Above All Else: A Bad Boy Military Romance (Easy Team Book 2)

by Gemma Hart

  “They wanted me to get some rest first,” I explained, unconsciously touching my injured arm. The bandages were still wrapped around my arm but it was all hidden under my sweater.

  I saw his jaw tighten when I touched my arm.

  Shaking his head, as if to clear it, he asked, “How truthful do you plan to be during your debriefing?”

  I looked up confused. “I don’t understand,” I said. “What do you mean?”

  Marco took a step towards me. With his dark expression, it took everything in me not to take a matching step back.

  “I mean,” he bit out, “do you intend to include any information on Jamie in your debriefing?”

  Surprise lit my face but understanding soon followed. Of course. Jamie’s existence was probably quite unknown, even for the FBI. That worked in not only Jamie’s favor but also Marco’s. Clearly, he was still worried over his brother’s safety.

  I shook my head. “No,” I said firmly. “He has no bearing on this case. It was purely about Roy.”

  I saw Marco’s expression relax just slightly at my words but the mistrust was still there. But there wasn't much more he could do and we both knew that. Giving me a quick nod, he moved to brush past me.

  I couldn’t bear to have him go. Not after how much my heart had been crying out for him. I felt somehow lonelier now after having seen the detachment in his eyes than before.

  “Wait, Marco, please,” I begged, stopping him at the door.

  Marco paused, his back towards me. I was sure he would ignore me and just walk out but instead, he turned his head slightly, giving me the smallest slice of his attention.

  “I…” What could I really say? How could I explain myself? “Marco, there’s no forgiving me, I know. I can only imagine what you must think of me.” I paused. “Actually, I probably couldn’t and wouldn’t want to. But I just want you to know that when I went into the mission, I was only trying to do what I thought was right.”

  Marco stood frozen by the door, not moving or nodding in any way to show acknowledgement.

  “I wanted to do right,” I said, my voice cracking a little. It felt futile to keep talking but I couldn’t help myself. “Roy Desmond has hurt so many people and could hurt so many more. I wanted to help stop him. And that had been my only goal. I had never intended to hurt you.” I swallowed, feeling my throat tighten with emotion.

  “And I won’t ask you to forgive me,” I said, speaking a little louder to cover up my breaking voice. I knew these would be the last words I would ever speak to him and it broke my heart that they wouldn’t be ‘I love you.’ But I persevered. “I know that wouldn’t be reasonable. But I just want you to know that every moment I had with you was completely and truly real. Short of my real occupation, everything I shared with you was real.”

  It was important he knew that.

  I felt my eyes stinging with tears but I held them back by sheer force of will.

  Marco stood by the door with only his shadowed profile visible. He paused for a long moment after I spoke. I hoped he would say something, anything. I just wanted to hear him speak.

  Finally, his hand turned the doorknob.

  “Goodbye, Miss Margot,” he said quietly.

  There, I had heard him speak. And my heart had broken at his words.

  Chapter Twenty Two

  Marco

  I let the hot water run over me. I pushed my face against the showerhead, letting the needling spray bounce against my face, absolving me of whatever fucked up feelings I was having.

  I knew I shouldn’t have gone over to Halle’s. There was no reason to. Not really. I told myself it was to keep Jamie safe, to make sure his identity was not compromised. But really, I knew deep inside, it had been to see Halle.

  I had tried my best to prepare myself to see her.

  After the busted Juarez deal, I could hardly contain myself. Every conflicting emotion had flooded me. As I watched Halle be referred to as an ‘Agent’ while be escorted away, I had wanted to punch the nearest tree while simultaneously grabbing her and shaking the shit out of her. I wanted to hear the words from her own lips—“I lied.”

  But then I had seen the ooze of blood that had been flowing down her arm. From her stable condition and the location, I was able to safely guess it was a flesh wound but even still, my chest tightened and my knuckles cracked as I felt the burning desire to pummel whoever had shot her. I had wanted to wrap her in my arms, holding her to me for safe keeping while also wanting to scream at her.

  It had been a last minute change. Instead of calling my private plane and heading towards Europe, I had headed towards Halle and Roy. I knew she was in danger. It was instinctive. And the idea of her being hurt made my bones crawl.

  But I had never expected to find what I had that night. The Juarez Family all under arrest. Halle, shot and injured, being escorted away by the FBI as one of their own.

  And Roy Desmond, long gone from the scene of the crime.

  As far as Roy knew, I was never there. By the time I arrived, he and his men were gone. How had they known to ditch the deal so quickly? If a shoot out had happened like that on any other deal, Roy would’ve made sure to stay till his men had shot and killed everyone to teach them a lesson. A fatal lesson.

  But this time, Roy had had amazing good luck and foresight in leaving the scene quickly and immediately, saving him from the reaching grasp of the law.

  And now Roy was more paranoid than ever. He had beefed up his personal security detail. He threatened his remaining account managers into performing properly, unless they’d want to feel the power of his wrath. I was wondering when he’d ask where Halle had gone but he never did. I guess he assumed she had been killed in the shoot out and he certainly wouldn’t waste time moaning about someone he considered an employee at best, and a servant at worst.

  Who knew when my chance to escape would come again? With the mishap of the deal and Roy’s new found paranoia, it would be nearly impossible. He was holding everyone close to the cuff, including me.

  In fact, it almost seemed as if he was angry with me about the deal’s failure. As if I had somehow played a part in its debacle. I hadn’t even known the date had been changed. Until I had heard about Halle being forced along to the deal, I had no idea the Juarez Family were already in town.

  It was all a mess.

  And so when I tracked down Halle, I had come with a conflicted heart. I had thought that a few minutes to collect myself would be enough but as soon as she had walked through the door, I felt my chest crack and ache again.

  She wore dark jeans and a loose white sweater. It was the most casual I had seen her. Normally at the compound, she was always wearing plain business attire in muted colors as if to draw the most minimal amount of attention. As if that were possible. Not with that face.

  But seeing her dressed so casually, so warmly, she looked better than good. Her long blonde hair tumbled down her back in a loose ponytail and her cheeks were flushed from the slight chill in the outside air. Almost immediately, I wanted to pull her into my arms. I wanted to smell her scent, taste her lips. Regardless of how angry I felt, I had fallen asleep to her image for the last three nights.

  It was hard to see her as a conniving agent who had come into the compound with only a mission to accomplish. She had had such a natural and almost clumsy grace that spoke of someone real and untrained. No professional field agent would’ve gotten drunk at the monthly Desmond dinner, nearly getting herself raped.

  She had clearly been drinking because she hadn’t been a professional. She was an accountant. She had no field training or experience. And so she had felt extremely nervous when she found herself surrounded by possibly the most ruthless and powerful people in the country.

  “They wanted me to get some rest first,” she had said, touching her arm.

  A fiery coal of anger and protectiveness burned within me when I saw her gently touch her injured arm. Who the fuck would send an untrained agent like her into such dangerous t
erritory? Halle was lucky to have only gotten shot. She could’ve easily been killed. Or if Roy had caught wind of who she really was, she could’ve been tortured to death.

  It was like sending a kitten loose into the maws of a hungry jungle. My jaw tightened just at the thought of all the danger Halle had been blindly facing.

  But I had to remind myself—I had lost my chance at freedom because of her. She had lied to me. And because of that, I would probably never be able to leave Roy or the Desmond Mafia.

  If she had felt what I had felt when we had been together, she should’ve told me. She should’ve been honest with me. We could’ve worked it out together.

  But did you tell her about Europe? a voice needled me patiently.

  I sighed, the hot water steaming up around me.

  Did you tell her your plans for escaping? What would you have done if the moment had come and Halle had been by your side? Would you have just left her? Or blurted everything out right then without giving her a chance to think or make a decision?

  I slammed a fist against the wall of the shower. I couldn’t deny the logic in the voice but at the same time, I also couldn’t suppress the frustration and anger I felt. Both occupied the same amount of space in my heart and both were hard to ignore.

  “And I won’t ask you to forgive me. I know that wouldn’t be reasonable. But I just want you to know that every moment I had with you was completely and truly real. Short of my real occupation, everything I shared with you was real.”

  Had it been though? Had it been all real?

  When she had walked in on me in the gym and I had finally tasted her truly for the first time, had it been real? When I had pushed my cock deep into her warmth and made her gasp in surprised pleasure, had that all been real?

  My cock twitched, remembering how gorgeous she had looked with her back arched and breasts pressed forward. Her lips had parted slightly and I could see that hazy glow of pleasure shining through her eyes.

  You know it was.

  I believed Halle when she had said she wasn’t a trained field operative. I had met many FBI agents over the years who had tried their best to worm themselves into the Family. You could spot them a mile away. They had a scent to them—a scent of covered agenda and desperation.

  But Halle had had none of that.

  She had been so guilelessly natural it had been easy to believe she was an accountant who had perhaps been hard up for some money.

  I snorted. It made more sense now why a girl like her would work in a place like this.

  And as an untrained agent, it was easy to see that she had let a lot of her own emotions and feelings rise to the surface. She had had no artifice.

  Except the artifice of her trying to wiggle her way into the Family and bring down everything around us, I argued.

  Yes, but…so what?

  Didn’t I want the same? Did I like knowing what Roy Desmond was capable of doing? I, of all people, knew the extent of his cruelty and greed. Why else would I have worked so hard to try and get away?

  “I wanted to do right. Roy Desmond has hurt so many people and could hurt so many more. I wanted to help stop him. And that had been my only goal. I had never intended to hurt you.”

  I could hear the tears in her voice as she spoke. I knew without looking that those shining aqua eyes would be shimmering with unshed tears.

  The entire bathroom was now covered in a thick hazy steam. I knew I should get out of the shower and yet the hot water and the sprinkling noise of the showerhead helped ease my mind a little and I was reluctant to leave.

  If you could give yourself the grace in admitting that you had not intended to fall in love with her, couldn’t you extend the same understanding to her as well?

  We had both met while under the cover of a very convoluted web. I had been in the midst of my elaborate plans while she had been under the secret mission of the FBI. Neither of us would’ve thought falling in love would be high on our agenda.

  Besides, who are you to judge?

  How bloodsoaked were my own hands? Admittedly, the men that had died by me were not good men. Some had even been as bad as Roy. But nonetheless, I had done the killing. I had done the beatings. My body was lashed and scarred with the history of it.

  Neither of us were pure.

  I shook my head, spraying water droplets.

  But so what? So what if we came to a mutual understanding and could forgive each other the sins of the past?

  Now it was too dangerous for us to take any actions. If Roy thought Halle dead, it was all the better for her. There would be hell to pay if he found out she was alive and connected to the FBI.

  And to keep her hidden, I couldn’t visit her or see her. Roy would definitely find out about her if I did that. And then I would be completely culpable for whatever happened to her.

  No, to keep her safe, I would have to let her go.

  No matter what I felt, no matter what I forgave or what I understood, there was no way I would put Halle back into such danger again. If I really loved her, and I was sure I did, then I would keep her safe.

  Even if that meant tearing my own heart out to do so.

  And just like that, like Jamie, like anything else worth loving, I had to keep myself near the dirt and the devil to keep those precious things safe.

  I sighed as I turned off the water.

  “So be it.”

  Chapter Twenty Three

  Halle

  I made a little grumble in frustration as I turned another wrong corner. Pivoting on my heel, I stomped back down the way I had come again, checking the numbered plates by the door.

  Why would they want to do the meeting in their offices?

  Agent Hadfield and Truman had finally contacted me about debriefing. They asked me come into the office but instead of meeting them in the conference room, which is where we had typically met before, they had asked me to come to Agent Truman’s personal office.

  The fourteenth floor of the building was where all the field agent offices were. They were quite anticlimactic considering the highly trained operatives the floor housed.

  It was just row after row of normal offices, complete with the small black numbered plates by the doors and the folding plastic blinds in the windows.

  But that made it all the more difficult to find the correct office. They all looked alike and all the numbers ran together.

  I needed to find 1452 but it seemed as if that particular door had disappeared. I had seen 1451 on my first incorrect trip around the floor. And I had seen 1453 on my third incorrect trip around the floor. But I had yet to find this elusive 1452.

  Thank goodness I had arrived early. I had anticipated a little trouble finding the right place and so had arrived early with plenty of time to find my way. But I hadn’t anticipated this much trouble. I was literally lapping around the whole fourteenth floor.

  Not wanting to waste time and possibly run late, I decided to slow down and carefully search each door as I passed. I walked at a snail’s pace to make sure each and every door was not 1452 before I passed it.

  I checked my phone and luckily I was still twelve minutes early. Hopefully, I could find 1452 within the next twelve minutes.

  That seemed like plenty of time and yet this was what felt like my fifteenth time around the floor.

  I walked slowly and paused when I found 1450. Okay, close but no cigar yet, I thought, wondering how finding an office could be harder than infiltrating a notorious crime family.

  1451.

  I was about to turn in the direction I had before when I suddenly heard a muffled voice.

  I turned around, wondering where it was coming from.

  Behind me, was a wall with a small forgotten potted ficus. I had thought it was a dead end to the hall but as I peered in, I realized that in fact, the ficus was covering a half wall. I walked closer and noticed that the mysterious 1452 was hidden behind the half wall.

  Who in the hell could find such a—

  I was about
to head right in when I heard a voice that sounded like Agent Truman’s chuckle.

  “That man is just a whack job,” Agent Truman said, letting out another chuckle.

  I heard a muffled grunt of amusement that sounded like Agent Hadfield. “Well, it worked, didn’t it? You gotta give the old coot some credit.”

  “After much unnecessary elaboration, sure,” Agent Truman conceded. “Except for his son. I guess old Roy don’t know his boy like he thought.” There was another burst of smug laughter.

  I felt a sudden chill run down my spine. The way the agents were talking, there was a sinister familiarity that made my heart want to curdle. What were they talking about? What ‘worked’? They couldn’t possibly be talking about the Juarez deal, could they? Because that was the opposite of anything that ‘worked.’