“All right.” Ryan nods.
“What makes you think the two events are connected?” Jake asks.
I watch with rapt attention as Rick folds Cara into his arms while he sits on the arm of the sofa where she’s sitting. The move is intimate and familiar, and I wonder how long this has been going on. It was clear months ago that they knew each other, but I was always under the impression that Rick hated her, and poor Cara just seemed so… sad. There’s clearly more here than meets the eye.
“Nine years ago, Cara and I were married,” Rick says to the room. Grace and Jake’s faces are both carefully blank. They obviously knew the big secret.
“What?” The word falls from my lips before I can stop it, and I feel my eyes go wide at this news. Holy shit. I look back, over my shoulder, and my eyes land on Ryan.
“And nine years ago, Cara left me when Jake and I were deployed.” Ryan’s eyes narrow on Cara for a split second. His judgement is evident, and he’s clearly not impressed with the way she treated a brother in arms.
“Ouch,” Grace whispers.
“She was blackmailed,” Rick adds.
“What?” Jake barks out.
“I was sent pictures of Rick overseas and told that if I didn’t leave him, he would die by friendly fire that night,” she answers quietly. Oh shit shit. I’m not sure I wouldn’t have done the same thing in that situation to protect someone I loved. My respect for Cara ratchets up more than a few notches.
“So you left,” Jake adds.
“Yes.”
“To protect Donovan,” Ryan adds, and I can see by the way his face softens that he’s changed his opinion of her.
“Yes,” she confirms his assumptions.
“When was this?” Jake asks.
“March,” Rick and Cara reply at the same time.
“About when we were assigned to the cartel op?” Jake asks with a raised brow.
“The one and the same,” Rick growls.
“Well,” Jake says, steepling his fingers together. “That is interesting.”
“That’s what I thought,” Rick says casually, making Captain Black lose his patience.
“Care to share with the fucking class?” Ryan barks.
“Yes,” Jake says with a smile, clearly enjoying riling up his aide. “As you know, Rick and I were on the same SEAL team. On one deployment, we were presented with an off-the-books mission. It seemed… off. But we were young and dumb and weren’t necessarily in the market to question orders that came from way above our pay grade.”
“Or we would have, if I hadn’t been on a one-man suicide mission,” Rick adds, making Cara let out a pained gasp.
“No,” she whispers.
“I was pretty messed up after my wife left me,” he says. “I jumped at any mission they gave me. It didn’t matter how dangerous. And if it seemed like a one-way ticket, even better.”
“Rick—” she starts, but they aren’t going to give her the time to fall into her own pit of despair.
“And I was there for my brother,” Jakes inserts. “And I had no intention of running for office when my dad retired.”
“But this one was different,” Rick finishes.
“Different, how?” Ryan asks.
“It didn’t go as planned and people died,” Rick admits.
“And you think this mission is connected?” he asks Rick and Jake.
“Yes,” they both say in unison.
“Why?”
“Because of what the blackmailers mentioned,” Jake says.
Blackmailers? What the fuck is going on here? Now Jake is being blackmailed too? Ryan obviously knows what these two are talking about, and I realize I was cut out of the loop. What fucking bullshit. I’ve been nothing but a team player the entire time, and these macho men cut me out. How can I do my job if they don’t give me the tools to do it?
The only thing keeping me from losing my absolute shit right now is the knowledge that I have to keep it together and stay focused so I can do what needs to be done to help find Rachel. Because in all of this mess, she’s just a little girl caught up in it all, and none of this is her fault.
“They said ‘Old ghosts will rise, and others will pay the price. Pass the bill or pay the price,’” Black recites.
“No,” Rick corrects. “It said the ‘Old Ghost’ as in singular and—”
“My old callsign,” Jake finishes.
“Someone knows way more than they should,” Rick says, sending chills down my spine.
“Who else would know about that op?” Ryan asks.
“We should call Wes and Lee,” Rick adds.
“Just to warn them, but that op was after they got out,” Jake agrees with him.
“I’ll call him now and put it on speakerphone,” Rick suggests, and Jake nods in agreement.
Rick slips his phone out of his pocket and swipes his finger across the glass to unlock it when he types in his code. He selects the phone app and dials in a number by heart before pressing the speakerphone button. The ringing sound fills the room, and we all collectively hold our breath.
“Special Agent O’Connell,” a deep voice answers. Grace and I had met the sexy SAIC and his beautiful detective wife back in New York. I like them both immensely.
“It’s Donovan,” Rick says.
“And Chancey,” Jake says.
“Well why wasn’t I invited to the party?” Wes laughs.
“It’s not so much of a party,” Rick says darkly. “But we’ll get to that in a minute.”
“You wouldn’t be near Goodie’s office, would you?” Jake asks.
“No,” Wes answers. “With Claire on desk duty now that she’s as big as a house, and if you repeat that, I will not only deny ever having said it, but I will help her hide your miserable fucking bodies.”
“So pregnancy agrees with your blushing bride?” Jake laughs.
“No fucking way,” Wes grumbles. “I love her, but she’s a monster.”
“That sounds like how Angie was.” I laugh, thinking of our old college roommate who now lives in East Texas with her husband and adorable daughter.
“I was just thinking the same,” Grace agrees with me.
“So Goodie isn’t around?” Jake asks, bringing the conversation back around.
“No,” Wes says, and I can hear his heavy sigh across the line. There’s clearly a lot going on in New Jersey. “With Claire on desk duty and miserable, he’s having to cover her field work. There’s something heating up in the area that sounds like it might be ready to shift to my office, but I’m actually out of town at the moment working another case. I’ll be happy to pass the word on though.”
“Something has come up here, and it looks like it’s linked to a mission we carried out after you guys got out, but I just wanted to give you the heads up,” Jake says.
“Funny you should mention that,” Wes murmurs, not sounding like it’s funny at all. “The case I’m working on?”
“Yeah?” Rick says.
“I’m in Virgina. Palmer is dead.”
“What?” Rick asks.
“When?” Jake questions.
“It’s recent,” Wes says. “He ate a bullet.”
“Fuck,” Rick bites out. “I didn’t know he was struggling.”
“No one did,” Wes replies. “I had just seen him at Claire’s shower. He seemed fine.”
“I’m sorry,” Rick says. “So fucking sorry.”
“Me too.” Wes sighs. “Anyways, it sounds like there’s more to your story than ‘some shit came up over an old mission.’”
“You’d be right,” Rick says. “Someone kidnapped my daughter after blackmailing my wife.”
“I’ll be at your house in D.C. at nine,” he says and then disconnects.
“Typical Wes,” Rick grumbles, making Jake laugh. “Still calling orders.”
“Looks like the gang is getting back together.” Jake smiles.
“So what now?” Ryan asks.
“I think we need to figure
out who could be behind this,” Jake says.
“And we need a plan to get my daughter back,” Rick growls.
“Oo-rah,” Gus, Joe, and Ryan all shout, startling me a bit. I had forgotten everyone in the room. And Marines are weird.
“I can’t help but feel like this all goes back to getting to the president,” Ryan says. “I don’t know the story as well as you do, but—”
“But what?” Rick asks.
“It all sounds to me like someone is moving the pieces on a chessboard, and it all goes back to the president. I think we need to go way back before they were married. Before Mrs. Donovan was even in the picture.”
“We’re going to need sustenance for that,” I say, clapping my hands together. “Is there any food in this joint?
“The freezer and pantry should be fully stocked,” Rick replies. “I don’t come out here enough to keep perishables in the fridge.”
“Excellent,” I respond and jump up to move into action. Grace struggles under her very pregnant belly to hop up and follow me, but she doesn’t make it.
“Fuck,” she bites out. “Jules, give me a hand or I’ll never get up.”
“Well, why didn’t you say something, darling?” Jakes asks with a twinkle in his eyes before he lifts her up like she weighs nothing at all and sets her on her feet. “There you go.”
“Yes, thank you,” she snaps.
“Cara?” I call her name a few minutes later when I see her wander into the kitchen. She looks lost, and it scares me. “Honey, are you okay?”
“I don’t know,” she says. “They’re kind of scary out there.”
“I think with you they’re more bark than bite.”
“What about with you?” she asks me, making me laugh.
“What about me? I can run with the big boys. I don’t need to be cared for.”
“I came to help with… whatever it is that’s going on in here,” she says, making Grace and me laugh a little. “What am I missing?”
“We were gossiping,” Grace admits.
“I don’t doubt it.” Cara sighs. “Why leave me out? That’s not fair!”
“We were talking about you,” she admits.
“Well, thanks for that.”
“It was all good,” Grace says quickly.
“It was brave what you did,” I say softly.
“Or stupid,” she admits. “I feel like I’ve done nothing but play into their hands. Whoever they are.”
She walks over to the coffee maker and begins to tinker with it. Grace and I both keep an eye on her as she pauses her actions to grip the counter in her hands and let her head fall forward. We stay quiet while she obviously grapples with her composure and control.
And then she just fucking loses it as she grabs the bag of coffee grounds, hurls them across the kitchen, and screams. It’s an eerie fucking sound as she shrieks, and for second, I don’t know what to do.
“Jake!” I hear Grace shout as Cara drops to her knees and slams her hands against the floor and all the mess.
“Ryan! Rick!” I yell as I race for the kitchen door. “Come quick!”
Rick scoops her up into his arms and begins to try to soothe her. I send a look around the room, and everyone files out to give them the privacy they need to deal with her emotional collapse, one that we could all see was coming a mile away.
We stand silently around the old-fashioned living room. No one utters a single word. Poor Cara, so lost in her grief. How would I feel if I was a mother and my only child had been taken? Just as awful, no doubt.
I watch out the corner of my eye as Jake leans into Grace, giving her the comfort that they both need right now. He lays his hand over hers on her round belly, and the moment is so intimate I have to look away. I feel so lost, because these are my people, and I would do anything for them. Yet at the same time, it feels like I no longer have a place within the circle. Everyone has moved on.
After a while, Rick walks down the stairs with a haggard look on his face.
“I’m not sure there’s much else we can do here tonight,” Ryan says from behind me, and I can’t help but agree.
“I agree,” Jake adds. “I think we head back to D.C. and keep our eyes and ears open. Report to the group if anything changes.”
“Agreed,” Rick says.
“Agreed,” Ryan repeats, and I just nod. The men were more having a meeting of the minds anyway. I’ll get my reports to give from Rick and Jake when needed. Otherwise, I just have to mind my Ps and Qs, as they say.
“Let’s go,” Ryan barks, startling me. It would only be more embarrassing, the way he’s ordering me around, if he snapped his fingers at me like I was a dog. His terse command goes a long way to remind me how I got to this delightful little farmhouse earlier this afternoon. Not by choice, but by force.
I narrow my eyes on him, but he doesn’t see, because he’s already turned away and is walking toward the door. Obviously, he feels like I’m going to follow him like a good little puppy.
“We can give you a ride back to D.C. if you’d like,” Grace says softly. I look back over my shoulder to her, and she has a concerned look on her face. I can’t let her worry about me too. That can’t be good for the baby. Besides, we all already have enough to worry about with Cara, Rick, and Rachel.
“Oh, I’ll be fine,” I say, smiling my evil, “I’m up to no good” smile. “It’s not me you should be worried about.”
“Give him hell,” she says, and Jake fakes a cough to hide his laughter, but when he looks at me, I see his eyes are dancing. Gus looks to his feet.
“Don’t worry, I will.”
I hug my friend one last time before looking to the stairs and send up a little prayer that Cara will be all right and that Rachel will be found safe. Then I turn on my heels and follow Ryan’s path through the house, back to the kitchen, and out the back door, where he is waiting for me.
“What took you so long?” he snaps, and I look at him. He’s angry, and I don’t understand why. I’m the one who should be angry, and here he is, still treating me like garbage. I don’t get it.
“I was saying goodbye to my friends,” I answer, even though I don’t really feel like he deserves one. I’m right when the next words out of his mouth follow.
“Those people in there are not your friends.”
“I beg to differ,” I say, rolling my eyes. “I’ve known Grace since college.”
“The Grace you knew is gone, and those people are the leaders of this country,” he says. “They are not your friends, and if you think for one second that you are not expendable when it comes to the safety of this country, you are mistaken.”
He pulls the passenger door open for me, and I slide in just before he slams it closed. I do not turn to him as he walks around and climbs in the driver seat. He does not look at me as he turns the key to start the engine or as he backs out of the old barn and heads back to D.C. In fact, he acts as if I’m not even there the entire two-hour drive back to the city and then on through to my home in Virginia. And I’m all too happy to return the favor. I opt to spend the trip with my arms folded across my chest and my eyes trained straight through the front windshield.
When he pulls into my driveway, I can’t move fast enough as I grapple with the buckle of my seatbelt and snatch up my purse.
“Stay here,” he barks at me, and I see red.
“I don’t think so.”
“I said stay here,” he repeats. “I’ll walk you to your door.”
“I’m a big girl, Captain,” I snark. “I don’t need you to see me to my door.”
“Well I’m going to do it anyways, duchess, so get fucking used to it.”
I barely hold in a scream as he steps down from his door, stomps around to my side, and yanks open my door before hauling my body down from the SUV. Ryan is such a dick, and I wonder not for the first time when I started thinking of him as Ryan and not Captain Black.
He wraps his large hand around my upper arm and practically perp-marches me t
o my front door. I don’t believe this. Who does he think he is, treating me this way? I’ve just pulled my keyring out of my brown leather hobo purse when they are snatched out of my hand, and Ryan expertly selects the key to my front door like he does it every day.
I stand there stunned, and I’m sure my mouth is hanging open as he unlocks the deadbolt and pushes the door open. And then, since I was still standing there in stunned silence, he puts a palm to my belly and gently shoves me through the door.
I’m about to tell him to go straight to hell when he follows me over the threshold and kicks the door shut behind him.
“Are you over your fucking snit?” he asks, and I narrow my eyes on him. What a dick!
“Are you done being an asshole?”
“No,” he answers. “Not fucking likely.”
“Then no, I’m also not over my snit.”
I don’t know who moves first, and likely, I never will. It could have been me, as I jump in his arms, or it could have been Ryan as his arm struck out to grab me. All I know is I’m in his arms with my legs wrapped around his lean hips as he crushes his mouth down on mine.
I don’t hesitate when he opens over me and let him thrust his tongue into my mouth. I dig my fingers through his hair and pull him closer. I can’t get enough, and I hold him to me as tight as I can.
Thanks to my skirt, his hard length presses against the gusset of my panties through the worn, soft denim of his jeans, and the feeling sends an electric current through my body. I rock my hips against him, needing more, more, more, and he grips my ass tight in his hands as he groans into my mouth.
Ryan dips his hand down the back of my panties to between my thighs. He circles my opening with a finger, just barely grazing my clit with each pass. I tip my ass back, needing his fingers on me, which takes me away from his cock, but he’s so good with his fingers that it doesn’t disappoint when he dips just the tip of one inside me on a pass.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he bites out. “My prissy duchess is wet for me.”
“Yes,” I pant as I reach my hips back for more while I slip my arms between us and unbuckle his belt.
“Fucking drenched for me.”
I get half the buttons down on his fly before I give up and reach inside. I wrap my hand around his thickness and barely register as he curses I’m so intent on my goal, and I pull his cock free. It’s long and hard and thick, and I want it. I pump him in my hand, wanting him to feel as crazed and as far gone as I am.
The Press Secretary's Passion (A Presidential Affair Book 3) Page 2