Identity Crisis (Blood Brothers #4)

by Manda Mellett

  “So, she was stopped before she could talk?” That alone makes me think there was potentially important information she could have told us. But on the other hand, it’s good news she’s no longer able to implicate Nessa in any way. That alone makes me feel a weight’s been lifted from my shoulders.

  His eyes carefully scanning me, Ben must see some of the stress draining from my face. He nods, once. “Yes, it means Van is safe.”

  “I know I shouldn’t say this, Ben, but that’s the thing that matters most to me.” I’m still trying to digest the news.

  Ben flicks worried eyes at Devil, before commenting, “I think we might have to thank Kadar.”

  “Thank Kadar? Why would he want to stop her talking?” I can’t see what benefit there is for the emir; surely he had more to gain from getting her to speak rather than shutting her up.

  A strange, calculating look from Ben, “Sean, this can go no further. Devil and I are pretty certain what happened, but this stays between us, okay?”

  I nod, dipping my head up and down slowly.

  “Okay, Kadar’s a Dom. He’s protective toward women.”

  Devil leans forward and takes over, “There was a risk she’d get a message out to the wrong people, however well she was guarded. Kadar is only too well aware how easily betrayal can be bought. Part of the fighting between the CIA, the SIS and any of the other acronyms involved was where she’d be taken to be interrogated. Once out of Amahad she was out of Kadar’s, and our, control.”

  It falls into place, “Kadar acted so Nessa’s part could never be exposed.” The emir’s last personal assistant had sold Zoe out for money. And that resulted in both of us being kidnapped, and me being shot. Yes, Kadar knows better than most how easily any man can be turned.

  With a grin, much like the one a proud father would give his son, Ben agrees, “At the risk of losing information to protect his country, yes.”

  It was the action of a Dom protecting a sub. But Nessa wasn’t his sub. And as emir, Kadar’s first duty was to his country. Something about their supposition doesn’t sit well with me. I put my head in my hands, rubbing my temples before glancing back up, “Kadar got the information he needed first. And will be keeping that close. Whatever Danielle knew, al-Fahri will think died with her.”

  Devil laughs, and smacks his hand on the table, “I like him, Ben.”

  Obviously, I’m thinking along the same lines as they are. “Where does this leave us? What do we do now?”

  “Nothing,” Ben asserts. “It makes sense Kadar might have used some of his countries extreme interrogation measures to get her to spill her knowledge, but we won’t go into that. We’ll leave it in the realm of the theoretical for now. We don’t know what Kadar found out, or for sure that it was anything. If we need to know, I expect we’ll be the first on his list to call.”

  “We sit tight,” Devil confirms. “And wait. But your girl is in the clear.”

  Again, I nod and then start, “Ben, Devil. Nessa’s not my girl.” Not yet, anyway. Not until I can convince her.

  “Sean, I can read you. She might not have accepted it yet, but you certainly want her to be. You’re good together, and it’s time for you to settle down. But she’s running scared.”

  Focusing on Ben once more, I remember he knows something of her situation. And fuck it, he’s guessed mine. Then a suspicion dawns on me, “You threw us together on purpose, didn’t you? Shit, Ben, why the hell did you put her through it? Sending her off with me and a baby? You must have known how that would freak her out.”

  He looks unrepentant, “She wanted to work in the field. And the opportunity came up.” He sighs, “Of course, I didn’t know I was sending her into danger at the time. None of us knew who Danielle was, or what she was involved in.” He taps his fingers on the table, “Sean, you’re a Dom, she’s a sub.”

  “I’m a switch.” I say it, even though I know I’m not anymore. I won’t be submitting again.

  But Ben knows me too well. “No, Sean. You haven’t been that for a very long time.” He looks sad, “What happened with Hatcher hit you hard. Since then you’ve been drifting, unable to find yourself.”

  “So you set me up?”

  Now it’s his turn to shrug and then throws me a wicked grin, “She couldn’t hide her attraction to you, and I always suspected you just needed a push in her direction. It worked, didn’t it?”

  I can’t, don’t want to refute that. What’s the point in arguing when it’s Nessa I want? But it’s not a fait accompli as he seems to think. “She’s not convinced.”

  “Well, convince her.” It’s easy for him to say. He allows a moment’s silence while I digest what he’s said. And I recognise he’s given me an opening. If I’m her Dom, there’s something I can do to keep her safe.

  “She can’t work in the field again,” I begin, “She’s a danger to herself, and to others. In the office, she’s indispensable, she’s focused, and her skills are beyond anyone else’s. Out on a case, she’s all over the place.”

  “That’s not your decision, Sean.”

  “You’ve just told me I’m her Dom. In which case, it’s my responsibility to watch out for her and keep her safe.”

  “And you will,” Devil puts in. “But first, there’s another thing we wanted to talk to you about.”

  Ben slides a manila folder out of his drawer, and my eyes narrow as I recognise it. It’s my medical report. “You went to find the mother of your child. It should have been a straightforward enough case, keeping two of my operatives occupied but without any risk involved.” He looks apologetic, “I’m sorry it didn’t turn out that way.”

  “We didn’t want to have this conversation with you, Sean. But we can’t avoid it. I think even you know that.”

  Suddenly the crease on my trousers seems fascinating; I pluck an imaginary speck of fluff off the material. I’d hoped this day would never come. But, being a Dom also means understanding yourself, admitting your weaknesses and knowing your flaws. And I know exactly what they are going to say. They intend to pull me from active duty. Permanently.

  “Do we need to say the words?”

  Glaring at the folder in Ben’s hands with an intensity as if I could make it burst into flames, knowing I don’t want him to open it and read out what it says there. It’s best for me to take the man’s way out. Inhaling deeply, I put my back straight and look across at the man who’s been my boss, my partner and my friend since I left the SAS. Then, sighing, I force my voice to be strong, “You’re asking for my resignation.”

  “Fuck, no.” Both men answer me, equally surprised expressions on their faces.

  “I’m not going to be fit enough to resume active duty.” At last, I admit that despite everything I’ve done to prove the doctor’s wrong, I’m never going to have full mobility in my leg again.

  “We can’t have you working as a CPO, Sean.”

  Much as I want to, and would have done before my self-analysis over the past few days, I can’t argue with Ben. My legs used to be my weapons. And who would want to employ a bodyguard who’s not fully functional? Who can’t run without pain or risking their leg giving way? There are some jobs than even the disability discrimination act has to concede are restricted to the non-disabled.

  “That’s the other reason I’m here,” this from Devil. “I’ve been working alone, as you know, but now I’d like to set up a team back here at base to support me. Highly secret work, Sean, but I need the best minds. You and Van are just who I’m looking for.” He holds up his hand before I can ask the myriad of questions his suggestions bring to mind, “You’ll be mainly based here, but on call to provide your expertise anywhere I need you. You’ll need to keep up with your physical training, as some of the situations I deal with can be dangerous. You’ll be fit enough for what I’ll want you to do. So, what do you say?”

  As I’d expected them to sack me, the alternative he’s suggesting is a lifeline. I may not know what’s involved, but the idea intrigues me. And bei
ng based here, I can start to build a life around Mollie.

  I don’t even need to take time to think about it. “I might be getting involved with the very devil,” I say with a grin as a glow radiates from inside and the fear I was about to be unemployed recedes, “But yes, I’m in.”

  Devil reaches over and shakes my hand, “Good to have you onboard, Sean.”

  “Now,” Ben says, his shrewd eyes looking as though he’s scheming, “We’ve just got to convince Van. And I’ve got some suggestions as to how we go about that.”

  Chapter 37

  Vanessa

  At least the time difference between Amahad and England let me have a lie in this morning, but for once I don’t appreciate it. My mind is too busy buzzing. I’m unable to stop worrying about Danielle opening her mouth and telling all and sundry about me shooting Nasir al-Fahri. Every creak of the house makes me worried someone is already coming after me.

  I spend the early morning hours listing the potential weapons I have lying around the house and come up with a pitifully short list. The knives in my butcher’s block are about my best option. Great, if the assassin comes in through the back door. And then again, would I actually be able to stick a blade into someone? Shooting a gun had been bad enough. Every time I close my eyes, I see the bodies falling, and know I am responsible for their deaths. Even though the rational side of me says I’d done what I had to, to protect the lives of myself and Mollie, it still sickens me that I’d been left with no other option. Although, my disgust at the action I was forced to take is not sufficient to prefer that it been me,rather than them.

  And the other reason for my insomnia is predictably Sean. Had I been right to reject him? Was I right to dismiss him, to doubt the sincerity of his feelings for me? And Mollie, she might not be mine, but my arms feel so empty today. Had I made the wrong decision last night? Might Sean have come to his senses and realised I was right? Back in England, he’ll have no need for me.

  When the clock tells me it’s time to get going for my meeting with Ben this morning I’m relieved. My house is spotless, getting up at five o’clock with nothing better to do will help with that. The toilet bowl’s scrubbed, the bathroom and kitchen are gleaming, and I’ve even managed to get the dust off my collection of books. But now it’s time to face the music.

  Has Sean written a report? Will Ben overlook my deficiencies and put it down to it being only my first time working out of the office? Will he be assigning me to another case? Do I still want to work in the field, exposing myself to danger again? And if Ben is going to send me out again, will I still be partnered with Sean?

  Oh God, I hope so!

  Oh, Jesus, I hope not! Not if he’s come to understand it was the horror of the past week that’s making him act so out of character.

  Slamming my front door shut as I leave the house I slap the heel of my hand against my forehead. I don’t bloody know what to do or what I want. In my work or personal life. I’m in no more certain frame of mind when I walk along the corridor at the allotted time and knock on Ben’s door. I can hear male voices talking inside, and entering I find not only Ben but my other boss, Jon.

  “Er, should I come back later?”

  Ben dismisses my suggestion, and waves me in, “No, we both want to talk to you. Come in, sit down, Van.”

  As he calls me Van it hits me that I’ve come to prefer the derivation of my name that Sean uses. It’s more feminine for a start. Which pulls me up. Why would I want to be considered feminine in a work environment? It shouldn’t make any difference, and I’ve always preferred to be treated like one of the men.

  Jon leans forward, “Van, we’ve got good news.”

  As he continues to explain, my jaw drops as I hear the welcome, but also disturbing news that Danielle won’t ever be able to tell any tales about me. Reassured of my safety, I probably forget to ask the questions I should, but accept their explanation that in the confusion the culprit couldn’t be identified.

  When they’ve told me that revelation and allowed me a moment to absorb it, Ben’s fingers begin to drum on a sheaf of white paper in front of him, drawing my eyes to him, and when I see his expression my heart sinks. Then he confirms I’m right to have my suspicions, “I asked Sean for a report on your suitability for working as one of our operatives, Van. As I’m sure you’ll have expected. It’s standard procedure when sending someone out for the first time.”

  “I cocked up.” I decide to come clean.

  Looking at me sharply, Ben refutes my self-accusation, “You saved yourself, and the baby. You shot five men. You got yourself out of there. I don’t define that as a complete cock-up.”

  Am I going to get away with it?

  “But,” as Ben resumes I see he hasn’t finished yet, “You did make a number of errors that make us,” he gestures between Jon and himself, “Concerned about your suitability to work as a Close Protection Officer.”

  Here it comes, “You’re taking me off CPO work.” I decide I’d rather say it myself.

  Jon’s shaking his head, “No, we’re leaving that decision completely to you.”

  What? Screwing up my eyes, I’m puzzled. What could they mean? They either thought I could do the job or I couldn’t. “You’re giving me another chance?”

  “No.” Ben draws my attention back to him, “We’re giving you twenty-four hours to come back and tell us your decision as to what you want to do.”

  As my eyes flit from one to the other, not quite certain what’s going on, Jon stands and kicks away his chair and leans against the desk, his back toward his partner. He scrutinises me, and I start to wilt under his examination. When he sees me growing uncomfortable, he takes pity on me, “You’ve applied for membership at Club Tiacapan,” he starts.

  My hand covers my face as I smother my gasp. Of all the things I’d thought he might say, I didn’t expect him to refer to that.

  “You are aware that I co-own the club, along with Sheikh Jasim Kassis and Jason Deville?”

  I nod. A discussion about a BDSM club with my two bosses is sending the blood rushing to my cheeks, and I shift in my seat, feeling decidedly awkward.

  Jon gives me another intense look, “You’ll also be aware that Ben and some your colleagues are also members of the club.”

  My sense of insecurity makes me spit out, “Are you saying I can’t join?”

  “Not at all,” he snorts as though I’ve said something amusing, “I just want to make sure you know what you are getting into.”

  “It’s a BDSM club,” I shrug, remembering the one I went to with Sean, “I know what to expect.”

  “Hmm,” he looks thoughtful, “I wonder if you’ve properly thought this through. I’m aware from Sean that you’ve been to a similar place, though I use the word similar lightly, and may have picked up some things. But Ben and I both play at Tiacapan, and the likelihood is that we’ll be there at the same time as you. And if your Dom wants to get you naked―and he’d be a pretty piss-poor Dom if he allowed you to be fully clothed at all times―the chances are that myself, Ben and the rest of your colleagues will see you too. We can’t make an exception for you.”

  I hadn’t thought about that part. Taken aback I think fast, “Sean will be my Dom.” Well at least, I’m hoping he’ll still want to honour the contract we’d drawn up. I don’t miss the look that passes between Jon and Ben or the nods they exchange; it looks like I’ve fallen into some sort of trap.

  Then Jon looks back at me sternly, “Only for a month, or that’s what it says on your contract.”

  “You’ve seen that?”

  “I do own the club.” Shit, he must have seen my limits list too. This conversation is way past embarrassing!

  “Sean and I might agree to extend the contract.”

  “Hmm, but what happens afterwards?” Jon puts a finger to his chin, “As the contract states you and Sean will be keeping your relationship entirely sexual and restricted to the club, it shouldn’t make any difference to your working relationship.
When your month is up you might be looking for another Dom. Of course, I’m exclusive with Mia, but it’s possible Ben might offer to top you, or Ryan or Seth. You’ve obviously thought about this and compartmentalise your play in that…”

  “No!” The denial is drawn out of me in horror at the thought of being with anyone but Sean, even another experienced Dom. It’s him I want, and nobody else.

  “No?” Ben repeats me, his eyebrows raised.

  I look from one to the other in shock, “I only want to play with Sean.” Jon nods and one side of his mouth turns up in a small satisfied smile, “I thought it was that way.”

  I glance down at my hands, knowing I’ve betrayed myself.

  “Van, you do remember I asked you to give me your answer in twenty-four hours, don’t you?”

  Without looking up, I nod.

  “If I was your Dom, I would want to take you to task for the trouble and worry you’ve caused him.”

  Glancing up sharply I defend myself, “I didn’t ask to be abducted, and I killed our kidnappers and saved Mollie.”

  “Oh, Vanessa,” Jon sighs, “Your catalogue of failures started long before that, didn’t they?”

  My cheeks grow warm as I realise he’s right, and once again I can’t meet their eyes.

  “As your Dom, Vanessa, I would think your behaviour warranted a punishment, so you didn’t repeat your mistakes in future,” Jon pronounces, his voice stern.

  Punishment?

  “I think we can safely leave the rest to Sean, Jon. But we’ll see you at the club tonight. We’ll all see you at the club.”

  “And we’ll see you here with your answer tomorrow. Go home for the rest of the day, Van. Sean’s waiting for you outside.”

  Dismissed, I automatically rise to my feet and am halfway to the door before my feet stop. They’ll ALL see me in the club tonight? Sean’s waiting for me outside? What the hell is going on? I want to turn to ask them, but I’m not quite sure what to ask, and part of me doesn’t want to extend such a disturbing conversation. Instead, I start moving again, leaving the office in a state of bemusement. Part of me is pleased to find Sean’s not there, leaning against the wall waiting for me. Huh, they were wrong about that.