She dipped her head, sacrificing her own wants and desires. ”You’re asking too much, Keith.”
“Damn it, Grace.” His voice held a rusty edge. “I’m sorry. What more can I say. I’m so damn sorry.”
Tear drenched her lashes. Her heart ached, twisted and torn between the strange feelings that Keith invoked in her and the loyalty she had for Becca.
She resorted to the blame game to ease the pain. “How do I know you’re not just saying what I want to hear? Why risk me taking the flash drive and handing it off to those bastards before your computer guru friend has a chance to look at it? You’re the only one who cares what’s on it. Fact is, it might make the difference between clearing your name or having it stay tainted forever. How can you risk it?”
“You want to go your own way?” He dug in his pocket, yanking the flash drive out and slapping it into the palm of her hand. “Fine. I don’t need you or your fucking information.” His eyes narrowed, his voice cutting through her like a rusty razor blade. “But you need me, Grace. If things go sour later today, you know I’m the only one who can get Ryker and you out of it alive.”
The drive burned in her palm. She turned away from him, her stomach twisting into knots with the knowledge that she deserved everything he said to her. After all, she was the one who’d goaded him into being cruel.
Keith watched Grace flee to the outside deck. A part of him wanted to grab her and make her believe in him. The other part of him, the part that won out, urged him to let her cool off before trying again.
Although why he’d want to when she’d deliberately kept her true identity from him was pure insanity on his part. Her reasons for keeping the truth from him may have been valid, but her lies by omission twisted his heart, nonetheless.
His admiration of her made him strive to be a better man. Just like all those years ago out on the track, just being with her made him want to do something that mattered.
He strode to the bed and snatched up the pillow, digging his fingers into its softness. God, it smelled like Grace. He lifted it to his nose, a shaft of longing spearing through him. He still wanted her, despite the fact that she couldn’t let go of their sordid past.
No, he didn’t. What kind of an idiot would set himself up for that kind of misery? He yanked the pillow from his nose and tossed it back on the bed.
That he’d had to drag the truth about her identity out of her after all they’d been through set his stomach to roiling, yet it was the fact that she found him lacking and undeserving of her loyalty—after everything they’d shared—that all but destroyed him.
He clenched his jaw. Destroyed him? He snorted. What a crock of crap. He didn’t give a rat’s ass.
Damn it, yes, he did. He cared. It didn’t matter whether she was Grace Stevens, passionate mother, or Graceless Cooper, the awkward, gangly girl who’d one night made him wish for more out of his life than meaningless parties and an unlimited supply of alcohol.
He wanted to be her hero.
Chapter Twelve
“How the hell are you?” Cameron Scott’s sideways grin greeted Keith when he opened the door the next morning.
Tall with dark hair, gunmetal gray eyes that had gotten him lucky on many occasions, a quick smile, and wearing an ugly ass orange and red flowered print shirt, Cam looked by all accounts to be a laid-back, no cares kind of guy.
But Keith knew what few others did—the smiles and jokes masked a steely determination mixed with a heavy dose of bitterness for the way fate had screwed with Cam’s life.
“As well as expected, given that my career’s in the toilet.” Keith answered and stepped aside, allowing Cam through the door. He clapped his hand to his friend’s shoulder. “You?”
Cam limped into the room, his frayed jeans hiding the massive scarring of his left knee, and grimaced. “King, you know better than to ask that question.”
Ah, yeah, he did. Because Cam’s answer was always the same: like a fucking peach.
“I got here as soon as I could.” Cam set his leather case on the small table.
“Yeah, thanks.”
“Apparently the government didn’t want to let me borrow one of their billion dollar helos.” Cam shrugged, a sardonic smile twisting his lips. “Go figure.”
That was Cam. Sarcasm and jokes. Loyal too. He’d saved Keith’s butt numerous times during recon missions.
Cam’s eyes surveyed the room’s worn fixtures, the heavy seventies style drapes and the puke-central mustard shag carpet. He tsked. “Should’ve gone AAA, man.” His gaze lit on the single set of rumpled sheets. He wiggled his brows at Keith. “What have we here? You obviously left some details out when you debriefed me.”
Keith resisted the urge to snort. “Not what it looks like.”
He turned his back on the bed and folded his arms across his chest, refusing to be reminded of the way he and Grace could’ve woken up this morning. Instead, neither of them had slept. At dawn, they’d resorted to tiptoeing around each other.
“Would you like to use the bathroom first?”
“No, you go ahead.”
“Are you sure?”
“Please.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
Screw it. That’s what he’d wanted to say. To hell with it, Grace. He’d take her anger over her politeness any day. He liked her fire. Liked it too damn much.
“What you need is some melatonin,” Cam said with a nod of his head.
He frowned. “What—?”
Cam touched under his eyes. “Racoon eyes, buddy. Not good for your—” The bathroom door opened and Grace stepped into the room, stopping short when she noticed Cam. “Um...” He threw a glance between Keith and Grace. “Uh...sex appeal.” One finger scratched absently at the side of his head. “But Melatonin. Guaranteed to make you sleep like a baby.”
“Cam,” Keith said. “What the hell are you doing?”
Cam shrugged. “Been taking some holistic classes.” He sucked in a breath and patted his stomach. “Cleanse the body, de-stress and all that crap.”
“What for?”
“What the fuck else have I got to do?” Cam’s eyes shot to Grace. “Um. Pardon my French. You must be Grace.” He tossed her a wave. “Cameron Scott. Cam. I’m just going to...” He yanked the chair out from under the table and sat, his fingers straying to his left knee.
“Still giving you trouble, huh?”
Keith expected Cam to deny it and sure enough, Cam shook his head, his fingers still massaging the damaged tissue.
“You’re the one with the trouble buddy.” He turned to the case on the table and unzipped it. “It’s amazing what people will spout off to you when they think you don’t give a damn.”
“Yeah? What’re they saying?” Keith shoved his hands deep into his pockets and clenched his fists.
“About you?” Cam asked. “You’re off your rocker, rigged the explosives to blow during the training exercise so you could steal those missile components to sell to the country’s enemies.” Cam flashed a grin. “The King,” he added, using Keith’s nickname within the team, “has gone rogue.”
“Missile components? What components?” Grace took the words right out of his mouth.
She no longer hovered by the bathroom. Her scent drifted to him from her perch at the end of the bed. God, he didn’t think he’d ever smell the scent of vanilla again without thinking of her.
She looked at him, her green eyes apprehensive, not about their discussion, but about him. Don’t be wary of me, Grace. His throat tightened, but before he could say a word, Cam interjected.
“The ones scheduled to be disbursed to those secret weapons testing facilities that no one’s supposed to know about, yet strangely enough, everyone does.”
Keith brought himself around, putting his back to Grace. “You can’t be serious. They actually think I had something to do with that. How did I manage such a stunt? Did I have an out of body experience when I was knocked on my ass, uncon
scious, during the explosion? Or better yet, I’m telekinetic and moved them with my mind.”
Cam unpacked his laptop and pressed the power button. The screen blinked to life. “I’ve asked around about the op you and The Bard were working on.”
“Oh, yeah?” Keith tightened his jaw. What lies had Cam heard?
Cam stared at his screen, a muscle bunching in his cheek. “Look, I know I was no longer part of the team when Stevens recruited you for the investigation, but you and I discussed it. Everyone knows this was an inside job.”
“Yeah, well, I didn’t think they’d start pointing fingers at me. I didn’t...” Keith squeezed the bridge of his nose, pressure building in his chest. The Army was the one place he’d always belonged. The one place he clicked. To lose the respect of the men who were as close to family as he’d known... “We put ourselves out there for each other. They should know I would never do something like this.”
“Not everyone is against you in this. Duck, PigPen, Chaz...they’ve supported you from the beginning. They want you back, man. And so does the rest of the team. In fact, they’re leading the MPs a merry chase right now in your honor. I think you called Chaz and told him you were headed to Utah. Didn’t you?”
The constriction in Keith’s chest eased, a tight laugh escaping from his throat. “What’ve we got?”
“Here’s what I do know. The man we’re looking for has his hand in several ventures. The most profitable being smuggling people over the Mexican border, along with drugs. Oh, yeah. A shitload of drugs, all in the name of achieving the American Dream. Have you seen the lengths these illegals go to in order to get across? They’ll strip down the interior of cars, hide under the dashboard, the trunk, between the seats...but first they have to pay the exorbitant fee to one of the coyotes. The runners. From what I’ve gathered, the man we’re looking for is the big daddy of all coyotes. Except he’s not Mexican. He’s one of us, just trying to be all he can be.” Cam snorted. “But here’s the thing. While smuggling illegals and drugs into the U.S. is quite profitable, let’s face it, it gets a little old after the first, oh, million times or so. Enter arms smuggling. Now, that’s a whole new ballgame.”
“Where did you get all this stuff?” Keith asked. He sensed Grace sitting on the bed behind him, probably stiff-backed and frowning. He checked over his shoulder, and sure enough, her body and face were taut. But for once, she wasn’t saying a word.
“I have my sources.” Cam lifted a hand. “Trust me, you don’t want to know.”
“So, money’s the bottom line. But, why set me up, right? Any turtle-head would do,” Keith said, referring to new recruits. “Unless it’s personal.”
“Who’d you piss off?”
“You mean there’s someone he hasn’t pissed off?”
“Thanks, Grace.”
Cam smothered a snicker and tapped a series of keys on his laptop. The thin, sophisticated design was Cam’s development. Keith had no doubt the thing would be a terrorist’s dream, chock full of all sorts of hacker tools. The stories that baby could tell.
“Where’s the drive?” Cam asked.
“Here.” Grace dug it out of her pocket and handed it to Keith. Their fingers touched, sending the now familiar jolt of heat zinging up his arm.
He thrust the drive at Cam. Why couldn’t he control what he felt for her?
His friend raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. Good. Because he didn’t want to discuss this roiling acid eating away at his stomach. Ever.
Cam popped the drive into the USB port on his laptop. “The magic begins.” He waved his hands over the keyboard.
Behind him, Grace sucked in a breath. She was probably less than thrilled with Cam’s constant jokes making light of a grave situation.
He should say something to her. Reassure her that Cam was taking the drive, and Ryker’s life, very seriously. It was just Cam’s way of letting off steam.
He turned, met her eyes—and the words left him. After last night, he didn’t know how to talk to her. His heart ached for their lost closeness.
Cam’s fingers tapped a rapid string on the keyboard. “Someone put a pretty strong encryption code on here, but I’ve seen better.”
He swung around, staring hard at the jumble of letters and numbers on Cam’s screen. “Can you trace it?”
“The encryption?” Cam’s fingers hovered over the keyboard. “Probably. But it would take a while to find the origin. And I don’t think it would help find the bastard.” He went back to typing. “So, what’s the plan for the drop?”
“Five-thirty. Powell Park.” Tension fisted through Keith’s neck. “Go there armed and ready and hope those guys weren’t screwing around about their end of the deal.”
“No.” Grace stood, her hands clenched in front of her. “No guns.”
“What?” The word burst past his lips like the crack of gunfire.
“They could call off the deal as soon as they see you swinging guns in their direction. I’m not taking that chance with Ryker’s life.”
“Huh.” He ground his teeth together. “You really think they’re just going to hand off Ryker? Maybe if you say pretty please? C’mon, Grace, get real.”
“What’s the alternative?” She narrowed her eyes on him. “Everyone gets trigger happy?”
“I’ll take trigger happy over sitting duck any damn day of the week.”
“And then Ryker...” She paused, the muscles in her neck constricted with a swallow. “Dies. We die.”
God, why did she always have to argue with him? Why couldn’t she trust that he had her and Ryker’s best interest at heart? He cared about getting him back. Didn’t she realize that yet?
He ran a hand through his hair and let out a sharp bark of laughter over the pain jabbing at his heart. “Well, I sure didn’t plan on dying for you today, Grace.”
Her head snapped back. Her eyes shot molten emerald lava in his direction. “You’re an asshole.”
A sludge of bile rose in his throat. He hadn’t meant that the way it sounded. He held out a hand. “Grace, I’m—”
“Save it.” She brushed past him, stalking across the room. “Don’t you dare talk...” Her words strangled to a stop.
He stared at the spot between her shoulder blades where her t-shirt went taut. “No guns,” he said, because, yeah, he couldn’t bear the thought of remaining the world’s biggest asshole in Grace’s mind.
She didn’t acknowledge his words. The only sound between them was the tap of Cam’s fingers on his keyboard.
“You two about done with that little freak show and ready to get down to business?” Cam threw into the silence. “You know, stolen missile components, badasses, and saving the day?”
Keith hesitated, but when it became clear that Grace wasn’t about to turn around and join them again, he turned to Cam. He blew out a frustrated breath.
Okay. Missile components. What would somebody want with those? Yeah, they could sell them, but without the proper access codes, without the propulsion system and the guidance chips they weren’t any good. Which is why the army kept the important sensors and pieces in separate locations, to prevent theft and misuse.
So, what good would the components from Bragg do for someone who was in the market for some U.S. Missiles?
Unless...
Oh—
“Shit,” Cam breathed, as if he’d read Keith’s mind. “We hit the motherlode.”
He studied the computer screen over Cam’s shoulder. A jumble of coding moved in front of him. “What is it?”
“Access codes. Lots of ‘em.” Cam tapped a few more keys. “How many armaments and weapons storage facilities do we have here in the states? What about secret research and development facilities? This puppy has codes for...shit...who knows how many of these places. Codes,” he tapped more keys, “blueprints, coordinates.”
Keith swore. “Imagine how many terrorists would pay top dollar for admittance to that kind of technology. Damn it. What kind of idiot would sell the nation�
�s secrets?”
Cam snorted. “A soon to be rich one. You know we can’t let them have this information, right?”
“Whoa...What are you saying?” Grace appeared next to him, her face drained of color.
“The man has to be stopped, Grace.” Keith softened his voice. “He’s messing with national security.”
“Wait,” she whispered, and the dread he heard in her voice socked him in the gut. “We’re still giving them the drive right?”
“Of course we’re giving them the drive.”
His heart twisted at the lie. He’d give them the drive, but not the contents on it. The irony of his lie by omission didn’t escape him. Yeah, he’d been a pious bastard last night when he’d cursed at Grace for not giving him one hundred percent honesty. Now he was going to have to do the same.
For the good of the country, he justified. For the good of her son, she’d justified.
He got it now. But it didn’t matter. She was going to hate him after this. He looked to Cam, who had stopped poring over his laptop and now divided a frown between Keith and Grace.
Cam turned to Keith and pinned him with a stare.
Keith gave a terse nod. Cam knew what he was doing. He’d make a backup copy of the contents and wipe the drive clean. It was the right thing to do. But when he looked at Grace, at the tension in her shoulders and the shadows in her eyes, it didn’t make him feel any better.
He pushed past both Cam and Grace and slipped outside.
He suddenly needed a moment alone.
The sun hung in the sky, like an ominous fireball, shimmering the air in front of Grace and distorting the abandoned park. One of the tattered swings swayed in the warm breeze, the sun glinted off the overturned aluminum slide, and the rotted teeter-totter sported a huge fissure right down the middle.
Her stomach jumbled with anticipation and dread. Keith stood apart from her, his face taut. He jiggled his knee up and down in impatience. Man of action that he was, he had to hate the wait as much as she did.
Her Own Best Enemy (The Remnants, Book 1) Page 15