Stalked by the Past: An FBI Flashback Novel. (An FBI Romance Thriller Book 17)

by Morgan Kelley

  She tried to relax.

  As Gabe was about to say something, his desk com buzzed to let him know he had company.

  “Mr. Rothschild, you have an agent here.”

  “Who?” he asked.

  “Freaking Santa Claus,” Elizabeth said in the background. “You told me to check in, and I’m here to do it.”

  Livy tensed.

  He released the button on the intercom so she wouldn’t hear the rest of their conversation.

  “Livy.”

  “I don’t want to see her.”

  “You can’t keep doing this, Livy. She’s our family. She was so important before that case.”

  “Please.”

  He didn’t want to upset his wife. He didn’t want to make her more stressed.

  “Okay, Livy.” He pushed the intercom button. “Elizabeth, I’m in the middle of an important meeting. I’ll have to find you later. I’m sorry.”

  It was clear she took over the intercom. “I’m heading to my desk to do some searches, and then I’m heading home for the night. I have some porn to watch and some files to study.”

  He prayed she was kidding.

  “I’ll call you later.”

  “Okay, boss man. I’m out.”

  The intercom went silent.

  “Thank you.”

  “I mean it, Livy. We can’t keep avoiding her. You need to talk to her.” Gabe knew his wife had no clue what Elizabeth had done for her.

  If she did…

  Yeah, Gabe was afraid his wife would turn her in. It was sad, but Livy was pissed, and neither of them wanted to risk that happening. Once the cat was out of the bag, it could never be shoved back inside.

  As far as she was concerned, Elizabeth didn’t get there in time.

  It was total BS, but he was protecting someone he loved.

  Hell!

  He was protecting both of them.

  “Can you walk me down to the car?” she asked. “I don’t know if I can make it on my own. Maybe I should have had security come up. I figured I was safe,” Livy stated.

  She couldn’t look him in the eyes.

  “I’ll carry you down if that’s what you need, Olivia. I’ll carry you for the rest of my life.”

  She wanted to weep.

  Livy was ashamed of how she’d behaved the last year, and how she’d taken out all her anger on Elizabeth. She made a mental note to beg for her forgiveness once this baby was born.

  It couldn’t be until then. She needed to see Gabe with the baby to make sure he wasn’t going to walk away. He’d said he was there for the long haul, but that was her real fear.

  What if he changed his mind?

  What if he looked at the child they’d kept and he couldn’t stand the sight of her?

  What if she couldn’t either?

  Livy knew she needed time. She needed to get through the birth, and then she’d handle the rest.

  She promised.

  Chapter Three

  S he didn’t hang out at her desk for very long. She never did. Whenever she was in the Hoover building, she’d either be with Gabe or in the morgue. They were the only two places she was safe.

  Not safe from killers.

  No.

  Safe from the assholes who rode her tail over that one ‘botched’ case.

  Honestly, she’d rather be with the dead. They didn’t judge her.

  Since that fateful day, she was tortured nonstop. The FBI bullies were prone to making her life miserable, so she got away from them any chance she got.

  While at her desk, she did her search. Clayton Frost wasn’t in the computer. She wasn’t shocked. If he was a pimp, he wasn’t going to use his real name.

  That told her two things.

  She was on the right track, and she was hitting a wall. This was going to take a whole lot of ingenuity, and she knew she was going to have to work for it.

  So, she’d sleep on it and go from there. In the morning, she was heading to Metro. She needed to pull a few favors, and talk to a few friends. Elizabeth had an angle.

  Heading out of the building, she was thinking about the case, the three women, and the killer. It helped a great deal. She could block out the stares, the looks, and the comments.

  Today, she was going to focus on the dead.

  She could help them.

  Hopefully.

  All the way home, she worked the case over and over in her mind. What did three hookers, all different ethnicities, have in common?

  Was there something?

  Was this random?

  Why did he take the last woman’s face and eyes?

  It was going to drive her insane until she figured it out. At least it kept her busy through the DC traffic.

  When Elizabeth got home, she grabbed her gear and packed a quick bag. She’d need a few things before heading toward Chris’s place. She’d likely crash there for the night, since they were going to be busy.

  It was going to be a late one.

  There were videos to watch, takeout to consume, and a case to talk about. She was curious how his first day with the newbie went, and she wanted all the dirt.

  All she could hope was they stayed out of trouble. Gabe would shit a brick if they burned the place down. While she wasn’t their boss, Elizabeth knew whose head would roll if they got out of control on her watch.

  It would definitely be hers.

  Grabbing a shirt to sleep in, some clothes for the morning, and her things, she headed out. When they’d gone hunting for a place for Chris, he wanted to be close by her. She didn’t mind at all. It made her life so much easier.

  Plus, she loved their relationship.

  It was wonderful having someone she could trust with her life and her heart. Chris would never hurt her. They were thick as thieves, and they were genuinely good together.

  For the longest time, she’d pretended she wasn’t attracted to him, but it was a lie. Elizabeth liked smart men. There was something about a brain in a skull, and Chris had one.

  Plus, he was a good person.

  She was drawn to him, and she was curious what he was feeling. Elizabeth was normally one of those people who would come right out and say what she was feeling, but with Chris it felt wrong.

  She didn’t want to start something that would damage what they had. For now, she was content to be his best friend.

  Still…

  Smart men were hot.

  That was the sexiest thing about him. If they didn’t have to work together, she might be so inclined to see what could be between them, but she knew he was happy.

  Why rock the boat?

  Besides, if she looked back at her track record, it sucked. She couldn’t lose him. Elizabeth wasn’t willing to risk it for some roll in the hay.

  When she got to his door, she knocked. It didn’t take him long to open it.

  “Hey, honey! Takeout is ordered, and I have wine in the fridge for you or there’s beer.”

  “Well, that depends on what we’re having for dinner,” she stated, dropping her things on his foyer table. Chris’s brownstone was plush. While she was a public servant, he was rich by birth. He could get the bigger place, the nicer things, and all on a public servant’s salary.

  He deserved it.

  Chris dug in the dead all day. When you had to manhandle wormy spleens, you deserved the finer things in life.

  “I went with pizza.”

  “Then beer it is. We’ll save the wine for another night—maybe Chinese. Can I sleep over?”

  His heart skipped. He wanted to say something, but he was afraid to open his mouth.

  “You can always sleep over, honey.”

  She smiled at him.

  His pulse went wild. Chris knew he was screwed. He wanted her, he was tied up in knots, and mostly, he was worried about what he’d done.

  Chris wanted to run the ‘online dating’ thing by her, simply because she wouldn’t bullshit him. If it were a bad idea, she’d tell him.

  Elizabeth didn’t li
e.

  He loved that best about her.

  Well, that and her ass. It was spectacular, too, when she was wearing jeans or shorts.

  “Are you okay, Newton? You look frazzled. Was it a rough day at the office?”

  “I’m fine. Dinner should be here in a few minutes,” he offered.

  He’d lied to her. She felt it. When Chris wouldn’t look her in the eyes, he was trying to escape.

  She let it go.

  Everyone was entitled to their privacy.

  Instead, she changed the focus. Whatever it was, she couldn’t let it ruin her night.

  “You’re the best, Christopher,” she said, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

  He visibly relaxed.

  “So are you, honey,” he said, giving her hand a squeeze.

  Elizabeth loved these moments. With all the stress, it was calming to be with someone who loved you for you. They had this happiness, and that gave her peace.

  She wasn’t alone in the world.

  When Livy and Gabe bailed, Chris had stuck. She’d do anything for him. Christopher Leonard was valuable to her.

  He was priceless.

  Elizabeth didn’t think she’d make it through without him. Each day would be a constant reminder of what she’d lost.

  “Can I get changed?” she asked.

  “Your room is upstairs. Feel free, honey.”

  What he wanted to say was ‘stay in my room with me’, but he didn’t think that would go over well. There was a line between them, and already, he skirted over it at every opportunity. He was fantasizing about her, jerking off while daydreaming about her, and thinking inappropriate things all day long.

  He had to keep this cool.

  Only he didn’t know if he could.

  “So what are we going to do tonight?” he called up as he leaned against the railing downstairs, waiting for her.

  “We have some pizza to eat, we’ll talk about our day, and I’ll pop in a movie.”

  “Great! I love a movie.”

  That should help tame down his libido so he wouldn’t want to crawl all over her. Maybe it would be a flick where people were blown up.

  That would totally kill the sex mood.

  Chris relaxed.

  “Oh, you’ll love tonight’s movies, Chris,” she said, coming down the stairs.

  “Why? What did you get?”

  She started laughing.

  Immediately, he went on alert. Elizabeth only laughed like that when it was going to be sadistic.

  Shit.

  He braced for it.

  “I was searching Naima’s apartment, and Metro missed the camera she had pointing at her bed.”

  “Uh oh.”

  “Yep. You and I are watching people have sex. Don’t worry. There’s only about a million hours of fornication to go through, partner.”

  Well, holy fuck.

  What the hell was he supposed to do with this?

  This was not going to be good. Chris could barely keep his dick in check now, but toss in porn, beer, and Elizabeth curled against him on the couch?

  The universe hated his guts.

  He was going to be stuck on a couch with a beautiful woman while they watched people do what he wasn’t permitted to partake in with her.

  Great.

  “Uh, do you really want to do that?” he asked, as she reached the bottom stair.

  Elizabeth was barefoot, wearing a tiny pair of shorts, and an FBI t-shirt. It left nothing to his imagination, and he knew it. He’d fantasized a lot about her in that very outfit—and out of it.

  Why?

  WHY?

  The torture piled on.

  “Yeah, it’ll be fun. You know. We can laugh at the men trying to get off with the hooker.”

  When she turned, he saw her shoulder. There was an ugly bruise forming there.

  “Elizabeth! What happened to your arm?”

  She glanced over and shrugged. “My shoulder met a crowbar today when I went to talk to Bao Yu’s parents. The father thought I was coming for the rest of them. He doesn’t know she was killed as a hooker, so when they come for the bones…”

  He didn’t speak.

  “Chris?”

  “You could have been killed!”

  “Nah. I’m pretty spry. I saw it coming. It’s hard not to see a steel bar coming for your face. Bob and weave, my friend. Bob and weave.”

  He wanted to be sick.

  The visual in his head fueled him with rage. Before he could say more, the doorbell rang.

  Chris cut her off. “I’m buying you dinner. Before you say a word, stop!”

  She stared at him. What the hell was that? Chris never raised his voice to her.

  Ever.

  Something was bugging the hell out of him. Chris was stirred up like a hornets’ nest.

  “Um. Okay.”

  He stormed toward the door, pulled out his wallet, and paid the pizza guy. When he turned around, she was staring at him and hadn’t moved from where she’d been standing.

  “Did I do something to make you angry? Why are you acting all crazy?”

  That threw water on his fire.

  Chris didn’t want to upset her. This wasn’t about Elizabeth. She was behaving how she always did. Elizabeth LaRue was a force of nature, and he couldn’t expect anything less than that when it came to how she did her job.

  How was he supposed to articulate that he was scared shitless for her?

  “No, I’m sorry. You didn’t do anything.”

  He ignored the crazy part as he struggled to regain his control.

  “Maybe I should go home. If you’re not in the mood for company, I can go.” She went to go back upstairs.

  “Don’t. Please. I’m just having a rough day. I really need you to stay and keep me company.”

  She stared at him as if she was judging what to do. Her gut said leave. It was screaming for her to grab her shit and run for her own brownstone.

  He was bright red.

  He looked tense.

  Yeah, no. This was bad, and she knew it. Elizabeth wasn’t sticking around to be anyone’s whipping boy.

  “No, Chris. I’m going to go. I’ll grab my things and get out of your hair. I’ll see you at work tomorrow. Maybe we’re spending too much time together.”

  His heart dropped.

  Chris wanted to be sick. She hadn’t called him Christopher. This was his fear of crossing the line. Already, he was watching her slip away.

  He didn’t know how to behave with women. He wanted to protect her, but he knew she wasn’t his to pull that shit with either.

  Crap!

  Elizabeth didn’t say anything else.

  It was time to escape.

  He watched her walk away, and he wanted to weep. He didn’t mean to snap at her. He knew Elizabeth was still trying to overcome what Livy and Gabe had done to her.

  They’d abandoned her, and she had that look in her eyes. She was expecting it to happen again. So instead, she was leaving him.

  His heart ached.

  When she came down, she was toting her overnight bag. She slipped on her running shoes and grabbed her box of videos.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow. I hope you feel better in the morning,” she offered, as she headed toward the door.

  “Lyzee.”

  She didn’t look back.

  She couldn’t.

  Elizabeth was astute. Christopher Leonard needed space. She could tell. Instead of saying anything, she simply walked out of his place.

  Down the street.

  Around the corner.

  And right for her place.

  Chris watched until she was out of sight. His heart hurt. He’d really screwed this up. He had no right to snap at her. He knew she dealt with people treating her like shit all day.

  The agents.

  The citizens.

  The people who used to be her friends.

  He’d crossed the line.

  Chris headed into his living room, dropped the piz
za onto the table, and sat on his leather couch.

  Leaning back, he closed his eyes, and he felt like an asshole. He was upset because someone had hurt her. He could have lost her today, and she would have ended up in their morgue.

  Then he snarled at her.

  And he may have lost her anyway.

  He was a douchebag.

  And a really horrible friend.

  * * * E l i z a b e t h L a R u e * * *

  Damascus

  Hotel

  After they landed, he spent the evening getting his shit together. He didn’t want to do much, but the lure of his work was calling his name.

  As he sat there, profiling, he couldn’t help but stare out the big windows at the green land not far away.

  Here’s where he’d been from.

  He’d grown up there.

  He’d raised hell there.

  He’d left it all behind.

  Ethan Blackhawk hated it with everything in him. While he was there, he honestly thought about going to see his grandfather. The man was in his seventies, and he should probably have someone check up on him.

  Granted, he sent him money every month for his cabin upkeep, and to ensure that his quality of life was at a much higher level, but he couldn’t face him.

  He’d left in anger.

  On that fateful day, Ethan raged out of Damascus with one hundred bucks, a beat-up truck, and a dream. He’d made more money, he’d gotten his education, and now he had a good life—thanks to the FBI.

  Yes, he’d bailed on his family, his heritage, and his people. He was likely dead to Timothy. Still, there was that lure to go see him.

  He missed his grandfather.

  He was the only one he’d ever come back here for, and he knew it.

  Screw his father. The alcoholic asshole didn’t give a shit about him as a kid. He was so pathetic that he’d cheated on Ethan’s mother, and sired some bastard kid.

  That kid, his brother, he’d loved for so long as his blood, and he’d cheated with Ethan’s girlfriend. He’d betrayed him too.

  It must run in the family.

  Asshole by DNA.

  He was a hot mess the day his father’s sperm found his mother’s egg. Well, now he was back.

  He knew he should go see Timothy.

  He simply couldn’t do it. He wasn’t ready, and he wasn’t going to force himself. Instead, he’d grab some dinner, get to work, and focus on his job.