Allegiances

by Cynthia Eden

  “This call is over,” she said again, because too much time had passed. She didn’t want to give away her location.

  “If Porter Vance is after you, I didn’t send him! He’s a free agent now. He’s—”

  “Dead,” she said flatly.

  “What?”

  “Goodbye, Ronald.”

  “Celia, wait, you need—”

  She hung up. Right now she had no idea what she needed.

  * * *

  SULLIVAN OPENED THE white envelope Celia had given to him. He took out the papers inside and unfolded them.

  Around him, his family waited. His brothers and the women they loved.

  His sister, Ava, stood a few feet away, with her husband, Mark Montgomery, at her side.

  They’d all been waiting so long to unravel the past.

  And all Sullivan could think about in that moment was Celia. I keep hurting her.

  “Damn, man,” Mac snapped. “Cut the suspense and just tell us. Why did Mom go into the Witness Protection Program? What happened to her?”

  He looked at the pages before him. “It’s her death certificate.” His eyes narrowed. “The woman she’d been before...they said she was dead. There was never going to be any going back for her.” Which was damn odd. Normally, a person in Witness Protection would go back to testify in a trial or—

  “She had to get away,” Ava said. “She was running when she came here.”

  They all knew that already.

  “Then she met Dad.” Grant’s voice was solemn. “She never seemed scared to me. My whole life, Mom just seemed...happy.”

  “She was.” Sullivan would never believe otherwise. He’d seen the love and joy in his mother’s eyes. He moved the death certificate and focused on the next form that Celia had given him.

  A police report. Very old, from the looks of it. Not a copy. Hell, an original? How had she gotten her hands on that? “Mom saw a murder,” he said. No, not a murder, Sullivan realized as he read the paperwork. “An execution. She witnessed a white male in his early twenties walk up and put a gun to the back of her boyfriend’s head. The attacker fired one shot, and her boyfriend fell right there.” He didn’t share the other parts, not right then, but the police reports covered the fact that blood spatter had been all over their mother. That she’d been hysterical at the scene. “According to her statement, the killer said if she talked, he’d come back and shoot her.”

  And she had been shot, years later. Killed in her own home.

  “She talked,” Grant said.

  Obviously. “It says, ‘I won’t be afraid.’” He was thumbing through the small stack of papers now. “That’s in her handwriting. She wrote out her statement and signed it. She wasn’t going to be afraid. She wanted that man brought to justice. A white male with golden eyes. Six foot two. Two hundred pounds.” He read the description, aware that his voice had gone flat. All those details were there, stark but not cold—they couldn’t be cold when they were written in his mother’s hand.

  Mac cleared his throat. “She always told us how important it was to help others.”

  “Especially those who were weaker,” Grant added. “Mom never was the type to stand by and let anyone else suffer.”

  Sullivan’s head lifted. He glanced around the room and saw that silent tears had slid down Ava’s cheeks.

  “There’s more, isn’t there?” Ava asked, catching his gaze. “Tell us everything now, Sullivan. That’s why we’re all here.”

  His gaze swept over them. Grant’s wife, Scarlett, was at his side. Their hands were linked. Sullivan stared at their hands for a moment. Grant and Scarlett hadn’t been through an easy time. It had taken Grant years to win a place at her side again. If Grant had given up, his brother would have been lost. Sullivan knew that with certainty.

  Over the years, Sullivan had carried secrets for Scarlett. He hadn’t told his brother about the baby she’d lost because he hadn’t wanted to hurt Grant. But those secrets—they had hurt. Because Grant had wanted to know everything about Scarlett. He’d wanted to be there for her, through the good and the bad.

  Now they were together.

  And Grant was frowning at him. “Sully? What is it?”

  He shook his head, and his gaze kept sliding over the group. Ava and Mark, Grant and Scarlett, Mac and his pretty Elizabeth. They were all so settled now.

  Even the twins had left their wild times behind. Brodie had his hand wrapped around Jennifer’s shoulder. Ah, Jennifer...now, there was another woman who understood all about secrets. She’d been hiding the truth about herself from Brodie from the moment that they first met. But when danger had closed in on her, she’d turned to Brodie. She’d trusted him fully.

  And Brodie had been willing to walk through hell to keep her safe.

  Even Davis and his new wife, Jamie...they’d had to battle a dark past. Jamie had also been in Witness Protection—it was through her that they’d first learned about their mother. But Davis hadn’t cared at all about Jamie’s past. In fact, he’d been determined to battle the demons that haunted her.

  “Secrets,” Sullivan muttered. “That’s what’s been in my way all along.”

  Grant stepped toward him. “What aren’t you telling us?”

  He looked back down at the papers. “The cops thought they were after a professional hitter. They figured he’d been hired just to kill Mom’s boyfriend. The boyfriend—Henry Jones—was a marine, just back from deployment.”

  And he remembered right then the way his mother had looked when she first saw him in his uniform. Her lips had trembled. She’d hugged him so tightly.

  He had to force his fingers to stay loose around those papers. It took all his strength not to crumple them right then and there. “The marine was gunned right down and Mom was just collateral damage.” The hell she was. “She wasn’t a target, so the gunman let her go. But she went to the authorities. She didn’t let fear stop her.”

  “Did they ever catch the guy?” Jennifer wanted to know. Yes, that would be Jennifer. Wanting to make sure that justice had been served.

  “It doesn’t say that they did.” He’d ask Celia if she knew. “But it does say...the cops suspected this guy was tied to other crimes. Other military personnel who’d been killed.” Executed. “She was sent away because they believed she would be murdered because she’d come forward. They wanted her to be protected at all costs.”

  So she’d left her life behind. Gone to Texas.

  And started a family there.

  A family that hadn’t known about her secrets. But...

  Dad knew.

  He must have known.

  “This doesn’t make sense to me,” Ava said. “Mom was shot first. The men who came after them were trying to make Dad talk, not her. They killed her outright. If those men were here because of her, then what secrets did they think our father knew?” She surged forward. “I remember what he said at the end. Those words have haunted me for years—‘I’ll never tell you. No matter what you do, I’ll never tell you.’” Her voice had gone hoarse with pain. “If the men who killed them were here because of Mom’s past, then why would they be trying to make Dad talk? It doesn’t make sense, it—”

  “He was her handler,” Sullivan said, revealing the very last bit of information that Celia had provided in that envelope.

  Ava stilled. “What?”

  “Mom and Dad didn’t meet by chance. When she entered the Witness Protection Program, he was the one who was protecting her. He was the one who was supposed to give her a new start and then, once she was settled, walk away.”

  “What the hell?” Davis demanded, his expression shocked. “You’re saying Dad was law enforcement? I thought—he was always a rancher.”

  Not always. “I’m not saying it.” He gave the papers to his brother. “It’s what Celia found out.”

  Davis blinked. “Back to her, huh? I thought she was a client.”

  Mac thrust back his shoulders. “A client who helped us. This whole family o
wes her more than we can ever repay.”

  Elizabeth gave a quick nod. “I certainly do. If it weren’t for Celia, I’d still be running from my past.”

  Instead, she had a future. Mac had a future.

  What do I have?

  Papers tied to his bloody past.

  “If this Celia might know more, then she needs to come in here,” Davis said. His gaze held Sullivan’s. “Bring her in with the family.”

  He wanted to do it, more than anything else. But she’d asked to be kept separate. No...she’d asked after he’d admitted that his family didn’t know about her.

  Tell them I’m a client.

  He glanced toward the door. Was she still at the bluff? That was his favorite spot, and his chest felt tight as he imagined her there.

  She had no reason in the world to help him, yet she’d brought him all this information on his family. Why? He had to know.

  He turned for the door.

  “Bring her in,” Davis called again. “Don’t you think it’s past time we all met her?”

  Something about the way Davis said that... Sullivan looked back.

  Grant had moved to Davis’s side. Grant. The eldest brother. The one who’d worked so hard to hold them all together after they buried their parents.

  Grant was staring at him with suspicious eyes. “More secrets, Sully?”

  Dammit... “Yes.”

  “Secrets can destroy you, if you let them,” Grant said.

  He wasn’t in the mood to be destroyed.

  He yanked open the door and marched back outside. His gaze swept the area, and, sure enough, Celia was still near the bluff. Her hair was blowing in the faint breeze. The sun warmed her skin, and as he hurried toward her, she turned to face him.

  He saw the fear flash across her delicate features. She tried to school her expression, but it was too late.

  “What’s wrong?” Sullivan demanded instantly as his muscles hardened. He scanned the area, searching for danger, but no one else was there. Just him.

  Just her.

  Surely she wasn’t afraid of him, was she?

  Her right hand gripped the burner phone she’d purchased.

  “Did you find out something else?” Sullivan asked her.

  Celia’s lips parted, but then she shook her head. “Nothing that can help us.”

  “You checked in with your supervisor at the agency, didn’t you?” He remembered the guy. Ronald Worth. A by-the-book fellow who’d believed in running a tight ship. Until that ship exploded in his face.

  “He says that I’m not on any agent termination list. Ronald swears the threat isn’t coming from the agency.”

  “Then who’s targeting you?”

  She turned back to face the lake. “It’s really beautiful. I mean, I knew the lake was here. It was on the mapping schematics I retrieved, but seeing it in person is something else entirely.”

  “You got schematics of the ranch property?”

  She nodded. “I knew the one thing you wanted most was to find out who killed your parents. And I wanted to give that to you. So I dug...and I bartered and I traded my way to information.” She tipped back her head and closed her eyes. “Sometimes, I feel like I know your world so well, but then other times, I realize how much of a stranger you are to me.”

  She was confusing him. Typical Celia. She’d always been a puzzle he couldn’t figure out.

  “Why would you want to help me?”

  Her lips curved into a smile. “That’s something you’ll have to figure out on your own.”

  “Celia...” He heard a door slam. Sullivan glanced over his shoulder and saw that Davis had followed him outside. Seriously, his brother needed to back off. Jaw locking, Sullivan focused on Celia again. Her eyes were still closed, as if she’d shut out the world.

  Or maybe just him.

  “Do you know my brother Davis?”

  “No.”

  “Are you sure, Celia? He thinks you look familiar to him.”

  And her eyes opened. She cocked her head as she studied him. “Are you asking if I tried to recruit your brother?”

  “Yes.”

  She shook her head. “I’ve never met Davis. Just you and Mac. You’re the only two McGuires I know.”

  He could practically feel his brother closing in on him. “Well, you’re about to meet Davis. You’re about to meet them all.”

  “No, I told you, I’d stay in the guesthouse and—”

  “Are you ever bringing her inside, Sully?” Davis asked as he closed in on them.

  Celia blinked and—just that fast—her expression was a perfect blank. Almost like a doll’s mask. He didn’t like that. He wanted to see her emotions, the good and the bad. Sullivan didn’t want Celia to ever hide from him again.

  He moved his body, taking up a protective position in front of her. If she didn’t want to face his family, he’d make sure they backed off until she was ready for them.

  “You have answers that we need, ma’am,” Davis said, his voice softer, gentler. Never let it be said that Davis didn’t know how to manipulate and charm in order to get what he wanted. Because gentle? That was the last thing Davis actually was. “So why don’t you come inside so we can all talk?”

  “She doesn’t want to come inside,” Sullivan gritted out. “I’m taking her to the guesthouse. I’ll discuss the situation more with Celia when we’re alone and see what she—”

  “Why does that happen?” Davis asked, cutting him off.

  Guarded now, Sullivan said, “What?”

  “When you say her name, your face changes. So does your voice.”

  Hell. Davis always had been far too observant.

  Davis put his hands on his hips and rocked back on his heels. “You’re not a client, are you?”

  Celia stepped around Sullivan. “If Sully told you I’m a client, then that’s exactly what I am.”

  Davis smiled. It wasn’t an overly friendly sight. Typical Davis. “I’ve seen you before.”

  “No,” Celia said with certainty. “You haven’t. We’ve never met.”

  Davis lifted one dark eyebrow. “I never said we’d met. Just that I’d seen you before.” He cocked his head as his gaze swept over her. “But your hair was a different color then. Darker, almost black, if I remember correctly.”

  Sullivan’s guts knotted. “Davis...” With that growl, he tried to warn his brother to shut the hell up.

  Davis decided to ignore his warning. “I first saw your photo when I helped Sullivan move into his place. He didn’t want to stay here, you see, too many bad memories.” He glanced around the ranch. “For a while, all anyone saw was the blood and the death, so I understood that he wanted to leave.”

  Celia’s expression gave nothing away.

  “He had a framed photo of you.” Davis shook his head. “Crazy thing is...I could have sworn you two were in some kind of chapel.”

  “You never said a word to me,” Sullivan snapped. If the guy had seen the photo, why not question him?

  Davis just shrugged. “I figured if you wanted me to know, you’d tell me. But you never did. The years passed, and instead of talking to me, you kept your secrets.” He advanced toward Sullivan. “And you started to change. You shut yourself down. I can still remember when you’d laugh freely. When you’d look at the world without suspicion in your eyes.” His hand clapped down on Sullivan’s shoulder. “With every day that passed, you just pulled away more and more.” His hold tightened. “Are you coming back now? Since she’s here, are you coming back?”

  And Sullivan didn’t know what the hell he was supposed to say.

  Chapter Five

  He had her picture.

  Celia was pretty much floored by that revelation. A man wouldn’t keep a woman’s picture, not unless she mattered, right? And she did vaguely remember someone snapping a photo of them at the chapel in Vegas. She’d been so excited then, nearly delirious with happiness for the first time in her life, so she hadn’t even stopped to wonder what happened
to that image.

  Now she knew. Sullivan had kept it.

  He stood toe-to-toe with his brother. There was so much tension in the air. She wanted to back away from them, but she couldn’t. Celia felt glued to Sullivan’s side. No, more than that—she felt protective. It was obvious Davis realized Sullivan had been keeping secrets, but he didn’t know the hell Sullivan had endured when he was taken captive. Sullivan had shouldered that burden.

  She cleared her throat, wanting to draw Davis’s attention away from Sullivan. “I’m Celia James,” she said, and offered her hand.

  His head turned toward her. His eyes were just as green and just as hard as Sullivan’s. “Are you?” His hand curled around hers and she felt the hard press of his calluses against her skin. “Or are you Celia McGuire?”

  According to Ronald, I am Celia McGuire. But he had to be wrong. And she wasn’t about to talk about that news, not right now. That particular bombshell would wait to be dropped—once she found out whether or not it was even true.

  “Celia James,” she said again, flatly. “Sullivan and I are divorced.” Are we? She pulled her hand away from his. “And I am a client. Sullivan agreed to help me. It was one of those I-scratch-your-back—”

  “You-scratch-mine deals,” Davis finished as his lips quirked. “Right.” He paused. “I’m supposed to believe that’s the reason you delivered all that intel to him? Because you wanted to pay for his security services?”

  “Well...” She slanted a quick sideways glance at Sullivan. The guy appeared to have frozen—or turned to stone. His expression was hard and deadly...and a bit scary. She was afraid that he’d be unleashing on his brother any moment, and that couldn’t happen. “McGuire Securities does have a top-notch reputation,” Celia replied coolly. “If you want the best, you have to pay for it. By any means necessary.”

  Davis didn’t appear convinced. “And just how is it that you came into possession of such hard-to-acquire material? Because my family has been digging for years, and we couldn’t unearth that particular intel.”