Chapter 2 Gutted #2
“Ask me!” I yelled, yanking him away from the wall only to slam him against it a second time.
“H-how do you know?”
“I saw her tonight. Her and my twins.”
“Twins? I didn’t know. I didn’t…” He closed his eyes, muttering, “Feck.”
“So I’m going to ask you one more time, why’d you do it?”
“Because I was given an order to tell you she was dead and I followed it.”
My lungs seized, partly from his declaration––which showed no hint of remorse––but mostly, it was the implications of what he’d said which left me breathless.
Like an idiot, I’d assumed he’d acted alone.
The possibility of other players hadn’t crossed my mind, even though it probably should’ve been my first thought.
Niall was a pawn, a yes-man, not a mastermind.
Shoving away from him, I paced the floor, trying to make sense of the senseless.
Who would want me to believe Sloane was dead and why?
What was the point? She had nothing to do with the case.
A memory tugged at the corners of my mind.
It was fragmented at first, bits and pieces of an intense conversation. Then it all came flooding back.
“You’ve lost your mind, Duncan.”
“I won’t keep lying to her.”
“Do you hear yourself? You’re talking about putting our entire investigation at risk over some chick you met three months ago.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m telling her my name, not who really shot JFK.”
“Feck’s sake, you little prick. This isn’t a joke.”
“It’s not, so hear me when I say, I’d give up everything for her, including my job. I love her.”
“No, you love the pussy she’s been giving you on the regular.”
“Watch your mouth, asshole.”
“I will, when you stop thinking with your dick.”
The vision faded like a puff of smoke. In a blink, the hotel room came back into focus.
Niall stood in front of me, clapping his hands in front of my face.
Between his fake look of concern and my jaunt down memory lane, I realized something important.
Those consequences I’d deliberated earlier?
They only became a reality if his heart stopped beating.
Besides, family was always worth the risk.
I struck fast. My hand shot out, connecting with his windpipe.
He stumbled back, gasping for air, and I used the momentum to sweep his legs with mine, knocking him off his feet.
Following him down, I straddled his waist, effectively trapping his arms at his sides with my thighs.
When his hips bucked in a weak attempt to throw me off-balance, it only fueled my fire.
“You told someone I was jeopardizing the investigation. Who was it?”
“That’s”––he coughed––“above your pay grade.”
“Above my pay grade, huh? We’ll see.”
I had one answer, but thinking back, it had been less than twenty-four hours between our argument and the accident. Was it happenstance or something more? A sick feeling churned low in my stomach as I considered the new possiblity.
Lurching forward, I landed with my palms on either side of his face. “Was my cover actually blown or was the accident a direct result of your betrayal?”
His eyes bore into me. “The entire operation was bigger than you or me, Duncan. It still is.”
Standing, I planted my foot in his chest. Getting an actual response from him was like trying to get blood from a turnip. It was useless and I was done. D-O-N-E. Done.
“You fucked with the wrong person, Niall.”
Sloane
There was never a doubt in my mind I’d see Rogan James again.
For a brief moment after waking up in the hospital room alone, I considered the possibility he may not have survived the accident, but I dismissed the thought as quickly as it had occurred.
His soul was too entangled with mine for me not to feel the weight of his loss. He was out there…alive…somewhere.
My brother, Finn, was the only person who believed someone else had been in the accident with me. Statements from the first responders claimed they’d found a singular victim lying on the ground some distance away from the burned-out shell of a car. Singular. Just me.
When I suggested otherwise, the police officer who came to question me muttered something under his breath about a head injury, then left shaking his head.
Yes, my memories were a bit fuzzy, but not enough to have made up a whole freaking person.
Realizing the accident may not have been an accident, survival instincts took over.
I shut my mouth and didn’t speak his name again.
From the beginning, there were certain aspects about his life Rogan wouldn’t discuss.
His job, for one. Obviously he had a source of income, since he always paid when we went out.
The particulars were irrelevant to me. I knew everything I needed to know to fall head over heels in love with the man behind the wall of secrets.
Nothing else mattered, so long as we were together.
Which was why I went directly to his place after being discharged from the hospital.
If it hadn’t been for the fact my key opened the door, I would’ve thought I’d gone to the wrong apartment.
Other than the smell of fresh paint in the air and the new hardwood covering the floor, the place was completely empty.
It had obviously been gutted. Which was exactly how I felt when I left.
Still, I didn’t give up hope. The twins became my refuge. Knowing I carried a part of him with me was the only way I survived. Day by day. One foot in front of the other. Everything would be okay once they were born. I’d give them the best life possible, even if I had to do it alone.
Finn insisted on being in the delivery room with me, a decision I’m sure he regretted after I took a swing at the nurse and punched him instead.
I wasn’t normally a violent person, however, she had it coming.
The tension broke when Rogan James came screaming into the world.
I bawled louder than my newborn son when I told my brother what I wanted to name him.
He wasn’t happy with my decision, thought I was setting myself up for a lifetime of torture. I disagreed.
Reagan Leigh followed her brother nine minutes later.
She was so quiet, I started to panic, until the doctor reassured me she was perfect.
And she was. They both were. Twenty fingers, twenty toes, and their daddy’s ice-blue eyes.
They were the conclusion to our love story, without the happily ever after.
Through every milestone he missed, my heart continued to burn bright for Rogan while the same mantra played on repeat in my mind.
He’ll come back. He’ll find us.
I just didn’t think it would take quite so long. Or that his name would actually be Duncan Palmer, not Rogan James. The whole name thing was going to take some getting used to. But he was here, well technically, not here-here, since he left three seconds after our reunion.
“You doing okay, honey?” Waverly asked through the bathroom door.
Waverly was my soon-to-be sister-in-law, since Finn proposed about two hours ago.
I adored her and so did my kids. Even Reagan, who was painfully shy, had warmed up to her quickly.
Who wouldn’t? Way was beautiful, smart, and had a heart of gold.
Best of all, she was a kick-butt FBI agent, who risked her life to save my brother. I’d forever be in her debt.
Funnily enough, she also happened to be Rogan––er––Duncan’s best friend-slash-boss. It felt like I was playing the Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon, except Duncan was the one everyone connected back to instead of the famous actor.
“Define okay.”
Whatever the definition, I was far from it. In truth, I was terrified. What if he didn’t want us? What if he didn’t want me? Would I be able to stay in Huntington? My head spun so fast with questions I thought I was going to throw up. Hence my reason for being in the bathroom.
“I’m coming in.” She opened the door enough to squeeze her body through, then quickly closed and locked it. “Your brother is playing hide-and-seek with the munchkins. I figured we wouldn’t want them barging in on us.”
“Thanks. I probably look like heck.”
“Never.” Waverly sat next to me on the ledge of the garden tub. “So, you and Duncan.”
“Yeah.” I slumped forward, propping my elbows on my knees.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“What’s there to say? We met, we fell in love, he lied, and I haven’t seen him in over eight years. The end.”
“I’d ask how pissed you are, except your answer kinda gave you away.”
“Here’s the thing.” I turned my head to look at her. “I’m really not. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not thrilled with the fact he lied, but I’m also not fuming. To tell you the truth, I’m fairly numb at the moment.”
“Numb is normal. You’ve been through quite a shock.”
“He was in the FBI back then, right?” She nodded. “What if our entire relationship was just part of his cover? I want so badly to believe what we had was real, that he’s the same man I fell in love with, even if his name is Duncan and not Rogan.”
“There’s one thing I know with absolute certainty. You were his world. If you believe nothing else, believe that.”
“How do you know?”
She sighed, wrapping me in a hug. We stayed that way for a few moments before Way broke the silence.
“Duncan and I met during an op about seven years ago. We just clicked.”
From the way she’d spoken about him previously, I knew they were close. The question rolling around in my head at the moment was just how close had they been? Did they ever take their friendship to the next level?
“Did you and he…” I let the question hang.
“Ew, no.” She shivered. “He’s my brother in every way except by blood.
I’ve shared every detail of my life with him; the good, the bad, and the downright ugly.
For the most part, he did the same. But when it came to his heart, he was guarded.
No matter what I tried, there was no breaking through the barrier he’d erected. Now I know why.”