My boss likely would have a few choice words for me.
“Never mind. Don’t mention it to him. I’ll tell him when he calls.”
“I’d appreciate that,” she sighed in relief. “Is there a reason why you’re acting so weird?”
“Weird?”
“Yeah, about this woman. She lived in Timor-Leste for six months, she knows the area. And from what I read about her, she’s used to flying around the world on her own. She doesn’t seem like the type of woman who needs to be taken care of.”
Anaya wasn’t that type of woman, and she’d likely not be happy I was treating her like she was, yet I still wasn’t going to let her out of my sight until I knew she was safe and sound back in the United States. At least that was the story I was telling myself and it was far easier to go with that than admit I simply wanted to be around her.
“Is there something more going on?” Violet asked when I didn’t answer her fast enough.
“Nope. Everything’s gravy. I just don’t feel comfortable with her flying back alone.”
And I didn’t want to think about why the thought of her leaving and me never seeing her again had my gut twisting.
“Right,” Violet muttered, her tone full of unasked questions. “You’ll let me know about my brother?”
“No, I won’t babysit him and check in with you, but I will take his back if he needs it.”
“But—”
“I know you’re worried. But he’s a big boy and you know he’d be pissed if I was keeping tabs on him and checking in with you.”
“Fine. You’re right,” she huffed.
“We’ll call in after we hit the city tonight.”
I disconnected and shoved my phone in my back pocket.
“My sister?” Declan asked from behind me.
It was disturbing how quiet he could be for such a large man.
“She’s concerned about your mental health.” I smirked. “I assured her you’re the asshole you always are, and your disposition is that of a starved crocodile. She seemed to be satisfied with my description.”
“Fuck. She’s pregnant, she doesn’t need to be worried about me.” Dec scrubbed his hands over his face.
Without warning Dec did something he’d never done, he shared. “When I was a kid, about seven, I lived in a foster home that was so wicked, I swear at seven I could feel it. I just knew. There were two of us boys sharing a room, next to us there was another bedroom, four girls lived in there. Every weekend my foster father would leave with one of the girls and be gone from Friday afternoon to Sunday night. No one talked about it, no one questioned where they went, no one asked why he chose the girl he did. It was business as usual. But one day the other boy who was older than me asked one of the girls where they went. Natalie refused to tell him. But not only that, even at my age I could feel the fear rollin’ off her.
“I’d been there almost six months when I came home from school and she’d hanged herself in my bedroom. First time I ever saw a dead person.” Declan stopped and shook his head, disgust clear as day. “I’ll never forget her hanging there. The cops came, the ME, the house was swarmin’. None of the other girls would talk, until a week later when the social worker and the police came back. Natalie was pregnant. She was thirteen when she killed herself. The five of us were removed that day and the Petersons were arrested.”
Declan paused and blew out a long, tortured breath. “Anaya reminds me of Natalie. Same color hair, same soft eyes even though they’ve seen more than they should. It doesn’t help that Anaya was thirteen when she was kidnapped and trafficked. All of this is dredging up shit I long ago buried.”
“Do you think it might be time to stop burying it and start dealing with it?”
“Fuck no. Once you break the seal on the vault all sorts of ghosts start making their way to the surface.”
“And Violet? You ever gonna open up to her?”
“That’s a hell no. She had a good family who adopted her, she doesn’t need to dwell on my shit. She has Jaxon, they live a good life, and they’re working on giving me nieces and nephews.”
“But—”
“Serious as shit, Kyle, I don’t want her knowing anything. I didn’t live through shit to dirty my sister up. I’ll talk to Anaya and I’ll keep my issues to myself.”
Ugly jealousy reared its head. I had no claim on Anaya, but I’d seen it once before when Declan was talking about her and I just saw it again—he admired her.
“If you need someone to talk to about all that shit, I’m here to listen,” I told him.
“’Preciate it. But I’m straight.”
No he was not straight, he wasn’t even bent, he was fuckin’ broken and refused to ask for help.
Declan took off back toward the house and I stood on the beach a little while longer staring out at the water. Dec’s childhood had been hellacious, I didn’t think his time in the CIA had been any better. Some of my earlier anger toward him waned, and I hoped to God he’d reach out instead of bottling it up.
Declan Crenshaw was a ticking time bomb waiting to explode and I wanted Anaya clear of the blast.
Chapter 5
I was half-sulking, half-berating myself for lashing out the way I had.
I’d said too much.
I hated thinking about that time in my life and every time I did, my skin crawled. I could remember every last detail down to what the metal cage had felt like as the bars dug into my sides when I tried to lie down. I remember what the room looked like, what each girl had sounded like as she sobbed, what they’d said, how much the man who bought me had paid.
My life had been worth a whopping eighty-five thousand dollars. I was thirteen and untouched. My price was higher than the others. I was told I was special—a treasure.
But the truth was, I was a nobody. No one missed a foster kid when they wound up gone.
The knock at the door made me jump. I knew I was hiding out but I didn’t want to face Kyle. I slowly walked to the door, needing every step to pull myself together.
Shockingly, Declan was standing there instead of Kyle.
“May I come in?”
I absolutely did not want to go for round two with the man. He was infuriating but I stepped to the side and allowed him to enter anyway.
His gaze went around the plain room. It was ugly and bland with wood paneling covering the bottom half of the wall, the top half was painted white, and the trim and closet doors painted a glossy black. The color scheme made no sense and it left your eye fighting for a focal point when you added in the baby blue and white comforter.
“Interesting décor,” Declan noted.
“Is that what you came in for? To discuss the homeowner’s decorating style?”
His brow creased and he sighed. “I deserved that.”
I didn’t respond. What he deserved was a kick in the balls for being an asshole, but I kept my retort to myself. I had to work with him over the next few days and there was already enough tension between us. Threatening physical violence wouldn’t do anything but add to it.
“I owe you an apology.”
My face must’ve registered surprise because Declan sighed again. “I was a complete douche and let my personal shit get the better of me.”
He paused and once again glanced around the room. When his eyes came back to mine, they were unguarded and troubled. “My parents died when I was a kid. With no family to take us, my sister and I were put in the system and separated. I guess the social workers thought it would be easier to adopt us out individually. Not to mention, there were no state run orphanages that allowed boys and girls to live together. Violet was adopted quickly. I was not.”
Holy shit.
“I’m sorry, Declan. How old were you when your parents died?”
“Three, just like you.”
My body jerked and my eyes drifted closed. The funny thing about that age was, you couldn’t remember but you could. I had some vague recollections but not enough to know if they were ac
tual memories.
“Damn,” I whispered.
“I know it doesn’t make it right, but I thought I owed you an explanation. When we first met, I didn’t think I’d have an issue with this assignment. But the more intel we got on the orphanage, the more shit started creeping up. Things I long ago buried.”
“I get it,” I told him.
“I suppose you do. What happened earlier won’t happen again,” he vowed.
I figured he meant what he said, but trauma has a way of bubbling to the surface at the worst times. The tiniest things could trigger a memory and you’re left fighting to push it back.
“If this is too much—”
“It’s not. I have it under control. If you’re worried about us keeping you safe, you don’t have to be.”
“I’m not worried about me. I’m worried about you and what being at the orphanage will bring up.”
His lips tipped up into a sad smile.
“’Preciate your concern, especially after I was such a twat, but I’ll be fine. How are you holding up?”
“I’m fine as long as I don’t think about it,” I told him honestly. “It was a long time ago. I’d like to think I’ve moved on.”
“You and me both.” He chuckled without humor. “But we both know the venom is just under the surface eating away at our insides, fighting to get out. Time doesn’t erase the memories.” He was right, time didn’t. And I didn’t think there was anything, time or otherwise, that would dull the horror. “I’m glad you were rescued in time.”
“Sorry to interrupt, but we need to talk about tonight,” Kyle said from the doorway.
Declan’s eyes cut to Kyle and with a nod he agreed, “You’re not interrupting. We were done anyway.”
I was grateful Kyle had shown up when he had, I needed to stop thinking about the past, stop with the idiotic daydreams about Kyle, and start concentrating on helping the girls escape Amisha.
I followed the men into the living room that was no better than the bedroom. With so many different patterns it was enough to make you dizzy. Only instead of white on the walls above the wood paneling this room was Pepto-Bismol pink. No joke. Bright pink that made no sense and matched nothing in the room and made the brown couch look dingier than it already did.
A map was spread out on the coffee table and I knelt next to it to get a better look. Kyle sat on one couch and Declan took the one opposite from him.
“We’re here.” Kyle pointed. “We’ll take the direct route through the center of the city to Amisha’s house. But our egress will be around the city, we’ll zigzag our way back here. Each time we go to recon we’ll take a different route, both there and back, but for tonight we can go direct.”
Declan picked up one of the aerial images I’d provided and studied it.
“Tex confirmed the building across the way from the house is abandoned, but we can expect transients. I still think it’s our best option to watch the house. Unless you have an idea.”
I looked up from the map to find Declan looking at me.
“You’re asking me?”
“You’re the one that pointed out you’ve spent time in the city. We haven’t. Do you have any suggestions?”
“I do but it’s risky,” I answered.
“Hit us with it,” Kyle encouraged.
“There’s an apartment building here.” I pointed to the map. “From the roof you have a better view of the front of the house. You’re right about the transients and we have to take into consideration they’ll talk. No doubt they won’t give us trouble when we’re there, but come morning they’ll sell us out. We have a better chance sneaking around the apartment building unseen.”
“Have you been on the roof?” Kyle asked.
“Yeah. There’s an access door on the third floor. If we use the apartment building, I suggest we split up—”
“No fucking way,” Kyle interrupted. “We stay together.”
“Here me out before you shoot me down. If someone sees the three of us together, we’re basically screwed. But there’s four sets of staircases. If we split up and each use a different one, meeting on the third floor, if someone happens to see one of us, it wouldn’t be so alarming.”
“She’s right,” Declan said. “We’ll use the apartment building. What else can you tell us?”
Kyle didn’t look pleased as I told them everything I remembered about the three-story building. Amisha’s house wasn’t in the best area of the city, but neither was it in the ghetto. The apartments were decent but not fancy and they lacked security, which was perfect.
“I’ll go up first and clear the third floor and check out the roof. When I’m done, you send up Anaya, and make your way to the south side stairwell,” Declan told Kyle.
With a sharp nod Kyle conceded. I started to feel funny, Declan had agreed flat out my idea was a good one, and even though Kyle didn’t want to split up he, too, had seen the benefits of the higher vantage point and he’d given in. They were both watching me with something that looked a lot like respect, and the longer they did it the more I came to understand the funny feeling that was swirling around in my stomach felt a lot like happiness. I felt useful, respected—they’d heard me out and didn’t have a problem switching their plan to mine. It felt good to be considered, to be useful, to be heard, but mostly to be valued. But it was Kyle and the warmth in his gaze that made me the happiest.
“Tonight is recon only,” Declan reminded me.
“Okay.”
“Seriously, Anaya, no matter what we see we do not engage. Before we make our move, we need to know the players and see if there’s a schedule Amisha keeps.”
“I know.”
“Then why do you look like I need to be worried?” Declan pushed.
“I said I understood, not that I liked it. Every night that goes by, those girls are being hurt.”
The happiness I was feeling fled and all that was left was pain and disgust.
“They are.” Declan’s tone had softened. “But you have to be alive to save them. And if we rush in before we have all the intel, we need…”
Declan let his sentence hang. I knew what he was saying, I didn’t need him to finish.
“I get it.”
“Good. We straight, Kyle?”
“Yep,” he clipped.
“Great. I’m gonna grab a snack and shower and we’ll hit the road in an hour.” Declan stood.
“What about a car?” I asked. “We took a taxi here.”
Declan smiled wide and shook his head in amusement. “We’ll borrow one.”
When Declan left the room, I turned to Kyle and inquired, “Did he mean we’ll steal one?”
“It’s not stealing if you return it.”
“Um…” I didn’t know what to say.
Kyle chuckled and smiled. “Don’t worry, we know what we’re doing.”
“I hope so,” I grumbled.
I wasn’t sure stealing a car was the best plan, but I had no choice but to go with it. And if Kyle said they had it under control, I trusted him.
“Are you hungry? We’re gonna be out most of the night. If you wanna eat you better do it now.”
Food? Was he kidding? I was already in knots and thinking about Amisha and her house of horrors made me want to throw up. The last thing I needed was food in my belly.
“I’m not hungry.”
He studied me for a long time and looked like he wanted to say something but he refrained.
“Everything good with Dec?” he asked instead of pressing me about eating.
“Yeah. He apologized and explained.”
Kyle’s forehead creased and his shock couldn’t be missed. “Good.”
“Does that surprise you?”
“Yeah, Declan is a vault of secrets. He doesn’t share and he rarely apologizes. Glad he did though. You didn’t need the shit he shoveled at you earlier.”
Again, Kyle looked like he wanted to say more but he stopped himself. I wished he would’ve told me what he was t
hinking but I wouldn’t ask. And he was right, I didn’t deserve Declan’s attitude. But now that I understood why Declan had acted like he had a pole shoved up his ass I couldn’t blame him. People dealt with their emotions in all sorts of ways. Declan’s response was to lash out when he couldn’t deal with his, mine was to wall myself off as soon as I started to feel something.
Neither were necessarily right, or healthy, but you had to do what you had to do to keep the demons at bay.
Declan had indeed hotwired a car, and to my surprise the junker made it across the city. Now, the thing starting again to get us home was up for debate.
Declan had already entered the building, leaving Kyle and me near the entrance I was going to use when there was movement on the pathway.
Before I understood what was happening, Kyle had me pressed up against the building, his big body concealing mine. My insides seized and desperation had edged out the fear. Desperation that was so fierce I couldn’t push it back but neither could I make my legs work to flee.
I was paralyzed.
“Breathe, Anaya,” he whispered.
I hadn’t realized I was holding my breath, but when I exhaled my lungs burned.
“That’s it,” he cajoled. “Just relax. I’m not going to hurt you.”
I was beyond comprehending his words. We were connected from hip to chest. But his hands were flat against the brick exterior. I was trapped. There was nowhere to go—not that I could get my muscles to work to fight him off.
“You’re safe, Anaya. I need you to breathe or you’re going to pass out. I’m not going to hurt you.”
He was still whispering, his head was lowered and his mouth was close to my ear. So close I could feel his minty breath on my skin. Too close.
I tried to exhale again but panic started to bubble up. Kyle had me boxed in and I hadn’t been ready for it.
“Look at me,” he snapped.
I couldn’t move. I was completely frozen. Shit, I was doing exactly what I’d told Declan I wouldn’t do.
One of Kyle’s hands moved under my chin and gently lifted my face, forcing me to meet his stare. And what I saw wasn’t making it any easier to breathe. There was so much concern and understanding now I wanted run away for different reasons. He knew. There was no missing what a freak I was. We couldn’t pretend this away like we’d done on the plane. I couldn’t change the subject and steer us to something more comfortable. My crazy had slapped him in the face and no amount of him being nice about the situation would ever make him forget.
Kyle Page 5