Unhinged

by Natasha Knight

  His eyes are intense, like he’s trying to say a thousand things. And the way he tells me that last part, that he went to Denver for me, it feels strange, makes me feel…hope.

  “Where did you go?” I ask. I have no idea where he’s been.

  “I went to see someone who was in special ops while I was there.”

  “Who?”

  He takes a deep breath and stands, paces to the window before turning back to look at me. “The man who headed up the group searching for Malik. His name is James Jordan. James is the man who had initially questioned me, questioned everything that happened the night I shot my commanding officer. He left abruptly and I never got an answer as to why, where he’d gone. I guess I didn’t ask enough questions because I didn’t know him and the facts of the night of the shooting were so confused by then. What they told me, what I remembered…it was all mixed up. They had me on drugs and I just couldn’t get it right.”

  I shake my head. “Malik was under your nose the whole time.”

  Zach nods.

  “What happened?”

  “Well, after he got over the fact that I was alive, we talked. He lives in the States. Miami.”

  “You flew to Miami?”

  He nods. “I told him everything and it turns out they had figured out the truth at the end. That Malik was Commander Maliki Remi. That the traitor was someone he had trusted. Who had fooled him. When I’d thought there was a cover-up after I shot Malik—my commander back then—I was right. There was. And explaining it would have been problematic, not to mention a huge embarrassment to the military. To Jordan. That’s why they covered it up. Decorated Malik as a hero, didn’t investigate me for the shooting. Jordan left after that.”

  “Why did you come back to Beirut?”

  He looks confused. “What do you mean, why did I come back?”

  I stand. “You didn’t have to. It’s finished. You killed him. You got your revenge.”

  “I told you I’d be back, Eve.”

  “Why? What brought you back?”

  He steps to me, sighs, takes hold of my hands. “What do you think brought me back?”

  I study him, search his eyes.

  “Who do you think?” He rubs the back of his neck and smiles. “You’re the only honest, real thing in my life, Eve. You matter to me.”

  My heart races, my mouth goes dry.

  “And when you say you don’t know where to start, well, I’ve been living in limbo too these last years. I don’t belong anywhere, I have no ties to anything. My brothers are in Tuscany with their wives, Raphael with a family, Damon I’m sure isn’t too far behind. I don’t belong there. I guess I could go back, but I don’t fit there. Not on my own.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “The States?” He shrugs, continuing as if I haven’t spoken at all. “Nothing holds me there. But here, Beirut, it’s where my life, the parts that mattered most, were,” he pauses for a long time, his eyes never leaving mine. “Where the people that matter most are.”

  “You’re staying?” I feel a huge weight lifted, a relief of sorts. It’s the same feeling I’ve had a few times with him. That feeling of not being alone.

  “Did you hear me?”

  I nod slowly. I did hear him, am hearing him, but I’m slow to process his meaning because it’s too much. Too good. And I haven’t had good in too long.

  Zach’s hands travel up along my arms, circle them, pull me closer so we’re just inches apart. He searches my face, and there’s a look in his eyes, something strange, different, hopeful?

  “I want to stay here. I want to stay here with you. I love you, Eve. I love you. I have for a long time.”

  I laugh. It’s a strange sound, almost manic. I touch his face, take it into my hands and I feel my smile stretching wide. “I love you too, Zach.” How haven’t I said those words before? “You don’t know how happy I am that you came back.”

  Epilogue 1

  Zach

  One Year Later

  Music is blaring upstairs in the master bedroom when I walk into the house. Eve doesn’t hear me and I’ve told her a hundred times to make sure she locks the door if she’s upstairs and essentially deaf to the world. I shake my head, take off my jacket and toss it over the back of a chair, then unbutton and roll up one shirt sleeve, then the other as I make my way up to the second floor.

  At least it’s music I like. U2. But she listens to some crap too. The scent of paint permeates the house. She’s made it her mission to restore it to its former glory. It’s a hell of a job, but Armen comes by to help now and again, and it’s good for her. Between it and starting college, she keeps herself very busy.

  I open the bedroom door and she still doesn’t hear me. She’s got her back to me and is singing along as she rolls aqua paint over one wall. I must admit, it looks good. Better than I thought it would, but she’s got an eye for it. She’s finished the living room, restored the fresco, and is working her way through the house. I think she’s saving Rafi and Seth’s rooms for last. She still doesn’t go in there. We still haven’t even cleared the dust from those two rooms.

  She’s singing along and I have to smile. I lean against the far wall, watching her. I’ve got a good view of her ass from here. She’s wearing tiny white shorts and one of my T-shirts and she’s got paint smeared pretty much everywhere.

  After another minute, I pull the plug on the stereo and watch her jump so high, she practically hits her head on the ceiling.

  Eve whirls around, roller in hand, eyes wide, startled, at least for a minute before they narrow on me. “You gave me a heart attack!”

  “I told you to lock the front door when you’re up here.” I go to her, take the wrist holding the roller but keep a few inches between us. I like my suit. But I also like looking at her like this, no makeup, wild hair barely contained with a clip at the top of her head. She’s picked up some color in the last year and it looks good on her. She looks relaxed. Pretty. Happy. I lean down to kiss her. It’s meant to be a peck—I don’t want to ruin my suit—but with her, I can’t resist and the kiss turns into something deeper, something more, and when she moans against my mouth, I release her with a groan.

  “What?” she asks, all innocent eyes.

  “You make me crazy, that’s what. Put this down, you’re done.” I take the roller from her and set it down, then walk her into the bathroom, switch on the shower and pull the shirt over her head. “Why don’t you wear your own T-shirts to paint?”

  “I like mine,” she says with a wink.

  I give her a grin, push her shorts down and off, turn her around and smack her ass. “I like mine too. I prefer them without paint splatters, in fact.” My cell phone rings. “Get the rest of your things off,” I say, pulling the phone out of my pocket and checking the display. I have to take the call. “Get nice and clean so I can dirty you,” I say with a wink as I answer the call.

  The bathroom’s big and we haven’t redone it yet so the shower is a tiled area at one corner, no curtain, no door. There’s a pedestal sink with a mirror hanging above and in the other corner, a stack of tiles we’ll use to replace the old ones.

  She sticks her tongue out at me. I give her a shake of my head and listen to Jordan talk while watching her. It’s like a striptease when she slides her bra off one arm at a time, cupping her breasts for the slow reveal. My cock’s getting hard. She turns around slowly, her ass to me. Her white cotton panties are soaked and see through, and she makes a point of slowly dragging them down her thighs, bending deep, displaying everything.

  “Zach, did you hear me?” It’s Jordan.

  Eve straightens, giggling as she picks up the shampoo. I narrow my eyes, a promise of punishment to come.

  She only grins wider.

  “I heard you, Jordan.” We’re not friends, he and I, but we are partners—for now. When he left the military, he had enough contacts in the Middle East to start his own “security” operation. We started to work together half a year ago, when, after o
ur initial meeting, he contacted me about cleaning up Malik’s organization. It was much bigger than I’d even realized, but I liked the work. I liked making right what Malik had made wrong and considering the fact I have no problem punishing those who need to be punished, Jordan and I came to an agreement. I needed information, and he needed my help. As for the US military, the Malik cover-up included me so I’m still dead. Which works out fine for me. Michael Beckham is my legal name

  “I already took care of it. Your doorbell should be ringing any second with a delivery.” The USB drive with the files he wants is on its way. A list of men and women who would prefer to remain anonymous. “Did you get me the information I need?”

  When I said Jordan and I aren’t friends, I mean I know the man I’m dealing with. See, there is no black or white. No good or evil. Not even me. My hands are in no way clean and sometimes, when I touch Eve with those hands, I wonder if I shouldn’t leave her be. Walk away. But I can’t. And I guess I still think life owes me, so I don’t.

  “I know where they were killed. Where they’re buried.”

  I study Eve as I listen, my face betraying nothing. She doesn’t know what I’m doing. Why I agreed to work with Jordan. I didn’t want to get her hopes up, and I guess I was right.

  “You know who did it?” I ask, feeling a disappointment I didn’t expect to feel. I wanted to give her different news. Although, she’s accepted their deaths. I can leave it alone.

  “Yes.”

  I nod to myself. “I have to go.”

  “I’ll send you the information.”

  “Good. We’re done, then.”

  “I can always use you, Zach.”

  “We’re done.”

  I disconnect the call, tuck the phone into my pocket and fold my arms across my chest.

  Eve’s got her eyes closed and is washing shampoo out of her hair. Suds cover her naked, flawless body and I can’t drag my eyes away.

  “So, have you always made it a habit to move into someone’s home without having an actual conversation about it?” she asks, turning her face into the stream.

  I think about this. “Hmm. I guess I do.” I unbutton my shirt, strip it off and toss it aside, then do the same with my pants and boxer briefs.

  She glances at me and with a grin, I reach to switch off the water.

  “Hey! I’m not done.”

  “Yes, you are.” I step onto the wet tiles, push her up against the wall. “You were giving me quite the show, shaking your ass like that.” I grip her jaw, kiss her mouth, take one wet breast into my hand and rub the nipple with my thumb before pinching a little. Just until she moans.

  “I’m cold,” she says, wrapping her arms around my neck, pressing her wet body against mine.

  “I’ll warm you up.” I kiss her harder, hoist her up and carry her out of the bathroom, setting her down near the bed. It’s covered in protective cloth which I strip away. She looks up at me, desire darkening her eyes. “Do it again,” I say, turning her so she’s facing away from me. “Bend over, grab your ankles and show me your ass.”

  “Zach—”

  I grip her hair with one hand, drawing her head back, making her look at me when I slap her hip. “You like it, Eve. You like it dirty. You want to show me every inch of you. Now be a good girl and bend over.”

  I release her and take a seat on the bed, legs wide, my dick thick in my hand. Eve turns around, her ass to me, and spreads her legs wide. Slowly she bends over, drawing out every second, driving me insane.

  “Good girl,” I say when she’s in position. My voice is a growl as I take her hips and draw her backward, her ass at eye level. All I have to do to taste her is lean forward, just a little, but I take my time too. She wants me, I can see it on her glistening lips, smell the musky scent of arousal. My hands on her ass cheeks, I open her wider, take in every shaved inch of her before licking her pink pussy, tasting her. I dip my head down to flick my tongue over her clit, sliding it back up along her folds, up to her tiny asshole, tickling it, listening to her moan as I circle it before sliding back down to her pussy, burying my face in her.

  “Fuck, Zach.”

  Her knees give out a moment later, but I grip her, draw her backward onto my lap, sit her on my cock while taking her clit between two fingers.

  “Who were you talking to?” she asks, breahtless.

  I slide her up and down my length. “You have the worst timing.” I lift her off, set her on her hands and knees before me, settle myself between her knees and spread her ass cheeks. “The fucking worst.” My cock is slippery with her arousal and her pussy stretches to take me. I close my thumb over her asshole and she moans when I press.

  “I don’t like you working for that man,” she pants.

  “Shut up,” I say, pulling out, flipping her over onto her back and pushing her legs up alongside her torso.

  “He’s not good,” she continues, but the way her eyes are rolling back in her head makes me smile.

  “You want to come, Eve?” I take her clit between two fingers.

  She nods. “God, yes.”

  “Then shut the fuck up.” I lean down, smash my mouth over hers. It’s the only way to shut her up. Drawing my hips back, I thrust in hard.

  She gasps into my mouth and I do it again and her tight little cunt is squeezing me and I’m so fucking close.

  “Come, habibi.”

  She’s such a good girl. She comes on demand, and I don’t hold back. I fuck her hard and when her walls pulse around me, with a groan I bury myself deep inside her and she milks my cock and all I can do is watch her face go soft, her eyes dreamlike, and wonder what she sees in me when she watches me come.

  We’re lying on the floor naked, each of us silently watching the other.

  “What did he want?” she asks.

  “If you knew who I was talking to, why did you ask?”

  She sits up. I follow. “I don’t trust Jordan. I don’t like him.”

  “Don’t worry, I don’t trust him either. We’re getting what we need from each other, that’s all.”

  “What do you need from him?” She knows what I do. I’ve never kept it a secret. But I never give her details either. I’ve killed men before—in the military and afterward. But I only kill those who deserve to die.

  I get to my feet, draw her up with me. “Your niece will be here soon. We should get cleaned up.”

  She’s annoyed, but comes along with me. We shower together, and soon we’re sitting out in the back garden, she with a glass of wine, me with a beer. I know we need to talk about what Jordan told me, but it can wait. Her brother will be here soon with Hope and there’s something else I need to do first.

  Epilogue 2

  Eve

  I mean it when I say I don’t trust James Jordan. I’ve met him exactly once, and I already know he’s a bad guy. And as much as I trust Zach, there’s something he’s keeping from me.

  “Let’s take a walk,” Zach says.

  The sun is setting. He likes to go to the edge of the property to watch it. I usually go with him. It’s such a beautiful sight.

  Zach’s quieter than usual when we walk, and I know it has to do with that call, but I also know he needs to tell me when he’s ready.

  When we get to our spot, we sit against the tree stump, our backs to it, both of us facing the sunset, which has just begun. He takes my hand in his.

  “I know where Seth and Rafi are buried,” he says.

  I turn to him. He’s still looking straight ahead. I know they’re dead. I’ve made peace with it. So why does this news make me feel like I’m going to start crying all over again? Because I don’t want that. I don’t want to cry anymore.

  Zach faces me. “Jordan’s been working on finding them. Finding out…the truth,” he pauses, looks down at our hands, watches his thumb turn a circle over the back of mine before meeting my gaze again. “I don’t want to do this to you. I don’t want to cause you any more pain.”

  I smile, but it’s sad and my eyes a
re wet with tears that somehow, I don’t shed. “Can we bring them home?” I ask.

  He nods. “I’ll take care of it.”

  I wipe my eyes, but it’s not the waterfall I dread. There are tears, but they’re gone.

  “You okay?” he asks.

  I nod. “I am. I know they’re gone. I’ve known for a long time.”

  “I’m sorry, Eve.”

  “That was the call?”

  “Yes. Our business is finished now.”

  “Good.” We slip into silence for a long time, watch the sun set, watch darkness fall like a blanket across the sky. “I feel okay, you know. I do.”

  “I know.”

  I look at him, and he’s smiling a little, but his eyes are intent on me like maybe he doesn’t quite believe me. “What?”

  He reaches into his pocket and digs something out. I know when he finds it because his expression changes. “This.” He draws the ring out of his pocket and I look at it, surprised, shocked, maybe? In awe. The moon shines on it, making the diamond sparkle. “I picked it up a few weeks ago.”

  “Are you…is that…”

  “I can’t imagine being away from you ever again. I think, actually, that I loved you from the first minute I saw you sitting in that interrogation room. When the others would look at you, it made me fucking crazy. Hell, when men look at you now—”

  I put my hand on his. “Shh. Don’t spoil it.”

  He’s nervous. I’ve never seen him like this before. He nods. “I love you and I want you to marry me, Eve. I want to be with you always. I want babies with you. I want…no, I am home with you. You’re it for me. You’re everything.”

  I drag my eyes from the ring up to his. This is unreal. A dream.

  “I love you, Zach. And I can’t imagine ever being without you. I mean, you live here already, so…”

  “Shh.” He slides the ring on my finger and takes my face in his hands. “Don’t spoil it.”

  I giggle, looking at my hand, then at him, and I know I’m grinning like a fool.