by Norris, Kris
Six glanced in the rearview, looking as if he wanted to pull over, but she knew he wouldn’t. That he wouldn’t let his guard down for a second until they reached this safe location Gibson had mentioned—another guy on her shit list. But he could wait. Hell, she didn’t really care that much that he hadn’t given her a burner because she wasn’t in love with Gibson. Didn’t need him to believe in her the way she did Six. He was the only person whose opinion truly mattered to her. Just thinking he saw her as their weak link made her eyes sting. Pooled tears behind them. Ones she blinked away because she would not cry in front of him, damn it. Not after coming so close in the loft.
That luscious mouth of his turned down as he looked her way for a moment. “This isn’t exactly the place or the time I’d choose to have this conversation, but I can tell by the way you’re about to crawl out of your skin that it can’t wait.”
He took a breath—hissed it out through clenched teeth. “First of all, I have never considered you weak. If I had, we wouldn’t have spent the past seven months as partners. You’re as skilled as anyone else on the team, Delta training or not. Second, I was pissed at Cannon because he’d figured out I had feelings for you and was tormenting me because I couldn’t get up the damn guts to make a move. Do you have any idea how hard it’s been to work with you—to spend hours on end drinking in the scent of your perfume? Watching you smile and wondering if there was something I could do to make you smile like that at me? To want so much more but not be able to get the words out?”
Six blew out a rough breath. “I’ve been slowly going insane for months.”
He had?
“But—”
“Not yet, sweetheart. It’s still my turn. As for what you consider as me putting you on the sidelines…” Another rough breath, followed by an audible swallow. As if he could barely get his throat to work. “Did you ever stop to consider that things have changed? That… Fuck, that you mean more to me than anyone else ever has? That the thought of losing you—of failing…”
He shook his head, pounding one hand on the steering wheel. “No amount of training has made me strong enough to weather that. To have to face the rest of my life knowing I was the reason you were killed.”
The truck rocked to a halt at a red light, and he turned, clearing behind them before looking her straight in the eyes. “This need to protect you—to use my damn skills for something other than completing missions for god and country—isn’t because I think you’re weak, Kam. It’s because you’re the most important part of my life. The one person I’m quickly discovering I can’t live without. I don’t know how this is all going to play out. If this is just a necessary ploy or the start of forever. For once in my life, I can’t see anything but this moment. This chance. I’m completely out of my element, and quite frankly… It scares the shit out of me.”
He turned a second before the light changed, jerking the truck forward just as the radio blasted static through the cab. Six cursed under his breath, grabbing the handset. “Go, ahead.”
“Someone sounds pissed.” Crow, and Six obviously didn’t appreciate the hint of humor in the man’s voice. Not by the way his knuckles blanched white around the receiver.
“If I am, then you wouldn’t be helping, would you, buddy?”
“Probably not. We’re going to head to the airport. We’ll leave my car there, change out Gib’s license plates, then double back to the safehouse. It’s not foolproof but with the rain increasing, we should have a good chance at getting there without anyone watching us. Gib says he has another vehicle stashed at the house we can use after we hide the truck. Meet us in departures.”
“Roger.”
Silence. Dead, numbing silence. As if talking on the radio had sucked all the air out of the truck. Hit some kind of mute button because Kam couldn’t even hear Six breathing. He wasn’t even looking at her, just staring straight ahead, those red patches on his cheeks deeper. His hands fisted around the wheel, as if the damn thing might try to turn on its own. Take off on some weird tangent.
And all because of her. Because she’d questioned his conviction. No—she’d questioned his honor.
What he’d said…
She’d never considered that line of thinking. That he was trying to juggle his feelings with his training. She knew, firsthand, that elite soldiers knew how to tuck their emotions away. Box them up or push them down. Whatever it took to make them stone cold focused. All of Cannon’s men could do it. Priest’s unit, too. As if Delta Force Alpha squadron had received some special training in the art of being removed. Of only caring about their teammates, the mission and the outcome. Hearing him confess that he wasn’t strong enough to lose her…
She glanced out the window. Watched the scenery blur past. She should have thought it all through. Considered the different variables. After all those years in MI, her training should have had her looking for explanations. Options.
Had she really lost that much of herself? Had that one incident—those four days out of her life—really changed her that much? Had she swung so far in the other direction, she’d lost what had made her Kameron Monroe? The woman who could unearth any secret, no matter how deeply it was buried? Was she nothing more than a shell of who she’d once been?
She needed to make this right, because Six wasn’t the only one out of his element. Stumbling blindly ahead wondering if every move was the wrong one. If she’d do or say something to make him leave. Of course, she’d walked right into that self-fulfilling prophecy and put him on the defensive.
He hadn’t labeled it love. Not that it mattered. What he’d said meant so much more. She never thought he’d ever admit to being afraid of anything. Hearing him say that single word…
It had resonated with that part of her she’d thought she’d lost. That was still searching. Still looking to be worthy. To be enough. That if she had the courage to look to the future, she might see what Jericho had been talking about.
A deep breath. Then, another. Over and over until the pounding in her chest eased. The stinging in her eyes faded. She couldn’t do this if she started crying.
He was still staring straight ahead, gaze constantly checking the mirrors. If he was also watching her, then the man truly was the best damn warrior she’d ever encountered because all she could see was the tightness around his right eye. The firm press of his lips. The way he kept adjusting his shoulders as he maintained his vigil.
One last deep breath. “Four days.”
Six tensed as her voice rasped through the truck. Not loud. In fact, it had barely registered, but he pursed his lips. Clenched his jaw, again. “Excuse me?”
He hadn’t turned to look at her, not that she’d expected him to. Not with the tension weighing down the air. Making her work just to take a labored breath.
“That’s all it took. To change…everything. It’s not even half a percentage of the time I’ve been alive. Is such a damn small amount, it’s not even worth mentioning. A drop in the ocean. And yet… It’s defined me. Altered how I perceive myself. How, I think others perceive me.”
A sigh. Not a patronizing one. This sound was filled with regret. Sympathy. Love. “Kam—”
“I never used to be like this. Never questioned my worth until I was standing in that desert, looking at all those men. The ones who should have lived. Who’d trained to face that kind of terror. Who were so much more skilled than me and yet…they were dead.”
She closed her eyes—let her head rest against the seat. “I thought I was making myself stronger, but it was only a bandaid. A way to mask that I’m still scared—still hiding from the threats that live in the shadows. That no matter what I do, I’ll never be worthy of their sacrifice.”
She swallowed, nearly choked on it. “And you’re wrong. I do know how hard it’s been to work with someone you’re crazy about. To want so much more but not have the confidence to believe you deserve it. That anyone could ever want the broken version of you. That they could see beyond the cracks. I don’t k
now what this is, either, but I do know that it’ll never last if I keep pushing you away. Keep questioning your honor.”
A shift of his eyes. A hint of a glance. “You didn’t—”
“I did. And I’m sorry. But I need you to believe in me. To let me take the same risks because if you think it would be any easier for me to have to live knowing I’d gotten you killed…”
She would not cry. She wouldn’t. Not even when the tears welled up in her throat. A huge ball she could barely keep down.
A clench of her jaw and a forceful exhalation. “I’ve barely managed to make it knowing I got my unit killed. Men I respected. Would have died for. But you…”
She looked at him. Made herself hold his gaze when he glanced at her. “There are some things you just can’t come back from, Casey. And you’re one of them.” She motioned to the ramp ahead of them when he just stared at her—eyes narrowed. That lethal look focused on her. “That’s our exit.”
He snapped his attention back to the road, taking the ramp then following the signs to the departure’s area. Crow and Gibson were waiting in the parking garage, arms crossed. A bag in Crow’s hand.
Gibson rounded the vehicle, jumping in the flatbed. He accessed the toolbox behind the cab, fiddled with what Kam guessed were the license plates for a few minutes, then jumped in the back beside Crow. Six offered him the keys—for him to drive—but the man waved him off, kicking back and closing his eyes as Six hit the GPS. Got the directions to the safehouse started.
They took an obscure route back, nearly doubling the time before ending up in a similar industrial district south of the office. Gibson activated some app on his phone—opened a rolling door then instructed Six to pull in, the door shutting behind them. Another few minutes and they were out, through a series of security checks Kam suspected rivaled an MI6 facility and into his place.
It was neat, nicely appointed with the usual fare. Couches, television, computer, kitchen and three bedrooms and even more bathrooms. She wasn’t sure why it was so large, but she wasn’t going to argue. If there was one thing she could use, it was a bit of privacy. Kam wasn’t sure if it was the cumulative impact of the past few days, or just the crushing tension from the past couple of hours. Either way, her nerves were shot. Any hope of keeping up a strong front long gone.
Six hadn’t said anything since their conversation in the truck, not that they’d really had a chance to continue that talk. Not that she wanted to. Speaking her inner most thoughts—admitting she had feelings for him…
Hell, admitting she felt anything, let alone those feelings, had left her raw. Exposed. And she didn’t know how to cover up the part of her she’d bared. How to tuck it back behind her barriers. Even sitting in a chair, somewhat isolated, didn’t help. Still gave her the sensation of being on display.
Though, having Crow and Gibson continuously shifting their gazes her way—brows arched, mouths pursed—didn’t help the situation any or put her at ease. She suspected they sensed the tension in the room.
How couldn’t they? It ate up all the available oxygen. Made the room fade at the edges. Tiny spots that crept in on all sides, slowly taking her sanity along with her vision.
A throat cleared, making her jump. She snapped her head up, searching the men until she realized Gibson was staring at her.
The man smiled, though it looked part grimace. “It’s been a long few days for you. Why don’t you head on in? Get some sleep? I’ve got plenty of security, and we’ll take turns keeping watch.” Gibson held up his hand. “You and Six can move into the rotation tomorrow. After you’ve recovered a bit. We’ll have more backup here, then, too. And once everyone arrives, we’ll discuss what steps we’ll take next, yeah?”
Kam wanted to argue, but she just didn’t have it in her. Drained didn’t begin to describe how she felt. Hollow. Beaten. Those were closer to the truth.
She pushed to her feet, cursed the slight wobble, then nodded. “Which room?”
“Down the hall on the left, love. All the rooms have their own bathroom. There should be towels and other items if you’d like to have a shower. I put a t-shirt on the bed for you, earlier. It’ll be big, but…”
“Thanks. For everything.” She forced herself to look at all three men—not cringe when her gaze landed on Six—before turning toward the short hallway. “Good night.”
Kam padded her way to the bedroom, ignoring the heavy feeling between her shoulder blades. She didn’t need to glance back at the men to know they were following her every move. Most likely questioning her sanity. Good, she was questioning it, too. Especially where Six was involved. And after everything that had happened—the exchange in the truck, the awkward few hours since—she couldn’t help but wonder if it was some cosmic sign that they simply weren’t meant to be. That this ruse of a marriage was the closest she’d ever get to any kind of happily ever after. That she’d be forever playing the part, instead of living it.
Chills beaded her skin with goosebumps as she opened the door—flicked on the light then peeked inside. The bedroom was like the rest of the house. Masculine but tidy. Large bed and side tables. A door that obviously led to the bathroom Gibson had mentioned. A white tee was slung over the end of the bed frame, bright against the dark-gray bedspread.
Kam rubbed her hands along her arms, hoping to warm her suddenly clammy skin as she walked in, stopping a few feet inside. This definitely wasn’t how she’d envisioned the night ending. Not that she’d had any concrete plans, but she’d had hopes. Vivid images of how she’d wanted it to play out. All of which involved her and Six. Together. Preferably naked.
Seemed she had another recurring theme going. Her screwing things up. Always getting close to the dream, but never quite achieving it. A fraction short.
She looked down at her left hand—at the diamond ring. It was beautiful. Perfectly proportioned for her finger. The pretty, braided sterling silver band setting off the solitary stone. She didn’t care if it was essentially glass. Knowing Six had picked it out for her—even if it was all part of a desperate attempt to save their lives—made it stunning. He could have put a hex-nut on her finger and she would have loved it.
Loved him.
Kam closed her eyes, took a deep breath, then slowly let it out. Now wasn’t the time to get sentimental. To read anything into the marriage or the conversations. To put labels on her feelings. Acknowledge them. Better to sleep it all off. Push it aside until she wasn’t so emotional. There was just something about the dark that made everything feel more real. More extreme. Once the sun rose, she’d have a better handle on her feelings. Be able to shove them all down and focus on the mission.
On taking whatever steps were necessary to right the wrongs. Slader. Six. Even if it meant moving on. Finding somewhere else to hang her hat because she wasn’t sure she could continue working for Cannon and not be part of Six’s life. Go back to being teammates. To only working with him. Like she’d told him in the truck—some things she just couldn’t come back from.
She reached behind her to shut the door when a hand grabbed hers. She gasped, started pulling away—dropping her weight with the intentions of spinning and sweeping out her attacker’s feet—when that hand tugged her against a chest. The guy spun, shoving her against the door as it slammed shut behind her.
Brown eyes. Nearly black in their intensity. Slightly hidden by a mass of unruly brown locks that brushed across the bruise on his forehead—as if he’d ran his fingers repeatedly through the length in frustration, sticking it up in all directions. His lips were set in a firm line, those gorgeous eyes narrowed. Focused on her. Rough breaths breezed across her chin, one hand palmed beside her head, the other down at her hip.
Six leaned in close. Just like he’d done in the bathroom. Trapping her with his gaze. With his arms on either side. He stared down at her, studying her face as if he’d be quizzed on it later. Have to draw it for memory. “Did you really think we were done for the night?”
He’d asked her a questi
on. She knew he had, but she hadn’t heard much past the first couple of words. Had been too focused on the feel of his body just an inch from hers. How his heat warmed her through her clothes. The way his mouth moved when he spoke. What it would be like to kiss him, again.
He sighed. “Kam.”
She dragged her gaze up to his eyes—to the dark brown orbs looking down at her. “I…thought…”
“What? That I was going to let you walk away? Just disappear in here without so much as a word? Have you ever known me to give up? Abandon my mission? If that’s really what you thought, sweetheart—”
“I thought you wanted some space.”
He arched a brow then pushed into her. Pressing her hands against his chest—his heart beating beneath her palms. Muscles flexing with every pulse. Every damn inch of him touching her. “Got all the space I need right here. And for the record, we’ve only just started. I know there are a thousand things we need to talk about. What I said. What you said. That ring on your finger, but to be honest, I really don’t feel like talking, other than to have you answer one question.”
She swallowed, barely got it down. “What question?”
“Do you want me to stay or go? And by stay, I mean with you. All night. Together. Naked. In that bed. Hell, on the floor, against the door. In the shower. All of the above. I don’t care where we make love, just that we do, because you’re my mission.”
Heat exploded beneath her skin, billowing up until it was all she could do just to stand there and breathe. Make her lungs work when she was already undressing him with her mind.
Six chuckled. Brushed his mouth over hers. “Well, Mrs. O’Reilly? Stay or go?”
Mrs. O’Reilly.
Damn, she was such a goner.
She nipped at his lower lip, smiling at his rough inhalation before lifting one hand to palm his cheek. “Like there’s any other answer but…stay.”