by Caisey Quinn
Annalise frowned at her. “Wow. For someone intelligent enough to be a federal agent, you sure are kind of clueless.” At Vivien’s wounded expression, she hurried on. “No offense, but Chase wasn’t upset about his shoulder getting mildly injured. Or the nerve damage that ended his military career early. I mean, okay, maybe he was a little thrown off by it, but that was nothing compared to . . .”
“To?” Vivien prompted. Were there other injuries? Had her handler lied to her?
Annalise regarded her like she was brain-dead. “To losing you, Agent Mont—Vivien. Nothing that happened to him has ever affected him as much as losing you did. Not to my knowledge anyway.”
Vivien knew Chase had been through some pretty difficult times and that his childhood had been downright awful. And yet, his best friend’s sister still considered his losing her the worst thing he’d been through? The tears welled in her eyes this time without her permission.
Her voice was barely a whisper when she spoke again. “Was it that bad?”
Part of her had hoped he’d mourn her and move on. Another part, a more catty and selfish part, had hoped he’d pine for her forever.
Annalise side-eyed the guys as if they could hear her from across the room. She nodded. “I won’t tell his secrets because they’re his to tell. But yeah, whatever you’re imagining—it was significantly worse than that.”
Nine
“You should talk to her,” Luke said, nudging him none too gently with his shoulder. “If not for the sake of the case, then for your own peace of mind.”
Chase let his gaze drift casually to where she sat with Aiden’s sister. That was certainly a new development. He hoped Annalise wasn’t blabbing about his nightmares or any other info she might be privy to due to her brother. But he trusted Aiden to keep it in the vault. It wasn’t just guy code where he and Luke were concerned. Between the military service, overseas deployment, and now having each other’s sixes on duty, the three of them were more brothers than friends.
He returned his attention to Luke. “I don’t know the first thing to say to her. I have all these questions in my head but I know they’d come out sounding. . . angry. Accusatory. And she’s not the type to take that sitting down.”
Luke shrugged and took a quick pull from his bottle. “So? Maybe you go at each other, air your grievances. Worst-case scenario she tells you to go to hell and you get no answers. Best-case scenario, you get answers and maybe some hot makeup sex.”
Chase chuffed out a laugh of disbelief. “That’s your expert advice? Spew my every thought all over her and let the chips fall where they may?”
Luke watched the women having their own discussion then turned to observe Chase watching them. “It’s that or explode, man. Which one do you think will do less damage?”
Chase took several deep breaths, sipped his beer slowly, and let his eyes rake over her. Some of her mannerisms were familiar. The way she tucked a strand of wayward hair behind her ear with her right hand. The way she bit her lower lip when contemplating whatever Annalise was saying to her. Her fingers moving mindlessly over the beer bottle before her. She never could sit completely still.
But some things about her were new. Shadows in her eyes that said she’d seen a darkness he might understand because he’d been raised in the dark. There was ink on the inside of her left wrist, but he couldn’t make it out from where he sat. Ink on the girl who once told him she couldn’t ever imagine wanting something permanent on her skin. Clearly she wasn’t that girl anymore. She was a completely different woman. One he wanted to back against a wall and demand answers from her delectable mouth.
Realizing Luke was still expecting an answer, Chase shook his head. “I have no idea. Guess we’ll find out.”
***
Chase waited until she stood to leave. Then he closed his tab, steadied himself from the slight buzz of alcohol and exhaustion, and made his way toward the exit behind her.
“Good luck,” Luke called out behind him.
Chase nodded to where Annalise now sat alone, surrounded by men who were leering in her direction. A look back at Luke, sitting there glaring at all of them, gripping his beer bottle like he might use it for a weapon, told Chase everything he needed to know.
“Good luck to you, too,” he called back before pushing through the crowd.
He inhaled deeply the moment he was free of the bar. The night air was warm and welcoming.
The redhead leaning against the building was not.
Her arms were wrapped around her midsection and she looked well into the throes of the kind of attack he’d only seen her get when she was dealing with her claustrophobia.
“Viv? You okay?”
She turned and gaped at him, seemingly caught off guard at his unexpected appearance. He watched as she struggled to compose herself quickly. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good.”
“Bar get too crowded for you?” He glanced back toward the door. He doubted Sirens had been anywhere near max cap, but he knew she didn’t like to feel crowded.
She shook her head. “No. It wasn’t that. It was just . . .”
He felt his brow crease in confusion. “Something Annalise said? Tell me. I can’t fix it if you don’t tell me.”
She turned her head in the opposite direction. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Come on, now. I know my friends and I know how they can be. It’s no secret that I haven’t handled you coming back from the dead very well. If she said something to upset you, you should just let it go. She’s just trying to have my back, I guess.”
He had to work to continue breathing normally when Vivien turned the full force of her gleaming hazel gaze on him.
“She said that you were broken after I was . . . gone. That you were like a zombie going through the motions and that you were completely numb all throughout leaving the military, getting on with the Nashville PD, and everything in between.”
This time it was Chase who looked away. “Well, forget what she said. You don’t need the guilt trip and it wasn’t her place.”
Vivien stepped close enough that her mouthwatering scent washed over him. “But is it true?”
“She shouldn’t be saying things like that to you either way. You’re here for the case, and that’s where your focus should—”
“Is it true, Chase?” Her hand grazed the side of his face and he caught her wrist with his hand. The streetlights illuminated her ink.
“What is this?” But as soon as the question left his lips, he saw it for what it was.
The astrological symbol for Virgo.
His sign, not that he believed in any of that astrology bull, but it had been a joke between them when they’d first met.
“It’s—”
“I know what it is. I thought you didn’t want anything on your body permanently. Why do you have it?”
“I changed my mind,” Vivien said quietly. “There was one thing, one thing I wanted to hold onto forever but couldn’t. So this was my reminder. My small piece of something I lost.”
“Of me?” Chase’s heart pounded so hard he expected it to launch into his throat any second.
“Of you,” she answered evenly while maintaining eye contact. “You might not believe me, but—”
He pressed his mouth to hers hard and fast. Like a junkie needing a quick fix, jabbing the needle in deep before he could change his mind. It was sweet relief and sick torture all at once.
She tasted like the night they met. The night she’d hustled him out of his table at a bar just off the military base where they were stationed. Just like that night when he’d devoured her in his truck, she was sweet like sugary spearmint gum, savory like the ale that lingered on her lips. A reminder of what he’d lost, what he’d never get back, because of her betrayal. He pressed his full frame against her, backing her against the brick building. If he was going down, he was g
oing down hard. Overdosing on the pain and the pleasure. The moment a moan slipped from her mouth into his, the images of the many times he’d swallowed that same sound while buried deep inside her body assaulted him with malicious force.
He jerked back as if her skin held an electric current.
“Chase—”
“Losing you once was bad enough. I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry.” He closed his eyes so he wouldn’t see the hurt in hers, and shook his head at his own stupid impulsivity. This was not how this was supposed to go, him vomiting up his feelings and losing his mind for the world to see. “Good night, Vivien.”
Before his heart fell out of his mouth along with everything he was thinking and feeling, he left. He walked away brusquely without looking back this time, so that she might know what it felt like to be the one left behind.
Ten
She dreamt of him that night.
Of scorching hot hands on every inch of her body, fiery kisses burning into her soul, moonlit eyes like laser beams trained on her and her alone.
She felt herself melting into him, becoming one with him and being completely okay with it—more than okay.
And then there were actual flames flaring from the sparks between them. A blaze burning so bright she was losing sight of him. She opened her mouth to yell for him, to beg him to wait for the fire to die down so she could reach him again, but he was gone.
All that was left was a pile of ashes. She dropped to her knees, hard, surprised at how acutely she felt the impact, and dug her hands through the mess, trying desperately to piece him back together, to piece their connection back together. But it was useless.
Vivian woke sobbing and disoriented. Tangled in sheets on the hotel floor.
The hell?
“Chase?”
The fog cleared, swirls of smoke evaporating behind her eyes as she came to.
It had been a dream. Well, most of it had. The soul-searing kisses had been very much real. Until he’d walked away.
She disentangled herself from the suffocating sheets and checked the alarm clock. It was nearly five in the morning. Resigned, she showered and got ready for another day of sweeping the locations from the Music City Bomber’s maps, but desire clung to her skin like a film she couldn’t scrub away.
She wanted him, needed him. Needed him to want her badly enough to let go of his anger.
Once she arrived at the central precinct downtown, Vivien made her way to where Chase and his team stood in the corner of the bull pen analyzing the locations alongside the upcoming events list at each one, which Annalise had so helpfully provided.
“Right now our main criteria for evaluating each site is audience size,” Chase commanded the group, the same way he’d commanded his unit when they were in the military together. And just like those days, he avoided her steady gaze now as she watched him intently.
Her eyes struggled to ignore his broad shoulders and his thick forearms. He lifted his hands to rest at the top of his vest and eyed everyone in the group but her. “Each venue has a maximum capacity next to it. Each event has an estimated audience size beside it. What we’re thinking now is that this is to be a series of explosions, each larger than the previous one. So it’s imperative that we are vigilant at each site for each event. Since manpower isn’t large enough to cover everything, we need to come up with a rating system for which locations are priority.”
Vivien angled herself for a better view, stepping between several officers to get a clearer look. After several moments of careful scrutiny, the only pattern she saw was that several artists on the lists were the same. A few she’d heard of and knew the lyrics to a song or two they had on the radio, but most of them she was unfamiliar with.
“Have we made any progress on potential stalkers or overzealous groupies? Crazy exes with histories of mental illness?” Vivien couldn’t help but think something that involved this much planning had to be personal.
“Yeah,” Chase bit out from behind her. “They all have a cracked out groupie or two. Pretty much everyone said they had at least one psycho ex but no one mentioned anything that led to a suspect capable of destruction of this magnitude.”
“You never know what people are capable of,” Vivien responded evenly.
“Isn’t that the truth?” Chase retorted, his words snapping against her skin like the crack of a rubber band.
She wasn’t trying to upset him or get into an argument for the entire department to see. “Just pointing out the obvious. If you could predict events like this, they wouldn’t happen.”
“Well, when we can all read minds, I guess we won’t be necessary anymore. Until then, pick a zone and sweep the locations within it.” He handed her a color-coded map before stalking off to the other groups that made up their team.
Vivien sighed, staring at his retreating figure with a combination of longing, frustration, and exasperation. Every step forward with him resulted in three steps back. Maybe there truly was no fixing what was broken between them. Maybe the damage was done and there was nothing she could do about it. But that felt like a defeatist attitude, and it wasn’t like her to give up.
“Looks like you two have made tons of progress,” Lena remarked.
“Don’t start,” Agent Davis countered. “She’s got him giving her enough shit. We certainly don’t need to add to it.”
Vivien tossed him a grateful smile. At least someone had her back.
Lena leaned over and nudged Vivien softly. “He’s right. Don’t let the man get you down. We’ll get this case wrapped up and get out of hillbilly hell in no time.”
That should’ve made her feel better. But the only thing harder than being subjected to Chase’s anger was the idea of walking away from him.
Vivien forced a wider smile for the group even though her heart wasn’t in it. “I’m good. Davis, we heading out?”
He nodded, his eyes regarding her carefully. “I’m ready if you are.”
Lena headed toward where Annalise Gamble sat at a conference table working on a laptop. Vivien tossed Annalise a small wave before they exited and was glad when the other woman returned the greeting. At least someone here didn’t completely hate her guts.
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Vivien told Agent Davis. “Let’s roll.”
***
“All clear in zone six,” she called over the radio the Nashville PD had loaned her team as they left Bridgestone Arena.
“Want to get some lunch?” Agent Davis asked.
Vivien didn’t have much of an appetite, but she was about to agree when Chase’s urgent voice came over the radio she still held. “We got a 52e in zone five. I repeat, a 52e in zone five.”
“Explosives,” Agent Davis confirmed.
“What’s your twenty, Officer Fisk?” Asked a voice she didn’t recognize.
“The Ryman,” he clarified. “I need a suit brought inside.”
The Ryman was a former church that had been converted to a live performance venue located in downtown Nashville. Vertigo hit Vivien hard but there was no time to center herself. She practically ran to the car with Davis on her heels. Chase had the smallest team. Him and a female officer named Becca Chan that Vivien had been introduced to previously. No one to watch his six in case the bomber was close by. Because instead of adding Vivien and Agent Davis to his team, Chase had stubbornly told them he didn’t need their help.
Like hell.
She used her GPS and drove through the downtown streets like a woman possessed, nearly taking out a handful of pedestrians and squealing her tires into the street parking space in front of the building.
“I’ll get the suit and some gear from the SUV if someone hasn’t already,” Agent Davis told her.
Vivien nodded before continuing her mad dash inside. Her pounding heart propelled her past the doors, down the aisle like a psychotic bride to where Chase
and Officer Chan stood surrounding a pew they’d placed lights beneath.
The group’s energy was charged with tension as if everyone was holding his or her breath. She could see the worry etched in the lines of each team member’s face, but she did her best to remain calm. This was what she was trained for. This was why she was here.
Vivien crouched down to see for herself. A black battery pack and an off-brand cell phone being used as a timer were duct-taped to the bottom. The timer read seven twenty-three. So they technically had seven hours, provided nothing remote detonated. But if the bomber was watching, the time could be arbitrary.
It could be a trap to blow up the officers who’d raided his stash.
She stood in the center of Ryman Auditorium. It really was beautiful. Currently it was empty and felt like a sacred space. And now someone had desecrated that sanctuary.
“The suit is on its way. Are you going to try to remove it yourself or do you want me to retrieve the bot?”
Chase frowned. “I got it. I don’t think it’s on a remote.”
Vivien blanched. She wanted to scream, but since they had an audience, she made a concentrated effort to keep her voice down. “You don’t think it is? And if you’re wrong?”
Chase shrugged. “The building has been evacuated. Once my team helps me into the suit, they’ll exit as well.”
“Great. So you’ll just blow yourself up then,” she bit out angrily. “Since when do you play fast and loose?”
His eyes met hers and she knew the answer without his words confirming them.
He’d been playing fast and loose for probably around four years.
Since he’d stopped giving a damn.
Since she’d been gone.
The impact of what he’d gone through hit her full force all at once.
“Chase.” She choked down the emotions swirling inside of her. “I’m not leaving. You stay, I stay.”
“The hell you will.” He opened his mouth to argue further but Agent Davis and an officer Vivien didn’t know arrived with the suit before he could. “There’s only one suit.”