by Katie Reus
She frowned. “I already told you he works for my parents. Well, just my dad now.” And that knowledge cut so deep it drew blood. “But he’s my friend. Why?” Cade couldn’t think Nash was involved with anything, could he? The two men had looked at each other as if they’d wanted to rip each other to shreds.
“Were you two ever involved?”
A burst of anger erupted inside her. “Are you kidding me? How is that important?”
He shrugged in what he might have hoped was an apologetic gesture—though probably not—and shot her a hooded look as they pulled up to a stoplight. Yeah, there was nothing apologetic in his eyes. Just a simmering . . . heat. Right below the surface.
Annoyance and awareness battled inside her for dominance. Her annoyance won out. “You don’t get to ask me questions like that. Ever.” At one time he would have been justified but not now. Not when it had nothing to do with the terrorist attack.
Gritting his teeth, he turned back to the road and she forced herself to look away from his profile—and to ignore the strange butterflies in her stomach.
Right now she shouldn’t be able to feel anything other than grief, and it confused her that this man made her experience something more. Just like when she’d been twenty-one and relatively inexperienced. As she once again looked out the window, she could feel sleep closing in on her. Maria tried not to doze, but her body refused to listen.
Even with everything going on and so many scary unknowns, she knew that she was safe with Cade. It was a bone-deep certainty, and right now exhaustion was winning out against the voice in her head ordering her to remain awake. He’d stopped asking her questions, so she decided to close her eyes for a few minutes. At least until they got to her house. She’d worry about her mother’s funeral, terrorists who wanted to kill her, and her memory loss problem later.
• • •
Date: October 7, 2006
To: Cade O’Reilly
From: Maria Cervantes
Subject: Picture
All right, what do you think? I had my mom take this picture of me out on the lanai. When I told her I was sending it to you, she said this better be the only type of picture I send because she’d heard about boards where military guys posted naked pictures sent by exes. Can you believe that? I don’t know if I’m more disturbed that she knows about those boards or that she thinks I’d send naked pictures in the first place.
You should have seen my dad’s face when my mom just blurted that out over dinner. They both told me to tell you hi, BTW. When you and Riel get your next leave, they want you both to come visit. I hope you can.
I can’t wait for Christmas break this year. I feel like I’ve been in college forever even though I’m almost done. I swear the closer I get to graduating, the longer it seems to take. Of course complaining about this to you when you’re in a war zone makes me an asshole. How are things over there? I know you can’t tell me details, but let me know if there’s anything specific you want or need. A bunch of students from one of my business classes are getting packages together for soldiers for the holidays and we can do one for you. I’m already sending you something for Christmas (in addition to the tree), but I figure you won’t say no to more things from home.
xo,
Maria
Chapter 6
Post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD): a condition that may develop after a person is exposed to a traumatic event, serious injury, or the possibility of death; the symptoms vary but include recurring flashbacks, a numbing of memories of the event, and high levels of anxiety; a diagnosis may be given when symptoms continue for more than a month after the event.
Cade had more questions for Maria, but seeing her so peaceful and watching the steady rise and fall of her chest and soft breathing made him show restraint. She’d surprised him by dozing off so quickly, but he knew she needed the sleep. His gut told him she wasn’t involved directly, but she had to know something. Otherwise that terrorist wouldn’t have been in her room.
The NSA and pretty much every three-letter government agency was working on finding the bastards who’d bombed the Westwood mansion. His job was simply to check out this angle. Though there was nothing simple about being in close quarters with Maria Cervantes.
He still couldn’t believe the jackass way he’d asked her if she’d been involved with Nash Larson. It had been unprofessional and not like him. His control was rock solid.
Always.
It was the way he’d learned to deal with life. He’d lost his mom at a young age and been sent to live with her brother and his wife. His aunt and uncle had been religious fanatics, but they’d taken care of him well enough. They hadn’t been abusive, so he’d been fortunate in that regard. Still, they’d been adamant that he should be grateful he had a roof over his head, that he shouldn’t complain about anything. Translation: He shouldn’t expect warmth or love from them. So he’d learned early not to show emotion. Emotion equaled weakness. And any he’d had left when he turned eighteen had been drilled out of him by the time he finished boot camp.
Until he’d met Maria. She’d been twenty-one, so full of life and almost innocent in her view of the world. Home on leave with her brother, Cade had been smitten when they met. But as she was Riel’s sister, there was no way in hell he’d have ever made a move on her.
But one night they’d all gone dancing at a local South Beach club, and Riel had left to hook up with some girl, and Cade had been left alone with Maria. They’d danced all night and when they’d returned to her parents’ place—where he’d been staying with Riel—she’d kissed him. It had taken him so off guard he hadn’t stopped her. Hadn’t wanted to stop it until his sanity won out. She’d been surprised that he’d put the brakes on, but she’d also seemed to think it was a good idea. Probably because of her brother. They’d never talked about it afterward, so he didn’t know for sure.
He’d left the next day with her brother, headed back to base, then the damn desert. But Maria had stayed in touch with him and it had been impossible not to write back. He wasn’t sure when it had happened, but a couple of months after their correspondence started, he’d began to fall for her.
Hard.
Then Riel had been killed in action and everything in his life had gone to shit. The way he’d cut contact with her was fucked up. He knew that. But he hadn’t known how to deal with the fact that he’d gotten her brother killed. She’d been devastated, but she hadn’t known all the details of her brother’s death. To continue their friendship had made him feel like a fraud, a liar. So he’d taken the coward’s way out.
Now he was sitting in the same vehicle as her and feeling so far off his game he didn’t know how to handle it. All because of a sweet woman with big amber eyes who wore her emotions right out in the open. It was disarming and scary. He still had some of the handwritten letters she’d sent him tucked away back at home in Virginia. And he’d printed off most of their e-mail correspondence. Hell, he’d memorized most of the letters, he’d read them so many damn times. He kept them in his safe along with other valuables. He’d never been able to get rid of them.
He rolled his shoulders once as he pulled down her quiet street. He needed to figure out what she knew and then get on with his job. Volunteering to talk to her had been a colossal mistake, because with her it was impossible to keep his emotions in check. As he neared her driveway, he dreaded waking her up.
When she started making frightened moans in her sleep, his protective instincts went into overdrive. He quickly pulled into her driveway and parked. Her head moved to the side so that it was tilted up toward him and her face was scrunched, as if she was concentrating. And she kept making those little sounds that pierced right through him.
He wanted to reach out and wake her up to comfort her, but paused, trying to figure out what the fuck was wrong with him. Before he had to make that decision, her eyes popped open and for one mome
nt he saw stark fear shining in them. It was so visceral, her eyes almost glazed over as if she wasn’t seeing him, but something or someone else.
Then she blinked and looked at him in confusion. Her breathing was erratic as she looked around the front seat, gathering her bearings; then she turned back to him. Those amber eyes were clear again.
“Are you okay?” he asked quietly, unable to stop himself from reaching out and tucking a wayward strand of her dark hair behind her ear. His fingers brushed her soft cheek and for just a moment she leaned into his hand before shaking herself and pulling back. He immediately missed the contact.
“I don’t know. I think I must have been dreaming. I was running from something. Or to something. Then there was . . . absolute hell. Just fire and heat and destruction everywhere.” Her pretty mouth pulled into a thin line as understanding settled into her gaze. “It had to be the explosion, right? I’m remembering what I saw, aren’t I?”
Cade nodded slowly. “It’s possible.” He’d had enough nightmares of his own from previous missions with the NSA and when he’d been in the Corps to know that. Sometimes shit came back that he’d never wanted to see in the first place.
She wrapped her arms around herself and rubbed her hands up and down her upper arms as if she was cold. “I’m sorry I fell asleep.” He started to respond when an insistent buzzing sounded. Either a text or she’d turned her phone to vibrate and someone was calling.
He’d heard it go off a few times but hadn’t wanted to wake her up. Whoever it was, he’d doubted they couldn’t wait the twenty minutes it took to get to her one-and-a-half-story bungalow-style home.
Blinking away her sleep, she shook her head and reached down to the floorboard, where her small bag was. She fished her phone out and started scrolling through messages. He watched as her frown deepened and she kept swiping her thumb and finger across the touch screen.
“What is it?”
“I have half a dozen texts from my aunt and dad. My aunt took over like she always does and scheduled my mom’s funeral for tomorrow. What the hell is she thinking?” she muttered. Maria rubbed a hand over her face, looking exhausted and close to breaking down again.
“Her sister or his?” he asked, remembering what she’d told him about her family through e-mails.
“Hers.” She met his gaze, and the pain he saw in the dark depths sliced through him. “They were close and she probably thought she was doing me a favor. Hell, I know she just wants to help me and my dad out, but . . . she was my mom. And tomorrow is so soon. Too soon.”
Unsure what to say, Cade rubbed the back of his neck out of habit. When he did, Maria tracked the movement of his arm, her gaze growing distracted as she watched the flex of his muscles and tattoos. It was brief, but the spark of awareness from her took him off guard. He doubted she was even aware of it. He cleared his throat, feeling out of his depth with her. “It’s one less thing you have to worry about now.”
“Yeah, I know. And my dad seems relieved.” She sighed and shot off a couple of fast texts, her fingers flying over her screen faster than he’d ever seen anyone do. When she looked back at him, he had to resist again reaching out to comfort her. “It won’t take me long to pack a bag. You don’t have to come inside if—”
He snorted and opened the door. “I go where you go.” Yeah, as if he was leaving her alone. Though he’d scanned the quiet neighborhood as he’d driven up and a team of agents had already canvassed the area not long after the incident at the hospital, he did another visual sweep as he pulled his weapon out. It was after dark and most houses had one or two lights on inside, and the streetlights along the street were bright. Nothing seemed out of place, though he wouldn’t technically know. While he hated drawing his weapon in front of her, he’d rather keep her aware of the danger than worry about scaring her. The more aware she was, the more vigilant she’d be if he wasn’t around.
As she came around the vehicle to stand next to him, her eyes widened when she saw his gun. “What’s wrong?” she whispered.
“Nothing, just being careful. Do you see anything out of place? Any vehicles you don’t recognize?” he asked as he placed his free hand on the small of her back. He kept his body half-positioned in front of her in a defensive stance.
He couldn’t protect her from everything, but his guard was always up. One of the members of the team who’d checked out her neighborhood had radioed him that they were leaving as he was driving Maria back from the center, so he wasn’t worried about a sniper or similar attack, but he believed in being careful.
When he saw the headlights of a vehicle coming down the street, he expertly maneuvered her so they were shielded by his SUV.
“Everything looks normal. It’s hard to believe someone attacked our city so brutally just . . .” Trailing off, she stiffened as the vehicle he’d been watching pulled up next to the curb in front of her house. Cade started to push her down so she was completely protected, but she suddenly relaxed. “I know him,” she said, answering him before he could ask the question.
“Who is he?” Cade still kept his body in front of hers and his grip on his weapon.
“Wayne Gregory. He’s an ICE agent I’ve come in contact with a few times because of some issues a few of my kids at the community center were having. He’s a friend, trust me.” She sidestepped around Cade and started across the lawn as a black man in his late twenties, wearing a blue Polo shirt and khakis stepped out from the four-door sedan.
Cade kept pace with her, still scanning the street for other threats. ICE agents were part of the U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement Agency, which was part of the Department of Homeland Security. but Cade didn’t know this guy. And right now he didn’t trust anyone.
“Maria, I’m so sorry about . . .” The man’s voice trailed off as he rounded the vehicle, his gaze quickly zeroing in on Cade and the weapon he held loosely at his side. The streetlights gave enough light that they were all illuminated clearly.
The man stopped and half turned in a defensive position, as if readying to get his own weapon.
“Cade O’Reilly, NSA. Maria is under our protective custody.” He pulled out his ID and quickly flashed it before tucking it away.
“Wayne Gregory, ICE,” he said cautiously, his gaze switching to Maria, who nodded.
“He’s telling the truth, Wayne.” She’d stopped next to Cade instead of continuing toward the newcomer, which alleviated some of his tension, but not by much.
Cade didn’t like her out in the open. He tucked his weapon away as the other man’s stance loosened and Gregory crossed over the sidewalk and the lawn to stand in front of them. His body language was nonthreatening, but Cade was still on the defensive.
“I’m so sorry about your mom. I saw what happened on the news and finally got hold of Leah. She said I just missed you, but you were heading home, so I thought I’d catch you.” Eyeing Cade cautiously, he stepped forward and pulled Maria into a hug.
To Cade’s annoyance, she returned the man’s embrace tightly. He had no good reason to feel proprietary, but he didn’t like the sight of her in another man’s arms.
“Why are you here? You could have called her.” Cade’s voice was tight as he spoke.
Maria stepped back and they both turned to look at him.
“I couldn’t get you on the phone,” Gregory said to Maria, ignoring Cade completely. “I can only imagine how much you have to deal with now, but I wanted to let you know I’ll help in any way I can. I heard on the news that your mother’s funeral is tomorrow, so—”
“It was on the news?” Maria sounded shocked, but Cade wasn’t.
That kind of information would have been leaked immediately by someone at the funeral home. The news stations were covering this story like rabid animals.
The ICE agent nodded, his expression grim. “Yeah, there are a lot of funerals tomorrow. I know you must be overwhelmed,
but if there’s anything I can do, let me know.”
“I will. Thank you.”
“Listen, I need to get Maria out of here. It’s late and she’s exhausted.” Cade knew he sounded like a blunt asshole, but he didn’t care. He wanted to get Maria out of plain sight.
Maria’s eyebrows rose and she grimaced apologetically to her friend. “Cade is right—we need to leave—but thank you for coming by. I appreciate it. I promise I’ll call you soon.” She gave the man another quick hug before Cade practically pushed her toward her house.
Once they were inside, he ordered her to stay in the foyer while he swept the two-bedroom, two-bath house. It wasn’t overly large, but it was filled with eclectic art and warm furniture reflective of the kind woman he knew she was. Just being under her roof made him miss her more. She’d still been in college and living at home when they first met.
“Your house is clear. Once you pack a bag we’ll go to your father’s house. I’m sorry I had to get rid of your friend like that.” He wasn’t, but he figured he needed to smooth things over in case he’d pissed her off.
“I’m not. I don’t want to see or talk to anyone else right now,” she muttered before stepping into the living room and disappearing up the half-hidden stairs to her room. The master bedroom and bath took up the upstairs half-story part of the house. He could hear her moving around for a few minutes, the soft creaks and groans of an older house settling in, but when everything went suddenly silent, alarm settled into his gut.
Following after her on quiet feet, he paused outside the open door, where dim light streamed out. His weapon was drawn, but he immediately sheathed it in his shoulder holster when he saw her sitting on the edge of her king-sized bed with her back facing him. Other than the bed she had a giant vintage armoire and another large dresser situated to make the room seem as big as possible. The floor-to-ceiling curtains had been pulled back, which probably let in a lot of light during the day. He hadn’t touched them before because he hadn’t wanted to disturb her things, but with her light on and windows open, anyone could see in her room. He didn’t like that.