Q and A sessions. Now’s as good a time as any. Ask away.
Why do you still ensure Jacob has good care? Doesn’t divorce relinquish you from that responsibility?
My chest tightened. I turned and let the water hit me full in the face. It was only a few moments before my lungs burned and I had to step back. I brushed the water from my face, and straightened my spine. Avoiding the question wasn’t going to change the answer, as much as I loathed it. I wasn’t entirely comfortable with the fact that I’d left him, even this many years later. What kind of wife divorces her husband after he had a mental breakdown? Worse. Because he had a mental breakdown. I sighed and answered Urd’s question.
I owe him that much.
Why?
I left him when he needed me most. What kind of person does that make me? Making sure he’s well cared for is the least I can do.
Why did you leave him?
Without him around . . . I wouldn’t have stayed faithful to him. And there it was. Eventually, my libido would have gotten the best of me. Eventually, I would have cheated on him. Divorcing him felt like the slightly less slimy option.
I finished my shower, dressed quickly, and headed toward the kitchen. I needed coffee and maybe breakfast. I hadn’t thought about how Jacob and I ended in a long time, and putting into words the reasons I’d filed for divorce left me hollow. I watched my feet hurry down the hallway, lost in memories, so I didn’t see Daniel step out of the guest bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist. I skidded to halt and watched my hands as if they had become someone else’s. They rose in a weak stop motion, brushed his chest, and slowed to a stop, my fingertips against him. I stood there for a moment, stunned by both the contact and the fact that I’d avoided taking both of us down in a pile of arms and legs. His chest was lean and muscled, with the perfect amount of hair tapering to a line that was cut off by the towel. He smelled like soap. Like rosemary soap. Like my soap. I felt my fingers curl into the hair on his chest slightly and thrilled at the lightning that went through my palm. The tingling sensations moved lower and I snatched my hands away. Eyes, I told myself as I stared at his chest. Eyes. His eyes are up there. Look at his eyes. I finally did what I told myself to do, and saw the color go from his standard brown to amber.
“Sorry,” I mumbled and scooted past him, heat filling my face. I didn’t run to the kitchen, but it was damned close.
The sparring was one thing, and thrilling, but having him naked, well damn near naked, and his bare chest against my hands was too much. Too close. I could so easily have run my hands down over his stomach and loosened the towel. I shook my head. This was getting worse. And it was a bad idea. A really, really bad idea. I’d had a previous lover I worked with, and it didn’t end well. Which made for anger and insults whenever we happened to run across each other. I’d prefer to simply revert to social niceties, but he’d have none of it. I’d resolved to limit my contact with coworkers, but my resolve was slipping. I’d never been tested to this extent.
He is an attractive man, Urd said.
I noticed that. Now I’m going to do my best to forget it.
Ah, yes. You avoid physical relationships with men who work with you. Tell me again why this is.
To avoid drama.
It seems drama finds you anyway.
No shit. I poured a large mug of coffee, closed my eyes, and inhaled its aroma. With my eyes still closed I took a sip and did not think about how good Daniel looked in a towel. Really, I didn’t.
Daniel had set the papers about the court case on the kitchen table. I glanced through them but didn’t understand much of it, which reminded me that I needed to phone Marcus Wesley.
“Ms. Byrne, you will have to tell me how you knew to obtain the security footage I have in my office,” Mr. Wesley said.
“Does it show Mr. Bradley and Rick taking me?”
“The casino’s footage shows a man practically carrying you from the casino and into a vehicle. It isn’t Mr. Bradley, so I assume it’s Rick. Several blocks south of the casino, you were seen on a bank building’s security system footage being transferred from the vehicle into a wing under construction at an elderly care facility.”
“What about Mr. Bradley?”
“It shows him leaving the facility with the man that took you from the casino.” I could hear the smile in his voice. It wasn’t a smoking gun, but at least it was something. “You still haven’t told me how you knew to ask for the footage and for what time frames.”
“I prefer not to disclose that.” Although Sean didn’t take the footage he’d found, I didn’t know how legal his snooping was. He, through me, provided Mr. Wesley with the dates, timestamps, and institutions we needed to contact to get copies of the videos.
“Not even to your lawyer?”
“Let me know if that becomes a problem,” I said. “So, what do these papers say?”
“Simply that Mr. Bradley has filed a civil lawsuit against you. He’s been as vague as he can about the details of how you violated his rights. We’ll have to file a response to the charges with the court in a week and I would expect an initial hearing in front of a judge in about six weeks. I’ll start drafting it and call you later to discuss it.”
“Is there anything I should be doing in the meantime?”
“Not yet.”
“Thank you for your help.”
I got up and warmed my coffee as Daniel walked into the kitchen.
“What’s the agenda for today?” he said. He leaned over, his chest against my back, and grabbed a mug. He held it out and I managed to get every drop of coffee into his cup, despite the pressure of his body against mine. I put the coffee pot back as he pivoted and got the cream from the refrigerator. I both wanted him against me again and feared it. I couldn’t have another work affair. I just couldn’t.
I cleared my throat, remembering his earlier question. “I’ll be here working through my emails, making phone calls, and scheduling appointments.”
“Do you need to leave the house?”
I nodded. “I need to pick up a few things from the grocery store.”
He tilted his head. “Do you always go to the store on the same day?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Keeping the same routine makes it easier to know when and where you’ll be.”
“But we’ve only been back for a week. How would he know when I go?”
“You’d be surprised how easy that information is to get.”
For a long moment, I wished I’d cursed Rick instead of Mr. Bradley. Because of Rick I’d experienced amnesia, and all the terror that goes along with not knowing who you are. He’d shown me a level of depravity I hadn’t known existed, and his fixation on me now had me in the untenable position of both needing Daniel close by at all times and being scattered because of how alluring I found him. Now I couldn’t even live my normal life. “Is it always this way?”
“What way?”
“The . . .” I almost said victim, but I couldn’t be that. Wouldn’t be that. I shook my head roughly from side to side, trying to ignore the burning in my eyes. “People who hire you. We have to change. We can’t just live our lives. The ones who want to hurt us don’t have to do anything.”
“It’s a game to them. For some, the game is half the fun.”
“Half the . . .” My damned life wasn’t my own anymore. I couldn’t even go to the store without congressional approval. “I’ve got to pick up some things I’m out of.”
He nodded. “Better to go earlier than you usually go if it has to be today.”
“Okay then. Let’s go now.” I practically slammed my mug in the sink, still half full of coffee, and I snatched my purse off the kitchen counter.
Daniel drove, which was a good thing. I navigated from the passenger’s seat. He pulled into a parking space, slid the gear into park, and left the parking brake off. I looked at the store, then at him, then back at the store. “Really? We have to park in Timbuktu?”
“Yes, ma�
��am.”
“Why?” I said, opening my door and getting out of the car.
“There’s no one parked near us. It’s easier to see who’s around when we leave.”
“Unless someone parks next to us between now and then.”
“That would be suspicious.”
“You’re suspicious all the time.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Would you please stop ‘yes ma’aming’ me?”
“No, ma’am.”
I glared at him, then stalked toward the store. He gave me a bit more space than usual, but remained my shadow.
I strode through the store and threw items in the basket I carried with me. I chose the self-checkout stand. About halfway through the scanning process, strong hands gripped my shoulders. Finally, Daniel must have understood. Known how frustrated I was. He wanted to help. He was helping. “Daniel—”
Instead of his amber-flecked eyes, I looked into dark brown ones. I jerked my head back, stunned. Rick. It was Rick. And memories flooded me. Too many. I knew they weren’t mine. For some reason, they didn’t hit me like they had before. Still there were too many of them, and I couldn’t think through them.
“Hello, darling.”
A jar slid from my grasp and shattered on the floor, spraying tomato sauce everywhere.
Rick cursed and leapt backward. Time halted, and I had time to see everyone else at the checkout turn to look, as if I’d hit slow forward, at the idiot with slippery fingers. The short scream one woman let out went on too long. My eyes roamed over the faces and finally saw Daniel’s. He was already in motion, but seemed too slow. My eternal gaze came full circle and rested back on Rick’s face. And time leapt forward. Too bright. Too loud. Too much.
“Bitch.” He hissed through gritted teeth, glared, and reached for me. I couldn’t move. I could feel the hard, cold lines of the checkout machine through my pants. I could see the rage emanating from Rick. I could even smell the spaghetti sauce from the broken jar. But I couldn’t seem to force my body to do anything other than stare. Daniel shoved Rick aside, grabbed me, threw me over his shoulder, and ran from the store. His shoulder punched into my stomach on each step, and I felt like a rag doll. I pushed against his back, trying to keep my head from banging into him.
“Get the keys,” he said as if I were no heavier than a jacket he’d casually slung over his shoulder.
“Where . . . are . . . they?” I said between gulps of air.
“Right front pocket.”
I tried to cram one hand into his pocket, the other still protecting my face. Between the movement of his hips and me on the roller-coaster ride from helheim, it was futile.
By the time we made it to the car, I still hadn’t gotten the keys, but Daniel didn’t hesitate. My feet slammed into the ground as he swept me from his shoulder. I stumbled, but kept my balance. Within seconds, he had the keys out, the doors unlocked, and me safely stowed inside.
I expected our ride home to be as wild as our escape from the store, but Daniel drove with care, his eyes darting from mirror to road and back again. We pulled into the garage and his eyes remained on the rearview mirror as he closed it with the opener and turned off the car.
Still considering the rearview mirror, he said, “Are you okay?”
I couldn’t answer. Shivers wracked me, and I wrapped my arms around myself.
“Amanda?”
I turned my tear-streaked face up to him, holding myself tighter as my teeth started to chatter.
“Oh,” he said and pulled me against his chest. He held me tight, like he’d done when we were sparring, like I thought he would at the store when I felt his, er Rick’s, hand on my shoulder. It was warm and safe and quiet. “You’re okay.” He rubbed my back. “You’re okay.”
We stayed like that for some time, until my body stilled, and my tears stopped. Still I didn’t move. I didn’t want to leave his arms. I didn’t want to face the world. I wanted to stay here, where no one could get me.
He took my shoulders gently, setting me back and looking at me. He wiped the tears from my cheeks and tucked my hair behind my ear again, cupping my face. “Feeling better?”
“I . . . I think so.” My voice came out quiet and raspy.
He nodded, setting me in my seat and brushing his hand once over my hair. “You’re okay.”
I nodded, not sure if I really believed him. “Thank you.” My voice was so quiet, I could barely hear it.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I’m going to take a bath,” I said, and I crawled from the car.
“Didn’t you just shower?”
“Yes.” He didn’t need to know that I did my best crying in the bathtub.
Chapter Thirty
“You should consider canceling,” Daniel said.
Tears sprang to my eyes, but I closed them tightly. “I’ve had this appointment scheduled for almost a month. There’s got to be something we can do so I can at least work.”
“Have you ever worked with the person you’re working with today?”
“No.”
“How many people know about it?”
“The entire Hearthfire coven and anyone they might have told.”
“How many is that?”
“I don’t know. A lot.”
He shook his head. “Too many people. He may have found out where you plan to be. It’s too dangerous.”
“Damn it! It’s not like I can read his mi . . .” My voice faded, and a sly smile crept over my face. I couldn’t read his mind, but I knew someone who could. I grabbed my cell phone.
Miriam answered my call as she normally did, gleaning information from my mind. “’Manda! Do you need me to come . . . oh, you’re not alone. Good!”
“Can you help out? He can’t change your memories if he doesn’t know you’re reading him.”
“Give me a second to find him.”
“Thanks. I’m putting you on speaker.”
“Who’s this?” Daniel said.
“Miriam. She’s the best damned telepath in the States. The one I asked to try and read you.”
“Can’t say I’m the best, but then again, I can’t say I’m not. ’Manda, since I can’t read anyone with you, the voice must belong to the bodyguard you told me about.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Daniel said.
“Nice to meet—” Miriam hissed in a breath and choked.
“What is it?” I said.
“Don’t mess with this one.”
“I’m doing my best here.”
“I’m serious, ’Manda. This one’s . . . ugh.” I could practically hear her shudder through the phone.
“I know.”
“No, you can’t know. He’s . . . I can’t even . . . ugh!” I heard her take a deep breath and blow it out. “He can’t believe he missed you at the store; he thinks he pushed it trying for you then, and he’s not sure what he’s going to do next. He doesn’t want another near miss. He’s warning himself to not act without a plan. He’s so . . .” She made another awful noise. “Blessed Psyche, do you need anything else? I need to get out of his mind and into a bleach bath.”
“That should do it. Thank you.” I hadn’t even considered how reading his mind would affect her, but I should have. “Miriam, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have asked you—”
“You most certainly should have! You’d do the same for me.”
Gratitude flooded me, and I held back tears. “Thank you. And of course I would.”
I hung up the phone, dejectedly looking at it and then up at Daniel. “I guess it’s off then; I better call and cancel, and then I’ll have to cancel with the goddess; this just keeps getting better.”
“Hold on that,” Daniel said.
“What?”
“Now may be the best time.”
“Didn’t you hear what she just said? Helheim! It was your idea to cancel in the first place.”
“I know, but if your friend’s right, he doesn’t have a plan. If he acts now, it’ll be impulsively
, which means he’s more prone to mistakes. The longer we wait, the more dangerous he’ll become. He’s not quite ready to act, and he’s probably not hit a tipping point where he feels he has to. We’re sitting in a sweet spot.”
“This is the sweet spot?”
Daniel nodded, and I swallowed the nausea rising in my throat.
Chapter Thirty-one
My appointment, a fertility ceremony, was held at Lady Falcon and Gray Hawk’s home. They lived in a northern suburb of Denver, and their house looked much the same as everyone else’s on the block, except for the “My other car is a broom” bumper sticker on the car parked in the driveway.
Daniel parked on the street in front of their house. I moved to open my door, but Daniel grabbed my arm. I started at his touch and met his eyes. He pulled his hand away.
“Even though I don’t believe he’ll try anything, there’s a chance I’m wrong,” he said.
I nodded.
“Each time you go out, it’ll get more dangerous.”
“You’re the one who thought it would be okay to come.”
“It probably is, but you need to think about everything you do.”
“What does that mean?”
“You almost got out of the car.”
“Yeah.”
“Which means you’re alone out there until I can get out and around to your side. From now on, you’ll need to be close to me if we’re not in the house. Let me open doors for you and help you get in and out of cars. Pretend I’m your very, very attentive boyfriend.”
I failed not to blush at his last statement, remembering how he looked in the towel and how his chest felt against my hand. I gave him a demure nod. “But why the change? I’ve been getting out of the car alone since we got home.”
He scrubbed at his chin for a moment before answering me. “Your friend’s reaction let me know that we’re dealing with someone more extreme than I originally suspected. I’d prefer to take more precautions.”
“I could have told you that.”
“When the information comes from . . . never mind that. Before we go in, brief me on what to expect.”
“Have you ever been to any pagan ceremonies?”
Power Play (Amanda Byrne Book 1) Page 16