by Beth Rhodes
On the counter beside the fridge, John lifted the lid to the cookie jar and reached in.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
He didn’t let go of the thick cranberry, chocolate, and oatmeal cookie as he turned to grin at his baby sister. “Rachel, Rachel, Rachel,” he said, surprised to find that she’d grown a good six inches. Shocked was a better word for it. And completely dismayed that she was this gorgeous young lady.
Not a kid anymore.
He was staring, and he knew it. But he’d been fifteen when she was born, and from that first day, he’d always had this special spot inside of him—for her. Rachel ran and threw herself into his arms, hugging him so hard around the middle. “Hey, baby girl.”
Drawing back, she looked up into his face and then threw a punch, directly into his stomach.
With an oomph, he almost laughed. “What was that for?”
“Quit staying away so long.” She scowled, and behind them both, Emily hummed. “See? Your new girlfriend agrees.”
“She’s not my girlfriend.” John pulled his sister back into a hug and kissed the top of her head. “Emily, this is my sister Rachel. Rachel, this is the best shooter Hawk Elite has had on the team. The best in the entire country—”
“Not.” Emily scowled, embarrassed by his compliment.
“Total badass.”
“John Paul Vega,” his mother snapped, just like old times, his three names in staccato succession.
Heat rose on his neck. “Sorry. She is awesome, though.”
Rachel sent Emily an assessing, fifteen-year-old look—completely bored. The darker looks from the Vega side of the family ran strong through her veins. And coming back this time was like a slap to his face. He definitely needed to have a chat with his brothers to make sure someone was watching out for Rachel.
Emily rolled her eyes and cleared her throat. “So, what grade are you in?”
“Eleventh, but I’m young for my grade. Only fifteen because my mom homeschooled me through middle school and I finished early. And I’m really smart.” Rachel’s eyes widened. “I don’t mean that egotistically. I have the curse of the elevated IQ. Nothing I’ve done has been able to stop it. Believe me. I’ve tried. Anyway, I use too many words when one works.”
Emily laughed, sounding relaxed—for the first time since they’d woken up that morning. “It’s okay. I’d like to hear about how you’ve tried to fend off the curse. Sounds interesting. I’ve got a few curses I could use fending from.” Uncertainty clouded her eyes, breaking the ease from a moment ago.
“Whatever you do, don’t go with dating the dumb jock,” Rachel said.
“You’re too young to be dating,” John interrupted. “Mom, you are not letting her date, are you? Whatever happened to the you-can-date-when-you’re-ready-to-get-married rule?”
Donna patted his shoulder on the way to the kitchen island, where she set the bin of flour on the counter. She pulled the top off and dusted the granite top. “Mind your own business, John.”
“Rachel is my business.”
“Am not. You don’t even live here anymore.” Rachel’s chin went up. “The only reason they didn’t let you date was because they knew you’d be an idiot about it.”
“That’s not true,” Donna said. “We expect all of you to take dating and relationships seriously. Respect for the person and for the sanctity of marriage is a quality everyone in this family will learn. None of this random hooking up and sleeping around with a new person every other weekend—”
“Mooom,” Rachel said. “Ew. Please. We have company.”
“Making love is a beautiful thing, Miss Rachel. One day, you’ll learn about that.”
“Not today.” Rachel freaked out, covering her ears.
“Not if you become a nun, either,” John teased. “I hear the Sisters of Mary Mother of the Church are recruiting.”
“Convents don’t recruit,” Rachel said with a pout.
Emily giggled behind him, and when he looked over at her, she quickly cleared her throat and the laughter from her face.
“Shall we?” He grinned and waved a hand. “I can show you around the place. I’m sure there’s another brother or sister around here somewhere who’d be happy to embarrass us both.”
Mom sent him a glare, and he knew that look. It was the one reminding him to mind his Ps and Qs. He took a moment to kiss her cheek. He loved his mom, loved that she cared. Loved that, despite the discomfort of having a mother who wasn’t shy at all about sex, she never truly interfered in his relationships.
Emily eyed him curiously as they walked around the house to the front yard.
He got that look a lot. “They’re family.”
“Father John is making more sense now.” She bit at her lip and glanced over at him under those pretty blond eyelashes. Those eyes, so expressive, were filled with curiosity. “Can I ask you a personal question?”
Inwardly he cringed, but it was the way of it, which was why his dating had slowly waned over the last few years. He’d gotten a little tired of explaining why he wasn’t going to have sex. The trouble with Emily? She was the first one he truly didn’t want to scare away.
And celibacy was apparently scarier than a guy like Malcolm, who seemed to have a new girl every time John turned around. He sighed. “Go ahead. I’m an open book.”
“I doubt that. We all have secrets.”
He shrugged. “Not much to keep secret.” Except the fact that I’ve had an unhealthy, fantasy-like crush on you for two years.
“Why do you live all the way in North Carolina?” She stopped where the yard narrowed to a path before it headed downhill to Ghost Lake.
He stared at her, pleased that she hadn’t followed the usual, and laughed at himself for assuming he knew what she would do. When she frowned, he put a hand on her shoulder. “I’m not laughing at you. I’m—” He shook his head. “I’m an idiot.” He paused then, as the wind caught her hair and wrapped around his wrist. He wanted to touch that point on her neck where he could see her pulse pounding.
He had to think of an answer. “Why do I live in Raleigh,” he said slowly. He’d been gone for a while now. He loved his family at Hawk Elite. They’d become as important to him as his biological family. “I’m not sure I know. I like being needed.” And this was the first time he’d been home in ten years when he questioned if he might be needed on the ranch. Was David carrying enough of the load? Were his parents getting too old to handle it all? His stomach hurt a little at the thought. “I don’t know.”
In a surprise move, Emily came close and hugged him, arms tightly around his neck.
“Can I tell you another secret?”
“Sure,” she said, her voice soft against his ear.
John pulled back. “I really like you.”
“Aw.” Her grin teased, made him want to wrestle her a little, and he liked that playful quality that sprang to life when he least expected it. She didn’t like when things got too serious.
“I’ve been taking my life one day at a time for a long time. I’ve been too long in the military and with Hawk Elite to think the future is something I can count on. Life can be short and fleeting.”
She blinked as if surprised, and nodded. “I know.”
“Yeah.” He tucked that now-familiar stray hair behind her ear. “But, for me, my one day at a time is based fully in the faith that someone has a plan for me. So I’m with Hawk Elite now. Maybe in a year I’ll be elsewhere. Maybe I won’t. I don’t know. But one thing I’d like to explore is that maybe, just maybe, finding you was part of that plan.”
He’d made her nervous enough to take a step back. Behind her, his brother was making tracks up the path from the lake, no girl in tow. He gave Emily’s shoulder a squeeze and stepped around her. “Dave!”
Dave looked up from his feet and waved as he jogged the last few feet up the hill. “What the hell are you doing here?” he asked, pounding John’s back. “I thought you were off to find that hot sniper lady.
”
Emily cleared her throat and lifted a brow.
“Oh, crap. That’s you, right?”
“Dave, Emily. Emily, Dave,” John said. “We should have a family meeting and do this all at once.”
“Sorry, bro.” Dave shook her hand. “Of course, you are hot.”
John whacked his brother on the back of the head, catching him before he ducked away. “Where’s your latest darling? Dad says you were out on the lake.”
“Eh, she took off from the road access. Had a thing to go to in town this afternoon.” Dave put an arm around Emily’s shoulder and turned her back to the house. “So, you’re the one who’s been consuming my brother’s thoughts.”
John groaned as Dave walked away with Emily.
He loved his family. He loved his family. He loved his family.
He couldn’t hear their words anymore, but smiled when Emily threw her head back and laughed at something Dave said. Dave, the jokester, nary a serious bone in his entire body.
Yet even though he was younger and a bit on the reckless side, Dave was the most loyal of John’s brothers. They’d grown up together, only a year apart, the closest in age of siblings from parents who seemed to have an alarm for creating babies exactly two and a half years apart.
So he relaxed when Emily glanced over her shoulder at him. He’d already told her his most important secret.
Anything Dave wanted to spill didn’t matter.
Chapter Twelve
The combination of being completely relaxed and enjoying herself, along with this crazy nervous flutter in her stomach, tired her brain. By dinner, she’d checked out mentally. Panic began to build at the base of her skull until she had a full-blown headache pounding at her temples.
They were all so nice. No, that wasn’t right. Nice was too tame. Kind. They were kind and loving and caring. And they all hugged and touched—a lot.
Emily never thought of herself as a recluse or a hermit before, but after an afternoon with John’s family, she would have given anything to climb to her upstairs apartment by the sea and curl into her big bed and listen as the waves crashed along the shore. Alone. By herself.
There were nine siblings, she knew now, from Rachel, the surprise, all the way up to Michael, who was a priest. Jesus, a priest. If there were signs she didn’t belong here, it started with the fact that John could very possibly be a virgin and ended with the fact that his brother was a priest.
“Will you be headed overseas again soon?” That was Veronica, a sister who lived in town and worked at the elementary school. She was gorgeous as well, darker blond with the most amazing tan. The genes in this family. Ugh.
“Can’t be sure. But I doubt it.” John’s answer made Emily wonder how often they ended up overseas.
“I’ve got a book signing in DC next month. You should come up for it.”
His grin made Veronica blush, which was so damn sweet. “I’ll do that.”
“What do you write?” Emily asked, ignoring the pain that now stabbed at the back of her eyes.
“I write historical fiction set in the old west. Do you like to read?”
She couldn’t remember the last book she’d read. But it had probably been more along the lines of a how-to. “I pick up a book every now and then. Usually a biography here and there. Sometimes a how-to, if I’m desperate. I—” Her vision blacked out, cutting off her words.
John moved first. “Emily?”
She blinked, looking for him through the blur. Passing out into her plate was not going to happen, and she fought the tug of unconsciousness. It was embarrassing enough she was a killer of small children, wasn’t it? She pushed her chair back. Every limb moved as if it wasn’t even connected to her body.
Strong, familiar hands were on her shoulders, and there seemed to be a hum of activity.
“Down you go,” came a soft, deep, sexy voice, then faded… “Emily, breathe,” John demanded.
She took a deep breath and her world came back into sharp focus, except she was on the floor behind her chair. John laid a cool, damp washcloth on her forehead. “There you go.”
“Girl needs more meat on her bones, if you ask me.”
“Hush, Miguel,” Donna said. “She’s tired from all the travel and excitement, that’s all.”
“It’s probably the altitude,” Rachel added matter-of-factly.
Emily moaned. Was it possible for the floor to open up and swallow her? Then she wouldn’t have to stand up and face his family. John must have seen the look in her eye, because he smiled, tucked an arm under her shoulders and another under her knees, and picked her up so she could tuck her face into his neck. “Be right back.”
He carried her to the stairs, yet when she would have gotten down, he kept going to her bedroom in the guest wing. The suite could have been part of an expensive bed and breakfast. There was a bedroom, sitting room, bathroom, and even a porch that looked over the lake at the back of the house.
John set her on the little blue sofa and then crouched in front of her with his hands on her knees. “You okay?”
Emily leaned back and closed her eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize how tired I was.”
“Rachel’s right. The altitude will slam you in the first two days you are here. I should have been more careful with you.”
“You’re not responsible for me.”
“I am now.”
“Now? Why?” she asked, unsure of what he meant but getting the feeling she was headed down a slippery slide to truly needing this man in her life.
“For one, I brought you here to the mountains, and I should know better than to let a guest overdo it on the first day here.” He sighed, nudged her over, and sat. “And because I heard from Hawk.”
She stilled, like in those moments before getting orders, anticipation racing through her nerves. “And?”
“The NSA has been tracking any mention of Hassan.”
“He’s not dead.” She didn’t have to guess. Hadn’t she kind of known? In a very weird gut-feeling kind of way, she’d known.
“Right.” John’s voice was hard. “There’s been chatter.”
“Ah, yes. The chatter. My favorite.” She smirked, but it quickly disappeared when he took her hand.
Even as he crossed his long legs out in front of him, he radiated the heavy weight of culpability. “You were fine in Harbor View, saying no to the offers. Why me? I should never have convinced you to come to Hawk Elite. Never should have involved you with Tyler’s mess and put your face on the news. It’s why we’re here—”
She got up before he could finish, tearing her hand from his and feeling the loss like the pain of ripping a Band-Aid from her skin. “No. No.” The room spun a little, but she gripped at consciousness and forced herself to focus on his face. “We’re here because I played God. Because I wanted revenge. Because I shot to kill, and killed an innocent child.”
“You did what you were ordered to do.”
His words set her back, slapped at her. “I should have pulled back. I was too eager.”
“You’re not the only one who’s lost a loved one, who uses loss to motivate.”
“Richard should have pulled me out. He knew. Why didn’t he?”
He didn’t answer right away.
She considered that her words could sound like she was shifting blame.
“He needed you.”
Emily turned her back and found herself looking out a window through lace curtains. “I only wanted revenge. That’s the wrong reason to follow an order—no matter what. It takes cold, hard facts and adds emotion.”
“Have you considered the fact that he wanted you to have the closure finishing that job would give you?”
Her brow furrowed.
“You’re right about one thing, Em. Revenge is tough on the mental ability to keep going. He saw that and wanted what was best for you. How many times had you transferred?”
“Five. Six. No, seven.” She bit at her lip. Could John be right? “Do they think H
assan was in the States this week?”
“No.”
“Then who took the shot?”
“Still not sure, but…” He ran a hand through his hair.
“But?”
“That was the day a message came up on one of the watched social media accounts. Whether it was him or not, looks like Hassan might be interested in getting you back.”
The thought of Hassan looking for her settled something inside of her. And she realized it was that insecurity, the need for closure. Her blood raced a bit, as if she wanted him to come after her. A fair fight this time.
He’d killed Sandra and Tim.
She’d killed his child.
They weren’t even.
And if she really thought about it, she figured she had it coming...
Syria
“I can get her there.”
Silence met the man’s claim, and doubt rested heavy on Hassan’s heart.
“Get me fifty thousand dollars in the account, and she’s all yours.”
The very fiber of Hassan’s being shook, and his hand barely held the phone to his ear. He wanted this so badly. He’d been waiting. The waiting, the anticipation had kept him alive, kept him from giving in to despair.
Now, the end was within reach. He was going to kill her. No, he was going to make her suffer, like he’d suffered, stripping her of her humanity—inch by fucking inch, with a blade to her pale skin.
Fifty grand was nothing. He would pay ten times that to get his hands on her.
Hassan clasped his hands in front of him. Nothing could go wrong. Nothing. “You will help, infidel. And I will pay you. You will bring her to me. Or I will fucking kill you myself for toying with me.”
The man hung up without a reply…
And a plan began to form.
Chapter Thirteen
Two days of rest had done her well. Her face wasn’t so pale on the second morning, and there was more of a bounce in her step as she came down the stairs a good hour after sunup.
John stood, waiting, with his mug of coffee. He sipped the rich brew until she hit the last step and looked up. She stopped abruptly when she saw him, tucking that familiar strand of hair behind her ear as a smile spread across her face.