by Allie Adams
Green turned his head and stared at the Com Van. “I see K-SAR is here. Good. This involves her, too.”
“Her?” Spencer visibly tensed and even took a step toward Green, but Gessler stopped him.
“Frankly,” Green went on. “I'm shocked she agreed to run another search with you after what you did to her.”
Blood retreated from all of Kat's limbs, leaving them cold and icy. In turn it all rushed to her head, causing it to pound relentlessly. In her flash of heated panic, she nailed her attention on Spencer. What did he do that he didn't want her to know?
“Emery Haynes.” Green said the one name that connected the dots. Even though he'd said the name before, it didn't click for her until now. “Do you know who he was? What he was?”
She fought to breathe as the epiphany washed over her. Spencer acted very peculiar on that search. Irrational, just like this one.
Green's voice brought her back from her memory. “One year ago Emery Haynes was up here, supposedly lost.” He turned to Spencer. “But he wasn't lost, was he? You knew exactly where he was.”
“Shut up.” Spencer pushed him toward the door. “Jesus God, man. Shut the fuck up.”
“You were too quick to respond that night, too. The Order hired me to track Emery Haynes and bring him back so they could persuade him to tell them who it was trying to change the balance of power. But I wasn't the only one up here that night, tracking Haynes.”
Dread slowed her blood as she helplessly listened in.
“So who else was up here?” Gessler asked.
“I can't tell you.”
“After all that? Now you decide to shut your fucking mouth? I don't think so.” Gessler pulled out his gun and shoved it between Green's lips. “Talk or I remove your ability to do so.”
Kat slapped her hand over her mouth to stop from crying out.
Green raised his zip-tied hands. “Emery Haynes was never meant to be found.”
Oh, Jesus God. Spencer had said those exact words.
“At least not until we insured he wouldn't be able to talk. By the time I found him, he already had a bullet between the eyes. It didn't matter that I didn't get the kill shot. I delivered on the hit and got the payday.”
Gessler slowly lowered the gun and turned to Spencer. “Wait a sec. That's your big secret? You terminated a subject? Holy shit, Allen. Here I thought it was something serious.” He even laughed, but then tossed a glance toward the Com Van and fell silent for several seconds before speaking again. “Oh, shit. You let her take the fall. You let her believe she found him too late when you'd already found him. Wow. Good thing we switched frequencies. If she heard any of this… Well, I wouldn't want to be you, dude.”
Spencer glanced in the Com Van's direction. She couldn't see him clearly due to the distance and the window screen, but she knew those smoky eyes stormed as he looked right at her. He knew she had to have heard it all. Every goddamn word.
Kat squeezed the hand covering her mouth into a fist as, little by little, it all started to make sense. She closed her eyes, the pain and confusion clouding her mind. Her eyes stung with fresh tears, but she kept her composure somehow. Realization burned into her brain. She'd been sent to find a man already being hunted.
A man marked for death.
Damn, damn, and double damn. She'd sent her units out there, putting them into danger. And she'd blamed herself for that man's death. She'd fought the nightmares for a year.
“Jesus,” she whispered and trembled uncontrollably. Her breath barely pushed in and out of her lungs. She had no strength. “Oh, my God. I never knew. I thought he died from exposure.”
“Who is that?” Weber's asked. He turned to the Com Van and then jerked his attention to Spencer. “You gave her a fucking radio? Have you completely lost your goddamn mind, Allen?”
Kat couldn't breathe. Everything started to spin. The walls closed in as the cruel reality crashed into her.
Oh, shit. Shit! He knew. Spencer knew about everything and never told her. She thought—no, she believed—that man's death was her fault. The guilt had nearly destroyed her. For an entire year she'd carried it, had nightmare after nightmare, and took the fall. For what?
So the man she thought she knew could walk away with a clean conscience. Now she knew the truth. The brutal, unrelenting truth. Spencer Allen killed a man and then let the blame fall on her. That son of a bitch let her believe she'd failed that search.
Swallowing over and over, fighting to take a breath, she shook violently. Sweat beaded on her upper lip. Cold, clammy sweat that increased her shivers. Kat's world crumbled around her. Her bones went limp and refused to hold her upright. She couldn't see through the little fuzzy dots clouding her vision. The Com Van closed in on her. She had to get out, to find a way to pull in a breath before she collapsed. The urge to throw up kicked her saliva glands into overdrive. She stumbled to the door.
Kat scrambled outside to the back of the Com Van and emptied what little she had in her stomach. She vaguely heard Spencer call to her before the warmth of his hand rested on her back.
Despite the need to wretch again, she straightened and threw his hand off her. She couldn't stand the touch of this man, not anymore. Not ever again. She thought his rejection a year ago had destroyed her, but it was nothing compared to his betrayal.
Eyes burning, rage and unbelievable pain consuming her, she charged at him, both fists swinging. She even got one good punch off before he seized both her wrists.
“Kathryn, please let me explain.”
“You son of a bitch! How could you do that to me?” She broke one of her hands free and threw another punch. But, alas, it missed.
“Baby, please. I had no choice.” He easily had her detained and tightened his grip the more she struggled.
She pushed him away and looked at him, seeing him in a new light. “Bullshit! You did have a choice, Spencer! You did! And you chose wrong.”
He spoke in a soft voice that hurt to hear. “I had to make the choice between you and my job. It was the hardest decision I'd ever had to make.”
“Congratulations, Spencer. You no longer have to make that choice. I'm choosing for you. This is something I should have done a long time ago.” She wished she had something of his to throw at him to really drive home her point. “We are done.”
“Kathryn, please. Don't do this.”
“You let me believe—” she choked on a sob. “How could you do that to me?” When he didn't answer, she shook her head at the stranger standing before her. “I don't even know you.”
“Yes, you do. I'm still the same man.”
She nodded numbly. “Yeah, I guess you are.”
“Kathryn, don't do this. You don't know the whole story.”
“And I don't want to know.”
“Kathryn—”
“Just stop!” She put her hands up like a traffic cop. “We. Are. Done.”
“No!” He grabbed her by the arms.
She threw his hands off her. “Don't ever touch me again.” She threw the receiver at him and walked over to her vehicle, got in, turned the engine over, and drove away from the search, numb.
And, once again, Spencer didn't stop her. He didn't even making the fucking effort to walk toward her vehicle. Obviously, he never did commit to them the way she had. Past tense. She'd never commit to him again. Screw me once, shame on you. Screw me twice, shame on me.
Well, the shame was definitely on her this time. She'd made the same mistake of falling in love with a man incapable of returning that love. Again.
Apparently, he really was the same man.
TWENTY-TWO
Kat couldn't see through the tears blurring her vision as she drove home. She drove slowly, not because snow had started to fall again, but because she didn't trust herself to drive any faster.
Her cell rang so many times since she left the search she finally turned it off. Damn Spencer Allen for what he'd done. He shattered her heart into a million tiny pieces, and she felt e
ach one. She hurt more than she could have possibly imagined. Her head hurt. Her body hurt. Even her soul hurt, all due to that lying bastard.
“Damn!” She muttered as another round of humiliating tears fell. She hated him and hated herself for falling in love with him again. Even her beloved American Idol CDs didn't help. She turned off the music and drove the rest of the way in silence.
She pulled into her covered parking spot and shut of the motor. Her apartment felt so lonely. It took every ounce of effort she had to drag herself up the stairs.
This was her home, not Spencer's house. The thought brought another painful beat to her already aching heart. She would never forgive him for this. She'd suffered an entire year because she thought her actions had killed that man. She'd had to take medication to sleep after that search. Living with the guilt had nearly consumed her.
And Spencer knew. Damn it, he knew the truth and never told her. No wonder he let her go.
She threw her keys on the floor and didn't bother turning on any lights. She knew her way around the sparse furniture. Into the kitchen she went, straight to the vodka she kept on top of the fridge for special occasions.
Well, Kathryn Louise, this is as special as it gets. She unscrewed the top and took a large swallow, then another and another, until she'd emptied half the bottle. The taste made her shudder as it numbed her tongue. She winced as it burned her throat. After replacing the bottle above the fridge, she shuffled to her room. Falling on the bed, she closed her eyes and cried until the vodka hit her full force.
Then she passed out.
The ringing of her land line jolted her awake. Head pounding, she squinted at the caller ID. Even that hurt. Eight in the morning? She'd slept almost eighteen hours? It took her a minute to focus enough to read the number.
“Hey, Rand.” She swallowed hard and rolled onto her back. Dear God, it felt like she'd been run over by the Com Van. This was why she never drank vodka, especially on an empty stomach. She made a promise to herself to only stick to wine from here on out and then closed her eyes as she cursed herself for bargaining about which alcohol to drown her sorrows in.
“If you'll pardon my French, boss. But what the fuck?”
“Care to elaborate on that?” God, am I slurring?
“Have you been drinking?” He didn't sound happy to even ask that question.
“Rand, call back later.”
“You sound like you're a bit on the pissed side and your cell is off. What's going on? You left the Green search yesterday without a word to anyone. Travis got back to an empty Com Van and you not answering your cell. And then he started calling me, so then I started calling you. Do you have any idea how close I was to a bloody stroke? I don't like not being able to find you.”
“I went home. So?”
“Your boyfriend spent an hour bending my ear about it. I don't much appreciate him thinking I care about your reaction to whatever shit storm he's brought down on himself.”
“He's not my boyfriend anymore.” Her heart hurt worse than her head at admitting that aloud.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“When have I ever wanted to talk about it?” She rested a hand over her eyes in an attempt to ward off some of the blinding pain behind them. It was like a hyper two-year-old on a brand new drum set inside her brain.
“So,” he started, and then stopped in typical dithering fashion. He started and stopped several times before finally speaking. “This thing between you and Spence isn't going to stop K-SAR from taking callouts from TREX, is it?”
She shook her head and hissed from the pain. “Don't worry about it, Rand. K-SAR will be fine without them.”
“So, you are going to sever all ties with the agency?” He did not sound happy.
“We don't need their business.”
“Kat, listen to me. Don't let your thing with Spence stop you from working with TREX.”
She thought about giving in to bitter laughter but decided against it. It would cause too much pain. “It's a bit more than a thing.”
“Well, whatever it is, don't let it kill K-SAR. TREX is our biggest contract. You cut them off and we are back to eating scraps for dinner. I know how you love your boxes of frozen pasta but I prefer real food.”
She couldn't even think about food right now. Her stomach protested and flipped, threatening to reject whatever she had in there. “Anything else, Rand?”
“All right. I'm not going to get through to you right now in the state you're in. It must have been one hell of a party.”
“You know it.”
“Before you decide about TREX, think about it. Okay?”
“I'll think about it.” And then she'd break ties with anything involving TREX, including Spencer Allen. Kat hung up and dropped her phone on the bed. To hell with it. She shut off the ringer and grabbed her cell phone, switching it back on. It was going to be a long day.
Her cell phone rang right in her ear and she practically cried from the noise. Grabbing it, she answered, “Rand, I'm going to kill you for calling my cell after just talking to me.”
“Kathryn? It's me, Spence.”
She tried to ignore the painful skip in her heart. “What do you want?”
“I wanted to make sure you were all right.”
“It's a little late for that. You could have checked on me last year, when I needed you. You would have seen I wasn't all right. You could have changed that.”
“It isn't too late,” he said softly, tenderly. It hurt her heart to hear it.
She refused to buy his bullshit. Not this time. “Yes, Spencer, it is.”
“Sweetheart, listen. I tried to tell you.”
“Yesterday,” she pointed out and, despite the pain, jerked to a sitting position. “You had an entire year to tell me, yet you waited until yesterday. Even then I had to hear it as I eavesdropped on your radio traffic. Do you have any idea how humiliating that is?”
He sighed through the line. “Please, baby. Let me talk to you now.”
She lowered her eyes as another hurt invaded her body, this one an inferno of emotions that burned clear to her soul. “Like I said, it's too late.”
“Kathryn, please.”
“You may call me Kat. It's what all of my colleagues call me.”
“I'm more than a colleague to you.” The softness in his tone pulled at her heart.
“I wish you weren't even that,” she bit off and cringed at the acid in her tone.
“I know you're angry at me right now.”
Her eyes burned and she jumped to her feet. Oh, God. That hurt. She swallowed her stomach back down. “Angry? Is that all you think I am? I wish I were only angry with you. Anger is something I can get over, something that will pass in time. Anger doesn't even begin to describe how I feel toward you.” She gnawed on her remaining nails. When that didn't help, she resorted to pacing as she tried to come up with something to make him hurt as much as he'd hurt her. “I hate you, Spencer Allen. Do you hear me? I. Hate. You.”
“You don't mean that.” Raw agony passed through the line in his voice.
“Oh, I promise you. I do.”
“Kathryn.”
“Kat,” she corrected.
“I'm sorry I hurt you. But this, right here, is why I never said anything. Your goddamn silver tongue isn't helping. We are stronger than this. What we have his stronger than this. I never meant for any of this to happen.”
“But it did.” And he never once tried to make it right until it was too late.
“And neither of us can change that!” he roared. “It's in the past.”
“Then I have to change how it affects my future. Goodbye, Spencer.”
* * * *
Her landline was ringing as Kat opened her apartment door. She set her groceries down and grabbed the receiver on the third ring.
“Hello?”
“Kathryn, please don't hang up.”
Click. She really needed to start checking the caller ID. Her phone immediately ran
g again. She turned it off and dropped it back on its base. Humming her favorite tune from her American Idol of the week, she went about the task of putting the groceries away.
After finishing with the groceries and filling up on a tasteless box of microwaved pasta, she grabbed her glass of wine and headed for the living room to look through the notes she'd been able to jot down over the past few days.
Martin Miller had the power to shift the balance within the Order. Why? Why would that matter? That part still puzzled her. Those bastards—Salazar in particular—used a six-year-old child as leverage. For what? For Miller to continue to deny them what they wanted. In turn, Salazar had given the order to kill an innocent little boy.
She grabbed the papers and glanced through them after flipping on the TV to an old rerun of Friends for background noise. What she wouldn't give to be able to bounce ideas off someone. Spencer was out. Rand? No. She didn't want to talk to anyone else about Martin Miller's involvement in the Order.
Only one other person came to mind. Her partner-in-crime. Grabbing her phone, she dialed his number and listened to the rings.
“Please tell me there isn't another search already,” Travis grumbled. “I'm still pissed at you for the Green search.”
“I'm sorry.”
“And that's supposed to make it all better?”
“It's all you're going to get,” she fired back, ready to hang up on him for starting a fight with her when she just wanted someone to talk to.
“You can be a real bitch sometimes, you know that? It's a good thing I'm in love with you.” He spoke in a light tone, but Kat tensed as her memory settled on that day in the market. Just how true was that statement?
She decided she didn't want to go there right now. She just wanted someone to talk to. “I need to tell you something but you have to promise me you'll not tell anyone else.”
“Oh, I already love it. Deal. Tell me.” Travis sounded just like an excited teen, about to receive the juiciest gossip of the year.