“Ah-ha. Good point. A man would have to be mindless to cheat on you.”
Since the driver was at least as old as her grandfather, she took that as a compliment and not a come on. “Thank you. You’re very kind.”
He shifted the car into gear. “Where do you want to go? I imagine away from here.”
“Far away,” she agreed. “The airport.”
The driver left her to her thoughts after that and she watched the party atmosphere of Duval give way to quiet residential neighborhoods. She should tell the driver to change directions so she could go back to the house and pack. Maybe even leave a note for Jude because despite him cementing his spot as the King of Assholes tonight, he would worry if she just up and disappeared.
Libby scoffed at herself. What did she care? Let him worry. Served him right and, although she regretted not being able to say goodbye to Sam, she couldn’t to go back to Seth’s house. She might break something—like Jude’s thick scull if he decided to come home tonight after his dalliance with the brunette. She’d just have her father send someone for her things and catch the first available flight back to Miami. From there, it was only a two-and-a-half hour flight home.
Oh, God. Her father. Why hadn’t she listened to him in the first place? She just hoped that he didn’t resort to his father-knows-best speech, which was essentially a long I-told-you-so. She didn’t think she could handle that now.
Libby leaned her head against the cab’s seat and shut her eyes, blocking out the passing scenery, sick to death of palm trees and beaches and ocean.
This vacation was officially over.
…
The moment Jude stepped into the house and heard the particular echo that only came with emptiness, panic roared through him like a tsunami. Still, he checked every room, found the bed still rumpled from their earlier lovemaking, her clothes still in the dresser, toiletries still in the bathroom, her book still on the coffee table in the living room.
What if…?
No. He shut down the thought before it completely formed. Burke was in prison. With the stalking charges, Pruitt’s abduction, and after his confession to K-Bar’s murder, he was never getting free. The danger to her had passed.
Tell that to his heart, which was trying to pound out of his chest. He grabbed his cell phone from his jeans pocket and dialed Camden, who answered groggily after a handful of rings.
“What the hell, Jude? It’s two o’clock. I just got to sleep.”
“Libby’s gone.”
“Gone?” he repeated.
“Yes, gone, goddammit! She’s not in the house! I can’t find her!” Some distant portion of his fear-drenched mind realized he was screaming into the phone, but he didn’t give a fuck.
“Whoa, relax.” Cam sounded wide-awake now. “Take a breath.”
He couldn’t. For real this time, he couldn’t breathe. He sank to the couch as his legs gave out and dropped his head forward between his knees. “She’s gone. Did Burke—? Is he still—? Fuck.” His voice broke. “What if she’s in trouble?”
“She’s not.”
“You don’t know that. We need to get the cops back out here. We need to make sure Burke’s still locked up. She’s gone!”
Silence stretched for eternity on his brother’s end of the line. Finally, Cam sighed. “Are you drunk?”
“No, I’m not drunk!”
“Jude,” Cam said evenly, “you need to calm the fuck down and listen to me, okay? Libby is not missing. She’s on her way back to D.C.”
“What?”
“Yeah, I thought you knew. Her father called Reece an hour ago and asked for travel arrangements for her from Miami. She should be in the air, on her way there now.”
Jude opened his mouth, but his vocal chords seized. Why would she just up and leave like that?
And then he knew, the realization like a sucker punch to the gut. She’d followed him to the bar, had seen Sienna proposition him and…
Yeah. Given their past, that would make her bolt for sure.
So much for his second chance. Angry with himself, Jude hung up the phone and pulled the ring out of his pocket. He stared at it for a long, long time, turning it, watching the light play through the tiny gem. No sense in keeping it now, but…he folded his fingers around it and returned it to its home in his pocket so it could continue to torture him for the rest of his life.
He should have figured he’d fuck it all up. That’s what he did best.
Chapter Twenty-Six
If one more person asked her if she was okay, she was going to scream.
Libby thought she couldn’t wait to get back to work and dive into her normal life, and now she wanted nothing more than to go home and forget about all the whispers and pitying stares from well-meaning coworkers. Maybe curl up under a blanket with a book and a hot mug of coffee. Even a week later, her body still hadn’t acclimated back to D.C.’s changeable weather and the windless summer day made the air soup-like. Her blouse stuck to her spine as she left her office building.
She double-timed it across the parking lot to her car. No doubt about it, the words “air conditioning,” “book,” and “ice tea” were synonyms for heaven, especially in this kind of weather. The only thing that could possibly make her night better would be a cat curled up on top of her feet.
The thought brought on a sharp stab of longing. She missed Sam.
Maybe it was time to think about getting herself a cat. It would mean less time in the office, but maybe it was time for that, too. Maybe she needed to focus on something other than work.
She hit the button on her key fob to unlock her Subaru’s doors and as she reached for the handle on the driver’s side, she sensed movement behind her. Not Kenneth, she told herself. Still, her heart tripped, her fingers slipped off the door handle, and she dropped her keys.
Not Kenneth. Not Kenneth. Not Kenneth.
But what if he’d gotten out…?
Working up a horror movie scream just in case, she whirled—and found her father.
She swallowed the scream with some effort and took the time to reach for her keys on the pavement at her feet before facing him. “What are you doing here?”
“I was driving by,” he said in a light, casual tone. “I saw you coming out of the office and thought I’d stop.”
He was so full of bullshit and it ticked her off that he felt the need to gloss over his true intentions. “You’re checking up on me.”
“I’m your father.”
“And I’m twenty-nine years old!” Libby wrenched open her car door, threw her briefcase inside, jammed the keys into the ignition and started the engine. She’d been meaning to have this conversation with him, but hadn’t had the energy since returning home. Nevertheless, there were things that needed to be said, things that she couldn’t put off any longer.
With the car a/c blasting, she straightened and turned back to him. “Dad, this has to stop.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Yes,” she said more gently, “you do. I know everything you do is out of love, but it’s too much. It’s smothering. You have to stop.”
“You’re my daughter. It’s my job to protect you, and with your…condition...you’re going to need help.”
“Dammit, Mom wasn’t supposed to tell you.”
“Your mother doesn’t know how to keep a secret.”
Libby sighed. “You can’t protect me from everything, especially not from this. If you try, it’s going to drive a wedge between us.” And as much as he sometimes annoyed her, the thought of losing him over something so fixable, of never seeing him again due to their shared stubborn gene, made her throat tighten up. “I don’t want that. I want you in my life, Daddy—just not controlling it.”
His shoulders hunched slightly, which she hadn’t thought possible. He always walked, stood, ate, and probably even slept with the erect posture of a Marine in formation. In her entire life, she’d never seen him slouch. “I just want you safe and happy.�
��
She rubbed his arm. “I am safe now.” Happy was another beast altogether, one she hadn’t tamed yet. True, for a short time in Key West, she’d thought…
But that was over.
She’d make her own happiness, starting tomorrow. She’d go to the animal shelter and pick out a cat. She’d cut back her hours at work, find a hobby or two, and get ready for her impending arrival. In time, she’d find her own kind of happiness.
She supposed she had Jude to thank for that. She’d been frozen in the past for eight long years, unable to move forward, but three weeks in paradise with him had started thawing her. Then his betrayal had cracked away the last of the ice, leaving her exposed, forcing her to make a decision. Change or perish.
She chose change.
Her father was staring at her with worry pinching his eyes, the creases radiating outward until they disappeared under the edge of his service uniform cover. “You’re not happy.”
“No,” she admitted. “But I will be.”
The air settled thickly in the silence that fell between them.
Finally, in another uncharacteristic move, he shifted on his feet. “What happened between you and Wilde after I left Key West?”
“Dad…” She sighed. Okay, so change wouldn’t be easy, especially not for someone like her father. She had a feeling this was the first of many similar conversations. “I thought we just discussed this. What happened is none of your business.”
“No, I think it is.” He motioned to her car. “Get in.”
“Why?”
“I have a story to tell you.”
She stared at him for a moment. She wanted to stand her ground and demand he explain himself, but the coolness inside her car beckoned. She slid behind the wheel, waited until he walked around the hood and slid into the passenger seat. Then she turned to him, suspicion making her voice sharper than she’d planned. “What kind of story exactly?”
Sighing, he pulled off his cover and rubbed a hand over his hairless head. Libby had always liked his baldness. He used to bend over as he tucked her in every night so she could kiss the crown of his head. The memory made her smile inwardly. If there was one constant in her life, it was her father’s love.
Tension knotted her muscles, but she didn’t speak again until they both settled into their seats and started cooling down under the blast of the a/c. Then she turned to him. “What story?”
“It’s the story,” he began without meeting her gaze, “of a father trying to protect his daughter. Of him taking it a step too far when she fell in love with a man he thought unworthy of her.”
Libby sucked in a breath. “Oh my God, Dad. What did you do to Jude? Is he okay?”
He flinched as if her words had slapped him across the face. “He’s fine. Back home, working with his brothers. I wouldn’t hurt him and it shames me that you think I would.”
“I don’t! At least— I just— The way you said—” She pressed her lips together and took a second to gather her wits. “What did you mean by that?”
“I was talking about the past.”
Her stomach sank into her toes. “When?”
“Jude came to our house one day eight years ago in full uniform, even saluted when he saw me. He’d come to ask me for my blessing to marry you.”
“He what?” She could picture it so clearly, Jude walking into the lion’s den in full dress uniform. Saluting her father. Asking his question…and getting shot down. “You told him he didn’t have your blessing, didn’t you?”
Misery and shame radiated off him as he shook his head. “I didn’t want you marrying a Marine.”
“How could you?”
He finally met her gaze and in his eyes she saw his shame, but also a kind of desperation she’d never seen before. “Elizabeth, do you have any idea what I put your mother through every time I left for a tour? Neither of us wanted that for you. I didn’t want to take the risk you’d end up a young, heartbroken widow. Or, God forbid, a young widow with young children to care for. I wanted you to finish school, make a career for yourself.”
Tears blurred her vision and she blinked them furiously back. “Who says I wouldn’t have?”
“Statistics.”
She shook her head in disbelief. “What about what I wanted?”
“It wasn’t a consideration,” he admitted. “It’s my job to protect you.”
Funny, Jude once said those exact same words to her.
“Dad…” But she couldn’t yell at him. He was obviously already aware of his mistake so what would yelling accomplish? “Oh, Daddy.”
“A day later, I found out he’d already proposed to you before he ever came to ask my permission.” He hung his head. “It was not one of my proudest moments. I had this ugly idea of your future embedded in my mind and I thought I had to stop it, so I tracked Jude down, roughed him up a little, threatened to ruin his career, his life, to poison you against him while he was overseas. That last bit broke him. You should know he would have endured all of the rest, would have put up with me making him miserable for the rest of his life, but the thought of returning home to find out you hated him—that broke him.”
You’ve indulged him?
The surprise in Jude’s voice at that realization suddenly made a lot more sense. For years, he’d thought her father had absolute sway over her. What must have gone through his head when he found out that wasn’t the case?
I’m a fucking idiot.
Oh, he wasn’t the only one in this situation. She punched her father’s shoulder as hard as she could. His head snapped up in surprise and his eyes flashed anger followed by hurt.
“That was for ruining the best thing I ever had!” It wasn’t until he reached over and folded her in his arms that she realized she was crying freely. He rocked her as he had in her childhood when soothing her from a nightmare.
“I’m so sorry, Libby. As much as I try—” His voice broke. “I’m not perfect. I hope someday you can forgive me.”
She held on to him as tightly as she could and buried her tears in the front of his uniform. “He cheated on me again. After you left, I followed him to a bar and saw him with another brunette. Why is it always a brunette?”
“Oh, sweetie, no.” Firmly, he set her away from him and wiped at her tears with his big thumbs. “I don’t know what you think you saw, but it wasn’t Jude Wilde cheating. For all of his faults, he’s not a cheater. He never has been.”
She sniffled. “He cheated before.”
“No. I told him he had to break things off with you in a way that you’d never want to take him back. The woman you saw him with? She was another Marine. I asked her to help him with the charade.”
“You made him hurt me?”
Her father nodded. “I thought it was for your own good, but I was wrong. He’s not a cheater.”
“Then what was he doing with that brunette on Duval Street?”
He drew a breath. “I called him that night and warned him away from you again.”
“Dad!”
“It was wrong, I know, but maybe that’s why he was at the bar. You should go ask him.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead, then let her go and placed his cover back on his head. As he pushed open the car door, he hesitated and looked at her for a long moment. “And tell him…he has my blessing.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Jude snarled as a shadow fell over the papers on his desk, blocking out the crappy office lights. He’d spent his week up to his elbows in the expense reports Reece demanded he fill out, and he just wanted to finish this last one, go home, and drown his sorrows for the weekend.
He didn’t want to talk to anyone and thought the F-U force field he’d constructed around himself would keep them all at bay. Then again, some of his brothers had no concept of self-preservation.
He lifted his gaze and scowled at the owner of the shadow. Camden stood beside the desk unapologetically blocking the light with his big frame. Sam the Cat lay across Cam’s wide shoulders, content
to hang there like a fluffy orange scarf and doze. Since Jude had no idea when Seth would be home, he’d brought the feline back to D.C. with him and Sam had quickly won over the hearts of his brothers, earning himself a spot as Wilde Security’s spoiled mascot.
“You’re in my light,” Jude snapped.
“Yup.”
“I’m busy. What do you want?”
“For starters,” Cam said, “my brother back.”
“What are you talking about? I’m right here.”
“Where are the paper footballs? The fight provoking? You haven’t even aggravated Reece once since you got home.”
“I’m okay with that,” Reece said from across the room.
“Yeah, well, I’m not.” Camden took the cat off his shoulders, plopping the fat feline down on top of Jude’s reports. “How about a game of Battleship?”
Libby, accusing him of cheating as she tossed her panties at him…
As his gut twisted, he shut his eyes to close out the memory. “I hate that game.”
“Since when?”
He shooed Sam off his desk, picked up his pen, and got back to work, but Cam yanked the paper out from under the tip.
“Okay, this has got to stop. Go find her.”
“No.”
“Why the hell not?” Cam demanded.
“Because I don’t want to.”
“Bullshit,” Cam said. “Try again.”
“Because I don’t fucking care.”
Cam made a buzzer sound out of the side of his mouth. “You’re oh-for-two. One more time.”
Jude glared up at his brother. “She doesn’t want me, okay? Now leave me the fuck alone.”
“Ah, getting warmer.”
“Goddammit!” All of the hurt and sorrow coalesced into a blinding rage so hot he didn’t realize he whipped his pen at the desk hard enough to break the cheap thing until Sam jumped and hissed. Except for scaring the cat out of one of his nine lives, the splintered pen bounced harmlessly to the floor. Wasn’t enough. Anger rode him so hard he wanted to throw the whole damn desk across the room. It didn’t help that all of his brothers had stopped what they were doing to eavesdrop and Cam stood there, arms crossed, looking so calm and reasonable and Cam-like, prompting him to spill his guts with a murmured, “Talk to me, bro.”
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