Call to Redemption

by Tawny Weber

  “Any case could do that,” Grace pointed out in a practical tone. She ruined it, though, by biting her lip and looking as if she wanted to cry. “And while the timing of your affair might be questionable, as long as you don’t have to bring charges against him, it won’t matter.”

  “Really? Do you think Carson is going to shrug it off when he finds out?” The tension was wound so tight in her body that Darby felt like she was going to burst into a million pieces at any moment. “I’ll lose everything. My career. My self-respect. And all for what? Because I’m stupid-in-love with the man?”

  “You were willing to risk your career by pivoting on the case because you believe he’s innocent. Why is it any different to risk it because you have serious feelings for him?”

  Why?

  Because one was for justice. She believed in justice.

  The other was emotion. And emotion was something Darby had no faith in at all.

  But she didn’t say a word. Because she couldn’t. Not to Grace. Not now. Not when Nic was due here any minute.

  “Darby?” Grace prompted, probably concerned at the sick expression Darby knew had settled on her face. “Are you okay?”

  “I’ve got a nasty headache,” Darby said. Not a lie but she still felt the weight of guilt. “I appreciate you coming by. I really do.”

  “But you want me to go,” Grace said with an understanding laugh. “I will but I’m checking in tomorrow. Call me if you need anything. To talk, to vent. Even another chocolate overdose. I’m here for you.”

  With that and a gentle pat on the knee, Grace got to her feet, scurried around the coffee table and walked out of the apartment.

  And Darby was left trying to corral the hazy thoughts that were spinning through her mind in a dozen directions. She stared at the door for a long time after Grace left.

  She wanted to believe her friend, to have faith that it’d all work out in the end.

  But what if it didn’t?

  Her career.

  Her mother.

  Her peace of mind.

  They were all at risk if she continued this relationship. She was stacking up everything she’d lived her life around for nine years against feelings she didn’t understand.

  But she couldn’t do anything else.

  Because as sure as she was in her mind that Nic was innocent, her heart was just as sure he was the man she loved.

  Stupid heart, she thought, gritting her teeth.

  * * *

  HE SHOULDN’T FEEL this good.

  His steps light, Nic made his way to Darby’s door with a grin on his face. An inappropriate grin, he knew. His team was in an uproar, his career was teetering on the edge of destruction and he was temporarily relieved of duty. Something that incited fury and a gut-wrenching pain he worked extremely hard to ignore.

  Having Darby in his life—in his bed—didn’t make up for any of that, but it was a damn nice distraction from brooding over it.

  Ready to be distracted, he gave her door a quick knock. As soon as it opened, he gave into the need and, tunneling his fingers into the silky spikes of her hair, took her mouth in a hot, wet kiss that sent his body humming.

  “Sorry I’m late,” he said with a smile when he released her. “Ready for dinner?”

  “Come in. Please.” Her voice husky, Darby stepped back and gestured. And Nic got a good look at her face.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Please. Come in.”

  Nic waited until he was in the living room, then asked again, “What’s wrong?”

  “There’s something we need to discuss. I’ll keep it brief,” Darby said, gesturing toward the couch. “Please, have a seat.”

  “From the look on your face, it’s not because you want to make dinner.” He ignored the couch, instead studied her expression. He knew that face. He’d memorized her every emotion.

  It wasn’t business. He could see pain in Darby’s eyes and knew it was more. It was personal.

  “Something’s come up. Something that made me realize that I’ve made a mistake.”

  The words were clipped, her tone neutral. But Nic saw where she was going. Instead of letting her meander there, he got straight to the point.

  “You’re ending things between us?”

  “I’m ending personal things between us,” she said to clarify.

  He ignored the vicious burning in his chest.

  “Why?”

  “As I said, something came up.” When he simply stared, she slammed her fists on her hips and glared. “Hey, I helped you. Isn’t that enough?”

  “Why?”

  She gave him a dismissive look. The kind meant to flick a guy off and make him feel like nothing. Nic didn’t let it bother him, because he could see something beneath it. He just had to get to it.

  “Because this was supposed to be a fling. Just sex. But you’re pushing for more. You want me to meet your friends, you act like we’re a couple. Dates. You had me making reservations at a mushy romantic restaurant. I’m not interested in any of that,” she snapped. “I’m not interested in anything with you.”

  Nic took the punch to the gut without blinking.

  “Why?”

  He saw the frustration flash, quick as lightning in her eyes—there then gone—before Darby turned away to shrug.

  “Isn’t that enough?”

  “No.”

  His tactic—using a single, unemotional word to push her buttons—worked. She gave a low growl through clenched teeth and seemed to throw aside all semblance of unconcern.

  “Why? How about because a relationship with you could destroy my career. Or maybe because my mother would hate you and what you represent. Because my brother worshipped you.” Before he could process that, she was pacing, fast angry steps from one end of the room to the other as she spat words at him at the speed of bullets. “You’re military. Once you’re cleared, you won’t have time for me because your every waking minute will be for your team. Missions, secrets, risks. That’s your life.”

  Yeah. It was. A life he damn well wanted back. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t have her with it. Darby didn’t seem to think so since she was still ranting.

  “Relationships between nine-to-fivers are bad enough. There’s no way two people with careers like ours could make a relationship work. If it was just sex, that’d be fine. But you want more. That’s the kind of guy you are. The kind who gives things one hundred percent. But I don’t have ten percent to give, let alone one hundred.”

  Yeah. She did. Why was she refusing to see that?

  “You mentioned your mother. Your brother.” The one that’d died, he remembered. He also remembered her reference to Mount Hell Yeah. “What do they have to do with us?”

  “There is no us,” she said, emotions wrinkling in her eyes now. Pain and hurt and loss. “My brother wanted to join Poseidon. He aimed for the elite. And he died trying. Losing him destroyed my mother. You destroyed my family.”

  Nic almost cringed at the pain in her eyes. In knowing he’d had some part in putting it there.

  “He was a few years behind you, so would never have had a chance anyway. But he got this crazy idea that he could do so well, he’d impress you and you’d make him the exception to your rule.”

  “What was his name?” Nic felt the blow but forced himself to focus. How had he missed this? How had he missed the many ways that his work, his dream, his choices had hurt people?

  “Danny. Ensign Daniel Raye,” she said. “He died in a diving accident nine years ago. In an effort to impress his way onto your precious team.”

  Nic’s mind raced. He’d served with hundreds of people over the years, but he didn’t remember her brother. But now he realized why she’d tapped into the idea that resentment was fueling his frame job.
Because she knew firsthand.

  “Is that what we were? A chance to get revenge?” he asked quietly.

  “Like I said. There was no us.” The words were as flat as the expression in her eyes when they met his. His heart ached. He damn near hated her for that. For making him feel, for making him believe.

  “You did your research. You know I’m a good attorney. A damn good one. And an ambitious one. I didn’t see your case pushing me where I wanted to go, but I knew you’d get me there.” She lifted one brow and gave a pitying shake of her head. “I just had to give you a push in the right direction.”

  Shut it down, Nic told himself.

  “Did you know who I was in Hawaii?”

  “I told you, my brother worshipped you. Do you really think I had no idea who you were?”

  He couldn’t read her eyes. He didn’t know if it was the pain or if she was really that good at hiding her feelings. Or telling a lie. But he had no choice. He had to take her words at face value.

  Jaw clenched, he executed a tidy about-face and headed for the door. Before he reached it, his cell buzzed twice, then stopped. Purpose filled him now, his steps quickened.

  “Wait,” Darby snapped, crossing to his side. “What’s going on?”

  “I have work to do,” was all he said.

  “You’re not on duty. But your team is, aren’t they?” She searched his face. “What did they find?”

  Nic didn’t answer. He was too busy grinding his teeth as he skirted around her and strode through the doorway.

  “What the hell are you doing?” he snapped when she caught up with him on the landing.

  “I’m going with you.”

  “No. You’re not.”

  Darby grabbed him. He could have ignored her hand on his arm. He could have easily flicked her off. But he made the mistake—what was one more where she was concerned?—and met her steady gaze.

  “I’m going. The sooner I get it, the sooner I bring charges and end this.”

  “You’ll get your info.” He’d make sure of it.

  “The information will do more good if I get it firsthand.”

  Instead of getting it filtered through him. Nic heard the unspoken words loud and clear. He drew on years of control to give her a dismissive look.

  “Like you trust anything my men have to say?”

  “I guess we’ll see.”

  * * *

  SHE’D USED HIM.

  The slap to the ego was nothing compared to the pain that realization was digging in his gut. But like anything that interfered with duty, Nic ignored it. Just as he ignored the woman in the seat next to him.

  He gave himself the time it took to drive to the meet to focus, to put aside everything. Emotions were pointless. All that mattered now was the win. And to win, he had to take down his enemy.

  With that in mind, he pulled into the parking lot. Nic looked at the dingy excuse for a motel, then glanced at the woman sitting next to him. He didn’t want her here. She’d hurt him, dammit. She’d cut him to the bone, and now, what? She was going to sit and watch him drain out?

  “I don’t want you here,” Nic stated baldly, not bothering to turn off the Range Rover’s ignition.

  “Of course you don’t. The only people you trust are your team.”

  He’d trusted her. Nic’s jaw clenched.

  “I’m here to do a job,” she said quietly. “If you didn’t want me here to do it, you wouldn’t have let me come.”

  She was right. She had one purpose now and one purpose only. To ensure that the federal prosecutor’s office would bring charges against the person who’d committed treason. Once she’d done that, her place in his life was over.

  “I won’t forget this,” he promised in a low voice. His eyes locked on hers.

  “No.” Darby unbuckled her seat belt, opened the door and slid out of the car. “You won’t.”

  Nic got out of the car and, ignoring the woman at his side, strode up the stained concrete stairs toward the second floor motel room. He stopped in front of the same room he’d stashed Torres and Lansky in almost a year ago and lifted one hand to knock.

  Before his knuckles connected, he slanted a look at the woman he’d thought he’d fallen for. It was, he knew, a look of goodbye.

  “Let’s just get this over,” Darby suggested quietly. “The sooner you know, the sooner it’s all finished.”

  “Yeah,” he agreed. “Let’s finish it.”

  “Why is she here?” Lansky asked when he opened the door. He eyed Darby, his Boy Scout face filled with suspicion.

  “She wanted the intel firsthand” was all Nic said.

  “You’re the boss.” With that, Lansky stepped back to let them both in the room.

  He felt her hesitation before the door closed. Smart woman. She’d just stabbed him in the gut.

  “Gentlemen,” he said, nodding to the men in the room.

  Lansky’s spot on the floor was marked by a bag of potato chips, a note-covered pad and his still glowing laptop. Torres was doing push-ups on the burnt-orange carpet while Prescott sat on the only chair, his booted feet crossed and resting on the bed while he drew.

  “Yo, boss,” Louden greeted as he stepped out of the bathroom, the handheld device in his hand glowing green. “Just finished the sweep and tweak of the place. We’re good to go.”

  “Sweep and tweak?” Darby asked.

  Nic had to give her credit. He was standing right next to her so he’d have felt if she so much as cringed at the intense stares the four men in the room threw her way.

  Instead, Darby flashed a bright smile and gave them all a sarcastic finger wave.

  “Sweeping,” Louden said, shifting his hard stare to Nic then back to Darby again. “Checking the room for bugs. Tweaking. Installing jammers to ensure nobody can tap in to anything we say, do or think.”

  “Think?”

  “What? You’d don’t think it’s possible to tap in to someone’s thoughts?” Louden peered down at Darby with enough intensity to see all the way into her brain. “You don’t think our government has experiments into mind control and psychic phenomenon?”

  “You do?” Darby slid a questioning look toward Nic as if trying to gauge whether Louden was serious.

  He stared back, wondering why the hell she could still stir him after what she’d done.

  They were through.

  It was just as well, he told himself.

  He’d seen enough military relationships to know that they were damn hard to make work. It was even tougher when both partners were all in, totally committed and completely devoted to each other. Like any battle to be fought, it could only be won if you could count on the people by your side.

  And now he knew he couldn’t count on her.

  “Report,” Nic ordered. Before anyone could speak, he shot Darby a look and added, “Level three.”

  In other words, nothing classified was to be disseminated in front of the civilian.

  “Rembrandt broke the code,” Diego said, ending his workout to give his report. “Once he did, MacGyver identified the fingerprint.”

  “Sir,” Prescott said, standing to give his report. Even though the man wore jeans and a black T-shirt, he stood militarily erect at parade rest. “I was able to decrypt enough of the messaging to determine the signature.”

  He went on to describe what he’d done in heavy technical terms. Nic, well versed in cryptology, had no trouble following along. A glance at Darby told him that she had a pretty good handle on it, too.

  That, or she faked it really well. And he had reason to know that she was good at faking it.

  “With that, I handed the broken code to MacGyver.” Prescott waited for Nic’s nod before sitting again, while Lansky pushed off from the floor with one hand and, m
imicking the other man’s stance, gave his report.

  “Whoever did this, he’s good. We knew that. He had enough skills to rewrite code, to erase the trail. As you know, all data carries a fingerprint. And every fingerprint is unique. With the encryption data, I was able to track down every use of the fingerprint in question. That’s when Grumpy stepped in.”

  Nic simply shifted his gaze to Louden.

  He didn’t need to study the expression in his second-in-command’s eyes to know he wasn’t going to like what the man had to say.

  Cree, was all he could think before he boarded up his emotions and focused on the job at hand.

  Forty-five minutes later, he was grateful for the years of training that kept the vicious churning of betrayal from showing on his face. Twice in one night, he’d been kicked where it hurt.

  But there was no way he’d let it show.

  “Yo,” Louden said with a jerk of his chin. Nic followed his gaze toward the bed.

  “What are you doing, Darby?”

  Her spike-heeled boots a puddle of leather on the floor, she sat cross-legged at the bottom of the bed, her head bent low as she finished filling the page in her notebook. Her hand barely stopped long enough to flip to the next page before she was writing again.

  “Darby,” he snapped, his tone demanding attention.

  “What? Hang on.” She lifted one hand for him to wait while she kept on writing. Finally she looked up to meet Nic’s gaze.

  “Sorry. I wanted to get that all down while it was in my head.”

  Nic clenched his teeth.

  “Did you get everything you wanted? Enough for that big fat promotion?”

  The tension in the air was electric. Darby’s eyes flicked around the room, her expression closed. But she didn’t hesitate as she got to her feet.

  “I’ve outlined the points I’ll use to inform the Deputy Director that I’m ready to file treason charges. Because of the groundwork I’ve already laid to ensure the Justice Department is bringing charges against everyone involved in the case rather than targeting you specifically, I’ll be able to move quickly and tie them in to the current case.” Biting her lip, she tapped her pen on the paper and considered the room again. It wasn’t nerves, he realized. She was considering her approach. “Is what you have solid enough to clear your name?”