Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
Victoria peered out the window overlooking the street in front of her building. South Orange, New Jersey’s antique lampposts partially illuminated the curb, and the moon hung overhead like a giant golf ball gleaming in the still-dark, early morning sky.
She looked in the hallway mirror and smoothed out a wrinkle on her cream-colored blouse.
The faux gold chain and matching earrings were adequate.
If only she still had her mother’s pearl earrings.
Fussing unduly over her clothes wasn’t something she normally cared about, and the clothes rod in her closet wasn’t packed from end to end.
Budgetary constraints meant her wardrobe wasn’t terribly diverse.
The few things of any value she’d managed to grab from the house before leaving Chicago had long since been sold to pay for things like food and rent.
Besides, since then, there hadn’t been many reasons to dress up. Not even on dates.
The two men she’d actually tried dating had both essentially called her an ice princess, incapable of exhibiting any passion.
That hadn’t been the cause of her frigidity.
It was more that she hadn’t been ready to trust anyone with her body or her heart again.
She’d only felt intense passion once before in her life. With an FBI agent, of all people.
She yanked her jacket from the chair and shoved her arms into it.
The same purple suit she’d worn to the FBI office last week would have to do.
Who cared if he’d seen it before, and what did it matter?
He knew everything about her life that was bad, everything she’d strived to put behind her and forget.
Maybe he knew more than she’d ever realized.
Maybe he’d put a bug in her purse, or inside hers and Yuri’s house. Had he tapped their phone, too?
Get over it! You’re paranoid enough as it is.
Mail that had accumulated over the past couple of days sat on a small table beside the door, right next to the framed photo of her mother.
With some time to spare before Kyle picked her up, she sifted through the stack, pulling out the NYU course guide she’d requested for her doctorate.
Finally, she was on the right professional track.
The thought brought a smile to her face, but it didn’t last.
There’d once been another course guide, one she’d been equally excited to receive.
By that time, her life had already begun unraveling in ways that still gave her chills.
If only she’d seen Yuri’s psychological machinations for what they truly were—a carefully orchestrated plan to alienate her from her family and friends.
She set the course guide back on the table.
The power of hindsight really was twenty-twenty.
Yuri had come up with excuse after excuse as to why her mother shouldn’t move in with them.
Her mom had passed away two years ago, and she couldn’t help but wonder if things would have turned out differently if she’d moved in with them.
Looking back, Yuri must have sensed it would have.
So, here she was a decade later with no husband, no house, virtually no belongings, and without children, the one thing she could never have no matter how much she wished for it.
Headlights glinted off the apartment’s second-story window.
She looked outside. Two SUVs had parked at the curb.
A tall dark form got out of the lead vehicle.
Kyle. Dim though the lighting was, she’d know him anywhere from the way he held himself.
Authoritative. In control. Able to leap tall buildings in a single bound.
With a heavy sigh that did nothing to steady her nerves, she draped a gold silk scarf around her neck and grabbed her briefcase. All weekend she’d been dreading this moment. Now all she had to do was suck it up for one more day, then never have to see Kyle again.
She locked the door behind her and dropped her keys in her skirt pocket. Every step closer to the stairwell seemed to be pulling her backward in time to parts of her life she had no interest in reliving.
What hurt most of all, gouging a crater-sized hole in her self-esteem, was shame. Shame about what she used to be––helpless. While she no longer felt that way, it would always be a sore subject, like an open wound that never healed.
Haven’t I done everything I was supposed to?
She pushed open the stairwell door. Her heels clicked on the stairs, echoing with every step. She’d gone to all the support meetings and appointments with her counselors. She’d even pulled up stakes and moved far, far away from her old life. So why didn’t she feel healed?
Marissa had said that only she had the power to heal herself inside, to take control of her life and her own happiness, and if she didn’t truly believe that, she’d never be able to move on. Ironically, Kyle had said something eerily similar.
It was true. Her face was no longer bruised, her clothes no longer hung on her like drapery, and she had a good job. But did she really believe in herself?
Sometimes.
Was she finally in control of her own destiny and happiness?
Definitely not. Not when Kyle had re-entered her life with the force of a battleship.
This one man had the power to influence her so intensely, but it was completely different from the power Yuri had over her.
Yuri’s was the power of fists and emotional cruelty.
With Kyle, it was something else, yet a palpable power nonetheless.
One that had her life careening out of control into a deep, dark ditch she might never crawl out of.
The stairwell door slammed behind her. In the building foyer, she paused with her hand on the door leading outside. Determination beat out a steady rhythm in her head and in her heart.
Running from her fears did nothing to heal her soul. Facing them was part of the healing process, and right now Kyle Gates was one of her greatest fears.
I can do this. I am stronger now.
Outside, the air was warm and humid. She hefted the briefcase under her arm and headed down the stairs to the sidewalk. Before she’d hit the bottom step, a dark shadow fell in front of her. She sucked in a breath and spun, ready to scream, then run.
“Morning,” Kyle said in that sexy, reverberating tone she remembered. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you.”
“Morning,” she replied, readjusting the grip on her briefcase.
Streetlight glinted off his jet-black hair. Golden-brown eyes blazed like twin candle flames. He was different now, all federal agent-like, yet so achingly familiar. Her pulse fluttered, and every hair on her body stood at full attention, every cell lit with enough energy to power the block.
A coiled wire hooked around his ear, trailing down the back of his neck where it disappeared beneath his collar, reminding her there would be a small army of other federal agents protecting her client in the courtroom.
“You need a new briefcase,” he observed.
“I know.” She laughed nervously. “Getting a new one never seems to be a priority. This one’s still serviceable.”
“If you say so.” He arched a brow. “We should get going.”
When he placed his hand in the small of her back, she felt the heat as surely as if he’d touched her bare skin. A discernibly pleasant shiver darted up her spine.
Both SUVs had their engines running. As he led her past one of them, she could just make out the driver tipping his head to her. She lifted her hand and gave a brief wave. “Who is that?” she asked.
“My brother.” He opened the passenger door for her. “He’s an FBI agent, too.”
She slid onto the seat, muttering under her breath, “Of course, he is.” Not that she should be surprised. Being an FBI agent was probably something genetic in his family, firmly attached to the Gates Y chromosome.
Kyle got behind the wheel and they pulled out. In the sideview mirror she caught his brother tucking in behind them. “What’s his name?”
“Deacon. Deke.”
“How many siblings do you have?”
“Three brothers. Two are FBI agents.” Confirming her genetic theory. “Jack, my older brother, is meeting us at the courthouse. My other brother, Lance, is also an agent, but we’re not really sure what agency he works for.”
“How is that possible?”
“The United States government works in mysterious and secretive ways.”
They do indeed.
“Meaning he’s some kind of black ops agent?” The kind Hollywood made movies about.
“Probably.”
“You’re lucky to have them. Brothers, I mean.” Siblings were something she’d missed out on. Someone to talk to. Someone who might have helped her when she’d needed it most. Then again, hadn’t Kyle done that?
He headed onto the southbound New Jersey Turnpike. Even at this hour, the highway had a steady stream of vehicles in both directions. Fifteen minutes later, Kyle unhooked a microphone from a box on the floor in front of the console. “ETA in three.”
“Copy that,” came a disembodied voice.
“Here’s how this is going down.” He took the exit for Carteret.
“We’re picking up Alyona at a safehouse, then going directly to the courthouse.
U.S. Marshals will come with us. AUSA Washington thinks she won’t testify until late morning, so I reserved a holding room for you and Alyona.
When it’s time for her to testify, I’ll take her in. You’ll stay in the holding room.”
“What?” Twisting in her seat, she glared at him, though he couldn’t see it. “I have to be with Aly. That was our deal.”