by CJ Lyons
He pushed himself to his feet, hiding his disappointment at her return to business as usual. “Let me discuss our options with Susan and I’ll call you.”
She stopped at the door and looked back. A foreign emotion colored her expression. Envy? Anger? Both? “Tell the senator I’d prefer Leavenworth to Gitmo—food’s better, even if the weather’s worse.”
As soon as the door closed behind her, he allowed himself a grin. Rose felt the same about him as he did her. Now that he was certain, all he had to do was help her see it for herself. Prove to her that she could trust him with her heart.
He washed his hands and rolled his shirtsleeves down, snapping the wrinkles from the soft cotton. Ran through his to-do list: save the woman he loved from life in prison for treason, save his team from the traitor in their midst, save the nation from the Preacher’s people and whatever they had planned.
All in a day’s work.
His phone rang again. Susan. Again.
The senator wasn’t going to let Rose off the hook easily. Her committee and the White House needed someone to take the fall for what had happened last week.
Well, okay, maybe two days’ work.
Chapter 6
KC rushed toward Chase’s hospital room, anxious to see him and fill him in on what happened on the Mall that morning, but more than that, she was excited to finally be bringing him home. Her bed had been too lonely these last few nights, and much too cold.
“So today’s the big day,” she said as she breezed through the door and into his room. A physical therapist was there, adjusting Chase’s crutches. KC was glad to see that someone had convinced him that he actually needed to use them.
Chase didn’t say a word. Just glowered at her as he fumbled to get out of the bed.
“Here, let me help you.” The therapist, a young woman with short brown hair, hurried forward and grabbed his arm to steady him while he got on his feet, pulling his crutches under his armpits. “There you go, good as gold.” She turned to KC. “I’ll just leave a note in his chart. Take care, now.”
“I can’t wait to get out of this place,” he grumbled after the therapist had left and the door was shut behind her.
KC grinned. “Really? I never would've guessed. You gonna walk out like that?” She pivoted forward, catching a nice view of his bare backside beneath the lopsided hospital gown tied at the back of his neck.
“I don’t give a fig as long as I get out of here.”
“I’m sure the nurses will appreciate that,” she said, appreciating the view herself.
He groaned and dropped back down on the bed, taking care not to jostle his right ankle swathed in its thick, black plastic splint. A walking cast, they called it, even though the doctors still wanted him to stay off his leg for a few more days. Yeah, right, like that was going to happen. “They’re trying to kill me in here.”
“It hasn’t been that bad.”
“You don’t know. You’re not here when they are poking and prodding, pulling and twisting. Sadists, every one of them. They enjoy seeing my pain.” He looked at her as if he’d just confided in her the world’s biggest secret.
She tried hard to keep a sympathetic look on her face and not laugh, but the corners of her lips were twitching. What was it about hospitals that could turn the roughest, toughest guys into two-year-olds?
“Sit back and I’ll help you get dressed.” She picked up the overnight bag she’d brought and dropped it next to him on the bed, opened it up and pulled out a pair of boxers. “Now let’s put on your big-boy panties and get you out of here.”
He glared at her. “I don’t need your help.”
This time she lost it. She laughed. She couldn’t help it. The sound filled the small room, which made him even grumpier. She leaned in for a kiss. “You are adorable.”
He growled, then wrapped his arms around her in a crushing hug and fell backward onto the bed, pulling her on top of him and planting a big kiss on her lips. “I’ll show you adorable.”
She broke away. “You really are feeling better.”
“Want me to show you how much better?” He nuzzled her neck. Fire shot straight to her core.
“How about we wait until we get you back home?” she said, her voice thickening as desire coiled in her belly.
“Where’s your sense of adventure?” he asked, and she knew he was playing with her, getting her back for playing with him. She had half a mind to call him on it and show him just how adventurous she could be.
“Trust me, darling. I can show you more adventure than you can handle. Anytime. Anywhere.” She straddled his lap and wiggled, then bent over and pulled his earlobe into her mouth where she sucked it deeply before giving it a final flick with her tongue.
He groaned, and she smiled with satisfaction. “But, unfortunately, Jay’s on his way to meet us here.”
“Here? Now?” He groaned. “You are a wicked, wicked woman.”
She wiggled again. Grinning. “Sorry, but we have a lot to talk about.”
Refusing to let her go, he pressed his lips to hers. “Fine. But once things calm down, if they ever calm down, you will finish that walk down the aisle. Then you’ll be all mine.”
“You just want to see me in a dress,” she countered.
“I want to see you wearing my ring.”
“All that matters is that we’re both safe and together.” She pulled him close for another kiss, her arms snaking around his neck, her breasts pressing against his hard chest. He let loose a sound of utter satisfaction and banded his arms around her. She smiled without breaking the kiss.
“Someday we’ll have all the time in the world,” she promised, savoring the salty sweet taste of his skin.
“Guess that’s one kind of physical therapy,” a voice said from the doorway.
KC bolted upright, then jumped off Chase and down off the bed. “Jay!”
“Hey,” Chase protested as he fumbled with the short hospital gown. “Ever learn how to knock?”
“Did. You just didn’t hear.” Jay’s eyes went as wide as his grin. “Good thing it was me and not some young, impressionable candy striper.”
KC pulled Chase’s younger brother into a bear hug. “I was just helping him get dressed so we can get him out of here.”
“Oh, is that what you call it?” Jay asked.
Before she could say another word, her phone rang. She glanced down at the display. Teresa. “I have to get this,” she said, heading toward the door. “Jay, can you finish.” She gestured toward Chase.
“Absolutely.” Jay grinned. “I would love to dress my big brother.”
KC heard Chase groan again as she walked out of the room. “What’s up, Teresa?”
“Just checking in. EZ mentioned Chase might be going home today. Wanted to see if you needed anything. I have some brownies to bring by—heard he demolished the first batch I sent.” The blonde's perky voice came through the line. Teresa, their communications guru, was the heart of their organization at the STR, always keeping track of where everyone was and what they needed. The woman was like a mother cat herding her kittens, keeping them all warm and well fed.
KC, who had never had a mother figure, never had anyone who treated her like that, loved her dearly. Which made the fact that, given what Lucky said this morning, Rose suspected someone on the Team of betraying them all the more disturbing. Plus, she didn’t appreciate not being completely read into the situation before everything went down on the Mall that morning.
“You can hold off on the brownies,” she said reluctantly. Teresa’s baking skills rivaled her technical expertise. “I’m at the hospital now. But the way he’s acting, I might need to borrow some extra restraints to keep him home and in bed where he’s supposed to be resting.”
Teresa chuckled. “Call me anytime. I babysit my brother’s toddlers. If I can handle three-year-old twin boys, I can handle Chase.”
“Might just take you up on that. Thanks.” KC hung up and returned to the room.
&nbs
p; Jay had Chase’s jeans out of the bag. “Come on, big guy. You can lean right here.” Jay pointed to his shoulder.
Chase glowered at him. “I can manage.”
“Okay.” Jay drew out the syllables, making it sound like he didn’t believe him. “I just wouldn’t want you to fall down and break a hip or anything, old man.”
Chase grabbed him in a chokehold and throttled him until they were both laughing. KC smiled. So much had happened in the six weeks since she’d met Chase. Now she couldn’t imagine living her life without both of the Westin brothers in it. It had been a crazy ride, and yet, she never would have dreamed how much these two men would change her life.
Then she frowned. The ride and the craziness weren’t over yet. Thanks to the Preacher and his nut-job followers.
“How about we grab some lunch?” Jay asked, his stomach rumbling. “I need some real food.”
“Tired of college cafeteria grub, eh?” Chase asked.
Jay nodded. “You have no idea.”
KC saw her opportunity. “Good. Then you won’t mind coming with us, staying a few days.”
Both Jay and Chase frowned at that. “Er, I wouldn’t want to intrude,” Jay said. “I mean, with Chase just coming home. Besides, I have exams next week, tons of work to do.”
“Right,” Chase said, clearly puzzled. “Exams come first. Can’t mess with the kid’s education, can we, KC?”
Twin pairs of dark blue eyes settled on KC. She grimaced, closed the door to the room, and perched on the bed beside Chase, taking his hand. “Got some bad news, guys. None of us are going home. At least not anytime soon.”
<><><>
Before Billy could call Susan, his phone rang again. Hollywood, reporting in from Atlanta where he’d gone to check out a former CDC scientist, Dr. Celeste Rayburn. Two months ago, she’d reported her fiancé missing, house vandalized, and all her savings gone. When the police found no evidence that her boyfriend even existed, and it looked like she’d been the one who withdrew her savings and vandalized her own house, they’d threatened to charge her with fraud.
In the end, she’d lost her security clearance and eventually her job. Too bad, because everything they’d discovered about her revealed her to be a brilliant, although perhaps neurotic and unstable, scientist.
“What if we’re wrong?” Hollywood said without preamble. “What if she’s not really crazy? Maybe someone’s trying to Gaslight her?”
“Gaslight?”
“Old movie, Charles Boyer tries to drive his wife crazy so he can have her committed and take control of her money.”
“Is Rayburn rich?”
“Well, no. But, damn it, I believe her.” It was clear the admission cost Hollywood. Especially as he’d been the one who was convinced that Celeste Rayburn was hiding something.
“So the Atlanta PD and Homeland Security both got it wrong?”
“Yes. There’s something going on here.” Hollywood was adamant. Billy had never seen the former Naval Intelligence officer get so emotionally involved with a subject. In fact, Hollywood was known for his detachment. He could get into a subject’s head, convince him he was their best friend, obtain the confession he was after, and walk away without a second thought. Rumor was his relationships with women went about the same.
“Let’s say she's telling the truth,” Billy agreed for the sake of argument. “What you’re proposing is a pretty elaborate, long-term scheme. What purpose would it serve? Someone making her look crazy? If they wanted to access her lab, it had the opposite effect—”
“But the lab’s just Petri dishes and Bunsen burners. Celeste—er—Dr. Rayburn is what made it important. She wrote all the protocols. Everything’s right there in her mind.” Billy could hear tires squealing and the sound of car horns. “Damn it, that’s it, Edge. They weren’t trying to get to her lab or make her go crazy. They just needed us to take away her security clearance and think she was crazy—”
“You think they’re after her.”
“And if she vanishes, everyone will just think she finally went off her rocker. Damn it, I need to get back over there.”
“Okay. Stay on the doctor. But, Hollywood,” Billy inserted a note of caution in his voice, “there’s still a chance she hasn’t told you everything. Stay alert.”
<><><>
Rose left Billy’s townhouse and blindly turned north. The January sun was pale, providing no heat despite the fact that it was now mid-day. She walked aimlessly, mingling among the lunchtime crowds, her mind racing with too many facts, figures, and possibilities, all colliding like colored glass in a kaleidoscope. She couldn’t bring the big picture into focus, and she needed that. If she understood what the Preacher’s group wanted, she could create a plan to stop them.
Nothing made sense. If there was a traitor in the Team, then it had to be someone who didn’t know about her spur-of-the-moment decision to go after the Preacher and Lucky last week. Which, unfortunately, didn’t eliminate anyone—she’d gone off on her own in order to protect the Team and provide Billy with plausible deniability if things went wrong.
Take a step back, away from the Preacher, she told herself. A truck honked as she stepped off the curb just as it blew through a red light. It needn’t have bothered; she’d spotted the movement and had already pulled back on her own.
The traitor would know all the Team’s movements—where had the Preacher’s people pulled back? Or tried to deflect Rose’s attention?
Negative space, one of her artist friends called it. The space between the lines.
That’s where Rose lived and breathed. The space where no one ever looked.
Last week hadn’t just been about taking down the Preacher in person. Thanks to Rose’s intuition and the intel on the hard drive Lucky had stolen, they’d stopped almost two dozen terrorist attacks that had been coordinated by the Preacher.
Why hadn’t the mole warned the Preacher about those ops?
Rose pulled up short and glanced around. She’d walked to Georgetown, not far from her home—her real home, not the address listed in her personnel record or any of the bolt-holes she’d established over the years. She looked wistfully in the direction of home. How nice would it be to be a “normal” person and simply stroll home, open the door, and hug her family?
Have a man waiting for her, someone she could trust…someone like Billy. She closed her eyes against the pain of that thought. She should be happy for him, finding someone. Damn it, she was happy. Billy deserved it. Even if Susan Payne didn’t deserve a man like him. What the hell did Billy see in her, anyway?
She shook her head against her petty jealousy. It wasn’t the kind of feeling she was used to. She had no defense against it. Usually, she could block out anything: pain, emotion, pressure, distractions, and focus on what needed to be done. Not today. Today all she could think of was Billy and Susan. Together. A sigh escaped her. Together and happy.
Resolutely, she turned her feet away from home. Too dangerous right now with all eyes on her—good guys and bad—to risk a visit. No matter how tempting.
As she walked away, a twinkle of an idea began to form. An idea about what the Preacher’s group might be trying to hide, distract her from. It wasn’t a pleasant idea. In fact, she didn’t want to think about it at all…but there had been more than one puzzle from last week that hadn’t been resolved.
Hollywood’s CDC scientist, Dr. Celeste Rayburn, was one.
A missing stockpile of a powerful poison gas and its antidote was another.
And the last puzzle, the one that no one wanted to talk about, at least not around Rose. The chatter about Grigor, the Razgravian leader, being involved in the manufacturing and export of bioweapons.
What if the Preacher had ties to Grigor?
Rose shivered and quickened her steps. Grigor. The air refused to enter her lungs.
The man who had tortured her for nineteen days. Her heart twisted.
The man who had almost killed her. Fury tried to suffocate the memory
of pain.
The man who had broken her.
Chapter 7
Billy finally returned Susan’s call.
“I need you and Rose over at Justice,” she said. “They’re waiting to debrief you about this morning.”
“I’ll head over there now,” Billy assured her.
“You and Rose?”
“Rose is off the grid, working an angle.” He’d never discuss a team member’s exact location on an open line, no matter how secure it was meant to be.
Her sigh was a mix of annoyance and frustration. “My job as a United States senator doesn’t include playing babysitter to an operative who has enough experience to know she’d be needed at a debriefing. In fact, I shouldn’t have to call either of you. You should have been calling me, asking me when and where you would be needed.”
Billy blinked at her anger. Usually, Susan was the Team’s staunchest supporter. But given the way the hearing had gone this morning, followed by the explosion on the Mall, he understood her frustration and concern. He decided diplomacy was the best approach to soothe her ruffled feathers. After all, the Team needed all the friends they could get right now. “You’re right. I’m sorry, Susan. I’m on my way.”
As soon as he hung up, the phone rang again. Billy didn’t bother muffling his curse at the intrusive technology, but quickly damped his irritation when he saw it was Teresa, the Team’s communications tech.
“What do you need, T?” he asked.
“A little advice, boss. Like what to do when you’re sitting around, minding your own business, all your co-workers out doing Lord only knows what, but probably something to do with a school bus blowing up near the Capitol, and suddenly there’s a squadron of Homeland Security, FBI, and something called the National Security Division descending on your tiny little cubicle, waving federal subpoenas.”