His eyes snapped to Nate’s, prickling with stinging heat.
“Well I remember!” he shouted as excruciating pain lanced through him. “Her smile, her laugh, how she used to fucking look at me!” His voice turned ragged. “I fucking remember. And while I was grieving over her, she was fucking someone else.”
He flinched at his own words.
Nate stared at him with a mixture of sadness and consternation. Travis turned away and gripped his head with both hands in frustration. “FUCK!”
“Knowing this, do you still want her back?”
Travis searched inside himself for the answer and it didn’t take long. “I do. It’d kill me to lose her a second time.”
“You’ll have to get over what happened with John Cooper.”
“I know.”
“Maybe you should let her decide. Leave her alone at first.”
“No—fucking—way.”
“Travis,” Nate eyed him warily. “You have to consider that she might have left with John Cooper willingly. They’ve been friends since they were kids.”
“Not another word on that, Reece, or you’ll be picking yourself off the floor,” Travis warned. “I’ll say this to you only once. John Cooper may have been a fixture in Sarah’s life. I hated it. But what Sarah and I shared was real. I just fucking know it. I suspected that fucker Cooper had always been in love with her, but Sarah never looked at him the way she looked at me. That was how I knew her heart was all mine the way it fucking mattered.”
Nate nodded solemnly.
“The only way Sarah or Caitlin would know that she belongs to me is if she spends time with me. We fell in love overnight, Nate. I’m not saying it’s going to happen that way again, what with everything that’s gone down between her and Cooper, not to mention this distrust she’s harboring against me right now. But fuck, man, I’ve held on for three years. You think I’m going to let her get away now?”
“It might not be up to you.”
“I know. That’s why I’ve made contingencies and flew via chartered flight instead.”
“Uh . . . you don’t mean abduct her?”
“If I have to, yes.”
Nate barked with laughter, although there wasn’t much humor in it. “Kidnapping is a class-1 felony where we’re from, my friend. You can kiss your reputation and business goodbye.”
“She’s my wife.”
“Not according to her.”
Travis realized his friend was going to poke holes in all his plans. They were not the type of best friends that stuck their heads up each other’s asses. They could be blunt and to the point and keep each other honest. This didn’t mean Nate didn’t annoy him, which was particularly true at this moment when it concerned what he wanted most: Sarah. Or Caitlin—he’d call her that, if that was what she wanted. If that was what made her feel comfortable.
Just then, the door opened, and Ms. Lopez stepped into the room. The scowl on her face indicated her displeasure with what had transpired.
“I’d like to go on record, that what you did was the stupidest way to win your wife back,” Ms. Lopez said.
“You neglected to tell me she had amnesia. How the fuck did you think I was gonna react when she tells me she has another man?”
“I had to protect her best interests. People are after her. It makes me worry what she really knows.”
“Do you believe I’m her husband?”
“I do, Mr. Blake. And I’ve talked to Ms. Kincaid at length to calm her down. I’ve shown her the evidence of your claim that proves she’s your wife, and she’s considering this.”
“Considering,” Travis repeated the word before his eyes flashed angrily. “What do you mean considering?”
“She may not want to leave the embassy with you.”
“The fuck she isn’t. Where would she go? And didn’t she say there were people after her?”
“That’s what I tried to tell her. You own a security business. Who best to keep her safe if not you?”
“Thank you.” Hell, that was the first compliment this woman had paid him.
“Don’t thank me yet. Now, the CIA wants a word with her, and I suggested that you and I should be present. She was amenable to that.”
Travis looked at Nate who grinned at him. Finally, some headway.
When the three of them emerged from the room, Travis immediately sensed something amiss. The guard in front of Sarah’s room was missing, and there were droplets of dark liquid on the floor. Blood. His anxiety deepened when Ms. Lopez sprinted in front of him and barged into the room, Travis close at her heels.
Sarah was gone, and there was an unconscious guard on the floor with an apparent gunshot wound to the neck.
Nate cursed a blue streak behind him as Ms. Lopez picked up the phone to alert security.
Travis had one thought in mind as his eyes followed the bloody tracks on the floor, smeared purposefully by a shoe. Sarah had left them some breadcrumbs, and he was going to get her back.
*****
Caitlin was numb. The news that she had a husband had thrown her for a loop, but it was the news of Jase’s death that eventually caused her to implode into a crying mess. He was gone. How could he be gone? Caitlin should have stood in front of the car and insisted he take her with him.
Whoever was after Jase could still be after her. And Ms. Lopez was insisting that this man, Travis Blake, could be the only person to keep her safe. Wasn’t it convenient that the man was also her husband? What if Travis Blake was telling the truth that Jase was the one who took her from him?
It’s time for you to stop running. I’m not the one you love.
Did he mean Travis? That she loved Travis?
So had Jase been lying to her all along?
Caitlin admitted there was something viscerally familiar about Travis when he walked into the room. Her mind didn’t know him, but there was something, although fleeting, that drew her to him. Of course, he being a damned good-looking man skewed her senses a bit. And then he opened his mouth and nothing but hateful words spewed forth.
No. They weren’t hateful. Her words were, for that was genuine pain in his eyes when she had scorned his claim that she was his wife. And she had flaunted another man in front of him.
Caitlin cringed with guilt. Adulteress came to mind. Was it adultery when she had no frigging clue that she was married?
A scuffle by the door drew her attention. She stood up in alarm when she heard the familiar muffled sound of suppressed gunfire.
She tensed when the door opened, and a man she had never seen before came in with a gun pointed at her, dragging an unconscious, hopefully-not-dead Marine into the room.
“Time to go, sweetheart.”
She was screwed.
The man, who Caitlin suspected was Lewis Adler, led her up a flight of steps back into the main floor where she had originally waited to be interviewed. But instead of heading for the front entrance, he guided her to the back—the southwest wing where there was some street parking. Caitlin knew this because she had scoped out the embassy last Sunday in case she had to make an unexpected exit. Adler was doing exactly what she would have done.
He had the gun in his coat as he held her arm firmly. He whispered in her ears, “I have no problem blowing your brains out. They’d pay me whether you’re dead or alive, but you’re worth more to me alive. And if you make your deal right, you may just come out of this alive as well. Don’t try anything, or you’ll have more than the guard’s death on your hands.”
“You’re the one who shot him. Don’t try your killer’s psychology on me.”
That earned her a painful squeeze on her upper arm.
“I thought your employer was the CIA?”
The man had the gall to laugh. “Sweetheart, you can’t blame a man for wanting to make a little dough on the side.”
There were few people milling around in this area of the embassy, and no one paid attention to the pair of them. Finally, they reached the rear exit. Caitlin
made pleading eye contact with the guard, but the Marine only looked at Adler and inclined his head.
“God, do you have everyone on your payroll?” Caitlin groused as she was dragged toward a street corner.
“There’s a CIA station at the embassy. I work here, girl.”
Great. She just walked into a trap. She dug in her heels and stopped walking. Maybe she could make a run for it. Adler showed her the imprint of the gun’s muzzle through the thin fabric of his trench coat.
“Listen, Ms. Kincaid. Do you see that mother with her kid across the street?”
“You wouldn’t.”
“Do you really want to test that theory right now?” Adler looked at her cruelly. “Get fuckin’ moving.”
He jerked her to start walking again as they headed down the street that ran parallel to the length of the embassy. They stopped; she heard Adler curse. It appeared his contacts were late. He started getting agitated as the minutes ticked by. Caitlin bit back her tongue before she could make a smart-ass remark that might successfully put a bullet through her head. Jase always did say her mouth got them into trouble.
“Where the fuck are they?” Adler muttered as he looked at his watch and craned his neck to look up the street. Caitlin was figuring out how to make her getaway. There were too many people, which would have been great for getting herself lost in the crowd. But if Adler was as sadistic as he sounded, she couldn’t risk innocent bystanders getting hurt, even if it were to save herself.
A familiar sensation crept up her spine. Oh no. Not now. She tried to control the surge of adrenalin that would release the ugliness within her. A late model Audi sped down the street and screeched to a halt in front of them.
“You guys are late.”
“Komarov had some last minute change of plans. He wants the girl alive.” A bald man with a Russian accent stepped out of the car and opened the back door. He grabbed Caitlin from Adler and whispered in her ear. “But if you give us a problem, you’ll be ending up like your boyfriend. And we’ll make it look like an accident.”
These men killed Jase. She was so tired of people threatening to kill her.
Fury joined the adrenalin surge to form the worst nightmare her enemies could ever imagine. She resisted the push inside the car, which solicited a quick punch to her gut. Pain was the final stimuli. Her veins popped as power coursed through her sinewy flesh, and before a mindless rage took over her entire being, her last thought was: They have no idea what they have unleashed.
Her mind blanked.
*****
Travis burst out of the southwest entrance of the embassy with Nate. A guard had reported seeing Lewis Adler leave with a blonde woman about five minutes ago. He had ignored Ms. Lopez’s warning to let them handle the abduction because he would be damned if he wasted another minute. He had no weapon on him, but that didn’t mean he was any less deadly. He had taken men down with his bare hands before.
There was a commotion down the street that had drawn a couple of spectators.
No! His mind screamed. He couldn’t be too late. Travis ran in that direction.
“Nate,” he yelled. “You’re on stealth.”
Nate nodded as he dematerialized into the crowd.
He reached a haphazardly parked Audi. Two men were down with bullet holes in their head. Sarah was standing over another man whose nose was clearly broken. She had a gun pointed at him. The man had an outstretched arm begging her to let him live, but she was staring down at him with an expression so lifeless that it raised goose bumps on his skin.
“Sarah?”
The gun shifted to him. Shit.
“She’s crazy, man. She’s fucking crazy,” the man on the ground said.
Her pupils were dilated. What the fuck?
“Sarah? Babe, it’s me. Travis.” Fuck. That was really stupid. She didn’t fucking know him. The hand on the gun tightened.
“Caitlin.” Her eyes blinked. That’s it.
“Caitlin. Give me the gun, babe.” Travis inched closer and spotted Nate making his move behind her. The finger on the trigger squeezed just as Nate knocked her arm upward and wrestled her to the ground.
“Don’t hurt her!” Travis yelled.
Nate grunted as Sarah landed an elbow into his gut. She spun her legs in an upward scissor, the momentum bringing her back to her feet. When had she become Bruce Lee?
She came right at him. Her fist flying out so fast, he barely had time to dodge the blow. He came up under her and had her in a sleeper hold. She struggled. Damn, she was strong.
Too strong, Travis noted grimly.
“I’m sorry, babe,” Travis whispered as her struggles diminished with the reduced blood supply to her brain. He noted belatedly that Nate had gone after the man with the broken nose. Security swarmed around them as Sarah finally succumbed to his stranglehold.
Travis swept her up in his arms and marched back to the embassy.
*****
“You’re so beautiful, sunshine girl.”
“Keep that thing away from me.”
“Sex hair. You look thoroughly fucked.”
Laughter.
“I love you, Sarah.”
Caitlin opened her eyes. That was new. The recurring dream always ended with the laughter. In the dream she was in bed, a rumpled white sheet partially covering her nakedness. The window was open, an ocean breeze fluttering the gauzy drapes. A face was blurry and blocked mostly by a smartphone taking pictures of her. Travis. It was his voice. Either the dream was a memory or a complete figment of her subconscious.
Her eyes took in where she was. She had woken up earlier, disoriented and a bit panicked. A soothing baritone voice coaxed her to take some water and, she suspected, a sedative. She always roused alert, this grogginess was drug-induced.
She blacked out and probably scared the shit out of everyone. The embassy wouldn’t want to protect an unstable person. Dangerous. Liability. She wouldn’t be surprised if Travis Blake hightailed it out of Berlin and figured the best recourse was to let the dead stay buried. Only Jase knew how to talk her down from losing control, which was why when they were being pursued by assassins, she was herself.
A voice floated in from the outside room. Caitlin frowned and appraised where she was. This was not a typical budget hotel. Luxurious beddings surrounding her in such opulent warmth, she loathed to emerge from its depths. The walls were Italian plaster that was finished with a damask stencil; the room was five-star deluxe all the way.
She reluctantly swung her legs to the floor. Her limbs were bare. She was in her underwear. What the hell?
Caitlin was no prude, but getting undressed by a stranger was still mortifying. She had to admit that it was probably to make her feel comfortable. She tamped back her indignation and decided to suck it up and be grateful to whoever put her into bed.
She padded to the closet. A hotel of this caliber should have a robe. Finding one, she wrapped her aching body in plush terry cotton. Her muscles were always sore after an episode, although she wouldn’t put it past whoever subdued her to use justifiable force. Neither her jaw nor head hurt, but her throat was a bit tender. Blood choke.
She opened the door and immediately spied Travis Blake standing by the window with a phone to his ear. He immediately turned to face her and ended his call. He was barefoot, his long legs encased in worn jeans, and a white undershirt outlined an impressive upper body. Her eyes tracked past his neck, the firm lips, the high-bridged manly nose, until finally, she was arrested by piercing sapphire blue eyes. Her mouth went dry as she felt the magnetic pull of pure masculine sex on a stick.
What the hell was wrong with her? Even if Jase lied to her, he was her man until three days ago or three months ago, depending how she defined their relationship. And Travis is your husband, a righteous voice nagged her.
“How are you feeling?”
Standard question.
“I’m groggy. Did you give me something?”
Travis inclined his head. “We had to se
date you.” His tone was wary. “I need to know how often you get this way.”
“By this way, you mean violent?”
“Sar-Caitlin. Do you remember anything at all?”
She shook her head.
Travis was silent for a beat and then, “What brings this on? Is it accidental or can you control it?”
“I can’t control it,” Caitlin replied, ignoring the first question and answering the second.
It was not lost on Travis that she was evading his question. His brows puckered into a frown. “Caitlin, I need to know what sets you off. I can’t have you on a plane 40,000 feet in the air and have you go all ninja on us.”
If the situation wasn’t so serious, she would have laughed. She didn’t think Travis was in a joking mood either. “When I feel threatened, it kicks in. Adrenalin sets it off.”
“Who did this to you, Caitlin?” Travis asked quietly. There was an underlying menace in his voice, though not directed at her.
Caitlin moved away from him and walked to the kitchen. “I’m not sure I trust you enough to tell you everything.”
“But you will.”
She cut Travis a sharp glance, but he was staring at her with determination.
“You’re awfully sure I’m coming back with you.”
“There’s nothing for you here except danger.” His nostrils flared. “That stunt you pulled this afternoon is all over the internet. My people are trying to clean it up, but I don’t think that’s possible. It’s already on the news.”
“What—”
“I used another identity to check into this hotel, but we still need to leave immediately. If possible, within the next two hours. I already have my plane on standby.”
“But—”
Travis closed the distance between them and gripped her shoulders. “Listen to me. The men who are after you are Russian mafia—arms dealers. I have no idea how the CIA got caught up in their mess, but you shot and killed Adler, and so far it’s a dead end. The Berlin police are taking the lead on this, and it’s out of our jurisdiction.”
“How many did I kill?”
It's Always Been You Page 3
