by Rachel Grant
She closed her eyes. After a long moment, she opened them and said, “Okay. This is what I want. To shower together—not necessarily sex. Just…exploring. Comfort. Sex if we feel like it in the moment. Then I want to eat dinner in bed as we watch Monday Night Football. I don’t even care who’s playing. I just want to watch a mindless game and drink beer and feel safe with the man I love.”
Sounded like his perfect evening. “You like football?”
“I love football. Like I said, I don’t even care who’s playing, but my favorite team is Baltimore. I used to like Washington, but I really can’t get over the racist name.”
“How did I not know this? I have season tickets to Ravens games. I give them to my sister or Keith when I’m traveling.”
“I suppose this is a bad time to admit I’m only seducing you for your season tickets.”
He laughed. “I don’t care. As long as you seduce me. A Ravens fan.” He shook his head. “You might be my perfect woman.” He glanced at his watch. “Okay, we’ve got about ninety minutes until kickoff. Plenty of time to shower and play and then order dinner.”
Hazel gave him a wicked smile. “I think we should place a bet on the game. Every time your team scores, so do you.”
He laughed. “I’m not sure if I should hope for a high-scoring game or not.” Then he grinned. “Then again, we’ve got battery-powered backup if it’s a blowout.”
She licked her lips. “I think I’m going to like watching football with you.”
“And the guys are going to start to wonder why I don’t want to watch games with them anymore.”
36
The next three days had a strange combination of whirlwind and glacial pacing. Hazel and Isabel met with the FBI at the reservoir, and the feds began the process of getting a warrant to drain the lake again, this time bringing it even lower to fully expose the bed in an attempt to gather as many of the remains as possible.
Isabel suggested they screen the materials that had been pumped to the settlement pond in hopes of recovering a chip or other evidence, and a Talon & Drake vacuum truck was brought in to pump up the materials and deliver it to an area where it could be screened and sorted.
Hazel had done her share of screening to look for bone fragments, and she didn’t envy whoever would be tasked with sorting such a massive volume of materials. But the idea that an implant might be recovered provided hope.
Chase was hospitalized under guard as doctors tried to determine how to safely remove the implant. Information on his condition was scant, but she took hope from learning he’d woken up several times—he wasn’t in a coma—but was disoriented, and stress and panic caused his heart rate to spike. Considering his heart had stopped during an infrasound attack three years ago, doctors had opted to sedate him rather than risk another cardiac arrest.
Wednesday was a quiet day. Hazel spent the day in the basement lab, writing up her analysis of the bones. She submitted her report to the FBI late in the evening. She needed to write up her notes while everything was fresh in her mind, as this could become the foundation of the case against Sheriff Taylor, if evidence was found to connect him to the missing persons. If the case went to trial, odds were she’d be called to testify.
Thursday morning began normally. Or as normal as living with Sean in the Virginia compound could be. She woke to kisses and lovemaking followed by breakfast delivered by support staff.
Hazel could get used to this lifestyle, even if Sean’s suite only had tiny, bulletproof windows. The lighting was high quality and mimicked sunlight as much as possible. The food was healthy and delicious, and she didn’t have to cook or wash dishes. And there was Sean, at her beck and call twenty-four seven.
This was her idea of paradise.
She’d dreamed of bones in the night, but the normal kind of dream that came after an intensive day staring at photos and virtual models. The dreams were neither good nor bad. Just her subconscious continuing the work of the day.
They’d taken to meeting in the conference room at ten in the morning for an update. Hazel entered the room, feeling relaxed and a bit more dreamy than she had any right to feel considering how dangerous the situation had been just a few days ago.
She poured a cup of coffee from the ready pot and took a cherry Danish from the platter of pastries, then sat in her usual seat at the table, startled to realize Alec was the only person in the large room. Isabel and Keith should be here, while Alec should not. He’d planned to call in to today’s meeting from his office in the Senate.
His expression was tense. Angry. Concerned.
She set down the pastry that was halfway to her lips, her stomach suddenly sour. “Alec? What’s wrong?”
Sean set his coffee on the table next to her, but didn’t take a seat. “Something happen to Chase?”
Alec stood. He picked up his tablet and circled the table to Hazel’s side. “There is something you need to see. I didn’t want to tell you on the phone. I’m sorry.”
He set the tablet on the table. On the screen was the Voigt Forum banner with the day’s date. The headline said: Senator Ravissant Harbors Known Spy.
She read the subheading and cursed, but it wasn’t the worst thing in the world. Apparently, they were accusing her of spying for Ukraine against Russia. “That sucks, but it will be more of a problem for ICMP than for me.”
“There’s more.”
She reached out to scroll down and realized her fingers were shaking. But really, what could Voigt Forum do to her? It was a white nationalist propaganda site. Everyone knew it was crazy-pants bullshit.
The article attacked her integrity and her work. Not surprisingly, they claimed her testimony in a hate crime trial three years before had been false. Standard stuff for Voigt Forum from what she’d heard. She didn’t read it and didn’t know anyone who did besides Alec.
She kept scrolling down, and there was a photo of her with Sean at the rally last Friday. And that…was where it started to get ugly. They attacked Sean’s service in the Navy. Lied about his discharge status and implied he left after being investigated for selling arms to the enemy. It was suggested that Alec and Raptor orchestrated a cover-up, helping Sean to avoid prosecution.
The words were ugly, but they were easily refuted lies. She squeezed Sean’s hand before scrolling further.
She felt a sucker punch at seeing the photo of her and Sean kissing in front of the trail marker. Their first kiss, and Voigt Forum published it with a caption calling her a race traitor and Sean a criminal.
It was vile.
“They must’ve hacked Trina’s or Sean’s phone to get the photo,” Hazel said, her voice thin. But then, she could barely breathe.
“Either that, or Chase got Trina’s phone. I’m sorry,” Alec repeated, then he flicked the screen to bring the final photo into view.
Hazel’s hands were on the tree trunk, Sean’s face buried in her neck, and he pressed against her from behind, his visible hand cupping her breast under the halter of her dress. The photo cut off at the hipline, but it was obvious what they were doing in the forest.
Her vision tunneled. She couldn’t breathe.
A photo of the first time she’d made love with Sean had been posted on a white nationalist website. They’d taken a sacred memory and branded it with their ugly hate.
The violation tasted like copper. Or maybe she’d bit her tongue.
She stood abruptly, spilling her coffee over the tablet. The coffee scalded her, or the mug cut her hand. She wasn’t sure. There was just a sensation that wasn’t pleasant.
She cradled her hand to her chest and tried to take in air. Nothing came. She kicked at the chair that trapped her next to the table.
Arms came for her, but she shoved them away. She needed air. She needed out. She twisted for the door, dodging grabbing arms to lunge for it. Her shoulder slammed into something, causing her to spin. Or maybe her vision was spinning. Her knees gave out. Arms locked around her as the world went black.
3
7
“She didn’t hit her head,” Sean said to Rav as he scooped Hazel in his arms. “I think she passed out. Like she did in the lake.”
“I’m sorry, Sean. But she—you both—needed to know.”
Sean was already in the hall, heading for the clinic. “They couldn’t get to her physically, so they went for the mental attack.” He adjusted Hazel’s position and noticed her hand was bleeding. Probably from when she’d smashed the coffee mug into the tablet. “Did Chase take the photo, or was someone else in the forest with us that night?”
“I think it was Chase. We’re searching his quarters and Isabel’s Prius again for another phone or a camera. But it could have been tossed from the car on the drive back after he sent it to Voigt. We’ll probably never find it.”
Sean looked at Hazel’s pale face. He shouldn’t have screwed her against the tree that night, but he didn’t want to regret the memory. Didn’t want to share it with the world. It was between him and Hazel. Fantasy fulfillment that had been his first step into embracing what he could have with her.
He sure as hell didn’t know what to say to his boss. He should have been protecting her in the forest that night; instead, he’d taken her against a tree.
“I’m sorry.” There really wasn’t much he could say beyond that.
“Don’t. It was my bright idea to put you in that situation, and I do remember what it’s like to fall in love. I just hate that Voigt has stolen something precious from you. That it was probably Chase who did it.”
They were halfway to the clinic when Hazel’s eyes fluttered open. She groaned and clutched her injured hand to her chest.
Sean stopped midstride. “Sweetheart. Speak to me. You hurting anywhere besides your hand?”
She shook her head. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I—I—couldn’t breathe.”
“I know. I think it was the same kind of panic you had in the lake. After you freaked out, you sort of…buckled.”
“What happened to my hand? It’s all a blur.”
“You took your coffee mug and slammed it into Rav’s tablet.”
“Well, that’s not dramatic or anything,” she said under her breath. She tilted her head to Rav. “Sorry.”
He shrugged. “You did what I want to do every time I visit Voigt Forum. I’m actually a little jealous. But glad it wasn’t my laptop.”
“We need to have a medic look at your hand,” Sean said and resumed walking.
She didn’t even argue. She just tucked her head against his shoulder and relaxed into his hold.
The medic cleaned her wounds and glued the deepest cut together—same as Sean had done with her foot a week and a half ago—and bandaged the smaller ones. The coffee hadn’t been hot enough to scald, thankfully.
“I sure did show that tablet who was boss.”
“Too bad it bit you back,” the medic said. “I’m concerned about you blacking out. You say that was the second time in ten days?”
“I’ve been having panic attacks.”
“But…fainting is caused by a sudden drop in blood pressure, while panic attacks tend to drive blood pressure up. As far as I know, fainting during a panic attack is rare.”
That had never crossed Sean’s mind, but then he wasn’t a medic or a psychotherapist. “What did Dr. Parks say about that?”
“She said the same thing. But she also pointed out my panic attacks aren’t random. They don’t usually come out of the blue. There’s a trigger. Similar to how fainting can have a trigger—whether it’s seeing blood or hearing bad news or seeing something shocking. I think that qualifies today.”
“You’re scheduled to see Dr. Parks on Monday, right?” Rav asked.
“Yes.”
“Call her. See if she can fit you in today.”
“I’m pretty sure she’s booked, but I’ll call.”
Rav nodded and stood. “I need to get back to the city.” He kissed Hazel on the forehead and left the clinic.
Sean took Hazel back to their shared quarters. After leaving a message for her psychotherapist, trying to eat, and pacing, she ended up on his lap. He held her as she vented her pain at having their most intimate moment shared on a hate group’s website.
“We could sue them for publishing the photo. There are laws against posting sex photos online without permission.”
“You know that’s what they want,” she said. “There would be a media circus, and we would be at the center of it. I want our relationship to be…ours. I don’t want to give them another piece of us to exploit.”
He agreed. “I hate that people are going to look at that photo and either go into a racist rage or get turned on—probably both—but here’s how I plan to deal with it. It captured a moment that was private. Intimate. Ours. We’re the only two people who know what was going on in our heads. They might think they can guess. But it’s not their moment, and they can’t have it. I look at that photo and I see the sexiest woman I know, making a face that makes me rock-hard. Because it was me, inside you, that triggered that look on your face. That’s what you looked like when I claimed you. When I made you mine for the first time. When you took me deep and I became yours. You were beautiful in the moonlight as you gave yourself to me. I’m going to pull those memories in. Hold them precious.” He nibbled at her neck. “What I’m saying is—and I’m hoping this won’t upset you—on one level, the photo turned me on. All I can do is claim that part and reject the rest.”
She rubbed her forehead into his neck. “You did look pretty hot. With your mouth on my neck and your hand on my breast. I close my eyes, and I remember how your hand felt. How you felt. The sharp bark cutting into my palms.”
He let out a breath of relief. She would’ve had every right to fly into a rage at the idea of the photo being titillating. But it was Hazel. He could be outraged, shocked, and horrified, but he would always find her beautiful, especially when he was giving her what they both had so desperately needed.
Her phone chimed, and she leaned forward to grab it from the coffee table. “Dr. Parks. She can see me in an hour.”
“I guess it’s time to venture out into the world, then. You up for it?”
“As I’ll ever be. It helps to know that Voigt Forum’s audience is generally the card-carrying-KKK type. Anyone who gives me funny looks or says anything will be telling me exactly who they are.”
“I’ve always found it easier to deal with the blatant racists than the ones who pretend they’re not.”
“I’ve never really thought about how prevalent racism is. How I don’t see it because I’m white and don’t experience it.”
“You’re one half of an interracial couple now. You’re going to start experiencing it firsthand.”
“Voigt Forum is exhibit A. I hate how blind I’ve been to the harm sites like that do. I’ve dealt with their existence by avoiding the site. As if that’s a solution.”
He shrugged. “Pointing out their bullshit only drives traffic their way. In this instance, ignoring might be the only thing to do.”
“I still can’t believe a senator associated with Voigt could be elected to the Senate, but that’s what racist election laws deliver. Black people stripped of their voting rights and a white supremacist in the Senate.” She climbed from his lap. “After my doctor appointment, let’s go to their DC office and make out on the sidewalk in front.”
He laughed. “Now you’re trying to get me fired. You aren’t going anywhere near Voigt’s offices. You do realize the people who tried to burn us out of Chase’s cabin were probably from Voigt, right?”
“But I’ll have a badass bodyguard to protect me.”
He shook his head as he stood. “How about I take you out for a fancy dinner in the city instead?”
Her eyes widened with excitement. “It will be our first date!”
“I thought the wedding was our first date.”
“No way. Doesn’t count. I want our first date to be at a restaurant.”
He grinned a
nd pulled her to him. “Okay, then. It’s our first date.” He cupped the back of her head so she looked up at him. “You know what I want to do on our first date?”
“What?” Her voice was a little breathless. Excited. Happy.
He felt a male pride at being able to bring that out of her after the shock she’d had this morning. “I think our first date is the perfect time to start experimenting with the bondage kit.”
Her eyes widened, then flared with heat. She grinned and said, “You’re going to let me tie you up?” She pumped her fist. “Yes!”
He laughed. For her, anything.
“I want to sit in on the therapy session,” Sean said as he drove to the city. “Any objections?”
“I don’t have any, but I think Dr. Parks will. She’ll say my answers will be different because you’re there and we’re involved. And she wouldn’t be wrong. I might subconsciously try to impress you. Or edit my answers to avoid upsetting you.”
“It’s not your answers I want to hear. It’s Dr. Parks. She was Isabel’s and Chase’s doctor when she was with the CIA, and she kept them on when she began her private practice. She was pretty much the only doctor they could see, considering she already knew all the classified details of what happened in Alaska.”
“Yeah. Isabel is the one who referred me to her. She loves her. Says she was a huge help after what happened in Alaska. Iz was relieved she could continue seeing her when she went into private practice.”
“And she might be great, but Chase continued with her too, and I’m wondering how she missed the signs that he was being tested on again.”
Hazel considered the statement. Sean had a point. “It’s possible Chase hasn’t been in to see her in a while. But regardless, I’m sure the FBI is looking at that. They’ve probably interviewed her already.”
“Will you agree to let me sit in?”
“Sure. But I doubt she’ll allow it, and she might get suspicious if we insist.” She frowned. “God. Dr. Parks. She’s the person I’m supposed to be able to tell everything.”
