by Amy Rench
“We’re close?” he asked, not turning to face her even though she knew he could tell she was checking him out by the ticking muscle in his jaw. She moved her inspection from the attractive view inside to the abundant landscape outside.
“The next turn, actually,” she answered, recognizing the familiar sights. “Just about two more miles, then make another right.”
And they’d be back to where it all began.
Quiet reigned until they reached the turn.
Bitter, aching memories flooded over her as the car maneuvered onto the isolated roadway. Approaching the hidden turn to Bobby’s house, Rome slowed the vehicle. Her breathing caught as she saw the charred pavement where Bobby’s truck had burned. With Bobby inside. Nothing remained but a disturbing sooty stain on the road.
Harper raised a palm to her forehead, desperately trying not to let her emotions swirl out of control. Her pulsing mind began to spiral, and she closed her eyes, taking a few deep, calming breaths.
A firm squeeze of her other hand caught her attention. She snapped her eyes open.
“Harper.” The tone of his deep voice rolled over her name, soothing her churning insides. She looked into his clear blue eyes. “It’s going to be okay.” Squeezing her hand once more, he said, “You can do this.”
“How can you say that?” she whispered, wanting desperately to believe him. “You don’t even know me.”
“I know all I need to know.” His confidence in her was reassuring. She let it settle around her like a cozy blanket, warm and secure. “You’re strong. Inside and out. You can do this.”
Nodding, she covered their entwined hands with her other one. He gave her a quick nod back and put the car in motion down the isolated bumpy road. Clearing the last of the heavy trees, Bobby’s inviting home came into view.
The two-bedroom house was more like a log cabin, built of rich wood and surrounded by various small firs and cedars. And the dogwoods whose leaves added vibrant color when they adorned the now-bare branches. Acres and acres of forest enveloped the property, which was how Bobby loved it. It was his private haven of timberland. Serene and alive. But now it seemed still and lifeless.
Gravel crunched under the Land Rover’s chunky tires as they rolled to a stop near the back door. She’d told Rome to park in the back when he’d asked her earlier about cover. There was no garage, just a cleared space out front, enough for two, maybe three cars, and the one-car spot here in the back. He turned off the powerful engine with a twist of his wrist and jiggled the keys.
“Let’s go around front,” he said, opening the door and hopping out of the driver’s side.
She unlocked her door and slid out of the seat, hitting the gravel with a thud. Shutting the door, she saw Rome come to her side and pocket his keys. He gave her a soft, encouraging smile and nodded toward the house.
They moved around the side and approached the entryway, the aging floorboards creaking with their footsteps. Rome pulled out his gun and held it ready.
Harper gave him an inquiring look at the aggressive motion. He quirked a half smile at her. Should she be worried about something? Stepping ahead of her, Rome grabbed the doorknob and turned it. The door opened easily when he slowly pushed inward. Pressing a finger to his lips in a shushing movement, he gripped his gun tightly and eased low through the door and disappeared. Harper remained silent outside on the porch.
A long moment later, Rome opened the door wide and gestured for her to go inside.
“It’s clear, but it’s been run through,” he said, expelling a breath and holstering his gun.
Gazing around the familiar confines in miserable shock, she saw what he meant. It did look like it had been run through. By a herd of wild animals.
Everything was wrecked. Everything. Furniture was upended. Books and papers littered the hardwood floor. The minimal knickknacks that Bobby had were either broken or discarded haphazardly. The inviting dark wood walls that made the home comfy and charming were bare. All the woodland paintings and mountain photographs were on the floor, with broken glass and bent frames.
Harper took a slow, deep breath and blinked away heavy tears. Somehow she’d known this was coming. After the vicious scene in the lab, she’d known this was a possibility.
But to be slapped in the face with this stung and was harder than she’d imagined. Seeing Bobby’s personal things treated like they were worthless and tossed around like yesterday’s trash was utterly devastating.
A strong hand on her back made her jump forward, knocking her shin hard against the solid leg of the upsidedown coffee table.
“Yow!” Harper exclaimed, bending over to run her hand across the quick-forming knot on her leg. “Don’t do that again. Please.”
“Sorry.” Rome rubbed her back with warm strokes. He could do that all he wanted. She was eternally grateful not to have to face this alone. “Let’s take a look around. We’re looking for anything they might have left behind. Anything that seems like it was gone through.”
“Everything looks like it was gone through,” she murmured, straightening.
Harper nimbly maneuvered through the debris toward the heavy brick fireplace that monopolized half the far wall. In the corner was a thick wooden shelving unit. Most of the shelves were missing, thrown about the room, except the middle one. The one that had held the carefully maintained glass cases of her swimming medals. The cases that were now shattered on the floor at her feet.
Bobby had asked to keep some of her medals here so that he could share her triumphs with her, even if they weren’t together.
She carefully picked up one of the fallen golden discs. It felt enormously heavy as she peered at it, the memories flooding her vision while she scanned the words.
U.S. Champion, 400-meter Individual Medley. Her best race. She’d set a record. And won this medal. The first of three golds at the Olympic team trials.
Running her thumb over the raised etchings, she remembered how proud Bobby had been. How proud she’d been. She’d won other competitions, but that was her first big one. Her first national gold. The one that set her on the path to reaching her dream to compete at the Olympics. And put her among the elite in the nation.
Harper gripped the medal tightly, realizing that she may never earn another one of these ever again.
“Is there an office or something?” Rome asked as he moved to her side, running his hand along the smooth wood of the empty shelf. His other hand rested on her shoulder, warm and encouraging. “Maybe he was working on a project of interest.”
“Yes,” Harper answered quietly, gently setting the medal next to his hand on the shelf. She turned away and moved toward the small hallway. “There’re only five rooms. This one, a bathroom, the kitchen, an office, and the bedroom.” She stopped outside the rectangular room that was Bobby’s office, looking over her shoulder to see Rome just behind her. “I usually slept on that couch.” She pointed to the sofa bed tucked in the corner. Its cushions were on the floor on top of some open file folders.
“I’ll go through this stuff.” Rome squeezed by her to enter the office, brushing his hard body against hers and giving her a reassuring pat. “Why don’t you check the bedroom?”
She watched him bend to one knee and start sifting through the papers on the floor, scanning each before he stacked them neatly to the side. The motion tightened his jeans against his taut rear. Though she was struggling mightily to hold her emotions in check, she let herself indulge in the ordinary act of appreciating the fine male specimen before her eyes.
Shaking her head, Harper paced down the hall to Bobby’s bedroom. Again, ugly destruction greeted her. She stood in the doorway and surveyed the morbid scene. In a daze, she walked in.
Picking up a rumpled T-shirt from the floor, she stared at the faded symbol of the Green Lantern. Bobby loved comic book heroes as much as she did. They had competitions of who could find the coolest vintage shirts of their favorites.
She carefully folded the shirt and held it in
one hand as she reached with the other to pick up an upside-down wooden picture frame on the floor. Turning it over, she saw her own image next to Bobby’s through the cracked glass. They were facing the camera, each with an arm around the other’s shoulder in front of a glorious mountain backdrop.
Ah yes, their summer trip to Whistler a few years back. They’d ridden up the open chairlift to the summit of Whistler Mountain. Smiling, Harper remembered being absolutely petrified to ride the lift high above the craggy, rocky mountainside. Bobby had laughed at her anxiety, but had also held on to her arm with doting support and talked to her the whole way, both up and down, to keep her too distracted to freak out.
Her eyes misted over. She stood, then leaned back to sit on the disheveled bed. Bringing the shirt up to her face, she could faintly smell the fresh, cool scent of Bobby’s cologne.
The picture frame slid from her unsteady grasp, but she barely heard the thump as it hit the floor. Instead, she buried her face in Bobby’s well-worn T-shirt and finally let loose her crushing anguish.
It was just too much. Surrounded by Bobby’s things, knowing he’d never see them again was just too much. The silent tears just kept coming. And she didn’t even care to stop them.
She had no idea how long she’d been crying when she heard faint footsteps and felt the bed sink next to her. Strong arms circled her trembling shoulders and pulled her into a solid embrace. Leaning into the warm body, she heard Rome’s strong and comforting heartbeat while his hand made soothing patterns on her back.
Rome tightened his grip, startling her. She sniffled and raised her head to look at him. Head slightly tilted, he was clearly listening for something. He released her and stood silently, pulling his gun just seconds before she heard the front door crash open.
CHAPTER FIVE
Rome heard the footsteps trying not to crunch on the gravel outside just seconds before the front door was bashed open. He silently cursed for allowing himself to get caught up in Harper’s naked grief. She was undeniably distracting. He’d known coming here would be hard for her, but he’d also known she was strong and could handle it well enough.
And she had done better than he’d expected. Really, he couldn’t blame her for falling apart at seeing her brother’s place in shambles, and it also justified his belief that she truly was shocked that Bobby was dead. No, he didn’t know her well at all, but what he did know from all the cruelty he’d seen in the field was that depth of sorrow couldn’t be faked.
“Get behind me, fast,” he hissed.
Harper quickly got up and stood still at his back. He could feel the warmth of her taut body just a breath away from his as he listened. It was impossible for whoever was out there to keep quiet with the amount of debris littered over the floor. Someone stumbled and grunted. Idiots.
It was difficult to tell how many people had entered the house, not to mention how many might be wandering around outside. Rome was glad he’d parked in the back, obscured by some dense and drooping trees. It came to him while he was digging through the clutter in Bobby’s office that Jeff would have expected him back by now—with Harper in tow, dead or alive.
Well, the woman most certainly was alive. And he’d inexplicably committed himself to help her. So it was somewhat possible Jeff was looking for him as well. But he was pretty damn sure whoever was bumbling around out there was after the enigmatic woman standing right behind him with her hand resting lightly on his shoulder blade.
He turned toward her. Is there a way to the back? he mouthed. Damn, she was close. Close enough that he dropped his gaze to her full lips. He nearly moaned when the tip of her tongue poked out to wet them. Sheer willpower forced his attention back to her eyes. She shook her head no.
Tearing his gaze back to the hallway, he noticed shadows milling around near their position. Could Harper and he get through the window and to the Land Rover without causing alarm? It was likely that the intruders didn’t know they were even here.
Deciding their best tactical option was to run, he turned to look at Harper, then immediately pulled her to the floor in a tangled crouch. Outside the window he caught a glimpse of motion. Damn it all to hell. Whoever was out there was going to find his car.
He and Harper had to do something fast before they were completely trapped.
“There’s a window in the office.” Harper’s breathy voice in his ear gave him a jolt. Shake it off, boy.
He nodded, trying to clear his mind, which was tough considering the snug contact of their bodies. He peeked around the corner. All clear. If they moved fast, they might beat the intruders to the car via the office window. “Let’s go.” He readied his gun, barrel down, wrist steady, and grabbed her hand, hauling her up with him.
Leading her cautiously down the hallway, he hugged the wall, briefly smiling when he noticed her doing the same. As they reached the doorway, he pulled her with him inside the room.
“Stop!” boomed a loud voice. Crack! A bullet splintered the doorframe directly above Harper’s head.
Too damn close. They needed a new plan. Rome was smart enough to know when to give in. But he never gave up.
“Get out here now,” the man commanded. “With your hands on your head.” Maybe they didn’t know he was there. Maybe he could catch them off guard. But that left Harper alone to face them.
Yes, she was tough, but against the hostile firepower that was probably out there? She was wanted dead or alive. Which, to most agents, meant dead. If they had been sent by Jeff, there wasn’t much that would stop them from pulling their triggers.
“All right,” Rome answered loudly enough for anyone in the house to hear. “We’re coming out.” He nodded to Harper and gave her a look he hoped was reassuring. She narrowed her eyes and tightened her lips, but nodded back. “It’s going to be okay,” he told her in a low voice, and gave her arm a comforting squeeze.
Moving ahead of her, he holstered his gun and put his hands on his head, motioning her to mimic him. He was thankful she did, though she seemed a bit more passive than the woman he knew—albeit briefly.
As soon as he stepped out into the hallway, two men roughly grabbed his upraised arms and dragged him into the trashed living room. Gritting his teeth, he watched as they did the same to Harper. His captors abruptly stopped and Harper stumbled as she was shoved to a halt next to him. The men moved around to face the two of them.
“Are you Harper Kane?” one asked in a blunt tone.
Rome wasn’t sure whether she would answer. He kept staring straight ahead, not wanting to tip them off in case she didn’t.
“Are you Harper Kane?” the man repeated curtly, and raised his rifle to settle it against her chest, as if she had a bull’s-eye over her heart.
Rome held back a twitch and looked sideways at her face, trying to gauge her reaction. Would she cave in? Maybe, maybe not. He was guessing not, but he wasn’t so sure this guy was bluffing.
He was about to tell her to answer when she tilted her head to meet his gaze.
“Get behind me,” she said in a chilled and calm tone. What? What the hell was she doing?
More men bounded through the open doorway, probably the shadowy guys from outside.
“Last chance, bitch,” the man with the pointed gun said impatiently, tapping the barrel against her. He wasn’t bluffing at all. “Are you Harper Kane?”
“Rome, trust me.” Her cool gaze never wavered from his face. He had no idea what to do. This guy was going to shoot her. These were Jeff’s guys. He knew it. They may or may not know who he was; they’d given no indication either way. Regardless, they suspected who she was and would no doubt finish the job that he hadn’t.
He’d asked her to trust him. Maybe he should do the same for her. Decision made, he gave her a tight smile and ducked behind her.
The man cocked his rifle and repositioned his aim on her chest. Rome watched from his position slightly behind her as she tipped back her head and spread her arms. What on earth was she doing?
H
arper bowed her head forward and her body began to tremble. Lightly at first, and then she started to shudder, rippling into a controlled convulsion. Worried, Rome put a hand on her shoulder. Her body was whitehot. He instantly removed his hand, his palm stinging as though he’d grabbed a burning log. Everyone in the room was still focused on her.
All at once, Harper’s head snapped back, she cried out, and her arms spread wide, palms facing out. A barely perceptible pulsing wave shot out from her body, displacing the air and pounding against everything in its wake. It was as though a surge emanated from her being.
Rome witnessed the utter devastation originating from Harper with horror. The charged air flared from her hands toward their enemies. The clear shimmery wave coiled around them and rushed into their bodies. The men standing before her crumpled, their faces frozen in fright, and fell to the ground motionless. Lifeless.
The front windows shattered from the residual energy throbbing through the room, the glass shattering outward with a roar. The upturned furniture slammed against the far wall, and the debris that had littered the floor whirled around the room like a mini tornado. Destruction ravaged everything in the area in front of him.
Finally, it stopped.
Whatever she had done had seized the life out of the men and torn apart what was left of Bobby’s living room.
Rome remained completely still, shock rushing through every fiber, stirring his blood. Tearing his gaze away from the sickening annihilation, Rome glared at Harper. She was standing, shaking, with her hands clutching her head. Then she fell to her knees, heaving in every breath. Like the first time he’d seen her in the lab.
He just stood there. Staring.
She looked up at him, her eyes wild, stark pain and dread written all over her flushed features.
“I’m so sorry.” The broken whisper came from her trembling lips just before she slumped to the hard floor in an unconscious heap.
Stunned, Rome squatted down next to her and mechanically felt her neck for a pulse. He found it racing faster than he ever thought possible.