Unknown Number – I miss your mouth already. I’m afraid what state I’ll be in by the time you get to Uganda.
He needs to stop.
Me – No! We’re never going to see each other again. Never, anywhere, ever again.
The woman next to me giggles. She actually giggles. But since she’s in love and speaking French, it doesn’t sound quite so girlish and silly. I hate giggling. Still, I really want to know what they’re saying.
Unknown Number – Tell me why you’re going to Uganda.
Me – I told you.
Unknown Number – No. Tell me the real reason you’re going. I have your file but I want to know your secrets.
I sit up in my seat with a jerk and gasp. The lovey-dovey couple stops giggling and murmuring in their romantic language long enough to stare at me.
“Sorry,” I mutter in my flat American-Ohioan-Buckeye-boring non-accent English.
The man smirks before turning his attention back to the love of his life.
Me – How did you get a file on me? And how do you get a file on anyone, for that matter?
My heart starts to pitter-patter faster than it should for a healthy, at-rest twenty-seven-year-old. What does he know?
Me – And what’s in my file, dammit?
Unknown Number – Really? Like you don’t know that Grady can find out anything about anyone at any time.
I stare, frowning at the small screen in my hands that are starting to sweat. I knew Grady had some government clearance and contracted for the CIA, but the way Noah is describing it sounds like something much more than I ever thought it was. Or could be.
I answer honestly.
Me – No. I thought my sisters spilled all the goods on me to Grady. They’re a bunch of blabbermouths who can’t keep anything to themselves. Ever.
Unknown Number – I don’t know much about your sisters. I didn’t pull their files. Yet. But maybe I should so I’ll know what I’m dealing with.
I squeeze my eyes shut and take a breath. I never should’ve thought I’d be safer having a one-night stand with someone who worked for my brother. At this point, I’d feel less exposed with a possible ax murderer.
Unknown Number – Tell me, Gracie. Why Uganda?
My flight is announced. Thank you, God. I put my thumbs back to my screen and do my best to be genuine and sincere in my pleas because I need him to back off.
Me – I’ve got to board. Look, all flirting and shit-giving aside, thank you for last night. It was better than good. You gave me a memory that will go into the keeper column—you were that amazing. I need to do this in Uganda and I need to do it alone. I’m begging you, say goodbye and move on, Noah Jarvis. I’ll never forget you but I need you to forget me.
I don’t wait for an answer. I toss my phone into my backpack, find my wrinkled boarding pass, and get in line. At this point, all I can do is hope Noah doesn’t come find me in Africa, because from what he said, it’s not a matter of if he can, but rather if he wants to. I’m also adding Grady to my shit-list if he’s been doing disturbing things like pulling my file all this time. And who in the hell is compiling all these files to begin with?
It takes forever to board—the plane is huge and there seems to be a herd of us heading to Belgium. When I find my seat, I’m in the middle—which is fine. I’m short, I can deal—and thank goodness the French-speaking lovers are nowhere in sight. I’m not sure I can stand looking at them and wondering what they’re whispering for the next seven hours straight. I need some sleep.
When I pull my phone out one last time to flip it to airplane mode, I’m not surprised to see one more message.
Unknown Number – Tell me why Uganda and I’ll consider not stalking you all the way through Europe and Africa. Give me one more piece of you, Gracie.
I pause before sending one last message, giving him the simple truth without the story behind it.
Me – I need to prove to myself I can be fearless and I’m going to do that in Uganda. I shut my eyes, pointed to a map, and that’s where it stuck. I’m going to love on children for two whole weeks because no one needs love more than them. The unwanted, the abandoned, and the orphaned. They’re going to give me a memory and I have a feeling it’s going to be epic. And unlike what I’ve asked you to do, I hope they never forget me.
There. That’s it.
I switch my phone to airplane mode before he has a chance to hassle me more. I’d change my number but he found this one—I’m sure he’d find a new one, too. He said he has a job to do. He’ll get busy and forget all about me.
Leaning back in my seat, sandwiched between a man who reeks of middle management and a young woman who barely looks old enough to vote, I close my eyes. In seven hours, I’m going to step foot in Europe, and then, Africa. I don’t need to be worrying about running into Noah Jarvis.
* * *
Seven hours later
Unknown Number – Oh, Lover. You’re shit at trying to make people forget about you.
Well, dammit.
* * *
Jarvis
“I don’t have time, Mom. I’m on a trip.”
I nod to the pilot as I swing my backpack over my shoulder and grab my bag. I pulled all the strings I could to find a pilot ready and with the flight hours available to get me to Brussels. I got here before Gracie. After I pulled her itinerary and found out she’d be here a whole day and night before she leaves for Africa, I knew I had to make it happen.
What she said, about having to prove to herself she’s fearless and her talk about the unwanted children? Hell, that alone would’ve been enough to pique anyone’s interest, but that coupled with her background is too much. I’ve never been so pleased with myself for making a rash decision. And that’s saying something because my life is made up of nothing but impulsive choices. I go by my gut and it’s never fucked me over yet. It’s the shit in my life that I’ve twisted and chewed on that ended up fucking me in the end.
“Noah, please. Just one visit. I haven’t seen you in months. Surely you can take two days off.”
I take the clipboard the pilot hands me and sign the papers. Taking the phone away from my ear, I say to him, “Thanks. I’ll call the booking agent. This is an open-ended trip.”
I duck to step off the plane and turn my attention back to Evelyn Jarvis, who I’m going to have to break down and see sooner than later. Maybe I’ll take her to California for a long weekend again. She loves wine country. I haven’t seen my father in almost three years—it’s been that long since I’ve been back to Annapolis. It might only be a short trip from Crew’s compound to the house I grew up in, but I still have no desire to go back.
“I should have some downtime late next month. I’ll book the B&B you loved in Sonoma.”
She sighs and I hear it in that one breath. Years of disappointment building on one another, teetering on the edge like a bad game of Jenga that just won’t end. “I just … hoped that this year would be different. You love our Fourth of July celebration. You haven’t seen our friends in years and everyone asks about you. They miss you.”
What she really means is everyone’s nosy and wonders where the hell I’ve disappeared to.
“It would be lovely if you could make it,” she keeps her guilt trip going strong. “I miss you. And your father would love to catch up and learn about your new job that keeps you so busy.”
My ass. My father doesn’t give a shit about what I do now, not that I’d tell him anyway. I’d have to spill the bullshit I’ve created as my cover and listen to how disappointed he is in me and how a career in the damn Navy would have served me better. Going to the Naval Academy was one of those decisions I fucking pained over for two years. In the end, I allowed my father to strong-arm me when I was young and signed the papers to follow in his footsteps even though his path has always made me want to throw up and then punch him in the face.
My mother, on the other hand, just wants the family she always pretended we were.
I don’t comm
ent about my father because he doesn’t deserve my brain space. The less I have to bullshit about what I do for people who knew me before, the better. “I’ll get with you after I book the trip. You know how it is, I’m going to be out of pocket where I can’t talk for a while but will reach out as soon as I can.”
“Noah, please—”
“Gotta go.”
Another sigh and this one is resigned. “I love you. Be careful. And call me—please.”
“Always. Talk soon.” And I hang up.
Making my way across the small airstrip to the shack of an office, I swing the door open and see an old man sitting at the desk. Speaking in French, I request a cab. I’ll get a car at the airport after I find her.
Then, I’ll have another twenty-four hours to learn what I can about Grace Abbigail Cain.
Chapter 6
Independence and Freedom
Brussels, Belgium
Gracie
I’ve decided to ignore Noah Jarvis and write him off as yet another one-night stand gone wrong.
The moment I discovered he was involved with Crew—I should have stopped myself. He might’ve been a safe choice, but I should have known he would be a complicated one, too. I didn’t choose well and that’s on me. I’ll block him if I have to. He’ll lose interest eventually. This is one situation where I can’t ask my big brother for help. It doesn’t matter how badly I need Noah to quit pestering me, I don’t want my brother to go apeshit on the man I chose to entertain me for one night. It’s not Noah’s fault.
I message Grady to let him know I’ve made it to my first destination, even though I’m still wearing his high-tech jewelry. Being the stalker he is, I’m sure he already knows I’m here.
When I step off the plane and onto European soil for the first time ever, my insides flutter. Excitement and nerves dance deep in my stomach as I take a breath of fresh air and stretch my tight muscles after the long flight.
I’m not used to independence and freedom. I wouldn’t recognize them if they hit me in the face with stars and stripes. Between my sisters and Grady, they’ve never given me the opportunity to break out on my own. We lost our mom when we were little … and then there was my father. I have him to thank for pretty much everything wrong in my life. He’s the reason my three sisters are overprotective. He’s the reason Grady left us on his eighteenth birthday to join the Army. And he’s the reason I have to force myself to step out of the damn prison in my head.
I understand these things. Intellectually, I get it. It’s been drilled into me during years of extensive therapy, which should make this easier.
That’s why this trip has been a long time coming. I knew I needed something more than just my job, my small apartment, and my cat. Sure, I’ve made some friends through work and did my best to break free of my hovering siblings while in college. I had one relationship that was more serious than it ever should have been. When it got to the point I had to have a conversation I wasn’t ready for, I tapped out.
The best part of my life is being a nurse. I get to fix people for a living. Not only do they need it but they couldn’t be happier about it. They accept my help with a smile and most of the time a thank you, not looking at me like my family does—with love shadowed in pity that I’ve come to despise.
That’s why strangers are my favorite people. Outsiders, I can deal with. I’m counting on it being even better in Uganda. Some speak English but not everyone. I’m sure it will bring my love for strangers to the next level.
I’m the result of a monster who lost all control and the siblings who hover over me. The mix of those two combined have created the person I’ve become that no one knows how to deal with, when really, they just need to leave me be because I’ve accepted my reality and I’m good with me the way I am.
I follow the masses to baggage claim, and once I find my suitcase, I move out into the sunshine and decide my first order of business is caffeine and chocolate. The effects of my sleepless night and long day of travel are starting to wear on me. They aren’t expecting me until tomorrow night in Uganda. I have today to explore and I’m not wasting it on a nap. I have the rest of my life to sleep.
I raise my hand to hail a cab and rely on the hope I can find someone who speaks a bit of English since I’m the stupid American who’s decided to travel the world without bothering to take the time to learn how to communicate.
Three cars zip past before I get the attention of one. I bend to talk to the driver through the window. “English?”
He smiles and I’m all of a sudden thankful and jealous of his multilingual skills as he speaks my language in his beautiful French accent. “Where to?”
“I’d like to go to the markets, and then later, maybe the Sonian Forest?”
His smile gets bigger. “Miss, I will take you where you want to go.”
I return his smile and reach for my suitcase when a thick arm appears, causing my stomach to drop. He doesn’t even have the decency to look me in the eye when he bends far enough to speak to the driver in French, rattling off a few sentences while handing him a fistful of Euros.
My friendly, English-speaking driver takes the money but loses his smile when Noah-freaking-Jarvis stands straight and takes my suitcase in one hand and pulls me back from the curb with his other. I gasp when my taxi takes off without me, leaving me with my bad decision that keeps coming back to bite me in the ass.
“Wait,” I call for my driver even though he’s long gone, disappearing into the morning sun. I rip my hand from Noah’s and spin fully to him. “Why did you do that? And what the hell are you doing here?”
He looks down at me for a beat before grabbing my suitcase and giving me his back. Before I know it, he’s walking away from me, pulling my bag behind him.
“Noah! Dammit, where are you going with my bag?”
By the time I’ve caught up with him—my short legs working double-time to keep up with his long ones—he doesn’t slow or even glance down at me when he explains, “You can’t see the Sonian Forest while dragging this ball and chain behind you. I have a rental. We can leave it in the trunk while I show you around.”
I stop in my tracks and watch him forge through travelers, airport employees, and general airport madness that spans the globe because it’s just as busy in Brussels as it is in America. But I refuse to follow him any farther, which might be stupid since he’s got my bag with everything I need for the next two weeks.
He walks ten more feet before stopping when I don’t follow. I actually see the sigh move through his wide shoulders and back, as if he has any reason to be frustrated with me when he’s the one butting into my life-changing journey—the one I need more than anything.
Without taking his hand off the handle of my suitcase, he shrugs his own big duffle up by the shoulder strap and tosses it over his back. Barely raising his voice, I’m surprised I can hear every word from where I stand. “What are you doing, Gracie?”
I let my arms flop to my sides. “What am I doing? Are you for real?”
He glances down at himself before catching my eyes. “As real as your hottest fantasy. You’re welcome.”
“Holy shit,” I mutter before raising my voice. “I told you what I wanted—no, what I needed—which was for this to be done. We had our night and it was great. I even thanked you for the memory. I leave for Uganda tomorrow and I meant it when I said I need to do this by myself. Did my brother tell you where I was?”
Without hesitating, he retraces his steps, leaving a few inches between us. I tip my head and squint to focus on his dark features through the bright sun. “Fuck, no. And since I’m still breathing and standing on my own two legs, my friend doesn’t know I fucked his baby sister. Yet. I’m about as anxious for that news to get out as you are. I told you, I pulled your file.”
My eyes fall shut. “You’re a freak.”
“And I talked to Crew.”
My eyes fly open. “About me?”
He shrugs but doesn’t explain further, and ev
en more, he doesn’t even apologize for it, just like he hasn’t apologized for not leaving me alone as I’ve asked him to do repeatedly. Instead, he says, “Come on. I have a car waiting and you want to see the Forest. I’ll show it to you.”
I roll my eyes.
“You hungry?” he asks. “Cause I’m starving and if we’re going on a hike, I need to eat first.”
I shake my head, not as an answer but in frustration. “Have you been here before?”
“Baby, I feel like I’ve been everywhere.”
My stomach grumbles. “I need coffee. And chocolate. Maybe not in that order because I’ve read about how good the chocolate is here. And I could really use a Coke, but I’ll settle for a gallon of water. I’m parched and starving.”
“Then I’m your man because I can fix all your problems.”
“No, Jarvis. You are my problem but while I’m trying to figure out what to do about you, you can feed me. It’s the least you can do for being so annoying.”
His lips tip on one side and his eyes darken just like they did last night when we spent hours tangled up naked. Or the night before last. Whatever night that was, the days are blending into one.
“See? You want me—you know you do. But I’m gonna say no to your sexcapades for now because I’m hungry.”
I shake my head. “I really suck at one-night stands.”
His eyes smile and I hate that I love it. I hate that I can’t put this man off like I should because Noah Jarvis is the last thing I need in my life. Now and forever.
“Baby, if you really sucked at one-night stands, you think I would’ve raced around the world to be here before you landed so you didn’t go traipsing off into the Sonian Forest by yourself? That place is the shit and should be appreciated with someone by your side.”
“You’ve been there?”
Veils: A Killers Novel, Book 4 Page 6