Atonement

by Winter Austin

  “Why would he do that?” Nic demanded. She gave Cassy a hard stare that made Con want to squirm. Did Nic know something that her sister was trying to hide?

  Con’s gaze flicked to Agent Hunt, noting the man’s thinly veiled look of warning directed at Cassy, who was turning a deep shade of red from all the attention suddenly directed her way. Oh, something was up, and Con’s gut told him Hunt had a hand in it.

  “Because, Nic, some people don’t have a hidden agenda and are sociable.”

  “Is that where you were the other day when you came home with a migraine? Having too much fun with Patrick?”

  “Are you jealous? Think I’m stealing your li’l pal away from you?”

  “Ladies,” Agent Hunt started to say.

  “Up yours, Boyce.” Cassy punctuated her remark by flipping him off.

  Con moved to interject. “Aye, that’s enough. We can’t rule out Patrick just because we think he’s a great guy. He’s been here longer than Jennings, but he’s still new to Eider.”

  “His job does put him in contact with everyone in town,” Nic mentioned. “Name me one person who hasn’t been to the Killdeer Pub.”

  “Is there anyone else? Two of the people on this list don’t count,” Hunt said.

  • • •

  Nic stared at their work, trying to shift through the faces of the people she knew in McIntire County. It was a small county, but there were a lot of people here.

  “What about the other towns in the county?” Cassy asked.

  “I think we can safely say we’re casting our net too wide if we go too far from Eider,” Hunt said.

  Especially if that person was stalking Nic. Whoever came after her had to have been nearby, because they made damn sure there wasn’t a trace of the attack left behind. And that made Nic burn. Cassy had saddled Nic’s gray gelding, Ash, and went out to the place where Nic had been attacked, searching for the missing Sig. Her sister couldn’t find any trace of it or that there had been anyone but Nic out there last night. She couldn’t even find the casing from the single fired shot, nor where the bullet had gone.

  Nic scribbled a cross at the corner of the notepad, cutting deep into the paper. The only thing left was the branch that had bashed into her. Someone had been out there, watching and waiting for an opportunity to get at Nic. And she’d walked right into the net, giving them a chance to mess with her head. She was furious with herself for letting her emotions get the best of her and waylaying her common sense. She never should have gone out there alone.

  “I can’t think of anyone else.” Con capped the marker and tossed it onto the table. “Now, how do we prove it was either Jennings or Patrick?”

  “Or disprove,” Cassy chimed in. “Innocent until proven guilty, remember.”

  “A load of steaming horse poo.” Hunt slapped his portfolio shut. “I need something to eat.” He headed into the kitchen.

  “I think we all need a break.” Con followed him out.

  Cassy, however, fidgeted with the edges of her notepad, staring at the empty place where Hunt had been seated.

  “Whatever he did, was it so bad that he earned your nasty temper?”

  Cassy’s gaze slid to Nic, then back to the vacated seat. “I had my heart trampled over in his quest to get that promotion. Whaddya think, sis?”

  Pushing to her feet, Nic leaned forward to catch her sister’s eye again. “I think Agent Asshole needs a dose of his own medicine.” She winked at Cassy and then left the dining room.

  Both men were rummaging through her kitchen.

  “What do you have to eat in this place?” Con whipped open the side-by-side fridge doors and stared at the contents inside. “Oooh, pancakes.” He pulled the container out and peeled the lid off. “Chocolate pancakes.” His gaze flicked to Nic, and a gleam filled his eyes. She stiffened. If she had to take a guess at what was going through his head, it would be the conversation they joked about that morning. One that involved whipped cream.

  Swallowing hard, Nic grabbed the container out of his hand. “These are mine. Not yours.”

  With a mock salute, he retrieved another container out of the fridge.

  Nic turned to the cabinet where the plates were stored and caught Cassy’s upraised eyebrows. Ignoring her sister, Nic prepped her plate to heat in the microwave. She hadn’t said anything to Cassy about what was going on between her and Con, and right now, she wanted to keep their relationship—if it could be called that—under wraps.

  Con’s musky scent coiled around her and brought to mind the feel of his flesh against hers. She bit her lip and glanced up. He bumped her shoulder and leaned down until his face was inches from hers. Every nerve in her body was fully aware of him, eager for his touch. Her eyelids fluttered as he came closer. Softy, he placed a kiss to her forehead.

  His tender gesture mended a broken piece of her soul and cracked one of the seals she’d put over her heart. In the course of a few days he’d done something she never expected any man to be capable of doing: he showed her it was possible to change her life.

  Reaching up, she caressed his cheek and pressed her forehead to his, then kissed him. Drawing back, she gave him a fleeting smile and then picked up her plate. When she turned to open the microwave door she froze.

  Cassy gaped, her mouth actually hanging open. Agent Hunt shook his head and walked away. Well, so much for keeping it under wraps. Man, her hormones were off the charts.

  “What?” she barked.

  Cassy’s mouth clapped shut, and she crossed her arms. “How long have you been hiding this from everyone?”

  “Oops,” Con whispered behind her.

  Shaking her head, Nic shoved her plate into the microwave and punched the minute button.

  A hard knock on the door stopped Cassy’s next retort. Who would be out there? The sheriff wouldn’t come out here, not now and not with so much media attention on the town after yesterday’s events. Jennings, maybe.

  Nic’s body went cold as she realized what they had posted on the wall in her dining room. If it was Jennings, he couldn’t be allowed back there.

  “Want me to answer it?” Agent Hunt asked.

  “Uh, yeah.” Nic braced for whoever was on the other side of the door.

  The General, minus Emma, marched past Hunt and through her house as if he owned the place.

  Cassy waylaid him before he could get a foot closer to Nic. “Pop, I told you to stay away.”

  He pushed her aside—he did it as if handling porcelain—in his quest to Nic. “Pack your things, Cassandra.”

  She made a confused noise but didn’t follow orders. Instead, she bypassed the island counter and once more intercepted him, blocking him from reaching Nic.

  Seeing her sister defy him and the shock that covered his face gave Nic a sense of satisfaction she hadn’t felt around that bastard in years. It had to sting to see his little princess disobey him. “You are not welcome in my home. Where’s Emma?”

  “At the hotel, safe.”

  “Mom is here?” Cassy’s voice took on a pitch of disbelief. She’d been kept in the dark—oh, how the tables have turned.

  “Cassandra, do as I say.”

  “She doesn’t have to do a damn thing. She’s not one of your marines to be ordered around.”

  The General’s eyes narrowed. “Once, you were.”

  “And I regret that situation with every fiber of my being.”

  “Obviously neither of you are aware of what has been going on out there.” He pointed at the world in general. “Cassandra, pack Nicolette’s things as well. Both of you are coming home, now. The media is starting to dig into your past, and they’ve discovered the inquiries and hearings. They’re too close. If they push hard enough, they’ll break the whole thing wide open, and more than just your job here will be at risk.”

  Cassy looked between them. “Nic, what is he talking about?”

  “Nothing,” Nic said between clenched teeth. “Get the hell out.”

  The self-righteou
s prick stood there at attention, staring at her with those cold, unemotional eyes. Her eyes. She seethed. Damn him for acting like she was still under his command and he could order her around.

  “It’s time you came home, Nicolette. We’ll get this sorted out and stop all this nonsense.”

  Her anger exploded like a truck full of IEDs. “Nonsense! That’s what you think this is? Nonsense?” She dodged Con’s reach and quickly closed in on The General, pulling up short of punching him. “I’m suffering because of your dirty secret.”

  “That’s enough, Marine!” He barked that command in a way any drill sergeant would be proud of.

  Nic slammed her open hand against his chest. He didn’t budge an inch. “This ain’t the marines, Pop. You can stuff the command shit up your ass.”

  “Nic.” The warning in Con’s voice didn’t subdue her—it fueled her.

  She pointed a finger at him. “Stay out of this, Con.” She swung back to The General. “I could have saved some or all of them. I had the perfect position to help them out, and I was told to stand down and keep to my objective.”

  “You are divulging classified information. It’s grounds—”

  “Screw your classified information! You made it that way to cover up your sins.” Wet heat pooled in the corners of her eyes. Damn it, she never cried in front of him. Never. “A squad. A whole damn squad sacrificed like lambs. Slaughtered for one piece of shit.”

  “Who you took out, like you were ordered.”

  “After I watched them all die.” Sniffing, she swiped the moisture from her face with the back of her hand and took a few steps away from him. “You knew Farasat was in that village. You knew he and his men would kill those soldiers, and you shut me down.” She balled her hands into fists. “I could have saved them.”

  “And risked losing the target. That was not your objective, and you damn well know it. Your job as the sniper was to follow the orders to the letter. There was no room for heroics on that mission.”

  “Then what the hell were they doing out there? On the same day Aiden and I were on that mission? Why was that squad sent in there?”

  The General’s face blanched, and he lost some of his stiffness. “No one knows. Army command thinks they were lost and seeking shelter.”

  She had never been told that. Even after she gave them the descriptions and patch IDs for their unit. Now he suddenly had a conscience and was spilling? Had the guilt gotten to him? Or was he just playing her?

  “That’s why there was radio silence for so long. You were scrambling to figure out who they were and decide if they were worth the risk.” Nic’s groan came out more like a half-growl, half-scream. “They had no idea what they walked into, and you let those bastards slaughter them.”

  He said nothing. Only resumed his stiff posture and glared at her.

  This time, when she advanced on her old man, Con grabbed her arm and dragged her back. Nic struggled, but he clamped down harder. Maybe it was for the best he kept her at bay. Right now, she felt like murdering the man who was supposed to be her father.

  “That mission. That squad. Those are the reasons I can’t sleep at night. Why I wake up screaming from the bloody nightmares. I never gave a shit about my kills. They deserved it. But those guys … Now their families will never know the truth, because you bastards in your cozy command posts couldn’t get your heads out of your asses.”

  “I won’t stand here and explain protocol to you. I came here to bring you home and get you the help you need.”

  Her body shook from the rage and her grief. She let the tears flow unchecked. “I don’t need or want your kind of help. I tried that already, remember? What did you say? Remember? What did you tell me?”

  The General’s eyes turned to flint. “Semper fi ... ”

  “Marines don’t suffer,” she finished for him. “That’s why Aiden took his life. He couldn’t handle it anymore. No one was there for him, either, so he decided death was easier than living with it. And I was the one who had to find him.” Her knees were weakening.

  Nic felt Con’s arm slip around the front side of her waist. The General noticed the movement, too, his gaze darting down then up. The disgust in his eyes lit the fuse.

  “I thought I raised you better than this. Get your shit together, Nicolette.”

  Enraged, she screamed and charged. Con moved faster, grabbing her around the waist and hauling her off her feet. Her screams melded with her sobs. She struggled, begging for him to let her go.

  “I suggest you get the hell out of here, sir,” Con yelled over her tortured wails.

  Through the blurry haze, she saw The General hesitate, then about-face, and come face to face with Cassy. Nic choked down a cry and waited as her sister stared at him in horror. The General reached out for her, but she moved away. The man’s shoulders slumped, and then he was gone. Leaving chaos in his rearview mirror.

  Nic’s struggling resumed, forcing Con to drop to the floor on his knees. As the grief over what had happened all those years ago took over, she allowed him to cradle her against him. Slinging her arms around his neck, Nic buried her face in his chest, heaving soul-wrenching sobs.

  For the men who lost their lives for no reason. For Aiden. For Cassy, who now knew the horrible truth about their father. He was a cold-hearted son of a bitch who would sacrifice his own flesh and blood for his own gain.

  But Nic cried hardest for herself, for what she’d done and the things she left undone. Because if she had just disobeyed those orders, a whole squad of men, and Aiden, would still be alive. And she wouldn’t be living in hell.

  Chapter Thirty-two

  When the option became available, Nic freed herself from Con’s hold and climbed to her feet. She waved and pushed him away, then staggered for the front door.

  “Where are you going?” he asked.

  She grabbed the keys to Cassy’s car off the counter. “Anywhere but here.”

  Cassy caught her hand, then gently pried the keys from it. “I’ll drive.”

  “Ladies, this might not be a good time—” Hunt started.

  “Shut the hell up,” Cassy snapped and hooked her arm around Nic’s. “I know where we can go.”

  She let her sister escort her to the car. As Cassy was pulling out of the drive, Nic chanced a look at the house; Con was standing in the doorway. She could see the hurt on his face, but right now she couldn’t feel a damn thing. Everything inside was numb, and she wanted to keep it that way.

  “I hope this place where you’re taking me has alcohol.”

  “Liberal amounts of it.”

  Cassy activated her MP3 player and cranked up the volume as some interesting style of folk/blues came out of the speakers. Nic slumped in the seat and let the music wash over her. Eventually, her eyes drifted shut. Their combined silence spoke volumes.

  Nic didn’t know what was going through her sister’s head, wasn’t sure she wanted to. But if Cassy’s reaction to the truth of The General’s involvement in Nic’s downward spiral was any indication, it definitely included thoughts about making sure the old man never had sex with Emma ever again. Viagra be damned.

  Nic didn’t know how much time had passed or how far Cassy had driven before she felt the car stop and the music died.

  “We’re here.”

  Nic peeled her eyes open and peered out the window at the brightly lit building with a gravel lot filled with dirty trucks and cars. The name of the place triggered a memory—she came out here when she first joined the sheriff’s department. It was a little honky-tonk bar that managed to keep afloat thanks to the farmers and other country folks who preferred something not so pretentious.

  “How’d you find out about this place?”

  “Patrick brought me out here. I liked it.”

  “What the hell did you do with that kid all day?”

  “He’s not a kid, and I got the lay of the land. It’s come in real damn handy, if I do say so myself. Do you think anyone is going to figure out where we are?”


  Shrugging, Nic moved to leave the car. It would be nice not worrying about Con or The General finding them. Because tonight she planned on getting wasted and to hell with the world. The door slammed shut behind her as she traipsed across the lot to the entrance.

  Cassy gripped her arm. “Hold on, Nic. I know you’re reeling and probably ready to drown yourself, but I need to know if you’re packing.”

  She held up her arms and showed Cassy that she was indeed unarmed. “I didn’t bother.”

  “Good,” her sister said and pushed inside.

  Stale cigarette smoke and the rank stench of body odor and mildew blasted Nic as she followed her sister. An ’80s-style jukebox sat next to the bar, spilling out country tunes of the same era. Men were scattered about the room with a few women here and there, all holding longnecks and talking. A few interested looks were thrown Nic and Cassy’s way as they meandered through the maze of tables and chairs to the bar, but for the most part the patrons ignored them. A first for Nic since Dusty Walker’s death, which was odd, considering how many of these people lived in the outlying areas around Eider.

  Each taking a stool next to each other, Nic and Cassy grabbed a handful of peanuts and began shelling them as they waited for the bartender.

  “When did you and Con happen?” Cassy asked after four peanuts.

  “I don’t know. It just did.” Nic tossed a shell at a basket sitting in the middle of the bar. “He’s been working on me for a few years now.”

  “And suddenly you just decide he’s okay enough to sleep with?”

  Nic chomped on her peanuts.

  The bartender joined them, took their orders, and placed the desired liquor before them. Nic sipped her whiskey and savored the burn as it slid its way down her throat. Damn, that tasted good.

  “You know he drinks that, too,” Cassy commented, then took a swig of her beer.

  Nic caught her meaning. It was a crying shame this was the only thing she and The General shared a common love for: whiskey. Too bad. Nic threw back the rest in one gulp and slapped the glass on the bar top. The bartender caught her cue, returned with the bottle, and poured her another round.