At one time, the entire team had lived here, including Isabel. She’d had the large room at the end of the hall with the biggest bathroom, since she was the only woman on the team. Since then, Lucas, Gabriel, and Isabel and Ethan had all married and moved out to the suburbs of D.C. Zach and Sully were the only ones left. They still kept the others’ rooms set up as bedrooms for anyone who might be visiting, or anyone who needed an extra level of protection.
There was a common area with a luxurious couch and big screen TV, as well as a fully stocked chef's kitchen with a bar and high stools around it. A top-notch coffee maker sat on the counter, as well as a more complicated espresso machine. Sully was the king of coffee. It had become an art form for him. Which was a testament to how much he must like Maggie, since he drank the sludge at the diner so often. It definitely wasn't the coffee that kept bringing him around.
Sully took Maggie to Ethan's room, while Zach showed Quita to Isabel's.
"There should be clothes in the closet there, and in the dresser. Bathroom is in here, fully stocked with toiletries. I'm sorry you lost your things. Again."
Quita waved him off. "It's become routine by this point. It wasn't like I'd had time to get attached to them." She smiled sadly. "Fortunately, my new purse was slung across my shoulder when we climbed out the window, so I have my makeup with me, at least."
Zach watched as she pulled open the top drawer of the dresser, pulling something out and tucking it under her arm. She opened the second drawer and brought out what looked like pajamas.
Suddenly, she stopped and looked at him. He had propped himself up against the wall near the closet. She walked slowly towards him, and then, as if it were the most normal thing ever, she wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head on his chest.
Zach's arms went around her, pulling her closer to him. He breathed in the smell of her hair, loving the underlying scent of her shampoo beyond the smoke.
"I'm scared," she whispered, her voice muffled.
"I won't let anything happen to you."
"You can't promise that."
"I can. I won't leave your side until we figure out what's going on. I promise."
Quita squeezed him more tightly, and something in the middle of his chest clenched. His feelings for this woman had grown exponentially over the last few months, ever since their time in Vegas. Even apart, he'd grown fonder of her. She was never far from his thoughts. Could he keep her safe? Could he give her what she needed? Could he love her?
Quita lifted her eyes to his. He couldn't help himself. He bent down and placed a soft kiss on her lips. Her eyes closed, and she sighed softly against his mouth.
"You're exhausted. Get some rest."
Quita smiled sweetly and then released him.
"Thank you, Zach. For saving me. For trusting me. I don't deserve it."
"Doesn't everyone deserve a friend?"
* * * *
Did everyone deserve a friend?
Quita hoped so, because she certainly needed one—although the feelings she had for Zach went beyond friendship. Friends didn't want to kiss each other senseless. Did they? Did friends imagine themselves touching, tasting, feeling each other?
Quita ran a bath, too tired to stand under a shower, and sank into the bubbly steam. At one time, she'd had lots of friends. People who’d wanted to be near her, be seen with her. Her father had had the ear of some very important people. Power: that's what they'd had. As a young girl and into her teenage years, she hadn't immediately recognized it for what it was—not until it was gone. With her father’s death went their power. And her friends.
She understood that they hadn't been true friends, not if they hadn't weathered the storm with her. And in their defense, they hadn't known how to be friends with someone whose world—the only world they'd ever known—had completely crumbled, leaving only a shell in its place. Everything had changed after that night. The night her father was murdered.
Tears stung her eyes, and Quita stood, wrapping a towel around her body, then slipping on the pajamas she'd borrowed from Isabel. She didn't feel like drying her hair, so she wrapped it in the towel to keep her pillow from getting wet. Sliding under the covers, she closed her eyes and let sleep overtake her.
* * * *
Quita woke late that morning. The team was supposed to meet at nine, but when she checked the clock, she saw that it was already ten. She'd missed the meeting.
Scrambling out of bed, she walked briskly into the kitchen for some coffee before she brushed her teeth and hurriedly put on some clothes. When she reached the living room, she stopped. Maggie was sitting there with a young woman with bright red hair. She was beautiful, with the greenest eyes Quita had ever seen, and a smattering of freckles across her nose.
Maggie jumped up. "Hey! How'd you sleep, hon?"
"Good. How about you?"
"Not so great. I kept thinking about my house."
"I’m so sorry, Maggie. If it wasn't for me—"
"Don't you dare do that! This is not your fault. It's the fault of the thugs that torched my house. Not yours. Understand?"
Maggie had one hand on her hip and was pointing her finger at Quita. It was kind of comical, considering that Maggie barely hit five feet tall and probably weighed a hundred pounds soaking wet. What was that saying? That dynamite came in small packages? It was certainly true where Maggie was concerned.
"Yes, ma'am."
"And don't get smart with me, either," Maggie said, narrowing her eyes.
Quita held up her hands in defense. "I wouldn't dream of it."
"Good. Now get some coffee, and come over here and join us." She looked at the woman on the couch and then back at Quita. "Oh, where are my manners? Quita, this is Scarlett."
"Nice to meet you," Scarlett said.
"You, too," Quita said, and then walked into the kitchen to make another cup of coffee. She chose a bold blend and put the pod into the fancy coffee maker.
"Scarlett is married to Lucas, one of the team members," Maggie said.
"I met him in Vegas," Quita explained. "He's a great guy."
"I think so," Scarlett said, blushing a little as she did so.
"Scarlett used to work with me at the diner. Lucas came in every night, just about, until Scarlett finally decided to give him the time of day. It was so romantic." Maggie had a dreamy look on her face.
"Kind of like what Sully is doing right now?" Scarlett asked.
Maggie rolled her eyes. "Totally different. Lucas was so in love with you. Sully barely tolerates me. We're just friends."
"Keep telling yourself that," Scarlett said. Taking the coffee cup, Quita went into the living room and sat down on one of the comfy couches. Everything was decorated tastefully. Nothing was entirely feminine, but it also didn't scream bachelor pad.
"What? It's true. I can't see Sully ever stopping work long enough to be interested in someone."
"And yet he's there every night, sitting at that table and ogling you."
"He doesn't ogle me. Besides, can you imagine us together? We'd look ridiculous."
"Why is that?" Quita asked.
"I’m five foot nothing. He's like six foot four. It would be like the giant and the midget at a sideshow circus act. They'd sell tickets to come see us."
"Well, at least you wouldn't go hungry," Scarlett said, laughing.
It felt good to sit here with two women and talk about trivial things. Just three women enjoying each other's company. It had been way too long.
"Do you have any family?" Scarlett asked.
"Yes, my mom. My dad died when I was in high school, and I'm an only child."
"I'm sorry to hear about your dad."
Quita shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "It was a long time ago."
"Still. It's always painful to lose someone. My parents died when I was in high school, too. It's just me and my sister now."
Quita looked into the eyes of someone who understood the pain of losing a parent. She'd lost one, but was still blessed to have h
er mom around. Scarlett had no one except her sister. Life was hard.
"I'm sorry."
"Like you said, it was a long time ago. Doesn't take away the pain, but the daily struggle with it lessens, somehow, over time."
The elevator doors opened, and Zach, Sully, and Lucas walked through. They were an imposing view. Their height and muscles were intimidating enough, but the hard look in their eyes—the look that said they'd seen things, done things—was the real kicker.
Lucas's eyes lit up as soon as he saw his wife. He rushed over and picked her up, wrapping his arms around her tightly.
Sully stood awkwardly to the side, shuffling his feet. It was amusing to see a man, usually so in control of every situation, outwardly uncomfortable because of a tiny sprite of a woman like Maggie.
Maggie sidled up next to him and, with a flirtatious grin, said, "Hey, big boy. Miss me?"
Sully's cheeks reddened, and Quita nearly burst out laughing.
His reply was a grunt. It was up for debate whether that meant he’d missed her or not.
Zach pulled Quita aside.
"Did you get some rest?" He pushed back a lock of her hair, and she remembered she'd slept with her hair in a towel. She must look like Frankenstein's bride. Quita patted her hair down, feeling the kinks and waves that had no rhyme or reason to them.
Zach smiled at her attempts. "I’m afraid it's hopeless, babe."
She turned to flee, but he reached out and stopped her.
"I like it."
Quita rolled her eyes but decided she'd let it go for now.
"To answer your question, yes, the rest was much needed. I didn't mean to oversleep."
He shrugged. "You and Maggie were both out when we knocked on your doors. When no one answered, we figured you needed your sleep. There wasn't much to report, anyway. We still don't know how they found you."
"Have you been able to break the encryption on the files yet?"
Zach shook his head. "Not yet. Almost. A few more hours, and I'll be in."
Quita wondered if, when he did break in, that would be the end of their friendship.
"I need to get ready, and I need to make a phone call."
"Who are you calling?"
"Just someone important to me. I'll be out in half an hour."
Quita reached out and squeezed Zach's hand, then walked away. When she got to her room, she pulled out her new phone and dialed the number for her mom. It was eleven a.m. on the East Coast, eight a.m. her mom's time. Hopefully, she was having a good day and was already up.
The phone rang several times before her mother finally answered.
"Hello?" she asked warily.
"Mom?"
"Oh, love! I was so worried about you. Where are you? Are you ok?" Her mom's Irish lilt was music to Quita's ears.
Tears sprang up, emotion clawing at her throat. She blinked, and they ran down her cheeks as if one set were racing the other. It was so good to hear her mom's voice.
"I’m ok. How are you feeling? Is it working this time?"
"I'm good, love. Feeling much better. I think it is working. I have more energy than I've had in months." Her mom coughed, and Quita stiffened. The cough didn't sound wet like it did last time, though, so maybe it was just a cold. "When are you coming home, dear?"
"I'm not sure, mom. I'm not in New York anymore. I'm in D.C. with a friend."
"Oh, that's so nice to hear that you have a friend. What's her name? How did you meet her?"
"Well, it's not a girl. It's a guy. Zach Harper. I met him in Vegas. Remember I told you about him?"
"Yes, that nice fellow who helped you when you fell and broke your arm."
Quita's mom didn't know the real story of how she and Zach had met. Alannah Flores was a strong woman, but there was a lot that Quita had kept from her. Right now, Alannah needed to focus on herself.
"Yes, that's the one. Anyway, we ran into each other, and he invited me down to stay with him and some friends. I met them in Vegas, too. I have my own room, and I'm hoping to get a job at a diner where one of my new friends works."
Quita hadn't mentioned this to Maggie yet. But she hoped that the diner needed some help. It would be nice to work with a friend.
"That's wonderful news. I’m proud of you." Her mother's voice turned soft, and those damn tears returned with a vengeance.
"I love you," her mom said, and Quita could tell that she was choking back tears as well.
Quita let hers fall, mourning the life they'd once had. Grieving for her father. Crying at the homesickness she felt. One of these days, she'd get that life back. A happy life filled with people who loved her, and whom she loved as well.
"I love you, too."
Chapter 9
Zach was standing outside Quita's door, his hand raised to knock, when he heard her whisper the words, "I love you, too." He could tell she was crying, her voice thickened with tears. Whom was she talking to? Someone important to her. A boyfriend? A lover?
Zach realized he knew very little about Quita—her family, her past. Who was this person who was so important to her? His heart broke at the thought of her loving someone else. It wasn't that he had any hold on her. He couldn't have her. But he'd be damned if he wasn't angry that someone else could.
Angry at her for loving someone else. It was irrational, sure. But there it was, all the same.
He waited several seconds before knocking.
"Just a second," she called out. He could hear her clearing her throat, and then she opened the door.
All thoughts of anger fled when he saw her face. It showed utter despair. He rushed to her, pulling her to him. The dam broke, and she sobbed against him, wetting his shirt with her tears. He held her as she cried, patting her back and whispering comforting words in her ear. He stroked her hair, placing a kiss on the top of her head every so often.
After a couple of minutes, her tears slowed, and she pulled away, wiping her eyes.
"I'm sorry," she started.
"Don't apologize. Are you ok?"
"Yeah, I'm just tired, I think. It's been a rough few days." She laughed sarcastically. "It's been a rough few years."
"Want to talk about it?"
She shook her head. "Not really. But thanks for letting me cry on you." A blush touched her cheeks. "I messed up your shirt."
He looked down at his blue t-shirt, seeing the tear stains soaking the front. He smiled. "No worries. I don't mind a little snot."
She gave him only a weak laugh, but it was better than the tears.
"Who were you talking to?" he asked.
Fear pulled her expression tight, her eyes pinching together slightly.
"Oh, um, no one. Just someone I know."
Zach held back his eye roll. "Well, I figured it was someone you know. A boyfriend?"
"What?" She seemed completely confused. "No. It wasn't a boyfriend." She sounded exasperated, as if that were the craziest thing she'd ever heard. But if it wasn't a boyfriend, who could it be?
"I still need to get dressed. Meet you downstairs in fifteen minutes?"
Zach knew when someone was trying to get rid of him, and she was definitely trying to get rid of him. Fine. He wouldn't argue about it now. She was obviously upset, and he didn't want to upset her more.
"Yeah, sure. Are you positive you're going to be ok?"
She smiled, and this time, the smile met her eyes and changed her whole face. "Yes. Thank you, Zach. For being there for me. For everything."
The genuineness of her words melted his heart. With a nod, he closed the door behind him and set off for the conference room.
* * * *
Zach sat at the conference table, the encryption code sitting before him. He was so close. He could smell success just right around the corner. He fully anticipated that by the end of the day, they'd have enough information to set the FBI on the right track to take down Tobias Winters's empire. But most importantly, by the end of the day, they'd know the identity of The General.
He
'd been quiet since Gabriel and Cate had infiltrated the escort service and secret sex society he’d been involved with. Once Christy Knox had turned over her information, she'd gone into hiding, and only the Castle team knew where she was. They knew too much, and The General had been too quiet, in Zach's opinion.
The closer they got to his identity, the more Zach worried. The General had his hands in all kinds of pies. If he wanted the Castle team to go down, it would be hard to stop him. Zach thought that for now, he was lying low, feeling them out. And so Zach had had to be careful with the feelers he'd been putting out to try to uncover his identity. The files they’d gotten from Bruno should take the guesswork out of it for them.
A noise made Zach look up from his computer. Quita stood in the doorway, wearing jeans that fit like a glove and a t-shirt that was a bit snug in the chest. She tugged at it self-consciously.
"I’m a little more, um, endowed than Isabel."
"Rub it in, why don't ya?" Isabel teased good-naturedly from behind her. Quita moved inside and sat next to Zach, allowing Isabel into the room.
"I didn't mean it like that," Quita said.
"I know," Isabel replied, waving her hands in front of her and brushing the comments off. "I'm just teasing. I am jealous, though. Not many women have your curves."
"I get them from my dad's side," Quita said. "He was from Argentina."
Zach paused for a moment, realizing that he knew very little about Quita's family.
"And your mom?" he asked, genuinely interested.
"She's from Ireland. They met here in the US while they were in college. Both of them were on student visas. They met, fell in love, and, three months later, got married. Although it took a lot longer to figure out the legal aspects, they found a minister who would marry them so that they could live together. My mom was very old-fashioned like that."
"That is such a beautiful story," Isabel said.
"They were very much in love."
"Were?" Isabel asked, sadness already visible on her face.
"My dad died when I was in high school."
"I'm so sorry to hear that."
"And your mom?" Zach asked, hope rising within him.
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