Dead Reckoning

by Ronie Kendig

Reece's expression hardened. “Everything's going on.”

  The edge in his words pushed her back. He’d never talked or looked at her like that. What … what had changed? What was on that thing the woman had shown him? Or was this about something different? Maybe her and Khalid? Was this woman someone special to him, someone who reminded him that Shiloh was just a guppy? Did he think he loved her, only to realize he didn’t? She eyed him and swallowed the swell of dread.

  “Kit, take her upstairs.” He started toward the back of the house.

  Confused at the way he took charge, the way he ordered the woman who owned this house around, Shiloh stared after him.

  “He's right, love.” A strong Irish brogue sailed through the woman's words. “You should shower and change. Never know what will happen next.” Kit guided her up the stairs to a room with a bed and private bath. “You don’t look much bigger than me, so you’ll have a change of clothes. I’ll mend your back after you’ve showered.”

  Despair clung to Shiloh. She nodded, barely remembering the pain and stickiness in her back. Kit lifted a robe from a hook outside the bathroom, spun the knobs in the shower, set towels on the bathtub ledge, and then turned back to her. Brown eyes took her in, filled with uncertainty and … something else. “I’m sorry about your fiancé.”

  Surprised the woman knew so much, Shiloh tried not to react.

  A smile slipped into Kit's beautiful face. “He's the best. He’ll take good care of you.”

  “He hates me, I think.” Even to Shiloh, it sounded so unreasonable, but something had changed with Reece. But still, she had no business talking about it with this woman. She accepted the robe. “Thanks.” With that, she strode into the bathroom and shut the door.

  Relief flooded her at being alone. Alone with her thoughts. Alone with her pain.

  She slipped off her jeans. Then whimpered and cringed as she peeled off the shirt, the dried blood pricking her back with pain. Beneath the warm water, she pressed her hands against the white tile. What had she done? It surprised her how much she wanted to make this right, to see the smile that sparkled in his eyes even when he wasn’t actually smiling. Desperately, she ached to have the strength of his support and feel like he had her back.

  What did he have that she didn’t? How could she be as strong and confident? Whatever it was, she wanted it.

  God.

  Anything but that.

  22

  WHAT’RE YOU DOING?”

  Reece set the phone back on the cradle and turned calmly toward Kit.

  “Don’t give me that innocent goat look!” She stomped across the tiled floors, hands on her hips. “You’re a better agent than letting some girl get silly over you!”

  “It's …” He looked back to the paper where he’d written his notes, feeling helpless. No, desperate. “Don’t worry. I’m taking care of it.”

  She cursed. “It's true—you’ve fallen for her.” Kit slammed the metal tea kettle onto a gas burner. “How can you be so daft?”

  He spun to her. “I said I’m taking care of it!” Then her slip of the tongue registered. “Wait. Who's talking?”

  Her brows knitted together. Kit covered her mouth, her eyes glossing as she shook her head. Finally, she slumped and braced herself against the counter. “Did you learn nothing from Chloe?”

  He stalked to her. “Tell me who's talking?”

  “You’ve compromised her safety and yours.” Sorrow plowed into her sweet face. “They’ll pull you, Reece.”

  “No, they won’t. We’re in too deep.” He returned to the table. Knuckles against the wood, he stared at his notes. The plan was there. Everything in place. Only a few more calls. “I just have to protect the codes, make sure they aren’t tampered with. I’m too close.”

  “Yes, precisely.”

  He snapped up his head. “Not to her, to the truth.”

  “There's no difference. She's directly connected to the truth. Getting involved with a mark is a primary tactical error.”

  Reece flung the pen across the room. “Get off my back, Kit. I know what I’m doing.” But did he? Why did everything feel like it was spinning out of control, right through his fingers?

  “Do you love her?”

  “No.” The answer flew out and gave him away. The blunt force of a baseball bat against his chest wouldn’t have knocked the wind out of him the way her question had. How could Kit, in less than an hour, know what he felt for Shiloh? He stared at his hastily scrawled notes. The flight numbers. Aliases. Times. If he went through with this … He started for the stairs. “I need to clean up.”

  “She thinks you hate her.”

  He stopped at the threshold between the kitchen and living room but didn’t turn around. “It won’t matter.”

  Kit's words haunted him as he trudged up the stairs. His plan had worked. Shiloh thought he hated her. But knowing that she believed it cut deeper than he could’ve imagined. As he walked past her room, he heard the steady cadence of water and music …

  No. Not music. Crying.

  His eyes closed. God, this is too much. Finally able to fall in love, have that love returned—he wasn’t quite one hundred percent on that—and he has to surrender her. Walk away from the first ounce of joy he’d felt in years.

  “What’re you going to do?”

  He straightened at the sound of Kit's voice behind him. Then his shoulders sagged. “Don’t worry about it.”

  “Reece …”

  “Don’t.” He took a step.

  “My sister's death should’ve taught you more.”

  Anger stabbed through him. “It's a lesson I’ll never repeat.”

  In his room, he showered and changed. This wasn’t the first time he’d had to enact such an extreme plan, but it was the first time he felt as if he’d cut out his heart.

  It had to be done. Once Shiloh was safe, he’d ghost himself. Then hack out a living in the Alps or maybe the northern Rockies. Anywhere he didn’t have to think or feel.

  On the edge of the bed, he made one final call.

  “Go ahead.”

  “Where are you?” Reece reached into the dresser, slid a panel aside, and withdrew a set of bona fides.

  “It's November. Where do you think I am?” Good. He counted on the man's predictability.

  “I need a favor.”

  “I’m your man.”

  Reece delivered the flight information. “Make sure this happens.”

  “Got it.”

  He ended the call and tossed himself against the bed. Eyes shut, he let himself relive the kiss he’d shared with Shiloh on the beach. What he wouldn’t give for a thousand more nights like that. He groaned. She’d awakened too much in him.

  Female voices pulled him from his despair. He stuffed his arms into a navy fisherman's sweater and adjusted the white T-shirt beneath it. Best to just get on with this. Not think or dwell on it. Smoothing back his short crop, he headed downstairs.

  From the foyer he could see through the darkened living room into the kitchen. Shiloh sat at the table, a white mug in her hands. Kit leaned against the counter stirring a steaming pot.

  Laughter shot through the room.

  “You’ve got to be joking,” Kit said.

  Shiloh giggled and shook her head. Her reddish-brown tresses were dry and hung in loose waves. So beautiful … like autumn leaves of amber and gold. Tilting the mug against her lips, she took a drink. “What else did he do?”

  They were talking about him! He strode into the kitchen and took a mug from the cabinet. At the stove, he eyed Kit and gave her a warning look as he poured a cup of hot tea.

  “He's a big lug, stiff and tough.” Kit chuckled. “But he's also brilliant.”

  Reece sipped the tea. He singed the tip of his tongue and hissed.

  “Or maybe not.”

  He glared at her and joined Shiloh at the table. “We head out in a couple of hours.”

  “Wow, already?” She toyed with her napkin, not meeting his gaze. “Is it safe?�
�

  “Everything's set. Kit will take you to the airstrip, where you’ll catch your flight.”

  “What about you?” Shiloh set down her mug.

  “Separate flights.”

  Was he doing the right thing? It made sense. Sacrificing what he felt for her would ensure her safety. Her words about how her father's career had endangered her life gnawed at the core of his being. He would do anything to make sure Shiloh had another day to see the sunrise over the ocean. To make sure she wasn’t hurt. It would be the death of their relationship. She’d never speak to him after tonight.

  “Why are we splitting up?”

  “You’re easier to spot together.” Kit set bowls of a yellowish substance before them. “Eat your custard before it's cold.”

  Shiloh nodded as she lifted a steaming spoonful to her mouth and held it in midair. “Then we’ll hook back up, right?” Her blue-grey eyes seemed to search his very soul.

  His heart tripped over the next few beats. “When it's safe.”

  “Then we can go in and stop this. Put the men who killed Khalid and his father behind bars.” Shiloh's voice edged with a fierceness he hadn’t heard before.

  Part of him wished he could hammer the stuffing out of Khalid Khan. He’d knowingly put her in danger with his connections to Allah's Sword. And because of that, Reece had to take extreme measures to protect her.

  Same thing with Chloe. She had felt abandoned. Her brokenness turned to rage and a dangerous determination that got her killed. He had to stop Shiloh from taking that same path. There was only one way to protect her. That conviction cemented his plans as they finished off their desserts.

  Shiloh would hate him to the end of her days.

  Sacrifice always has a cost.

  “Why don’t you two go in the living room and relax?” Kit stood and retrieved their bowls of custard. “I’m going to clean up in here.”

  Suspicion crept into Reece's mind. Kit seemed too anxious to move them out of the room. What was she up to?

  Shiloh rose. “The custard was wonderful. Thank you for the food, the clothes.” She smoothed a hand over the pale pink sweater. The tiny fibers seemed to tickle her face. Stunning. Beautiful.

  A tiny sliver of doubt cracked his resolve. God forgive me if I ’m wrong.

  “I haven’t had guests in a while. It's nice to do something for friends.” Kit waved them out. “Now go on you two. I’ll be there in a minute.”

  Reece hung back, scowling at the woman he’d trusted with their lives. Why was she so anxious to see them out of the kitchen? If she was double crossing them …

  “Don’t give me that look when I know full well what you’re planning.”

  He drew himself straight, his hands itching to rout out what she was up to. “I’d kill anyone who tried to hurt her.”

  Kit's eyes twinkled, tears forming in the corners. “I know.” She sniffled and rolled her eyes to blink away the tears. “And I’m so glad, Reece. So glad you’ve found someone to love and who loves you back.” A tear dashed down her cheek. “I just hope you aren’t royally screwing this up.”

  Love me back? “Just stick to the plan. Let me worry about the rest.” He stomped out of the kitchen, his conscience agitating her words. Shiloh might hate his guts for the rest of her life, but at least she would be alive to do it. He couldn’t say that for Chloe.

  “Every man I’ve trusted has betrayed me.” Shiloh saw the startled look on Reece's face and smiled as they sat in the living room. “Except you.”

  He moved to the window, nudged aside the curtain, and peeked out at the street below.

  Shiloh tensed, anxious to smooth the ripple that had entered their relationship. “Reece, I don’t know what I did, but want to apologize—”

  He held up a hand. “Don’t.” A hazy blue light outlined his face, an echo of the streetlight. His jaw muscle bounced. “It's not necessary.” He said one thing, but the cool distance between them said another.

  “I see.” A strange feeling surged through her chest. Jealousy?

  He let go of the curtain and met her gaze. “What does that mean?”

  The back of her neck heated. “Nothing. It's just been a long day.” She brushed the hair from her face, determined not to be catty. “I’ll go upstairs so you and Kit can be alone.”

  As she crossed the room, Reece hooked her arm.

  Shiloh closed her eyes, knowing she’d crumble in a flash if she had to face him.

  “Look at me.” Emotion kneaded his husky words.

  She braved the stormy blue eyes that had always left her weak in the knees.

  Desperation tore into his rugged face. “I wish I could make you understand …” Something ominous haunted his words.

  A strange, sinking feeling pushed against her waning courage. “What's wrong?” The way he stared scared her. It wasn’t the confident, powerful man she admired.

  “They’re here!” Kit hurried toward the door, swinging a coat over her shoulders. “Come, Shiloh. We’re short on time.”

  Reece cupped her face. “I don’t hate you.”

  Her chin trembled as she melted at his reassurance.

  His brow knotted. He hesitated, then pressed his lips to hers. Just as quick, he drew back. “I love you, Shiloh. Don’t forget that. No matter what happens.”

  Stunned, she stared after him as he jogged to the back of the house. Out the rear door.

  I love you. Had he really said that?

  “Shiloh, please,” Kit prompted, her eyes glassy, her voice cracked.

  Something niggled at the back of her mind as she rushed into the back seat of the sedan out front. Shrouded in ebony, they spirited through the night toward the airstrip. The whishing of the tires against wet pavement lulled her senses. Had Reece really said he loved her?

  She glanced over her shoulder, hoping to see a car pull in behind them. “Where did he go?”

  A wistful expression took root in Kit's face. “Always it's the mission with him.”

  Mission. Right. Get on a plane. “I don’t know what to do when I get there.” Her imagination leapt to life. “I mean, the media has my picture all over the news because of what happened at the train station. How will I get back into Mumbai without tipping my hand?”

  Kit covered her hand. “Trust him.”

  I love you, Shiloh. The words bobbed on the stormy sea of her life like a beacon. She knew he meant those precious words. In a different way and on a different level than Khalid. Or maybe it was that she returned Reece's love.

  The thought stalled her mind and body. Did she? Did she really … ? She closed her eyes. Oh, yes. I do love him! And she didn’t tell him before he left. Is that why he tore out of the house like an arctic wind? Because she hadn’t confirmed her feelings for him? An ache wove around her chest, tightening.

  “We’re here.” Kit turned to her and handed her a passport. “The plane is waiting to taxi.” She indicated toward a small jet looming off to the side, wing lights blinking back at her. “Climb aboard, present your ticket and passport. They’ll clear it. Speak to no one until you land.”

  Shiloh nodded.

  “And don’t worry. You’ll be fine.”

  The wake and roar of the plane's engines stirred the cool Parisian air. Shiloh tucked her chin against the wind as she shut the door.

  “Shiloh?”

  She pivoted.

  Kit stared at her over the hood of the car. The woman hesitated, looked at the plane, then down at the car.

  “Yes?” Shiloh asked, suddenly feeling very off -center.

  “Just remember, sometimes he does stupid things believing they’re for the best.”

  “What?”

  A howl kicked up in the wind. Shiloh glanced toward the jet, surprised to find a flight attendant approaching. “Ma’am, we need to get under way.”

  Shiloh met her, handing off the ticket and passport, remembering the instructions not to say anything. The flight attendant stomped back to the plane, ripping the ticket and checki
ng the passport. She then escorted Shiloh to a seat near the door.

  No doubt the setup on the plane was intended to bypass security cameras and normal security checkpoints. Still, she wondered in a day and age like this how Kit and the others had managed to get her on a plane so easily.

  Once the plane leveled off high above France ten minutes later, Shiloh settled into the cozy leather seat. Cozy? No, cozy had been on the rooftop as she lay in Reece's arms.

  She missed him already. But at least she had his words to keep her company. I love you. Words she never thought would carry the weight his had. Weight that anchored them in her heart and soul. They were on separate paths right now, if only for a moment.

  The cabin steward delivered her a glass of water with a snack. Still full from Kit's custard, Shiloh didn’t eat the snack. The water, however, she guzzled, surprised at how thirsty she felt.

  As she recapped the bottle her head swam. She blinked, overcome by sleepiness. It was nighttime. Being sleepy would be normal. But why did she feel as if she hadn’t slept in days? Why was her vision swimming? She blinked again. The water bottle caught her eye. Oh no.

  Her head bobbed.

  Darkness.

  Arms and legs weighted, Shiloh struggled to break the fog of sleep. She moaned and rolled her head, willing her eyes to open. Bright light smacked into her vision. She clenched her eyes and groaned.

  “Miss?” Someone nudged her shoulder. “We’re landing. You’ll need to set your chair upright.”

  Shiloh shook her head and tried to lift it. Finally able to move, she pulled herself up and propped her elbows on her knees and cradled her head in her hands.

  “You okay?”

  She jerked toward the masculine voice. Pain shot through her temples.

  A grey-haired man smiled at her. “Probably shouldn’t take more than the prescribed dosage of Dramamine.”

  “I didn’t.” Again, she shook her head, this time feeling more focused.

  “I am a doctor, and I know when someone is coming out of a drug fog.”

  Shiloh stared at him, understanding lighting across her brain. Drugged? Why would she be drugged? Her gaze snapped to the window. Lush green acreage spread out below the belly of the plane. Green. Too green.