Dangerously Broken (Aegis Group Lepta Team Book 4)

by Sidney Bristol

  Priscilla had struggled to make friends. It was her counselor’s idea to use her skills and knowledge to help her bridge the gap between herself and other girls on campus. She’d begun teaching self-defense as a way of reaching out.

  Those friends had helped her just as much as the therapy had. They’d pushed her to go to parties and social events. They’d dressed her up, introduced her to some good guys, but she’d never really done more than dabble in the dating arena. Men were either in competition with her or intimidated by her. Even the good ones that had all her friend’s stamp of approval.

  And then there was Brenden.

  She didn’t get that vibe from him. She didn’t get any vibe from him at all and that bugged her for some reason.

  What did her brain want?

  Her arms began to wobble. She extended them and Brenden took over, lifting the bar out of her hands and onto the cradle.

  “Done?” he asked.

  “Yeah.” She folded her hands across her stomach and took several deep breaths.

  Brenden began pulling the weights off. She kept watching him, waiting for something to happen. He had to know she was staring, and yet he didn’t flinch or look back or seem to care.

  He wasn’t conventionally attractive, but she’d never liked pretty boys. No, he was rougher. The scar on his chin spoke to that. His dark hair was mostly shaved on the sides and the top was just long enough to do something with. She was willing to bet money he just brushed it and left it.

  “How’d you cut your head?” she asked.

  “Last job.”

  “Last job...?”

  He paused standing over her, his eyes on hers and damn if she didn’t want him to keep looking at her.

  “What?” she asked when the silence had gone on a few moments too long.

  “Sorry.” He shook his head. “Disagreement with a guy who was holding our last client and his family against their will.”

  “Is it safe to imagine the other guy looks worse?” She sat up and turned.

  The corner of Brenden’s mouth twitched. “Yeah.”

  Priscilla wanted to see him smile. She thought she’d like that, but he didn’t strike her as the kind of guy who had much to smile about.

  Tomorrow he’d deliver her the headquarters in Chicago, then she probably wouldn’t see him again.

  What was it her best friend was always going on about?

  Living in the moment?

  Priscilla wasn’t good at that. Even now she did a lot of living in the past, thinking about how things could be different. But right now the future was awfully tempting.

  Her friend...

  “Shit,” she muttered, reality intruding on her budding idea.

  The momentary humor vanished off his face. “What?”

  She cringed. “Does anyone outside of work know about...?”

  “I don’t know.” He tilted his head, considering her unfinished question. “There was no mention of it in our briefing.”

  “I should call my parents.”

  “In the morning. It’s late.” Brenden braced his hand on the bench press. He spoke slowly. “I don’t think your family knows. If they did, Melody would be in communication with them. Given your history, we’d want to manage all aspects of your rescue.”

  “My history?” She stared up at him, body going still. He knew?

  Brenden winced then opened and closed his mouth. He braced his free hand on his hip then finally looked her in the eye. “It’s part of our standard intel gathering stage. We dig up everything we can on an asset so we know what we’re dealing with.”

  “And the fact I was kidnapped as a teenager was relevant?” She hated how her skin heated. Embarrassment warred with anger.

  “Yes,” he said without hesitation. “That combined with your training, teaching self-defense, your job, all of that influenced how we handled the situation.”

  Priscilla felt that in her gut, like a hundred pound weight just decimated her. The pain was distant, a bit numb, but she knew it was going to hurt like hell once she wrapped her head around it.

  From the moment she’d met Brenden, part of her had trusted him. Had it been orchestrated? Was he manipulating her? Was any of this real? Had they picked Brenden to send in there because they knew their shared experiences might help them manage her?

  5.

  THURSDAY. EMILIANO Rio, Rio de Janeiro, Brazil.

  Brenden could sense the danger building, but he didn’t know what he’d said to set Priscilla off. He was speaking without thinking. The longer he was around her, the less he considered his words. All he wanted to do was look at her.

  She stood, turned away from him and lifted a hand to push the fine, short hairs off her forehead.

  He should say something, shouldn’t he? But what?

  Brenden’s value to the team had never been dealing with assets. He didn’t have the gentle command of people like Melody. He couldn’t sweet talk them like Vaughn. Nolan and Riley cajoled and joked people into doing what they wanted. Few people questioned Grant’s authority. Brenden was the muscle. He did his job, he kept his head down, and did what needed to be done. Until today, that never included conversing with assets as an integral part of their op.

  “What the fuck?” Priscilla whirled to face him.

  He winced and remained where he was, hoping like hell she’d say something that would give him some insight.

  “You’re telling me everything up until now was organized? It was all fake?” Her voice rose and her eyes flashed. “Why you? Why were you the one picked to get kidnapped?”

  “Nothing was faked. I volunteered.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I didn’t want to risk the rest of my team. They don’t know what it’s like to be held like that.” Sure, there’d been some hairy situations over the years, but nothing like what he’d been through. “And I thought out of all of us, I’d understand you better.”

  “It was organized then.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

  “Priscilla, every aspect of our ops is organized. That’s how we save lives. What are you getting at? What’s wrong with being prepared?”

  She uncrossed her arms only to jab her finger against his chest. “Did you or did you not use what you knew about me to manipulate me back there?”

  “No.” Brenden wasn’t that adept with people to manipulate them. He was painfully straightforward at times.

  “How can I trust that answer?”

  He spread his hands and sighed, ready to be done with this line of questioning. He was just tired. “You’re either going to trust me or you aren’t. I don’t know what to say to make you believe me. I don’t have any interest in head games. There was a job to do. I was the best one to do it. End of story.”

  They stared at each other, her looking up at him with hazel eyes that looked like they were on fire. This whole thing was starting to piss him off.

  “What’s the real problem, Priscilla? Why chase me down here like this? What’s really bugging you?” Because everything else she’d taken issue with didn’t feel like a reason.

  “I trusted you,” she said.

  Past tense.

  She didn’t trust him now.

  He knew how fragile trust could be.

  At the end of the day, he’d live with it because she was going home to her family.

  “I trusted you and I don’t do that very often.” She crossed her arms over her chest, her face scrunched up.

  It was a very unsure pose for someone who’d struck him as a confident person. She was a ball-buster, more suited to kicking ass and taking names than second guessing herself. That wasn’t her nature.

  “Let’s back up.” Brenden sat on the recumbent bicycle seat next to the bench press.

  She remained standing right where she was, staring at the spot he’d vacated, her brow furrowed. It wasn’t the same face she’d made back in their cage of a cell, but it was close. She kept expecting one thing and got another.

  Priscil
la wanted to find firm ground. That was all she wanted. And from her view they kept changing things on her.

  “What have I done to break your trust?” he asked, determined to lay it all out for her and let her make up her own mind about him, the op, the whole thing.

  “I thought you were someone you weren’t. You didn’t tell me what you were really there to do.”

  “I guess technically you’re right. I’m sorry I didn’t see a better way out of the situation.” Brenden still didn’t think he’d made a wrong call.

  At the end of the day it shouldn’t matter what Priscilla thought about him so long as she was alive and going home. So why did he want to regain that trust?

  “Am I being petty? Is there something wrong with how I’m seeing this?” Her shoulders slumped.

  “I don’t think anyone but you can make that decision,” he said slowly, trying to be careful about his words. Talking to Priscilla was full of landmines he hadn’t known he needed to dodge. He’d been too blinded by his physical interest in her to realize the danger he’d put himself in.

  “What do you think?” She met his gaze and expected an answer.

  “I think that question is a trap,” he said.

  “No. Be honest with me.” She sat down on the bench press facing him.

  Fuck. How did he get out of this one?

  If he were any of the other guys he’d distract her with a joke or something funny. But he wasn’t them. All he could do was answer truthfully and hope she saw all sides.

  “Clearly trust is very important to you. I can’t tell you who to trust or if you’re wrong. I just can’t. What I can tell you is that doing my job, bringing people home safe, that’s important to me. I’m always going to make the call that protects the lives I’ve been entrusted with and keeps my team safe. If I had to lie to you to, I’d do it if that meant delivering you to your family. I don’t want to lie to you. Let’s be very clear about that. Lies create situations like these, where we have to spend more time convincing you to work with us for your benefit. That said, if I had to lie? I’d do it. I wouldn’t lose any sleep over it.” Not that he slept much. It might keep him awake, but he’d live with it.

  She frowned at him and her brows drew down.

  Yeah, he was losing her. Not that he’d truly had her except for those brief moments when he was fairly certain they’d bordered on flirting while sitting on that thin mattress.

  Priscilla was something else. He’d been drawn to her story and the picture of a woman with eyes like his. Haunted eyes that had a past not many could understand. When he’d volunteered, he’d thought it would be a simple job. His interest in her would be professional, because that’s how it always was with him.

  And then he’d met her.

  Brenden didn’t understand most women. He’d given up going out with the other guys. Though he had a healthy sexual appetite, he just couldn’t find interest in the type of women the guys attracted for more than a few hours. And he wanted more than that, but he was too fucked up.

  After he’d gotten a chance to catch his breath and really look at Priscilla, he’d found himself admiring her. Under the sweat and dirt and dried blood was a remarkably resilient woman. She was physically beautiful, sure. Especially right now with the too tight black T-shirt showing off her curves and the defined muscle of her shoulders and arms. Even the light sheen of sweat making her skin glow was sexy to him. But it was something else about her, something intangible, that he found more alluring.

  He wanted to touch her. Maybe even hold her.

  Priscilla sighed and her lips twisted up into a rueful smile that brightened her eyes a bit. “You just told me you’d lie to me and for some reason I like you more.”

  Women.

  He didn’t understand them one bit.

  “Maybe it’s time to hit the hay? It’s been a long couple of days, I’m sure.” He doubted he’d sleep, but she should at least try.

  Her lips twitched and a glimmer of something sparkled in her eyes. “That’s an awfully forward invitation.”

  Brenden opened his mouth, but no words came out. His brain totally shut down while his blood rushed south.

  She laughed, a throaty amused sound he liked a hell of a lot better than her inquisition from earlier. “Here I thought you’d lead with the tub angle.”

  He cleared his throat. No, he recalled that conversation very well. He should extract himself from this conversation before all of his blood was in his dick. “I’m sure your tub is much better than mine.”

  “Maybe. I haven’t seen yours.” She shrugged then glanced around the workout room. “I should do a proper warm up. You going to use the bike?”

  “Nope. It’s all you.”

  Brenden swallowed and got up. If it was just him, he’d stay down here another hour or maybe two. He couldn’t deny that he’d barely gotten started. But was it smart to continue whatever this was with Priscilla?

  He paused to consider the rest of the equipment in the room before deciding to make use of the kettle bells. Crossing to the open mat he realized he had a perfect view of her in the mirror and it was tempting to watch her, but he knew down that path lay danger. Instead he stared at the floor. The weights. Himself. Anything to keep his mind in check.

  There were no rules against relationships with clients. Hell, it seemed like half the guys were either dating or married to women they’d met in the field or on the job. But Brenden hadn’t crossed that line. Ever. It just didn’t seem like a good idea. They met people on the worst day of their lives. It formed intense bonds that for some people morphed into love.

  Brenden had always thought it was a bad idea to be anything except professional with clients. He was damaged on the inside in ways that would probably never fully heal. He wasn’t a work in progress. He was who he was and asking anyone to change themselves to deal with him wasn’t fair. But every now and then he saw how happy some of his team was, like Riley and Erin, and he wanted that.

  Logic told Brenden that he was the last person Priscilla needed. They might understand each other. She would probably get him better than another woman. But he would never be enough.

  The facts were the facts.

  Brenden was a good operative.

  He was shitty at everything else.

  The tunnel vision was working. He blocked out the rest of the room to the point he barely registered Priscilla’s presence. He knew she was there and that she’d changed machines, but he didn’t look at her.

  He put the kettlebells back then stripped off his soaked shirt before switching to a bar to do pull ups.

  Brenden was mentally counting off his second rep when he realized the room had gone quiet. He blinked, bringing the space into focus and found that Priscilla had stopped. She stood holding a bottle of water from the fridge unabashedly watching him. The hem of her shirt was tucked up under her bra, giving him a view of her own toned stomach.

  For a split second he stopped, hanging by his hands, trying to figure out why.

  Did it matter?

  He lifted his body once more, watching her now.

  This wasn’t like the puzzling things out stare. She wasn’t looking for how pieces fit or trying to turn him one way or the other to better understand the situation or herself.

  It also wasn’t the angry glare where she was seeing someone or something else in his stead.

  And the way she was looking at him held no suspicion like when they’d first met and she’d been wary of him.

  No, this was something else. Something he hadn’t seen in a while.

  Interest. In him. Physically.

  Did she like what she saw?

  That made him pause. An answering awareness unfurled inside of him and he tightened his arms, lifting himself up slowly while their eyes remained locked.

  Tangling with Priscilla was a dangerous idea. She was a woman in full command of herself. He was willing to bet she knew what she wanted and how. There would be no shyness, no need to coax and be tender. No, a wo
man like her knew what she liked.

  Brenden shut down those thoughts before they went further. He did not need to sport an erection now.

  He shouldn’t care. It didn’t matter if she was attracted to him. Nothing good would come from tangling with her. And yet he wanted to know. It had been a long time since a woman had attracted him both physically and mentally.

  “When does it stop being a workout and become showing off?” She tilted the bottle up and drank.

  Brenden didn’t have an answer or any idea how to reply. What blood wasn’t absolutely necessary for vital operations was heading south, leaving his brain sorely lacking decent oxygen supply, so he opted to keep going.

  Priscilla took another drink, her eyes never leaving him.

  Working out had become his standard method for dealing with both his insomnia and personal demons. If all the head doctors he’d ever seen couldn’t help him, the best solution was to physically exhaust himself. He was in better shape now than he’d been when he’d played football or during his entire career as a SEAL.

  “You know...” Priscilla ambled closer. Her lips were twisted up into a smile he wasn’t sure he should trust. “I thought you looked pretty damn good in a suit, but I’m beginning to think you look better out of it.”

  Brenden extended his arms, hanging from the bar, and watched her.

  Women didn’t notice him, not like this. Then again, most women weren’t Priscilla.

  If he let this continue, he wasn’t sure he would stop it.

  She came to stand directly in front of him. If he dropped to his feet, they’d only be six or so inches apart. Close enough to touch, to smell her, to make a mistake if he wasn’t careful. He had no idea what she was up to or where he stood with her, but he knew this was dangerous territory.

  “Want a drink?” She lifted her bottle and shook it a bit.

  So long as his hands were on the bars he was safely occupied. The moment he let go he didn’t know what he’d do.