mason isn’t worried that someone from EXIT will look for us here.” She waved at the opulent kitchen surrounding them. “And even more surprised that he didn’t send his wife into hiding like everyone else has done.”
He glanced around the kitchen as if noticing it for the first time, then shrugged. “I imagine it’s listed under an alias or he wouldn’t have risked bringing us here. Faegan isn’t as good at ferreting out property records as I am.” He smiled. “And from the argument I heard out by the pool earlier, the fact that Sabrina was here when we arrived was just as much a surprise to Mason as it was to anyone else. I gather he’d told her to go off th
e grid and she’d refused.”
“By the pool?”
“I was in the hot tub and they didn’t notice. I was about to announce my presence when they, well, ended the argument. Let’s just say, don’t go near the pool for a while. I think they’re still out there.”
A burst of laughter escaped her and she covered her mouth, looking around, worried she might wake someone. She wasn’t exactly sure where everyone else was bunking for the night. Someone might even be out in the family room on a couch.
“I love when you smile. It makes your eyes light up.” This time when he lifted his hand, he didn’t stop. He gently traced her jaw. “Bailey, I’ve made some poor choices over the past few months. Hell, the past year. But the ones that I regret most are the ones that hurt you.”
His hands shook as he caressed her face. “It kills me to think that if you hadn’t gotten away that first night, I would have turned you over to Faegan.” He shuddered and pulled her against him, wrapping his arms around her, with his cheek against the top of her head. “I’m so, so sorry, sweetheart,” he whispered.
She blinked at the endearment that was fast becoming a habit of his, and tried not to melt against him. He held her, gently swaying as if to music only he could hear. Except that she could swear that she heard it, too—in the feel of his strong arms around her, in the whisper of his breath against her hair, in the thud of his heartbeat beneath her ear.
Danger. Her mind screamed the word. This Kade could destroy her. He couldn’t know what he was doing, looking and smelling so wonderful, calling her sweetheart, holding her like he never wanted to let her go. It was cruel, to both of them.
She pushed against him, forcing him to drop his arms and step back.
“I can’t do this,” she whispered. “You’re making me want things I can never have.”
“Sweetheart—”
“Stop calling me that. I’m not who you think I am.”
“I know you, Bailey. You don’t have to be afraid. Let’s go somewhere and talk—”
“I have to get some sleep,” she said. “It’s a big day tomorrow.” She headed toward the kitchen side door that led outside.
Kade was suddenly there, moving faster, and more gracefully, than she’d ever seen him move. He opened the door for her, and waited.
“Thank you. Good night.” She stepped outside, and started down the brick path toward the guesthouse at the back of the property that she’d been given for the night. Parts of the path curved right beside the pool, with gaps in the foliage to open up the view. She glanced through one of the gaps and was relieved to see the pool area was empty. Mason and his wife must have gone back inside the house.
The sound of humming had her turning around.
Kade was just a few steps behind her, humming some kind of upbeat tune. He stopped when she stopped, and arched a brow in question.
“I’m going to my guesthouse,” she said. “Where are you going?”
“To my guesthouse.”
She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “I thought there was only one.”
He blinked. “Surely Mason wouldn’t have assigned us to the same sleeping quarters.” He opened his right hand to reveal a small key. “I guess we’ll just have to find out.” He took her hand in his and tugged her along with him.
She was too surprised by this flirtatious—and far-too-charming—side of him to pull back. Besides, his hand holding hers felt too good to stop just yet. They headed down the long, curvy path until it stopped at a little one-story cottage. White railings boxed in a quaint front porch, with a trellis of thick, green leaves climbing up both sides to provide privacy. She imagined the vines would be thick with some kind of blooms every spring.
He slid his key into the lock and watched her as he turned it. The lock clicked.
“Looks like this cottage is mine,” he announced, as he pushed the door open.
Bailey leaned past him, looking for another cottage. But she didn’t see any. “Mason must have made a mistake.”
He leaned inside the cottage, looking around, then straightened. “I don’t think so. The main house is big, but there are only so many guest rooms. This one looks to have a bedroom and a very comfy couch. He probably assumed we could share.” He arched a brow. “Or are you afraid of being in the same house with me?”
She narrowed her eyes. “I’m not afraid of you.”
He braced his arm on the railing beside her and leaned in close. “Then what are you afraid of?”
Teasing Kade was gone, and in his place was a man determined to get the truth.
“I don’t want to talk to you right now.”
“Tough.”
She blinked. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” He shifted, bracing both hands on the railing on either side of her, boxing her in. “Ask me.”
“Ask you what?”
“Ask me. Ask me what you most want to know. Ask me the one question you should have asked on the plane, but were too much of a coward to ask. You can’t just throw a comment out like you did and shut me down afterward. You never even gave me a chance to talk it out. People who care about each other—”
“Share,” she whispered.
He nodded. “Let’s try it again. Why did you become an Enforcer, Bailey?”
She swallowed, licked her lips. “Because I didn’t want to go to prison.”
“And what does going to prison have to do with deciding to become an Enforcer?”
She pushed against his chest. He grabbed her hands, threaded his fingers through hers. “Bailey, you have to know that I already know everything about you, everything that can be read on paper at least. It was part of my research to decide the best way to capture you.”
Her eyes widened. “No. You can’t know.”
“Why not? Because I’d feel differently about you if I did? Because I wouldn’t want you if I knew what happened after your parents died and you were placed in foster care? That you made friends with another foster girl in the same home. And that you found out she was being abused.”
“Wendy,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “I told them, anyone who would listen. And the state came and investigated.” She fisted her hands at her sides. “She was so scared, too scared to tell the truth. So when they asked her about what I’d said, she lied and told them I was making up stories. They left her in the home and moved me to another home. I didn’t help her. I wasn’t strong enough to make them see what was really happening.”
He smoothed her hair out of her eyes. “You were eleven. You didn’t fail her. The adults in that home, her social worker, they were the ones who failed.”
She shook her head.
“Then there was Samuel,” he whispered, stroking her cheek. “He was bullied at school. You stuck up for him, ended up in the hospital.”
“I failed again. Interfering only made it worse. And I was declared too violent to return to that school. The government put me in a school for troubled kids.” She laughed bitterly. “I had to defend myself. They picked on me, called me names, put bugs in my food. I had to defend myself.”
“I know, sweetheart. You were strong. You did what you had to do.”
She ducked away from his hand. “Stop acting like I’m normal, like I’m not defective and violent and . . . just stop. I beat up a kid at that school, broke his arm, his nose, gave him a concussion. I could have killed him.”
“But you didn’t.”
She raked a hand through her hair, shoving it back off her shoulders. “I was an idiot. I ran away and did what a normal kid would never do. I joined the freaking militia. Is that in your reports, too, Kade? I was a gun-toting, radical, crazy person trying to stick it to ‘the man.’”
“You were trying to survive,” he said, still with absolutely no judgment in his voice, in his eyes. “Your parents were killed and the government never found the killer. They threw you into the system. But instead of putting you in a loving foster home, they stuck you in a bad one. When you told them about t
he abuse, they punished you instead of the abuser. And when you stood up to bullying, once again the government stepped in, placing you in a facility for juvenile delinquents where you had to fight out of self-defense. Bailey, good grief. You’re a poster child for the kind of background that makes a person desperate and easy prey for groups like the militia. Hell, I might have done the same thing in your circumstances. No, scratch that. I probably wouldn’t have even survived.”
He grasped her shoulders, making her look at him. “You got mixed up with some lunatics and did what you had to do to survive. And when the government came down on the militia, that’s when someone else preyed upon you again. Someone from EXIT offered to get you out of a possible prison sentence if you joined their organization. You were eighteen. Almost half your life you were used, abused, trod on, and forced to fight for your very life. Is it any wonder that when EXIT offered you a chance to break the government’s own rules, to give the finger to traditional law enforcement and fight for justice for the common man, that you jumped at it?”
“You don’t get it, Kade. I’ve killed people.”
“So have I. As part of my job, when I had to.”
“That’s just it. I didn’t have to. I wasn’t upholding any laws. I got an EXIT order and I enforced it, took people out. That’s not something you can just look at and say it’s okay. I’m not the good person you want me to be.”
“Are Mason, Devlin, and the others bad people?”
“No.”
“They were Enforcers, too.”
“I know, but—”
“But nothing,” he said. “People are complicated, Bailey. They make choices for a variety of reasons. But when you boil it all down, you and the others killed people who needed killing. There. I said it. Does that shock you? Mr. Law and Order agrees that the people you’ve killed weren’t the types of people who should be walking around on this planet, breathing the same air as you and me. I bet if you asked any cop out there, any decent, law-abiding citizen in this country that if they knew what they knew now, and could take out those terrorists before they took out the twin towers, they’d do it. Hell, I’d stand in line for the privilege.”
