by Cherrie Lynn
Guilt bit into him with surprising ferocity. He wasn’t doing this for Lena or even for Lindsey, and he damn sure wasn’t doing this because he was a fucking nice guy. She needed to get that straight in her head from the start. “Don’t thank me yet.”
“I’m so worried about her. My parents—we were later-in-life kids for them. They just celebrated their fortieth wedding anniversary. I haven’t even told them about this, because this news would worry them so much.”
Her delicate profile and downturned mouth were captivating, luring his eyes where they shouldn’t be going. “I really don’t get how two identical twin sisters could be so different.” In fact, he was suspicious as hell about it. And he needed to remember that, too. She made it hard to do so. “I mean, you seem pretty genuine.”
She looked at him incredulously. “I seem genuine?”
“Yeah, don’t get offended. You seem that way, but so did she. Look, I’ll check all this shit out as best I can. But I’m warning you, this had better not turn out to have some kind of blowback on me. It’s not all ringing true.”
“I’m just as much in the dark as you are about all of this. I didn’t ask for this. I don’t know why you were brought into it. I get that you probably don’t fully trust me. Well, I don’t trust you, either. You’re right, Lena and I have always been different. How we dress, how we act—I don’t exactly know where she came from. We look like the same person, but it ends there.”
Granted, he hadn’t often been around Lena, and hell, it had been a decade ago. But somehow every moment he had spent with her had become committed to memory after what she’d done to him. With her soft eyes, her caring nature, Lindsey couldn’t have been more opposite.
Or maybe she was just a damn good actress.
“I got her story,” he said, “now tell me yours.” He scrutinized her reaction, honing in on her body language.
She shrugged. “College. Work. And now this.”
“How is it at Denicorp?”
If he expected outrage, he didn’t get it, solidifying his earlier thought that she’d known he would creep on her. All he detected was a faint hardening around her pretty eyes. “Fine. I like it. I do some tech writing, too, if you must know.”
“I do know. I read some of it.”
“Then why ask me about my life, if you already know everything?”
“Because who we are online is not who we are offline.”
“I don’t think that’s true in all cases. I think I’m pretty much the same.”
“Really?”
She nodded. “Yes. Absolutely.”
“Do you have a boyfriend?”
Now she shifted uncomfortably. “No. As you well know if you saw the ‘single’ status on my Facebook profile.”
“Please. People change that status as often as they change clothes.”
“Again,” she said obstinately, “I don’t. And I won’t. Because I refuse to be like that. I’ll be ‘in a relationship’ when I’m actually in a relationship. When you looked at all my emails and messages, did you see any from a man?”
“You got me there. No nude pictures from you at all. So disappointing.”
“Speaking of things I would never do—” she said, glaring daggers at him while he laughed.
“I wouldn’t, either. That stuff never goes away.”
He couldn’t be mistaking it—was she blushing? And then there was absolutely no denying it, as her cheeks began to blaze bright red before his very eyes.
Okay, tone it down, asshole.
He ran a hand through his hair and stood. “Are you sure I can’t get you something to drink?”
“Water, please.” While he went to get it for her, she said across the distance, “I do have a phone number for Griffin. He asked for mine, but I made him give me his instead.”
“Awesome. Let’s see it.”
She pulled a crumpled receipt from her purse and handed it over while he passed her a glass of water. Her fingers were long and slender and unadorned. Her nails were short, bitten, and bare of any embellishment. He always liked to take note of people’s hands. They said a lot about character.
Lena… She’d had velociraptor nails. He remembered that because he’d imagined them ripping his back apart as he cracked UMass like a fucking idiot with his first hard-on. Of course, he never had that chance, and now he was fucking glad of it.
Never again. A lesson hard learned.
As he took a seat at his keyboard with the phone number, he sensed Lindsey move up behind him, no doubt anxious as to what he would uncover. His fingers flew over the keys while her scent teased vaguely at the edge of his senses, something warm and soft and lightly floral. Despite the distraction, he had a trace on the guy’s location within minutes. “He’s at this bar. Is that where you were?”
Lindsey leaned closer, staring at the map on the screen. Her hair was so long it fell down his arm. That’s where the scent was coming from. It filled his nostrils and intoxicated him. “Yes. I came straight here.”
“Hmm. Then either he’s still there or he powered down his phone there and hasn’t turned it on since.”
“Is there some reason why he would do that? How am I supposed to call him if I find out anything?”
“Maybe he doesn’t quite trust you, either.”
That made her straighten in a huff, but he found that he missed her nearness. “I haven’t done anything for all this mistrust. Jesus.”
He chuckled. “Get used to it. And it’s never occurred to you that someone could be doing all this to get to you?”
“That’s stupid, Jace. I mean, you really don’t understand how stupid it is. Who am I?”
Yeah, he didn’t quite believe it, either, he was just trying to cover all bases. Most likely, someone was doing this to get to him. And it might even be Lena herself, though why she would want to come back and destroy the pieces of him she’d left in her wake was beyond him. Lindsey had said it herself. Who was he? Why him, out of all the schmoes at MIT?
He turned his chair to face Lindsey directly, her troubled eyes following his movements as he crossed his arms. “Apparently we’ve accomplished jack shit today. I guess we wait for their next move.”
“Whose?”
“Whoever’s. Lena wanted you to find me. Well, you found me.”
“Should I do anything? At home? I hate even sitting in front of my computer now, afraid of who might be watching me.”
“Truthfully, Lindsey, I think you should carry on like everything is normal. Act like you don’t give a shit. Do your work, Christmas shop, demolish the skiddies, Meerkat.” His mouth tugged up in a grin despite himself, and she returned it shyly. “My associate appreciated your alias, by the way.”
She shrugged. “I’ve always loved Timon from The Lion King.”
“Aw, how sweet.”
“Don’t be fooled.”
“Ooh.” He leaned forward, lacing his fingers together between his knees, staring her in the eyes. “And here you’ve spent all this time trying to convince me that you’re the good sister, Lindsey.”
He saw her efforts to maintain an aloof composure and her stark failure to do so as color crept up into her cheeks again and she glanced away from him, shifting on her feet. Her split-second ability to turn bright red was fascinating. Just how deep could that color run?
“Not always,” she said, bringing him grudgingly back to the conversation.
“Name one bad thing you’ve done.”
Her gaze dropped to the floor. “Lying to my mother.”
“About Lena?”
Only then did she lift her eyes to his, the sadness like a weight there, and he thought he saw the beginnings of tears. “Yes.”
Oh, shit, no. He couldn’t have any crying females in his apartment. Standing, he took her gently by the shoulders, not letting her look away from
him this time. “Know this,” he said firmly, watching her lashes flutter as she blinked at him. “This is one of your better days. It’s only going to get worse. Save your tears for that day. Save them all.”
She’d been looking at him for reassurance, and he watched those hopes fall. That wasn’t what she wanted to hear, but it was what she must understand if this went sour. And it would. Missing CIA agents? Shit.
She drew a deep breath, her body relaxed, and finally she nodded. “Okay. I’m okay.”
“Good.”
The sudden wash of guilt was surprising to him, but Christ, she didn’t have anyone else to turn to. She was facing this all by herself, and who knew what might happen next? What if these assholes, whoever they were, struck out at her? Jace released her and ran a hand through his hair. He didn’t need to get this involved.
While he struggled internally with what to do, Lindsey watched him with her big green eyes. Kind, curious, unassuming eyes. Nothing like Lena’s sly, calculating snake eyes.
“What are you thinking?” she asked at last.
“Nothing for you to worry about yet. The first thing I want to do is go to your sister’s apartment. Have a look around there.”
Lindsey nodded eagerly. “I figured. Can we go now?”
“I’m sorry, but I can’t tonight.”
Her face fell. “If she’s really in trouble and I’m not doing anything—”
“You’re doing what you were told, and that’s all we have.” He sighed. “Look, I’m helping, okay? For now. I’ll spend all night following the leads you’ve given me. Tomorrow, we’ll take a look at her place first thing. Will that make you feel better?”
“I’d rather go tonight.”
“I get that, and I would if I could, but I have a prior commitment.”
He didn’t, actually, but there was something he needed to do, and he had to make sure he had access to do it.
Steeling himself against her disappointment, he saw her to the door. Then, without her knowing, he saw her to her car and into her building. Purely for investigative purposes, of course.
He had the bad feeling that she hadn’t been brought into this by accident. And he always trusted his gut. Well—usually. He’d seen what not trusting it had gotten him, at least.
He also feared she had no idea what she was in for.
Hell, for that matter, he didn’t, either.
Chapter Nine
Jace showed up at Lindsey’s apartment the next morning a full half hour earlier than he’d scheduled, leaving her panicked and having to dress while he patiently waited in her living room. She had to resist the urge to doll up, suddenly missing her sister intensely, since she had always been the siren.
In the end, frustrated, she settled on her usual practical winter garb of a sweater and jeans. Who the hell was she trying to impress, anyway? But his presence made her uncomfortably aware of how long it had been since a man was in her apartment.
The drive over to her twin’s building was tense and mostly silent, and Lindsey watched the snowy city pass by outside Jace’s window, speaking only to give him directions. He drove a new Dodge truck, so new the fumes from the carpet stung her eyes a little.
Once upon a time, years ago, she would have been thrilled to climb into a vehicle, any vehicle, with him. Maybe she still felt that way; she only wished the circumstances were different. She wished she could be anywhere else in the world at this moment, rather than right here, and for this reason. It was a terrible way to feel.
And the drive was entirely too short. A sense of dreadful déjà vu plagued her as she led him to Lena’s apartment and then inside. He took immediate control, flipping on the lights, surveying the room’s chaos with those calmly assessing eyes that seemed to miss no detail. She drew strength from that, somehow. His presence steadied her.
But being in this place, with her sister so close but so far away, sucked all the air out of her lungs.
“You good?” Jace asked, his gaze on her as he strode across the room to Lena’s computer.
Lindsey forced herself to nod before slipping out of her coat and unwinding her scarf from around her neck. It was a leopard print, Lena’s favorite pattern, and she’d given it to Lindsey as a gift some shared birthday long ago. Being a decidedly non-leopard-print-wearing person, Lindsey had buried it deep in a drawer. But now, wearing it made her feel closer to her twin.
Since she didn’t need Jace giving her another talk about holding it together, she forced steel into her spine and tried to block out the upsetting images around her. Now wasn’t the time for a breakdown. There was work to do.
“Someone was looking for something, don’t you think?” she asked, attempting to take in the damage with fresh, non-panicking eyes.
“Maybe. Maybe they just wanted to get your attention when you showed up. Like they knew you would.”
“That would seem to lead back to Griffin. He showed up when I was here.”
Jace leaned over Lena’s desk, disconnecting cables from the back of the system without comment.
“Are you taking that back to your place?” she asked.
“Yeah. You said you thought they were using her webcam. I’ll see what I can find.”
If she’d been brave enough, she could have tried to find something.
While he was occupied, she wandered into Lena’s bedroom, looking around to see if it appeared anyone had been here since she’d last left it. She saw nothing out of sorts—at least, nothing that hadn’t already been out of sorts.
Lena’s bed was in disarray, the comforter balled up at the foot, the sheets ripped back. Somehow, the sight of it was worse than anything else. Lena always made her bed. Ever since she was big enough to do it, she’d made her bed before school, and nothing had changed as the two of them aged. Lindsey had been the messy one.
She was in the middle of straightening the fitted sheet when Jace came into the room. “What are you doing?”
“I can’t stand seeing her place this way,” she said, voice shaking. “Maybe I can’t put it all back together, but I can do this one thing. My sister couldn’t stand an unmade bed. She would make mine if she came to visit me and found it messy.”
He watched her for a few seconds, then moved to the other side and helped her straighten the comforter over the mattress.
“You don’t have to do this,” she told him, not daring to look up as he leaned over to swipe a wrinkle smooth.
“I know.”
Lindsey found the decorative pillows on the floor and arranged them the way Lena had always liked. Then she set the bedside lamp upright again, and the room looked almost normal.
They walked back into the living room, where Jace lifted Lena’s all-in-one unit and tucked it under his arm, glancing around. He seemed to read her thoughts: it wasn’t right to leave it like this. “Don’t worry about it. Help her put it in order when we get her back, Lindsey.”
When we get her back. Such an optimistic idea. But it also drove home the fact that this was really happening. It all still seemed too surreal, like Lena should walk in the door right now.
Maybe if Jace could figure something out, that day would come soon.
He wasn’t like most men she’d known. Though frankly, she hadn’t known many, at least not intimately. Her guys had been mild-mannered, a little geeky, and safe. A shelter she could run to, rather than the storm that caught her out in the middle of nowhere.
While Jace had forced her to find her own strength instead of leeching off his. Though why she was comparing him to past boyfriends, she had no idea; it wasn’t as if he would ever fall into that category. He was an address she’d been given, a name dredged up from the mists of the past.
But he insisted on taking her somewhere for dinner, to her utter confusion. While they sat mostly silent waiting for food, she tried to watch him over her cup of coffee without bein
g too obvious about it. He wore jeans and a black sweater, and not a single person who came in the door was spared a full assessment by his sharp, dark eyes.
“Do you think we were followed or something?” she asked at last, having to mentally prepare herself for those eyes being turned on her.
“Nothing is beyond the realm of possibility.” He seemed to remember his own cup of cooling coffee and picked it up. His hands were big, graceful, capable of flying across a keyboard with blinding speed, as she’d seen, but also hard and calloused and no doubt capable of fucking someone up. They’d felt so strong holding her shoulders yesterday that she still felt them there. It took her a moment to steady her breathing.
He’d told her not to ask any questions about his military service. Okay. But she was dying to. “Will you at least tell me what branch you served in?” she asked, prepared for a brutal refusal.
“Air Force,” he said with an unmistakable note of finality. But she couldn’t stop herself.
“You saw combat?”
The way his eyes flickered up at her then, catching the light and flashing, he didn’t even have to answer the question. They were full of festering darkness, hidden nightmares. “I did.”
“Sorry. I’ll shut up about it.”
It’s all Lena’s fault. My God. Why is he here?
“Thank you for doing this. I know you don’t have to or have any reason to.”
“I have my reasons. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”
“Okay.” The man seemed to have a firewall around his heart, but there had to be something in there she could find, something to connect with. “You got my story, but I never really got yours. Are you from Denver originally? Kind of weird that we all ended up in the same place, don’t you think?”
“I live where I’m told. So originally, no, I’m not from here. I was bounced around Texas foster homes until I aged out of the system.”
“Oh,” she breathed. “I’m—”
“Save your sympathy.”
Lindsey stammered for a moment. “I-I just mean…it’s not an ideal life for a child.”
