by Kris Norris
Brogan stared up at the ceiling, watching the moonlight play across the wooden beams. Paige slept beside him, her chest rising and falling rhythmically. He tried to ignore the way her body grazed his with each gentle breath or how she murmured softly in her sleep. They reminded him too much of the life he’d left behind…the one he desperately wanted back.
He sighed, tracing his finger along his skin until he skimmed over his tattoo. He didn’t need to see it to be able to follow the inscription, writing his brother’s name out with the tip of his finger. He’d done it so many times it’d become second nature.
“What the hell have I just done?”
His voice sounded loud in the room, though it was little more than a whisper. He glanced down at Paige. She looked peaceful and he wondered what his life would be like if he’d never walked out that night? If he’d chosen her over his promise?
Uncertainty niggled at him as he continued to trace the name, not sure how he was going to find the strength to leave her—again. She kept him grounded. Dared him to dream for something bigger, better. But if he didn’t show up tonight, Tate would walk, and his ghosts would never be free.
“Great move, Brogan. Another stellar decision.”
He sighed and closed his eyes.
Chapter Four
“You fucking bastard!”
“Now, Paige, baby, don’t—”
“Don’t you Paige baby me,” she snapped.
She kicked at him when he bent down to retrieve a sock.
“You promised to tell me everything, but as usual, you’re breaking it.” Angry tears slipped down her cheek, but she didn’t even try to wipe them away. “I should have known better than to trust you.”
Anger flared and Brogan clenched his jaw in an effort to stay calm. “I’ve told you everything I can. And I’ve never broken a promise to you.”
“You didn’t tell me shit. And you have broken a promise.”
Brogan grabbed his jacket and punched his arms through the sleeves, hoping the action would still his need to toss Paige over his lap and hold true to his threat to paddle her ass. Though just the thought had his cock straining against the fly of his jeans. He cursed, hating the hold she had over him. He didn’t want to leave things this way, but she’d left him no choice. He tried a soothing breath, only to groan when her sweet essence drifted to him, tempting him to strip off his clothes and spend the foreseeable future with her tied to his bed. He met her heated glare, knowing there was nothing he could say to win her over. He’d lost her, and this time, he knew there’d be no coming back. She’d never speak to him again once he walked out that door.
“If I tell you any more I’ll be putting your life at risk. Hell, I shouldn’t even be here. I’m dead, remember!”
Her chin quivered for a moment before he saw her pull herself back. She’d gotten better at distancing herself since he’d left, and he couldn’t help but wonder if that was part of his legacy to her.
“Then why did you bother? I would have been out of the house before anyone saw me. Why take the chance?”
“Because that little stunt you pulled on the motorcycle put you at the top of Tate’s “most wanted” list.” He stomped to the end of the bed.
Shit, she looked beautiful with the sheet hugging her breasts and her nipples poking at the thin fabric. He’d clipped one of the handcuffs around the heater coil beside the bed and left the other around her arm, hoping to disappear before she’d woken up. But as usual, she was too damn stubborn to sleep through it. He knew the cuffs wouldn’t hold her forever, but by the time she’d gotten free and walked back to town, the deal would be over, and Tate would be off the streets, once and for fucking all.
Or I’ll be dead…
Paige sneered at him and tilted her head in that way women did that clearly said she didn’t know what he was talking about. “I was wearing a tinted helmet and Tate was in the back. There’s no way he knew it was me.”
“Right. He had no idea up until the point where he ran your plate and got all the information he needed.” Brogan speared a hand threw his hair, wishing he’d left it long. “Ever since you made it your vocation to hunt the man down, he’s been keeping tabs on you. But you’re a bit too well known to kill without good reason. Turns out your little drive-by was enough to push him over the edge. Those men at the house were there to kill you, baby, not ask you to take their picture.” Brogan sighed and leaned against the frame. “Why did you show up last night?”
Some of the anger left her eyes, replaced quickly by pain. “I needed to know.”
“Know what?”
“If it really was you, or just a ghost?”
Uncertainty surfaced and Brogan felt the first inklings of fear. “But you thought I was dead. I don’t understand.”
She shrugged, staring down at the bed as she spoke. “I saw you at the pier and I needed to know if it was really you.”
“The pier!” He moved before he’d realized and came back to his senses with Paige trapped between his chest and the headboard. “What the hell were you doing at the pier? How did you know Tate was going to be there?”
Fear flickered in her eyes, washing a wave of guilt over him.
“I got a tip. I was there gathering evidence to give to the Feds. I wanted to put Tate behind bars…for killing you.”
Sobs wrenched her chest and it was all he could do to hold her gaze.
“You have photographs? Of the meeting last night?”
Shit, he should have guessed, but he was too busy listening to his dick to think about why she’d pulled up alongside of Tate or where she’d gotten the image of him on her computer screen. Now all he could do was bow his head and try to breathe. This changed everything. If Tate found out she’d photographed the meeting, he’d never stop hunting her. And Brogan knew the man would put it all together.
Determination set his jaw. He couldn’t back out now, not with Paige’s life on the line. Tate might have let it drop after the deal, but not once he found out she could finger him as the dealer.
Brogan stood up and paced over to the table, opening her case. He removed the camera and flicked through the images, feeling his chest tighten more with each one. He stopped when his face filled the small screen. “Fuck.”
He glanced over at Paige. Be damned if she wasn’t spitting fire with her eyes, completely oblivious to the fact she’d just signed her own death warrant, not to mention putting six months of hard work in jeopardy. He cursed again and grabbed his phone.
“It’s Brogan.” He ignored the loud hiss on the other end. “Look, I know, but we’ve got a problem.” He turned and looked straight at her. “Paige.” He took a deep breath, knowing the silence on the other end of the line was a bad sign. “The old forestry cabin by tower three. I suggest you hurry.”
He hung up, shoved the phone in his pocket and tossed Paige the key to the handcuffs. She snagged it off the sheets, holding it to her chest as she stared at him, her eyes brimmed in red. He ignored the lump making it hard to breathe and pointed at her clothes still strewn across the floor.
“Get dressed, baby, then plant your ass in that chair. Don’t’ even think of trying to ditch me,” he warned, turning away. He paused, then looked back at her. “What promise did I break?”
Paige grabbed her clothes and held them tight to her chest as she headed for the bathroom. She stopped as she bridged the doorway. “You promised to be back by midnight.”
Brogan felt the lump expand as she stepped inside and slammed the door.
* * * *
Paige sat in the chair, drumming her fingers across the wood. Brogan had taken to pacing the floor, peeking out the window every time he went by. She’d asked him a dozen times who he’d talked to on the phone, but he’d answered with only a, “You’ll see,” before pacing again.
The sound of stones crunching along the road filtered through the room, followed by the steady hum of an engine. Brogan palmed his gun and gave her a stern look, silently warning her to stay put
. She nodded, knowing now wasn’t the time for any smart-ass remarks. Fear and anticipation played along her nerves, and she wasn’t sure whether to stand up or duck under the table. She heard a car roll to a stop as a cloud of dust blew past the window. A door slammed shut and footsteps fell on the porch. There was a double tap before Brogan opened the door and waved the man in, checking behind him before shutting it tight and turning around.
“Hello, Paige. Didn’t expect to see you here, but then I never did think Brogan…”
Paige smiled as his words faded into a grunt as her throw hit home and the book bounced off his chest and thudded to the floor. She saw Brogan wince out of the corner of her eye, but he didn’t make any attempt to step between them. Anger bubbled in her veins as she stared at the man who’d been lying to her for six months.
“How could you?” She grabbed another book. “How could you come to my home and tell me Brogan was dead when he was still working for the Bureau?”
Special Agent Douglas Brown sighed and looked as if he was bracing for another attack. But the emotional roller coaster she’d been on for the past twelve hours had taken its toll, and she sank into the chair, letting the book fall to the floor.
“I never wanted to hurt you, Paige. But we needed the world to think Brogan was dead.” He shook his head and leaned against a chair. “It was the hardest thing I’d ever done.”
“Save the sob stories, Doug. You played your part perfectly.”
“If it’s any consolation, Brogan didn’t want to lie to you. He wanted me to tell you the truth and ask you to go work in some third-world country for awhile, but I knew I’d never be able to keep the two of you apart.”
“You could have asked,” she said.
“Asked,” he repeated. “I think the fact I’m standing here talking to you right now is enough proof you wouldn’t have stayed away.”
He held up his hand when she glared at him.
“I know, neither of you planned this, but be damned if it didn’t happen regardless.” Doug nodded at Brogan. “So what’s the big glitch…besides the fact Paige knows you’re alive?”
Brogan stepped forward and handed him her camera. “You might want to take a look at these.”
Doug frowned as he grabbed the device and began flipping through the screens. Paige could see his lips tightening, slowly pulling into a thin line as he scanned the images. By the time he lowered the camera, his face was flushed red and his mouth had descended into a frown.
“Bloody hell,” Doug cursed and put the camera down, looking over at her. “Do you know what these are?”
“Photographs of Tate dealing weapons,” she taunted.
“These are your death sentence, honey.” He turned on Brogan. “Why the hell didn’t you call me last night once you knew she had these?”
“I didn’t realize she’d taken pictures until this morning,” Brogan confessed.
“It took you twelve hours to put together the drive-by and the fact Tate wanted her dead to figure out she’d taken pictures of the deal? Jesus Christ, man, you’re supposed to be thinking, not screwing.”
Brogan growled and took a calculated step forward. Paige had seen that expression before. He’d always been overprotective of her and it looked as if that hadn’t changed.
Doug raised his hands and nodded. “Okay, okay, so your adrenaline was pumping and you got preoccupied reacquainting yourself with Paige. I get it. But that doesn’t help us out much. Tate’s bound to have put it together by now, and as long as he thinks she’s got evidence over him, he’ll never stop hunting her.”
“Which is why the bastard needs to put down,” said Brogan.
“The drop still on for tonight?” asked Doug.
Brogan nodded.
“Then it looks like you just got yourself a new partner.”
Brogan’s eyes went wide and he flashed her a look before stalking over to Doug and grabbing him by the shirt. “No way. There’s no fucking way Paige is going anywhere near Tate, tonight or any other night.” He huffed out a breath, ruffling Doug’s collar. “I didn’t give her up just to see her get killed. You are going to put her into protective custody until this is over.”
Doug merely smiled and removed Brogan’s hands from his shirt. “Just what do you think will happen when you show up tonight, after being gone for twenty-four hours with no plausible explanation?” He smoothed the fabric. “Partner that with the fact Paige escaped his men and I guarantee you Tate will be suspicious.” He shook his head. “No, we need to make this look as if you caught her and she wants in.” He turned to her. “You think you’re up for that?”
Paige felt the blood drain from her face at the pained look Brogan gave her, but she knew Doug was right.
She’d put Brogan at risk and she needed to make things right. “I can do that.”
Brogan hissed and stepped forward. “No fucking way—”
“Easy, buddy,” Doug interrupted. “I’ll get in touch with our other contact—the buyer’s guard—make sure he knows Paige’s safety is paramount. We’ll keep her safe.”
“I’ll keep her safe,” said Brogan. “Just make sure your men show up on time.”
“My hands were tied, Brogan. When Tate changed the meeting time at the last moment, we had not other recourse but to stay distant.”
Brogan merely grunted and grabbed his jacket, looking at her over his shoulder. “Let’s go. I need to grab a few things before the meeting.”
“Fine, but before we leave, I need to know something.”
Brogan’s eyes narrowed. “Know what?”
“The real reason bringing Tate down is so damn important you killed yourself to do it.”
Brogan sighed and looked over at Doug.
“You never told her about Christopher, did you?” asked Doug.
“She didn’t need to know,” he challenged.
“Brogan, Paige is the only reason you didn’t go over the deep end after you lost your brother. She pulled you back from the brink. Hell, if she hadn’t walked into your life…”
Brogan grunted and turned away, but not before Paige saw the pain in his eyes. She stopped and reran everything Brogan had ever told her about Christopher in her mind, slowly putting the pieces together.
She moved over to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “You told me Christopher died in the line of duty—during a gang fight.”
“He did,” said Brogan, his voice hollow.
“But you never told me how those kids got those weapons.” She paused, watching his shoulders hunch. “Tate.”
“The bastard doesn’t care who suffers because of him. I promised myself I’d see that he got what he deserved, no matter what.” Brogan gave her a hint of a smile. “I never wanted to hurt you.”
Paige nodded and cupped his chin, raising his gaze to hers. “Then let’s go keep your promise.”
* * * *
“Johnson, where the hell have you been?” shouted Tate as Brogan parked the motorcycle beside the car. “I’ve been calling you all fucking day! The buyer will be here any moment.”
Tate hissed when Brogan shoved Paige forward.
“I found something you might be interested in,” Brogan replied, trying to ignore the way Paige’s hands trembled at her side.
Tate’s face lit into a smile before he frowned. “I thought I’d made it clear what I wanted you to do with her.”
“You did, but fortunately I decided to think for myself,” he said. “I might’ve just saved you from a long prison sentence.”
Tate’s expression faltered. “What the hell are you talking about?”
Brogan handed him the camera. “Have a look.”
Tate cursed and grabbed the thing, scanning the photos in turn before looking up at Brogan. “And you didn’t kill her because…”
“Because she’s as smart as she is pretty,” he said. “She’s copied these photos to a number of different addresses and rigged it to her phone. The damn thing’s been going off every half hour. If she doesn
’t put in a certain code, the images get emailed to a number of agencies, all of which would love to have this kind of physical evidence.” He huffed. “It’s been a different code each time…too many to trace.”
Tate hissed out his breath and looked as if he was going to strike Paige before Brogan pulled her back to his side.
“You might want to play nice,” he suggested to Tate. “At least until you find out what her intentions are.”
Tate scowled. “Fine. What do you want?”
Paige shrugged as if they were chatting about the weather and Brogan just about died. Fuck if she wasn’t playing her part perfectly.
“I think it’s obvious, Mr. Tate,” she said. “I want in.”
Tate laughed and Brogan resisted pummeling the guy with his fist.
“You want in?” Tate teased. “I thought you were too pure to dirty your hands with the likes of me?”
“You thought exactly what I wanted you to think,” she said. “What everyone thinks. That doesn’t make it real, however.” She took a deep breath, pulling out her phone when it beeped. She looked up at Tate, holding it out so he could see the screen. “Shall I punch in the code or are you still considering your options?”
Tate chuckled. “I think you’ve made your position clear. Besides,” he added, stepping forward so he could run his fingers through her hair. “I can see a number of benefits from having you on my payroll.”
Paige smiled and tapped her phone, but not before Brogan saw her body twitch from the contact. The beeping stopped, just as the buyer’s car pulled up. Tate nodded at Brogan and he pulled Paige behind him, taking his place at Tate’s side.
The man approached and pointed at Paige. “Who the hell is she?”
Tate smiled. “Just some woman that’s going to occupy my attention for a while. Is there a problem?”
