by Asha Daniels
But hiding behind a mask.
Jasmine removed the helmet but was unable to move, unsure of what to say. She glanced around the compound and bit her lower lip. The area housed five different vehicles from trucks to sports cars, all with a distinctive stamp of his personality. “You live here.”
“I do.”
“This is like a fortress, but I have to ask. Are you keeping everyone else out of your life or hiding away from the world?” She could see another glint in his eyes, the same look she’d seen before. “What are you hiding from me? What else happened with Stacy?”
“Nothing. I already told you everything. This is my home and yes, it’s well-protected. That’s all you need to know.”
“Why are you lying to me? Why? Don’t you trust me, Cutter? Don’t you want to let me in?” She inched closer and he pulled away, she gathered that everything had indeed changed. They could never share the same level of passion as they had. Never again. She refused to cry, but the sadness was earth shattering.
Cutter turned away. “Come. I’m certain you have a lot more questions. Some of them I can answer.”
“If you never learn to trust anyone, you’re going to end up alone and very lonely. I’m right here. I’ll never leave, if you just let me in.” Why were the words more haunting to her than they could ever be to a damaged man like Cutter Thomas?
“We’ll talk later. Okay? I need to make certain no one followed us. This is my job, Jasmine. The job I was hired to do.”
“Should I be afraid?” The shutdown was complete.
Cutter hesitated before dropping the helmet on an oversized metal bench. When he walked toward her, the look in his eyes was dark. Dangerous. “You should be as I’m the only person capable of keeping you alive.”
Chapter 11
The sins of the few compromise the souls of the majority…
Cutter snarled as the words, the very last statement that Stacy had made furrowed into the back of his mind. They were a nagging, vicious reminder of the ugliness during his incarceration, but they were so damn true. Her words were spot on as usual, as if she’d cut through his personal mask of steel, peeling away the heartache and pain. Jasmine could never learn the final truths. Never. What he’d told her had been more than he’d shared with anyone. Even Jeff had no knowledge of the missing two years and he never would.
Jeff. What the hell?
He paced his office, resisting once again calling Jeff, or anyone else for that matter, since their return to his compound. Could Jeff have anything to do with the sabotage? Well, one thing was for certain. No one was going to know where they were. Not a single person. Yes, this was against protocol and the various rules Jeff Gammon had put into place. However, he’d made a quick decision to bring her here and damn it, he refused to second guess it.
Now, he had to figure out what the fuck was actually going on, although the pieces were starting to come together.
If his time in Purgatory had taught him anything, it was to look beyond the obvious. He hadn’t searched for more than five minutes on the internet to figure out the story Jeff had told him had been a lie. There was no arrest of Johnny Falk. In fact, there’d been no arrest at all. Why the charade? He was more convinced than ever that Jeff had been compromised, especially since the man refused to answer his phone.
He’d thought about placing a call to the FBI but resisted the notion. He had no way of knowing who he could trust. Think. What is the motive? What would anyone gain from harming Jasmine? Why would there be such an extensive plot to track her down?
The answers didn’t come readily, and he was beginning to wonder if they would at all. But the truth would prevail, and the ugly story pierced at his heart. Lies. Everything in his life contained lies.
Including Jasmine.
Wham!
Slamming his hand on the top of his desk, he reveled in the hint of pain. He glared at the pistol. There wasn’t enough armor or ammunition to thwart whoever was coming after her. They would keep coming. A hired gun? Paid for hire? Endless thoughts were creating black pits in his mind. Anger swept through him, creating bile in his throat, a nagging heaviness in his chest. “Fuck.” He leaned over his desk, glaring at his notes, the crude attempt at graphing together the pieces. Nothing made any sense. The on again-off again boyfriend? Why would he bother? The band manager? The man had to know the FBI would find out every sordid detail about his arrest record. Someone hell bent on stripping the senator of his ability to run for President?
The disgusting truth was staring him in the face. The motive? Greed. Maybe revenge. The perp? There were several possibilities in his mind.
“Is there anything I can do to help?”
Cutter clenched his eyes shut, a thudding reverberating in his ears. Exhaling, he waited until he could control his tone of voice before attempting to acknowledge her presence. The snapping sensations cresting throughout his body weren’t entirely about his own misgivings.
Jasmine hadn’t been entirely forthcoming in her information. Then again, neither had the great senator. Was it possible they were working together?
“You can start by telling me the truth,” he said as he snapped his head in her direction.
“What are you talking about?”
She seemed so frail standing in the doorway, her face pinched, her arms folded. Even the way she looked in another one of his shirts, beautiful and yet so very vulnerable was enough to push the anger aside. God. She was beautiful, but her innocence was… He needed a clear head. “We need to talk.”
“Okay. I thought we’ve been talking,” Jasmine whispered, her expression one of confusion.
He eased back and pointed toward the chair in front of his desk. “Take a seat.”
“Is this an interrogation?” She remained where she was. Her body language had changed, becoming more defensive.
“I killed a man just outside of the cabin. Shot him between the eyes.” Cutter had calculated when or if he was going to tell her. Gauging by her reaction, one of shock as well as alarm, she’d had no inkling of what had occurred only hours before. He loathed his lack of utter trust. His mind was reeling, adrenaline pumping to the point he was strangled from his throat closing off.
“What?” Her eyes were wide open as she walked into the room, her face sagging. “You murdered someone?”
Pushing the pistol aside, he sat on the edge of his desk, crossing his legs. “Our position was discovered. Whoever was sent would have been inside the house in less than five minutes. He was trained and heavily armed, we could both be dead.”
“I thought the person was caught.” Her mouth went slack.
“Then why was a hired gun sent to kill us?”
Jasmine wrung her hands together. “Trained. What does that mean?”
“That means that this never had anything to do with a rabid fan vying for your attention, but I honestly think you already know that.”
Jasmine remained stoic, paling just before she looked away. “I have no idea what is going on.”
His bravado was failing, leaving him with a bitter taste in his mouth. “Tell me about Tyler. What did he say to you about the stalker?”
“Not much. He pushed it aside until the last night. He told me that we’d catch the guy.”
Cutter tapped his fingers on the desk. “Did Johnny say anything in particular that bothered you?”
She wrinkled her nose and shook her head then looked him directly in the eyes. “He said that I wasn’t the band’s first choice, that Tyler had insisted I was hired. What does that mean?”
“Could mean nothing.” He made a mental note but at this point, he was beginning to believe the situation had nothing to do with the band.
“I’m still in danger.”
“Yes. I need you to be completely honest with me.” If he played this card, he stood a chance of losing her forever. But he had to know.
“I have,” she insisted.
“Then talk to me about your father. Or should I say your stepfather?
”
Snapping her head in his direction, she gasped. “What… What are you talking about?”
“Did you really think that I wouldn’t be able to find out the truth?” Fiddling through the few printed papers, ugly stories found on the internet, he slid one in her direction.
At first, she made no attempt to come any closer. When she did, she was trembling. She glanced into his eyes before reaching for the paper.
Cutter wasn’t entirely convinced she was reading the article, an obscure and no doubt hidden exposé on Senator Winston Rush and his newly estranged wife. “Someone went to great lengths to hide the story and I can certainly understand why. A renowned and influential couple, a political career moving into high gear and the kind of scandal that would follow for an entire lifetime. I can certainly understand why your father would want to hide this. The reporter tenacious enough to publish the story disappeared. No trace of him.”
“I don’t…” Tears slipped past her lashes and her hands were shaking to the point she almost dropped the paper.
“I’m certain that I can verify the truth with a couple of phone calls, but I don’t think you want any additional attention drawn to the situation. Do you?”
Jasmine finally looked into his eyes, disbelief turning into shock. “What are you trying to tell me? You’re trying to tell me that the man I’ve known my entire life as my father isn’t? That this has something to do with my life being threatened?”
“I do. I think this is exactly why you were threatened, but I’m not convinced that you weren’t behind at least a portion of this.” All his years of training. All his time indentured in various assignments. All the nights spent alone in a damp cement cell with no human contact. He’d never felt this empty inside.
The tension was wretched.
“Cutter. I didn’t know about this. My mother never told me. She never…” Looking down, she allowed the paper to drop and sagged against the chair.
“You and your mother were close. You can’t honestly tell me that you had no idea your mother had an affair with another man beginning two years before you were born. I imagine that’s the reason your father made your mother’s life a living hell. Especially since her contact with her lover didn’t end after the affair was discovered. Or after she became pregnant with you.” While he was only fishing on the last details, he was praying she didn’t react.
“How dare you!” Jasmine continued to shake, her face turning red. “How fucking dare you. You don’t know my mother! You can’t judge her. She had a miserable life. Living with that horrible fuck of a man destroyed her. It took away her spirit, her will to live. You don’t have any idea what you’re talking about!”
The screams remained echoing in the room, floating between them, castrating the slender line that held them close.
Cutter’s body went rigid, a stark chill penetrating his bones. He had to finish this, to find out the truth.
No matter if he destroyed what they’d shared.
“Blackmail is the ugliest form of extortion and I can understand your father’s concern for your safety. You’re right. I don’t know anything about either one of your parents, but I do know a rat when I smell one. Everything was too convenient, including the ease in which we were found.”
She opened her mouth twice before sputtering the enraged words. “Are you suggesting that I called someone and let them know where we were?” When he didn’t respond, she closed the distance, standing over his desk. “How the hell did I know where we were? How?”
“You knew enough including the mountains around Charlottesville. A little store. There are two in the entire area. And you had plenty of time alone.”
“And making love? All the passion?” Tears trickled down both sides of her face, the words strangled. “I thought you loved me.”
His mind was reeling. Thoughts. Their conversations. The closeness. Had he been played as a fool?
“God! You believe I’m a part of this. Don’t you? Don’t you?”
Cutter slid the paper back into the file. His heart was breaking. What if he was wrong? What if she had nothing to do with the threats?
“I see. You do think I was faking. You believe I could… And destroy my father… and…” She backed up slowly, stumbling over the chair. “I hate you! I fucking hate you!”
As she raced out of the room, choking and sobbing, he’d never felt so damn low in his life. Cutter dropped his head into his hands and tried to piece anything together.
Her father wouldn’t want the information out in the open due to his run for President.
Someone made certain the reporter didn’t dig further into the original story.
But what if someone else found out now? Who would benefit? Would the old news matter?
Had she contacted an accomplice with basic information about their whereabouts?
Or was there another person responsible?
Every question had a rhetorical answer and none that gave him any peace.
Rage coursed through his mind as well as his heart. As he jerked to a standing position, he raked his arm across his desk, grunting as the file and every paper fell to the floor.
The ring of his personal cell phone dragged him out of his pity party. He would get some goddamn answers. “Jeff. What in the fuck is going on? How in God’s name were we discovered?”
“Jesus Christ. I’ve tried calling you several times,” Jeff answered. “The call abruptly ended. I thought you were dead.”
“The power went out, but there was an assassin waiting. Let me guess, you had no idea.”
Jeff exhaled. “I was calling you to let you know that the FBI arrested the wrong man. Johnny Falk had nothing to do with the threats made on Jasmine Rush.”
Cutter rubbed his eyes. “Then who? Who the fuck is behind this?”
“That’s why I tried to call you. The FBI found information on Winston Rush, damning information. There’s also been some buzz about you. I know that’s the last thing you want to hear, but we can get through this, buddy. I promise you.”
“What are you talking about?” His head was aching, his temples pounding. Buzz? All the years he’d been able to keep the past private. All the time hiding behind closed doors. Now this?
“Look, I don’t want to go into any details on the phone. Can you meet me somewhere?”
Cutter debated whether to leave the house, especially after his exchange with Jasmine. As his gut churned, his mind delving into various aspects of the past, the article and what he knew about the woman he’d fallen in love with. He made the only decision that he could.
He remembered so many things from his past, the time he’d spent with Jeff, the various stories. As certain memories resurfaced, he was reminded that everyone had a dark secret.
Everyone.
Minutes later, he was ready to talk with Jasmine, to finally tell her the truth, but there was one last thing he needed to do.
There was a single man he could trust and who would bother hearing Cutter out. He’d never called in a favor, had never bothered to ask for anything since leaving the CIA. He debated what could be a caustic decision because he no longer was certain he wanted to know the truth.
Then he made the call.
* * *
Jasmine’s tears had ceased the moment she entered the bedroom, Cutter’s bedroom, throwing herself across the bed. She was used to betrayal. How was this any different? Love? What the hell did she know about love? Her stepfather? Yes, the news should be a shock. And no, it wasn’t in the least. Her mother had attempted to talk with Jasmine, even from her death bed. There’d been innuendoes from both her mother and father. Why hadn’t her father told her anything?
Her father. The words no longer applied. No wonder the man hated her. Jesus. But for Cutter to believe she could be a part of this? Her stomach churned, creating a serious wave of nausea. At this point, she was a prisoner. There was no way of leaving. None. Even if she stole one of his cars, which wasn’t going to happen given the dungeon li
ke atmosphere, where could she go? To her father’s? Right. And have a happy reunion with a daughter he never wanted? What about Johnny? Oh, yeah. That would go over well. She was all alone. How long had she been in the room? An hour? Longer? And she’d heard nothing, not a sound from any portion of the house. Maybe he was off cleaning his guns. “Ugh!”
Doubling over, she yanked a pillow, pulling it to her face. The damn thing had his scent. His scent. Cutter, her protector. The man she’d… No. She wasn’t going down this road again. She was over caring for anyone. She would learn to protect herself and follow her own path. Whatever that was going to entail.
Tap. Tap.
She bristled when she heard the light knock on the door. “Yes?”
“Can we talk?”
Hearing his voice was another cut, a knife staked into her heart. Sniffing, she sat up and glared at him. Damn. He was so handsome, so strong, as if no one could ever get to him. But she noticed a difference, a quiet reflection in his eyes, his demeanor. “I think you’ve said enough.”
Cutter inhaled, remaining in the doorway. “You were right. I haven’t been entirely honest with you.”
She snickered and pulled the pillow against her chest. “Okay. Fine. What do you need to tell me?”
He walked just inside, leaning against the wall. “Stacy. What happened with her was mostly my fault. I allowed her to get too close and I failed my mission.”
“You already told me that.”
“But there’s more.”
Jasmine wanted to push him away, to say his story had no merit, but she needed to know the truth, if for no other reason than closure. “What? You had a baby with her? You were secretly married? What?”
He gave her a waning smile. “I was sent to prison, convicted of treason.”
“What?” Sliding the pillow aside, she sat up straight. “I don’t understand.”
Shrugging, he ventured in another two feet. “It’s true. The government felt I compromised the mission, potentially allowing top-secret documents to be taken and used by the enemy. After the mission ended, I was court marshalled, tried and convicted.” His eyes darted back and forth.