Reciprocity

by K. I. Lynn

  Instead, I squashed both feelings and aimed for calm obliviousness. My act fooled him because he was so trapped in his own anxiety.

  When we arrived at the office, I pasted on a smile and wrapped my arms around his arm. “What should we do this weekend?”

  Rule one—keep smiling and upbeat. Rule two—always talk about the future, no matter how close.

  He swallowed. “I was thinking we could go for a drive. Maybe get away.”

  “That would be fun.” I smiled, trying not to let on I knew the double meaning in his words.

  The kiss as we separated for our own offices held an edge as they all did of late—passion—like it would be the last.

  “I’ll see you later, Honeybear. Love you.”

  “Love you.” I gave him another soft kiss before he turned and headed down the hall.

  When I sat at my desk, I leaned forward and covered my face, trying to gather myself. I pulled my phone out and opened up the email app—something I couldn’t do with Nathan around.

  “Shit.” Another one popped up, sent at three that morning—surveillance shots with a time stamp. It was from the same address the other three had come from, each with a photo of Nathan and me coming and going. They’d been coming in for weeks. Marconi’s guys knew our schedule.

  I marked it as unread and closed out of the app—I didn’t want Nathan to know I was reading his email. He kept me in the dark for my safety, but I wasn’t going to stay there. He was my husband, my life, and I wasn’t going to let them surprise me—surprise us.

  “Morning!” Owen’s smile helped to calm me, his happiness infectious.

  “Good morning.”

  He set his bag down and took off his jacket—it was unseasonably cool.

  “Brrr.” He shook off the cold. “It’s a hot coffee kind of morning. Want some?”

  I smiled up at him. “That would be great. Thanks.”

  “No problem, partner.”

  The moment he was out the door, I picked up the burner phone Noah bought a month ago and dialed the number I’d called every day for the past few months—Noah’s own burner phone. I peered out the door, keeping a lookout for anyone coming.

  “Hello?”

  “How’s it looking?”

  There was a pause, then a sigh on the other end—a very bad sign. Usually he had little to report, and it was mostly the changing of guard. A prickling sensation moved across my skin.

  “Lila, it’s time to consider leaving.”

  My heart stopped, my body going cold. “What’s happening?”

  “I don’t know, but it’s not good.”

  I swept a hand over my face, unable to keep the façade up, shaking like I was going to come undone.

  “Did you get another gun yet?”

  I nodded, not that he could see. “It’s in my purse.”

  “Does he know?”

  “No.” My voice broke.

  “Are you going to tell him?”

  Tears welled in my eyes. “Not right now.”

  “You need to, because if you don’t, I will.” The low tone in his voice told me how serious he was.

  Everything was spiraling out of control.

  I popped another pill, hoping it would calm me before I broke out into a full-blown panic attack. My hand gripped the edge of the sink harder, trying to suppress everything.

  Dr. Morgenson didn’t like the state either of us was in, or upping both our dosages so we could make it through the day. It was an unfortunate necessity. Even he knew therapy wasn’t going to help us, and the drugs would help get us through the days ahead…however many there were left.

  The reflection in the mirror hardly resembled me. Maybe it was the florescent lighting of the office’s restroom, but the terror clawing at my insides looked like it found an outlet.

  My eyes sealed tight as I fought to gain control. Deep, even breaths helped, but they still couldn’t stop the shaking. I let out a harsh breath and looked down at the sink, at the phone that sat there, and the message from Noah that stared back at me.

  Vincent Marconi is on his way here.

  I bent over further as a dry heave ripped its way through me.

  What were we going to do?

  The door swung open, startling me, and Caroline stepped in. She stopped as soon as she saw me, her eyes widening. Her course changed from the stall to me.

  “What’s wrong?” She stopped in front of me, worry filling her face.

  Tears filled my eyes, and I picked up the phone and handed it to her.

  “Did you get a new phone?” She was confused as she searched for the button to light up the screen. Her eyes scanned it, and she gasped as it registered. “Lila?”

  “It’s a burner phone.”

  “Burner phone? What the hell? Are you a criminal now?”

  I shook my head. “No. With them watching us, I was sure they were monitoring our phones as well. Noah picked this one up for me, and he’s the only one that has the number. He’s been keeping me up to date on the things Nate keeps from me.”

  “Jesus Christ… I… Does this mean what I think it means?”

  I nodded.

  Her brow scrunched. “What do you mean by ‘keeps from you’?”

  I shook my head and let out a strangled chuckle. “You know him. He wants to protect me, keep me calm, so he takes the burden on himself and doesn’t tell me everything.”

  “And here you are hiding a phone from him. Double standard much?”

  “Because I have to keep him calm.” My face scrunched up and my arms wrapped around my waist. “He’s so far gone. Worse than when we met.”

  She sighed. “Because it’s happening again.”

  I nodded. “He swings between destructive anger, depression, extreme anxiety, and hard passion in a span of five minutes.”

  She pulled her arms up and matched my stance. “Fuck. I didn’t even notice he was that messed up.”

  “He’s not as bad at the office and can hide it better here.”

  “What are you going to do? If he’s coming, you’re running…right?”

  I sighed. “I don’t know. Running isn’t going to help. They’ll find us.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Where would we go?”

  She threw her arms up in the air. “Anywhere! Just go. Leave.”

  I sighed. My brain whirled around all the things we would need to do. What was worse was that I didn’t even believe myself when I thought it could be done.

  The morning was shit, and the afternoon wasn’t looking any better, especially when Owen came back from the break room with empty cups. At least the meds I took were helping and the tightness in my chest had eased.

  “Let’s go get some coffee,” Nathan called from the door, startling me.

  Shit.

  I forced a smile, hiding the festering news as I looked up from the file I’d been buried in, watching him as he strode in. “A break?” I turned in my chair to face him as he walked around my desk.

  He nodded. “The coffee machine is broken, so I thought I could pull you away and take a break with my wife.”

  I quirked a brow at him. “You of all people should know we don’t take breaks.”

  “Yeah, but, as I said, there’s no coffee. How are you going to get your caffeine fix?”

  I pursed my lips. He was right—I’d go into withdrawal.

  We headed out, promising to bring back one for Owen, and walked the few blocks to the coffee shop.

  Nathan’s smile was forced as he looked down at me. My smile was forced as well. We were both keeping things from each other, and more than just the anxiety.

  “So, do I get some special cream for my coffee today?” My attempt at banter sounded like I was trying too hard to my own ears, but his lip twitched. It may have been a poor go, but it did its job of giving levity to the air around us.

  “I’m sure we could arrange that.” His arm wrapped around me, holding me close as we walked.

  He tried not to be obvio
us, but I caught his gaze moving around, looking for them. I pulled myself tighter into him, knowing time was a precious commodity.

  There was a small line when we entered, and I decided to forgo my usual regular coffee and go for something sweeter—a white mocha. Nathan paid, and we moved down to wait. His ring tone blared from his pocket, and he pulled his phone out, his brow scrunching as he looked down at the screen.

  “Sorry, I have to take this.” His lips pressed against my forehead, then he turned and headed for the door, putting the phone up to his ear.

  His back was to me as I stared out the window at him. He’d been so stressed lately. Nightmares, anxiety, anger. Every day he got closer to snapping, and I wondered when it would come, or if the Marconi would get us first. In light of my text from Noah, I knew the answer.

  I blew out a breath and turned back to the counter to grab our drinks along with a carrier. My cheeks heated as I set them down to add the creamer to Owen’s. Nathan’s kinky stunt made me blush every time I’d gotten a coffee since then.

  Once completed, I grabbed the cups and headed toward the door, but he was missing.

  My heart stopped, and everything began to move in slow motion.

  The carrier slipped from my hands, but I was already racing out the door, not caring that the hot liquid splashed on me as they hit the floor.

  Panic gripped me as my vision narrowed in on him. His eyes were wide, searching around while his hands shook and his breath came out in clipped pants, face flush with anger. The phone that had once been in his hand was shattered on the ground—the glass cracked, the back popped off, and the battery lying a foot away.

  People were staring at him with whispered words, wondering what was going on. There was an officer approaching, and I quickened my pace to his side.

  “Nathan, what’s wrong?”

  His angry eyes snapped to mine, then he wrapped his arms around me, turning us so that his back was to the street.

  “I’ll protect you.”

  “From what? Baby, what happened?”

  “I’ll protect you.”

  “You’re scaring me. What aren’t you saying?”

  His jaw was clenched tight and he cursed when he looked down at his phone before bending over to pick up the pieces.

  “We need to go.” He grabbed my arm and took off at a brisk pace that I was almost unable to keep up with.

  I stumbled more than once, trying to keep up while wearing heels. “Where are we going?”

  “Anywhere but here.” He shook his head, cursing under his breath.

  I tugged back on my arm, yanking it free. He turned, annoyed, and reached for me again.

  “No! What happened? Who called you?”

  His face scrunched. “Noah called. Tom Preston was shot at lunch.”

  I gasped. “Is he okay?”

  “He’s alive, for now.”

  Stunned silence took hold. What were we going to do?

  “Give me your phone.”

  “What?”

  “I have to call Jack.”

  I handed it over and got lost in my thoughts as he talked to Jack and our pace picked back up. I didn’t understand before, when we met, when I was told, my own naiveté clouding everything. It wasn’t just Nathan they were after. Everyone involved was marked.

  A chill moved down my spine. Would they ever stop? I knew the answer—it was clear as day.

  When we were all dead.

  CHAPTER 25

  Nathan was silent, his grip on my hand tight on the walk back to the office. It all began to settle in that we’d reached the finale. My chest clenched and I leaned into him as we rode the elevator up.

  He refused to let go of me. The office exploded in murmurs—hushed whispers, scared faces, and pointed fingers.

  Nathan stopped mid-step and let go of my hand, reaching across my body instead and gripping my arm. It was too tight, panicked. I looked up, and in front of his office door stood a figure.

  The man had slick-backed, midnight black hair, deep age lines carved into his clean-shaven face. He had to be at least sixty, if not seventy. The black suit he wore was not off the rack and probably cost a small fortune.

  Nathan positioned himself in front of me, blocking me from the stranger, but I could still see. The man’s stance screamed elite—legs apart, spine straight, hands in his pockets. He radiated arrogance as his cold eyes surveyed me with an odd curiosity. Our eyes met and his lip twitched, and what looked like a combination of cruelty and excitement flashed.

  A shiver ran through me, and my heart began to hammer in my chest. My flight response screamed in terror, pulsing the danger signal through every cell.

  I’d never seen a picture of him, but I was certain the man in front of us was Vincent Marconi himself.

  Nathan tensed, his muscles strained tight and shaking with suppressed energy. “Stop looking at her.” The edge in his tone as he snapped surprised me. “What do you want?”

  The anger-filled, intense feeling emanating from Nathan was suffocating. I’d seen him angry before, but the strength was crushing me—a whole new level of emotion.

  Vincent’s lips curled up, the cruelty I’d seen before shining through in his false, mocking show. “Ah, Nathan, what a pleasure it is to see you again.”

  “Vincent,” Nathan growled. “What can I do for you?”

  My airway restricted as my theory was confirmed. The floor began to fall away and the world slipped as my knees weakened. I could barely stand from the weight of it all.

  “I just came by to see how you were doing after that horrible accident you were in a few years ago.” His fake concern dripped from his voice. “Terrible, really, to be filled with so much titanium and other metals to hold your shattered body together.”

  I grabbed onto the back of Nathan’s jacket, fisting it, anchoring me to him. The man who’d broken him stood in front of us, wanting to do it all again.

  His body hardened even more—a rock bracing for the coming wave. “As you can clearly see, I’m getting by.”

  “And your poor, poor wife. Pregnant, wasn’t she? To lose all of your family. Tragic, really. Rumor has it you have remarried.” Vincent’s gaze flickered back to me.

  I locked my knees, fighting to stay strong and not let him see my weakness.

  With that comment, Nathan’s hand reached out and pushed me so he was standing fully in front of me.

  “Is that her?” Vincent asked, fake curiosity dripping from his tone.

  Nathan’s arm shook as I peeked to look around his shoulder again.

  “Hello, Mrs. Thorne, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” Vincent extended his hand.

  His whole demeanor and the conversation didn’t sit well with me, and the prospect of touching him sent chills through my body. I leaned into Nathan for support.

  “She has nothing to do with this. Leave her alone.”

  Vincent gave Nathan that smile again. “Nathan, don’t be rude. I only stopped by today to see how you were doing after all this time. Nothing more.” Vincent sighed, as if put off. “However, I see you remain as arrogant and rude as you always were. Therefore, I’ll take my leave.” He nodded at me, a strange hunger as he looked me over. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Mrs. Thorne.”

  His stance, his tone, his presence was a threat.

  Nathan’s hands were balled into tight fists, shaking as a low growl vibrated through him.

  Vincent chuckled before giving his final goodbye and sauntering down the hall away from us. We both stared after him, as did the entire office. The moment the elevator doors closed and he was gone, Nathan yanked on my arm, moving us down the hall.

  “Get your purse.”

  “What?”

  His jaw twitched. “We’re leaving. We’re not staying here.”

  The tension was still high, his grip tight, barely letting me get my things before pulling me down the hall. All eyes were on us as we made our way to the elevators, and their own fear could be seen—their pity.

&nbs
p; Nathan sped through the streets on the way home, his eyes constantly checking the mirrors to see if anyone was following us. I’d never seen him so shaken, but Vincent Marconi’s visit had him on a whole new level of paranoid and freaking out. When we arrived home, he quickly ushered us to the elevator. As soon as we were in the door, he was running to the bedroom.

  When I caught up, he was pulling our suitcases down from the closet and throwing them on the bed. The pace as he moved back and forth from the dresser, the closet, and the bed, depositing clothes as he went, was frightening.

  “What are you doing?”

  “We’re going. Leaving now.”

  I shook my head. “We can’t just leave.”

  “Yes, we can, and we are.” He pulled open the dresser, grabbing handfuls of stuff, paying no attention to what it was. “It’s the only way I can protect you.”

  I shook my head and set my hands on my hips, digging my heels into the floor. “There has to be another way.”

  “Unless Vincent Marconi drops dead, there isn’t.”

  “It could happen.”

  His jaw flexed, teeth mashing together. “I’m not taking a chance on if.”

  “Nate, we need to form a plan. We can’t just take off.”

  “Damn it! Why won’t you fucking listen to me?”

  “Because you’re being unreasonable.” My fingers flexed against my hips.

  “No, I’m not.” The volume of his voice increased, almost to the point of yelling. His eyes hardened. “I’ve warned you about my past.”

  “You’re just going to leave your family?”

  His motions halted. He stood stone still for a moment, then grabbed my phone from his pocket and dialed a number.

  “Mom, I need you to pack your bags… The Marconi… Mom, please don’t argue.”

  I snatched the phone from his hands. “Sarah, we’ll call you back.”

  I forced down my own anxiety as I stared at my husband’s frantic behavior.

  “I’ll call Darren, you work on calming him.” The worry in her voice could be heard

  I nodded, not that she could see. “Talk to you soon.”

  I hung up and walked over to him. He was shaking violently as he stuffed clothing into the cases.