Echoes

by Angela Verdenius

  Aaron nodded. Yes, he knew. His boss had never been Army but he’d worked with enough ex-military to know, and one of his brothers was Army. He’d have an understanding. That plus the work they’d both done outside the military. They’d both had times of completing their assignments with bloodied hands and a smoking hot weapon or bloodied blade.

  But Ella…

  “She never seemed to mind that I wasn’t as easy going. Was there when I woke up from a nightmare. She seemed to know when I needed quiet time and would even turn the phone off the ringer and steer people away from the house. She had no idea I knew, but I did, and I loved her understanding more than you could imagine.” Ryan traced a fingertip down the damp carton. “Loved her so much. So damned much…” His voice trailed off as he was caught in memories of her smile, the echoes of her laughter, their lovemaking, the way she accepted him. “Even my darker moods didn’t phase her, she just kept right on going. She accepted me.” Lifting his head, he gazed at the far wall. “I knew what I was becoming. I was efficient, I had the skills of a sniper, was one of the best in my Commando unit. Then came the day my parents were murdered. Murdered by a terrorist who knew I was in the Army. An insane bastard who got back at me by murdering my parents. Do you know how that feels? How bloody helpless when you get the news and you’re standing in the dust and shit and filth thousands of miles away, unable to see them? Fearing for the life of Ella, wondering if she’d been targeted. My unit leader got me home fast, Ella was under guard. Yeah, by the time I got home the brother of the same murdering bastard that killed my family had tried to take out Ella.” Ryan took another mouthful of coffee, the fury that always banked at the back of his mind simmering to the surface at the memory. “They took him down, but it was done. I stood there beside my parent’s graves, stood there in the bloody pouring rain with Ella beside me, hanging onto my arm, trying to support me, and all the time I knew it was because of me. My parents were dead because of the work I did, the fact they were so proud and told everyone and anyone their son was a Commando.”

  Silence fell in the room as the pang of loss scoured through him before he once again pushed it into the little locked box deep inside his heart. He stared at the far wall. From beyond the door came a murmur of voices, a door shutting, the sound of one of the work cars driving past to park behind the building. More voices, then everything settling except for the intermittent ringing of the phones. All became quiet once more as the work ran smoothly and efficiently.

  “I was still in the Commandos. My girl by my side, targeted because of who I was. My parents dead because of who I was. I know it wasn’t really my fault. I know what the psych said who debriefed me. I know what Ella said.” Pain roiled up only to be swallowed down. When he spoke, his voice was harsher, deeper. “I knew I couldn’t just come home and work a nine-to-five job. Guilt ate at me then, the need for revenge. The need to protect those left behind. I looked down at Ella, she smiled up at me, so much trust and love in her eyes, and I waited until we got home. I waited until the next day. Then I told her…” He swallowed, throat unexpectedly tight, his inner ears hurting as he again forced the lump down. “I told her we were over. She begged me, said she understood, but how could she? I didn’t want her to die, too, but I was also a different man. Grief does things to a man, killing does things. At the time the decision was right. Looking back…well, she was safe. She was no longer a target. I packed my bags and left.” His hand tightened on the carton, eased only when the coffee welled out of the spout to trickle over his hand. “I cut all communication, took another mission as soon as I was able, returned her mail. Any contact went through a lawyer. I couldn’t let go straight away, though. I had her watched, made sure she was okay, made sure she was completely in the clear before I lost track of her. I lived for the job. Every mission I went on became more deadly, every kill I made in the name of our freedom I freely claim. I was the best at what I did.” It was no boast, just a fact. “Eventually I left the Army, started doing the other things. Slipping in and out of grey areas, living the life.” He looked at Aaron. “I met you.”

  “You did,” Aaron agreed.

  “You ever wonder why I left that life when I did?”

  “We all have our reasons.”

  “I was becoming a killer. And not just for the job.”

  “Yes.”

  “You knew.”

  “Yes.”

  “So why did you hire me when I was on the edge?”

  “Because I saw you,” Aaron replied simply. “When a man realises how close he is, accepts what he’s becoming and has the strength to pull back, to seek a way out, that’s a man I want as a workmate, as a second-in-command, as a trusted friend.”

  Every word sank into Ryan, the sincerity of it warming him, and for the first time he smiled slightly. Just ever so slightly. “Like taking risks, don’t you?”

  “Some are worth taking.”

  “Is this a moment?” Ryan surprised himself by asking.

  Aaron actually cracked a grin. “Don’t ever tell Luke.”

  “Never.” Ryan’s slight smile vanished far more easily that it had appeared. Then again, he hadn’t outwardly smiled in a long time. “I never had contact again with Ella until I saw her in here talking to you. I had no idea she’d shifted here from Victoria. No idea at all.”

  Aaron nodded.

  Ryan drained the last of the Iced Coffee, crushed the carton in his fist. “She has good reason to hate me. But she’s changed, too. Tougher, harder. She went through hell and I wasn’t there for her.” He looked at Aaron. “If she’s in danger this time, I’m protecting her whether she likes it or not.”

  “Agreed.”

  “I won’t lie to you. For a second there I thought about getting those bastards shanked.”

  “I know.”

  “I won’t do it to her. For what shit it’ll bring to her doorstep.”

  “I know.”

  “You know too much.” Getting to his feet, Ryan walked to the bin to drop the empty carton inside. “I’ll talk to her, see what she knows.”

  “You may have to wait awhile.” Tossing his own carton into the bin, Aaron crossed to his desk and sat down. “Ella went to the airport yesterday. No one saw her get on the plane, but no one saw her leave the airport either. Her name was on no tickets, so she caught a plane, destination unknown. Her car is at home, she got a taxi. Her cat is at a boarding cattery but the woman didn’t know where she went, has only a few rough dates she’d be back. The contact number for emergencies is the vet she uses. They don’t know anything. Ella took a week’s leave and her employer has no idea where she went.”

  Damn it to hell. So close, so much information, her possibly being in danger and now she disappeared? “I thought the feds had her under surveillance?”

  “She’ll return.”

  “And if she doesn’t?”

  “We look for her. Meanwhile, we’re taking over the stakeout on her house, on the airport, and I’ll send her photo out to the teams across Australia.”

  “Feds won’t like that.”

  “Due to the sensitivity of it, only Edward’s team know we’re getting involved. They want our help, they’ll let us operate as we choose. They know their intel is secure.”

  “There’s a lead I need to follow.”

  “What do you know?”

  “The photo showing Ella entering the pub. The other day she’d been out all day and came home late. Her clothes smelled of cigarettes and alcohol, but none on her breath. I’m going to the pub tonight to see what I can pick up on her presence there.”

  The gossip wouldn’t start until tongues were loosened by alcohol late at night. If she’d been present, a word here or there, a listening ear, something was bound to slip.

  “Do that. Make sure you write a report. Her safety is our case until we know she’s in no danger.”

  Meanwhile, there was still work to be done in the office and in the field, different jobs and continuing jobs still requiring attention, sec
urity agents to organise and coordinate, a million and one things, among them setting stakeouts to watch for Ella Attwood.

  At the door he hesitated, hand grasping the door knob before he glanced over his shoulder to where Aaron was working the keyboard as though Ryan hadn’t just laid bare his heart to him, told him everything, told him more than he’d ever said to anyone else. Everything except that he still loved Ella. “Aaron?”

  “Yes?”

  “Thanks.”

  Aaron’s gaze remained on the computer screen as his hand worked the mouse. “It’s between us, goes no further. It won’t come up again unless you wish to talk.”

  “I won’t.”

  Without removing his attention from the computer screen, Aaron just smiled slightly.

  Exiting the room, Ryan left the door open.

  Today he’d start organising the stakeout, tonight he’d go to the pub in that dangerous district and see if he could discern what the hell his Ella was doing amongst such low, sometimes outright vicious company.

  And find out he would.

  I’m coming for you, Ella mine.

  Chapter 4

  Man, she was tired, but it was done - again. Yesterday she’d phoned another name through to the AFP along with a date, time and address of another deviant bastard before wiping any possible prints off the burner phone and burying it deep in the bin in the ladies loo at the shopping centre. By lunchtime today she’d been on the flight back to Perth.

  Walking through the airport, limping a little as her leg eased from the cramp of sitting still for so long, Ella collected her suitcase at the arrivals belt and walked outside to catch a taxi. In the back seat she closed her eyes, relaxing. Home again, such as it was. Boof waiting in the cattery, crankier than ever at being pulled from his routine. She’d pick him up in the morning and get him settled at home before doing grocery shopping. She had tomorrow night off and then started work again Monday night.

  Easing the threat of a cramp in her leg, she flexed her toes upwards, worked out the oncoming contraction before it could hit. As it eased away, she relaxed and glanced outside at the late afternoon. It should have been chilly but the air was simply cool, not a rain cloud in sight. Early autumn was always nice, past the heat but not yet into the cold. She wished it could be spring and autumn all the time, though she’d probably never appreciate it then. Mind you, summer always meant Australia burned, so that would be another bonus to no summer. And winter did her leg no favours.

  Ah well, couldn’t have everything.

  When the taxi drew up in her driveway, she paid the fare, retrieved her suitcase and walked up to the front door. A glance up at the camera in the corner of the roof before she went around to the back of the house to check that everything was still locked and secure. She was pretty sure if anyone had broken in Mrs Featherstone would have been hot on the line to the Police and Wells Security. However, seeing as she hadn’t brought her mobile with her due to a little paranoia, no one would have been able to contact her anyway.

  Everything was secure, so she entered, locked the kitchen door behind her and went to the bedroom. Emptying the suitcase, she tossed the dirty clothes into the wash basket to wash tomorrow, stashed the toiletries in the bathroom and her book on the bedside table, then phoned the local Chinese takeaway and ordered a meal. After being informed it would take at least an hour due to the busyness, Ella showered.

  Standing there, the water beating down on her head, washing the shampoo and soap down the plug hole, she sighed wearily. Another bastard going down. Another bastard who made girls suffer, who thought they were above the law, going down.

  It was a good feeling knowing she and her friend were helping the girls even if they didn’t realise it. Knowing that she and her friend were bringing the bastards down one-by-one, slowly but surely, knowing her act of revenge had also extended to include helping bring justice for others. But it was difficult for Rose, so very difficult.

  Rubbing her eyes, she leaned back against the wall, letting the water beat on her head as she relaxed, the scent of soap steaming into the air.

  Finally turning the water off, she dried, dressed in a thin nightie and equally thin dressing gown, blow-dried her hair and left it hanging around her shoulders. The house was too quiet without Boof stomping through it, peering at her from one eye. The one man in her life she could count on.

  Barefoot, she padded into the lounge room and turned the TV on low, flopping onto the old sofa as she watched the news and waited for the takeaway to arrive.

  She was idly flicking through the channels when a knock sounded. Taking the money from her purse, she opened the door. “That was fast. Man, I am starving. I -” Her eyes widened. Okay, she couldn’t lie, at first glance her heart leaped, but then she regained her senses and scowled. “What are you doing here?”

  Thumb hooked in pants pocket, other hand holding a slim file, long legs braced apart, Ryan stood in quiet confidence, that air of contained danger seeming to hover unseen but definite around him. “I’m here to talk to you.”

  “You talked. My, what a short conversation. ‘Bye.” When he merely placed his big boot in the doorway to prevent her from shutting it, she growled, “Move it or lose it.”

  In reply he grabbed the door, opened it with ridiculous ease regardless of her attempts to close it, and walked right on in.

  With his body crowding hers, it was either fall arse over tit backwards or reverse fast.

  Ella reversed. And nearly fell, her heel catching on the runner. However, before she could pitch too far back, Ryan’s arm whipped around her waist to yank her against his chest. The breath was knocked from her, her hands automatically reaching up to clutch onto his broad shoulders.

  Immediately she felt the strength, the bunch of muscles smoothly moving beneath his shirt as he steadied her, but rather than let her go immediately he simply kept walking, cradling her against him while he entered fully, stopping momentarily to shut the door behind him and flick the lock closed. Only then did he stop.

  He still had his arm around her.

  She was still plastered against his chest

  Oh geez, he smelled good. Sucking in a deep breath made that more than apparent. All clean male, faint soap. And he felt good, too. Muscular, strong, warm, his strength surrounding her. As he’d walked her backwards his thigh had slid between her own, and oh God, now they had stopped and his thigh was still between hers.

  Pressing lightly, but definitely, against her mound.

  Shockingly, heat flared inside her, the combined sensation of his scent, his presence, his body against her combining to spark that treacherous wick. The unexpectedness of it, the unwilling acknowledgement, the damn familiarity of his embrace as though their time apart had never happened, had her sucking in another breath, her breasts swelling against all that delicious, hard muscle.

  Shaken, she looked up into his brown eyes, saw something kindling deep inside them. Felt his arm tighten.

  They stood looking at each other in silence, something deep and warm connecting them. A light of sameness, of oneness, of them together with no space between them, the only thing separating their bodies the clothes they wore.

  How often had they pressed together, hugged…kissed.

  Unbidden, her gaze dropped to those firm lips that had kissed her with such relish, driven her insane, mastered her, laughed with her.

  From those lips had spilled words of love.

  From those same lips had spilled the words that broke her heart.

  That last memory was enough to make her regain her senses. With a sharp pull backward, she expected he’d release her.

  He didn’t, at least not straight away. There was a definite five seconds where he just continued to hold her, his eyes fastened on her, but then he removed his arm, his hand sliding deliciously along the back of her waist, a slight squeeze of her hip before his hand fell to his side.

  Backing away several feet, Ella crossed her arms beneath her breasts, almost unfolding them a
gain when his gaze flicked down to the swell of her breasts before returning to her face. His steady regard tracked her, the simmer of something within making them deepen, darken. That was familiar, too, the way his eyes used to darken when -

  No. No no no. This is not happening.

  Drawing up so straight and stiff it was a wonder her spine didn’t snap, she glared at him. “Forcing your way into my home now?”

  “We need to talk.” His eyes might have that dark shade that was unnervingly familiar, but his hard, handsome face was expressionless. There was certainly nothing in his deep tone to suggest he thought…well, anything even slightly affectionate.

  Fanciful thinking.

  Wait. What? No!

  Shoving away that that disturbing thought, she shook her head. “We have nothing to talk about.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong.”

  “I’m not interested in anything you have to say.”

  “You will be.” He walked past her down the small hallway into the lounge room.

  The man had a bloody nerve. Following him, she stood in the doorway watching as he placed the file onto the low coffee table before checking the window lock and dropping the curtain back into place. “What are you doing?”

  “Are all your windows locked?”

  “Look, Ryan, I don’t know what-”

  He looked at her.