Twisted Secrets

by Amy McKinley

  My frown deepened. It had to have been Charles. He didn’t do well with rejection, and I bet it was his way of retaliating, trying to treat me like an errant child. I pressed the button and turned my cell off. I was done.

  After several deep breaths, I let the stress of the day go. I took a few more sips while the distant roar of the ocean lulled me into a state of peace. I was minutes away from falling asleep and completely okay with that.

  A loud knock at my door sent a jolt of surprise through me, and my hand jerked. Several drops of wine spilled over the edge of my glass, staining my jeans. Dammit.

  A few seconds passed where I considered ignoring whoever was there, but the knocking persisted, getting progressively louder. Leaving my wine outside, as I fully expected to return to my chair, I went to the door and opened it. Charles leaned against the doorframe in the hallway, his dark-blond hair disheveled as if he’d run his hands through it more than once.

  The academic, rumpled vibe he had going was what had drawn me in the first place. And in a way, it still did. I waited, saying nothing, my gaze briefly dropping to his ever-present navy tie.

  I wanted to see how he was going to play it and if he would apologize or continue down the same condescending path he had been on for the past week. That wasn’t the guy I’d fallen for.

  A sad half smile curved his lips. “Can I come in?”

  I shrugged but opened the door wider, barring entrance with my body. Conflicting signals, but it was how I was feeling. “It depends on why you’re here.”

  “To apologize,” Charles murmured.

  In that case, yes. I stepped aside. He shuffled in then meandered over to the kitchen, where the red wine was. He opened a cabinet, took out a glass, then turned to me with the bottle in his hand. “Do you mind?”

  “Help yourself.”

  I waited for him to take his first sip. He swirled the deep-red liquid around the glass, and legs formed on the sides before he lifted it to his lips and drank deeply. Neither of us said a word when he lowered the nearly empty glass to the counter then leaned against it, his shoulders slumping forward. “I’m sorry for pressuring you, Riley. It’s been a stressful week, and I took it out on you. And I’m here to tell you that I’m not giving up on us.”

  That was a start, even if that last part sounded similar to a text message he’d sent earlier. “Thank you.”

  He lifted his head, and hope shone in his eyes. “Then I’m forgiven?”

  I pursed my lips. It was complicated. “Yes, for in your office. But not for the text.” And I didn’t say we would get back together.

  His brows furrowed. “Text?”

  I wanted to roll my eyes at him. “Yeah. The one that said, ‘I won’t let this go.’”

  The blood drained from his face, leaving him pale and chalky looking. “What number did that come from?” he rasped then finished off his glass of wine.

  “Unknown.” Weird. I’d been sure it was from him and still had doubts that it wasn’t. His hand clutched his chest, and the veins on his neck stood out. Oh no—he didn’t look well. “Charles?” I rushed forward as he slumped over. My hands fisted his shirt, helping to hold him up. “What’s wrong?” I couldn’t hide the hysteria as my voice climbed in pitch.

  He gasped, and his knees buckled.

  “Oh God!” I dug my cell from my pocket and powered it back on. “I’m calling 911.”

  “No.” His voice was weak and breathy, and he slid to the floor.

  My eyes welled in confusion as I waited for the emergency operator to pick up.

  “No. You take—”

  “I can’t.” There was no way I could get him down three flights of stairs and into his car. The operator came on the line, and I rattled off my location and his symptoms. An ambulance was on its way. Don’t die on me. I sat beside him and held his hand. His palm was clammy, and mine shook.

  It probably took less than fifteen minutes for the paramedics to arrive and get him situated and off to the hospital. I followed in Charles’s car. But it felt like hours. Our relationship hadn’t been perfect by a long shot, but I cared whether he lived or died. That was all I could manage to think about. The status of our relationship, the fight, took a back seat to the fear for his life. It had to have been a heart attack. Maybe he was telling the truth, and stress and pressure had been getting to him.

  We weren’t getting back together, but I could be more understanding and ease out of what we had together. I had to be.

  The tires screeched as I pulled into a spot in the emergency room parking lot. I jumped out, pressed the key fob, and heard the beep as the car locked. I ran to the entrance, and the automatic doors slid open. As soon as I crossed the threshold and skidded to a stop at the front desk, I blurted out, “Charles Wright was brought here by ambulance. Is he okay? Can I see him?”

  “And who are you in relation to him?”

  I wrung my hands, settling on what would mean I could see him. “I’m his girlfriend.”

  The older woman typed on her keyboard, her gaze scanning the screen. “I’m sorry, dear. As you’re not family, I can’t disclose any information.” She shrugged. “HIPAA laws.”

  My heart thudded against my ribs as she refused to look at me. “Well, is he okay? If he’s awake, I’m sure he’ll tell you to send me in. Can you ask him?” I bounced my leg, my knee knocking at the front wall of her desk.

  She clicked on her keyboard for a few more strokes then sighed, her hands sliding away as her gaze met mine. “His HIPAA forms were recently updated, and I know who he is.”

  She’d already said something like that, but I had trouble focusing. My ears rang, and my leg jerked. “He’s divorced. Maybe he listed me on there?” Something that I couldn’t decipher flashed over her features.

  “I can’t share any medical or personal details from his chart with you. But, honey, a little word of advice from someone who knows something.” Her eyes softened with what looked like pity. “He’s married and not worth your time.”

  Xander

  The night sky was filled with stars, and a cool breeze rolled off the ocean, rocking the hammock in a gentle swaying motion. It was peaceful, and I didn’t want to go inside and find my bed. The waves broke against the shoreline, rhythmic and lulling, and I drifted off to sleep with Riley in the forefront in my mind. But my subconscious had other ideas the deeper I sank into sleep.

  My body tensed, and the hammock shifted as sleep transported me from the peaceful beach house and dreams of Riley’s soft lips to the sweltering jungle in Colombia, where our last mission had taken place. The air was thick with humidity and mosquitos, but the lack of nocturnal noise piqued my awareness. It was the first sign that all wasn’t right, but it was too late in coming.

  Daryl had made Kyle take point. I’d thought it was unusual, as it wasn’t what we’d rehearsed. Ten more steps, and I would have been at the front door of the building. Kyle had breached the entrance with Daryl on his heels. Something was wrong. Daryl burst from the door. But Kyle wasn’t out. Daryl turned with a grimace as he glanced over his shoulder. What spooked him?

  Kyle had tried to get inside the building, which was our goal. Get in, recover the weapons, get out. The weapons were supposed to be inside.

  Then all hell broke loose. The informant was rigged with C-4. We turned to retreat. The explosion rocked the night and threw us to the ground. Kyle staggered past the door with blood pouring from a deep wound on his neck before crumbling to the ground.

  Kyle was down. I was hit in the shoulder. When I got him in a fireman’s carry, gunshots exploded around us. The heat trail of a bullet burned the skin on my neck. Dammit! Daryl continued to cover us. Through night vision goggles, I sensed movement and adjusted my aim. One shot. Target hit.

  From the fire we were taking, they must not have wanted us to find the weapons.

  “Joe, goddammit, where are you?” We were supposed to be radio silent, but the ambush changed things.

  “On your six,” Joe sounded in m
y ear.

  Joe was on high ground. We’d found a good spot for coverage in the dense jungle, and he’d set up to pick off targets. We hadn’t expected so many.

  Joe and Daryl covered us, and targets fell in fast succession around the perimeter of the jungle. They were far enough away from the building but close enough to fire on us even without the proper night vision gear.

  Pain seared my shoulder. My eyes shot open. With my breath sawing in and out, I surveyed my surroundings, intent on taking down an enemy.

  But the lack of jungle, screams, and explosions made reality descend. I was out of the hammock quickly, and sweat rolled down my neck as my gaze jerked around the empty beach.

  It took a few minutes to pull myself out of the nightmare and into reality. I held still, my fists clenched at my sides, needing the weight of the weapons in my hands as my heart slowed, and my breathing grew more regulated. The flashbacks were relentless, and after each one, I had a sense that I’d missed something critical.

  Calmer, I sat on the porch of my cabin rather than the hammock and slipped my cell from my pocket. I opened my contacts list and tapped my thumb on Tyler’s name. It rang several times before Tyler answered and grunted a hello.

  It grounded me. My younger brother could be a real pain. “That’s how you answer the phone?”

  “You okay?” Tyler’s voice sharpened.

  “Fine. Couldn’t sleep.”

  “Is there any reason you needed to wake me to keep your pansy ass company?”

  The tension in my shoulders eased somewhat, and I grinned. Of my two brothers, Ty was the one who could do that. He had a sharp wit and an even quicker instinct when it came to fighting. Having him on my team was both a blessing and a curse. “Yep. Since you don’t need beauty sleep on account of your face being the way it is, I decided you should keep me company.”

  He chuckled. Rustling sounded then the clink of bottles. “How’s your shoulder?”

  I rotated my left arm, easing the soreness that his question had moved to the forefront of my mind. “It’s good. Healing.”

  A chair creaked, and I could picture him tipping it back on two legs with that cocky-as-hell look on his face, the one he wore when he was trying to disguise what he was thinking. For most people, it worked, but not for me or our oldest brother, Jaxon. I narrowed my gaze and scanned the dark horizon, taking in a boat’s blinking lights from shore. Ty had told me he’d gone over the details with Daryl from our last mission, as they were both assigned to our unit through temporary addition orders. “You sense it too?”

  “Yeah.” He let out a deep sigh. “That ambush was a massacre. We didn’t stand a chance, and Daryl isn’t saying shit.”

  “I want to know why.” I had a bad feeling about how things had gone down and the botched recovery—our team had barely escaped. Two of our guys hadn’t been so lucky. “I feel like we’re missing something major. No one’s looking into what went wrong?”

  “No. Daryl was pissed, but nothing’s been done aside from the initial investigation. We’re back to square one with this shit. We may go on another tour in two weeks. Intel’s trickling in.”

  “And that’s supposed to be trusted? The messenger was wired. It was a setup.”

  “The Navy’s calling it unlucky,” Ty said with a growl. “We need to know more. I think—”

  “Do it.” I knew what he was going to say, and there was no sense in saying it over the line. Ty had been in the same grade as Mark, our communications analyst, in high school. We needed new eyes and ears, and with him, we stood a chance. Ty would talk Mark into looking into Daryl’s personal life where he could. If he was guilty of anything, Mark would find a money trail somewhere.

  “Same bloody page, brother.” Ty cleared his throat. “Your contract’s up soon, yeah? Have you signed for another block of time?”

  That was the question—to reenlist or not. “I’m still thinking about it.” I rubbed my hand over my forehead, trying to smooth away the problems. “I’ve got a little time before I decide.”

  We chatted for a few minutes longer about the island. After we hung up, that sixth sense I’d had wouldn’t go away. Ty would talk to Mark and get him to look into Daryl, to dig deeper. If he was on the take, we needed to find out before more lives were lost.

  I set my phone down and headed to the water. The only way I would get any sleep was if I exhausted myself, and swimming a few miles at top speed was a good way to accomplish that. We had a plan that I hoped would yield quick results.

  8

  Riley

  He’s married. The knife sliced through my sandwich with more force than necessary. I was glad to be home for lunch, even if only for a short while. The news I’d received at the hospital, followed by a sleepless night, had made that morning’s classes difficult. It hadn’t mattered that I’d already broken up with him. I felt like such a fool.

  All the times he’d made excuses about why he didn’t want to go out to eat or do anything outside of his office or my apartment suddenly made sense. He didn’t want to be seen with me because he was afraid we’d get caught by his wife.

  I lifted the mangled sandwich and chewed. I tasted nothing. Disgusted, I shoved the plate away. In half an hour, I would leave for work. It was better that way. That was one place where I had no memories of Charles.

  Pounding at my door startled me, and I jumped. My nerves were shot. I had a sinking suspicion of who was there, and resigned to get the confrontation over with, I flipped the lock and opened it wide. Charles stood in the hallway, a frown marring his handsome face.

  “How are you feeling?” I could be cordial.

  “Better. My heart is fine. It was a false alarm.” He punctuated that with a nod. “Why weren’t you there when I was released?”

  I clenched my teeth, vowing not to shout my response or ask what had caused him to collapse. “I didn’t want to run into your wife.”

  “What are you talking about?” Charles’s shoulders tensed, and he took a step inside.

  “I didn’t invite you in.” I held my ground and kept my hand on the open door, blocking him from coming inside. “And you know what I’m talking about. It seems your HIPAA papers were recently updated. The nurse let it slip that you’re still married, as in not divorced. My guess is she knows your wife personally to have shared that little gem.”

  “She doesn’t know anything.” He took another step forward, crowding me.

  I wasn’t having it. My hand went up, palm facing him. “Do not come in. You’re not welcome here.” Disgusted, I shook my head. “It all makes sense now. Never wanting to go anywhere with me. I thought we avoided certain places because of worry over your career and our involvement. My guess is that your wife doesn’t go to the university much.” I narrowed my gaze on him. “Or ever.”

  “You haven’t seen her there for a reason. Why, Riley, do you think that is?”

  Games within games—I wasn’t playing them. “As I said before, we’re done, Charles. I don’t want this anymore.” My hand pushed against his chest, nudging him back a little so that I could shut the door. “Don’t come here again.”

  Fury painted his face red. “You’ll regret this and come crawling back.”

  I slammed the door in his face and slid the lock home. What an asshole. I was livid. That interaction chased away the lingering sadness over breaking up. I glanced at the time and saw that I had to get moving so I would make my shift at the Coffee Hut. My hand shook as I tossed the sandwich then put the plate in the dishwasher.

  After a few calming breaths, I checked out the window to ensure his car wasn’t in the parking lot. Only then did I leave, locking up behind me. It was a good thing I had several blocks to walk to work. I needed the time to cool down. As I gained some distance from my apartment, the trembling in my hands subsided, but the deep sadness I’d wrestled with over another severed relationship clung to me.

  Will I ever learn? Or am I destined to have one horrible relationship after another, following in my mo
m and aunt’s footsteps?

  The weather was unusual in Honolulu for that time of day, but the slight chill in the air fit my mood. With the trade winds, we would get half an hour of rain daily, even during the dry season. Puffy clouds vied for space alongside dark, stormy ones. I hoped for a raging storm, one that lasted longer than usual. It would be slow at work, but I didn’t think I could muster a smiling face for customers, anyway. Maybe Jeffrey could put me on bar instead of the register. The less interaction, the better.

  The bells jingled overhead as I entered the Coffee Hut, desperately trying to swap my heavy mood for a lighter one. A familiar blond head turned my way, which was a pleasant surprise. I gave Ava a small wave then stopped at her table. “Why are you here so late in the day?” I worked mornings, most of the time, and that was when she usually came in to write.

  “I’m heading out of town to California in an hour and thought I’d get some last- minute work done on this presentation before I head to the airport. What do you think?” She swung her computer toward me so I could see the screen.

  The title of the seminar was bold across the top of the document, with her picture to the left and several bullet points to the right. I didn’t pay attention to any of that, as I knew that wasn’t what she was asking me.

  “It’s a good picture.” I didn’t want to tell her she looked stiff and unapproachable. As far as portraits went, it was fine, but it could have been better. “Do you want me to take some new ones when you’re back in town?” That would be a good distraction, and I needed several of those.

  Her smile was blinding. “Yes, I would love that.”

  “Okay. That’ll be fun.” I tapped my fingers on her table and inched toward the register. “I need to get working. I’ll chat with you later.”

  Ava’s soft chuckle followed me. She saw through what I wasn’t saying, but that was okay. It was why we were friends. I didn’t need to insult her picture.