Slater's Revenge

by Claudia Shelton

  Inside him, a voice shouted this was the perfect moment to make her hate him. Hate him till her dying day. Here was that option he’d considered last night. Here. Now. Neat and clean.

  A word. A look. A sarcastic, dirt-filled statement. Whatever it took for her to literally kick him out of the penthouse—out of her life—and lock the door behind him. There’d be no risk on his part. No revealing his shame. That would be the easy option. The one that set him free without risking anything on his part.

  Was he that weak? That gutless? That much of a coward? No, he wasn’t. He’d for damn sure never say or do anything like that to her. Never. He’d never do that to someone he loved. His insides rocketed with an unfiltered emotion that shot straight to his soul.

  He. Loved. Macki. Now…forever.

  He raked his hands through his hair, letting the tension ease as his emotions rushed through him. God, he loved this woman, and that’s why he had to push her away. Nice and easy, he had to push her away. “You know exactly what you’re doing to me. I know what I’m doing by refusing. It’s time to let us go.”

  He scooped her clothes from the floor, placing them gently in her hands. “Don’t make this any worse than it already is.”

  Slipping the top over her head, she slid her arms through the sleeves and tugged the material downward. “Worse for who?”

  Walking to the bedroom doorway, he paused and glanced back over his shoulder. “Trust me, it’s better for both of us this way.”

  …

  Macki stepped back into her shorts, struggling to find the strength to face his words. Over. Everything was over for them. She’d made a fool of herself, and he’d called her on it.

  Slowly, realization ground its way into her head. There was no chance for them to resurrect what they’d once had. Josh and Macki were no longer there. For whatever reason, they were both gone. Over. Done. They had both died that day at the door as he’d said goodbye ten years ago. No more Macki. No more Josh. No more afternoon in the park.

  He had his pride or creed or whatever the hell he lived by, and she, evidently, was the line he couldn’t cross. A part of that made her only love him more, knowing he’d turned into such an honorable person. One who stood by their ethics.

  She backhand-brushed her cheek then the bottom of her chin. When had the tears started to roll down her face? She didn’t want to cry. She never cried. Yet, she’d cried more in the past couple of days than in the past ten years. The tears kept overflowing her lower eyelids, and she couldn’t stop them.

  Facing the pain, she let it continue to roll out of her body.

  “Will you at least give me the respect to tell me what the hell your gut-wrenching problem is before you leave? I think I deserve that much.” She lifted her head to face him. “Don’t you?”

  “Yes, you deserve that.” He raked his fingers through his hair, clearly uncomfortable with her request.

  “Promise me.” She’d trust he wouldn’t break his word. From what she’d seen so far, his word and his job were everything to him. Nothing and no one ranked higher.

  His hand white-knuckle gripped the pictures still clutched in his hand. “I promise. Before I leave, I’ll explain everything.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Josh strode into the guest bedroom and slammed into the chair in front of the computer system. Still shaking from the scene with Macki, he punched in the code for Drake. This had to stop. Had to stop before he couldn’t stop himself from giving in to her.

  Drake’s image popped onto the screen. “What’s going on?”

  “A lot.” Josh felt himself pulsing with adrenaline. “A whole hell of a lot.”

  “Such as?”

  “You need to send another agent. Or at least send her driver Edward back. Let him keep a close-up watch. I’ll watch from a distance.”

  His boss leaned into the camera screen on his end. “Has CT made a move? Have things gotten bad this fast?”

  “No. Yes. I mean you need to send another agent to protect her.” Josh would rather be any place in the world right now than sitting here trying to explain he couldn’t keep his act together.

  “I’m not sure what you’re asking for, Agent Slater. And for the record, we still haven’t heard from Edward or his wife Darla since they ghosted.” Drake’s eyes squinted with the words. “What’s going on? Are you calling for backup?”

  “No, sir.”

  “You’re saying you can’t handle this assignment, Agent Slater? Is that it?”

  Josh didn’t know what he was calling for. The woman had him so fucking bamboozled, he couldn’t read his own mind long enough to give an update to his boss.

  Drake cleared his throat in that listen-to-me manner he controlled his world with. “Now, I don’t know what just happened on that end between you and my niece.” He raised his hand. “I don’t want to know. That’s a problem for the two of you. But the protector I know you to be needs to step back and take a deep breath. Then tell me what you called for.”

  He didn’t wait to be told twice. The “take a deep breath” meant You’re overthinking the situation. Overreacting. Get back to the basics. He pushed the hold button on the keyboard and watched the screen go green as he walked away. Sometimes the old man made sense.

  Josh stared out the window. Shook the vision of a half-nude Macki from his thoughts then took time to splash cold water on his face. He could do this. Sitting back down in front of the screen, he pushed the resume button and nodded at Drake’s image as it popped into view.

  “Which is it, Agent Slater?”

  “Neither, sir. I was just calling in with the evening report.” Josh rolled the pen between his palms. “Where are we on deeper background checks for Macki’s list of visitors?”

  They talked about each person once again, but nothing new had risen to the top. All in all, they were still at square one.

  “I handed the listening crystal off to a courier early this morning. Have you gotten it yet?” Josh hoped it would give a clue on where it had been made.

  “Systems is working on it, but they’ve only had a couple hours.” Drake jotted a note. “Tell me about the barbeque. Everything go okay?”

  “Lieutenant Grey gave Macki a photo of her parents with the crew and mechanics in front of the plane. Seemed strange to me. Upset her.”

  “What upset me?” She moved into the room, pulling up the vacant desk chair to look into the screen at her uncle. A loose top, jeans, and almost-dry hair completed her attire as she settled in.

  “Josh was just telling me about the picture.”

  “Which one? The one that upset me”—she looked at Josh—“or the one that set you off?”

  Josh raised his palm to stop her from going further with her confrontational questions. “I told him about the picture of you and your parents.”

  “Figures.”

  Drake cleared his throat. “What does that mean?”

  She propped her elbows on the desk, folding her hands in front of her as she leaned toward the screen. “Means Grey and Cummings gave me a photo of Blake and me kissing.” She jerked a finger in Josh’s direction. “Seemed to upset him greatly.”

  “I didn’t say a word,” Josh replied.

  “Didn’t have to. I could see it in your attitude.”

  Josh blanked his expression, because this was going nowhere fast. They needed to be talking about their next step. For all they knew, CT was setting their people in place even as they spoke.

  In fact, this situation was taking way too long to come to a head. Usually CT put out the word and moved fast. Why were they dragging their feet on this one? Were they trying to put more leverage in place? If so, who? Drake would have told him if there was anyone else they could use against him.

  The rising voices of Drake and Macki brought Josh back to the moment.

  “I’d like a different protector,” she said nonchalantly. “Josh has done a good job, but I feel some new eyes on the matter might make a difference.”

  The s
creen went green.

  She tapped the edge of the keyboard. “What’s going on?”

  “He’s taking a break.” Josh grinned at her not because he was happy, but because he could imagine the choice words his boss was shouting into thin air at the moment.

  “Why?”

  “Because you’ve pushed his last nerve for the day, and he’s doing his damnedest not to lose his temper. Got it?”

  “Got it.” She fidgeted in her seat. “He used to get up and walk out of the room when I, like you said, pushed his last nerve.”

  A minute later, Drake’s expressionless image reappeared on the screen. “I believe we discussed this the first night, but I’ll reiterate the short version. Josh has the most experience with Coercion Ten in these types of threat situations. You’re smart enough to know how to follow his lead when it comes to staying safe. That’s all I’m concerned about—both of you being alive when this is all done. Understand?”

  They both nodded but didn’t look at each other, and neither picked up the portable screens to see everyone on the conversation.

  “There will be no switch-outs.” Drake leaned back to a straight-as-nails position in his chair. “Whatever problem you two have, work it out. Because it damn well better not interfere with this assignment.”

  A distant ring of her phone caught everyone’s attention, and she ran to answer the call.

  “I mean it, Josh. I don’t care if you two knock heads or beds, but I sure as hell don’t want to know about it.” Drake poked the screen with his finger. “You’re a grown man who can do whatever the hell he wants. And as you may have noticed, my niece has a mind of her own. I thought by now you’d have figured out she’s not that sweet little Macki anymore.”

  “That’s the problem, sir. She’s damn sure not the Macki I remember from high school.” He eased back in his chair and blew out a long sigh, rubbing his thumb across his lower lip. “Not even close.”

  With a loud groan, Drake leaned back, too. “Aw, hell!”

  The second hand on the desk clock ticked off a few seconds.

  “Now I’m concerned about you two becoming a leverage situation.” Drake drew out his words. “Watch you don’t—”

  “I can do my job, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

  “And when it’s over?”

  “Macki deserves better.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “I leave.”

  Drake slammed his hand on the desk in front of him, the sound vibrating through the speaker. “How many times do I have to tell you you’re not responsible for what your father did?”

  Josh answered his boss’s slammed hand with one of his own. “Not until I’ve brought the bastards to their knees. And I can’t help thinking I’m responsible.” He glanced at the open doorway and heard Macki’s muffled voice in the distance. “I may not carry the same last name, but the man’s blood runs through me. Just because my parents never said ‘I do’ in front of a judge doesn’t mean I can’t feel like I should right his wrong.”

  The flick on the screen meant Drake had pulled a screen panel loose and was pacing around his office. Josh followed suit. Evidently, the boss had more to say.

  “I’m gonna try this from a different direction,” Drake mumbled.

  “Say what you’ve got to say and get it over with. She’ll be back soon.”

  “What if, in the distant future, someone rules that OPAQUE overstepped its bounds on some case? That you were the agent in charge and you screwed up.” Drake had stopped pacing and was seated back at his desk because his image had popped up on the main screen. Straight as nails again.

  Josh mirrored his boss by sitting in the chair. A lot of what he had to do walked a fine line between right and wrong, but everything he did was for the right cause. The outcome justified the means. Of course, some people might not see it that way. “I’ll face that when it happens.”

  “Oh, and did I mention that by then you have a son?”

  “I’m not doing this.” Josh knew the drill. The old man would try to break him. That had never happened. Never would.

  “Is he responsible for what you did?”

  “Not playing.”

  “In fact, you have two sons, maybe three. Boys with the same blue eyes as you.” Drake’s tone lowered in timbre. “They walk the same as you. Smile the same. Which one of them is responsible for what you’ve done?” Drake slammed his hand on the desk again. “Pick one. If you’re so damn right, then pick one to sacrifice his future for what you did.”

  “You need to take your fuckin’ head games somewhere else.” Josh felt the pounding of his heart, the rush of blood in his ears. He would not go down that path. “I swear I’ll disconnect and walk right out that door if you don’t shut up.”

  Drake hadn’t moved. His stone-faced expression didn’t crack. “You won’t shut me down because a piece of that hardheaded brain of yours just shouted that you might be wrong. You’ve held on to the hate so long, you’ve lost touch with the reason you hate.”

  “I said get out of my head.” He felt like his skull would explode. Explode any second if the pain didn’t finish him first. Pain for a son he hadn’t yet fathered.

  “Answer the damn question. Is he responsible? The boy who waits for you by the door every night. The boy who wants to play catch every weekend. Your son whose blood is yours. Is he responsible?”

  Josh tried to clear his mind to his focus points. Nothing helped. Instead, he kept seeing a boy’s face…a boy’s smiling face. “Stop it, Drake. Enough.”

  Drake charged forward at the screen on his end. “Then answer the question, Agent Slater. Is your son responsible for what you did on that last mission in South America? Is he responsible for you scaling that compound wall and taking out—”

  “No! Hell no! And I’ll kill anybody who says he is.” Josh grabbed one of the screen sections and flung it into the picture hanging over the bed. The glass shattered in hundreds of tiny round orbs. He dug his hands into the pellets and flung them against the wall. “No.”

  His breaths came in choking gasps, trying to kill him as he struggled with the words on the tip of his tongue. Struggled and lost. “My son…would not be responsible…for what I did that day.”

  He braced his hands on the desk in front of the monitor, slowed his breathing, his heart rate. Slowly, he lowered himself into the chair.

  Drake leaned back in his chair, and the corner of his mouth lifted an iota. “Then don’t you think it’s time you stop being the martyr for something your dad did? If your son wouldn’t be responsible, why are you?”

  From out of nowhere, an image of a smiling little boy crossed his thoughts. One holding on to his hand. His hand? He looked closer—that was his dad’s hand, his dad’s scar from getting his hand sliced by an engine blade. The smell of bratwurst and popcorn popped into his mind, and he felt himself smile. They’d gone to the ballgame that day. His dad had saved enough money to buy two bleacher seats. And they’d gone to the game. Just his dad and him.

  Dropping his head in his hands on the desk, he sucked in a deep breath and closed his eyes. When had life gotten this complicated? Suddenly nothing seemed black and white anymore. Good and bad mingled. How could that be? He shoved the thought aside and sat back up. Looked his boss in the eye.

  “Will you at least think about what I’ve said?” Drake asked.

  Chewing the side of his mouth, Josh glanced around the room. Stared at the broken glass before he turned back to the screen and shot his boss a quick nod. Paused and swallowed deep. Then nodded in earnest. He’d think about it.

  “Josh!” Macki screamed from down the hallway.

  “Everything’s okay in here. A picture fell, that’s all.” He raked his fingers through his hair and blanked his face. He was in control once again. Even though his insides felt like he’d been ripped to shreds right in front of his own eyes.

  Macki barged into the room with panic written on her face. Barely glancing at the mess littering the
bed and floor, she raced to stand next to Josh in front of the screen. “That was Detective Cummings on the phone. We need to get to D Street. Fast. A woman’s been roughed up, but she won’t go to the hospital. Says she can’t leave till she relays a message to…”

  He watched as the tan on her face lightened a shade.

  She sucked in a breath. “…OPAQUE Agent Joshua Slater.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Josh drove out of Macki’s private garage, steering in behind the police car waiting to give them an escort down to D Street. On the one hand, he liked the idea of not having to stop at red lights or follow the speed limit, but on the other, he didn’t much care for someone knowing his exact route. Least of all the police.

  Closing in on the crime scene, he motioned to an officer pointing to a vacant space for his truck. “I can’t believe you and Drake talked me into letting you come along, Macki.”

  “You both knew if I didn’t, I’d just get in the car and follow,” she said.

  Drake had also probably realized they needed all hands on deck, including her. This wasn’t a usual OPAQUE case. This time, the person being protected had training in defense. Besides being stubborn as hell.

  She tapped her fingers against each other in a nervous, tented gesture, her eyes darting from side to side as she sucked in a breath. “Besides, Drake understands I have a baseline of what should or shouldn’t be happening on D Street. Something you need to make a good assessment.”

  “Maybe so, but that’s all I want you to do. Tell me even the slightest detail that makes you take a second look. No running around saying hello to people.” He jumped from his truck and spotted Detective Cummings standing next to an ambulance. “Definitely no interaction with Roxy.”

  Arms crossed tight across his chest, the detective looked like he was none too happy about either one of them being there. Should be interesting, since Josh didn’t plan to be shoved around by anybody this time.

  Macki joined him at the front of the truck, her breathing jerky. Ever since the phone call had come, she’d been jumpy. Afraid? Maybe. More likely the fact a woman had been beaten up had triggered memories of the night she’d faced the same.