Savage Secrets (Titan #6)

by Harber, Cristin

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  Caterina had come up with a first and last name for the Dog Killer. Rocco was up and on his feet before she could continue her thoughts, moving them down the hall as if he were Secret Service headed toward a bunker. Spanish flew from her lips. Eventually, he’d have to learn more Spanish, but if he had to guess, he figured she’d just said, “Slow the hell down.”

  He burst through the doorway of their flying war room. “Got something else.” Nodding to her, urging her on, he nudged her in front of him.

  “Yassine Harhour.” Her breath was a little rushed, and damn, he should have been more careful because she was hurt. “He wants to be famous.”

  “Famous?” Jared asked from the head of the table.

  “Yes. He was obsessed with planning his… coming out.”

  Roman slapped the table. “Lady Gaga.”

  Boss Man swung his gaze over. “Excuse me?”

  “At the ACG compound, El Mateperros had some how-to-be famous book written by Lady Gaga.”

  “So either something more newsworthy hit today, and they put their plans on hold, or…” Jared cracked his knuckles. “Something more newsworthy is coming up.”

  Cash had been balancing on the back two legs of his chair, but he let it fall forward. “There’s a big royal thing happening at home.”

  Jared grumbled. “A big royal thing?”

  “Yeah, Nic and the girls have been following it. Getting all excited over some—”

  “Where?”

  “DC.”

  “When?”

  “No idea.”

  “Fuckin’ A. Someone call Nic and find out when the big royal thing is so I don’t sound like a dick when I call the Secretary of Homeland Security.”

  “Roger that.” Cash grabbed the phone from the middle of the table. A few button pushes later, he lounged back in the chair and everyone waited for him to find out whatever the royal thing was. “Hey, sweet girl.”

  A few groans and eye rolls followed.

  “Hold on a sec, Nic.” He put the phone to his chest. “You fuckers mind?” Then back to the phone. “Remind me what you and the girls were blabbing about? A prince or something.”

  A few uh-huhs later, he smiled and hung up the phone.

  “Well, lover boy?” Jared cracked his knuckles. “What says Nicola?”

  “There’s a prince and princess, a new baby prince, and they’ll be at the White House in two weeks. That seem big enough to make an elusive terrorist mastermind come out of his shy shell?”

  “That’s worth a phone call to make sure it’s a known threat even if they can’t find chatter on the wire to collaborate—”

  “We’ve got a good source.” Rocco tilted his head toward her.

  “True enough.” Jared nodded. “Good job, Caterina. Told you, you’d remember something. Not get some sleep. You did good.”

  ***

  Baltimore, Maryland. In America. The painkillers had worn off, and sun cracked its sleepy, morning light into the hotel room. It seemed odd that she’d been all over the world and never swung by the States, but neither had El Mateperros, to the best of Caterina’s knowledge. Funny how, once she stopped chasing him, even if it was for one night, he would end up in the place where she was going. To the United States. To Rocco’s home.

  Jared took what she knew and fed it to the American protective agencies. Homeland Security. FBI. The CIA and her friends at MI6. While this was planned for US soil, it was the royal family and those agencies and so many more had been chasing El Mateperros.

  Her ribs were wrapped tightly after a Titan doctor had shown up in the middle of the night to give her a medical evaluation in her hotel room. The doctor knew Rocco, too. By the time they went to bed, both she and Rocco had been expertly inspected, dressed, and prescribed to, and good thing. She hadn’t noted her fever, nor had she realized that the pain was masking a possible infection. Their doctor made her promise to get a full work up at his office in the coming days and gave her a heavy dose of antibiotics in the meantime. He also suggested that she find a counselor. Uneasy pinpricks moved across her skin. No. She didn’t want that. She wasn’t ready to deal with her attack. Only her retribution.

  More sunshine spilled into the hotel room. The smell of coffee pushed her further awake, and she stretched every tender muscle. “You did it again, didn’t you?”

  “Yup.” Rocco’s voice was sleep drenched.

  She wouldn’t complain about his habit of slipping out of bed to get coffee as long as he made it back under the covers by the time she woke up. “God, you’re a good man.”

  “You just use me for your caffeine.”

  “Least you know the truth.” She burrowed into his chest. “So now what?”

  “Room service.”

  “And after that?”

  “We go home.”

  “What’s your home like?”

  “Well, if you’re staying there, you can call it your home too.”

  A blush crept through her cheeks. It was more than just him extending that to her. “I’ve never had a place called home before.”

  “Sure you did. You just haven’t in a while.”

  “Spain?”

  “That was home, wasn’t it?”

  “That was a nightmare.”

  “Maybe you’ll go back one day, and it won’t be so bad.”

  She shrugged. “Probably not. Only if I had no other place to go.”

  “How about this: we go home, you get the lay of the land, and we make our next plan after that.”

  “What about El Mateperros?” She flinched. Seriously, she couldn’t help it. No matter what she did, he was on her mind. “I know. That’s all I talk about. I’m trying.”

  Rocco’s hands were far away from her. Every time he touched her unexpectedly, or God forbid, romantically, she jumped out of her skin. It was weird, wanting someone to touch her so badly but yet feeling so panicked by the idea. He must have picked up on it, so while he was bringing coffee into bed, he wasn’t doing much more. It broke her heart, hardened her heart, then broke it all over again because a kiss was all she could handle. A touch and hug when she saw them coming. But nothing more. Pathetic.

  He shifted from her. Maybe he saw on her face what was in her head, and that was why he spent more time smoothing the sheets between them than running his hands over her. “If he’s doing what we think he is, Titan can help, but the US government’s all over it.”

  Tears welled. She was freakin’ sick, wanting to hurt someone and feeling such loss at losing the chance. But it was for the best, letting the government stop a terrorist attack, protect the heads of state, and hopefully catch the major players in the ACG.

  Rocco picked up his hand and deliberately brought it down, stroking her arm. “I know. It’ll be okay though. I promise.”

  The tears fell for so many reasons. “I just want him so damn bad.” And I’m destroyed that he took something from me—from us—that I may never get back.

  “You’ll get your revenge one day. I’m sure.” With exaggerated, careful movements, he pressed his lips to hers, and her crazy urge to maim drifted.

  “Okay. Take me home.” Between wanting to forget about El Mateperros and remembering that Rocco had an ex-girlfriend whose stuff might be lying about, she was less thrilled than she should’ve been but happier than hell she’d handled the kiss without reaction. Maybe she’d summited Mt. Freak-Out and could go back to loving him without problems, maybe even by the end of the day. Yes. She could do that.

  The alarm clock blared. Rocco reached over to shut it off and the butt of her hand shot up, catching him in the jaw.

  Panic. She had flat out—no thinking—panicked.

  So much for summiting Mr. Freak Out. Nothing was changing by the end of the day.

  ***

  Rocco’s gut churned as he unloaded a pretending-not-to-be traumatized Cat from his truck. The last few weeks with her had been on the job, but today he was introducing her into his personal l
ife. No job. No Titan. No terrorists or jets or playing a role for the sake of a job. Not that he’d ever hidden himself from her. But here, at home, there were no distractions from real life, and that was what he wanted with her. A real life.

  He wished he could do a once-over of his house before Cat walked in. No need for real life to start with his ex-girlfriend’s stuff strewn about his place. Well, he’d politely asked her to get her stuff and leave the key, but he hadn’t checked. It hadn’t been as though he planned on going on a job and bringing home a girl to live with him.

  “Why are you smiling like that?” Caterina stood in the driveway, watching him lost in his thoughts.

  “Excited.” Or not sure what’s on the other side of the door.

  His stomach twisted. Worse, what if his ex was waiting for him, wanting to convince him to give it another go? All tied up in a bow or something.

  Cat would probably kill her. Or at least torture. Because that’s what she did well, and for as cool as she played it, he’d accidentally made her jealous. He’d seen it in her eyes. It was kinda cool that she was staking a claim but kinda sucky because he didn’t want her doubting them for a hot second on top of everything else she was dealing with.

  He rubbed his chest, trying to knead away a sudden tightness like heartburn but dull. Caterina had never been tied down before. Never had a place to lay her head long-term. Making her jumpy, startling her with baggage from an ex on top of recovering from an attack, wasn’t a well thought-out plan.

  Cautiously, he took her hand, lacing his fingers with hers. “Let’s go, Kitten.”

  “Okay.” Her scratched cheeks blushed, and she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever laid eyes on.

  After some quick code-punching and deadbolt-unlocking, the door swung open, and Rocco placed his key in her hand. “All yours.”

  And now they were walking through his foyer while he was on hyper alert for all things feminine.

  “Nervous?” She dropped his hand. “What do you say? Cold feet?”

  “Hell no. Just…”

  “Ah, worried about love letters and rose petals left around your place?”

  He coughed. “Not my style.”

  “So what then?”

  He leaned against the wall, pulling her carefully to him. His forehead kissed hers. His lips followed. “You’re kind of feral. And this is pretty damn domestic.”

  “True.”

  “So how does it work?”

  “You do have cold feet.”

  His chest tightened all over. “No way.”

  “So? What?”

  “When the adrenaline wears off, where’s that leave us?”

  “Hopefully in bed.” She laughed.

  She joked, but he knew that was sugarcoated, at least for the foreseeable future. “Say it in Spanish.”

  “Esperemos que en la cama.”

  Every. Single. Time. Sucking both his lips into his mouth, Rocco focused on flirting without taking it anywhere. “Tell me something else.”

  “Estás loco.”

  His hands dropped to her waist. “Calling me names?”

  “Maybe.”

  He wanted to take her to his room, make her his in their bed. Make their bed. His breath hitched, practically panting for wanting her and scared like all hell that he’d get close in too fast and scare her. The erection between his legs wasn’t helping at all. Sadness floated in her eyes, and she had to be thinking a variation of the same thing. “I’m in love with you, Caterina. You need to know that.”

  She nodded.

  “So whatever it is that you need. Waiting or talking or—”

  “Killing.”

  His eyes sank shut. The chance of her finding revenge against El Mateperros was nil. “Whatever it is, we’ll get through it.”

  “Okay.” She was so sad. It stabbed right into his heart.

  His phone buzzed with a text message, stopping the conversation, which was good because he had no idea where to take it. A quick look at the text made the moment even worse. Assignment up. Get to HQ.

  He brought her to the States, brought her home, and now had to leave her with all the baggage and no one to help. He’d be lucky if she was still here when he came back.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  Caterina’s first night in Rocco’s house and she’d spent all alone. One text message and he was gone. It was expected. She’d known this came with his job, and now she was surrounded by all-American normalcy.

  Until he came back, she had his house, his truck, and strict instructions not to mess with his DVR. But he didn’t say anything about his Frosted Flakes, and she was on a second bowl and completing the children’s maze on the back of the mini milk box when the doorbell rang. Looking more like a kid in a giant’s clothes, she slid across the kitchen floor in his oversized socks, which matched his oversized shirt and shorts. They smelled like him and swallowed her whole, making her smile every time she thought about him.

  Cautiously, she peeked through the peep hole. A blonde stood there, hands on hips, with lips and boobs that had more than a little bit of enhancement. That couldn’t be the ex-girlfriend. Could it? Three deadbolts and a security system that took more than few button pushes, and she had the thing disengaged and the door thrown open.

  “Hi—”

  “You have got to be kidding me.” Blondie’s chin jutted out. “Who. Are. You.”

  A living, breathing Barbie doll was about to get a face full of fist. “I’m Cat.”

  “I bet you are.”

  That particular American phrase wasn’t lost on her. It roughly translated to I hate you, bitch. “Rocco’s not here.”

  “His truck’s here.”

  “Right.” Maybe Barbie didn’t have a lot upstairs. “But, like I said, he’s not.”

  “Let me guess. One of his super-secret, I-can’t-tell-you-anything work outings. Classic.”

  “Work outings?” Outings didn’t do justice to all the shoot ‘em up, knock ‘em down that Rocco did. Nothing in that word that said he’d give his life trying to do some good in the world.

  “Yeah.” She eyed Cat’s oversized pajamas. “But I didn’t expect him to—”

  “Be very careful about what comes out of your mouth next. I’m more than familiar with his outings because we work in the same industry. That makes me very, very adept at shutting your mouth for you.”

  Barbie’s mouth dropped. “You think he’s so into you. Well, he was going to marry me, and that wasn’t that long ago.”

  Cat lifted her hand. The Locke’s wedding band was still in place because she’d forgotten to take it off. She wiggled her fingers. Not that she was really married to Rocco. Not that it was a good idea to pretend she was. It just happened. “Go. Away.”

  Barbie’s mouth fell again, hanging open much longer. “No, he didn’t.”

  True. No he didn’t, but Cat was keeping that to herself. “You need to leave.”

  “I have stuff here.”

  “It’s gone.” Rocco had said that his ex might’ve left a toothbrush. A toothbrush she could handle, but not tall, blonde and perky going through his house and claiming items. “I’ll tell him you stopped by.”

  Barbie smirked. “He’s not that great of a catch. His stupid job always comes first. You’re all alone, waiting, talking to me, and it’s because he’s out there where there’s a ton more of you, wherever you came from—”

  “Classy.” Wow, did that sound familiar—something else always coming first.

  “You’re nothing compared to his job.”

  “Adios.” Nudging the door closed with her Rocco-sock-covered foot, she waved her left hand, flashing the ring again.

  Barbie’s words stung, not because Cat believed them but because that was the attitude she’d pulled since day one with Rocco. He could never compete with El Mateperros. Everything else she wanted was secondary. After the Dog Killer died at her hand… how did that reshuffle her priorities? Caterina peeked through the peephole and watched the woman shake
her ass as she left. Blondie McGee had choked matrimony down Rocco’s throat. Maybe Cat’s disinterest in everything other than a certain terrorist was her selling point.

  She was safe. Holy freakin’ matrimony wasn’t her number one priority, but what if she wanted it to be… And where had that thought come from?

  ***

  Rocco had been gone for days, but someone didn’t know that. The cell phone he’d left her rang constantly. Ringing and ringing and ringing—driving her absolutely bonkers. Probably Busty Blonde Barbie. It wasn’t her business who was calling, but for sanity’s sake, she was about to answer and tell them to trust the voice mail. It would do the dang job.

  It rang again, the same number that been calling for days. This time she was done. “Hello?”

  “It’s about time you picked up the phone.” The woman’s annoyed voice sounded familiar, but Cat couldn’t place it. “Christ, I was thinking about getting worried.”

  What? “Who is this?”

  “Seriously?”

  “What? Yes. Seriously.”

  The woman huffed. “This is Sugar.”

  “Oh. Explains so much.” Cat rolled her eyes.

  “He doesn’t have me programmed in?”

  “Guess not.”

  Sugar scoffed in her ear. “Just me, or in general, he doesn’t have people programmed in?”

  “I don’t know, Sugar, I haven’t gone through his phone.”

  “Wait, what? Seriously? What’s wrong with you?”

  Caterina didn’t have an answer for any of those borderline rude questions. “Um—”

  “Whatever, answer the phone from now on. How else am I supposed to get a hold of you?”

  Me? “Why? Everything is okay?”

  “Hell, nothing’s ever okay, but there’s nothing to complain about at the moment. Get dressed. We’re heading your way.”

  “What—” Caterina pinched the back of her neck. “We, who?”

  “The girls. We’re headed to dinner at Mia’s, and you’re coming. Like it or not.”

  “Why?” Not that she didn’t want to make friends, but was Sugar friend-making material? Cat didn’t know her, didn’t exactly trust her.