JAMES
TEN
I know how to survive monsters. I have no defense against wanting something beautiful.
I have never enjoyed small talk, not when my upbringing involved processing the actions of an evil man in order to survive.
Extra noise has always been unwelcome. But listening to Stephanie put the world to rights in a unique way that makes complete sense is a humbling experience.
I could listen to her throaty laugh on repeat.
It’s the kind of sound that pierces my icy heart, not a practiced giggle to entice.
She doesn’t care how she sounds or if it’s attractive. It’s raw and honest.
She spins in a circle to take in the unassuming sitting room, with the charcoal curved sofa dominating the space placed in front of a TV mounted on the wall.
There are no knickknacks, nothing that personalizes the space.
It’s not witness protection in the strictest sense; it’s a short-term solution for when someone’s life is in danger.
Nailing Christopher to the wall is my top priority to give this beauty her life back.
She stalks through the archway into the tiny kitchen. “You guys need to stock the refrigerator with snacks,” she calls out.
I fold my arms and smirk. Between her musings about everything from the state of politics to the price of bread, she devoured an insane amount of snacks.
“We have the local grocery store delivering later today,” Camryn says from her perch on the only armchair. “You need to add what you want.”
Stephanie reappears and smiles at the agent. “You’re the agent in charge of him, right?” she asks, jerking her head toward me.
“That’s right.”
“And yet he defied you and scooped me up.”
She heard that? Clever vixen. I play with the name in my mind, finding that it fits her.
Camryn’s gaze sharpens as she glares at me. “In charge doesn’t always equate to in control of.”
“So you disagree with the level of threat?” Stephanie asks as she drops onto the sofa.
I lean against the wall and dare Camryn to say differently.
“Not necessarily.”
“Then I can only deduce you were using me as bait without my permission,” Stephanie states.
Camryn sighs. “I’m going to level with you, Miss King.”
“Stephanie,” she corrects.
Camryn doesn’t smile at the offer of familiarity. “Stephanie. We had eyes on you and would have extracted you later today, tomorrow at the worst. But I needed time to set up the safe house and decide how best to play your disappearance. I don’t want to scare Christopher off.”
“Not likely,” I mutter. “If anything, this will have excited him. Men who think they’re untouchable are, in fact, the most vulnerable.”
“Meaning your little abduction has placed me in more danger,” Stephanie states.
Remind me never to play word games with this woman.
“No,” Camryn defends. “This is the best place for you. Only a few select agents attached to the operation know you’re even here.”
“He knows,” Stephanie points at me.
“He’s the crucial component in the operation. Of course he knows.”
“Would he have known if you’d kidnapped me?”
Does she not trust me? It’s a fair position. I’m not a nice man, and I don’t pretend otherwise.
“No.” Camryn puts her hand up as Stephanie opens her mouth.
“I’m not finished, Stephanie. James is the ultimate insider.
In a few short months, he’s been instrumental in removing numerous players that we’ve been tracking and attempting to take down for years.
You are, for all intents and purposes, his sister-in-law.
I have no qualms about him knowing where you are because he’s already shown he would risk my wrath to protect you.
And I am the woman who can, at the snap of my fingers, yank his ass to prison, never again to see the light of day.
There will be no trial, no judge, and no jury.
He has as much to lose as anyone, more so. ”
Stephanie’s eyes find mine, and I see her shed a layer of the walls she has built around herself over the years. No, don’t soften for me. I am not the man for you. Maybe in another life, but not in this one, when we’re both products of the evil in the world.
“Who else is coming?” I check.
“Thompson and two other agents,” Camryn explains.
Thompson, I trust. “Who are the others?” I demand, pulling out my phone.
“Agent Fiona Harris and Agent Patrick Henry.”
I shoot my sister the names, asking her to do a deep dive on them. I already know the cult has links to powerful politicians. We have to be careful with every person brought in.
“Two teams switching out?” I check.
“That’s right,” Camryn says. “They’ll be here early in the morning. I had to pull them off surveillance.”
I don’t care where she’s pulled them from. “I’ll stay until then,” I tell her.
Stephanie’s shoulders tense. I get she wants me out of her space as soon as possible, but not at the cost of her safety. She’ll have to just suck it up.
Stephanie yawns.
Camryn stands and grabs the handles of Stephanie’s duffel bag. “I’ll show you to your room.”
“Thanks,” Stephanie mumbles as she follows Camryn up the stairs. She spares me a last glance over her shoulder. “I don’t agree with your methods, but I appreciate you looking out for me, James.”
She’s halfway up the stairs when she asks a question that makes me grit my teeth. “Does my bedroom lock?”
“No,” Camryn answers.
Stephanie sighs. “It’s fine. I’ll be fine.”
Then she’s gone, leaving me turning over her words for far too long.
What does she think I’m going to do? I occupy myself by finding all the security cameras tucked away and checking the security system before I venture into the backyard.
This safe house is on a leafy residential street, secluded enough to ensure the agents can protect and defend, but not so much that would draw attention.
By now, the FBI will have had everything from the local mail carrier to the garbage collection reassigned to make way for their own people who can monitor the street each day.
The locals might register the changes, but these are skilled people.
Camryn is waiting for me in the kitchen as I step through the back door, a mug of coffee in her outstretched hand. I take it, grateful for the pick me up.
“So,” she says with a raise of her brow. “How long have you been in love with the girl?”
I almost choke on my drink. “You’re reading that all wrong.”
“Am I?”
“Yep, she’s the little sister of the man my sister is in love with. She would never forgive me if I let something happen to her.”
“I see,” she says with a smile that communicates her lack of confidence in my assessment. She can think whatever she likes. I’m not capable of loving anyone.
An alarm dings on her phone, and she flicks open the screen. There’s no surprise on her face, so I assume it’s Agent Thompson.
“Backup is here,” she mutters. “And he’s not pleased to be dragged away from his daughter’s fourth birthday party.”
“I beg to differ. A gang of four-year-olds hyped up on cake and sugar is everyone’s nightmare.”
She rolls her eyes but keeps a close check on her phone. The front door opens, and the familiar man comes straight through to the kitchen.
“Followed the scent of coffee that I need more than life,” Agent Thompson grumbles with an unimpressed look my way.
“And you moving up the timeline because you got the heebie-jeebies is not amusing, although you have saved me from a two-day migraine caused by twenty-two four-year-olds and a donkey. Don’t even get me started on the clown that’s going to cause mule nightmares for half the kids. ”
I snort and give Camryn an I told you so look.
“Did we get the food ordered?” he wonders. “I could go for a pizza.”
“No, but Stephanie said she’s easygoing, so to order whatever we like.”
“She loves pasta, especially lasagna, and enjoys a decent home-cooked stir-fry.”
They both blink at me as I reveal the level of detail I know about a woman I shouldn’t even be thinking about. Too late—she’s already in my system. The best thing I can do for her continued safety is to get as far away from her as I can.
Tomorrow when she wakes, I’ll be in the wind, a shadow stalking the evil hunting her. Christopher Burnside has picked the wrong woman to mess with this time. She’ll be the last he ever lusts after. This ends now.
The food arrived hours ago, but Stephanie hasn’t left her bedroom since. Camryn has checked on her a few times, making sure she hasn’t snuck out.
Agent Thompson disappeared to walk the neighbourhood, and we’re still waiting for the other two to arrive before I can leave. I have the TV on silent, set to a recent romcom of all things. Enough to keep my brain alert for anything unusual.
My phone vibrates. I slide it free and scan the email from my sister, who has done a preliminary background search on the other agents. Nothing has raised any red flags, but she’s going to go a little deeper over the next few days.
“Anything I need to know?” Camryn asks as she puts another cup of coffee on the table in front of me. At this point, I’m composed of about ninety-nine percent caffeine, and it’s not even the good stuff.
“No, just my sister checking in.”
Camryn drops into the armchair opposite me, tucking her red hair into a low ponytail.
I note the tightness around her eyes, the slight dark circles making an appearance as her makeup fades.
She needs to look after herself better to be on top of her game.
Maybe a spa day, or something. That’s what women do for self-care, right? How the hell would I know?
The stairs creak, and our heads swivel to watch Stephanie appear in the doorway.
She’s wearing a white ruffled nightgown that teases her curves beneath the fine fabric and looks like it belongs in some raunchy period drama.
She blinks at the wall and twists a lock of her hair between her fingers before dropping her eyes to the floor.
What’s wrong with her?
“Stephanie?” I say.
She turns her head to give me her pretty eyes, but they don’t see me, not really.
“James, you’re here again. Why do you haunt me every time I close my eyes?” she utters as she comes closer.
I haunt her? She has no idea how she taunts me.
“I never left.”
She stops in front of me, and in a blink, she’s straddling my lap. My hands grip her waist on instinct. “But you did leave,” she whispers as she plays with the hair on my nape.
I glance at Camryn for help. She leans back in her chair with a frown. Not going to help. Got it.
“You held me up in my darkest hour, and then in the aftermath, you left.”
“Can we have this conversation without you on my lap?”
She pouts, and it would be cute if I wasn’t freaking out about her weird-ass behavior. “But, like magic, you’ll leave me again. If I don’t hold on to you, you’ll disappear. I needed you.”
“Again, let’s discuss when you are not on my lap.”
The vixen grinds down and gasps. Holy shit, this is not on my bingo card. “Stephanie,” I snap. “Stop.”
“You never stay to play. I want to know what you feel like, whether I’m still whole inside. Can you do that for me? See what’s inside?”
I’d like to think this is a metaphor, but I doubt it with the way her nipples have hardened underneath the fabric.
“James,” Camryn says, demanding my attention.
“What?”
“I think she’s sleepwalking.”
She stands and comes around to be in Stephanie’s eyeline. It’s as if she doesn’t exist.
“I agree, but now what?”
“Er, you aren’t meant to wake them, right?”
“I have no idea, Agent. You’re the psychology expert here.”
Camryn snaps her fingers in front of Stephanie’s face. No reaction. Is this why she wanted a lock on the door? The thought that she doesn’t find me dangerous shouldn’t give me this amount of joy, but alas, here we are.
The front door opens, and Agent Thompson freezes. “What the fuck are you doing?” he growls. He’s moving before we can stop him and lifting Stephanie off my lap with an impressive amount of strength.
Stephanie screams in terror, and she loses her shit. Biting, scratching, kicking the clueless agent as she battles her nightmares.
I leap to my feet and come between them, catching her wrists in a gentle grip. “Eyes on me,” I demand. She calms instantly. It’s creepy.
“James?” she blinks, and her vision focuses on me and not whatever is going on in her head. She’s back.
“Yep, I’m here.”
She shakes her head and grimaces. “I’m sorry. I did it again. I thought I’d stopped. I hope I didn’t do anything embarrassing?”
“Nope. You attacked poor Agent Thompson, but he’ll be fine.”
She angles her head over my shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ve had worse from my cats.”
“Still not an excuse,” she mumbles.
I silently dare either agent to tell her the extent of what happened. There’s no need for it.
“It’s fine,” he says. “The more important question is who’s up for 3 a.m. pizza?”
Her lips twitch. “I can get behind that.”
Good, she needs to eat something other than junk gas station snacks that are majorly composed of artificial ingredients.
“Pineapple?” he checks.
“Is that even a question?” she asks as I swipe my thumb over her pulse point. She sucks in a breath as I touch the scars that tell the story of her pain and survival. Her mouth pops open as she stares at me in wonder.
That’s right. Every part of you is beautiful.
What I would give to be a different man, one worthy of her. But that’s not the life I’ve been given, so I’ll remain her silent protector.