Chapter 24
Chapter Twenty-Four
The couch was lumpy now that the cushions had been sliced and some of the stuffing removed. Seth shifted his weight until he found a spot that wasn’t quite as bad. He lay on his back, one arm behind his head, looking up at the ceiling, thinking.
After Callie went to bed, he’d fired up his computer and checked for responses to his inquiry on the bulletin board. It’d only been a few hours since he’d last checked, but he had to look again. Nothing more than what he already had. Which wasn’t unusual. Information like what he wanted took time to be teased out of the dark corners it resided in.
If she had any connection to Smirnov or Fedorov, he’d find it. Not that he believed she was guilty of anything. He knew the irony of that thought would only make his team laugh uproariously. He’d been focusing on her as the potential traitor in the company from the moment he learned she’d spent time in Poland and was fluent in Russian and Polish.
It’d seemed so obvious at the time. Sometimes if it walked like a duck and quacked like a duck, it was a duck. Trying to find another explanation because the one you had was too easy wasn’t always the correct response.
But he no longer believed she was capable of selling out her country. She’d have to be one cold-hearted bitch to expose her sister to danger, and there was no way he could be convinced she’d do it. Not since he’d spent the past forty-eight hours-plus around the clock with her and saw the way she worried about Nikki.
Callie wasn’t guilty of anything but being young and vulnerable when a man singled her out for grooming.
She was also in danger, and he needed to figure out who was targeting her. Then he needed to keep her safe so she and her team could finish their work.
When he’d gone outside with everyone earlier, he’d caught up to Ghost and told him about Callie’s work on the code. He’d never managed to hack her computer, because there’d never been time, but he thought the new information probably made up for it. The surprise on his team leader’s face had been clear.
“Good work, Phantom.”
It hadn’t felt like good work to him. He’d pressed her emotional buttons hard to get that confession. She’d been caught against a wall, and he’d been an eighteen-wheeler backing up to flatten her if she didn’t spill some truth.
Yeah, they’d needed that information, but he didn’t like the way he’d had to get it.
Especially after she walked into her house and saw the destruction. It was one more blow she had to shoulder after a year of blows.
He thought about when he’d pulled her off the couch earlier, telling her to go to bed, and the look in her eyes as she’d gazed up at him.
Lost, scared, alone. Vulnerable.
She’d wanted him to go with her. Not for sex, but because she was scared.
The crazy thing was, he’d wanted to. He’d wanted to tell her he’d hold her all night if that’s what it took for her to sleep.
But he didn’t do shit like that, and not with someone he was actively responsible for. This was a job, no matter that part of the job was pretending to be dating when her sister was around. He didn’t need to confuse those two things, and neither did she.
It was up to him to hold that line, not her.
“Fuck,” he muttered. Callie was the last woman he should be thinking about, and yet she was the only one on his mind. He didn’t get it. She was pretty, sure. But she was in a heap of emotional turmoil, and he didn’t need to take any of that on. He had enough of his own he was still dealing with.
She’d told him he should talk to someone, that it might help. He’d never considered it, but now he kept thinking maybe he could talk to her. She was the only person he’d told about Mia, crazy as that was.
But if he told her the truth, that he’d given Mia up, what would she think of him then? Normal people didn’t give up their kids, right? Even when they were seventeen and scared of the consequences the baby’s grandparents threatened them with.
Maybe if he’d had people in his life who’d cared for him, he wouldn’t have felt so alone. When Mandy’s dad, who was a federal judge, had told him he was a good for nothing piece of trash and he’d go to prison for a long time if he dared contact Mandy again, he’d believed it.
When Judge Perry shoved papers in front of him and told him he was giving up all parental rights to the baby, he’d done it, trembling with fear the entire time. He’d been seventeen, working at an electronics store and going to high school, and he’d thought marrying Mandy and taking care of her and the baby was going to be his life.
He’d told Callie that he’d joined the military to escape his grandparents. It wasn’t true, though it’d certainly done that. He’d joined at eighteen because Judge Perry had told him that’s what he was going to do. His grandparents hadn’t argued with the judge, who went to the same church and served as a deacon. They hadn’t stood up for him or Mandy, hadn’t cared about ever seeing their great-grandchild, and he’d hated them even more for it.
Mandy had given the baby up for adoption because that’s what her parents demanded, but she’d at least told him the name she’d given their daughter. Mia.
He hoped she had a great life, that her parents loved her, and that she was thriving. He would never know, and most of the time he was okay with it. Sometimes it killed him because there was one other person in this world that he knew about who shared his DNA, who was his family, and he’d never held her or spoken to her. He tortured himself with thoughts of her unhappy like he’d been, questioning why her birth parents didn’t want her. He fervently hoped that wasn’t her life, but he’d never know.
That was what woke him in the middle of the night, gasping for air and shaking. The fact he’d never know if his child was unhappy and lonely, if she was well, if she was even alive.
He’d had those thoughts more often lately. He’d considered looking up Mandy’s contact info, seeing if she knew anything. Then again, knowing her father, he’d pushed for a sealed adoption so the child would never come looking for her or the family. That would explain why, the few times he’d tried to search the records, he never found anything about a baby.
The Perrys had money, and Judge and Mrs. Perry had plans for their daughter. College at a suitable university with an appropriate professional track, such as nursing, then marriage to someone in their set, a man who would take care of her and let her stay home with the kids while he made a living as a lawyer or doctor. Maybe even a banker. Someone with money and access who fit in at the country club and only wanted the best for his wife and kids.
The door to the spare bedroom opened, cutting into his thoughts. He lay there and listened for her footsteps. She went into the bathroom and shut the door. Luna announced her arrival with a cold nose against his hand. Seth petted her silky fur and waited for her to take off.
But when the bathroom door opened again, she only turned to look. Her tail thumped as Callie’s footsteps came closer.
“Luna, don’t wake Seth,” she whispered.
“She didn’t.”
“Oh. Was it me?”
“No.” He propped himself on an elbow. “Haven’t really been to sleep yet.”
“Me neither.”
She stepped closer and he realized she was still wearing her clothing from earlier. “You didn’t change for bed.”
She shook her head. “I couldn’t.” She wrapped her arms around her body. “I wanted to be ready. Just in case.”
“Callie,” he breathed, his heart squeezing with sympathy.
“You’re still in your clothes,” she pointed out.
“I’m on the couch with weaponry nearby. Ready. You were supposed to sleep.”
“I can’t. I feel… anxious. Like somebody’s waiting in the woods and the minute I close my eyes, they’ll creep closer and closer until I wake up and they’re standing over me.”
“Unless I have a sudden heart attack or a brain aneurysm and die, that’s not happening. Because I’ve still got the trail cameras and the house alarms, and I’ll know if anyone approaches. They aren’t getting inside. We patched up the door and boarded it up until we can get the locks changed tomorrow. They aren’t waltzing inside without facing a whole lot of firepower.”
“I think I need a glass of wine. Maybe that’ll help.”
He rolled to his feet. “Sit here. I’ll get it.”
“You don’t?—”
“Have to. I know. Sit, Callie.”
She sat and he went into the kitchen to find a glass that hadn’t been shattered, which wasn’t all that hard considering there were exactly four left in the cabinet, poured white wine into it, and returned to hand it to her before sitting on the chair nearby.
“You aren’t having any?”
“Nope. Gotta keep a clear head.”
“Right. Makes sense.” She sipped. “You’re sure I can’t leave town? Take Nikki and get the hell out of here?”
Now why did that thought make the acid reflux in his chest flare again? He was going to have to start taking Pepcid if this kept up.
“I’m sure. Even if you managed to get some of the bigger parts right, like new identities and flying under the radar, you’ll need to work. You can’t work anywhere these days without a social security number, unless you work cash jobs like picking crops. That’s not only backbreaking, it’s also not steady. Plus there are a lot of farm workers out there who want those jobs and they can do it better and faster than you can. What’s that leave? Your computer skills? How will you advertise for jobs? You don’t think these guys won’t assume that’s the first thing you’ll do? They’ll haunt all the bulletin boards on all the sites they can, watching for freelancers. Because you’ll have to go to the bigger boards. You can’t rely on the community center in Nowheresville, pinning your phone number on the board and waiting for calls. And you can’t work in a barn because they’ll be looking for that, too. You could probably clean houses, but even that has competition these days. And you’re inside people’s houses without really knowing who those people are. What if somebody assaults you? You going to the police to report it?”
He’d gone through those options rapid fire, and he could see the disappointment in the slump of her shoulders. But she had to know it wasn’t going to work even if she thought of something else she could do for money.
“I see your point. But the bad guys can’t be everywhere at once. It’s a big country.”
She sounded defensive, small.
“No, but all they gotta do is be in the right place once. That’s all it takes. The odds might be astronomical, or they might not. You willing to take that chance with Nikki’s life?”
“No.” She sighed. “I just wanted to hear you tell me again why it’s a bad idea. When I’m lying in bed alone, I start to think, hey, I’m smart, I can do this. I can disappear. I know how to erase our digital trail, and I’ll be careful not to return to any email accounts or sites I’ve used before. But it’s a risk, just like staying is a risk. One day, I’d start to think the risk was gone and I’d make a mistake. I’d think we were in the clear and it’d turn out somebody with a long memory and a thirst for vengeance would have been waiting to find me all that time.”
“It’s possible.”
She sipped her wine quietly. Then her head snapped up as if she’d remembered something. “Hey, what’s going on between Daphne and Kane?”
He snorted. “Helluva gear change, honey. Think you dropped the transmission on the highway back there.”
“Cute. Seriously though, they’ve got a weird vibe thing going. Or is it just me?”
“It’s not just you. I think Kane wants her, but he doesn’t want her. Treats her like the sister he never had, hovers over her, protects her. Daphne, poor girl, just wishes—speculation here—that he’d act like she’s not his little sister for once. She’s dating Warren Trigg, manager of the Piggly Wiggly, and Kane acts like it’s no big deal when he really wants to twist Trigg’s balls off for daring to ask her out in the first place.”
“I see. Poor Warren. I think I’ve seen him before. Tall, scrawny guy. Kane’s arms are bigger than his legs. So are yours.”
“That’s him. I think Daph likes him. I don’t think she’s only dating him to get a reaction out of Kane. But I also think if Kane were to get his head out of his ass, there might be something there. Or he’d piss her off like he does most women, and we’d lose the best assistant in the world.”
“Which you don’t want to happen.”
“No. Since we hired Daphne, she keeps everything tight. She schedules classes, handles customer service, takes care of the day-to-day bookkeeping, and probably a hundred other things I don’t realize. She keeps a running inventory of the supplies, too. Not the guns and ammo, though she has access to those manifests, but everything else. She’s indispensable, and it’d be a serious bitch to have her quit because Kane is a dick.”
It was hard to remember what it was like before Daphne, but it hadn’t been as controlled and smooth. Their main focus was using the range as a cover for Ghost Ops so everything they’d done had been in service to the mission. But for Daphne, the range was the mission. She made them more legit than they’d been on their own.
When Judy Simpson from the Bee wanted an ad for her paper, Daphne took charge and made it happen. When a church group wanted to schedule defense classes, Daphne coordinated everything. When the toilet paper was running low and the coffee was about to run out, Daphne was there with new supplies.
They’d managed fine without her, but they managed much better with her.
Yeah, maybe it was a good idea if Kane kept his head in his ass. Because he wasn’t the kind of guy who’d ever commit. In all the years Seth had known him, he’d never stayed with the same girlfriend for more than a month. Probably why he treated Daphne like a sister instead of viewing her as a potential hookup. Even he knew he’d wreck it for them all if he got involved with Daph.
Seth decided the dude deserved a medal for his restraint even if it was annoying as shit sometimes. Like when he took Daphne all over two counties looking at cars after hers died but wouldn’t actually give her a recommendation. None of them were the right car according to him. The girl was on a budget, so Seth didn’t know what the hell Kane expected. She wasn’t going to buy something with all the latest bells and whistles. She just needed safe and reliable, but he kept finding excuses why cars weren’t right.
“I thought Kane was the nicest one of you guys when you were at GRL.”
“That’s because he’s Kane. Chance and Kane are two of the smoothest motherfuckers you’ll ever meet. They say the right things, make you think you’re the center of their universe. They excel at conversation.”
“You aren’t bad at it,” she said. “You just take time to warm up.”
“For some reason, I’ve talked more crap to you than I do to most people I know. You’re relentlessly chatty.”
Her jaw dropped. “I am not. You make it sound like I talk all the time, and I don’t.”
“You talk a lot to me.”
Her gaze dropped to her wine glass. “I told you before. You make me nervous so I can’t help myself.”
“You said it was because you weren’t sure I liked you. What’s the reason now?”
“That’s part of it.”
“And the other part?”
She bit her lip and lifted her gaze. “You kissed me. I know you did it to distract me, but you still did it. And then you told me to think about it, also to keep me distracted, but I did think about it. Endlessly. And I know you didn’t mean it and I’m probably making a fool of myself here, but yes, you make me nervous, so I talk to cover it up because I’m awkward that way.”
He had a choice here. Go in the direction she was leading him, tell her he was sorry for kissing her and hadn’t realized it would mean something to her, or tell her the truth, which was that he’d wanted to kiss her.
Yeah, he’d done it to short-circuit her fear, but that wasn’t the only reason.
He’d looked at her when she’d walked out of her bedroom earlier and thought, whoa. Her jeans were fitted, finally showing those curves he’d known were there, and she’d put on a white V-neck T-shirt that showed a hint of cleavage when he stood over her and looked down. Her hair was long and silky, parted in the middle and tucked behind her ears, and she wore a delicate chain around her neck with a gold moon and a star.
She didn’t have a watch, but wore a slim FitBit. When he’d met her at GRL, she’d had on black pants and low heels with a button up blouse and the same necklace. She hadn’t worn the FitBit because it wouldn’t have been allowed inside the SCIF where she worked.
Callie was pretty. Not a stunner, but a quiet kind of pretty that unfolded the more time you spent with her. But the more he looked at her, the more stunning she got.
So, yeah, he was attracted, and he’d kissed her because he’d fucking needed to do it.
“I wanted to,” he said, because there was no way he was going to agree with her assessment and let that work on her inside. Because it would. She was the kind of person who felt things deeply, like him, and she’d turn it over and over again even when she didn’t mean to.
She was quiet. She took another swallow of her wine. “And the rest of it? Did you want to do those things too?”
“You mean when I told you to think about the other places you’d like my tongue?”
She nodded, but she managed to make it look so hesitant that, once more, he couldn’t tell her anything but the truth. His dick was on high alert at the moment. Took everything he had to make it stay semi-hard instead of turning to stone.
“I meant every word, Callie. I shouldn’t because you’re under my protection, but hell, nothing about this situation is ordinary anyway.”
“I have to think you’d be bad for me. But I want to go there anyway. I want to stop thinking so much and just feel. It’s been a long year of thinking and bottling things up inside and trying to keep a strong front for Nikki because she needed me to be the one who had it together. But I want to let go for a change. I want to do something for me . Even if it’s bad for me.”
His dick was winning the battle with his brain at the moment. “Why would it be bad for you?” he asked, his voice gravelly with need.
“Because you’re…” She waved a hand. “Well, look at you. And look at me. I’m not elegant or classy or even very sexy. I’m just me. I write code and I glue scraps of paper and other ephemera into journals. What did you say? I should be at a scrapbooking meeting with a bunch of old ladies? You look like the kind of guy who needs a hot babe with cherry red lipstick, long nails, and a sassy attitude. That’s not me. If I put on lipstick, it’ll be on my teeth—and probably my shirt—within ten minutes tops. Not that I think you’re looking for a girlfriend,” she blurted. “Oh lord, I should probably stop drinking this wine. I’m word vomiting again. Embarrassingly so.”
“You done?” he asked when her words trailed off.
“I think so. Now I think I should go hide my face beneath my pillow and hope you forget everything I just said.”
Fucking hell, this woman got to him. He didn’t know why, but when she said shit like that, when she put herself down, he wanted to lift her up and make her believe she was more than worthy of his attention. If anyone was unworthy, it was him.
Seth stood and held out a hand. She stared up at him. Then she set her nearly empty glass down with a sigh and put her hand in his so he could help her up.
He didn’t stop there, however. He spanned her jaw with his hand, tilted her head back, and dropped his mouth to hers. She sighed, opening to him, and he thrust his tongue into her mouth, tasting wine. It was sweet, but so was she. He wanted to know if all of her was that sweet.
When he broke the kiss, she put her hands on his arms to steady herself. He gazed down at her, made sure she was looking at him when he spoke.
“I don’t care if you wear lipstick, Callie. You don’t need long nails. And I think you’re plenty sassy. Sexy too, though you don’t think so for some reason. I plan to show you how sexy I find you, but not tonight. Not when you’ve had wine and your senses are clouded. You still want me to lick all those parts of you tomorrow, then game on, honey.”
So much for holding the line. But he couldn’t do it anymore. Not with her. With anyone else, sure. But not with Callie. He didn’t know what that said about him.
Her breath caught. “I’m not impaired, Seth.”
“Can’t be sure of that, so not tonight.”
“But you want to.” She sounded hesitant, uncertain of herself. Like maybe she was imagining the whole thing. It was yet another nudge in the direction they were going. Because he wouldn’t let her doubt herself like this.
“I want to.”
“You aren’t just saying that so I’ll go back to bed and leave you alone?”
This woman. He tugged her in the direction of the bedroom. “No, I’m not just saying it. Also, newsflash, I’m going to bed with you because that couch isn’t big enough for me. You’re getting into the bed, I’m going back for the rifle, and then I’m getting in there beside you. To sleep. That work for you?”
“I—”
He stopped at the door to the bedroom. “Yes or no, Callie? That’s all I want to hear from you.”
“Yes,” she breathed.
Good enough for him.