The old hurts came bubbling back to the surface. And Lucy could’ve sworn that she’d put it all behind her. Evidently not.
“I cared about you, Lucy. It wasn’t just an operation.”
“Don’t.” Lucy held up a hand as if she could forestall the words.
“Don’t what?”
“Try to work me over. It’s not happening. I know who and what you are.” Lucy felt jittery, on edge. Right now, she wanted to hit something. Preferably Will’s stupid face. “Actually, no, I don’t. I just realized I don’t even know your name.”
“It’s Travis Reynolds.”
Travis. “When we met it was Will.”
“Yes, Will Stevenson was my cover at the time.”
Lucy shook her head. She’d been duped so easily, falling in love with a man she didn’t even know. She must’ve been insane. Even being in the same room with him again made Lucy feel like the wind had been knocked out of her.
“Please, can we have a conversation about this?”
Lucy hesitated. She wanted answers, but doubt she’d get any from him.
“Please?”
She blew out a breath. “If you want to talk, we’ll talk, but this is gonna be on my terms. Not yours.”
Travis spread his hands. “I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”
She snorted.
“What?”
“You’re such a liar. How will I even know if you’re telling me the truth?”
He held a hand out. “Check my vitals.”
“Excuse me?” She stared at his fingers, as though they were snakes.
“Monitor my pulse. If I’m lying, it will pick up. This is a low rent version of a polygraph, but it works.”
“I don’t want to touch you.” Except maybe to slap him. Yeah, hitting him might be fun.
He gulped, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down.
For a moment, Lucy wondered if she’d hurt his feelings, but it was impossible. She’d been a job to him, not a romantic prospect. The attraction had been one-sided, and Lucy had allowed herself to be duped.
“Fine.” She seized his wrist and pressed a fingertip to his pulse. It picked up at first, and then his heartbeat slowed.
He closed his eyes and slowed his breathing, deliberately bringing himself back down to baseline.
“Okay, let’s do this. I only want one-word answers. Yes or no, just like the box.” Lucy had lost track of how many times she’d been polygraphed by Langley. They’d always asked a series of “yes or no” questions. “I don’t want any of your crap this time.”
He’d been so convincing the last time. She hadn’t even questioned any of his lies. And since he used words like weapons, she had to limit his arsenal.
“Understood.”
“Is this somehow connected to the CIA?” she asked fearfully.
“No.”
“Are you trying to solve this case?”
“Yes.”
“Because someone hired you?”
He shook his head.
“Answer me. Body language doesn’t count.”
“No.”
I don’t get it.
The man she’d known had hidden motivations and agendas. None of his actions had been genuine, even when he’d done nice things for her. And she didn’t trust him, as far as she could throw him.
“Then why are you doing this? What’s your angle?”
Lucy wanted to ask him the really important questions. She needed to know why he’d turned her over to the CIA, but she was too afraid to ask. What if I can’t handle the answers?
He sighed. “Am I allowed to use more words?”
Lucy rolled her eyes. “If you must.”
“There’s no angle. I’m trying to do the right thing.”
“I don’t buy it.”
He licked his lips. “Look, I’ve done a lot of terrible things, in service of the greater good. I’d balance the scales, or redeem myself, whenever you want to call it. There are a lot of things I need to atone for.”
“Hmph. What do you know? We agree on something else.”
And then Lucy suddenly realized, she’d been holding onto his wrist. She dropped his hand, as though it had burned her.
“I just want to find out who killed your friend.”
“So, what? You’re like a vigilante crime solver now?”
It didn’t make any sense. The man she’d known was dedicated to the agency, willing to do anything for his country. She thought he’d serve his thirty years and then retire.
Why on earth had he left?
“In my spare time, like Batman.” He grinned, cocking a brow, inviting her in on the joke.
Lucy refused to give him the satisfaction.
And he frowned. “Have you called the police?”
“Not yet. I wanted to get some information first.”
“I’ll help you.”
“I don’t want your help,” she snapped. “I don’t want anything from you.”
Travis paused. “I know you don’t wanna hear this, but I’m gonna tell you anyhow. What I did to you was my biggest regret.”
Don’t even go there. His feelings for her had been a charade, plain and simple. Since she hadn’t shut him down this time, Travis continued on.
“I think about it all the time. I shouldn’t have sold you out.”
“Yeah, well, you did. I don’t want to hear this.” Lucy turned away from him.
“I know I can’t make up for what I did, but I thought I should tell you anyway.”
“Tell me what…? You have regrets? Well, you’re not alone. I have a lot of them too.”
“You do?” His brows cinched together.
“I never should have trusted you. And I wish to God I’d never met you.” Lucy backed away from him. Again.
He winced. “Fair enough. I’d still like to solve your friend's murder.”
It sounded petty but hurting him felt good. In fact, she wanted to do it again.
Lucy was about to tell Travis to shove it where the sun don’t shine, but he might be useful. Travis was the best hacker she’d ever seen, and he probably still had a lot of contacts stateside. He might be useful.
“Fine. You can help me, but I’m doing this for Christy. Not to ease your guilt. For the record, I hate your guts.”
Once again, he physically recoiled, as though her words had pierced his skin.
“Understood.”
Lucy didn’t want a partner. These days, she worked alone. And she certainly didn’t want to be close to Travis as she dealt with her friend’s death. But Christy deserved all the help she could get.
“Tell me what happened.” A muscle jerked in his jaw and he gestured to the bed.
“Fine.” And then Lucy spared him no details as she recounted everything she’d discovered. When it was over, they both fell silent as Travis absorbed the details.
“And what about this?” He undid a couple buttons on the corset and revealed a fresh wound, in the shape of an infinity symbol on her breast.
“What the hell…?” Lucy hadn’t even noticed it.
“So, you’ve never seen it before.”
She shook her head.
“I think we might have a serial killer in the area. I know of at least two other murders where this mark has shown up.”
“Do you think this Tom guy did it?”
“I’m not sure. We’ll check her SD card and follow up on the lead. For now, let’s call the cops. They need to process the scene.”
“Fine.”
An hour later, police descended on the apartment and meticulously removed every piece of evidence and gathered it up in neat plastic bags.
Thankfully, Storm handled most of the questions and directed their movements, while Lucy sat on the couch, deep in thought. Lucy felt disconnected from everything. She felt nothing, in fact.
Was it shock? Resignation, perhaps?
Although, seeing Christy zipped into a body bag was quietly horrifying. And final. This morning, they’
d been sitting on the couch drinking coffee and watching the news together.
How could she be gone? Just like that.
When they’d finished, Storm sat down beside her. Once again, the place was eerily quiet.
Lucy scooted away from him, so their shoulders didn’t brush.
“We’ll have to go to the morgue tomorrow night. I wanna compare the evidence.”
“The cops are gonna let us look at the other bodies?” Somehow, she didn’t think they’d be so cooperative.
“Doubtful. We’ll have to sneak in.”
Lucy didn’t want to break into a morgue, but she supposed they didn’t have much choice. The police wouldn’t release details from an ongoing case.
“Okay,” she said.
“And you’re coming back to HQ with me.”
“HQ?”
“It’s my security team’s headquarters. We’ve got lots of bedrooms, so you can have your pick. And the place is seriously fortified. We’ve got a kick-ass security system and a stocked armory.”
“No, I’m not going anywhere with you.” She shook her head. “And I’m not afraid to stay here myself.”
Although, HQ sounded awesome. She’d love to take a look at their armory. Weapons were a big deal with Lucy. She bought herself either a gun or knife on her birthday every year.
“And what if the killer comes back?”
She pulled her gun. “Then I’ll stick this in his face.”
Travis groaned. “You said Christy was a Marine, right?”
“Yeah.”
“And he still managed to get the jump on her. It’s not a stretch to say he’d overpower you, too.”
Lucy hated to admit it, but he had a point. Actually, tonight, she’d nearly lost twice when confronted with an attacker. Dammit. I need to train harder.
Although, the thought of staying with him made her queasy.
“No, I don’t—”
“Stop being so damn stubborn.” He squared his jaw and stood, towering over her. “Get your stuff.”
She thought about arguing but Lucy was too tired to fight.
Lucy removed two duffel bags from the closet, one for her personal things and the other for guns. Once she loaded up, she followed Travis to the door.
“Want some help carrying those?” he asked.
She glared.
“I’ll take that as a ‘no.’ You got everything?”
“Yeah, I travel light these days.” She adjusted the bags on her shoulders. They contained everything she owned in the world. “Having a home is a luxury I can’t afford.”
Chapter 3
Storm couldn’t believe his own eyes.
He’d thought he’d never see Lucy again, and yet she sat beside him. It was a second chance, an opportunity to make things right, and he planned on seizing it.
Storm had already texted the Black Star team and let them know Lucy was coming with them, and they had a pro bono case to handle. While pro bono was a legal term, he thought it applied to this situation.
“You’re staring at me.”
Storm knew she’d been living out of a suitcase, dragging dangerous felons into the cops. No wonder she was wary, on edge.
“No, I’m not.” Storm focused on the road once more.
She glared, and he felt about two inches tall. Storm had a lot to atone for, and this would be a delicate process.
“Okay, I am.” He couldn’t help himself.
Lucy almost blended into the shadows. She’d changed since they’d last spoken. Lucy had the look of a loner—defensive posture, dark hair cascading over her pretty face.
“Why?” Lucy asked, a hostile edge in her tone. She jammed the buttons on the car radio, and a mournful bluesy song played.
“You look different.”
“Yeah, well, I’m a wanted woman. I had to change my appearance.”
At one time, she’d had strawberry blonde hair, but this darker shade suited her. Lucy had also favored pretty clothes, and now she had a whole leather biker chick thing going on.
She was still lovely, but almost painful to behold in all her damaged beauty, rough around the edges and bristling with anger. The agency had hardened her, and she was even stronger than before.
It was intoxicating. Storm loved strong women, the kind who could defend themselves, but didn’t mind when a man stepped in to help.
She’d always been strong, dedicated to her cause, but she was formidable now, a force to be reckoned with, and he didn’t envy anyone standing in her way. She certainly wasn’t a damsel in distress, in need of rescuing.
No, Lucy is a worthy adversary. A force of nature.
He knew the two of them could find this serial killer, and make the bastard pay. Although, she was probably going to fight him every single step of the way.
Lucy met his stare evenly. “What? Spit it out.”
He shrugged. “Nothing.”
“I know you wanna ask me something.”
Storm hesitated. He didn’t want to pick at old wounds, but they’d never heal unless they talked it out. And sunlight is the best disinfectant.
“What did the agency have you doing?”
“Like you don’t know.” She lit a cigarette and blew out a ring of smoke, lip curled in a sneer, as though daring him to object.
“Since when do you smoke?” He rolled down a window.
Lucy shrugged. “It calms my nerves.”
“Those things are deadly, you know.”
Storm was a big believer in healthy living. He ate right, exercised, and he didn’t abuse his body with drugs, other than caffeine and alcohol. The thought of smoke settling into his lungs, freaked him out.
He coughed a little, shifting in his seat.
Lucy chuckled, but it held a bitter edge. “Like you give a damn about my wellbeing.”
“I do care about you.”
Lucy rolled her eyes as if she didn’t believe him, and he couldn’t blame her. From the second they’d met, he’d done nothing but lie to her. Storm had to show her how he’d changed through actions since he’d broken his word countless times with her.
“Tell me what the CIA had you working on.”
“What do you think I was doing?” She shrugged. “I was helping them hunt down terrorists on their black list.”
The agency had put together a list of high-value targets, to be captured and brought to black sites in the area for interrogation. It was a rogues’ gallery of terrible men. Tracking all of them down had taken years.
“They made you an agent?”
Storm remembered everything in her file. When they’d first approached her in college, the agency had urged her to apply, but she’d flatly refused. Instead, Lucy had enlisted in the Marines.
She shook her head. “I was an asset.”
“So, how did you get out?” The agency used informants until they got caught, died, or were no longer useful. Somehow, he doubted they’d allowed her to return to the States so easily.
Lucy squinted at him. “Did they send you to collect me? Has all of this been some elaborate charade?” She gripped the door handle as if preparing to jump out of the car. “Was the shock on your face just for show?”
“No! Like I said, I no longer work for them.”
Her nostrils flared. “I don’t believe you.”
Storm’s mind raced, trying to find a way to keep her in his car. Once she escaped, he’d never see her again. Lucy would make sure of it. And if she jumped out of the car at high speed, Lucy might hurt herself.
“If I were running an op, I would’ve locked your car door, pulled my weapon.”
She hesitated a moment and then nodded. Her posture relaxed once more, and she leaned back against the seat.
He blew out a relieved breath. “Why are you so twitchy?”
“Why all the questions?”
“I’m just curious.” And then he put it together. I’m an idiot. “They didn’t let you go. You’re hiding from the CIA, flying under the radar.” It explained why sh
e’d been staying with a friend, instead of renting an apartment. Couch surfing didn’t leave a paper trail behind.
“Yeah, my exit was unauthorized.”
Gotta love the euphuisms in the agency
“Yeah,” she said stiffly.
“How did you get stateside?”
“None of your fucking business.”
Slipping away from the agency was difficult, damn near impossible. The likelihood of them catching up to her was high.
“What about your job?” What measures had she taken to avoid employment records?
“I’m working as a bounty hunter, bouncing from place to place.” She glanced out the window. “Bail bondsman don’t ask a lot of questions as long as they get their fugitives back.”
“They pay you in cash?”
“Yeah, under the table so there’s no taxes or record of employment.” She took a deep pull on her cigarette. “See? Everyone’s happy.”
It didn’t sound like Lucy was “happy,” living alone, drifting from place to place. Storm had stolen her future, and inadvertently set all of this in motion.
This is all my fault.
And then she turned her back on him and completely ignored his existence.
Storm squared his shoulders. He never backed down from a challenge and he was willing to be patient.
For now.
***
“Are you ready?” Travis asked.
Lucy nodded coolly, but she was anything but. She had a bad feeling these next few days would try her patience.
The sun was slipping over the horizon, the promise of a brand-new day. But Lucy was stuck on the past, dredging through all of her painful memories.
And then she caught sight of the building in the distance.
Oh, my God. He actually lives in a barn.
Travis pulled up in front of a rustic red and white barn, which must’ve been converted into a house/business. It looked more like a charming inn than a security firm.
The structure sat atop a brick foundation on the edge of a hill, surrounded by a couple of lush acres. There were large windows on the front of the structure. It was encircled by a brick patio with a large fire pit.
Storm had “read her in” or gave her all the details on the ride over as if they were working an operation together. And we are. He’d even given her mini biographies of the people he worked with, as he pointed them out in a group picture on his phone.
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