No Fury

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No Fury Page 38

by Tabatha Kiss


  Caleb sighs and I start to panic. “Box…”

  “And don’t even get me started on the security system. Fox and Dani’s house was nothing compared to the amazing castle I built for my queen.”

  She raises a brow.

  I wink. “That’s you.”

  “Boxcar, I…”

  “Cal, how about we talk it out over a steak burrito?” I ask over her. “The best taco truck in the world is right down the street—”

  “I like it,” she says.

  I blink. “You do?”

  Caleb glances around the bedroom again and nods. “Yeah, I do.”

  “So… does that mean you’ll do it?” I ask. “You’ll move out here?”

  She shrugs a shoulder. “Sure, why not?”

  A giddy rush takes me over and I pick her up, laughing maniacally as I spin us around a few times.

  “Oh, my God. Caleb. That makes me so happy.”

  I set her back down and she laughs.

  “I really think it’s the right thing for us,” I say. “I mean, it’s completely paid off. We won’t have to pay rent or a mortgage or—”

  “Paid off by whom?” she rightfully asks.

  I hesitate. “I’m gonna shield you from that one.”

  Her head tilts. “I think you might be right, Box,” she says. “And, to be honest, I could use a change. You know, in the time before this beautiful pregnancy squeezes out a screaming infant and our lives completely change all over again.”

  I nod. “Right…”

  She smiles. “I’ve got some soul-searching to do,” she says. “And it doesn’t matter where I am when I do it, as long as I’m with you.”

  “Aww.” My chest burns with warmth. “I love you, too, Cal.”

  Caleb pushes up onto her toes and kisses me. I kiss her back, wrapping my arms around her to pull her closer.

  The doorbell rings.

  I break away from her. “Hold that thought. I’ll be right back.” I point toward the bathroom. “But seriously, check out that tub.”

  She smiles and walks into the bedroom as I turn to rush back down the stairs.

  I tap the monitor by the front door to look outside.

  A woman stands in the hallway. She wears a deep black pantsuit, her sharp, blonde hair tied back in a tight bun on her head.

  I enable the speaker. “Hello. Can I help you?”

  She turns her head toward the speaker, quickly finding the camera, and smiles. “Hello, Mr. Carson. My name is Lydia Russell. May I have a few minutes of your time?”

  “Perhaps. What’s this about?”

  “It’s a little sensitive for the hallway, Mr. Carson.”

  I raise a brow. “Who are you with, Ms. Russell?”

  She withdraws a badge from her pocket and holds it up to the camera.

  Oh. The Central Intelligence Agency.

  Fuck.

  “I’m just here to talk, Mr. Carson,” she says, lowering the badge.

  I slowly disable the lock and open the door. “Talk about what specifically?” I ask.

  She smiles. “Are you familiar with a man named Archer Allen?”

  I straighten up. “Super tall? Flowy blond hair? British?”

  “That’s the one,” she says with a nod.

  “Yeah, I know him. Why?”

  She gestures over my shoulder with her eyes and I take a step back to let her inside.

  “Mr. Archer contacted me recently,” she says. “He and I worked together on a joint mission with MI-6 many years ago. He had some nice things to say about you.”

  I close the door and put my back to it. “Really?”

  She flicks the latch on her briefcase. “So, I took the liberty of looking into your history. Your record is… quite impressive.”

  “It’s all lies, I swear.”

  “I found your stint in the military particularly interesting,” she says. “Sergeant Martin Rhys took extensive notes on your unofficial time with his unit.”

  I hold my breath. “Did he?”

  “Can’t say I’ve ever heard of a civilian intelligence freelancer myself but you were a valuable member of his team, from what he wrote. You kept a lot of men alive out there. He was very fond of you.”

  “I was just… serving my country. No big deal.” I clear my throat. “Ms. Russell, what is this about?”

  “This is just a feeler meeting, Mr. Carson,” she says.

  “Feeling for what?”

  “You’re a talented man. We’re a business of talented people. It’s my job to find them and extend a hand.”

  She withdraws a manila envelope from her case and holds it out to me.

  I blink. “You want me to work for the CIA?”

  “I want you to think about it, yes,” she says, taking a step closer and urging me to take the envelope.

  I stare at it for another moment before I let myself take it.

  “Any questions you might have are answered in there,” she says. “Everything else, just give me a call. You’ll find my card inside.”

  I take a deep breath, soaking it in. “Archer, huh?” I ask.

  She smiles and latches her briefcase. “When Archer calls, I answer,” she says. “He doesn’t recommend just anybody.”

  Well, he did say I wouldn’t have a problem finding a job.

  Thanks, buddy.

  “I won’t keep you any longer,” she says. “Ball is in your court, Mr. Carson.”

  I open the door wide for her. “Thank you, Ms. Russell.”

  “And congratulations,” she says in the doorway. “I heard you were expecting.”

  I nod. “Yeah, we are.”

  She bows her head. “Have a good day.”

  “You, too.”

  She disappears down the hall and I close the door.

  “You know you’re taking that job, right?”

  I look over at Caleb standing at the bottom of the stairs.

  I let out a laugh and shake the envelope. “Do I have a choice?” I ask. “I feel like there may have been an asterisk in that offer somewhere.”

  “Well, asterisk or not, we need income,” she says as she walks over. “And if Archer can get you in the back door of the CIA — I say go for it.”

  I drop the envelope on the table by the door. “I will pour over this later.”

  Caleb looks at the package on the floor. “What’s that?”

  “I don’t know,” I say, bending over to grab it.

  “Where’s it from?”

  “It’s from…” I read the label and raise a brow. “Russia.”

  She squints. “Who do we know in Russia?”

  “Oh, you know. Just… the mob.”

  I pry it open, my curiosity piqued. Caleb hovers on her tippy toes to look inside as I push away an assortment of packing foam over another large box.

  “Is that a mobile?” she asks, studying the box. “For a crib?”

  I slide it out, turning it over to check the pictures on the side. Bright and colorful animals hanging among shooting stars.

  “It is,” I confirm.

  Caleb takes it from me, looking confused. “Why did the mob send us a mobile?”

  I check the box again, finding a small envelope. “Sofia, I’m guessing…” I mutter as I open it. I slide out the card and read it aloud.

  “For your peanut.”

  Caleb pauses. “What?”

  She takes it from my hand and reads it for herself. Her expression stays blank for a moment before she softly smiles.

  “It’s from my dad,” she says.

  I lay a comforting hand on her shoulder. “And… are you okay with that?” I ask.

  She nods. “Yeah, I think I am.”

  I take the box and set it down before pulling her in for a hug. She rests her head on my chest and I kiss her forehead, letting her stay here for as long as she needs.

  Caleb raises her head and wipes the silent tear from her cheek. “So…” She straightens up. “You said something about a taco truck?”

&n
bsp; I clap my hands and reach for the door. “Yes! You’re gonna love it. Milo’s a genius.”

  She kisses my cheek and walks out into the hallway.

  I pause in the doorway, taking another quick peek back into my condo.

  Make that our condo.

  But Caleb was absolutely right. In the end, it doesn’t matter where we are.

  As long as I’m with her.

  Sixty-Nine

  Fox

  Of all the funerals I’ve feared, this is the one I dreaded the most.

  Danielle Roxanne Roberts. The world knew her as Roxie.

  Fans traveled from all over the country to be here today. To pay their respects and say goodbye to the biggest star of their generation. The cemetery is barricaded off for privacy but the crowd outside the gate grows larger every minute. Shouting fans and flashing lights.

  She’d hate this.

  Fortunately, most people don’t have to attend their own funerals.

  Bennett spotted me as soon as the service began but he kept his distance until they lowered the casket. I stay off to the side, lingering beneath a tree a few rows down, until he finally makes his way over to me.

  He’s cleaned up since the last time I saw him. His face is shaved and he’s gotten a haircut. His suit is sharp and fitting.

  Still got that angry look, though.

  “Hey, Bennett,” I say. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

  He looks at me with squinting eyes, almost as if he’s about to deck me right here. “Why are you here?” he asks.

  “I came to pay my respects.”

  “Bullshit,” he says. “You think I wouldn’t be able to identify my own daughter’s body?”

  I bite down. “Look, Bennett…”

  “This is theater, Fox,” he says. “Obviously, you got her so mixed-up in your drama, she couldn’t come back out again. Am I right?”

  I say nothing.

  “And if you’re here,” he says, “then that means you’ve got something to say. So, go right ahead and do it so I can go home.”

  I extend my hand to him.

  Bennett’s eyes fall and he stares at it for several moments before giving me a silent handshake.

  “I hope you find some peace, Bennett,” I say.

  He takes a deep breath and releases my hand. “Maybe I will, maybe I won’t.” He shifts backward. “Just take care of my daughter, Fox.”

  Again, I say nothing as he walks off toward the casket again.

  I take one more look around the cemetery before heading back to the car. I unlocked the doors and lower myself into the driver’s seat, happy to feel the cool rush of air conditioning strike my face.

  “How is he?” Dani asks from the passenger’s seat.

  I nod. “He’ll be all right, I think.”

  Her chest quivers as she exhales. Her eyes shimmer with unfallen tears as she looks through the heavily-tinted windows at the close friends and family who were allowed to attend the private service.

  “Dani, are you sure about this?” I ask.

  She takes a moment. “I’m as sure as I was the last time you asked me. So, you know… kind of sure. Maybe.”

  I turn my palm up and she places her hand in mine.

  “Can’t back out now anyway, right?” she asks, chuckling. “Once the casket is in the ground, it’s game over. Right? No coming back from that.”

  I squeeze her hand. “Dani.”

  “Except you, I guess. You had a funeral, too.”

  “Dani.”

  She turns her head, pausing for a moment before finally looking at me.

  “We’ll do whatever you want,” I say. “Just say the word and we’ll go back.”

  Dani looks out the window. She stares at the lines of tombstones stretched out in both directions with soft, pensive eyes.

  “No,” she says. “Let her stay dead.”

  I raise her hand to my mouth and kiss her knuckles. “It’s not game over, Dani. You can’t think of it like that. You’re still here. I’m still here.”

  “We’re surviving,” she says. “Even if only for the sake of existing in the same world together.”

  “Exactly,” I say. “That might not sound like much, but it’s a lot.”

  She nods. “No,” she says, her face calmer. “It’s everything.”

  I lean over the seat and she meets me in the middle. I kiss her cheek first, one soft peck before shifting over to her lips.

  “So…” She sits back and stares at the road ahead. “Where do you go after you die?” she asks.

  “Well…” I turn the ignition and the car roars with life. “There’s only one place I’d go.”

  Dani smiles. “Then, let’s go.”

  I turn off onto a dirt road and glance over at Dani’s smiling face. She bounces with eager anticipation and I can’t help feel a touch of it as well as I navigate the familiar back roads.

  The farmhouse comes into view, looking exactly like it did all those times before. One story tall, white. A small cabin off the driveway. A rocking chair on the porch.

  The front door opens as we park and Barbara Clark walks outside, drying her hands on a dish towel. Her husky, Sammy, rushes out under her feet and plants himself between her and our car.

  I get out and she squints her wrinkled eyes. “Fox?” she asks. “Is that you?”

  I nod. “Yeah, it’s me.”

  “Hell, son… I almost didn’t recognize you without that awful beard.”

  I laugh. “It’s nice to see you, too, Mrs. Clark.”

  Dani climbs out of the passenger’s side and Mrs. Clark’s jaw drops.

  “My God, Dani?” She gasps. “I heard you were dead!”

  Dani steps onto the porch, easily passing Sammy’s smell test. “If anybody asks, I am,” she says.

  “Duly noted, honey.”

  They hug as I step closer to the porch, stopping dead in my tracks a few feet away from Sammy.

  The dog regards me for a moment and I expect to hear his growl any second now.

  Finally, he lowers down to the porch and exhales. Guess I don’t smell like a threat to him anymore.

  I scratch his head as I pass and Mrs. Clark opens her arms to me for a hug far tighter than I was expecting.

  “You two hungry?” she asks as she steps back. “I’ve got a stew brewing.”

  “I’m starving,” Dani says. “Thank you.”

  I nod. “You don’t mind if we stay a while, do you?”

  Mrs. Clark gestures to the cabin. “I haven’t touched it since you two left last. Stay as long as you want. You know I appreciate the help.”

  “Thank you,” I say.

  “Yes,” Dani says. “Thank you very much.”

  Mrs. Clark opens the door and Sammy runs in first. “Come on in when you’re ready,” she says. “I wanna hear about why Dani’s dead.”

  Dani takes a step forward but I grab her hand, guiding her down the porch stairs. She walks with me to the cabin, the both of us glancing around the farm as we go.

  Our memories here are a mixed bag, unfortunately. There are moments here I’d rather forget about but we have the rest of our lives to replace those with new ones and build a whole future together.

  As husband and wife.

  I stop outside the cabin and pick Dani up, happily cradling her in my arms. She grins and pushes the door open.

  We pause on the outside. She wraps her arms around my neck and kisses me softly, immersing us a little deeper in the moment.

  “I love you,” I say, “Mrs. Fitzpatrick.”

  She brushes our lips together. “I love you, too, Mr. Fitzpatrick.”

  One more kiss and I carry her over the threshold into the cabin.

  Also by Tabatha Kiss

  OLD HABITS SERIES

  Meet the Naughty Men of Clover, Kansas…

  Steamy, Small Town Romances!

  The Mechanic

  The Milkman

  RICH BITCHES SERIES

  Wealth. Power. Brunch.

 
Pretty Little Thing

  Pretty Dirty Trick

  Pretty Ever After

  SWEET CRAVINGS SERIES

  Sugary Sweet. Sinfully Dangerous.

  Muffin Top

  Hot Sauce

  THE SNAKE EYES SERIES

  Heart-pounding romances. Interconnecting stories.

  One unforgettable adventure!

  Bodyguard

  The Hitman’s Dancer

  Love and Wargames

  Bloodlines

  Hard Bounty

  No Fury

  THE BAD BALLER BOOKS

  Irresistible Sports Romances!

  Whiplash

  Deeper

  Home Run Baby

  THE MIDWEST ALPHAS TRILOGY

  Romantic Suspense in an MMA Underworld!

  Untouched

  Unbroken

  Undying

  THE LUMBERJACK DUET

  Wealth. Power. Wood.

  Lumberjack BOSS

  Lumberjack BRIDE

  MIDNIGHT KISSES

  Short, sweet, and steamy stand-alone reads!

  Billionaire Lover

  THE BELLE ACADEMY BOOKS

  Steamy, sweet, and oh-so-taboo!

  Ruin Me

  2 in the PINK

  For more, go to tabathakiss.com

  About the Author

  Tabatha Kiss lives in Chicago, Illinois. You can probably catch her huddled up in a hoodie, reading a good romance beneath a tree in Jackson Park with her trusty husky by her side. She enjoys roller derby, sushi, and is always searching for her forever bad boy.

  In the meantime, she writes.

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