Slater's Revenge

by Claudia Shelton

  “Sorry to leave you this way, but right now my family comes first.” Ed’s voice was strong and sure. “You understand, don’t you?”

  “I understand.”

  “That means you’ll be on your own here in Riverfalls.”

  Josh knew exactly what that meant. No room for mistakes. He’d hoped for a couple of days to get equipment set up, but Coercion Ten had been faster and were already in place. The key to the past was in this town—he just had to narrow the bull’s-eye. Every hour, every minute, every second counted. There were only so many in a man’s lifetime.

  The chauffeur leaned closer. “One more thing. They gave me a message for you. Doesn’t make sense to me, but this is verbatim what they said. ‘We know Macki’s weakness. Her cutting board doesn’t lie. What’s yours, Josh Slater? What’s yours?’”

  Chapter Ten

  Twenty minutes later, Mackenzie watched Ed and Darla disappear out the side door of her private garage. Would she ever see them again? Forty-eight hours ago, the answer would have been clear. Now everything was a cloud with one big question mark. The only thing she knew for sure was that the current danger was real.

  “Let’s go.” Josh motioned her into the elevator then stepped in behind her, pushing P for penthouse.

  A loud hum echoed from above, catching her attention. Automatically, she glanced up to see the open access ceiling of the elevator. Evidently, he’d come down the cable, and from the look of the bloodied T-shirt in the corner, he’d hurt his hand on the steel cord.

  He hadn’t even bothered to put on more clothes than the jeans she’d seen him wearing as he’d stretched out on her sofa earlier. Jeans that hugged his body, low and casual, with a button that would be so easy to undo.

  Her heart fluttered, then double-timed. Oh, the things they could do in this elevator. All she had to do was reach out to him. Lean against the solid planes of his chest. Kiss his skin and taste the man she remembered. But she wouldn’t. He’d left once before. He would again. Still, she respected him for being there to protect her.

  “I’m sorry. I should have told you where I was going.” She’d been wrong and needed to admit it.

  “Don’t let it happen again.” He punctuated the words with an overhand jab of his finger in her direction. “This isn’t a game. This is our lives. Yours and mine.”

  She could almost feel the heat from his glare, the fire from his tone. “I said I was sorry. It won’t happen again.”

  “Make damn sure it doesn’t.” He tightened his jaw, spitting the words out between clenched teeth. “I know you think you’re invincible. The police officer who graduated top in her academy then took on the D Street johns. But CT is different. Death is nothing but collateral damage to them.”

  Forcing herself not to say the words out loud, she still wondered how he knew about things she’d done since the last time they’d seen each other. Had Drake told him? Had Josh asked about her? Had all these years been a blur, and he’d been there all along? Watching over her just like her chauffeur? From a distance?

  No, Josh hadn’t been there. She would have felt his presence. Seen his walk. Melted in his powerful masculine scent. Knowing he’d thought about her was nice, though. She’d thought about him, too.

  Years ago, the night her life changed, he’d come when she’d called him, sobbing and hysterical that her parents had been killed in a plane crash. However, somewhere between that night and the funeral, something happened between them. What, she still didn’t know. Instead of staying beside her during the funeral, he’d sat at the back of the church looking like a shell of the guy she’d walked in the park with a few days before.

  After the burial, he’d shown up at her front door and said he was leaving town. Said to forget about him. Said something about her being young…too young. She remembered thinking they were barely two years apart in age. Then, he’d gotten into a taxi and disappeared from her life.

  She shivered with the memory of how it had felt to shut the door that day. When she’d turned around, her uncle had been standing in the living room doorway. He’d held her in his arms as she cried, telling her to let it out then move forward.

  Josh…Uncle Drake…a taxi—all wrapped up together then. Back in her life now. Déjà vu?

  Usually, the elevator trips from her private garage to her penthouse seemed fast. This time, the ride seemed long, tension palpable. Upward movement stopped, and without waiting for her to move, he charged across the bedroom and out the master bedroom doorway.

  She took off the robe she’d put on earlier when Ed and Darla had called then glanced at her pajama top and bottoms. Should she just get dressed and start her day of paperwork for the hotel or go back to bed? She was seriously considering the latter, because the clock on her nightstand showed it wasn’t even four a.m. yet.

  The slam of cabinet doors in the kitchen broke the peaceful silence.

  “Where’s the cutting board, Macki?” Josh shouted.

  The cutting board? She rushed to join him as the slam of doors and drawers continued. “Why do you need my cutting board?”

  “The cutting board you used last night. Where is it?” Bracing his hands on the granite, he raised his face to hers. “Ed gave me a clue. I need the cutting board to make sense of the message.”

  …

  Josh’s bloodhound instincts revved on high priority. He needed answers. Now. Easy or difficult, didn’t matter.

  Mackenzie’s silky pajamas skimmed across her curves as she opened the dishwasher then slid the cutting board in front of him on the kitchen island. Moving to stand at the end of the island, her gaze stayed riveted on the piece of plexiglass. Reading people was one of his specialties, and right now she was afraid. Afraid of what he was about to see. Why? Didn’t matter what was in the scene.

  Only the clue mattered. He had to know her weakness in order to protect her.

  “I don’t know what’s so important about this.” She raised her eyes toward him. “It’s just a photo I had embedded into the board.” She bit her lip and blinked.

  He looked down at the picture in the plexiglass. Sucked in a breath.

  Harbor Park. Summer. A light mist from the lake. Flowers shimmering in the glow from the boat lights reflecting off the water. His insides jerked as he gripped the board between his hands. Tighter and tighter. Memories bombarded him with the strength of iron.

  Him. Macki. A blue plaid blanket in the cover of junipers and holly bushes just past dusk. She smelled of peaches. Her hair was soft against his chest. Gentle kisses mingled with her soft sounds. Sounds that still came to him in the middle of the night sometimes. Love…one brief evening of love.

  God help them both. The devil had found a pathway to devastate OPAQUE. He was Macki’s weakness. He was the leverage CT would use against her. She was the leverage they’d use against Drake. And Drake would have to make the worst decision of his life. Save Macki? Or save OPAQUE?

  Josh would never regret their one evening of love. Never. But, what they’d done had just turned this assignment into a trap to drown everyone. Yet, no matter what happened in the next few days, he wouldn’t change a thing. Because the one true moment of paradise he’d ever had in his life was lying with Macki in the juniper and holly bushes, with the scent of flowers permeating their every move.

  “See? I told you it’s just a scene.” Her fingers trembled at the opposite edge of the board. “It’s Harbor Park…over by the marina. You wouldn’t recognize the place anymore… Why, they’ve—”

  He looked up into the same trusting eyes he’d seen that night so many years ago.

  “I remember. I remember a beautiful girl with auburn hair.” He touched her cheek as he pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “A yellow dress that slipped from her shoulders. And, when I cupped her in my hand”—he struggled against the feelings crashing in on him. His body tightened with his rising need—“I couldn’t believe someone so special would give herself to me.”

  Macki’s tiny whimper sounded fro
m across the counter in front of him as she covered her mouth with the tips of her fingers, her eyes filling with quiet tears. Slowly, he stepped around the end of the island. Without thinking, he lowered his head toward hers, and she raised her lips to his in return. Their kiss—the same, yet somehow different from young love—pulsed with life, and the intensity deepened. Her lips parted to take him in as his hands slipped her pajama top up and over her head, dropping it on the floor. The feel of her skin brushed against his chest.

  Cupping her breast in his hand felt like coming home. And, just like years ago, he once again glanced at the most precious thing he’d ever had. “You are so beautiful, Macki. So…” He stroked his thumb across the pebbling end. “…beautiful.”

  He wrapped his arm around her waist, lifting her upward until she stood on tiptoes, while lowering his mouth to taste the softness he held in his hand. She slipped her hand behind his head, holding him closer, giving him access, and his body’s craving devoured him. Stroking her fingers across his shoulders, she caressed with a rhythm meant to drive him crazy, her nails lightly grazing. She wasn’t a girl anymore. Macki was a woman. His woman.

  As he nuzzled her neck, he slid his palm lower, slipping beneath her silky pajama bottoms, sliding across her mound’s softness, slipping to her core as she arched into him and gave him everything he’d dreamed of for the past ten years. His insides exploded with each movement, until hot reasoning shot through his insides.

  This could be their new beginning. Their new life. They could become ghosts, just like Ed and Darla. Go away. Find a place. Disappear. Just the two of them. The two of them forever.

  No more past. No more danger. No more loneliness.

  Dropping her head against his shoulder, Macki’s nails dug into his skin as he felt her tense with his caresses. She sagged against him with release, and he held her close…closer. Her rapid breaths warmed his collarbone then slid up to his ear as she fumbled to undo the button on his jeans, and he reached to help her.

  “Oh, Josh. Why…why did you ever leave me?” she whispered. “Why?”

  Knee-jerk reaction catapulted him back to reality. What had she said? Asked? Something about why he…why he left. Inwardly groaning, he nudged her fingers from the still buttoned jeans as he opened his eyes and realized the mistake of the last few minutes. What had he done? Heaven help him…what had he done?

  Swallowing the choking lump in his throat, he regained his control while slowly lowering her back to her feet. “We can’t do this.”

  She held tight as he loosened his hold. “We? Or you?”

  “We can’t do this.” He pried her fingers from behind his neck then moved aside. Glancing downward, he picked up the silky pajama top from the floor, pressing it lightly into her hands.

  “Why are you pushing me away?” She clutched the top in front of her breasts. “Why?”

  “Look at us. We’re not that same couple who lay in the park.” Josh raked his hands through his hair. “I’m not the boy you knew from high school. I’m not even an average guy you might meet at a local restaurant for dinner. You have no idea who I am. Or what I’ve done.”

  She slipped into the pajama top then placed her hand on his arm. “I’m not the same, either. But together we can—”

  “No. No, we can’t.” Walking out of her hold, he moved to the other side of the island, to the cutting board, to protector mode. He had a job to complete before he escaped back into his secret, solitary world again. And finish he would. Without any further complications.

  “Too much has happened in our lives. Too many years.” Josh felt the tightness in his throat. He needed to regain his professionalism. “Let’s talk about the cutting board again.”

  “Not now.” Tears spilled down her cheeks. She steadied herself against the counter then the wall as she headed toward her bedroom. “I’ll be back after my shower. After I dress. I’ll be back.” She closed the door behind her.

  He stormed across the living room, slammed open the patio door, and stepped onto the balcony, kicking the chaise lounge against the wall instead of slamming his fist into it. Bracing his hands wide apart on the railing, he noticed the first vestige of dawn break across the skyline.

  Watching the sun glint off the windows of thirty-foot-tall buildings, he felt his insides shudder. Once the danger to her was gone, he’d leave, so she could find a good man to hold her every night. A good man to marry. A good man to father her children.

  “A good man…” he whispered. “Not someone like me.”

  He lowered his head, covering his face with his hands as his shoulders shook with raw emotion.

  No matter how many assignments he volunteered for. No matter how many people he saved. No matter how many bullets and knifings and beatdowns he endured keeping CT at bay, he’d never be good enough for Macki.

  She’d said it herself. Like father. Like son.

  He ground his palms against the corners of his eyes then swiped his hands aside. Moisture still clung to his eyelids. He swiped again. And again. His life was one beatdown after another. Raising his face toward the heat of the rising sun, he gripped his fists.

  Before this was over, Mackenzie Baudin would spit on his family. And him.

  Chapter Eleven

  Even with her tears gushing down her cheeks, the shower felt good. The gentle warmth seemed to wash away all vestiges of what had happened moments ago, years ago. The pulsing water tapped against Mackenzie’s back, easing the tension, until she finally flipped on the overhead showerhead and took a seat on the tiled bench at the end of the double enclosure.

  Josh was right…they’d both changed. Trying to pretend life was still the same walk in the park was like pretending that in the midst of the hundred-plus humidity-filled weather, there might be a blizzard. Nothing and no one could make that happen.

  Just like nothing and no one could take her back to thinking bad things didn’t happen to good people. Uncalled-for bad things happened every single day. And, from the strength and character and hundred-yard stare she’d seen in Josh’s eyes, she imagined he’d seen even worse than she had.

  Still, she wondered why he’d left in the first place, but the sooner she realized he’d never divulge that secret, the better off she’d be. So, she wouldn’t push to see what made him run. And she also wouldn’t keep living in the past. If this was the way he wanted their relationship—distant—then distant was what she’d be.

  After drying her hair, throwing on some clothes, and popping on a dab of face lotion and a swipe of lipstick, she opened her bedroom door. The scent of strong, freshly made coffee filled her senses even before she noticed him, shaved and dressed, standing by the patio door. From his wet hair, she surmised they’d both had a chance to cool off.

  “Who knows what this picture means to us?” Walking toward the kitchen island, his get-the-facts tone reiterated his assignment-only mindset.

  “No one.”

  “Someone must know, because the clue was that CT knew your weakness. That the cutting board didn’t lie.” He tapped his finger against the plexiglass. “Someone must know.”

  She’d never told anyone about the photo she’d taken the day after Josh left Riverfalls. With her life falling apart after the plane crash, plus a broken heart from Josh’s leaving, she’d needed to get out. When she found herself at Harbor Park, she’d slipped through the juniper and holly bushes then cried herself to sleep. Hours later she woke, snapped a photo with her cell phone, and went home.

  Since Drake had thought she’d be safer living in the Hotel MacKenzie penthouse, rather than at the house she and her parents had called home for over fifteen years, she’d packed up what she wanted to bring with her and moved. That was also when Ed the chauffeur had been initiated into her life, along with a private garage in the hotel’s basement.

  “I swear no one knows about the photo or what the cutting board means to me.” She winced when she accidently brushed his arm. It might be harder to stop caring about him than she’d thought. Bu
t she would.

  Josh continued to tap his fingers on the plexiglass. “Okay, let’s come at this from a different angle. Who’s been in the penthouse since you’ve had the board?”

  She placed her hands on her hips. “You’ve got to be kidding. I’ve had this for the past five years.” She jabbed her finger right alongside Josh’s. “That’s a lot of people who’ve come and gone through my front door.”

  His brow furrowed. “You had this while Blake was still alive? While he lived here?”

  She nodded. “I don’t remember telling you about him.”

  “Did he know why you had the cutting board?”

  She nodded again. Guess they were going to ignore her statement.

  Josh shook his head. “He had to be livid.”

  “Blake couldn’t care less about you. All Blake cared about was Blake.”

  “I doubt that.”

  Time she let it be known she had boundaries for living, too, past and present. She slapped her palm on the granite and braced herself. “You want to know what I’ve done the past ten years? Well, first I finished college. Dean’s List. I learned everything there was to know about running a hotel. Sure, I dated a few guys. None of them had what I was looking for, though.”

  She paused. Considered how much to share. Whether to let him see how deeply she’d been affected by his leaving. Her ego said to keep her hurt under lock. Why? She’d already walked past the pain. He was welcome to hear everything. “Of course…no one can live up to a memory. You see, deep inside, I kept waiting for you to come back from who knows where. Waited for even a phone call.

  “When I joined the police force, I tossed your memory aside. Concentrated on my career. Maybe an occasional dinner date. Five years ago, Blake offered a pretend engagement to shut people up about me not being married. Said I could call it off anytime I wanted.” She remembered how she’d jumped at the chance. Looking back, that had been a weak moment, but one that suited a purpose nonetheless. “All he asked in return was for me to stand by his side as he climbed the ranks. I accepted. After all, he was eight years older. We were both mature enough to handle the so-called relationship.”