Fatal Fallout

by Lara Lacombe

  Even if that meant letting go and falling in love again.

  He reached up and gently ran his fingertips down Claire’s arm, hoping the touch would bring her back. She blinked up at him, a soft pink spreading across her cheeks. “Sorry,” she muttered, ducking her head. “I kind of spaced out there for a minute.”

  “Tell me about it?” He kept his voice soft, encouraging.

  “There’s not much to tell.” She shrugged, trying to dismiss the question. “I was adopted. I found out after my dad died that my mother had gone along with the adoption to make him happy. She never thought of me as ‘her’ child, and once Dad was gone, she saw me as a burden—a reminder of the husband she’d lost. When she remarried and had a child of her own, I went from being tolerated to being outright hated. I moved out the day I graduated high school and haven’t looked back.”

  Thomas felt his heart break for her and for the child she had been, grieving the loss of one parent while the other made her feel rejected and unloved.

  “My God,” he murmured, giving in to the impulse to pull her close and wrap his arms around her. “I can’t imagine what that was like for you.” In his line of work, he’d seen a lot of the horrible things people could do to each other, but no matter how many times he was exposed to it, he would never understand how a parent could treat a child so badly. More than that, he didn’t want to understand it. That kind of behavior went against the laws of nature, and he hoped he never became desensitized to the point that he didn’t turn away in disgust.

  Claire relaxed against him, seeming to draw comfort from his embrace. He held her, wishing he could take away her unhappy memories, hating that she’d had such an awful childhood. She hid it well, but he could tell from the look in her eyes that it was painful for her to discuss her past. She rested her head against his chest, and the simple gesture of trust made his legs go weak. He was awed and honored that she had shared such personal recollections with him, and was overwhelmed by a feeling of tenderness, a desire to keep Claire safe. She’d experienced more than enough pain already.

  She drew back slowly, and he relaxed his hold as she put space between them. She shook off her earlier sadness, and her eyes lost their soft, unfocused look as she returned to the present and tried to reestablish the boundaries between them.

  Thomas watched her with a mixture of pride at her strength, and exasperation at her determination to keep him at arm’s length. How long would it take before she no longer felt the need to put up a shield around him? Maybe someday she’d even tell him the rest of her tale. Her terse explanation had sketched a sad picture, but he knew the complete story lay in the things she hadn’t said, in the silence between her words.

  “I’m so sorry,” she began, but then stopped, shaking her head.

  “What is it?”

  She looked down. “Sorry doesn’t begin to cover it. You’ve already been through so much as a family. I don’t know how you’re able to stand here and be so calm about the whole thing.”

  He considered, if only for a heartbeat, rejecting her change of conversation. But no, if he pushed her to share more of herself now, she’d only shy away. If he wanted to earn her trust, he had to give her space.

  He shrugged. “Trust me, on the inside, I’m anything but calm.”

  She laid her hand on his arm, the touch a warm, comforting weight. “I want to help.” Her voice was firm, determined. She made it sound like a challenge, as if she knew he would argue with her.

  She was right about that.

  He shook his head, even as she jerked her chin up and placed her hands on her hips. He bit his lip to keep from smiling—he was at least four inches taller, but she was trying her best to look intimidating. He didn’t have the heart to tell her it wasn’t working.

  “Absolutely not,” he said flatly.

  “But—”

  “No. That’s not what we do.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest and took a deep breath as if to calm herself. “You know Victor will trade Emily for me.”

  Thomas sighed. “Yes. But Valdez is in charge of the recovery operation, and there’s no way he’d let that happen.”

  Her gaze grew considering while she mulled over his words. “Valdez, huh?” she muttered. Thomas could practically see the wheels turning in her head, and in that moment he was struck by the depth of her character. Not many people would willingly offer to go with an assassin who’d already made an attempt on their life, much less conspire to do so after their initial offer was turned down. Not Claire. She was bound and determined to help him get Emily back, even if it meant her life.

  She would do it, he realized. She wasn’t making an empty offer, secure in the knowledge it would be turned down. She genuinely wanted to put herself in danger to save a little girl she’d never even met. Warmth blossomed in his chest as he watched her scheme and plan, and he was almost overcome by the urge to haul her close and kiss her, to stake his claim on her. For she was his now. No matter what happened, no matter how this went down, she would occupy a place in his heart for the rest of his life.

  Claire glanced up and caught him staring at her. Some of what he was feeling must have shown on his face, because her eyes widened briefly in surprise before her gaze softened. Her mouth relaxed, and the lines of her forehead smoothed out as she sent him a small smile.

  He held his arms out, wanting, needing, to touch her, to hold her against him. The fluttering sense of panic he felt whenever he thought of Emily was muted when Claire was touching him. He needed that now, to lose himself in the sensation of comfort she brought.

  She stepped into his embrace, tucking her head under his chin like she was made for him. He would worry about his growing feelings, his increasing dependence on her later. For now, there was only Claire.

  * * *

  Claire pressed against Thomas, turning to rest her head against his chest. They were flush against each other, and yet it wasn’t enough. She banded her arms around him, gripping him tightly. He was warm and solid and real, his presence a comforting buffer against the assaults of her memories.

  Why had she told him about her past? She hadn’t spoken of it since she’d left Dena’s house, not wanting to waste any more of her life on that woman. Bad enough she’d stolen her childhood—she wasn’t going to let her ruin the rest of her life, as well.

  But hasn’t she?

  She pushed aside the intrusive thought, not wanting to acknowledge the link between her adoptive mother and her avoidance of relationships. The idea that Dena’s actions still affected her today left her feeling unsettled and restless.

  She snuggled closer to Thomas, focusing on their embrace as a distraction. So she was cautious when it came to relationships. Who wasn’t? That was just being smart. The papers were full of stories of women who had trusted the wrong person and been hurt or killed because of it. Claire was determined not to become another victim.

  But Thomas won’t hurt you.

  That thought was harder to dismiss. She couldn’t deny that he had protected her, even stepped into danger himself to keep her safe. The man didn’t have an abusive bone in his body, yet she was still reluctant to let go and let herself feel, to put herself out there and hope he responded in kind.

  We only just met, her rational side pointed out.

  But her emotions didn’t care. Her instincts had taken the measure of this man and judged him as excellent. Although she had only known him for a short amount of time, she couldn’t deny that on one level, she felt she’d known him for years. There was something about him that made her feel safe, that had her lowering the resistance she held in place to keep the world at bay. She was tired, so tired, of constantly being on guard all the time. It was a revelation to know that she could rest around him, could even share her burdens with him, and draw comfort and strength from his presence.

  He
had protected her once and nearly gotten killed for his troubles. Now, she wanted—no, she needed—to help him in any way possible. If that meant putting herself in harm’s way to save his niece, so be it. Thomas had already been through so much, and he didn’t deserve to lose what was left of his family.

  They had to find Emily. The alternative didn’t bear considering. She suppressed a shudder at the thought of Victor, her skin tingling with the memory of his hands on her. No child should have to be around such a monster.

  It was clear Victor would trade the girl for her. The hard part would be convincing the FBI to go for it.

  He’d have to take me somewhere, she mused as she swept her hand down Thomas’s back in what she hoped was a comforting gesture. He couldn’t just kill me in front of the FBI.

  That would give them time to save her. Someone could tail them while Victor took her to his hideout, then sweep in and arrest the assassin before he had a chance to kill her. She had to admit that as far as plans went, it definitely needed a little work, but at least it was a starting point. Surely Agent Valdez would agree that an even exchange was the easiest, safest way to get Emily back.

  Thomas stiffened, jerking her out of her thoughts. He pulled away and crossed to the door, yanking it open with a quick tug on the handle. He was halfway down the hall before she heard the noise that had caught his attention: his phone, ringing insistently in the kitchen under Agent Valdez’s watchful eyes.

  Claire made it to the kitchen a few steps after Thomas, just in time to see Agent Valdez slap his hand down over the ringing phone. Thomas made a low, dangerous sound deep in his throat, but the other man ignored the threatening glare Thomas sent his way.

  “Keep him on the line,” he said, his voice calm and even. “Agree to whatever he says. We’ll go from there.”

  Thomas nodded impatiently, already reaching for the phone. Agent Valdez kept his hand in place for a few seconds longer, his gaze dark and intense. “Are you sure you can do this?”

  “Yes!” Claire winced at his shouted reply. “Now give me the damn phone before he hangs up.”

  Valdez removed his hand to allow Thomas to grab the phone. He jabbed at the button, eyebrows drawn together in a frown, then pressed the phone to his ear.

  “Kincannon.”

  Claire watched his hand clench into a fist, saw the lines of his arm sharpen into relief as his muscles tightened. Her fingers itched to trace over his skin, but she knew touching him would be an unwelcome distraction right now.

  “Let me talk to her,” he said, glancing quickly at Valdez, who gave an approving nod. The other man leaned over and pressed a button on the recording device on the counter. Claire flinched when Victor’s voice flooded the room.

  “Soon,” he said, malice oozing from the word. She could almost see the satisfied expression on the assassin’s face as he sat in his safe house, believing he had won. Rather than scaring her, his voice filled her with resolve. They would beat this monster, and she wanted to be a part of it.

  “I’m ready to make an exchange,” Victor continued, speaking as if he had all the time in the world. “Interested?”

  Thomas’s eyes flickered to Claire. She nodded, hoping he could see how determined she was.

  “You know I am,” he said quietly.

  “Good. Tomorrow morning. The Armory. I assume you know where that is?”

  Thomas swallowed hard. “I do.”

  “I’ll bring the girl. You bring the woman and the papers. Six a.m.”

  “All right.”

  “And by the way,” Victor continued, almost as an afterthought. “I don’t need to tell you to leave your coworkers at home, do I, Agent Kincannon? I know they’re listening in, recording me, trying to pinpoint my location.” He laughed, a low rumble across the line. “It won’t work, but I applaud your determination. Leave them out of this.”

  “You know I can’t do that,” Thomas fired back. “The minute you took my niece, you pulled the bureau into this.”

  Claire sucked in a breath. What was he doing? Valdez had told him to agree to everything. Why was Thomas arguing with this man? Apparently Valdez felt the same way, because he started gesturing fiercely, his movements silent but emphatic. Thomas caught sight of the other man and bit his lip, nodding in acknowledgment of his mistake.

  “Call them off,” Victor said, an edge creeping into his voice.

  Valdez scowled and gesticulated again. Thomas held up a hand to placate him.

  “All right,” he replied, a muscle in his jaw starting to tic. “We’ll come alone.”

  “See that you do,” Victor said. “I would hate to have to hurt the girl. She’s very fond of you, you know. Says nothing but good things about her uncle Tommy. Rather annoying, actually.”

  “If you touch one hair—” Thomas began, but cut himself off after a sharp jab from Valdez.

  “Do go on, Agent Kincannon,” Victor said, sounding amused. “I believe you were in the middle of threatening me?”

  “Let me talk to her,” Thomas said. “Please.”

  Victor sighed. “Fine. But only for a second.”

  There was a scuffling, scratchy sound while the phone was moved, then they heard Victor’s voice, distant. “It’s your uncle. Talk to him.”

  Claire leaned forward as a soft whimper came through the line. Then, “Uncle Thomas?” The words were hesitant but hopeful.

  He squeezed his eyes shut, sucking in a deep breath. “Hi there, Emmycakes. How are you?”

  “Cold,” she replied. “Where are you?”

  “I’m...” He trailed off, clearly fumbling for an answer. He looked to Claire, his eyes wide and lost. Not caring what his coworkers thought, she reached out to lay her hand on his arm, squeezing gently. He held her gaze for a few seconds longer, then gave a short nod. “I’m making sure your mom and grandma are okay, and then I’ll come get you.”

  “When?” Her voice sounded small and teary, and Claire swallowed hard around the lump in her throat.

  Thomas closed his eyes, clearly pained. “How does tomorrow morning sound?”

  Emily was quiet for a moment, and Claire feared Victor had taken the phone away from her. Then she spoke again. “Okay.”

  “Good. Get some rest for me. Sweet dreams, baby.”

  More shuffling, then Victor was back. “Satisfied?”

  “Thank you,” Thomas said. Claire’s heart ached at the hollow sound of his voice. Talking to Emily had been difficult for him, she knew; it was good to hear the little girl was unharmed, but now there was no way to deny or ignore the fact that Victor held her captive.

  “Don’t be late.” Victor’s parting words were followed by the click and drone of the dial tone, loud in the otherwise silent room. Thomas pushed a button on the phone, then stood still for a moment while he stared down at the device in his hand.

  Claire saw the muscle in his jaw tighten, followed by a blur of motion as Thomas threw the phone across the room. It hit the wall with a loud crack, bits of broken plastic shrapnel flying everywhere.

  When he slowly turned around to face the group, she could see he was not the same man he’d been when she first met him, not even the same man he’d been five minutes ago. Gone was the spark of humor in his eyes, the ever-present lift of the corner of his mouth, as if he was always on the verge of smiling. Now his expression was hard and cold, his features arranged in harsh lines and shadows. His eyes were bright with anger, and he turned that calculating gaze on Agent Valdez with an intensity that made Claire take a half step back.

  “What’s next?”

  Chapter 9

  It was all happening so fast.

  Claire stood in the corner of the buzzing room, arms wrapped around her middle as she tried to stay out of the way. Agents moved about at a relentless pace, breaking off into groups, consulting
maps, checking weapons. Everyone had a job to do, and they were going about it with grim-faced determination.

  “Dr. Fleming.”

  She glanced over to see Agent Valdez gesturing her forward. He hadn’t left his station in the middle of the kitchen, a location she’d come to think of as Command Central. Apparently, she wasn’t the only one who felt that way—a steady stream of people had been milling around the agent, orbiting him as if he were the sun in this particular solar system.

  The group made way for her as she approached. Would he let her come along on the operation? She felt a small thrill in the pit of her stomach at the thought. It would be dangerous, she knew, but also necessary if they were to get Emily back safely. Tamping down the quivers of fear fluttering in her chest, she stopped in front of Valdez and waited for him to finish his phone conversation.

  He disconnected and got right to the point.

  “I need your clothes.”

  Claire blinked at him, stunned by the random statement. What was he talking about?

  “Excuse me?”

  “I need your clothes,” he repeated, sweeping his eyes over her body while he spoke. Although she knew his assessment wasn’t sexual, she felt her cheeks heat with a blush at his frank gaze.

  “Why?” She swallowed hard, determined to ignore her schoolgirl reaction. For crying out loud, now was not the time to be shy!

  “There’s a chance Victor saw you today when he spoke to Agent Kincannon.”

  The reminder of just what she and Thomas had been doing before that phone call sent a fresh blush to her cheeks, and she glanced involuntarily at Thomas, who was standing off to the side, deep in conversation with James. If Valdez noticed she was lit up like a Christmas tree, he chose not to say anything.