Blind Fury

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Blind Fury Page 8

by Gwen Hernandez


  Then Colin’s heat pressed home and she dropped the phone.

  “Huh.” Jenna stared at her cell phone for a minute, not sure how she felt about Tara’s revelation. She’d slept with Colin. And apparently he was still there. So much for her friend’s intention to play it cautious with men from now on.

  “What’s up?” Mick asked, jolting her back to the present.

  They hadn’t spoken for the last two miles of their run, but somewhere along the way—without actually discussing it—they’d come to an uneasy truce.

  “Tara’s busy right now. She’ll call me later.” Jenna tucked the phone into her purse and wiped her forehead with the back of her hand. “I need a shower.” She was sticky with salt and sweat from their run and probably didn’t smell too pleasant either.

  He studied her face, which heated a little more every second he held her gaze. “Is everything okay?”

  Apparently for Tara and Colin it was. So far. “Yeah, fine. It sounds like she and Colin are getting along well.”

  Mick grunted and grabbed his water bottle.

  “What was that for?” she asked.

  “Nothing.”

  Now he had her worried. Could Colin be involved in this mess? Was her friend in danger? Maybe Mick was just jealous that Colin was getting some and he wasn’t. After all, he’d been in the desert for almost six months, and now he was stuck watching over her, with no chance of hot sex with his slut of the week. Yeah, so she was a bit biased about the women Mick dated. Or maybe envious.

  She squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath. It was past time to snap out of this pathetic crush she had on him. There was enough crap going on in her life.

  After a hot shower and some lunch, Jenna pulled out her laptop and logged into work. Carl had already sent her three emails demanding to know when she was coming back to work and if she would have her project ready by the Wednesday due date.

  Never mind that she had lost her brother, her car, and her house. He hadn’t even bothered to express his sympathy. Asshole. If she had her way, she’d never go back, but since she’d missed her interview with Travers & West, she had nowhere else to go. Besides, she wasn’t sure she could handle any more changes. Working for a jerk was still less stressful than starting a new job. And work wasn’t remotely challenging when compared to the stresses she’d been subjected to over the last few days. She was grateful to immerse herself in programming for a while.

  At some point—it could have been thirty minutes or half a day, she had no idea—Mick tapped her on the shoulder. “Hey, you’ve been at it for hours. Are you hungry? I ordered a pizza, and it should be here any minute.”

  She stretched and nodded, surprised to see that it was dark outside. “That sounds great.” Cheese, unlike french fries, she couldn’t resist, and her stomach growled just thinking about it.

  She shut down her computer and moved to the couch, leaving her things spread across the breakfast bar. Moments later, the doorbell rang. While Mick settled the bill with the delivery driver, Jenna tried to figure out the best way to get him to talk. She understood that he was under orders not to discuss the incident, but still…

  Why was he so afraid to tell her what had happened? If Rob had been murdered, she wanted to make sure the killer didn’t get away with it. Was that so wrong? And not knowing was driving her crazy. Not to mention that the information might be crucial to understanding why she was being targeted, why they both had been. She couldn’t just let it go.

  After Mick sat down, setting the pizza on the coffee table, she decided to try again. “I know you don’t want to talk about what happened to Rob, but can you at least help me understand why?”

  He glanced at her with a scowl on his face. “Besides that it might land me in jail?”

  “I can keep a secret. And if there’s any chance his death is related to what’s been happening, how can you keep it from me?”

  Mick lowered the piece of pizza he’d been preparing to bite into, setting it down on the open box with a sigh. “Jesus, you’re like a broken record. Let’s say he was murdered because he knew too much. We have no proof. The pictures are pretty damning evidence that Dolph and Rizzo were involved in smuggling, but they don’t implicate either man in murder. Everything we have is circumstantial. It doesn’t tie them to the threats on us, either. Hell, we can’t even prove they know we have the photos. And if we show our hand, we might be putting ourselves in more danger. As for witnesses, I saw Rob die and I still can’t tell you if it was murder or not.”

  He was right, but she couldn’t let it go. “I want someone to pay for Rob’s death, and I want to feel safe again. But I also want to understand what happened.” Didn’t he get that? “I realize you’re trying to protect me, but I don’t know if the reality could possibly be worse than what I’m imagining. I’d rather just know.”

  “Jay, stop. We can look into the smuggling, but I can’t tell you anything about the day Rob was shot. I gave my story to the State Department team and it’s done. I’m not supposed to talk about it.” Jaw clenched tight, he stared at his hands. “If they want to release the details, they will.”

  She stood up, mad enough to stomp. “No, they won’t. They’ll sweep it under the rug like they’ve tried to do with everything else. I would take the pictures to them in a heartbeat if I thought it would do any good, but the government needs private contractors. They can’t afford the bad press any more than Claymore can, and you know it.”

  He shook his head, his stern features reddening.

  She was getting to him. She’d never seen him angry, and it was a bit scary, but she was determined to keep pushing. “Was it something Rob did? Was your team not supposed to be there? I don’t care. I don’t want to sue or talk to the press. It won’t change my opinion of my brother.” She hesitated as something occurred to her. “Or you.”

  Mick’s fists clenched and looked away. She was getting close. And then another thought struck her. “Were you…did you have something to do with it?”

  “For God’s sake!” He jumped up, knocking the pizza box onto the floor with his knee. “How can you even think that?” Confusion crossed his face as he studied the mess on the carpet. “Shit.”

  He looked up at her, his blue eyes blazing with pain and frustration. In a low voice that was more frightening than if he’d yelled, he said, “Rob was like a brother to me. Closer. If I had been responsible for his death, I would have made damn sure that I died there too.”

  Then he crossed into his bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

  She stood frozen for a full minute, her body trembling uncontrollably. Blinking back tears, she took a deep breath, finally unlocking her joints enough to pick up the slices of pizza that had flipped onto the floor. Grease from the cheese was already forming an oblong stain.

  Should she leave or would that piss him off even more because of the damned promise? The promise that made her wonder if Rob had foreseen the danger, or if he was just being the same overly protective big brother he’d always been.

  Either way, she was grateful for Mick’s protection.

  Maybe she shouldn’t put so much pressure on him. She couldn’t afford to lose him as an ally, but she still wanted answers. There had to be another way to find out what she wanted to know, because with or without his help, she was going to get the truth.

  CHAPTER SIX

  MICK ROSE FROM HIS bed after forty minutes of reliving the day of Rob’s death. Enough, he fumed, pacing his bedroom floor, vaguely aware of cars passing by on the parkway eight floors below. Goddammit, why couldn’t Jenna just leave this alone?

  He marched to the bathroom door and turned back again. Okay, he could understand her desire to know. In her shoes, he’d feel the same way. But there was too much at stake. Whoever had targeted him and Jenna—whether the brass at Claymore, or just some rogue team members—wasn’t fooling around.

  Why hadn’t Rob told him what was going on? He’d noticed a change in his friend during their last few
weeks in Afghanistan, but he’d figured it was because Rob had decided to go home. Why hadn’t Mick asked more questions? Would it have changed anything?

  God, he hated this whole mess. How he could be so amped up after having run eight miles that morning, he had no idea, but Jenna pushed all of his buttons.

  Didn’t she understand that the truth could put her in danger?

  Somehow, he needed to distract her while he figured things out. Could he give her just enough of the truth for her to believe it was everything? He’d have to think about that. Maybe there was a way. In the meantime, he needed to mend things between them.

  He opened the door, ready to apologize and placate. Instead, the words stuck in his throat. He processed the scene in one glance. Jenna was leaning over a shopping bag, dressed only in tan bra and bikini underwear. She probably considered the color sensible and boring.

  But goddamn, sensible or not, the look was far from boring. She was flawless. Narrow waist, long runner’s legs, and miles of creamy skin. He finally understood the meaning of lithe.

  All of his anger, apologies, and promises twisted into one primal thought: I want her.

  With more restraint than he knew he possessed, he turned his back on her and cleared his throat. Staring at the door didn’t do a damn thing to erase the image of her from his mind.

  “Mick!” she yelped from across the room.

  “I didn’t expect you to be changing out here. Sorry.” Liar. He wasn’t even a little bit sorry.

  The sound of frantic rummaging reached his ears and he imagined her hastily covering up that gorgeous body with the oversized, striped pajamas she’d bought at the mall.

  “Okay,” she said. “Did you need something?”

  He walked casually into the kitchen, avoiding her eye. “A drink. And I figured you might need to use the bathroom.” He snuck a peek at her. Yep. Baggy jammies. Pity.

  She eyed him cautiously, arms crossed over her chest, probably wondering why he was being so nice. “Yeah. I was about to use my finger as a tooth brush,” she said, but didn’t move. “Look, I’m sorry a—”

  “Don’t apologize,” he said. “I overreacted.” Hope blossomed in her pretty eyes, and he had to quash it quick before she got the wrong idea. “And no, I still can’t give you details, but I understand your need to know, I really do.”

  She raised one eyebrow and tilted her head. He felt like he was back at home trying to do the two-step around his mom’s knowing stare. The one she’d pulled out whenever he did something wrong and tried to cover it up.

  “Just know that Rob died with his honor intact, okay? I respected him more than anyone I’ve ever known, and nothing has changed that.”

  Her head dipped into the barest hint of a nod, and then she wordlessly grabbed her cosmetics bag and made a beeline for the bathroom. She stopped in the bedroom doorway, her hand gripping the jamb. “Thanks.”

  He held her gaze for several heartbeats, mentally cursing his team for getting into that firefight, the bastard who fired the fatal rounds into Rob’s chest, Rob for his heroics, and himself for not finishing off Rob’s killer when he had the chance.

  And damn if he didn’t want to sink to his knees and spill it all out to Jenna right then and there. Judging by the look in her eyes, that was what she wanted too, more than anything. Instead, he said, “How about tomorrow I give Dan a call? Maybe he knows something about the smuggling.”

  If they could figure out who was behind the illegal drug and weapons shipments, if he could find real proof, then maybe he could find a way to end this.

  “That’s a good idea. Is there anyone else you trust enough from your team to ask about it?”

  “None who are still alive.” Despite Dan’s efforts, Olszewski hadn’t made it either.

  She blanched, then nodded and scurried into his bedroom.

  No matter what, he couldn’t tell her about that awful day. It was his cross to bear. The truth held too much power, and if it came out, she’d get hurt. She thought that knowing the truth would bring her closure. But it would only bring more pain.

  It would be a long, hard fight to protect her from herself, but it was the only job he had, and he intended to do it or die trying.

  On Monday morning, Jenna was back at the breakfast bar—it was either that or the futon—listening in while Mick talked to Dan. Based on his end of the conversation she was pretty sure Dan didn’t know anything.

  Mick signed off and met her gaze. “He had no idea that our guys were involved, or that Rob had been tracking them. I mean, we all knew drugs and weapons were moving in and out of Afghanistan illegally, but Dan didn’t know Claymore was part of it.”

  Well, what now? If Claymore had any influence at the State Department, handing over the photos could put her and Mick in more danger. Same for the local police. If she gave them the images, they might be better equipped to solve the case on her house, but if local detectives started investigating the men on Rob’s team, it would only confirm for Claymore that she had evidence. And who knew what they’d do then…

  Besides, the cops had no jurisdiction over anything that had happened in Afghanistan, and she wanted the keep the evidence for use as leverage. Things had been quiet over the past couple of days, but she didn’t think that would last forever.

  Her affinity for following the rules plagued her, because surely withholding potential evidence was a crime of some kind, but she didn’t think sharing it would be a good move right now. Mick didn’t argue. In fact, he seemed relieved that she didn’t want to turn over the photos, but when she asked him why, he wouldn’t answer. “It’s your choice,” he said.

  Some help he was.

  Not sure what her next step should be, Jenna decided to check in with Tara at work. “Is the date over yet?” she asked, unable to keep the sarcasm out of her voice.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cut you off like that yesterday.” Tara giggled. “Colin was kind of, um…persistent.”

  Again, in the category of don’t need to know. “I was just surprised that you let him spend the night on your first date.” Kind of. Not really.

  “Actually, I didn’t. We ended up going out on Friday night. It was so romantic. We toured the monuments at night after having dinner at a great little kabob place in DuPont Circle. And you’d be so proud of me, Jenna. I turned him down the first night.”

  “Oh. Well, great. I hope it works out.” Be careful.

  “Me too.” Tara’s voice was rich with the excitement of new romance.

  Wow, she was really falling for this guy. Jenna tried to dial back her cynicism, because she wanted her friend to be happy. She deserved to have a good man in her life for a change. Hopefully, Colin could be that guy, in spite of whatever misgivings Mick had. “It’s great to hear you sounding so happy, Tara.”

  “Thanks. I can’t give you a lot of details right now, though, because Wicked Wanda of the West is on a rampage today and she’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  Jenna had to laugh at Tara’s description of her new boss. The redhead was not well-liked in the HR department where she’d taken over for Tara’s previous supervisor, a friendly old guy named Reggie who had retired after forty years at QDS. “You definitely don’t want to mess with her. She might turn you into a toad.”

  “I don’t doubt it.” Tara sighed. “Any idea when you’ll be back?”

  “Soon, I hope. Mick wants me to wait a few more days.”

  “Are you doing okay at his place? Anything I should know about?” Tara asked, her voice heavy with innuendo.

  Only in her dreams. “Tara.” Jenna could only laugh at her friend’s reliably dirty mind. “I’m fine. I feel safe here.”

  “Good. Any news on who destroyed your house?”

  “No. The police are investigating.”

  “I hope they figure it out soon. I miss having you around.”

  “Believe it or not, I miss being there,” Jenna said. “Hey, before you go, can you do me a favor the next time you talk to C
olin?”

  “Sure.”

  “Will you find out if he was with Rob’s team the day he died? And if so, see if he’ll tell you what happened.”

  “He’s not big on talking about his time over there at all, but I can ask.” Tara hesitated. “What’s going on?”

  How much to tell her? Jenna’s instinct was to keep it close to the vest, but if she couldn’t trust Tara, then there was no one left. “I’m not sure, but I don’t think anyone’s telling the whole story. And, I’m starting to wonder if maybe Rob was more than just a casualty of a war zone.”

  “Are you serious?”

  Jenna considered mentioning Rob’s photos, but something held her back. She’d trust Tara with her life, but she couldn’t ignore Mick’s instincts about Colin. And even if he wasn’t involved, Colin might mention it to someone in Claymore who was.

  Jenna sighed. “Yeah, I’m serious, but I’m probably delusional too. You know what? Just forget about it.” She was starting to regret her decision to involve Tara. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. I know things are hard right now. I’ll poke around a little and call you later.”

  After thanking Tara, she thumbed off her phone and listened to the water from Mick’s shower. She wasn’t cut out for subterfuge. Sneaking around made her jittery. And she wasn’t even doing anything wrong. She was just trying to see if she could get information from another source.

  Still, she hated lying to him. It felt like a betrayal of one of the few allies she had left. But at least they weren’t fighting. Now all she had to do was figure out how to keep from acting like a lovesick fool around him, and they’d be grand.

  But then she’d always struggled with her feelings for him. Like that time when Rob threw a Christmas party during a month of leave from Claymore, and Mick cornered her beneath the mistletoe.

  “I’m not supposed to kiss you.” He leaned his forearm against the wall, looking down at her with sin in his eyes.

 

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