Explosive Encounter (Task Force 779 Book 2)

by KL Donn

  With a soft hand, the figure brushes the hair away from my face before he cups my cheek. “I’ll try not to, darlin'.” His voice is soft, calm, and steady. It gives me something to hold onto because I need to believe they’re here to rescue me.

  A few moments later, I’m strapped to this person's back, and he tells the other man that we’re ready to go just as another explosion lights the night sky.

  Everything that happens next is so fast, I hardly get to inhale a full breath. One minute we’re running, climbing over a wall and then running again, and the next, my saviors are on their knees, hands in the air, and I’m going back to hell.

  If I’d known we were going to spend the next few days beaten, interrogated, and beaten again, I would have given our captors what they wanted. I still don’t know their names, but I’d give anything to be sure that the men who tried to save me hadn't been hurt for their rescue attempt.

  I’m not worth the trouble.

  Phoenix, Arizona – Present Day

  Everything makes me jumpy these days. I barely sleep, I leave the house only to go to the mailbox and back. I haven’t seen anyone but my mom since the day I was rescued. I’ve refused to.

  I’m not the Everett Gaines I was six months ago.

  I’m the shell of Everett, and she’s nothing but a chickenshit.

  I spent nearly six weeks in a hospital here in Phoenix after I was rescued because I was so psychologically scarred, I could barely speak without screaming.

  On the bad days, I wish I’d been left for dead. On the good days, I wish I remembered his name. The voice of the man who held me through some of the worst moments of my life. I wish I could thank him.

  I don’t remember a lot from my time in Mexico, but the fear is so incredibly real. The pain I still experience lives inside me like a ticking time bomb. The doctors keep telling me that the memories will come back in small bursts, and it’s best I try to just move on.

  Move on…

  That’s laughable.

  I was held captive and tortured for five days. Three of those by myself. Two I spent watching the bravest men I’ve ever known take the violence and laugh in their faces.

  I still don’t know why I was taken. What it could have possibly been for. Then I remember that they knew Van. They spoke of him more than once. I don’t know what my father does precisely. All I know is that he works for the government but not in what capacity.

  As I stare up at the ceiling of my room, listening to the rain pound on the roof, I realize maybe it’s time I learn exactly who Van Gaines is. I never confronted him or my mother about what I discovered that sent me on that ill-fated trip to Mexico, but I know if I want to move forward with my life, I have to find out the reason for my kidnapping and how Van is involved.

  Slipping from bed, I look online for the earliest flights to Washington D.C. and see one in less than two hours. After booking it, I call a cab, pack a small bag, and drop a note on the counter for Mom, so she doesn’t worry, and I leave to find out the truth.

  2

  Foster

  Undisclosed CIA Location

  “You understand why this has to remain confidential?” Van Gaines—the father of the girl we rescued in Mexico—taps his fingers on the desk my team and I are sitting around.

  “Let me get this straight,” Nix says, rubbing a hand along his jaw. “Your daughter, the woman we rescued, is here seeking answers to her kidnapping, and you have no interest in giving them to her?”

  “Even though you’re the reason she was taken?” Ryder glares at him.

  “The reason she was beaten,” Weston points out.

  “Raped,” I growl. I can’t fucking get over that. I didn’t want to leave her when she was in the hospital in Charleston, but Ryder and Codie needed help, and I wasn’t about to let my buddy down.

  By the time the dust had settled, Everett’s mom had come and taken her back to Arizona with the request that we all stay away. For her peace of mind, we had.

  Now, she’s here.

  Desperate for answers I can give her, but I’m not allowed to.

  “You realize we don’t answer to you, right?” Theo points to the man.

  “Yes, I realize that. I was hoping for professional courtesy, though.” Van steeples his hands in front of him as he waits for our answer.

  “Tell us who leaked the info that we were there and why, and I’ll think about keeping my mouth shut,” I tell him. But I won’t, of course. If anyone deserves answers, it’s Everett.

  “That’s classified,” he counters.

  Nix’s bark of laughter is full of derision, not amusement. “You realize we have a higher security clearance level than you.”

  “Then speak to the President.”

  “I will.” Getting to my feet, I’m done with him, finished with this charade of a conversation. Everett is in D.C., and I have every intention of seeing her and hoping to convince her to come back to Charleston with me for a few days.

  I don’t know what it is, but I can’t get her out of my head. I’ve been thinking about her since the moment I saw her photo in debriefing and very little else.

  “Chaos!” Knot’s voice stops me in my tracks. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

  “Wouldn’t dream of it.” I grin at him.

  “Yeah, sure you wouldn’t,” Nix smirks as the rest of our team exits the meeting room silently. “Look, just wait until I have the all-clear from the boss before you say anything.”

  “Who says I'm going to?” I look over at him as we walk.

  “Because I know you better than you know yourself half the time, and I know this girl means something to you.” She shouldn’t, but I’ll be damned if she doesn’t. Since my marriage went sour, I haven’t had much interest in women. This damaged girl comes along, and I can’t get my mind off of her.

  “Sure, fine. I’ll wait. But I’m still picking her up.” Hitting a button on my key fob, my BMW M8 purrs to life as I wave off the guys and speed out of the parking lot. I have one thing on my mind, and there isn’t a thing in the world that’s going to stop me from meeting her.

  I know from constant surveillance that Everett is staying at the St. Regis because it’s in a populated area, and despite the fact that terrifies her, it also eases her mind with so many people around her. I know far more about this woman than is healthy for someone who simply rescued her from a foreign country. It’s borderline obsession.

  I’ve been watching her in one way or another from the second I found out her mother took her from the hospital in Charleston and back home. Letting her go was for the best. She needed to heal, to learn who she is in the aftermath of imprisonment.

  After being married to Tamara for so many years, I shouldn’t be so easily attracted to a woman. I shouldn’t have this burning desire to see her in person, to learn all the little things surveillance can’t tell me. Yet, here I am, valeting my car and entering a hotel far more sophisticated than this Florida man ever wants to become.

  Glancing around the foyer, I notice three quick exits should I need them. A line at the concierge desk, and mingling people waiting in the hotel bar for a table. For mid-day, the place is busier than I anticipated.

  A streak of dirty blonde hair and skittish eyes draws me away from the crowd as I walk into the seating area by the front window where Ev is people watching behind a book. I don’t think she’s even reading the popular romance novel.

  Sitting across from her, her back straightens, and her light green gaze grows more alert as she meets my stare. “Can I help you?” Her soft, husky voice, no longer filled with utter agony, captivates me.

  “Everett…” Her name is barely out of my mouth, and tears are tracking down her cheeks seconds before she jumps into my arms.

  “Thank you,” she murmurs in my ear. Hot puffs of air hit my neck as I wrap my arms around her back and settle her in my lap.

  “Ssshh, girl, I’ve got you, Ev,” repeating the words I whispered for two days before we were rescued. Words that
send her into shock as she cries silently in my arms. “Hey.” I brush the hair back from her face. “What’s this for? You’re safe now.”

  I tilt her chin up so I can meet her stare and wait until she catches her breath before she speaks. “I don’t”—hiccup— “I don’t remember a lot”—hiccup— “but your voice has stayed with me. You’ve been the calm in every storm, and I don’t even know your name.” The words are so rushed, I smile at her.

  “Foster. Foster Halsey.” My thumb brushes along her jaw as her face slowly transforms from overwhelmed to grateful.

  “Foster,” she whispers my name, and I’ll be damned if I don’t want to hear it a hell of a lot more.

  Fuck.

  This wasn’t supposed to be about my attraction to her. She’s too vulnerable to even know what she wants right now, especially from a man like me. And I’m not even certain what it is that I want from her.

  “Why are you here, Foster?” The way she says my name is like she can’t get enough of it.

  “I had a meeting. I knew you were in town, and I wanted to check up on you, see how you are.” My platonic answer obviously isn’t what she wanted to hear as she frowns.

  “How did you know I was here?”

  When Everett pulls away, intending to get up and move back to her seat, I hold her a little tighter. I don’t want her going anywhere until I’m ready.

  “I’ve been watching you.” My words are blunt, but I refuse to be part of the lies that are already being fed to her.

  She blinks rapidly before her mouth opens and closes in shock. “Watching me?”

  “Yes. I had to know you were safe. To see with my own eyes that even if I wasn’t there to protect you that you were no longer vulnerable.”

  Her blush is sweet and oddly compelling.

  “I was. I am. I moved back in with my mom. I couldn’t be alone…” She looks away as though it’s something to be ashamed of.

  “Let me take you to dinner.”

  “Dinner?” she repeats, thrown by my change in topic. “It’s not even lunch.”

  “So, I’ll take you to lunch, and then we’ll go for dinner later.” What the hell are you doing, Foster? Christ, that inner voice is either going to get me out of or into a shit-ton of trouble.

  “Okay.” Her easy agreeance has me grinning ear to ear like I’ve just won the damn lottery.

  “You need to put anything in your room?” Helping her stand, I don’t let go of her hand while she reaches over to grab her book and a bag on the floor beside her chair.

  With a pointed look at our clasped fingers, a soft smile appears on her face, and her eyes warm, and she blushes as she scoops up her things.

  “Just need to put this in my room.” She holds the items up, and I grab the bag from her to carry. The way she continuously blushes and tucks her hair behind her ear as we walk towards the elevator makes me want to stay huddled in her room for the foreseeable future and just hold her.

  I’m in over my head.

  Everett

  Foster Halsey.

  Of all the times I dreamed of saying his name, that was not one I expected, but it’s entirely fitting. He’s encouraging without stifling my fragile independence. He isn’t treating me like I’m about to break, and I need that more than anything else.

  The elevator ride to my fifth-floor room is quiet, and I’m lulled into the safest place I’ve been in months as Foster caresses the top of my hand with his thumb. The door chimes and opens, but I have no interest in moving. I want this moment to continue forever.

  Letting go of my hand, Foster places his palm at the small of my back to guide me forward, and there’s a sense of loss from the innocent touch. But now, there’s an urgent pulsing in my veins to feel the strength of his hand as his fingers flicker under the hem of my top.

  “What room?” he leans down to mutter in my ear, and I feel his hot breath on my neck.

  “521,” I breathe out, pulling the card from my pocket. He takes it, and somehow, we’re down the hall, and he’s swiping the card, the door’s opening, and we’re entering my room in the span of a second. I don’t know what it is about Foster, but I’m mindless with him around. I can let everything go and know that I’ll be okay. I’ll be safe. There is no danger while he’s by my side.

  “Do you need to change or anything? I admit I intend to keep you all to myself for as long as I can.” His boyish grin is charming, and I can’t help but match it.

  Staring down at my cream-colored top that reaches to my hips, the black leggings with light pink pansies on them, and little suede black booties with buckles, I think I’m dressed appropriately enough for anywhere we go.

  “No. I think I’m good.” He mutters something under his breath I don’t quite catch, but I let it go when I see the intensity in his stare as his dark blue eyes roam my body. “Where, umm, where did you plan on having lunch?” I ask as I put my book back in my suitcase and search for my small purse.

  When he doesn’t answer, I turn my head to spy him looking into the bathroom. It takes a second for me to remember that I had hung up my blush pink silk nightgown in there, and he’s spotted it. I can feel the heat climbing my cheeks, and I’m sure they’re a darker pink than the gown now.

  “Uh, National Mall is only a few blocks away. They’ve got some great restaurants there.” He still isn’t looking at me. Completely enraptured by the sight before him, he doesn’t move until I clear my throat. And even then, I’m not sure who’s more shocked by his next words, him or me. “One day, I’ll get to see you in that.”

  I have no idea how to react. Biting my lip, I snatch my purse up and slowly walk towards him.

  “I’d really like to kiss you.” His words are so silent, barely breathed, as he stares at my lips. “So fucking bad.”

  My heart beats wildly inside my chest because I’d really like that, too, but I’m terrified of the feelings it will inspire. Good and bad.

  “Tell me you want that, Evie. Tell me you want to feel my lips on yours, softly, sweetly. I just need to touch you.” He sounds desperate, like if he doesn’t get to kiss me right this second, then he just might die.

  “I do.” My words come out of nowhere. They’re true. I want it, but am I ready?

  Cupping my cheek with one hand, he places the other on my hip and slowly lowers his head. I have plenty of time to pull away, take back my consent, but I don’t want to. I want to experience all that is Foster Halsey and explore why he’s been such a drug to me.

  The instant our lips touch, a fire burns deep in my belly and spreads throughout my veins. My lungs constrict almost painfully as I struggle to take in a breath. He doesn’t delve for a deeper connection, just this very simple, yet sexual, touching of mouths, and I find myself craving more.

  “Sweet as candy,” Foster murmurs against my lips, not pulling back. His hands bring me closer. Feeling his heart pounding against my chest, I close my eyes, clasp onto his arms and savor everything about this moment. The way he breathes slowly. How his hands flex where they’re holding me. The slow slide of his tongue as he licks across my lips, tasting me.

  “Yup, one day, Everett, we’re going to be explosive.” His words are a promise I don’t know how to process right now.

  3

  Everett

  Breathe, Evie. Just breathe. I keep repeating the words to myself in the hopes that I’ll begin to do the one thing humans are programmed to do from birth…breathe on my own. But every time he touches me, gazes down at me, gives me that sexy half-smile, I forget to inhale. My entire body freezes while his attention is solely focused on me. And that’s a lot. Foster captivated me with his quiet presence as we drove to the mall, sat down for lunch, and now, we’re waiting on food I don’t even remember ordering.

  I shouldn’t be so easily compelled to trust him. I should be shying away from his touch and attention. All the books and counselors I’ve met since coming home have said it could take me years to recover from all I've gone through.

  Being in
Foster’s presence for an hour, I feel like a woman and not just a victim. I feel like life will go on.

  I’m becoming reliant.

  Pinching my arm, I drag my mind out of this haze he’s worked over me and think about the reason I’m in D.C. About who I’m here to see, and I wonder…

  Maybe, Foster was here to see him, too.

  “Do you know my father?” I think my blunt question throws him because I see something in his eyes before he masks it.

  “Somewhat.” Foster lifts his water and takes a drink.

  “Is he the reason I was taken?” Van won’t meet with me, and I want to know why.

  He looks away. “I don’t know.”

  “But you suspect.”

  “I can suspect a lot of things, Everett, doesn’t make any of them true.” I don’t like his answer.

  “I was raped, Foster.” My tone is harsh, accusing. Not towards him but Van.

  The ferocity in Foster’s glare sits me back. He’s more than angry, more than filled with rage over what happened to me. He’s murderous. “And I’d kill every fucking one of them if I could for what they did to you.”

  “I want to know why.” My words are clipped as I grip a utensil in my hand, needing something to hold onto.

  “So do I, Evie. So do I.” Before either of us can say another word, our food is brought over, and I can’t say I’m all that hungry anymore.

  “What can you tell me then?”

  “Nothing.” His jaw is rigid with frustration.

  “Then who can?”

  “Van.” With a violence I never would have suspected he possessed, Foster slices through his T-bone steak like he’s in enemy territory.

  I stare at my Cobb salad and wonder if I’ll ever get the answers I seek. If I’ll be stuck in this limbo of looking over my shoulder and wondering why this has forever become my life.