A Kiss of Revenge (Entangled Ignite)

by Natalie Damschroder

  “I’ll purchase this, then.” He removed a checkbook from his pocket and began scrawling. “And the negative, as well, if the photographer uses film.”

  The woman looked puzzled. “My husband destroys them. Each photo is one of a kind and can never be duplicated. That’s why they’re priced so high.”

  The man ripped off the check and handed it to her. He practically vibrated as he waited for her to take the framed photo down and hand it to him, then took off toward the parking area.

  What was in that photo he didn’t want anyone to see?

  She sighed as if she couldn’t find something she liked in the bin, then followed the man across the grass at a casual stroll. He held the framed photo almost carelessly, dangling by his side, and looked as if he was on the phone again. There were fewer people around so getting closer was risky, but she had to try to hear him again. She quickened her pace and closed the gap.

  “—Said there were no negatives, but we should flag the photographer’s name to make sure another photo doesn’t surface… Yes, Skav, you did good work, alerting us to its existence… It doesn’t matter that it’s not incriminating. Our employer values his privacy… I don’t think you should expect more than a simple ‘Thank you’ for doing your job.” He tapped the Bluetooth again and removed a set of keys from his pocket.

  His tone had been dismissive, so Skav must be a subordinate and this guy probably fancied himself their “employer’s” right-hand man. She should follow him. He climbed into a Mercedes half a dozen cars away. She couldn’t see the license plate from here, and would have to get too close to get a look. Then she wouldn’t have time to follow him. She tried to pinpoint where her car was parked in relation to here, then suddenly remembered she was no longer alone.

  She cursed eight ways and dashed back around the outside of the booths, trying to remember where she’d left Griff. He was going to kill her when he found out what she’d just done.

  She skidded to a stop near the point where she’d first seen the suit. Griff stood between two booths a couple dozen feet away, stone-faced as he studied the crowd. His gaze landed on her but instead of looking relieved, he managed a complicated combination of an inquiring eyebrow and chastising frown.

  “Where were you?” he asked when she got close enough.

  “I found something.” She nudged him to walk toward the parking lot while she caught her breath. Once they were out of the worst of the crowd, she told him what she’d overheard and seen. “I couldn’t get a license plate number, but it’s something, right? One step closer.”

  “If you say so.”

  She bit her tongue. Arguing would only take them down a road she didn’t want to travel. Breaking into that house was still her best option, and he would try to talk her out of it. She spotted her car parked on the grass and waved a hand. “Where are you parked?”

  “Out there.” He indicated the street outside the park and reached into his back pocket. “But hang on a sec.” He pulled out a small pink paper bag.

  She knew what it was. Her heart pounded at the implications. “Griff, no.”

  “Yes. Close your eyes.”

  She did, reluctantly, unsure how to graciously decline. She felt his arms circle her shoulders, then a moment later a light weight against her chest. A stupid tear leaked out of her left eye. He’d bought her the butterfly and the branch.

  “Why—”

  “Because it’s…you.” His hands closed over her shoulders, warmth seeping immediately through her cotton shirt. She kept her gaze down and stroked a finger over the delicate filigree of the butterfly. His voice eased through her, deep and low, and awakened nerve endings that had been dormant a very long time.

  “She could have made this just for you,” he told her. “Deceptively delicate, exceedingly vulnerable, but also unbreakable to the core.”

  No one had ever said something so beautiful about her before.

  Confusion swirled through her, combined with a longing that ached deep within. “Griff,” she whispered, lifting her head to meet his blazing eyes.

  He didn’t give her time to say more. His lips covered hers, soft and tender but insistent enough to render her powerless. She let her body settle against his. It seemed like forever since she’d been kissed. Touched. She moaned, and he made a noise in his throat and tugged her tight against him, one hand hard at the small of her back, the other around the nape of her neck. The rasp of his calloused fingertips sent shivers through her whole body, the delicious kind that sparked desire in their wake. She parted her lips and let him in, and his tongue swept carefully inside, exploring, tasting, igniting.

  When it happened, it wasn’t like in the nursing home, with a prickle of warning and a hum in her ears. Electricity flashed like lightning as she gave in to the power of her feelings and her body yielded. She couldn’t stop it, not in time. The kiss had opened her to the flow that was always pressing in on her, and this time, it didn’t just pour out.

  It blasted Griff.

  He jerked back, staring at her with shocked pain. She couldn’t move, appalled by what had just happened. She’d killed him, was her first thought, despite the reality in front of her. He hadn’t even been knocked off his feet. But his lips were reddening and they must have hurt, as he held his hand up like he wanted to touch them but was afraid to.

  “What the hell?”

  “I don’t know. I’m so sorry.” She reached out but stopped, afraid to touch him. “Are you all right?”

  “Yeah, ’course.” But the redness in his lips was deepening and he swayed where he stood. She snapped out of her horror, slammed down her shields, and caught his elbow. “We need to take you to the hospital.”

  “No way. This was nothin’. Juss a little shock.” He tried to pull his arm away, but the action had no force behind it and his eyes had started to glaze over. Damn. She dragged him to her car and forced him into the passenger’s side.

  “They’ll find out ’bout you,” he protested when she climbed in.

  “No, they won’t.” At the moment, she didn’t care if they did. The knowledge of how badly he could be hurt made her feel sick. She zipped out of the parking space, cutting off a slow-moving Olds, and acknowledged the old man’s one-finger salute with a friendly wave. “Hold on, Griff. It’s not far.”

  The traffic between the lake and the hospital was sparse, so she didn’t have to show off the pole position skills she’d developed living in DC. By the time they got to the ER, Griff seemed much steadier, no longer swaying when he climbed out of the passenger seat.

  “I’m okay, Reese, I don’t need to be here. There’s no way to explain this without getting you in trouble.” He frowned and winced when his fingers brushed his lips.

  She’d focused during the drive on making sure her shields stayed in place, but gingerly laid her hand on his arm. His body hummed like an open circuit. Okay, that was it. Drastic measures were needed.

  She let tears come to her eyes. “Please, Griff, I’m scared you’re really hurt and don’t know it.”

  He laughed. “Nice try. But if it will make you feel better, I’ll let them check me over.” He slung an arm over her shoulder and almost made her cry for real with his lack of hesitation. Despite what she’d done to him, he wasn’t afraid of her.

  They told the triage nurse he’d gotten an electric shock on the job, working construction, and Reese said several prayers of thanks when she didn’t ask any questions about the how, only the what. He was asked questions about tingling, paralysis, vision, hearing, speech, and even symptoms related to his heart. Then they were sent to wait for another nurse to call them back.

  “Do you want some water?” Reese asked him once they were settled in the waiting room. She felt jittery and needed to move, but also to help.

  “Sounds good.” Griff’s eyelids drooped.

  “Be right back.” She hurried over to a water cooler on the other side of the room and filled a couple of cups. He was still awake when she returned to his side, and e
ven though the nurse hadn’t said so, she felt it was a bad idea to let him fall asleep. She cast about for a safe topic, and for some reason landed on Brian.

  “I didn’t tell you about the surgery.” She launched into an explanation of the neurosurgery and stimulator and what it could mean for her husband and, by extension, her marriage. When she finished, Griff studied her with a small smile and a sad look in his eyes.

  “Griffin Chase?” called a man from the doorway.

  They rose and crossed the tile floor to him. He watched the way Griff walked and asked, “You okay, or should I get a wheelchair?”

  “I’m okay.” He proved it by straightening up and walking normally through the wide automatic doors. The guy took them to a curtained cubicle and asked more questions, then left them with a gown and said the doctor would be with them shortly.

  “I’ll step out so you can change,” Reese told Griff.

  “Hey, wait.” He caught her fingers and gave her a steady look. “I’m glad for you guys, about Brian’s surgery. And I’m sorry for what happened back there.”

  She shook her head. “I’m the one who’s sorry. I can’t believe I did that to you. I—”

  “Shh.” He touched her mouth for a second, but it was long enough to jolt her. Not the way she’d jolted him, but with a connection, a reality she wasn’t prepared for.

  “When’s the surgery?”

  “Soon. They don’t have a date yet. But after that, it could take months, even years before we know what the outcome will be.”

  He smiled. “I can wait.”

  Her breath caught at the promise. She didn’t deserve that. She couldn’t allow it. But would rejecting it lose her everything?

  She backed away. “I’d better let you get changed before the doctor shows up.” She whipped the curtain around her, and came face to face with Andrew Laine. Shit.

  He watched as she made sure the curtain was fully closed. “Are you okay?” he asked her.

  “Me? Yes.” She walked toward the waiting room, needing to get Andrew away from Griff before he heard the circumstances of his injury and also not wanting Griff to overhear her conversation with the chief, who was certain to ask her questions she would prefer not to answer at all. “A friend was hurt at the park.”

  “Anyone I know?” They exited into the waiting area, and she bent to get a drink from the fountain.

  She straightened and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “No, a friend from out of town. He’s okay, it’s minor.” She hoped. “What are you doing here?”

  He aimed a thumb upward. “Complicated psych admission. Security needed backup.” He cleared his throat. “I couldn’t help overhear as I was passing by.”

  Yeah, passing by her ass. He’d been standing there as if waiting for her when she opened that curtain. She said nothing.

  “Brian’s your husband? The one you said is unresponsive?”

  As if she could have more than one at a time. The truth wasn’t much more bizarre, so she kept her snark to herself. “Yes.”

  “There’s a chance he could recover?”

  “Possibly.”

  He didn’t seem fazed by her uncommunicativeness. “Good. I’m happy for you both.” He glanced back at the doors. She followed his gaze and spotted a white-coated man entering Griff’s cubicle.

  “I should let you get back to your friend. How long is he staying?”

  “I don’t know,” she answered. “It depends on his condition.”

  “I meant in town, not the hospital.”

  She smiled. “So did I.” She patted him on the arm and eased past. “Thanks for the concern, Chief.”

  “Sure. Take care.”

  She went toward the doors but stopped halfway and watched Andrew leave the building. Her senses were heightened again, awareness of the vast amounts of power running this place making her tense, and in return increasing her body’s affinity. There was way too much electricity here, and she was way too stressed to go back into the main area of the ER. She could fry equipment that was keeping people alive.

  Griff would understand. She wrapped her arms around herself and followed signs to a different exit in case Andrew was still in the parking lot.

  What the hell did she do now? All her self-assurances that Griff was only a friend had just been blown to hell. Sure, he could wait, but for what? She wasn’t going to cheat on her husband. A lot of people wouldn’t blame her, given what he’d done and what his condition was now. Brian would never know that she was the “better” one, but she would. So she couldn’t give Griff even a hint of encouragement…and that might kill their friendship.

  Kill. She cringed at the word. What if the surgery didn’t work? What if Brian eventually succumbed, and she was free? There was still the matter of his partner. She’d come so far, she couldn’t give up now. But every step she took made her less worthy of Griffin. He would never want her after she exacted her revenge.

  He would if you did things the right way. Like how? she argued with herself. Turn Alpine Man over to the police? She’d never expected to gather enough information to be able to do that, but what if she could?

  Hope blossomed in the center of her despair, and it wouldn’t be crushed, even when she listed all the problems with that plan. She and Griff had already spent a year proving how little information there was to be gathered. If they did find enough, turning Brian’s partner over to the authorities would put a genuine target on her back. She didn’t know if there was one on her right now, but there had been no accidents since the crash, no communication or surveillance. She assumed he didn’t consider her a threat. Becoming a witness in a case against him, though, would definitely make her one. Griff had chosen a less-than-safe profession, but that was different from danger-by-association. Could she live with making him a target, too, by becoming involved with him?

  She glanced up and found herself at the edge of the hospital property. Traffic zoomed by on the main road a few feet away. To her left, patients were being wheeled or walking around a paved pathway through the trees, accompanied by orderlies or family members. She headed that way to absorb the peace, to calm herself so she could go back inside.

  There was one other problem she hadn’t worked over yet. Andrew. She knew from many morning discussions that his was the kind of brain that hated a mystery, however minor. He had to be wondering about her injured friend and the conversation he’d overheard. Maybe he’d take it at face value and assume she just wasn’t interested in Andrew and had used Brian to let him down easy. But why wouldn’t she tell him she was involved with someone else? That was just as easy. He’d think she’d lied to him somewhere along the line, and lies meant secrets, and if she was right and he was already interested in her secrets, he could start watching her even more closely.

  She squared her shoulders and took a deep breath as she approached the hospital entrance. There was no way to alleviate his interest without piquing it even more, except to shut down her quest and move on. She wasn’t going to do that, so the only thing left to say was bring it on.

  Griff was still in the curtained cubicle when she got inside, but now he lay on the gurney, covered with a yellow blanket and white sheet folded just so at his waist. He was staring at his phone and looked relieved when she walked in.

  “You’re not supposed to have that in here,” she chided.

  He avoided her grasp and tucked it next to his leg. “I know. It’s off. I was just debating breaking the rules to find out where you were.”

  She glanced at the clock. She’d been gone longer than she realized. “Sorry. I was wired and afraid I’d do some damage.” She winced. “More damage.”

  “Hey. I’m fine.” He grabbed her hand and smoothed his thumb over her knuckles. That was becoming a habit.

  She tugged away. “Then why are you in bed?”

  He rolled his eyes. “They want to keep me overnight for observation. They didn’t see any problems, but electricity can cause neurological and organ damage, and they want
to make sure there isn’t anything like that.”

  Every word was like a punch in the stomach. “I am so, so sorry. I never—God, I don’t even know what to say.”

  “It’s not your fault.”

  He sounded utterly sincere, but she shook her head. “I hurt you, and it may have been accidental, but it happened too easily. The harm I could cause if I can’t get better control…”

  “So you’ll get better control. I’ll help you.” He licked his dry lips and flinched. “They gave me some ointment.” He motioned to the rolling cart serving as a side table. “Can you put some on?”

  She picked up the tube and turned it over in her hands. She couldn’t refuse, but was in no hurry to get that close again, especially if she had residual static issues. She closed her eyes and tested her shields and seals. Everything seemed okay. When she touched the metal rail of the bed, nothing happened.

  “Okay.” She lowered the rail and sat on the side of the bed, unscrewing the cap and squeezing out a dollop of the cream. As gently as she could, she dabbed it against his swollen lips. They curved a little, and she risked a glance into his eyes. He was staring directly at her, and the intensity in his eyes burned deep. Now that she’d had a taste of him, she knew what to crave. She swallowed, the sound audible in the curtain cocoon.

  His hand slid under her hair and caressed the back of her neck, pressing into the tight muscles there.

  “Relax, Reese,” he whispered. “Everything is going to be okay.” His fingers dug deeper into her hair, rubbing against her scalp until her eyes closed and she breathed out a quiet moan.

  “Griff.” His name sounded like a sigh on her lips.

  She braced her hand on his chest and felt his heart slamming into his breastbone. Their foreheads came together, breath mingling, and it was the most intimate moment she had ever shared with someone.