by T. K. Leigh
Spinning on my heels, I made my way back to the church. Entering the vestibule, the sound of angelic voices met me, and I took a seat toward the rear, listening to the choir sing at the start of the mass. I blanked out as I went through the motions of the Catholic ritual. I recognized a few of the parishioners as being friends of my mother’s, who she only knew because of her involvement in one church group or another, but many people in attendance were unknown to me.
Life in San Antonio was always odd. Even after we finally moved out of the rectory and into a house I had no idea how we could afford, we remained secluded. At first, I was so excited I could finally go to school again instead of being taught by the nuns at the church. However, I quickly learned that wasn’t the case. There was no going to school for me. The only friends I had were those I met at church but, even then, they all had their own circle of friends from their own school. When I was invited to parties or any social events, I was strictly forbidden from going. Instead, I remained hidden in our house, our only visitors the nuns who continued to teach me. I was shocked when Father David actually persuaded my mother that going away to college was a good thing for me. I wondered where I would be had I not left. Would I still be cooped up in the house with very little social contact, or would I have died in the crash that took my mother’s life, too?
Lost in my thoughts, I didn’t know how much time had passed before I heard the familiar sound of a step followed by a thump. Sensing a presence in the pew behind me, I started to turn around.
“Face forward,” he growled, his voice barely above a whisper. “You know the drill.”
Nodding, I said, “I’m sorry.”
It was silent while I listened to the first reading. I only had a short amount of time with my father and I needed to take advantage of every second. Ignoring his admonition, I whispered, “Charlie broke into my condo.”
“Shhh… Wait for a hymn. Voices echo.”
I nodded, taking the time to formulate my thoughts. Finally, after an excruciatingly long time, I heard the organ.
“You need to realize he couldn’t have been responsible for your mother’s death, mi bichito. According to my source, he was sent to Walter Reed after he attacked you.”
“He could have sent someone,” I insisted.
“I absolutely agree it wasn’t a simple car wreck. Your mother was a target, and I think she was targeted to draw me out of hiding.”
“It worked, didn’t it?” I glanced over my shoulder, wondering what the criminal implications were for impersonating a priest. Somehow, I had a feeling that was the least of his worries, the years of secrecy and deception making me think something bigger was at play here.
“Turn around, Mackenzie.”
“Yes, Padre.”
“I don’t like this situation any more than you do, but until I know that no harm will come to you, I need the world to think I’m still dead.”
“He’s doing it again,” I said softly.
“Shhh,” he said once the music stopped. I hated how the only conversations I ever had with my father were with organ music in the background. I wanted to finally be able to see him more than a few times a year. But, as he had warned time and time again, it was better if the world believed he was a ghost.
I blanked out once more, listening to the soothing voice of Father David Slattery. During my adolescent years, he was like the father I never had, treating me as he would his own daughter, if he were able to have one. Even after my mother and I were finally able to come out of hiding and start our new lives, Father David visited us at our new home nearly every day. I felt closer to him than I did my own father, who I didn’t feel I really knew.
“What was Charlie saying now?” my father asked once the choir began to sing again.
“He was going on and on about how he knows my real name, that I am the Serafina Galloway who disappeared and was declared dead all those years ago. He was begging me to admit I’m her and that you’re still alive. Part of me feels bad for him… He had that look again. It was frantic and agitated. I played it off, even got a bit emotional and angry. I hate that I had to lie to him. He was trying so hard…”
“You have to,” he insisted. “Promise me.”
My shoulders sinking, I nodded. “I promise you.”
“Thank you, mi bichito.”
A tense silence fell over us and I mustered the courage to finally tell him about everything else. “I’ve been getting strange phone calls,” I said softly.
“What kind of phone calls, Serafina?”
“Scary phone calls. Somewhat threatening.”
“Threatening?” he asked and I could hear the concern in his voice. It reminded me of the old days when we were a real family.
I nodded. “Three clicks from an unloaded gun. They’ve called several times over the past two weeks.”
“When was the last phone call?”
“Friday. And then…”
“Yes? What?”
“On Sunday, instead of a phone call, I got a visit.”
“Who is it?” There was an urgency in his tone and I knew he was just as puzzled by the incidents as I was.
“I don’t know. I never saw his face. I went to the police when I first started getting the phone calls−”
“Waste of your time,” he interjected quickly. “I’ll talk to Father Slattery and see if he can use some of his contacts to run a trace on your cell.”
I nodded, about to open my mouth to tell him about the break-ins when he interrupted, “I must get back. It looks odd enough that a priest who never says a mass is sitting in on one.”
“When can I see you again?”
“I need to leave tomorrow.”
“Where are you going?”
“I can’t tell you, Serafina. It’s too−”
“Dangerous,” I interrupted. “I’m starting to think everything’s too dangerous for me lately.”
“It’s necessary. One day, this will all be a distant memory and we’ll be able to tell everyone our real names and where we came from.”
“When?” I spun around and looked deep into his blue eyes.
“I don’t know, little bug.” He reached his hand out, as if wanting to wipe the tear that had fallen down my cheek, but stopped short. I love you, Serafina, he mouthed. “God be with you, Mackenzie,” he said, gesturing the sign of the cross.
“And also with you, Father Baldwin.” I kept my eyes glued to his. “I love you, Papa,” I whispered. And with that, Francis Galloway, now known as Father Baldwin, retreated from the pew, leaving me with a sinking feeling in my gut about when I would see him next.
Tyler
LATE WEDNESDAY AFTERNOON, I checked my watch and dashed out of the back of my club, cursing under my breath at how I had let time get away from me. I hopped into my Bronco and tore out of the parking lot, driving down the street toward the north end of the island. As I was sitting at a traffic light, I heard my cell begin to ring.
“Alex, what is it?” I barked, answering the call. “I don’t have a lot of time.”
“Okay. I’ll make it quick. Just wanted to update you on Charles Montgomery. So far, no one here has been able to uncover anything of use about this guy. Everything is sealed tighter than Fort Knox. Hell, even with a top-level security clearance, I can’t uncover shit.”
“How about using some of your connections? You must know someone over there who can give you something.”
“I’m working on that right now, but all the tight security around this guy’s file makes me a bit suspicious that someone is trying to hide something.”
“Like what?” I asked. I had the same concerns, but the fact that my brother had pulled every string he could and still came up empty only heightened my apprehension.
“I don’t have a fucking clue. All the performance reports that I was able to get my hands on had nothing but exemplary things to say about him. I can’t find out anything he had been working on or any missions he had been a part of. It could all just be
nothing, but I have a bad feeling in my gut that something strange is going on.”
“Any developments regarding the guy who broke into Mackenzie’s place on Monday?” I asked, turning into the entrance to her condo building, punching in the code, and pulling into a parking spot.
“No. Not yet. They’re working on getting a clear shot of this guy’s face so they can run it. You’re right. There’s no way it was Montgomery, but there’s no telling who it is yet. I pulled her phone records. Most incoming calls have been from numbers we were able to trace to her friends or her restaurant. One phone call came from a blocked number and I’m guessing it’s a burner phone. All of this has me a bit worried. We need to operate under the assumption that whoever it was, they intended to at least spook Mackenzie. At worst−”
“Got it,” I interrupted, not wanting him to finish his statement. I knew all too well what the worst case scenario could be and I refused to let that happen.
“Just keep her safe and alive.”
“Nothing will happen to her.”
“Good. I’ll call you tomorrow. I have a guy who’s going to try to get a look at physical records over at Walter Reed, but it’s not exactly legal. And if anyone asks… Well, you know the drill. You know nothing.”
I shook my head, laughing. “Why does that not surprise me?”
“Nothing should anymore, not after working here for a couple years. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
“Got it.” I hung up and ran across the parking lot when I saw Mackenzie pull her car into her assigned spot.
I approached the Mercedes, grinning to myself when my eyes fell on her rummaging through the trunk of her car for her small suitcase and laptop bag, completely oblivious to my presence just a few feet away. She was humming a melody, swaying her hips along to the rhythm. I halted in my tracks and drank in the view of her small and tight backside moving to the music in her head. It was a beautiful sight to behold, the skinny jeans and tight tank top not leaving much to my imagination. All too soon, she slammed the trunk in time with the downbeat of the song in her head and spun around, stopping abruptly, taking a quick breath.
I crossed my arms in front of my chest and grinned a mischievous grin at her.
“Ummm, hi,” she said, brushing a tendril of dark hair behind her ear. “Do you make it a habit of staring at women in parking lots?”
“No. Not all women. Just you.”
“Creeper,” she retorted, heading toward the building.
“I’ll take that,” I said, grabbing the handle of her suitcase as I followed her through the parking lot. “How was your drive?”
“Good. Uneventful.”
“And San Antonio?”
“The same. How long were you waiting for me?”
“Not long. I actually pulled up just before you did, so my timing was perfect.”
She allowed me to open the door for her and proceeded through the lobby of her building, nodding a greeting to Paul before pressing the button for the elevator. An awkward silence passed between us as we waited for it to arrive.
“How was your day yesterday?” she asked, breaking the tension.
“Good,” I answered quickly.
“Did you do anything?”
“You mean besides miss you?” I winked and she turned her face from me, attempting to hide her smile.
The elevator finally arrived and I placed my hand on the small of her back, escorting her into the waiting car. The door closed and the elevator began its ascent up to the twelfth floor. The tension between us was thick. I kept my eyes glued to her body, surveying every inch as if it were the first time I was seeing her. We had only been apart for a little more than twenty-four hours, but I had thought about her almost the entire time. And it wasn’t just because it was my job to think about her, to get into her head, to figure out what she was hiding. It was because I couldn’t stop thinking about the way her body felt against mine, the adorable way she whimpered when overpowered with rapture from my lips on hers, my hands on her, my tongue dragging against her skin.
She must have finally sensed my eyes on her and tilted her head toward me. “Something catch your eye, Mr. Burnham?” she asked flirtatiously.
Licking my lips, I nodded slowly. It was taking every last ounce of self-control to not push her against the elevator wall and greedily claim her mouth. I wanted to. Holy hell, did I want to, but I couldn’t. I needed to keep her on edge. I needed her to be so desperate for me, for my touch, for what I could offer her that she never wanted to leave me again. I needed her to be completely consumed by me…every thought, every dream, every smell reminding her of me. I had already begun to slowly chip away at the wall she had built around herself. I had made more progress with her in such a short time than any other man I had seen approach her over the past several months. I needed to keep tearing down those walls because, in the end, the entire mission was predicated on Mackenzie trusting me with her deepest, darkest secrets. She needed to believe I was in it for the long haul, that I was interested in so much more than her body. And, with each passing moment, this was all becoming true.
The elevator doors finally opened and I followed Mackenzie down the hallway, toward her condo.
“You know,” she said, grabbing the keys from her purse and unlocking the door. “I didn’t invite you in.”
“I’m not inside yet, am I?”
“Sadly, no,” she replied.
I angled toward her. “Please, Mackenzie,” I whispered, my breath kissing her lips. “Please let me in.”
My plea had the desired effect and she swallowed hard. “Okay,” she murmured. “Just be gentle.” She grabbed my hand and held it against her chest, her heart thumping against my palm. “Please,” she begged. “Promise me.”
“I promise you.” I lowered my lips to hers, my motions slow and deliberate, wanting her to feel each touch, each brush of my lips, each stroke of my hands against her back. “I promise I’ll never leave you like I did yesterday, Mackenzie. I was… I was an ass.”
“Don’t apologize. It’s water under the bridge. Plus, after Friday night, it won’t matter anyway.” She grinned.
“Still singing that song?” I raised my eyebrows, pulling away from her.
“A girl’s got to keep a man like you on his toes, doesn’t she? I can’t cave just yet. I’m going to make you work for it.” She spun around, unlocking the door to her condo.
“And I plan on working for it, don’t you doubt that,” I said, following behind her, giving her space to disarm the security system. “Anything appear out of place?” I asked, flipping my mindset from working her as an asset to protecting her as an asset.
“No,” she said, scanning the open living area. “Everything looks just like I left it.”
I nodded, hesitating slightly in the foyer. Mackenzie obviously noticed the shift in my demeanor.
“I can take care of myself, you know. You don’t have to always worry about me. Anyway, the security system is armed. Nothing’s going to happen.”
“Security systems are designed to keep the average criminal out, not a person with special ops training.”
“Tyler,” she said, her voice turning measured and even. “I’m fine.” She took a few steps toward me. “If you want to stay the night, you can just ask.” She hoisted herself onto her toes and kissed my neck, the feel of her lips on my skin causing a fire to smolder within. “If you ask, I’ll say yes.”
“Mackenzie…,” I began, closing my eyes as she continued to trace circles on my skin with her tongue. This woman was going to ruin me.
“Yes?” she said before returning her attention to my neck, slowly dragging her tongue across my collarbone. She barely knew me, but she knew exactly what to do to set me off.
“Can I…?”
“Yes?” She ran her fingers up and down my back, her nails digging in just slightly, causing my erection to push against my jeans, begging to finally be set free.
Growling, I folded my arms around her and enclosed her in my
warmth. I exhaled as a sensation of utter bliss and happiness, which had been distressingly absent the past several years, unexpectedly resurfaced.
“Mackenzie…,” I said, cupping her face in my strong hands.
“Yes?”
“I want to make you feel good,” I said against her lips, kissing her as I guided her across the room toward the couch.
Our mouths continued to move against each other, our kiss measured and subdued. The forcefulness I had typically exhibited during our encounters was lacking. I needed to show her I could be tender. I could be gentle. And, most of all, I could be capable of giving her everything she needed and desired.
I lowered her onto the sofa and hovered over her, my eyes searching hers. “Truth or dare?” I asked, brushing her hair from her face so I could look at her beauty unobstructed.
“Truth,” she hummed, her voice low.
“When’s the last time you allowed yourself to let go?”
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“I think you know exactly what I mean. I want to know the last time you allowed someone else to give you an orgasm, Mackenzie.”
“Eight years,” she choked out.
I pulled back slightly. “Really? Eight years? It’s been that long?”
“Not since I had an orgasm,” she said quickly. “But it’s been that long since I…” She turned her head, her cheeks blushing a bit.
I grabbed her chin and forced her eyes back to mine. “I know you’re not a shy woman. So tell me.”
“I’ve been with men, but I never allowed myself to come,” she admitted.
“Why?” I asked, curious.
“Because I didn’t want to let them in. Because I didn’t want to lose control. Because… Because it feels good and I didn’t want to crave that feeling. I didn’t want to crave the person who gave me that feeling.”
I nodded, understanding why she felt that way. “Mackenzie,” I said, my voice low as I kept my eyes glued to hers.
“Yes?”