by Katie Reus
Alena pushed back her temper, not wanting to take anything out on her sister. For so long she and Nika had wanted the same thing. Suddenly things had changed. She didn’t understand why her sister wasn’t supporting her anymore. It wasn’t because she cared if Yasha lived. “Is this about the security guy you’re sleeping with?” She didn’t want to even say his name aloud. It made things much too personal.
“Declan has nothing to do with it.” The look in her sister’s eyes told a different story, which surprised Alena. Nika almost never got involved with or slept with anyone. “This is about you. I’m worried about you.”
“I’m not going to get caught.” If she thought she might be putting Nika in danger, she’d send her sister packing. She’d been a little nervous before, but the plan to take out Yasha was perfect. As if it had been dropped into her lap.
Yasha’s men and even Andre’s security would be more focused on outside threats or more obvious weapons. They wouldn’t expect someone to poison Yasha. And especially not the woman whose life he’d attempted to save. On the outside she was just a silly socialite. He’d never suspect her. Things were going perfectly according to plan. No one else would be hurt and the world would be saved from a monster. Yasha was an absolute waste of space and his death would never weigh on her conscience.
“That’s not the point. How can you be so callous to Andre?”
Alena’s stomach twisted at her sister’s words. Nika didn’t understand. She hadn’t seen the carnage Alena had witnessed. Nika was too young to remember, but Alena wasn’t. Thinking about her mother’s broken body always made her sick so she pushed the visions away. Instead of responding to her sister, she hoisted herself up out of the pool and strode across the tile. Without a backward glance, she wrung the water from her hair, then grabbed a towel and wrapped it around her bikini-clad body.
Behind her she heard Nika’s splash and knew she’d started laps again. Nika would thank her in the long run. Once Yasha was finally dead, maybe she could have a normal life. Normal relationships. Just knowing that man was alive and her parents weren’t made it impossible to think about anything else. Her whole life had been building up to this moment. She wasn’t going to waste the best opportunity they might ever have.
Alena hurried through the expansive house, ignoring the covert looks from some of the security guys. Holding her breath, she knocked on Andre’s office door. It swung open a few seconds later. His harsh expression softened the second he saw her. In that moment, she actually hated herself. Not because of what she was going to do to Yasha, but because Andre was exactly the kind of man she’d always wanted. Kind, protective, intelligent and very sexy. She didn’t want to use or hurt him but she couldn’t see another way around it.
Chapter 24
Declan stared at his computer screen. Shit, shit, shit. He wished what he was seeing wasn’t true, but he knew it was. It had to be. His former handler for the CIA wouldn’t make a mistake. Not one like this. And he wouldn’t have passed on this information lightly. Carlisle had to be risking a lot by giving him this file.
As the door to Andre’s office opened, he automatically snapped his laptop shut.
Odell smiled when he saw him. “Hey, boss. I just heard the cops busted those guys down at the warehouse. That’s great.”
“Yeah it is. We’re one step closer now.”
“I’m still working on running the backgrounds of everyone you asked.” Odell glanced over his shoulder at the closed door then back at Declan. “I think I might have found an interesting connection with Andre’s assistant in Vegas and some low-level thugs here in Miami.”
He straightened. “You’re sure?”
Odell quickly shook his head. “I’m still running financials and other records so don’t get too excited. I might have found a connection, but I’m still following up on some leads. I’ll have something very soon. I just wanted to give you a heads up.”
Declan wanted to stay and wait until Odell was done but knew how long Odell’s searches could take. “I’ve got to take care of something but I’ll be back downstairs soon. Don’t tell anyone what you found, including Andre. He’s still…”
“Upstairs with Alena, I know.” Odell smothered a chuckle and sat in front of his computer screen.
Gathering his laptop and the pictures he’d printed before Odell had come in, Declan headed upstairs. According to the reports his men had given him, Nika should be upstairs. She’d made a few phone calls—and he planned to find out to whom—then she’d spent most of the morning in the swimming pool. But they said she’d settled in her room and hadn’t left in the past hour.
Bracing himself for what he knew was going to come, he knocked on the door. A few seconds later it swung open. Her dark hair was pulled into a damp ponytail and she wore faded jeans and a three-quarter sleeve blue sweater. As he drank in her appearance, he realized she wasn’t wearing a bra. Every protective and primal instinct inside him jumped to attention, but he pushed it back down. That wasn’t why he’d come to see her.
“Hey, I thought you were Alena.” She sounded almost out of breath. Or maybe she was just nervous. He reached out to touch her, kiss her, he wasn’t exactly sure what, but stopped himself and ignored the hurt look that flitted across her features when he pulled back.
He had to do this now. He needed to hear the truth from her lips and he couldn’t let his lust or anything else get in the way of that. “Can I talk to you in private?”
She frowned, but stepped back and let him enter. He shut the door then set his laptop on the nightstand. Instead of putting the pictures down, he held them against his chest. She stood by the edge of the bed, arms crossed over her chest.
“I’m going to ask you this once. Who are you and what are you and your sister doing here?”
She went still, her breath catching just the slightest fraction. “What are you talking about?”
“Tell me your real name, damn it.” He thought he had his emotions under control, but he couldn’t stand the thought of her lying to him. Not Nika. After what they’d shared, he expected…he didn’t know what he expected, but he wanted the truth.
“You know my name.” She tried to take a step back, but there was nowhere for her to go. The backs of her knees collided with the bed.
“I ran the fingerprints on the pistol your sister gave me.”
She stuck her chin out. “So?”
“There were only one set of prints. Female prints. Want to guess what they turned up? I got a hit on a flagged, top secret, CIA file.”
Her face paled but she didn’t respond.
“Want to tell me what your name is now?”
“Nika Brennan,” she whispered.
He took a few steps closer to her so that barely a foot of space separated them. For his own sanity he should keep his distance, but he wanted to intimidate her. Maybe he should be ashamed of that, but he was going to hear the truth from her one way or another.
“The name on the file I received said the fingerprints belonged to an Angel Aston. Missing at the age of ten. Her five-year-old sister went missing too. Her name was Sasha.”
Nika swallowed hard, but still didn’t respond.
“Say something,” he demanded. He wanted her to say something. Anything. Scream at him. Just tell him the fucking truth.
Her gaze flickered around the room and he knew she was gauging if she could dart past him and make an escape. Where the hell she thought she could go was anyone’s guess.
“Don’t even think about running. You won’t make it out the front door.” Now, he stepped forward until his body was pressed against hers. Heat and fear rolled off her body, nearly suffocating him.
The small movement propelled her into action. In a surprising move, she shoved at his chest. “I don’t know what you want from me! Whatever you think you know, you’re wrong!”
When she pushed him, he grabbed her wrist. In doing so, the pictures he’d been holding fell from his hands. “Shit,” he muttered. He’d printe
d the pictures out as proof for his records, but hadn’t planned to show them to her unless he had to.
Her gaze tracked the fallen photos. “Oh my God,” she gasped.
When she yanked and wrenched her wrist away, he let go of her, not wanting to hurt her. She collapsed onto her knees and grasped the picture of the entire Aston family. Anya and Blake Aston and their two children, Angel and Sasha. It must have been taken at Christmas time. Despite the differences in their ages, the two little girls wore matching red and white frilly dresses. And they looked happy. Normal. The perfect American family.
He kneeled next to her but she didn’t seem to notice. Underneath the few family photos was a picture of the crime scene of the dead Astons. He yanked it away and folded it before shoving it in his back pocket. No matter that she’d been lying to him, he wasn’t cruel enough to show her that. No one needed to see something like that.
“I don’t even have a picture of all of us,” she whispered. As soon as the words were out, she sucked in a breath, no doubt realizing what she’d confessed. Unshed tears filled her bright green eyes. “What do you want from me?” she whispered.
When she looked at him with that broken gaze, something sharp and jagged twisted in his chest, puncturing deep. He might have promised Vernon he’d keep an eye on the Brennan sisters, but he’d only promised to make sure they didn’t harm Yasha. And he didn’t know if they planned to. He didn’t have to turn Nika and Alena over to anyone. He wasn’t going to. He couldn’t. He wasn’t sure what his feelings were for Nika but if he betrayed her, he knew he’d regret it for the rest of his life. He’d done a lot of things that he wished he could take back but this…hurting her in this way would be the one thing he wouldn’t be able to take back.
“Nika…” His words trailed off. What was he supposed to say now?
Looking away, she stared at the floor. “What’s that?”
When he realized what she meant, before he could stop her, she’d snatched up one of the crime scene photos.
“Oh my God.” The words came out as a soft, ragged, whisper.
“Don’t.” He tried to take it from her hands but she was fast.
Lightning quick and picture in hand, she sprung to her feet and raced for the bathroom. As he raced after her, he could hear her retching in the other room. She probably wanted privacy but he didn’t care. He found her bent over the toilet. Her hair was pulled back but stray wisps fell around her face.
He gathered the loose strands and held them back. A low keening sound came from her, like a wounded animal might make, so he rubbed her back in gentle little circles as she clutched the edge of the porcelain ring.
“It’s okay. Get it all out,” he murmured.
She did until finally she shut the toilet seat and buried her face in her hands. He spied the picture she’d grabbed next to her knee so he quickly shoved it in his back pocket to join the other one. No wonder she’d reacted this way. It was a picture of her mother’s naked bloody body so brutalized it looked as if she’d been attacked by wild animals. He wanted to throw up himself.
“Come on.” Declan helped her stand, then brought her to the sink. He turned on the water and even though she didn’t look at him, she seemed to understand. She washed her hands, rinsed out her mouth, then patted cold water on her face.
“How did you get those pictures?” she asked in a monotone voice that tore razorblades through his chest.
The last thing he wanted was for her to close herself off from him. Not now. “It’s not important.”
“Tell me.” She finally looked at him. The raw pain he saw in her eyes nearly made him stumble.
“I…when I got the hit on those fingerprints and realized who your sister was, it wasn’t hard to figure out who you were. Your parents were more or less legends in The Agency and when their children went missing…” He shrugged, hoping she wouldn’t press much harder. He couldn’t tell her he’d been sent to spy on her and that he’d gone dream walking inside her head intentionally. Not yet anyway.
It was hard to fathom that she was one of the missing Aston girls. Many in clandestine circles knew about the Aston incident and it wasn’t pretty. Twenty years ago, two of the CIA’s best double-agents had been murdered in their own home on Christmas Eve. The husband had been killed first, and the wife had been raped repeatedly before she’d been beaten to death. The two children were never found. It was assumed someone had dumped their bodies—or worse.
“You know who my parents were?”
He nodded. “They were very good at what they did and their deaths affected a lot of government agencies.”
“Really?” The sad note in her voice pulled even harder at his heartstrings and he realized she probably didn’t know much about her own parents.
“Yes. They were very respected. There’s a memorial dedicated to them.” He probably shouldn’t have told her the last part but he didn’t care.
“I don’t know anything about them other than what they did for a living. And I only learned after they died. Growing up, we didn’t talk about them. Ever.” She collapsed onto the bed so he sat next to her. A few tears spilled down her cheeks. Not caring about the consequences, he cupped her jaw and rubbed his thumb over her soft skin, catching her tears.
“Are you going to tell anyone?” she whispered.
“Not right now.” Later, yeah, but for now he wouldn’t.
She bit her bottom lip and eyed him warily. “After my parents were killed, a relative took us in and changed our name.”
A burst of relief coursed through him that she trusted him enough to tell him that much. “Why?”
“If you know who my parents were, you know that someone murdered them. My…relative didn’t think it would be safe for us. I was so young, I don’t really remember much. I just know that when I was five-years-old, I became Nika Brennan and I’ve never thought of myself as anyone else.”
“It’s been two decades, though.” He tried to push for information without seeming like he was interrogating her. Especially when all he wanted to do was comfort her.
“So? If we do admit who we are, how would we explain how we changed our names without hurting…our relative? What good would it do? Those girls died that night and it needs to stay that way.” There was a desperation in her voice now.
Declan frowned as some of the puzzle pieces clicked together. It was possible Yasha had been involved in the murder of her parents. Twenty years ago the man had worked with the Lazarev brothers. Now that they were dead—possibly at the hands of Nika and Alena—Yasha could be on their hit list.
He paused, waiting for her to continue, but it was obvious she had no intention of telling him more than she already had. He wondered if she actually knew who’d killed her parents but that left the question of how the hell she even would know. If he had to guess, he’d say the ‘relative’ or whoever had taken them in worked in covert ops or something similar. It was the only thing that made sense for how well they’d completely and utterly gone off the grid.
Declan knew he should grill her, push her now when she was vulnerable, but fuck him, he couldn’t do it. Just couldn’t.
She watched him carefully now and he could see the shock and adrenaline fading to be replaced by a bone-deep weariness. He’d seen it more times than he cared to count on the battlefield and when he’d been with The Agency. Adrenaline dumps of a certain magnitude could leave someone feeling as if they’d gone twelve rounds in a ring.
The shock of seeing those pictures and the revelation that someone knew her true identity had taken a toll. He scooted closer on the bed until their knees were touching. “I won’t hurt you, Nika.”
“And you won’t tell Andre or anyone else who we are?” she whispered.
Unless it was necessary. But, he didn’t say what he was thinking. It would only upset her more. Instead, he shook his head. “I can only promise that I will never intentionally hurt you.”
She reached out a tentative hand and cupped his cheek. The gesture
surprised him. It must have shown on his face.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“For what?”
A small smile teased at her full lips. “For everything. No one knows who we are and…just thank you for not saying anything. Seeing those pictures…it’s a shock.”
A knot twisted in his stomach. He placed his own hand over hers and squeezed. Against his better judgment, he leaned close and kissed away the remaining tears on her cheeks. “Why don’t you get a quick nap in before dinner?” God knew she’d need to take the edge off.
For a second it appeared as if she might argue, but she laid back against the pillow and curled onto her side. She looked so damn fragile he ached watching her. “Is it okay if I keep the pictures of my parents? When we left…it was in a hurry and we weren’t allowed to take any reminders of our lives.”
Even if he’d wanted to, he couldn’t deny her request. The pleading note in her voice made it impossible. “For your sake, hide it somewhere safe.”
Nodding, she clutched the photo against her chest. He picked up the rest of the fallen photos and slid a couple of the family shots into the nightstand drawer facedown. “We have more to talk about, Nika.”
“I know,” she whispered.
He dropped a kiss on her forehead before gathering the rest of his stuff and leaving the room. They had a hell of a lot more to talk about than she realized. She no doubt assumed he meant about them, but one way or another he was going to have to tell her the whole truth.
If she and her sister went after Yasha he’d be forced to stop them. And if he had to expose their true identity, so be it. He just hoped she’d be able to forgive him if it came down to that.
Chapter 25
Nika opened her eyes and at once knew she was in a dream state. The earthy tones of the bedroom were muted and dull in that old photograph style. A slight movement by the door made her turn.
It was Selina, the same little girl who’d visited her before.
