Chapter 2
CHAPTER 2
“ W hat the hell was that, Pat?”
Blade’s voice was controlled, but beneath it, there was something else. Shock.
They were outside now, standing on a bustling D.C. street, the weak sunlight doing little to cut through the winter chill. Horns blared, tires screeched, pedestrians moved past, oblivious to the unfolding drama. The city carried on like nothing had happened.
Like he hadn’t just tried to choke a man to death.
Pat jerked his arms free from the hands still holding him. His pulse still thundered in his ears.
“Nothing. I’m fine.”
Blade didn’t buy it. Neither did Viper, who stood nearby, arms crossed, staring at him like he’d never seen him before.
“That didn’t look like nothing,” Blade pressed. “You were going to kill him.”
Pat exhaled hard, raking a hand through his hair. If he wasn’t so fucking furious, he’d be embarrassed. His men had never seen him lose control like that. Not as a naval commander, and not in all the years running Blackthorn Security. Not once.
In the SEALs, violence was a tool. A means to an end. You struck fast, struck hard—and got the job done.
But this? This had been personal.
He forced himself to breathe. “He provoked me.” His voice came out rough. “I saw red.”
Blade glanced at Viper, who gave a slow shrug as if to say, No clue.
“That’s putting it mildly,” Blade muttered. “What did he say?”
“Doesn’t matter.” Pat’s tone brooked no argument. “We’ll pick up surveillance tomorrow. Let’s head back to the office.”
Then he walked off, leaving them standing there, still trying to process what the hell they’d just witnessed.
Back at Blackthorn Security HQ, Pat locked himself in his office.
He needed a minute.
No. He needed a fucking lifetime to process what he’d just heard.
Al-Jabiri’s words echoed in his head.
Your lover. The Brazilian model. I thought you knew. I left a note.
He exhaled with a harsh hiss. It couldn’t be true. Astrid’s death had been an accident. A car crash. Black ice on a winter road.
Hadn’t it?
He closed his eyes, and just like that, he was back there.
Eight years ago…
It was the week before Christmas, and Astrid had asked him over for supper. Her daughter, Izzy, was back from college but had gone out with friends.
It was the second Christmas without his late wife, Val, who’d lost her battle with breast cancer three years earlier, and the first without his son, Joe, who was deployed overseas. The holidays were hollow now, meaningless without family.
Astrid had sensed it, as she always did.
“Are you sure?” Pat had asked when she’d invited him to come over. “Richard will be there.”
“He doesn’t know about us,” she’d said, her throaty voice still laced with a trace of Brazil. She’d taken his hand. “Besides, it’ll make it more bearable.”
She wasn’t wrong.
They’d been having an affair for over a year. Or rather, they’d rekindled something that had started long before either of them had gotten married.
It was madness.
After Val died, Pat had never expected to find love again. He wasn’t even sure he wanted to. But that was before he’d bumped into Astrid.
She and Richard had been friends of his and Val’s once. They’d had family barbeques together when the kids were toddlers but had lost touch over the years. The Navy had kept Pat away, and Richard had been too focused on building his mining empire in Mexico and Central America to notice what was right in front of him.
Val had always suspected there was more to Pat and Astrid’s friendship than he let on. But, in true Val style, she’d never confronted him about it, never demanded answers. She’d trusted that whatever it was, was over and he never gave her any reason to doubt him.
Their marriage had been good—until it wasn’t. Until cancer took everything from them in a slow, cruel battle. He’d been devastated, but he’d put a brave face on for Joe, who had just enlisted as an infantryman in the Ordnance Corps.
After the funeral, Joe had deployed overseas, leaving him alone with his grief. That’s when he’d reconnected with Astrid.
At first, she was a shoulder to cry on and a friend to get drunk with. She didn’t mind if he drowned his sorrows and passed out on her couch. But then … she became something else. Something more.
She was stunning. Ageless. A former supermodel with bright blue eyes and a sharper mind than most men he knew. She made him feel alive again. Then one night, it just… happened.
He’d stopped her in the kitchen, caught her wrist as she brushed past. “I’m in love with you.”
Three simple words.
She’d looked at him—and he knew she felt the same way.
They’d made love on the rug in the living room beside the fireplace. It was magical. He couldn’t believe he’d found someone he cared about as much as Val, someone he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.
After that, they were inseparable, except for the times when her husband came back. Richard wasn’t a mean man, but he was selfish. He put his company before his family, and for ten months out of every year he lived in Mexico.
“Leave him,” Pat told her one day, running his fingers through her dark, glossy hair. “I can take care of you and Izzy.”
Tears had filled her eyes, but she’d nodded. “Yes. I think it’s time. I’ll tell him once Izzy’s gone back to school.”
She never got the chance.
That cold December night, Richard figured it out.
Pat had expected anger. A punch. Hell, a goddamn brawl. But nothing could have prepared him for what came next.
“How long has it been going on?” Richard had demanded.
“Over a year,” Astrid admitted. “We love each other. I was going to tell you after Christmas… I didn’t want to ruin the holiday.”
“You mean when I was safely back in Mexico?”
“No. When Izzy was back at college. I’m sorry, Richard, but what did you expect? You’re never here. You left us. I was lonely.”
“And Pat was conveniently around, was he?”
At that point, Pat had gone into the kitchen. “Look, buddy. If you’ll let me explain.”
Richard had turned on him. “I’m not your buddy, and I want you to get out of my house.”
Pat had stood his ground. “It’s not her fault. It’s not anyone’s fault. We didn’t plan it this way. It just happened.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“It’s true,” Astrid interjected, tearing up. “I was in love with Pat long before I met you. I tried to give our marriage a chance, I really did, but you abandoned us. Somehow, Pat and I, we found our way back to each other.”
Pat went to stand beside her. “It’s true. We knew each other a long time ago.”
Richard glanced at his wife, and then at Pat. A long moment passed. “That’s why she has dark eyes, isn’t it?”
Astrid froze, like she’d been turned to stone.
Pat frowned. “What?”
Richard’s hands curled into fists. “You told me it was a genetic mutation, but it’s not. Is it?”
Astrid whispered, “Richard…don’t.”
He pointed at Pat. “She’s his, isn’t she?”
Silence.
Pat’s heart pounded in his ears. “Astrid, what the hell is he talking about?”
Her voice cracked. “I’m so sorry, Pat. I wanted to tell you a thousand times but… Izzy is yours. I was pregnant when I met Richard.”
Pat staggered back like he’d been punched in the gut.
Holy fuck.
“You should have told me,” he rasped.
Her voice was raw. “Why? What difference would it have made? By the time I found out, I had already met Richard. It would only have made things messy.”
Richard slammed his fist against the countertop, making Astrid flinch. “You lied to me all this time. I’ve raised another man’s child, put her through college.”
“Whoa! She did what she thought was best for Izzy,” Pat cut in, not liking Richard’s sudden show of aggression.
“Get out,” Richard snapped. “Get out of my house. Now.”
Pat looked to Astrid. “Are you okay?”
Her voice was a whisper. “I’m fine. You’d better go. I’ll call you later.”
Pat hesitated. Richard looked ready to explode. “You’re sure?”
“I’m sure. I need to talk this out with Richard.”
Pat nodded and walked out of the kitchen. He got into his car and drove the short distance home, his heart racing.
He had a daughter. A grown-up daughter.
Izzy.
Two hours later, he got a call from the police—Astrid had been in a car accident and was pronounced dead at the scene.
For the second time in his adult life, his world fell apart.