Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Nothing ever fully prepares you to come face to face with a person you’ve been hunting—especially when they come looking for you.
Or specifically when the object of your infatuation appears out of nowhere.
And you’re fucked up on the inside like a burned-out building.
I’m vaguely aware that there’s pain radiating from behind my sternum. A wound that will never heal.
Any doctor would probably be alarmed at the intensity of the squeezing crush, but I know I’m already dead inside, so there’s nothing left to break in that particular cavity.
I should move but I’m glued in place.
A disconnect between my brain and my feet. A sizable distance at my six-foot-six inch height.
“Allison?”
Shit, I sound like I feel. Hollow and wrecked.
My long strides cover the ground with some momentum once I get on a roll. But I’m fully aware that even though this woman is a stranger, I’m walking toward the thing that could put me in the grave. Again. This time maybe for good.
Like an apparition in the rain, she folds her arms over her frame—her too-thin frame—watching me warily as the downpour soaks us both.
I’m reminded of a deer, all delicate and nervous with luminous oversized eyes.
She doesn’t just look ethereal, she wears her exhaustion like a veil.
“Who are you?” she asks instead of answering my question.
This biting demand comes just about the time I’m turning from stunned to angry myself.
Not angry.
Furious at myself for harboring the feelings the woman evokes. “Our team’s been looking for you.”
She flinches, but holds my gaze with a wary focus. “I know.”
I’m not really sure what the fuck is going on here—the tension snapping between us—but an uneasy feeling works its way into my gut right alongside the paralyzing grief that’s been there for too fucking long.
She tightens her hold on herself. “It’s all a scam.”
Hm. Weird remark.
Unconsciously, I get close enough to reach out and grab her if she decides to take off. “What’s a scam?”
“All of it. Whatever my father told you.”
I’m not sure why, but her attitude is all over my last nerve for no good reason. Or maybe for every good reason. But there’s a tornado inside my head right now, and I can’t see clearly for the debris.
“Oh, really?”
The woman stares at the center of my chest as if there’s something interesting there. Maybe the black, smoking cavern where my fucking heart used to live.
If she stares long enough, she’ll probably see a curl of smoke.
The whole not meeting my gaze irritates me too.
Women look at my eyes and fall in. That takes care of the other mixed-bag of body language my soulless carcass gives off.
“Hey, I’m up here.”
She mutters, “Tall men are such tools.”
I smirk at that stab. Don’t know about all tall men, but I’m well acquainted with my assholeness. I pull it out regularly.
“I know a few remarks about blonde women. Shall I share?”
Boring her gaze into my pecs, she sighs dramatically. “Spare me. I’ve probably heard them all, and something tells me you’re not very original. The taller they are, the smaller the brain.”
Oh, damn. This woman’s got a razorblade behind those straight white teeth.
“Okay, let’s cut the bullshit. Where have you been?”
Shifting between her feet, she frowns, causing a crease between her delicate brows. “Around.”
“Cut the cryptic.”
Way to live up to her expectation that I’m a tool.
Grumbling, I jerk my chin toward the party of onlookers that are leaving this shit up to my ass like I’m the greeting committee and interrogation team all rolled into one.
“Come with me.”
She takes a step back, glancing around nervously. “No, I should go.”
This is when I do reach out and snag her.
My arms are way fucking long, and she probably thought she was out of range, but I grip her wrist in a loose ring formed by my long fingers.
No need to use force. She’s easily a hundred-fifty pounds lighter than me, and she’s got nowhere to go. I’d chase her down in four seconds flat.
Or maybe I’d just chase her away so I wouldn’t have to ever look at her again.
But I’m more honorable than that.
“Hold on a hot minute. We’ve got questions.”
A look of alarm transforms her face, blanching her pale color even more, and I realize she’s looking up at a giant of a stranger with a scowl that’s been known to scare grown men so bad they piss their pants.
A lot of grown men.
Some were begging for their life too.
For a fraction of a second, I feel human like I never do during interrogations of tangos.
The girl’s had it rough and I’m making her life worse.
“Look, I’m not going to hurt you.”
She tugs her hand free. I let it go, my hand stinging weirdly from the contact.
Again, I wonder what the hell is going on with this energy crackling between us.
The picture of anger, as she folds her arms, pinching her black raincoat to her middle. “You and your people need to stop looking for me.”
Looking at her? No. Sorry.
Taking my time to look her over, I take in all of Allison Westerly. The target we’ve been hunting for weeks.
She’s an enigma, so elusive a whole damn team of SEALs haven’t been able to locate her. Until she located us.
Two weeks isn’t a long time when it comes to missions, but it was plenty of time for me to become obsessed with her.
Consumed. Not in a healthy way.
That inappropriate emotion is the first thing I’ve felt in forever.
A shudder rolls through me, leaving behind a longing so destructive that things inside of me creak and break like rotten timber that can’t hold the weight of my existence any longer.
The suffering in her eyes adds to the excruciating agony.
“Are you alone, Allison?”
More elusive silence follows as she looks quickly toward our team and the equipment gathered at the entrance of the cave. Five more minutes and our divers would have been in that cave risking their lives to look for her.
I press, “Do you have a guard?”
She blinks at me, her soft green eyes widening a fraction, before she flicks her gaze away. “I um…I did. Not now.”
That seals her fate. As if that hadn’t already been decided. But now, knowing she’s alone—she’s not going anywhere without me. “You’re not going anywhere then.”
A swirl of panic flares in her expression. “No! You don’t understand.”
The panicked tremble in her voice hits me square in the chest.
“Ma’am, I don’t think you understand. We’ve been hired to make sure you’re safe and right now I’m looking at a woman that’s ten pounds thinner, a whole lot paler than her photo, and skittish as fuck. She’s also alone in a country with dangerous rebels. So you can forget about us stopping this mission until we know what’s going on.”
This time she meets my gaze and there’s something new blazing there. Rage?
“You need to leave me alone. You could die. All of you could die because of talking to me.”
Like that’s going to happen. “You’re not walking away until you give us answers. Until you’re safe.”
Closing her eyes, she mumbles something. For a beat, she twists and presses her pale pink lips into a display of frustration. Like she’s counting back from one hundred to cool her murderous anger.
I can’t look away. Every flicker of emotion tattoos itself on me. Fueling my addiction to her.
“I shouldn’t have come,” she blurts when she finally pins me with another glare.
Too late for regrets. She’s caught now.
“Why did you?”
She exhales loudly as she shakes her head, causing her damp hair to cling to her cheek.
My fingers twitch. I need to move that tendril of hair—to touch her—as much as I need my next breath.
“I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to innocent men who dive in that treacherous cave because of some concocted story my father sold to your company.”
I know I’m staring, but there’s nothing I can do. A whirlpool is tugging me under. And when tears build on her lashes, I curse silently.
Don’t cry.
“You’re safe now.” My voice has gone rough. “You can trust us.”
The first tear falls.
Then I do.