Battlefield (The Covenant Book 2)

by Gwendolyn Casey

  The only thing that stopped me was protecting her. I’d seen missions, both in the military and the Aces, that went awry because of personal feelings getting in the way. We couldn’t risk Rafe finding out about us.

  I wasn’t even sure if there was an “us”. I may have fucked her senseless against a brick wall, but that didn’t mean we were back together. At least that was what her eyes said to me whenever we dared to share a look in the past few weeks. Her gaze had been shuttered. I couldn’t tell if it was her anger she was trying to hide or something else. I knew she wouldn’t forgive me easily, but I had hoped telling her the truth would begin the process. And yet, there was something she was holding back, something that she was hiding. I regretted that whatever it was would have to wait until we were done with Digali.

  Parker had us followed from the airport at a safe distance. I didn't notice any car in particular so Rafe’s driver probably didn't either. I was to wait until I confirmed Silvito was in the building and then signal Parker. I knew communication with Parker would be difficult once we were inside, but I had a few ideas of how to signal him. The plan sounded simple, but things never went smoothly. I had a feeling that things would get ugly, so my priority after sending the signal would be protecting Cece.

  It was just after lunchtime when we finally made it into the main house.

  Cece did her best impression of a fish with her mouth opening every few seconds at the grand home. The entrance hall went up three stories, complete with winding staircases and a large crystal chandelier. Marble columns and floors gave the impression of a Roman temple. Rafe had to nudge Cece when two women entered the foyer to get her to stop looking up.

  “Cece, I'd like you to meet my mother, Marilyn, and my sister, Cara,” Rafe said, guiding Cece forward with a hand on her back.

  “It's so nice to meet you. Your home is amazing. And being built into a mountain. I feel like I'm at Helm’s Deep.” Rafe laughed while the other women just smiled. They probably never watched The Lord of the Rings.

  “Mother, this is Jordan. And, Cara, I’m sure you remember,” Rafe said, looking back at me. I stepped forward and offered my hand to Marilyn. She looked like an angel of blonde hair, blue eyes, and perfect poise, but her demeanor was a little icy.

  Cara had the look of her brother, with caramel skin and sultry green eyes. When last we met, she was just a girl in her early twenties, beautiful if a little foolish. Now I could see the confidence of a real woman as she stepped toward me, with her hips swaying in her sleek dress and a polished eyebrow arched in subtle hunger.

  I felt Cara's eyes drift over me in appreciation, a small smile on her lips as I took her hand. “Jordan,” she said, her voice almost husky. The lusty excitement was obvious as she looked up at me.

  I glanced over at Cece, who was still talking with Marilyn, Rafe's arm around her waist. I hated how perfectly all this worked out. Rafe wanted her, and Cara wanted me. Working undercover, you couldn't ask for a better in, but as an Ace, my skin prickled with the need to shove Rafe aside and throw Cece over my shoulder. I’d hated this undercover crap when I was younger, but now it felt like the seventh level of hell.

  But the show must go on, so I kept my mask in place as I gazed at Cara. “It's good to see you, Cara,” I replied, letting my jealousy tinge my voice so it came out rugged. Cara clearly thought it was my own lust for her. She kept hold of my hand and leaned in close.

  “I can show you to your room,” she said softly so the others couldn't hear. I watched her teeth sink into her bottom lip, and I knew she had more than hospitality on her mind.

  She took my arm and led me to the stairs. I glanced back to see Cece watching us. Unlike me, she didn't look jealous, just a little worried, like she was scared for me. I headed up the stairs with the confidence that Cece trusted me. She knew I would not touch Cara unless necessary to play the game.

  I wish I had the same confidence. I trusted that Cece didn’t want to sleep with Rafe, but I knew how determined Rafe was to have her. He wasn’t above using her body against her, much like I did. I thought back to our first time, how she resisted for only a moment before giving herself over to my touch. Her surrender had been so sweet. The very memory had my dick swelling.

  “What’s that smirk?” Cara asked, pushing her body into mine as we walked and her hand brushing against my length. “Oh, maybe we are thinking the same thing.”

  I let a smile come to my lips, knowing she thought my hard-on was for her.

  We came to a door, but I stopped her before she reached for the doorknob. I grabbed her wrists and pushed her body against the wall. She gasped and pushed herself against me, lifting her breasts into my chest. Her lips reached for mine, but I pulled back a little.

  “You remember how this goes, babe. I say when and where,” I said.

  She closed her eyes and whimpered, clearly thinking back to the nights we had together. Cara was spoiled, always getting what she wanted, when she wanted. So, when a man dared to tell her no, she melted into a submissive puddle. I didn’t need to read a personality profile to figure that out.

  “I’ll come to you tonight, when we have time to do things right,” I said.

  “Okay,” she breathed.

  I released her hands and grabbed her hip, giving her a little nudge to go back down the hall.

  She bit her lip and gave me a little wave. “Can’t wait.”

  I gave her another smirk and went into the room. I gave myself a little mental shake as I approached my bags that had already been placed on the bed. I had plans to avoid Cara as much as I could, but she wasn’t going to make it easy. I could feel the eagerness in her hands when she touched me.

  I took the time to search the room for bugs or cameras and came up empty. I was surprised that a seasoned criminal like Digali trusted even his family and friends.

  After that I showered and dressed for dinner, which was a formal affair. I went downstairs a little early, hoping to see Cece by herself. I wanted to make sure she was okay.

  But as I came into the dining room, Rafe was already there with Cece, sharing a pre-dinner cocktail. They didn’t look up as they spoke, sharing some secret like lovers do.

  Cece looked ravishing in a red dress that was covered in black lace. The full skirt ended at her knees and the neckline dipped low enough to give a subtle hint of her wonderful breasts. It was perfect for the holiday, and to drive me to the edge of sanity.

  Marilyn and Cara came in behind me, making Rafe finally look our way.

  “Would anyone else like a glass of wine?” Rafe asked.

  Marilyn declined while Cara accepted.

  I walked over the bar to make my own drink, something a lot stronger than Riesling. “Where’s Mr. Digali?” Cece subtly asked.

  “He should be on his way,” Marilyn said. “That man will be late for his own funeral, I swear.”

  Cece met my gaze for a moment, sharing our anxiety over having to wait.

  Dinner was a long affair, or maybe it just felt that way with having to withstand Cara’s groping hand under the table and the several lulls in conversation. It was clear that the Digalis were not like other families, not that I was an expert. But I could tell that Marilyn was not the doting mother that every child wanted. The questions she asked her children were those of a stranger, like she hadn’t spoken to them in years. I found this surprising because Rafe had told me his mother had been pressuring him for grandchildren. I realized now that Rafe just used his mother as an excuse.

  Rafe took up most of the conversation talking about the success of the club. While he was talking about the profits, I realized that Cece had been right about Rafe. He was just a boy constantly trying to impress his parents so that he could have their attention. Maybe that was why he wanted children of his own so badly, to do things right for his own. It made me think of Greg and what Cece said about him. I decided that, if we survived this, I would reach out to him, apologize for making it seem like my attention and love were based on him being like m
e. The truth was that I wanted Greg to be anything other than me.

  After dinner, Marilyn retired early while the rest of us sat by the fire, talking. Rafe was visibly more relaxed now that his mother was not around. It would have been a nice way to spend Christmas if I didn’t have to watch Cece cuddle with Rafe. I did my best to give Cara the same treatment, but her perfume was making me sick, so I didn’t pull her too close.

  Around nine, Cece decided it was time for bed, and Cara followed her. Cara’s hand brushed my knee, and she gave me a wink on her way out.

  Then it was just me and Rafe.

  We drank our whiskeys in silence for a few minutes and just watched the fire. Then Rafe looked at his watch and stood.

  “Off to bed?” I asked.

  “In a way,” he replied as he approached the bar. I heard him open the fridge, and when he came back around, he had a bottle of champagne and two glasses.

  I tried to keep my face neutral as I boiled inside. He was going to Cece’s room with the intent of seduction. I could see the excitement in his eyes. I wracked my brain trying to find a reason to keep him here, but my mind was too panicked to think clearly.

  “I’ll see you in the morning,” he said on his way out.

  Luckily, the door closed before he could hear the glass in my hand shatter.

  Chapter Forty

  Cece

  I stood in my fancy bathroom wrapped in a soft, fluffy robe while I rubbed expensive lotion into my hands. The Digali house was very impressive with all the amenities. It felt like a five-star hotel, and that thought made me feel sorry for Rafe and Cara. How could a hotel feel like a home? It explained a lot about Rafe.

  I wrapped my arms around myself as I left the bathroom, feeling chilly. The stress of the day had me walking toward the bed like a zombie, more than ready to stop worrying for a few hours.

  I hadn’t slept last night, thinking about the days to come. I tried to think up every scenario of how this could play out to make sure I was prepared for each one. It didn’t take long to realize that it was impossible to predict everything. Even if I could, I simply wasn’t clever enough to have a solution for every situation. I spent the rest of the night praying to whatever powers there were to make sure everything turned out okay.

  We had flown out of Las Vegas on a private jet, and when we got off the plane, I used the bathroom at the airport to have a few minutes to myself before the big show. I had sat on the stool and just breathed. Once we got in that car, I knew there would be no going back, and I needed to settle my nerves before taking the final step. After a full three minutes of breathing in through my nose and out through my mouth, I finally felt calm enough to leave the stall.

  After washing up, I had looked in the mirror and saw a pay phone behind me. I had laughed a little at the relic. Pay phones had practically disappeared in the last decade, even in a small town like Clayton.

  I had been about to leave the bathroom when something stopped me. Something Izzy once said.

  Knock. Knock.

  I was so deep in thought that I jumped a little at the knock on my door. I dragged my feet as I made my way over and pulled it open slowly.

  “Rafe, what are you doing?” I said, giving him a little smile even though I felt my anxiety return with a vengeance.

  “Nightcap?” he asked holding up a bottle of champagne. I raised an eyebrow at him. “I'll behave, I promise.”

  “All right,” I said, having no excuse to say no. He came in and set the bottle and glasses on a table by the door. He popped the bottle and poured us both a helping. He handed me the glass, and I took the smallest sip possible. The smirked he gave me was all confidence as he played some music on his phone and then came over to take me into his arms. We began to dance to Dean Martin singing “Baby, It’s Cold Outside”.

  “Rafe, what is this?” I asked after a few moments.

  “I didn't want to end the day without holding you one more time.”

  I blushed and looked away.

  I really hated lying to Rafe. He was so sweet it made me feel sick over the guilt. Suddenly, I didn't feel very well.

  Oh no.

  I shoved away from Rafe and ran to the bathroom, slamming the door and running to the toilet. It only took a few seconds for my dinner to reappear in the toilet bowl. I cursed the writers of What to Expect When You’re Expecting. They said that the morning sickness should have passed by now. I breathed and dry heaved a few more times before the feeling finally passed.

  After I flushed and stood up from the floor, I turned to see Rafe standing in the doorway. Instead of the concern he showed me last time I was sick, the look on his face told me that he was angry.

  “I'm so sorry,” I said as I went to the sink to rinse my mouth. “I should probably see a doctor when we go home.”

  When I turned around, he was right beside me. Suddenly he reached out, pressing a hand to my stomach. I tried to push him away, but it was too late. The baby had grown enough to push my stomach muscles out, and while I still wasn't showing, you could feel it just beneath my skin.

  He pulled his hand away and cursed. His lips curled into a snarl. “How long have you known?” he asked.

  “Since that night at the restaurant. I took a test the next day,” I lied. Rafe had always been kind to me, but I didn’t know him so well that he might not hurt me if provoked.

  “You're too far along not to have noticed sooner,” he accused.

  “I did miss my period, but I thought it was stress.” I shrugged. “I’ve never been pregnant before,” I said, my voice shaking.

  At the sound of my fear, his face softened a little. “Why didn't you tell me?”

  “I didn't want to ruin Christmas. I was going to tell you when we got back.”

  He nodded his head, seeming to understand. “Are you keeping it?”

  I sighed. “I think so.”

  His brow furrowed. “Why? You said the father left you,” he said, throwing up his hands.

  “I know, but whenever I think about abortion, I just can't.”

  Rafe didn’t say anything but he studied my face, taking glances at my stomach. Emotions rolled over his face swiftly, from anger to confusion, then disbelief and eventually back to anger.

  “Do you want me to leave?” I asked softly. My heart was beating out of my chest wondering how things would end if I left.

  He opened his mouth and then shut it quickly. He looked at the ceiling for a moment before he finally said, “No.”

  I nodded in silent thanks and breathed a little easier. But then I thought of something else. “Are you going to tell the others?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “Does it matter?”

  “I'm just embarrassed and I don't want your family and Jordan to think I was trying to trick you,” I explained, biting my lip.

  “We would have to sleep together for that to work,” he said with a sad little smile and leaned against the bathroom counter.

  “I really am sorry, Rafe,” I said, taking his hand. “I understand if you don’t want to date any longer.”

  He pulled away. “I need some time to think,” he said.

  “Think about what? Are you going to fire me?” I really didn’t care about the job, but I needed to know what was happening in his head.

  “No, I’m not going to fire you. I am pissed off, but I’m not going to deprive a single mother of work.” He walked to the door and then turned back, giving me a serious look. “But when you start to show, you will have to find other employment.”

  I just nodded, and he left the bathroom.

  When I heard the door close, I sank down to the floor against the vanity. That had been rough, but it was for the best that Rafe knew about the baby. His pursuit had to be stopped. This was the best outcome I could have hoped for. He was upset, but he didn’t kill me.

  But I wasn’t certain if Rafe wouldn’t turn murderous once he knew who put this baby inside me. The familiar pain of guilt seeped into my chest.

  I went to the
bed and finally crawled in, feeling so very tired. But I had a feeling the guilt would keep me up all night.

  Chapter Forty-One

  Jordan

  I sat in the chair by the fire, watching A White Christmas on AMC.

  After I cleaned up the broken glass, I paced the room and drank some more. I knew Cece could handle herself, but it felt wrong to let another man attempt to have her, even if I knew she would reject him. Maybe I was scared that she wouldn’t reject him. Things with us were so fragile that my heart couldn’t take the waiting and wondering. I finished off the bottle of whiskey and tried to let the TV distract me, but it really wasn't working.

  I jumped up when I heard someone coming around the corner and my blood pressure fell to a normal level when I saw that it was Rafe, and he did not look happy.

  He let out a heavy sigh as he went to the bar and fixed himself a drink.

  “Want to talk about it?” I asked, holding in my happiness that things didn’t go well.

  “Not really,” he said as he came over to the couch and slumped down beside me.

  “She turned you down?” I asked.

  “It’s a little more complicated than that,” he said, rubbing his face.

  She must have turned him down. I wouldn’t let my mind imagine any other scenario. If I did, that fire poker would be in Rafe’s chest.

  “What’s complicated?” I asked.

  “She’s pregnant,” he said.

  “No.” The word came out of my mouth without even thinking.

  “She is. I felt it.”

  “Felt what?” I growled.

  He looked at me. “The baby. She has been hiding it, but there is definitely a bump.”

  I felt a moment of anger at the thought of his hand on her stomach, but it was quickly pushed aside by shock. I got up from the couch and walked to the bar, afraid my emotions would play across my face.