Chapter 2
B eth Parker braced her hands on the glass bakery counter. “You gave my cake to someone else? It’s only a half hour past the time I said I’d pick it up.”
Well, it was ninety minutes past the time Beth had wanted to pick it up, but the network in her lab at the National Agency for Health had been down half the day—again—and had royally screwed up her schedule. She needed that damn cake, but yelling at the teen behind the counter who kept glancing at her phone wouldn’t do any good.
Counting to five in her head, Beth clung to the last of her patience. “Maybe there was a mix-up. I’m here to pick up a vanilla pound cake with strawberry filling, red flowers, and silver-dusted buttercream frosting. It’s for an engagement party.”
More like a let’s celebrate your impending nuptials while the groom-to-be is between deadly missions kind of celebration.
Beth shivered. The sudden chill had nothing to do with the deep freeze blanketing the Washington, DC area and everything to do with her best friend marrying a literal super soldier. Scarlett, and Beth as her supporting bestie, didn’t take a full breath whenever Chris and his Project VIPER teammates deployed. Today had been a hard-to-breathe kind of day until they’d gotten word that the VIPER boys had returned safe and sound from their latest assignment.
What kind of assignment, she had no idea. Scarlett knew most of the details since she used to be Project VIPER’s chief information security officer and now headed up technology innovation across the military. She wasn’t at liberty to share what the guys did when the Department of Defense called them away at a moment’s notice, and Beth didn’t want to know.
The military hadn’t given them sleek, black artificial limbs that looked like they belonged on sci-fi superheroes for goodwill reasons. According to the public, the Department of Defense established the Veterans Integration Placement and Recovery Program to give special forces amputees a second chance at their military careers in security detail roles.
Security detail, my ass.
Last week, when she’d met Scarlett and the VIPER boys for dinner, the waitstaff was scrambling to move a massive table set for twelve. Chris and Nic had lifted it like it was a piece of children’s furniture set for a tea party. The waitress had been so appreciative of Nic’s bionic arm, she’d slipped him her number.
No, super arm. Super is what Scarlett said the VIPER boys liked to call the technological marvels they’d been outfitted with. And damn, they were a marvel to witness. They moved their enhanced parts more gracefully than she managed her flesh-and-bone ones.
According to Scarlett, the bionic limbs were permanently attached to their bodies. No straps. No harnesses. A seamless melding of steel and flesh that was beautiful and tragic at the same time. Beth spent many nights wondering what the marriage of man and machine looked like underneath their clothes.
Well, what it looked like under the clothes of one VIPER boy in particular. That had to stop.
The teen chomped on her gum as she opened a binder on the counter and leafed through it. “Red flowers, you say?” She eyed Beth’s glittery silver nail polish. “And metallic dusting because you obviously like bling. And I love your coat. It twinkled like fifty shades of purple under the streetlights when you walked in.”
“Thanks.” Beth ran her fingers over the faux fur cuff. “Now, about my cake.”
“Oh, I remember now. How could I forget? My boss gave it to your husband a few minutes ago.”
Beth slammed her palms onto the glass countertop. “My what ?”
The color drained from the teen’s face as she retreated. “You, uh, didn’t send your husband to get it?”
Unease skated down Beth’s spine as she swung her head to the door.
He’s not here. I’m safe.
The emptiness and her affirming mantra didn’t stop anxiety from rippling toward full-blown alarm. “I don’t have a husband. I don’t even have a boyfriend. Who the hell did you give my cake to?”
The teen backed through a door. “Uh, let me get my boss.”
Beth nodded, afraid if she opened her mouth, she’d beg the teen not to leave her alone in the empty storefront. “He’s not here. I’m safe.” She whispered it again as she dipped her hand into her enormous tote bag and wrapped her fingers around the small pistol at the bottom. The security of the warm metal grounded her but didn’t stop the past from hammering at her resolve not to hide behind the counter and cry.
Fighting the rising panic, she scanned the small bakery.
The busy sidewalk.
The crowded parking lot beyond.
Nothing out of the ordinary. Just shoppers and a weary donation-collecting Santa.
Pushing trapped air out of her lungs, she trained one eye on the entrance, the other on the door the teen had disappeared through and sang along with the Christmas song playing overhead. Her grip on the gun didn’t lessen any with the distraction technique she’d learned from her therapist.
A chorus later, a woman who appeared to be around the same age as Beth emerged from the back of the bakery. “Hi, I’m Angie.” She dusted her hands on her apron and smiled. “I’m the owner. My apologies for giving your cake to the wrong person. The man knew your name, though.”
Beth’s pulse pounded as fast as the sweat forming on the back of her neck. The lack of an imminent threat didn’t stop her fears from vaulting her into the past.
No. She tugged at the ends of her curls. He’d never shown himself before. Why start now? This was just a misunderstanding. Or maybe the bakery’s computers had been hacked by a criminal trying to steal credit card information and someone took a liking to her cake order.
God, that last bit sounded stupid, but she couldn’t live with the scenario she feared. There had to be a reasonable explanation. “Did my alleged husband know anything else about me?”
“He knew what type of cake it was. The occasion. The names on the cake. The address and the phone number on the order form. He even mentioned that you’d gotten a cake here a few months ago for your twenty-eighth birthday.”
Beth’s pulse rang in her ears like a gunshot with every piece of information Angie rattled off. She clutched her gun tighter. “What did he look like?”
“Tall, dark, and sexy, from what I could tell underneath his sunglasses and ski hat. And he thanked me in the sexiest Spanish accent.”
Beth relaxed her grip on the gun a smidge. Could it have been Nic? He fit Angie’s dark and handsome description and excelled at making women blush when he spoke Spanish. She’d asked him to pick up beer for the party. Maybe he’d decided to grab the cake too. “Did you notice anything unusual about the cake stealer? Anything identifying?”
Like a black bionic hand?
“No, nothing unusual.”
Beth tightened her fingers around the gun again. It couldn’t have been Nic. His mechanical fingers were hard to miss, and he wouldn’t have said he was her husband and missed the chance to hit on the gorgeous redhead.
Angie pointed to the glass-front refrigerator on the far wall. “I’m happy to give you a full refund and a new cake free of charge, of course. I’m afraid it will have to be a plain white sheet cake because that’s all we have left, but I can decorate it with the flowers and sprinkles that you ordered.”
“Fine.” Beth eyed the binder on the counter. “Do you always keep that out in the open?”
Angie picked it up. “No. It belongs underneath, but sometimes, if we’re busy, like today, it doesn’t get put away.”
Beth let go of the gun and pulled her hand from her bag. Some cheapskate must have peeked at the order forms in the binder and randomly chosen her cake to swipe. She clung to that explanation. Considering the other scenario wasn’t an option.
It had been two years of silence from the man who’d terrorized her. Two years of fighting for control. The affirming words she repeated helped when she felt threatened but didn’t completely ease her anxiety. Nothing ever would.
As she pulled up the messages on her phone, tension ebbed from her body.
No disturbing texts.
No threatening emails.
Nothing to indicate he was back.
The hum of an engine snapped her head up. A black SUV backed out of the parking spot directly in front of the shop. As it drove away, her compact sedan came into view.
The phone slid from her grip. She clamped her other hand over her mouth, but the terrified edges of her scream tore through. The cake she ordered sat on the top of the hood. Its silver-dusted frosting twinkled under the streetlight.
Angie ran to her side. “Are you okay?”
Beth ignored her as she picked up her phone. Her fingers trembled as she dialed the second person who came to mind who could help. She had to stay far, far away from the first.