Chapter 11
Chapter
Eleven
August 20 th
12:32 P.M.
Finally, he was alone with his thoughts.
While he loved his siblings with everything he had, they weren't just his family, they weren't just his team, they were his best friends as well, they hadn't given him a moment’s peace since he got back from Cambodia with Becca.
And Connor needed some peace.
Needed time and space to figure out the mess of thoughts and emotions raging inside his head.
It had taken a lot of convincing, but he’d finally got all five of his brothers and two one-day sisters-in-law to leave. They’d been gone only about thirty minutes, and while he did admit it left his house feeling empty, that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.
Well, it was, but the emptiness that clawed at his insides wasn't because his brothers had left, it was because Becca wasn't there.
There had always been an emptiness. Ever since he realized he’d lost Becca twelve years ago it had existed. It was an ache he’d done his best to ignore over the years, but never once tried to fill. How could he even think about filling a hole that was Becca-sized when there wasn't another person who was that same exact size?
He’d only ever wanted one woman, and he would only ever have one woman.
While he doubted Becca would believe him, he’d never had sex with anyone other than her. There’d been plenty of offers, he knew he had a good body, worked hard for it, and he’d been a SEAL, there were plenty of women who would try to sleep with him for that alone, but he didn't want another woman.
Only Becca.
Always only Becca.
So, he’d had to make do with his hand and his memories.
Not enough.
Never enough.
And now his Becca was back in his life, possibly temporarily, but at least she was close by, within reaching distance and it was tearing him up that he couldn’t just go to her. Couldn’t just pull her onto his lap like he used to, and wrap his arms around her, hold her, rock her, soothe her, touch her, kiss her, make love to her.
None of those things were appropriate anymore and he had no idea how he was supposed to survive the rest of his life without her if she decided she couldn’t give him a second chance. It would help if he at least knew more about this fiancé. If her love for him had truly died because she’d found someone to take his place, it was a lost cause.
When his phone, which he’d tossed onto the couch beside him, began to ring, he looked at it only because Becca had his number and she might call if something was wrong. Might. Because if something was wrong there was every chance she’d rather call one of his brothers than him.
It wasn't Becca, but it was Cassandra.
Not knowing where their baby sister was sucked, but they all agreed it was for the best. If he or one of his brothers were captured by the men trying to silence them, there was no way they could give up her location. Couldn’t tell someone what you didn't know. And they all believed there was no safer place in the world for Cassandra than with Prey’s elusive Delta Team. Those men didn't exist in any legal sense of the word, and they had skills that were distinctly nonhuman even though he knew they were, in fact, human beings and couldn’t be anything else. Still, they kept their secrets locked down tighter than anyone could hope to loosen, and nobody tried anyway. Delta Team deserved their privacy.
Cassandra was in the perfect place, but he missed having her around. If it had been any of his brothers calling, he wouldn't have picked up, but for his little sister, he absolutely would.
“Hey, squirt,” he said when he answered.
“Hey, jerk,” Cassandra shot back in her sassy way that lifted his mood. When they’d said goodbye to her, and she’d left with Delta Team she’d seemed like a shell of her former self. The revelation of her true parentage had knocked her about, as it would anyone, but it was great to hear her sounding more like her old self.
“Hey, is that any way to talk to the big brother you love and adore? Your favorite brother?” It was a running joke in their family that they all pretended to be Cassandra’s favorite, even though they all knew she loved them equally. Given that she’d only been five when they lost their parents and the rest of them had been teens and preteens, they’d all stepped in to help raise her since their grandparents were old and in poor health.
“You're not my favorite.” She huffed.
“Yeah? So which one of us is?”
“Today it’s Cade since he called and clued me in on what's going on.”
Since when did Cade become Mr. Chattypants? That wasn't like his older brother at all. Yet Cade had always had a soft spot for Becca, and it didn't take a genius to figure out why he’d think it would be a good idea for Cassandra to know she was back.
Just like the son he’d never known existed could have been conceived through rape, Cassandra had been.
In his own roundabout way, Cade was attempting to play matchmaker.
None of his brothers had been able to talk him into going out to the cabin to see Becca—something he wasn't prepared to do unless she expressly invited him—Cade thought that maybe their little sister would have better luck.
“He shouldn’t have done that,” Connor said softly.
“Why not? Just because I’m eight years younger than you and Becca doesn’t mean she wasn't my friend too.”
Her little sister tone made him smile. “Becca used to babysit you,” he reminded her.
“And she was the best sitter I ever had. Brothers included.” Cassandra huffed. “I know she was raped, Connor. That’s why you two broke up.”
He probably shouldn’t be surprised that Cassandra knew, even though back then, he’d tried to shield her from the truth. She’d known that Becca had been hurt, but none of them had ever mentioned rape, and while his brothers knew about the pregnancy he’d never told Cassandra.
“That’s not why we broke up, Cass,” he told her.
“Then why did you break up?”
There was no point in keeping it from her any longer. Cassandra knew about the rape, and given what she’d just learned it wasn't fair to lie to her. Especially if Becca decided to give him the chance he didn't deserve because sooner or later it would come up.
“Four months after her rape Becca found out she was pregnant,” he said the words he knew would pierce his sister’s heart.
Cassandra’s gasp made him wish they were having this conversation face-to-face so he could pull her into his arms and try to soothe her pain.
“She was raped, wound up pregnant, and you left her?” Cassandra screeched, sounding borderline hysterical. “How could you do that, Connor? You are definitely not my favorite brother.”
Her words hit him hard.
Harder than any physical blows could.
“I know,” he agreed because anything else would be lies.
“Do you know how badly I'm struggling right now? Knowing that dad wasn't really my dad, that mom only got pregnant with me because she was raped, that I wasn't planned or wanted?”
“You were always wanted,” he hissed.
“Even though I wasn't his, Dad stayed. He accepted me, raised me, and never let on that I wasn't one hundred percent part of our family. I don’t have many memories of them, but those I do have, I think he even loved me.”
“No thinking involved, Cassandra. He did love you. Adored you. You were his daughter in every sense of the word. He loved you because you were a part of Mom and he loved her with everything he had. Never ever doubt that he loved you.”
“Didn't you love Becca that way?”
Those words fueled the guilt and shame that had plagued him for over a decade. “She’s my other half. I love her more than life itself.”
“Then how could you leave her when she was suffering through that?”
A deep sigh rattled through his chest. “I messed up, Cassandra. I freaked out that day, thought I couldn’t raise her rapist’s baby even though we weren't sure who the father was. I fell apart, something I hadn't done since I found out what happened to the girl I loved. It all piled up on me and I crashed. I'm not proud of myself, actually, I'm ashamed of myself. But I panicked and destroyed my relationship with the only woman I’ll ever love in the process.”
“Twelve years, Connor. That’s how long I'd been alive at the time and that’s how long it’s been before you finally went to her. She must have felt so alone, so scared. Mom had Dad, but Becca had …”
“No one,” he finished for her when she trailed off.
“You aren't giving up on her again, are you?”
“I asked her for a second chance, but she never answered.” But she did let him comfort her on the plane. And she did tell him she’d been engaged. And his brothers said they believed she wanted him to take her to the cabin.
Was it Becca standing between them now or was it his own fears that he wasn't good enough for her?
“You can't give up on her,” Cassandra insisted. “Even if she doesn’t take you back, you still have to make it up to her. Right now, she’s scared and alone all over again, and you're not there to make things better. Go to her, Connor. Now. Talk things through. Work them out. Figure out whether there’s anything to salvage, and if there’s not, at least be her friend. Don’t let her be alone again.”
August 20 th
6:49 P.M.
Was that a car?
Becca jerked upright from where she’d been lazing on the porch, where she’d spent most of the day, when she spotted what she was positive was an approaching car on the long, winding driveway that led from the remote road to the cabin.
Someone was coming.
Who?
How?
The alarm hadn't triggered, she would have known if it did. Becca hadn't gone anywhere without her phone just so she would know if anything had set off the alarm.
So, whoever it was had to have the skills to bypass the system.
That couldn’t be good for her.
Scooping up her phone, she hopped back inside the cabin as quickly as she could. It wasn't large, there was a bedroom to the left of the front door, beside it was the bathroom, then the middle and right side of the cabin was the living area. At the back was the kitchen, a huge fireplace was on the side wall with a couple of couches around it. Two rocking chairs were by the front window and a solid oak dining table in the middle of the room. A small set of stairs led up to two attic bedrooms and another bathroom.
Not a lot of places to hide.
Since she hadn’t put her prosthetic on after lunch because she’d wanted to give her leg a chance to recover a bit from all those hours of walking through the jungle in Cambodia after they escaped, she could hardly hop her way to freedom.
Which meant flight was out.
Leaving fight as her only option.
When Cade brought her to his cabin, he and the other brothers had insisted that she be armed just in case.
Luckily.
Otherwise, she wouldn't stand a chance.
Retrieving the weapon from the lockbox in the nightstand drawer where she’d put it, Becca quickly scooped it up. The gun felt heavy in her hand, wrong. She’d chosen her path in life to help people not to hurt them.
But this was about protecting herself.
No time to be squeamish.
Besides, she’d killed in Cambodia to save herself. If she could do it then, she could do it now, too.
Still clutching her phone, Becca hesitated and then pulled up the contacts list. Connor’s number was in there. Should she call him?
It felt weird, both right and wrong. She’d learned not to rely on him for anything, but this wasn't about them, it was about her not getting herself killed or abducted. The last thing she wanted was to die or to be used to manipulate Connor and his family. They deserved answers and she didn't want to be part of the reason they didn't get them.
Stupid.
That’s what it would be not to call Connor or one of his brothers.
And if she was going to call one of them it may as well be Connor.
Because he’s the only one who makes you feel truly safe.
Ignoring the whisper in her head, she quickly touched on Connor’s name just as she caught sight of the car she’d spotted coming closer to the house. Ducking down behind the bed, she held the phone to her ear and counted the rings.
“Becca?” Connor’s voice came down the line moments later.
“There’s a car outside the cabin,” she said in a harsh whisper without any preamble. “I can hear it.” If she could hear it then it wasn't just close, it was pretty much right on the other side of the wall.
“Becca—”
“The alarm didn't go off,” she added, hurrying to get all the information she had out before it was too late. “Whoever it is managed to bypass it. They just turned the engine off.”
Her heart hammered so hard in her chest.
Was this how it was going to end?
Would these men hurt her before killing her like the men in Cambodia had been going to do?
If they were, she’d rather kill herself now and not allow them the chance.
“Becca—”
“I have the gun and I'm in the bedroom. I’ll do my best to shoot whoever it is, but if I don’t and they take me I'm sorry, Connor. I wish things had worked out the way we’d always planned.”
“Becca, if you would just let me get a word in,” Connor said in a rush before she could cut him off again and keep rambling.
This time she didn't.
She’d said what she needed to. If these were going to be the last words they exchanged, she wanted him to have his turn, too.
“It’s me. My car. I’m the one outside the cabin, so please don’t shoot,” he said, his voice a mixture of amused and reproached.
“Y-you?” she asked, hardly daring to believe that was true.
“I should have called, but if I asked if I could come and see you I was afraid you’d say no,” Connor explained.
Which she probably would have.
Because she was finding it increasingly difficult to think logically around him.
The desire to just curl up on his lap and let him take care of her, make everything okay, was too strong.
Just as strong was the fear of him letting her down again.
“It’s really you?” She was hesitant to believe it even though it would mean she wasn't in danger. The fear of being alone out there with Connor and what that would do to her was almost as bad as the fear of what those men would do to her. They could destroy her body but only Connor had the power to destroy her heart.
“I’m going to knock on the cabin door five times so you know it’s me.”
Five slow, loud, deliberate knocks echoed through to her in the bedroom.
It was Connor.
And she didn't know if she wanted to throw her arms around his neck or tear into him for scaring her like that.
Anger won out as she carefully stood and hopped to the living room, throwing open the front door.
“You scared the life out of me,” she grumbled, taking a half-hearted swing at him, her knuckles glancing off his muscled shoulder and causing him no damage at all. “What were you thinking?”
“That I had to see you,” he answered, looking appropriately chastised for scaring her. “I should have texted at the gate, I was going to surprise you.”
“Some surprise, you terrified me, I could have shot you.” Although now that she knew she wasn't in danger, and her heart rate was calming, she wasn't as mad as she felt she ought to be.
“In my defense, I did bring you these.” He held up a box of her favorite chocolates, a bouquet of her favorite flowers, and a funny-looking little penis-shaped plushie. It was a running joke between them ever since they first started doing … stuff … when they were teenagers.
Laughing, she reached out and took the little penis stuffy. “Don’t think this is going to get you out of trouble,” she warned. It should be weird holding this in her hand, knowing she’d had the real thing in her mouth just days ago, but for some reason, given their long history it wasn't weird at all.
“Noted. Can I come in?”
“What are you really doing here, Connor? You didn't come all this way just to give me a silly plushie and some chocolates.”
“And the flowers.”
“Right, and the flowers, because there’s not an entire wildflower meadow out there. Why are you here?”
“Because someone talked some sense into me. Told me that I’d left you alone once when you were vulnerable, and I couldn’t do it again.” Pain filled those sky-blue eyes she knew so well. “We found out just before I came to find you in Cambodia that Mom was raped. There was proof, that’s why they had Dad and his team killed and set Mom up to look like a traitor.”
Her heart went out to the woman who had been a second mom to her growing up. “I'm so sorry, Connor. I hate that your mom went through that. Is this proof why they’re trying to silence you all? So you can't find it and expose them and the conspiracy?”
“Yeah.”
“I hope you have this proof tucked away somewhere safe.”
“The proof is Cassandra.”
It took a second for his words to sink in, for their meaning to click. “Your mom was raped, and Cassandra is the product of that rape,” she said, pain and sorrow filling her heart for the girl she remembered. “That’s why you were vague about Cass not being there yesterday. You have her tucked away someplace safe.”
“No one can get to her where she is,” Connor told her. “She called and I told her about the baby, about how I reacted when I found out, and she told me that I had to find a way to make it up to you. I already knew that, but maybe I needed to hear someone give me permission to come to you before I could allow myself to do it.”
“Why would you need permission?”
“Because I hurt you, Becca. I freaked out, I left you alone, I didn't fight for you.”
Remembering his question, her chest tightened. She wasn't ready yet to decide one way or the other. “Connor, I can't …”
“I'm not asking you for anything more than to let me stay here with you,” he told her. “That’s it.”
“That’s it?” she asked skeptically. “Because I can't make any promises about the future right now.”
“I’m not asking you to, I swear. Just please, can I stay here with you?”
Saying yes was a bad idea. It opened the door to letting him back in and she wasn't sure she wanted to do that. Right now, it was a battle between her head, desperate to protect the rest of her from more pain, and her soul which couldn’t stand to be apart from its soulmate a single second longer.
Praying she wasn't making the biggest mistake of her life, Becca nodded and hopped backward, opening the door wider to let him in.
She just had to hope she was strong enough to keep the door to her heart firmly closed.