Choices will Destroy (An FBI Romance Thriller Book 14)

by Morgan Kelley

  She wanted him, and he had been a good boy.

  Leaning forward, she hit the release on the one cuff. It didn't take him long to realize he was free.

  Immediately, he pulled her down, slamming himself deep into her body.

  “Oh, God!” he moaned.

  Livy came again. Just the wildness, and him hitting that one spot, put her over the edge. As she rode out the waves of pleasure, she could feel the whole world tipping around her.

  Then, she was flat on her back with Gabe still in her.

  “My turn,” he whispered before he began pounding his way into her body. He couldn’t be gentle because he was too far gone. All he wanted was to take his wife until they were both sweaty, spent, and empty.

  He needed this.

  He wanted her.

  Gabe was back in charge.

  He held on through the storm, and when he pinned her arms above her head, he was ready to explode.

  “So hot,” he muttered, as her legs wrapped around his hips. With each well-placed thrust, he drove them closer.

  And finally…over.

  They both came, shouting each other’s names, as they tumbled over the edge.

  Gabe erupted, pouring into his wife. She arched into his body, begging for more.

  Then he went deaf, dumb, and blind.

  The pleasure had pulled him under. The only thing he could feel was his own blood pumping through his heart.

  “Oh, Gabriel,” Livy whispered, as his ear was right beside her mouth. “You better plan on doing this over and over again. I liked seducing you.”

  He laughed. “I love you, Livy,” he whispered. “That was beyond hot. That was some awesome kinkery.”

  She snorted. Her heels were still on, and the leather skirt looked more like a belt.

  “You are most definitely permitted to shop with Elizabeth. Every week, I expect a new treat from my trick.”

  She giggled. “I like being a bad girl.”

  “Mmmmm. Spanking.”

  She snorted.

  “She has the matching outfit.”

  “Ruining it,” he muttered.

  She laughed. “Gabriel?”

  When she said his name, he lifted his head. Green eyes met green. “Yes, Olivia?”

  “Thank you for being my husband. I’m a really lucky girl.”

  He grinned, and that smile from fifteen years ago was back. She’d recognize it anywhere.

  “Oh look. I think you’re about to get lucky again.”

  She giggled.

  Then she moaned.

  * * * B l a c k h a w k - W h i t e f o x * * *

  Damascus

  He didn't come to bed.

  When Cyra put Bethe to sleep, she had hoped that they could talk. She knew what she did damaged them, but she didn't know how to fix it.

  A part of her wanted to give him time. If she let him get accustomed to not working, he’d be fine. At the beginning, she had been bored too, but it would grow on him.

  Right?

  Yeah, and then eat away at him even more.

  A part of her—the part that loved him more than herself—wanted to call Elizabeth and tell her how she had screwed up. Now she needed to figure out how badly she wanted him home.

  Was it worth it?

  Could she face every day watching the man she loved fall apart?

  Was her happiness really worth his pain?

  If she made that call, begging Elizabeth to take him back, Cyra knew she couldn’t change her mind. Even if she hated the outcome, she’d have to swallow it for him.

  Could she live with that?

  Cyra ran her hands through her blonde hair, and she was frustrated. She just wanted her husband home more often. She only wanted him to see her, pay attention to her, and want to be around.

  Then again, she knew what his life was like. He was a Fed. He was a doctor. They were two heavy weights to carry, and he was also trying to be a husband and father.

  It had to be daunting, even for someone as intelligent as Chris.

  Moving through the house, she couldn’t find him anywhere. Cyra only hoped that he hadn’t left in anger.

  Then again, could she blame him?

  She’d threatened him with an ultimatum, and that was really wrong.

  Now she had to make amends.

  As she headed into their kitchen, Cyra noticed that the door to the garage was slightly ajar, and there was a cold breeze blowing in to the room.

  Was he trying to freeze himself?

  As she peeked in, he wasn’t in his black Mercedes, but the red one he’d owned for the last fifteen years. As he sat behind the wheel, a glass of scotch on the dash, she now had her proof that he was in a bad place.

  Chris loved this vehicle.

  It held some sentimental tie to his past, only she wasn’t quite sure what it was. The only thing he’d tell her was that he found his future in the passenger seat of the car.

  So it mattered to him, and Cyra had let it go.

  As she looked in, his phone was on his lap, and he was asleep. She picked up the phone and turned it on. It was set to a picture that made her want to cry.

  It wasn’t her.

  It wasn’t Bethe.

  It was one of him, Tony, and Elizabeth. They were in the morgue, sitting on a table. Across the bottom, there was text.

  ‘Best Friends until death.’

  Her heart broke for so many reasons. She’d isolated him from the people who gave him stability. He had seen things she never could imagine, and they’d gotten him through it.

  Now he was facing the demons alone.

  She’d done something she swore she would never do. She got jealous and made him choose.

  Putting the phone back on his leg, she headed back inside. Cyra had to fix this.

  There had to be a way to get his job back. She couldn’t let him drift like this. Yes, they needed him, but to keep him all to herself was selfish. She thought back to the two other people in that picture.

  Tony was his buddy. He’d pop in and cheer Chris up whenever he was out of sorts.

  Elizabeth was a part of his past that he didn't talk about, but Cyra knew she mattered.

  There was love there, but now she saw it was more. They were part of her husband. They mattered to the man she dedicated her life to, so they should matter to her too.

  Despite the reason why, she needed to trust the man she married. He wouldn’t hurt her, and definitely not like she’d hurt him.

  She was insane to be jealous.

  Cyra now understood.

  Chris loved them all. By making him choose, she risked his love. It was like asking him to sever a limb. He needed everything to be complete.

  She was a fool.

  Back in her bedroom, she knew it was late where Elizabeth was, but she didn't have a choice. It was wake her up, or watch her husband suffer until they were back from the case.

  That was something she couldn’t risk. She was about to incur the wrath of the woman who could save her husband. Their relationship was already rocky.

  But she had no choice. Cyra was putting it all in the hands of a woman who loved her husband.

  Fate was now in control.

  * * * B l a c k h a w k - W h i t e f o x * * *

  Across The Country

  Georgetown One A.M.

  When the phone rang, she was the first to grab it. In the middle of the night, it usually meant a dead body. As she hit the glowing button, her brain was cloudy.

  “Director Blackhawk. Someone better be dead, or you’re going to be bleeding when I get finished with you,” she muttered, pulling her exhausted body upright. It took all she had.

  “Elizabeth?”

  Immediately, she recognized the voice.

  Her stomach knotted.

  “Cyra? Are you okay? Is Bethe okay?”

  “Yes, we are.”

  That meant one thing.

  “Jesus! Is Chris okay? Has something happened to him?” Her heart started pounding in her
chest. The worst scenarios began flooding her mind. They had a serial killer chasing them, and she immediately wanted to be sick.

  If Chris was hurt…

  Both men were staring at her in the darkened room.

  “He’s not okay,” she whispered. “I’ve done something horrible, and I don’t know what to do.”

  Cyra kept her voice low, in case he headed down the hall. Now she had to hope the woman on the other end would forgive her.

  She knew she didn't deserve it.

  For over a year, she’d marked Elizabeth as the enemy, and she’d been wrong. Cyra had looked at this all the wrong way. Elizabeth was more like a sister-in-law.

  “What did you do? Did you kill him?”

  She was horrified that she had to go there, but that’s all she could think.

  “In a way, yes. Yesterday, I killed his heart. I told him if he didn't leave the FBI, I couldn’t stay married to him. Only, now I realize he’s leaving me in another way. He’s pulling away from our marriage. He’s asleep in that old sports car of his, and he won’t come upstairs.”

  Elizabeth knew that was significant. She recalled that car. They’d had fun in it. In fact, she’d taught him to drive it like he had stolen it.

  She put the phone on speaker.

  Immediately, her heart slowed down.

  “Why did you tell him you were going to leave him?” she asked, not getting it. Chris was pretty easy going, and Elizabeth knew he loved Cyra and Bethe.

  If you looked up ‘dedicated husband’ in the dictionary, his picture was right there next to Callen and Ethan’s.

  Cyra didn't speak at first.

  “You called me, darlin’, not the other way around. It’s best you get this off your chest.”

  She was right.

  “I was jealous. I was upset and I thought that he loved his job, you, and Tony more than me, but I was wrong. He quit, and it’s killing him. You have to get him to come back to work.”

  She listened.

  This freaked her out.

  It reminded her of the Desdemona debacle. She’d let the woman into her life, and Callen paid for it. So, this time, she didn't let Cyra all the way in, and Chris was paying for it.

  Either way, it appeared to be a no win situation for Elizabeth, and it sucked.

  “You realize that I have no romantic attachment to your husband, right? I love Chris, but he’s like my brother. I’d give him a fucking kidney, but I wouldn’t ever behave inappropriately with him.”

  Ethan touched her arm. He could hear the anger in her voice. He wasn’t shocked. Elizabeth didn't like when people played games, especially with the people she loved.

  Cyra sniffled from the other end of the call. “I really believed that there was something there, but now I know there wasn’t. I was wrong, Elizabeth. I’m sorry. I judged you, and I owe you an apology.”

  She wanted to tear the woman a new one. She’d dicked Chris around, and that was unacceptable.

  “Cyra, for the record, I’ve never had sex with your husband, and had you come to me, I would have told you as much. In fact, I’m happily married. I don’t cheat. I love your husband, but just not like that.”

  “I know that now. It was irrational. I thought that I could make him spend more time with me. I thought I could change him, but I can’t. I need you to forgive me.”

  Elizabeth closed her eyes. “I don’t hate you, Cyra. It’s okay. We’ll work this out.”

  “I know I don’t deserve that, but I need him to be okay. I don’t want my husband to hate me, and right now, he does.”

  “He doesn’t, Cyra. Chris doesn’t have a mean bone in his body. He’s the poster boy for gentleman.”

  Elizabeth wanted to point out that she should know that since she was married to him, but that was probably the lack of sleep, pregnancy hormones, and stress talking.

  She was cranky.

  “You have to get him to come back. He’s not able to function without his job. It is part of him. I ripped it out of him, and he’s dying over it.”

  She got it.

  After all, if you did that to her, she’d fail too. Being a Fed wasn’t a job to most of them. It was a calling. To stand in the gore and guts all day long…it took a special kind of person. Either you were born to be a Fed, or you weren’t.

  There were no shades in between.

  It was painful when she went on maternity leave, let alone walking away forever?

  She couldn’t do it.

  You attached yourself to the people you worked with because it was a coping mechanism.

  Chris was bonded to her.

  She was bonded to him.

  They were both bonded to Tony.

  It’s just how it was. Like ducks, they imprinted on each other for the rest of their lives. They were forged in death, pain, and destruction.

  “Take him back.”

  “Cyra,” she began.

  “Please. He’s drinking scotch, sitting in an old car, and staring at pictures of you and Tony. He’s depressed, and I caused this. I’m smart enough to know that I screwed up, and to see that he’s going to resent me when this is all done.”

  “I’ll text him now, and I’ll call him later. I’ll see what I can do.”

  “I’m really sorry. I can’t tell you how horrible I feel that I thought ill of you. I just freaked out. I thought awful things, and it wasn’t fair to you or him. Please save my husband, Elizabeth. Please.”

  Callen brushed a few strands of hair off her face. He was watching her. She’d offered Desdemona friendship and paid dearly because of it. Now she had that choice again.

  “Can I be honest?” she said.

  Cyra was surprised. “Yes. Please.”

  “I’ve kept things from you too.”

  “You have?”

  “Yes. It’s not because I want to sleep with Chris, or because you own his heart and I’m jealous, but because I’ve wanted you to like me. I've wanted you to be my friend for a long time, and I didn't know how to make you see I’m not after your man. I don’t trust easily, Cyra. I’ve been burned, but I swear to you that I’m not trying to get into your husband’s pants.”

  Cyra began crying. “I’m sorry I made you feel like I didn't like you.”

  “It’s okay. I’m not the easiest person to love.”

  She looked over at the men in her life. She knew they were going to support her choices, and that was true love.

  “I don’t have ulterior motives, but I do have a history with Christopher. I’m just trying to stay in his heart because we have a past. He kept me sane when my world fell apart. When I was shot, he held my hand when no one else cared to be at my bedside. Chris has always had my back, and I will always have his. That’s not lust. It’s simply love. I adore Chris because he put his career on the line and kept his word. We aren’t ever going to cheat on our spouses. We’re above sex. We’re best friends.”

  There was a sob. “I want to be your friend. Can we try? I really want to try. I know I can’t talk shop, but I can talk shoes. You’re a girl. You have to like shoes.”

  She laughed.

  This was a risk, but for Chris, she’d take it.

  “I do love shoes. How about as soon as I’m home, we dump the men and kids, get pedicures, and buy some sexy heels to make our guys drool?”

  Cyra laughed for the first time since Chris came home. “I’d like that.”

  “I’ll fix Chris in the morning—just make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid until I can get back there, okay? I’m a little busy with a nutjob.”

  “I can do that. Thank you, Elizabeth.”

  “Call me Lyzee. All my friends do.”

  “Thank you, Lyzee.”

  She hung up.

  Elizabeth let out the breath she was holding. Now came the hard part. She had to save her friend and navigate them all through this.

  Crap!

  This is exactly why she never wanted to make lasting attachments. Before you knew it, you had a whole shitload of peopl
e to take care of in life.

  Who had time for that?

  “That took courage,” Ethan said.

  “You’ve got a brass set,” Callen added. He knew how hard that was for her. Desdemona damaged them all.

  “Yeah, I guess.”

  “What’s wrong?” Ethan asked.

  “I have to hire Chris back.”

  “Okay,” they said together.

  “We’re leaving.”

  “He’ll probably follow you. Chris worked here. He liked it, until you left.”

  “Tony is going to follow, you know he will. There are more universities out here, and that’s Jaxon’s passion. He’ll jump at the chance to put her in academia and out of harm’s way.”

  “Yeah, and?”

  Did they really not see the predicament this made? She stared at the men in her life.

  “Where’s Cyra’s family?”

  “In Damascus…”

  Ethan got it.

  Callen was right behind.

  “By fixing him, I’m breaking her. I’m not being her friend. I’m going to make her hurt even more. He’s going to follow us here, forcing her into more isolation. Who do you think is going to get blamed for that? Let me give you a hint. It’s never the husband. It’s always the spare woman in the picture.”

  “Oh, Lyzee,” Ethan said.

  Callen knew what was happening next.

  “We’re not leaving, are we?”

  She closed her eyes and couldn’t even answer them. She had to make a choice—their happiness or a man who couldn’t live without their friendship.

  Yeah.

  This absolutely sucked.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Thursday Morning

  When he woke, his back and neck were stiff from sleeping in a cold garage in the middle of winter. In fact, his fingers and toes were chilly.

  It was time to get inside.

  Heading in, the house was silent.

  Cyra and Bethe must still be asleep. A part of him was glad. The last thing he wanted was a confrontation. Deep down, he hated arguing. It wasn’t his thing. So instead, he crept though his own house, to get to his office, so he could escape.