“And, of course, someone filled you in about all of this top-secret stuff.” She said it as a statement instead of a question.
Pax answered anyway. “Someone at the Pentagon who is more than a little concerned about Kingston’s internal security tipped us off. Yes.”
Before Pax could launch into a detailed explanation, Connor talked right over him. “Point is, with this program from Kingston the U.S. can monitor not only the movements of foreign military assets but listen in as if they’re sitting in the middle of a Russian sub. It’s in the testing and development stage, but it’s—”
Joel snapped his fingers without lifting his head. “A game changer.”
“It will be if it turns out to be effective. The government handed Kingston a lot of R&D money to get this program off the ground. There is a big push to move it into beta testing. Word is the initial trials are positive,” Pax said.
She nibbled on her bottom lip as wariness fell over her features. “If Sean got his hands on that program, or parts of it, and knew how it worked...then what?”
Joel finally looked up. “He could make a lot of money. Like, buy-an-island-and-hide-out type of money.”
But Pax knew that wasn’t the real issue or the one that should matter to Kelsey. He cut right to it. “Or he could end up dead.”
Chapter Eleven
Sean walked down the long driveway and crept up to the gate. Trees lined the property, covering all but the smallest peak of the three-story stone house sitting back off the road. He’d grown up in the Virginia mansion, complete with gardeners and maids and a full-time staff. They’d belonged to country clubs, even a ski resort. His life once revolved around parties and private schools and a second home on the beach in Delaware.
That was before. Before the allegations. Before his parents’ violent outbursts and vicious fights. Before the police came and the money dried up. Before his mother threatened to walk out but died before she could get the house packed.
Before Kelsey refused to come back and help.
Things were supposed to be different now. Sean made it through the boredom of school and earned some recognition through the math department. He’d turned his love of video games into a real-life application by combining it with his natural ability at calculations.
He had a job and a life, or he did until a few weeks ago when it all turned upside down. He’d been tasked with a top-secret project and subjected to random drug tests and other unnecessary security measures.
The lie detector was the worse. Strapped to a chair and a machine and forced to answer moronic questions. It was all a waste of his time. He wanted to work, not get bogged down in stupid crap.
One day he signed in, fine-tuned the program, fixed the mistake and left without leaving a data footprint. Just as he was supposed to do. He’d been promised easy and unseen. Sneak the files out and act as if nothing happened.
He did everything he was told and didn’t tip off any alarms. But then men started following him and his studio apartment got turned upside down. The few possessions he owned and had taken with him that weren’t frozen in his father’s mess had been broken and destroyed.
He’d been on the run ever since. With a limited cash flow and few places to go, he’d ended up here. Amazing that no matter how hard he tried to break free, he ended up back here.
Bryce Kingston knew the truth and now someone wanted Sean dead, so even this house might not protect him.
He threw his bag over the top of the fence as he’d done hundreds of times as a kid. Back then beating the security system had been a game. Now it was a necessity. Using the metal rails of the gate, he grabbed on to the decorative knobs and wedged his sneakers in between the bars.
He’d spent most of the past few years sitting at a computer, but he wasn’t out of shape. With a grunt and a concentrated yank, he climbed. Swinging his leg over the top, he skipped the rest of the vault and jumped down.
The night’s hot air blew around him as he fell, but he misjudged the distance and dropped longer than expected. He hit the soft grass with a sickening thud. His feet hit and one ankle overturned.
One minute he stood and the next his leg buckled, dragging him down. He dropped as he called out. Rolling around on the ground, holding his leg and swearing into the dark night, he tried to work out the kink.
He froze when lights clicked on over his head. A whirring sound echoed around him. One he couldn’t place. He’d just struggled to a sitting position when footsteps thudded by his head and something hard nailed him in the back. His face smashed into the turf and grass filled his mouth. Shifting and struggling, he pushed up and turned to the side, breathing in a huge gulp of air despite the weight pounding against him.
He braced to flip over when he heard a distinct click. He’d never heard the exact sound before, but combined with the hard metal pushing against the back of his skull it wasn’t a mystery. After all that running he’d been found.
“Do not move.”
At the sound of the stern voice, Sean let out a loud exhale. His shoulders slumped in relief. “Hello, Dad.”
Fingers dug into Sean’s arm and then turned him over. His father loomed above, hands on his hips and wearing a golf shirt and khakis, the daily uniform he’d adopted after prison.
Gone were the expensive suits and shiny watches. He insisted those days were behind him, along with his ability to earn a “decent” living. Resting on the money still in his bank while his attorneys went unpaid qualified as roughing it to Dad.
Sanford Moore, Sandy to friends, as well as to those who believed he’d defrauded them and the journalists on the talk show circuit who enjoyed bringing him on their programs even now, stared down with fury turning his face purple. “What are you doing sneaking onto my property?”
Sean wasn’t sure when he’d become a visitor in his family home. “I needed somewhere to hide.”
“You come through the front door or you don’t bother coming home at all. And you call first. You’re a grown-up now. Act like it.”
Since the family’s finances no longer allowed for paid guards and a top-of-the-line security system, Sean thought going in quietly was the answer. Just in case someone followed him here. “I didn’t want to put you in danger.”
“Why do you think I have the gun?”
“I have no idea. When did you get that?” Sean couldn’t believe anyone would sell him one.
“I still have people dropping by the gate, whining about losing money and blaming me.”
Sean had heard the complaint every day for nine years and didn’t have the time to argue about it now. “I know, Dad.”
“Then you should know better than to be skulking around in the dark.” His father glanced around. “Where’s your car? I didn’t see it drive up.”
That answered the question of whether the security cameras still worked. Sean could imagine his father spending hours a day sitting over them, watching the screens. His paranoia had bloomed into a restless living thing, and with his professional reputation in tatters, all he had was the money from Sean’s mother’s estate—the part her relatives couldn’t figure out how to take—plus the money for the book he’d just sold. The same money every fraud victim wanted to grab away before his father could spend it.
“I don’t have my car. I hitched.” Three drivers and a drop-off a mile away, but Sean got there.
The clenched jaw suggested his father was not impressed. “Have you lost your mind?”
Sean was starting to wonder. “Someone’s following me.”
“Because of me.” His father reached down and jerked Sean to his feet. The gun stayed within sight but was no longer aimed.
Sean suspected that could change at any moment. His father’s temper was well-known, and Sean tried very hard not to tweak it. “No, because of my work.”
&n
bsp; The older man’s eyes narrowed right before he turned and faced the house. He took three steps before looking over his shoulder and motioning Sean to join him. “What did you do?”
Despite the throbbing ankle, Sean grabbed his bag and rushed to keep up. “Nothing.”
“Come on, Sean.”
He brushed the overgrown branches out of the way, making a path through a group of trees that were once manicured to perfection weekly by a small staff. “I have some work documents and now I’m in some trouble.”
His father eyed him. “What kind of documents?”
No way was Sean divulging every last piece of information. Kelsey had called him naive when he’d stuck up for their father years ago. She never understood that he saw Dad’s flaws.
Sean could also look at the numbers and see how, if the market hadn’t taken a sudden downturn, Dad could have replaced the missing money and made a fortune for his clients. It was a money game, and for years he’d landed on the winning side, until the one time he didn’t and everything fell apart.
But Sean also learned from Kelsey’s mistakes. She took Dad on directly. Sean preferred to play the role of loyal son and pick his battles. This wasn’t one. “Important documents about government programs.”
“You have these documents on you?”
His dad’s visual tour suggested he was a second or two away from hunting for them in Sean’s jeans and baggy shirt. “I mailed them to Kelsey.”
His dad stopped then. Fury washed over his features, pushing his mouth down and pulling the skin tight over his cheeks. “What were you thinking? She’s not an ally. Ever. Kelsey is out for one person and one person only—Kelsey.”
Sean knew the look and recognized the building rage, and he didn’t welcome either. “I figured no one would look for me near her. It’s not a secret we’re estranged.”
His father scoffed. “Estranged. Ridiculous word.”
“No one would suspect I’d confide in her, and she isn’t interested in anything about my life. She’ll dump the package in her house and forget it.”
“She could get rid of it.”
Sean doubted that. Not a box. She might open it and ignore it. He couldn’t see her throwing it away. After all, she’d kept the handwritten notes Father told her to throw away all those years ago. The same ones that outlined Father’s deposits into accounts he claimed not to own. Instead of listening, she’d kept everything and turned it all over to the prosecution.
Their father would never forgive her for that betrayal, but it suggested to Sean he’d picked the right person to hold the documents. “She has a history of holding on to things. Important things.”
They stood in silence. Neither moved as the motion sensor light over their heads flickered to life. Finally, his father nodded. “True.”
“But now I need the papers and calculations. The few times I’ve been able to borrow a phone I haven’t been able to reach her.”
His father swore and then started walking again, his long legs and large frame eating up the distance to the house in minutes. “Figures.”
“I thought I could try to reach her from here.”
“Kelsey does owe me.” A smile kicked across his father’s face. “Maybe it’s time Kelsey comes home and does her duty.”
* * *
KELSEY CHANGED INTO the pajama shorts set Connor found for her in his wife’s things and dropped back on the mattress. The soft comforter swallowed Kelsey, and a pile of pillows propped her head up. She stared at the ceiling with the intricate moldings and fancy light dropped on a chain right above the double bed and tried to imagine Pax moving around on the floor above. The footsteps had faded, so she strained to get a sense of him. No luck so far.
She expected a makeshift cot on a cramped third floor. They’d described the third floor as a crash pad, and that just did not sound appealing to her at all, but she’d sleep curled up on the floor if it meant a few hours for her to rest.
The day had been long and exhausting. Every time she closed her eyes she saw bodies piled up around her. Keeping them open didn’t exactly blink the visual image totally away either, but the memory lessened.
After some grumbling and arguing between Pax and Connor, she’d been assigned to the guest room on the second floor, the same floor she now knew acted as Connor’s home. And Pax wandered silently somewhere above in the so-called crash pad and managed to be quiet about it.
Because of the high mattress, her feet barely grazed the floor. She swung the one, letting her bare foot ease across the fluffy carpet. From the canopy bed to the soft blue walls, the room telegraphed comfort. It could be in a magazine, the kind she paged through and drooled over. She guessed Connor’s wife deserved the credit.
But it wasn’t her apartment, and Kelsey couldn’t get around that. Humble and made up of mismatched secondhand furniture, that apartment belonged solely to her. Her hard work shaped it. Not being there, not being able to protect it or serve her customers daily as she’d done since she’d taken over the place made her antsy.
Her skin jumped and shifted, pulling to get free, just thinking about the ruined inventory and lost profits. The mortgage company wouldn’t care that her inability to pay was somehow her brother’s fault. She barely understood the connections reaching from his actions to her livelihood. She doubted anyone else would, either.
She turned her head and glanced out the window. The panes looked normal, but she guessed there was some sort of voodoo security film coating on them. Still, they were shut. The cool breeze in the room came from the air conditioner vent blowing across her body. Everything she needed to sleep was there—cool room, comfortable bed and complete safety.
Everything but Pax.
A soft tap on the door dragged her attention away from the dark sky outside. She glanced over in time to see Pax walk into the room. Limp in was more accurate. He wore navy sweats and a tee and he’d never looked better to her. Broad shoulders, muscled arms and a face that made her sigh a little inside when he glanced in her direction even for a second.
She sat up, balancing her upper body on her elbows. A smile inched across her face before she could catch it. On some level she’d known he would come. The house grew quiet and everyone talked about rest, but she knew in her soul he would wait and then visit. She guessed that’s why he fought against her being placed right across the hall from Connor’s bedroom—no privacy.
He leaned back against the door without venturing farther into the private space. “You okay?”
“I should be comatose with sleep by now.”
“Sometimes it’s hard to shake off the adrenaline rush and calm down. And heaven knows you’ve been through a lot today. Men coming at you, me shoving you around.”
Funny how she’d long forgiven him. All that anger drained away until her focus shifted to wanting him around. “I got used to the last part.”
“Oh, yeah?” His eyebrows lifted.
“Yeah.”
He pushed off the door and came deeper into the room. Instead of stopping a respectable distance away and keeping up the charade of bodyguard/client, he sat down on the bed next to her.
The move had her sitting the whole way up and leaning in close. She blamed his greater weight and the way the mattress dipped around him, but deep inside she knew the truth. She was right where she wanted to be...with him.
She ran a palm over his knee and waited for any sign of pain. If he even flinched, she’d wake Joel. “How’s the leg?”
“Medicated to the point of being numb.”
That explained the glassy look to Pax’s eyes. “Did you really get shot?”
“I can show you the wound.” He messed up his naughty innuendo and wiggling eyebrows by picking up her hand and holding it in his. So soft and gentle. So opposite of the guy who fired guns and threw knives. “The bullet
was coming and it was either me or Lara, Davis’s new wife. I picked me.”
Between the words and the touch, Kelsey’s heart flipped. “Sounds heroic.”
“Not really.”
She’d bet Lara would disagree. And if it turned out that Lara was one of those entitled types who didn’t praise Pax for his bravery, Kelsey might just punch her. “Will the wound always hurt?”
He leaned in, meeting her part way, until their shoulders touched. “I get a lot of ‘we’ll have to see’ type of responses from doctors and physical therapists. I feel as if I’ve been off it and taking it easy forever. I’m ready to be back to normal again.”
From the serious expression and continued brushing of his thumb over the back of her hand, she guessed he actually believed what he’d just said. “You think today qualified as being off your leg?”
“Sure.”
Men never ceased to fascinate her. Even the good ones said odd things, and she knew for certain from everything she’d seen and experienced that he fell into that category. “Interesting.”
“Either way, it seems clear I won’t get full use back.”
She tried to imagine what being limited in any physical way did to a man like him. He rescued and saved. Not being able to do that could break him. Could endanger the work he appeared to love. “Does that bother you?”
“Bother?”
The repeated question sounded like a stall to her. “You’re familiar with the word, right? Upset you, anger you, tick you off. Any of those, or do you shrug and take it all in stride?”
He lifted their joined hands and kissed the back of hers. “All injuries are bad, but the only ones you need to worry about are the ones you don’t survive.”
“Wow, that’s...”
His mouth lifted in a half smile. “True?”
“Maudlin.”
He threw back his head and laughed, deep and throaty, genuine and free. “Says the woman who’s been mauled and attacked and shot at today.”
Ruthless Page 12
