How could she possibly be okay after what she just learned? “No,” she said as her eyes met his.
“I’m so sorry.” Worry spread across his face and concern danced in his eyes.
If he was scared—shouldn’t she be petrified? She started to speak, but Jake beat her to it.
“Dustin’s good. Really good.” He inhaled deeply. “This isn’t his normal gig, though. Whoever hired him must be paying a substantial fee.”
“Enough.” Michael’s voice commanded the room. He left Kate’s side to face Jake.
Jake stood up and gave Kate an apologetic shoulder shrug.
She tapped her fingers on her legs, not sure what to do with her hands. Or her body, for that matter. She couldn’t sit or stand. She was losing her mind. She began massaging her temples as nervous apprehension built inside her. Was a murdering ex-Navy Seal really stalking her? And whom should she be more worried about—the sniper or the man or woman who was paying the sniper?
“Do you think that Nathan’s our prime suspect?” Her question broke the mounting tension that had built up in the silent room.
“I have no idea,” Michael replied in a low voice.
“I assume you’re canceling the auction dates on Friday?” Connor asked.
“Of course,” Michael responded without hesitation.
“You would probably want to kill me if I asked you to keep them as planned.” Jake squinted his eyes as if anticipating a punch to the face.
Michael snorted. “This isn’t the time to be making jokes.”
“Hear me out for a second.” Jake held his palms up, showing he was not looking for a fight.
Kate stared at Michael, wondering how he would respond to Jake. It didn’t take long for her to realize he had no intention of considering whatever Jake planned on saying. He stood tense and focused, with a clamped jaw and fists at his sides. He was ready to box.
At least I’m thinking about you two crazy guys right now instead of . . .
“Don’t even suggest it.” Michael glared at Jake with dark eyes.
“That we use Kate as bait?”
Kate studied the two men, knowing which one of them would win.
“Dustin won’t expect Kate to be out in public after the stunt he pulled. It will piss him off that Kate isn’t scared. If we show Dustin we aren’t up for playing his games, then maybe he’ll make an uncalculated and irrational move—and we can get him.” Jake crossed his arms, perhaps in an attempt to stand up to Michael, whose testosterone and anger were oozing throughout the room. “He obviously wants a challenge. He practically all but guaranteed zero access to Kate by focusing the sniper on her. I don’t know what his deal is, but I do know that he’ll never expect Kate to be on that date. He’ll screw up, and we can get him.”
Kate felt sorry for whatever enemies Michael might encounter in the future. But his protectiveness for her was still blowing her mind. Why was he so concerned about losing her, when he didn’t even want her? She quickly shook her head. Get your head in the game, Kate. As she stared at the showdown between Jake and Michael, anger began to build inside her. Would they even ask her opinion on the matter?
“So, you think we can draw Dustin out?” Connor looked a little too casual as he sat in a recliner, leaning back and crossing his ankle at his knee.
“Hell, no,” Michael shouted.
“Do I get a say in any of this?” Kate raised her hand in the air and stepped between the two large men. There was a visible shift in Michael’s stance when she spoke. He shifted from a beast to something softer . . . like a cage fighter. “As scared as I am, hiding away in Michael’s fortress will only prolong things. Jake is right about that. And I really want this over. I want to know who hired Dustin. I want my life back.” Her voice shook a little.
Michael took a step away from Kate and gripped the back of his neck with his large hand, his forearm tense. “Maybe his mission has only been to scare you. If he wanted to hurt you—or even kidnap you—then he wouldn’t be playing such games.”
“Understanding the mind of a lunatic is not so easy,” Connor reminded them. “He enjoys the hunt. The challenge. Remember, he used to scour the globe for terrorists, which was not so easy.”
Connor was now on the receiving end of Michael’s icy stare, and he leaned back a little farther in the chair. Michael’s blue eyes could have frosted glass. “This discussion ends here.” Layers of heated anger dripped from his voice, and he walked out of the living room and down the hall.
Kate heard a door slam. While the discussion was far from over, in her estimation, she realized Michael needed to cool off. With time, perhaps he would come around to his senses.
Or maybe he was right.
Chapter Seventeen
“What’s he doing here?” Kate folded her arms and stared at the man who had lied to her for twenty-seven years.
“Kate, please, I am so sorry.” David Adams entered the kitchen, moving with cautious steps toward his daughter.
She jumped off the barstool and took a step back, her coffee mug still in hand. “I don’t want to see you. Not yet.” She bit her lip as Michael entered from the living room, wearing faded denim jeans and a soft blue T-shirt that matched his eyes. “Why is he here?” With a trembling hand, she set down her coffee mug and strode past her father to face her steely protector.
“Jake insisted he come.” Michael shrugged at her. “David, maybe we should all sit down and talk.”
Kate’s face was hot. Fever hot. Her anger with her father ran deeper than even she had suspected. “David.” She didn’t have it in her to call him dad. With a feeling of satisfaction, she saw him flinch.
He rubbed his jaw as he followed the group of men and his daughter into the living area. “Kate, I’ve been trying to reach you.”
“How could you? How could you lie to me all these years? You made me think Charlotte was a place of pain for you because Mom died giving birth to me. All these years, I believed that I killed my mother.” She touched her chest, fighting to breathe, to keep speaking. “I’ve felt guilty for Mom’s death my entire life.” Don’t cry. Don’t give in. She sank into one of the brown leather recliners and pressed her palms against her knees, bracing for support. She didn’t want to break down in front of Michael, Jake, and Connor. She had to find her composure—she was unraveling and fast.
David moved with lightning speed to kneel in front of her. “I was trying to protect you. I didn’t know if her murder was premeditated or not. Who kills a pregnant woman? I worried about your safety, which is why I didn’t want you to come to Charlotte. I begged you not to come.” His voice was hoarse and his eyes a little red.
“Maybe if you had told me the truth, I would have been more prepared! Now I have some lunatic stalking me.” She gulped and steadied her gaze on Michael, who was standing a few feet away with arms crossed. He was staring steadily at her father.
“Just come home with me. You’ll be safe, I promise,” her father pleaded. He touched the arm of the recliner but was careful to avoid contact with Kate.
“I’m not going to be safe anywhere, now.” She stood up, unable to stomach the proximity to her dad. He was a stranger to her.
“You have to trust me. Come home.” He pushed up off the ground to stand, but almost lost his balance.
Kate turned her back on everyone and approached the closed blinds. Just outside the balcony doors, Dustin Scott had focused a sniper rifle on her chest only the night before. “I want you to go,” she said in a broken voice.
“I agree.”
Kate turned around to face Michael, glad he was on her side.
“I just have one question for your father before he leaves.” Jake reached for a piece of paper that was lying on the side table by the couch. “Why did Nathan Williams call you last night?”
Kate stood still for a moment and turned around, allowing Jake’s words to wash over her. She noticed the muscles in Michael’s face twitch just enough to showcase his own disbelief at what Jake had said.
&
nbsp; Kate shifted her attention back to her father, who appeared to have aged since she last saw him in New York. His forehead was riddled with lines, and his cheeks were a sallow color. “How—how did you know he called me? Are you tapping my phone?” His voice deepened with obvious anger.
“Not yours, but Nathan’s.” Jake handed David the list of calls that had been made from Nathan’s personal cell phone. “He was on the phone with you for three minutes around eight last night.”
David shoved the paper back in Jake’s hand and pushed his fingers against his forehead. “Nathan called me because he was worried about Kate. He told me that you all showed up at his office.”
“When was the last time you’d talked to him, before that?” Jake inquired.
“I can’t remember, but it has been years.”
Her father looked defeated. Rundown. Kate almost felt bad for him. She knew he was only trying to protect her, but she had spent her life feeling guilty every time her birthday came around. “You don’t think Nathan had anything to do with Mom’s death?”
“I told your pals here,” he said, waving his hand in the air, “that your mom mentioned being followed, but I don’t think whoever followed her—if she was even being followed, for that matter—killed her.” He lowered his head. “If I had only gotten to the house a few minutes sooner, I could have prevented her death.”
“Or been killed yourself.” Connor made his voice known.
David lifted his head to meet Connor’s eyes. “Her necklace was worth a fortune. I scared off the burglars with my arrival, and they must have grabbed the first thing of value that came to hand. The cops found the broken clasp on the floor.”
“And if the murder was premeditated, couldn’t the killer have taken the necklace as a souvenir?” Jake tipped his head; his FBI hat had never seemed more prominent.
Her father had no response.
“You keep changing your story. One minute you whisk Kate away from North Carolina out of fear of whoever murdered her mother, and the next minute, you insist that it was just a robbery gone wrong.” Jake took a step forward and folded his arms. The muscles of his biceps bulged. “Which is it?”
Kate released her breath. If she held it any longer, she might have passed out. She looked down at the hand that rested on her forearm. Was Michael trying to soothe her? He was . . . almost. “Dad?”
“Kate, just trust me. I am better suited to keep you safe. New York is where you belong,” he said with a shaky voice.
“I can’t leave. Not yet.” She took a small step closer to Michael.
Her dad studied them, and then started for the elevator doors. “I’m not leaving Charlotte until you do. Call me when you come to your senses,” he said, loudly enough for her to hear before he disappeared behind the silver doors.
“Should we have told him about Dustin?” she asked, peering up at Michael.
“No. He would have had a heart attack.” Michael moved his hand to her shoulder.
“He’s probably confused about everything, which is why he can’t get his story straight,” she decided—hoped.
“Maybe,” Jake replied.
Michael’s hand lifted from Kate’s shoulder at the sound of his ringing cell phone. He reached into his pocket and studied the caller ID. “I have to go.” He placed the unanswered phone back in his pocket. “Can you manage without me for an hour or two?”
“Do you have a work meeting?” Kate asked. She must be throwing his entire work schedule off balance.
“Yeah.”
For some reason, she felt that he was lying. Maybe it was because it took him a few seconds too long to answer, or because of the way his body became rigid at her question. “I’ll be fine with these guys watching me.”
He nodded and left. She stared down at her hands, not sure what to do with her time.
“Kate, there’s something we need to talk about.”
She looked up at Jake from beneath long eyelashes. Her eyes glistened with the tears that threatened to challenge her composure. “Yeah?”
***
Kate hadn’t spoken to Michael all day.
By the time he returned to the loft, Kate took notice of his obvious exhaustion. His shoulders were slouched forward—unusual for him—and his eyes were a bit bloodshot.
She didn’t dare approach him and found herself feeling a bit afraid that he might see through her, as well. He might realize she was keeping something from him.
She spent her afternoon eavesdropping on Jake, Connor, and Michael as they studied the movements of Erick Jensen and Nathan Williams and followed up on leads with the FBI in regards to Dustin Scott. But she didn’t feel like involving herself in their conversation. Their talk of intelligence and software was a bit over her head. Still, every once in a while, she crept down the hall and stopped just shy of view from the large living area, to catch up on the details.
On her fourth time down the hall, her ears perked up.
“Michael, I understand you don’t want Kate on her date, and she postponed her date earlier today, but I think you should still go on your date,” Jake suggested.
She couldn’t see Michael’s reaction, but she could envision his body tensing and his facial muscles growing taut. His body gave away his emotions far more than his words, particularly when the emotion was anger or lust.
“Why the hell would I do that?”
Jake didn’t respond right away. Kate pushed her hands against the wall and moved her body a little closer to the edge. Still, she kept enough distance to avoid being seen.
“Let Dustin believe you are going about as business as usual. Since you won’t let me parade Kate around, at least, let him think that you aren’t worried about him.”
“Why do I care what Dustin thinks?”
“We have to play his game a little, or we won’t win. We can’t beat a psychopath if we sit back and twiddle our thumbs.”
“You think I am sitting here twiddling my Goddamn thumbs?”
She imagined Michael on his feet now, staring down at Jake with that man-gone-wild look he seemed to adopt all too frequently these days.
“Come on, Michael. This is my job. This is what I am trained for. We are talking about Dustin Scott. He’s been on FBI and Homeland Security’s radar for a while now. We need to catch the SOB.” There was a pause. “If anyone understands this, it should be you. You spend your life helping the government catch scumbags like him.”
“You think whoever hired him is a terrorist?” Disbelief echoed in his voice.
“No, but next week he might be working with ISIS or freaking Vladimir Putin for all we know. He needs to be stopped.”
“Don’t make me regret asking you for help. I will not let you use Kate.”
Kate placed her hand over her mouth as shock plowed its way through each of her organs before slamming into her heart.
Can I really help bring down a traitor to the United States?
“I’m not asking you to put yourself out there,” Jake emphasized his words, elongating the syllables for dramatic flair.
Kate heard a shuffle of feet. She took a nervous step back.
“Michael, Jake has a point.”
It was Connor. He was usually the quiet one in the room. But every once in a while he spoke up, his words slicing the tension in the air—or creating new waves of it.
“I need to think. It has been a long day. I’m gonna lie down a couple hours. Wake me if you have news.”
She hurried back to her room and shut the door behind her. She needed to give Jake an answer, and she needed to do it while Michael was sleeping.
But what would she say?
***
“Do you have an answer for me?” Jake asked in a low voice, standing as soon as he saw Kate approach the kitchen table.
“You wear glasses?” she asked, avoiding the question.
He smiled and removed the black rimmed glasses from his face. “Only when I have been staring at a computer screen for hours.”
“Where’s Connor?” she asked while taking a seat at the table. She tapped her fingers on the hard oak.
He sat back down and leaned back in his chair. “Tailing Nathan.”
“Oh.” She slid her hands into her lap, feeling like a kid in the principal’s office. “I’ve thought about your proposal.” She took in a nervous breath and trained her eyes on the table. “I’ll do what you think is best, but Michael is going to flip.”
“I’ll take the heat. I can handle it.” His voice was calm.
“I don’t want him angry with you.” She moved her hand to her mouth and examined him. He looked every inch as intimidating as Michael. Well, almost.
“Trust me, everything will work out. This is my job.” He stretched his arm out and reached for her hand. With his touch, she felt calmer. Safe.
When in fact he was putting her in danger.
“What was that?” he asked as his body straightened.
Kate tilted her head in the direction of the sound. Her shoulders slouched forward, feeling Michael’s pain—the pain he wouldn’t share with her. “He’s having a nightmare.” She started to stand.
“I’ll handle it.” Jake motioned for her to sit back down.
He left the room. A few minutes later, she heard a commotion coming from down the hall. And then something broke. A lamp, maybe.
“You okay?” she shrieked when Jake came back in the kitchen a few minutes later, with a bloody lip.
“Yeah.” He grabbed a paper towel, wet it, and brought it to his lip.
“Is Michael okay?” her voice was stitched with worry.
“He will be.”
Chapter Eighteen
When Michael entered the living room dressed in gray suit pants that were tailored to his body with perfection, Kate had to hold her breath. The luxurious material fit him in just the right way. Her eyes traveled the length of his body, slipping below his hips and moving only slowly back up to his face.
It was Friday. Date night. She tried to fight the odd feelings that swirled around in her stomach. Worrying about Michael going on a date with the gorgeous Dallas girl should have been the last thing on her mind.
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