Hard to Let Go

by Laura Kaye

  Eyes on her screen and fingers flying over the keyboard, Marz added, “He’s rough around the edges, but he’s a good guy.”

  Crossing her arms, she very specifically tried not to think of all the ways in which Beckett could be rough. “Uh-huh.” What the hell is this about?

  “And he really wouldn’t have hurt you that day he pulled the gun on you.”

  She sorta wanted to bang her head against the nearest hard surface. Why did she feel like she was getting a sales pitch? “I know.” When he didn’t respond, her shoulders relaxed.

  Maybe two minutes of silence had passed before Marz looked over his shoulder at her and said, “Beckett just takes a while to let anybody get close, ya know?”

  “Derek,” Kat said, exasperated. “Why the heck are we talking about Beckett right now?”

  He shrugged and turned back to the laptop. “Just sayin’.”

  She glared at the back of his head. First Jeremy and now this. Question was, what the heck did Marz think he knew and how did he know it? Had Beckett said something to him about what’d happened between them? Because if he had, she was going to pull his tongue out of his mouth and tie it in a knot, cartoon style.

  “This machine is kind of a mess,” he said. “Typical government piece of crap.” Marz turned and smiled at her. “Whenever our guns jammed in Afghanistan, we’d always remind each other that our weapons had been brought to us by the lowest bidder. Kind of a random memory . . .”

  The musing look on his face made Kat smile. “Can’t imagine what it was like over there for you guys.”

  He clicked through a few more windows. “Long periods of boredom punctuated by moments of intense, balls-to-the-wall crisis.”

  “Oh, so, sorta like now, then?” She’d meant it as a joke, but there was a truth to the statement that wasn’t one bit funny. Not at all.

  “Roger that,” Marz said. “You know what, before you do any more logging on, I want to clean this up and build in some new security features. That okay with you?”

  Across the room, Emilie, Easy, and Jenna stepped through the door.

  “Of course,” Kat said. “Just grab me when you’re ready.”

  Marz winked. “Not sure how Nick would feel about me grabbing you, but I’ll definitely let you know.”

  Kat rolled her eyes and hoped like hell that Marz didn’t notice the heat crawling into her cheeks—or read into it. Because she’d been grabbed pretty damn good today. And, no, Nick probably wouldn’t be too happy to know it. Not that he got a freaking vote about who did or didn’t grab her, for crap’s sake.

  “You ready for me?” Emilie asked with a big smile as she approached the desk.

  The grin Marz gave her nearly had Kat blushing even more. “What kind of question is that? Always.” Marz rose to his feet, sending Eileen scurrying again. “Oh, damn. Sorry, Eileen. She keeps sleeping against the shoe on my prosthesis and I can’t feel her.”

  Kat scooped the silly-looking dog into her arms and tucked her against her side. The puppy’s ears were so big they were out of proportion to the rest of her body. “She just wants to be near you, don’t you, sweet girl.” Eileen’s huge tongue swiped across her cheek, making Kat laugh. “That’s just about enough of that, you mutt.”

  Marz clasped hands with Easy across the desk. “Hey, man. How you doing?”

  Tall, athletic, and dark-skinned, Easy was probably the guy on Nick’s team with whom Kat had talked the least. He seemed very reserved, even a little distant—with everyone except for Jenna, that was. Easy’s gaze flicked toward Kat, but he gave Marz a nod. “Day by day.”

  “True dat.” Marz rubbed his stomach. “Okay, food. Food is a priority.”

  Jenna chuckled. “I’ve heard that about you.” With her bright blue eyes and dark red hair, Jenna was absolutely beautiful, even with the fading yellowish bruises surrounding her left eye. And seeing that reminder of what her brother’s enemies had done to this young woman further reaffirmed Kat’s decision to help Nick and the team. Every single person here had paid something or risked something or was contributing something to try to make this whole situation right. Kat was determined to do so, too.

  Marz held out his hands. “Can’t be helped. My reputation precedes me.”

  The five of them made their way across the gym, and Kat felt more than a little like the odd woman out. Both couples were hand in hand, catching up with each other about totally normal things after being separated for a bit, while she trailed behind, Eileen still in her arms.

  Out in the stairwell, Marz said, “You know what? I better let Eileen out before we settle in with dinner.”

  Kat waved him off. “I’ll do it. Go ahead and I’ll catch up.” Given that she’d gone right from being with Beckett to arguing with Nick to losing it over what’d nearly happened to Jeremy, she wouldn’t mind the alone time to pull herself together.

  Outside, she put Eileen down on the gravel of the fenced-in parking lot and watched as the puppy meandered around, sniffing every little thing, until she made it over to the grass that ran around the outside of the lot. The rain had tapered off to a foggy mist that, together with the dark clouds, made it look even later than it was.

  Leaning against the brick wall of the building, Kat rubbed her eyes and yawned. She’d been here less than a week and was already exhausted. She couldn’t imagine how the rest of them had been handling this situation for going on a month now. Even when you had downtime, you could never completely relax. Not when men with rocket launchers attacked your home in the middle of the night. For one.

  Sighing, she dropped her hands. And saw Beckett getting out of his SUV on the other side of the parking lot. For a long moment she studied his gait. He walked with a small limp that seemed to favor his left leg. She knew it resulted from a grenade explosion in Afghanistan, but it didn’t seem to slow him down any, that was for sure.

  He turned her way. Great.

  Kat clapped her hands together. “Eileen? Come here, girl,” she called. We have to go in now! So I can avoid what’s sure to be an awkward conversation! Because I don’t need another one of those today! Although, maybe this was the perfect time to see what Beckett had told Marz. Still, hello awkward.

  Near the line of motorcycles, Eileen’s head popped up and the puppy looked Kat’s way. But then she went right back to whatever she was doing.

  Not that it mattered now that Beckett was halfway across the parking lot. Coming her way. And, just for the record, looking hot as fuck in the tee-jeans-boot combo. With his broad shoulders and thick thighs, the man filled out his clothing in a way that left little to the imagination. Which she didn’t really have to rely on now, did she? She’d seen the goods and knew that nice as those jeans looked on him, they looked about a million times hotter hanging around his knees.

  Which was not a helpful thought right now.

  And then he lifted his eyes and pinned her to the wall with that intense blue gaze.

  So much for hoping he might just ignore her and go inside. Because he wasn’t heading for the door. He was heading right for her.

  Her heart tripped into a sprint and she shivered as her memory treated her to a quick series of images from the last time he’d held her pinned against a wall. Taking a slow and hopefully calming breath, she met his gaze and waited until he came to a stop in front of her. Close enough that if she reached out a hand, she could grab his shirt and haul him all the way to her. Low, low in her belly, her muscles clenched in complete support of that idea. Freaking traitorous body.

  “I want to say something, if that’s okay with you,” he said, his eyes searching hers.

  His seriousness made her bite back the snark that sat on the tip of her tongue. “Sure,” she said, not having the first idea what to expect.

  “What you offered to do in there . . . it’s a dangerous thing, Kat.”

  Annnd, of course. Here we go. Frustrated, she pressed her hand to her eyes. The last thing she had energy for was another fight. “Beckett, this has been s
ettled—”

  “Wait.” His fingers curled around hers and pulled her hand away from her face. Still holding it, he stepped closer. “I’m fucking this up.”

  It was almost like they spoke mutually unintelligible languages, for as much as she understood this guy. “Fucking what up?”

  He shook his head and let out a harsh breath. “Thank you. What I wanted to say is thank you. You don’t have to do this, and not a single person would blame you if you changed your mind.”

  “But I’m not gonna—”

  “I know.” He dragged his thumb across her knuckles. Back and forth, back and forth. And the heat of his touch spread through her whole body, making her nerve endings come to life and yearn for more . . . everywhere. “And that’s why I’m thanking you. We need what you have.” Beckett cleared his throat and looked off to the side for a long moment. When he looked back to her, he shrugged. “Yeah, so, that’s what I wanted to say.”

  He released her hand and shoved his into his pockets.

  Well. Okay, then. “I appreciate that,” she said.

  He tilted his head and nailed her with that intense blue stare. “Just be smart about it. All right?”

  Kat rolled her eyes. He couldn’t stop while he was ahead, could he? “Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence. I might not have the same expertise all of you do in covert operations, but I’m not an idiot, Beckett. Like I would be anything but smart knowing people’s safety is on the line.”

  She threw her hands out and shook her head. Ugh. Why bother? Without waiting for him to respond, she made for the door, stabbed her finger against the buttons on the pass-code box, and grabbed the handle. Then something else came to mind. Might as well get all the fun stuff out on the table, right?

  She turned back to him, not surprised to find him scowling at her. “While we’re having this awesome conversation, let me add a request for you to please keep what happened earlier quiet. Not sure why Derek felt the need to be matchmaking a while ago, but I’m really hoping it’s not because you said something. ’Kay? Thanks.”

  Stepping inside, she remembered Eileen.

  “Oh, and bring in the damn dog.”

  FUCK THIS, BECKETT thought. He followed Kat inside and made a mental note to come back for the dog later. He hadn’t said one goddamn word about what they’d done. To anyone, let alone Marz. For Christ’s sake. As if he wanted anyone else to know.

  No way he was letting that accusation stand unaddressed.

  He stalked inside in time to see the door to the first-floor tattoo shop clicking shut. The stairwell remained otherwise quiet, so his gut said Kat had retreated to the quiet of the now-closed Hard Ink Tattoo. Perfect.

  Beckett crossed the stairwell, his boot steps echoing inside the concrete and metal. The second he rounded the corner into the mostly dark lounge at the back of the shop, his gaze landed on Kat pacing in the middle of the square space.

  Backlit by a security light in the hall behind her, she spun on her heel to face him, her resentment palpable even though he couldn’t make out her expression. She didn’t want him here, didn’t want to be around him, probably wanted nothing to do with him at all. And, boy, if those feelings directed his way weren’t really fucking familiar. Story of his goddamned life. Until the Army, at least.

  Didn’t have that anymore, though, did he?

  “Beckett,” Kat said, her tone part groan and part plea.

  He planted his feet and fought against the ancient gut reaction to flee from where he wasn’t wanted. Because, damn it all to hell, he’d perfected the ability to hear the I don’t fucking want you around message from a mile away. He’d grown up on that shit. But this was Nick Rixey’s sister. And out of respect for the man he’d fought and bled with for many years, he wasn’t leaving Katherine with the impression that he’d violated her trust or her privacy. “Just hear me out, and then I’ll leave you alone. Okay?”

  “What more could you want to say?”

  Part of him wanted to approach her so he could see her expression and look into those brilliant green eyes. But she stayed where she was, so he followed her cue and did the same. “I didn’t say anything. What happened, that was just between me and you. I wouldn’t disrespect you by sharing something so private. And I’m not some eighteen-year-old kid who can’t keep his mouth shut.” He reined in his irritation, because giving voice to it wasn’t going to help a damn thing.

  Kat paced a few steps closer, bringing her beautiful face out of the shadows. “Okay,” she said. “Thank you for that.” She sighed and paced a bit closer yet. Beckett tracked her movement like a lion tracked prey. The closer she came, the more something deep inside him wanted to pounce. For fuck sake. “Look, I’m sorry for taking your head off out there. Sometimes I just need some alone time to get my shit together, and that’s hard as hell to get around here.”

  The sentiment sounded so much like something he might say that Beckett actually chuckled. “Damn if that isn’t true.”

  Kat gave a little laugh, too.

  And the sound of it reached inside him and . . . unsettled him. He liked it, that was for sure. He liked giving her a reason to smile or laugh. It made him feel like . . . like he had some value. Like he wasn’t just a giant pain in the ass. “You never seem like you don’t have your shit together, though.”

  It was true. Kat was tough, feisty, confident, competent. According to Nick, she hadn’t hesitated to grab a weapon and follow the guys up onto the roof to defend against the attack that destroyed part of the building. She hadn’t even needed to be asked. And she’d stepped up immediately to take shifts in the snipers’ roosts. On top of it all, she was a highly educated lawyer willing to put it all on the line to protect her family. He wasn’t sure he’d ever met a woman as badass as Katherine Rixey.

  “Well, I guess that’s good to know. I’m just . . .” She shrugged and ducked her chin.

  “What?”

  She shook her head. “Nothing . . .”

  Beckett wasn’t having that. He needed to know what she’d almost said. Because this was the most real conversation they’d ever had. No snark, no anger, no audience. And after what had happened between them this afternoon, that seemed to matter. So he closed the distance between them and tilted her chin up with his fingers. Her mouth dropped open and her eyes widened at the touch, and damn if those little physical reactions didn’t reverberate through his blood. “What?”

  For a long moment Beckett didn’t think she’d answer, and then the words started pouring out of her. “Have you ever felt . . . just . . . angry? And not known what to do with it? How to direct it? How to get rid of it?” She raked her hand through the top of her hair, causing it to cascade around her shoulders. “I’m freaking pissed that this—all of this—happened to Nick. And all of you. It’s so unfair. And that Jeremy’s in such danger. I mean, Beckett, if you could’ve seen that roof fall out from underneath him—” Her voice went thin and her eyes went bleak. She shook her head and visibly reined in her emotions. “If I hadn’t happened to drop in for a visit on Friday, I wouldn’t have known about any of it. Because Nick would’ve kept me in the dark. I mean, shit, I should almost thank Cole for jump—” She swallowed the words like she’d said more than she wanted, then threw up her hands and spun away, agitation rolling off her.

  Beckett frowned as his instincts jangled. What the hell had she been about to say? And why did her mention of another man’s name feel like such shit? “Who’s Cole?” he asked, watching her closely.

  She just shook her head.

  But, for reasons he couldn’t quite pinpoint, the answer felt important. He crossed to where she’d paced and came up behind her. “Who’s Cole?”

  Waving a hand, she shook her head again. “Just a guy. Doesn’t matter.”

  The more she deflected, the more he was sure it did matter. Beckett replayed her words in his head and tried to make sense of them. I should almost thank Cole for jump— Jump? Jumping to conclusions? What?

  She turned to fac
e him, giving him a smile he didn’t really believe. “See? My shit is so not together.”

  He sensed that she was shuttering up, and it was the last thing he wanted. Because the stuff she was saying . . . it resonated with him. Did he know what it felt like to be angry? Uh, yeah. And then some. It was quite possible that Angry was his middle fucking name. Had been for years. So, yeah, he got it.

  “The anger,” he said, hoping to keep her from clamming up. “I get it. The key is not to let it get the best of you, but use it. Let it build a fire inside of you. You’ll need it to get through this clusterfuck. To get you through the exhaustion and the stress and the worry. Way more powerful than fear.” Digging into that dark, restless energy inside him was how Beckett had powered through the most intense moments of his SF career. The only good thing his father had ever done for him was prepare him for how to endure and persevere through the worst sorts of hell. And every time Beckett had persevered, had come out the other side unscathed, it felt like a giant fuck you very much to his father.

  She gave him an appraising look. “Is that what you do?”

  Beckett nodded, even though he wasn’t sure he really had it under control. Which meant he could snap, just like his father had—so many times. “Something like that.”

  Rolling her shoulders, she took a deep breath. “Thanks, Beckett. Just venting actually helped a lot.” She gave a small chuckle. “Although I can’t believe I just dumped all that on you. And I am sorry I took it out on you.”

  He’d . . . helped her? An odd feeling bloomed inside his chest. He resisted pressing on his sternum to try to make it go away. “Uh, well. Good. That’s good.”

  “Thank you,” she said. And then she closed the distance between them, threaded her arms around his waist and hugged him, her head settling on his chest.

  Beckett was so stunned that, like the fucking emotional misfit he was, he didn’t immediately react.