Makenna's Trust: Titan Security Series #3

by Cynthia P. O’Neill

  After everything, I admitted, “I did call to see if you were still at our apartment.” This seemed to pique his interest. “Travis, our neighbor across the hall, told me you’d moved out a couple days earlier and were headed here to New York City to start your new job. At that point, I’d realized that my life was completely changed, that you’d moved on and I was left to pick up the pieces. That’s when I decided to reinvent myself, but didn’t quite know how, until I saw a commercial for the Air Force, which reminded me of Uncle Jesse and how proud my grandfather was of his eldest son. So that’s why I signed up, to escape everything and rebuild myself from scratch.

  “I figured the military would push me to my limits to discover just how tough I could be. At that point, I wanted to learn anything dangerous, because I didn’t really care whether I lived or not. I figured if I did, then I was meant for bigger and better things here on Earth. And if I didn’t, I’d at least be reunited with our child in heaven.”

  My shoulders sagged as I shook my head. “I guess my work here isn’t done.”

  Marcus’s voice cracked, full of emotion, as he spoke. “We”—he motioned between the two of us—“were never too late. My cell phone number never changed. I put off starting this job for a month because I searched high and low for you, and failed. I only left because I couldn’t afford to give up the offer, especially when my dad decided I was no longer part of his family, all because I wanted to follow you here.”

  His dad turned his back on him? I hadn’t heard anything, but then again, I didn’t want to know much about anyone at that point in my life.

  He ran both hands through his hair and pulled at it. “I would have welcomed you back with open arms. I could’ve been there for you. If only you had talked to me. And what did you mean when you said you’d seen something that had upset you? I need to understand all this.”

  I couldn’t take anymore of this. Sure I had just as many questions as he did, but handling any more of this conversation would only cause my nightmares to flare back up. I could already feel the signs of an anxiety attack rising closer to the surface. If he kept pushing, it was sure to hit, and I’d be pulled from this assignment. It was all I could do to keep my hands at a minimal shake. So I ended the conversation with the only way I knew I’d get a reprieve: with a safeword. “Honeydew.”

  “What?”

  I had to repeat myself. “Honeydew. I can’t take any more of this back and forth.” Marcus was about to open his mouth to argue, but I cut him off. “I’m not saying we can’t pick up the conversation at a later time, but for now I’m done. You’ve reached my limit on what I can handle.”

  Marcus picked up my half-eaten plate of spaghetti and headed toward the kitchen. “Would you like me to reheat this or save it for later?”

  The thought of food had my stomach turning. I’ve never been able to eat when I’m stressed out. “Thank you for the lovely meal, but toss it.”

  “Okay. I’ll clean up the kitchen and leave you to your work,” he muttered.

  Marcus had always been one that needed immediate answers to his questions or he couldn’t rest. He’d have to deal with my timeline now. I’d worked hard to lock in my feelings and compartmentalize my unresolved issues, and never wanted to revisit them until now. I needed to get him to back off without alerting him that something was wrong. I couldn’t let the nightmares resurface.

  I felt drained from the lack of sleep and the emotional roller coaster I’d been forced to relive. How I had enough energy left in me to carry out the rest of my tasks, I didn’t know. I guess that’s why Marcus slipped another iced mocha coffee to me at the table.

  He busied himself in the kitchen, cleaning up the remains of a late lunch and prepping for dinner. I stayed busy on the computer, sending reports and updates to Rick at Titan’s headquarters in Orlando.

  The afternoon slipped by without much notice. Some of Titan Security’s local crew arrived to install a special reflective film on all the windows. Marcus fought the issue vehemently, citing there was no need for them, so I pulled him over to the window—after first using the sniper scope to see if I could see anything on the tops of any nearby buildings—and explained how anyone located on the roof of a taller building could easily take aim and shoot him.

  “These windows are double-paned. How can anything from that distance penetrate the glass?” he scoffed. “You’re destroying my beautiful view of the city. Anyone who wants to see in will still be able to see shadows moving about, so how does this keep me safe?”

  I quickly learned to never argue with a client when it came to the installation of the protective window film. It was easier to pull up a demonstration on the computer, one we’d simulated in our Titan offices for just such disagreements.

  Pulling up the file on my laptop, I opened a folder and pressed play. It showed how a powerful rifle, with the right ammunition, could penetrate a window and easily kill the intended target. The protective film would give the appearance to the outside eye that no one was home. They wouldn’t even see the notion of a shadow. However, the person inside could easily see out.

  Marcus nodded, seeming to accept the answer, but he still persisted, asking, “Why not just cover the windows with blackout curtains? At least that would be temporary, whereas this seems more permanent.”

  Gary Parkerson, the project lead on Titan instillations in the New York area, was getting exasperated with Marcus’s questions. He kept looking at his watch and pointing, alluding to the time that had elapsed while I tried to convince Marcus that this was the best thing.

  I gave Gary the go ahead before returning my focus to Marcus. “Blackout curtains are temporary, but they don’t protect against thermal scopes.”

  “Thermal what?” He questioned.

  I took my rifle off the dining table and popped the scope off of the top, replacing it with one that was inside the bag. After making sure the ammunition was removed, I held the rifle out to Marcus, who hesitated at first. “Just look through the viewer and tell me what you see.”

  He seemed taken aback by the various colors that were swimming right in front of his eyes. “There’s a lot of color. Anytime anyone moves, the color seems to go with the individual. That’s the heat your body is putting out. This is freaky. Isn’t that how some predatory animals hunt in the wild.”

  I nodded in agreement. “I can locate a target and take them out with blackout curtains. The curtains keep light out, but I can still get a subtle read on a person’s heat signature. The protective window treatment was created to disrupt the emission of heat signatures. At best, someone can’t get a lock on a target. At worst, it makes it look like there are people everywhere. It is a new technology Titan is working on, but we’ve already had positive tests in the field.”

  He looked at me like I had two heads growing out of my body. Marcus leaned into me as he passed back the rifle and whispered, “Aren’t you worried the FBI will know about the protective film? I noticed you hadn’t activated the scrambler.”

  It was nice to see he hadn’t changed a bit, putting the needs and concerns of others before his own. Why did I ever leave this guy? And why did fate have to be so cruel as to put us back in each other’s lives?

  I shook my head, then explained in hushed tones, “The FBI is working on something similar. We’ve actually shared ideas for this product in order to get it to this stage of production.”

  While Titan worked on the windows, I motioned for Marcus to join me at the table, handing him a pad and a pen. “I need you to do a few things for me. First, I need you to write down anyone you can think of who might have a vendetta against you or would want to see harm come to you. I want you to include those who have acted a little off toward you prior to your arrest. Second, you’ll need to review the timeline the investment deals went down to see if you have any credible alibis that would place you elsewhere at the time the transactions occurred. And lastly, I’ll need you to review the list of clients you were supposed to have scammed and see if anyo
ne rings a bell.”

  Marcus took a step toward me, ready to argue. “That’ll take forever. How am I supposed to check things when you’ve told me I can’t look into files that were sent to me on my laptop? Am I supposed to just pull the information out of my ass?”

  Okay, now he was getting snarky, and I was fighting off sleep and slowly losing the battle. I picked up a folder and threw it across the table at him. “Here’s a start. You’ll find detailed times and dates of all the transactions when the Ponzi scheme occurred. See if there are any dates or times where you were out of the office, on another floor of work, and so on. I just need something to work with, since we’ve done pretty much everything we can handle for today.”

  I pushed the new laptop and phone toward Marcus. “Do what you can on paper. If you need me to look into specifics online, let me know what I’m looking for and where I’ll find it. That can be our starting point tomorrow.”

  It was obvious he was overwhelmed. “We don’t have a lot of time to clear your name. I know this has been a day full of changes and reveals. The lawyer should be giving us a call sometime tomorrow. Beyond that, we’ll take each day as it comes, figure out if there are any threats against you, and start going through this case. We’ll peel away the outer shell—much like an orange—and then start segmenting everything into groups until we’ve isolated answers to the questions who, what, when, and why.”

  Marcus’s gaze locked on mine. His mouth opened like he wanted to ask a question, but he stopped short when Gary walked up and placed a hand on my shoulder. Marcus’s face transformed to one of predator. He literally emitted a low growl from the back of his throat, causing Gary to remove his hand quickly. What the hell was that all about?

  Gary was able to have the crew install the film on all but one small window in Marcus’s bedroom, having run out of product. “It’ll take a day or two to receive shipment of new window treatment. If there’s nothing else you need from us, we’ll be out of here.”

  “Thanks, Gary. I’ll just have to switch rooms with Marcus for a few days until the remaining window is complete. Do you think you and the boys could help me move some things around?”

  Marcus was quick to counter. “I’m not giving up my room. There is no danger, and I’m tired of all the changes we’ve made today. This is too much, too quickly.”

  I put my hand on Marcus’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “This is only temporary. Your safety means everything to me. If there is no threat, then everything should be fine, but you are sleeping in the guest room, and I’ll take your room until I’m assured that room is safe.”

  I quickly turned toward the stairs and motioned for Gary and his crew to help me move some things around. Within minutes we had most of Marcus’s clothes and bath essentials switched to the other room. I didn’t relish the idea of sleeping in his bed, as breathing in his musky scent made my mind turn to sinful thoughts. I couldn’t let my guard down.

  Marcus was still pitching a fit about his bedroom reassignment when we returned downstairs. But he soon got over it when I whispered, “Don’t you want me to sleep in your bed?” That seemed to be enough to shut him up.

  With Gary and the crew long gone, I continued working on all the details I could with a preliminary report for Rick. Meanwhile, Marcus bounced between cooking dinner in the kitchen and working on the list I’d asked him to come up with. It was nice having a small modicum of quiet.

  Kyle and Spencer took off a short time later, but not before introducing me to Tyler and Dane, the nighttime FBI crew. They were both former Marines, trained in combat, having served on special forces, and Dane had medic training, which was always a plus.

  Marcus seemed to be a bit territorial when it came to me talking with other guys. He knew I had a job to do. I needed to gain the trust of the FBI stationed to watch Marcus and, hopefully, pick their minds as to why some things fell through the cracks on their end. Was it one of them causing the slipups or was someone else causing damage to Marcus’s case?

  A few hours later I wished I’d had that nap, or a gallon of coffee to keep me awake. My eyes barely focused on the screen as I sent my report to Rick and waited for confirmation that he received it.

  Darkness started to surround the outside margins of my eyes and soon beckoned me toward sleep . . .

  I kept myself busy, just to appease Makenna, working on the list of potential suspects, referencing timelines that didn’t add up, along with anything else I could possibly think of to clear my name. Sadly, it was a short list. I just hoped a good night’s sleep and having an extra set of eyes to look into things would help me.

  I kept my head down, looking at a hard copy of my personal calendar for appointments, events, and so forth, and started finding instances I’d been out of the office at the time a couple of the illegal transactions occurred. I was about to write them down, when the table shook from a small thud, followed by a soft snore.

  To no surprise, I found Makenna slouched down on the table, fast asleep. I’d tried to get her to wrap things up earlier, only to have been met with excuses. She’d said she needed to file a preliminary report with Rick, but I think she was stalling, not wanting to go to sleep. I don’t know why there was so much reluctance.

  I powered down my computer before taking it up to the guest bedroom and storing it and my notes in the bedside table. I made sure my footsteps were soft and wouldn’t wake Makenna as I quickly changed into a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt.

  Sneaking a peek into my bedroom, I noticed she had similar attire to sleep in, but of the female persuasion. At least I didn’t have to go rummaging through her luggage to see what I could come up with for her to wear. The idea of getting her naked or even in one of my oversized T-shirts and nothing else did have its appeal.

  Get your head out of the gutter, man. She needs a restful sleep. She’s been burning the candle at both ends, between your case and the one before. Leave her be for now and focus your romantic pursuits another day. My mind was right. I either needed to wake Makenna up enough to get into bed on her own or assist her in getting there. My dick might be ready to get reacquainted with her body, but her health and well-being were priority.

  Moving softly and swiftly, I crept downstairs to where she sat, unmoved from where I’d left her. “Kenna,” I whispered against her ear as I tried to shake her shoulders. No response. “Kenna, it’s time to go to bed, love.”

  She was definitely tired. All I managed to get out of her was a pathetic, “Leave me alone; I’m sleeping.”

  Of course I couldn’t leave her where she was. I could only imagine the pain she’d have in her neck come morning. I had to ensure she had a restful slumber, so I bent down and maneuvered one of my hands under her legs and the other around her back, before lifting her up into my arms.

  “I missed you,” tumbled gently from her lips between the sounds of soft snores. Her arms seemed to find purchase around my neck as I headed up the stairs.

  I had the light from the guest room spilling out into the hallway and into my room, lighting it enough for me to see where I was going. Placing her gently on the bed, in a seated position, I held on to her as I slowly removed her jacket, cringing at the scar she wore proudly on her shoulder. I was thankful she’d removed her gun holster earlier, as I wasn’t a big fan of the weapons. With the jacket gone, I noticed her leather tank had a zipper in the back. I moved quickly to rid her of the restrictive item and soon realized she’d worn no bra. Grabbing her nightshirt, I quickly covered her to maintain her modesty.

  After gently lowering Makenna to the bed, I inched the zipper down on each boot and slowly pulled them from her feet. I thought she’d already brought enough weaponry into my place with Rick’s shipment, so to say I was shocked at what I found within the confines of the boots was the understatement of the century. The boots were lined with throwing stars, a couple of long knives, a pair of brass knuckles, a pair of handcuffs, and other items that could easily stop someone in their tracks. My woman was badass, an
d I didn’t know whether to be enamored with her or scared for my life.

  Her hips lifted slightly as I removed her pants. Somehow, even in sleep, she still trusted me, and that gave me hope that maybe we could work things out, just maybe.

  I bent down to kiss her gently atop her head as I pulled the covers up around her. “I still love you, Kenna. I never stopped.”

  My heart melted with her next words: “I love you too.”

  The desire to crawl into bed with her and pull her body flush with mine was overwhelming, but wrong. I wanted her to come to me on her terms, not mine, so I retreated to the guest room, begrudgingly, and went to bed alone.

  The night crept by slowly, and for some reason, I was restless and unable to sleep. I kept running the various scenarios over and over in my mind, thinking Kenna had blown things out of proportion by putting up the window tinting and moving me to a different room and all. Could someone really be out to destroy my life and me with it? The thought sent a chill down my spine.

  My mind began to drift between the realm of fog and being alert, when Makenna’s voice cried out, “No!”

  Moving automatically, I grabbed my phone and found myself barreling toward her room. I found her twisted up amongst the covers, tossing and turning from one side to the next, saying, “Stop. Don’t. No. You’re hurting . . . no.”

  The words kept repeating over and over but made no sense. I reached out to touch her, to shake her foot to get her to wake up, only to drop to the ground quickly to avoid being kicked in the nuts. Whatever dream she was having wasn’t pleasant, and I began to fear for her safety as well as my own.