Every Secret Thing

by Rebecca Hartt

  There was only one solid left, the green ball nestled against the short side of the table. But the eight-ball stood between it and her cue ball.

  Charlotte studied her options from all angles.

  Come on, baby, Lucas thought, cheering her on silently.

  As if hearing her, she looked up abruptly, meeting his gaze through the crowd of uniformed men. Don’t call me that, Lucas imagined her saying. Then she looked back at the table, frowning as she returned her focus to the game.

  Amused, Lucas basked in the glow of his love for her.

  The SEALs grew hushed, considerate of the concentration required to keep her lead. Even the music blaring from the jukebox seemed to dim.

  Seated behind the wall of bodies, Lucas lost sight of the table, but the roar of disbelief that followed on the heels of Charlotte’s shot let him know she’d won.

  Determination spurred him to approach her. The members of his troop roared at the upset, ignoring their troop leader as he elbowed past them. Only Saul noted Lucas’s approach and snapped into a rigid posture with his arms tightly at his sides. “Attention!”

  Conditioned to respond, every man jerked to attention, which was utterly ridiculous under the casual circumstances, not to mention embarrassing. Charlotte was the only person standing at ease, a hand on her hip and one eyebrow raised.

  “Can I talk to you outside?” Lucas asked, ignoring the others and causing her eyes to widen.

  “Sure.” But her expression asked, What is happening?

  “Good.” He cupped her elbow and steered her swiftly toward the exit, while growling over his shoulder, “As you were.”

  Lucas’s stomach churned with mixed fear and hope as he held the heavy door open, escorting her out into the cooler evening air. The late September sky had mellowed to a color not unlike the juice they’d sipped by Eric’s pool in the Bahamas.

  The Gallstones had parked their Winnebago under the pine trees on the far side of the parking lot. Lucas was glad to see them keeping watch. The last thing on his mind at that moment was any lingering threat presented by The Entity. Then again, who would be so stupid as to target them here, with two DIA bodyguards and fifteen SEALs to call on for help?

  Lucas searched for a place for them to sit. His legs felt a bit like they did right before high-altitude, low-open parachute jumps. What if Charlotte rejected his offer?

  Rascal Jack’s shared a parking lot with a tattoo parlor and a dry-cleaning shop. It wasn’t the most romantic spot to ask Charlotte to forge a relationship with him. There weren’t any benches, and the curb was littered with trash, spilled beer, and other stuff he didn’t want to think about.

  Homing in on the back of his pickup truck, he lowered the tailgate, then wiped the dust off the bed liner with the handkerchief in his pocket.

  “These always come in handy when you wear dress whites,” he pointed out, then tossed the soiled linen square off to one side. “Have a seat,” he offered.

  “Okay.” She swung athletically onto the tailgate and watched him lower himself gingerly next to her. “What’s up?”

  Pondering the best way to start, Lucas directed his gaze across the street, past the chain-link fence that separated them from Naval Air Station Oceana’s landing field. A cargo plane, a C-5 Galaxy the size of a whale, lumbered up the runway in preparation for takeoff, its twin engines flaring. With the crimson sunset beyond it, the view was almost picturesque. If that darn plane could get off the ground, Lucas thought, so could his relationship with Charlotte.

  The engines roared, giving him the added time to organize his thoughts. The nose of the Galaxy went up. For the longest time, it seemed to hover above the tarmac before climbing ponderously into the sky. Charlotte waited.

  “You know, we’ve talked about what I’m looking for, and I told you I want a woman who’ll put her husband and kids before her career. Remember?”

  Her cherry-brown eyes looked almost red with the sunset reflected in them. “Of course.”

  “I think I misspoke. I should have said, ‘I’m looking for the woman God thinks is right for me—someone amazing and smart and fun to be with.’ I think I’m meant to be with you, Charlotte.” It took all his courage to spit the words out.

  She looked stunned, completely bowled over.

  “I guess you didn’t see that coming,” he added, tempering his expectations.

  “Not really, no.” Looking away, she blinked several times as if trying to come to terms with what he’d said.

  He tried again, covering her hand with his. “I’m not asking you to give up your plans. I want you to be exactly who you are and to do exactly what you feel called to do. Just know that I would always be there for you. We could make it work if we’re both committed.”

  She drew a deep, shuddering breath, clearly touched by his words. “Oh, Lucas.”

  Turning her head, she looked deeply into his eyes, but then her gaze slid up to his forehead and her eyes flew wide before she yelled, “Get down!”

  Shoving him onto the bed of his truck, she threw herself over him as a hiss and thunk made Lucas realize a bullet had punctured the truck’s lining mere inches from his head. Charlotte lay on top of him. He threw his arms around her and rolled toward the inside of the bed, hoping it would shield them and keep her safe beneath him.

  “Where’d that come from?” he demanded.

  “Shooter on the roof,” she said in a thin voice.

  Crap, where were Martin’s bodyguards? Lucas struggled to dig his cell phone out of his pocket.

  Thunk. A second bullet embedded itself in the liner right next to his exposed thigh. With a strangled curse, he concentrated on putting his call through. Stone’s cell phone started ringing.

  That’s when Lucas saw the blood. On Charlotte’s head, in her hairline above her temple. Not even her bright red hair could disguise the scarlet stain oozing into her roots.

  His look of horror had her reaching up with her fingertips to touch it.

  “The bullet only grazed me,” she said, but her face went instantly pale as she beheld the blood on her fingers.

  Lucas ignored his shock long enough to peek over the edge of the truck bed. He could see the shooter standing on the roof, half hidden by the Rascal Jack’s sign. If his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him, the ponytail suggested he was looking at a woman. Perhaps Laura Dunn?

  Unbelievable that The Entity would come after them at this late juncture.

  “Yes, sir.” Stone’s cheerful answer suggested he hadn’t heard either gunshot.

  With a few choice words thrown in, Lucas summarized their situation. Not five seconds later, Stone and Galbraith came bursting out of the Winnebago, firing shots at the roof. Lucas braved a second peek. Laura Dunn was retreating. Lucas pushed to his knees.

  In that same instant, Navy SEALs poked their heads out of Rascal Jack’s, clearly drawn by the sound of gunfire. Lucas spotted Saul and shouted, “Over here!”

  Saul sprinted to the truck and, with a look of consternation, peered down into the bed. “What the hell happened?”

  “Laura Dunn shot at us from the roof.” Torn between wanting Saul’s help and wanting the woman apprehended, Lucas made a quick decision and pointed. “Go after her. I’ve got Charlotte,” he added.

  With a parting glance at her, Saul ran toward the trunk of his car to collect his weapons.

  Ignoring Charlotte’s insistence that she could walk, Lucas gathered her gently into his arms. Taking great pains not to jostle her, he scooted them off the tailgate, touched a foot to the pavement, and swung her clear of the truck. In the same instant, he spotted Saul darting out of sight behind the building. Even in his polished dress shoes, he moved like he was wearing moccasins. A couple of SEALs took off after him. The rest took note of Lucas’s predicament and rushed over.

  “She’s shot,” Bambino exclaimed.

  “Barely,” Charlotte managed.

  “Yes,” Lucas said. “Theo, call 911. Bambino, get the door. It’s time to put you
r medic training to the test.”

  “Yes, sir!”

  As Theo whipped out his phone, Bambino ran ahead to open the door and yelled at the milling SEALs to make way.

  In the bar’s cool interior, the jukebox was still blaring. Theo and Bambino followed Lucas to the nearest pool table, then hovered with concern as Lucas laid Charlotte on the table’s velveteen surface. The bar manager materialized to offer aid.

  “I need a first aid kit,” Lucas barked at him. “Tell me you have one.”

  “Sure.” The manager hurried into the kitchen.

  “What do you think, Tony?” he asked Bambino, who was peering at Charlotte’s head wound.

  “Looks superficial,” Bambino declared, his Philadelphia accent suddenly apparent. “All we can do is disinfect the wound and bandage it and treat her for shock,” he added.

  Lucas leaned over Charlotte, resting his forearms on the table. “Talk to me, baby,” he requested.

  She pretended to glare at him, but with her face so pallid, she couldn’t pull it off. “I told you not to call me that.”

  The manager’s return with the first aid kit gave Tony something to do. He pawed through its contents, pulling out bandages and disinfectant. Lucas realized Charlotte had started to shiver. He caught the manager’s eye. “Do you have any clean towels?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  As that man went to fetch them, Lucas clasped Charlotte’s cold hand and caught her eye.

  “I can’t believe what just happened,” he said, staving off his own shock. “How did you know she was about to shoot us?” he demanded. “Your back was to the building.”

  “Not us,” Charlotte whispered back, confusing him.

  “What?”

  “She was aiming for you.” Her eyelashes started to flutter. “I saw the laser dot on your forehead.”

  Two things occurred to Lucas at once. The first was that Charlotte had thrown herself on top of him to protect him. The second was that she was about to lose consciousness.

  Lucas put his face closer to hers. “Stay with me, baby. Don’t sleep,” he begged.

  “I’m just closing my eyes,” she whispered, as Tony used adhesive to keep the gauze stuck to her forehead.

  “You can’t. You have to keep them open.” He lifted an imploring look at Tony. “What do we do?”

  “Just keep talking to her,” Bambino suggested. Taking the towels the manager had just run out to them, he moved swiftly to Charlotte’s feet, propped them up with several towels, then draped two more over her to keep her warm.

  Thankful for Tony’s calm efficiency, Lucas cradled Charlotte’s hand between both of his in order to warm it. As he lowered his lips to kiss her knuckles, fearful tears rushed into his eyes.

  She was watching him through her lashes. “You really need to work on that, Lucas,” she whispered.

  “Work on what?” he choked out.

  She managed a weak smile. “Never mind. I like that about you.”

  He had to believe she did more than merely like him. She’d taken a bullet for him, for heaven’s sake. Thank God—thank God it hadn’t hit her more directly. But she wasn’t out of the woods yet. She’d clearly sustained a concussion, which could still result in complications like a brain bleed, even death. Don’t think that!

  God wouldn’t let that happen when he’d only just realized she was the one for him. The mere idea was appalling.

  “I’ll be okay,” Charlotte murmured.

  But in the next instant, her eyes rolled back in her head, and her lids drifted shut.

  “Charlotte!” Lucas called, but she didn’t stir. He squeezed her hand harder, willing her to wake up. “Where is the ambulance?” he shouted, with a desperate glance over his shoulder.

  “On its way, sir.” Theo, who had been standing guard just inside the door, spoke with calm reassurance. “I can hear the siren now.”

  Drawing a shaky breath, Lucas took in Charlotte’s still, pale form with gut-wrenching helplessness. He’d been in situations where teammates had been shot, injured, even killed. But this was different.

  This was his future, hanging by a thread.

  Chapter 19

  Even with her eyes closed, Charlotte was conscious of the sun streaming through the hospital window. She awakened to it by degrees, turning her head slowly so as not to exacerbate her pounding head. The bandage secured so tightly over her brow seemed to make the headache worse. Over the thud of her own heart, she could hear the hospital staff bustling about, tending to their patients. It had to be midmorning or so—her phone was in her purse, which was in the locker, she recalled, along with a change of clothing.

  The reading of Jaguar’s verdict, followed by sentencing—or extenuation and mitigation as it was called in the military—would be happening at any moment, she realized. That was why Lucas had left. Prior to that, he’d remained steadfastly by her side, from the moment she had roused in the ER to the wee hours of the morning when she’d finally been permitted to sleep. His steady presence had made the unpleasant ordeal nearly tolerable.

  Somewhere between her CAT scan, which revealed only a mild concussion, and the suturing of her scalp, Lucas informed her that Laura Dunn had been apprehended. With her arrest, the threat posed by The Entity seemed to be lessened. All the same, Galbraith and Stone had reached out to her godfather, who received hospital permission to let them stand guard in the hallway. Lucas, himself, had occupied the reclining chair by her bed.

  As she’d drifted off to sleep, the words Lucas had shared with her so earnestly before the incomprehensible shooting replayed themselves in her head. He’d said she was amazing and smart and fun to be with. He’d said he thought they could work out a relationship, despite her career plans. She knew he was waiting for her answer.

  As much as she wanted to belong to Lucas, heart and soul, she could not—would not—condemn him to the kind of hit-or-miss relationship he’d described. He’d said he wouldn’t ask her to give up her plans and that he would always be there for her. But Lucas didn’t deserve a long-distance love affair. He deserved a woman who curled up next to him every night and gave him beautiful babies.

  Sadly, that wouldn’t be her.

  She had nurtured her plan to join the CIA since adolescence. Come hell or high water, she intended to see it through. Knowing Lucas was somewhere thinking about her wouldn’t help her concentration. Knowing he was missing her would leave her feeling torn. He deserved better than what she could give him. A tear of regret leaked from her eye and dropped to the pillow.

  Pressured by her bladder, she tossed back the sheet and sat up, putting her feet tentatively to the floor. Her head, she discovered, hurt far less in a vertical position. Out in the hallway, she could hear Galbraith flirting with a nurse.

  Worried about Jaguar’s fate and eager to be cleared for dismissal, Charlotte used the restroom. Appalled by her bandaged reflection, she gave herself a cat bath, then dressed in the khaki slacks and patterned blouse her brother had brought for her. The thoughtful gesture must have been Saul’s idea, since Saul had been the one to give Calvin a ride. Checking her phone for an update on Jaguar, Charlotte groaned to find the phone dead, uncharged.

  As she eyed the clock on the wall, she could only imagine how Jaguar had to be feeling with his fate about to be announced.

  Please, oh, please, God, let the court find Jaguar innocent, Charlotte prayed.

  She was wriggling her feet into her pumps when a sharp knock preceded her door opening. Peeking in, her godfather looked astonished to see her standing and dressed.

  “Charlotte!” he exclaimed, stepping inside and approaching her with concern in his eyes.

  “Uncle Larry.” She accepted his familiar hug with relief, then looked up at him. “You didn’t have to come all the way down here.”

  He put her at arm’s length to inspect her. “Of course I did. My bodyguards failed to protect you. I can’t believe they almost let you die. They’re fired,” he declared, sounding sincere, though she kn
ew he had to be joking.

  “It wasn’t their fault,” she insisted. “Besides, it wasn’t me who was being shot at, it was Lucas. Dwyer must have wanted to punish him for reconning his warehouse.”

  Her godfather went suddenly still, his gaze intent. “What do you mean, darling?”

  Too late, Charlotte remembered her godfather knew nothing about The Entity. Now that Fitz was dead, though, perhaps he ought to know. If anyone could put an end to a ring of extreme right-wing vigilantes, it was the director of the DIA.

  Ignoring how weak she was feeling, she explained how The Entity was a highly organized group of top-level officials in both the military and the government. “And Dwyer is a key member. He’s been stealing weapons in advance of his SEALs and, instead of destroying them, he’s been storing them in a warehouse in Sabena. Special Agent Fitzpatrick of the FBI was just about to shut down the syndicate when he was killed.”

  “Fitz?” her godfather repeated, clearly recognizing the name.

  “Yeah, you’ve heard of him?”

  “Of course. He’s a legend. You mean he’s dead?”

  “Yeah, he was shot by The Entity’s hitman, Jason Dunn. Dunn and his wife were the couple that abducted me, and she’s the one who tried to shoot Lucas last night.”

  Uncle Larry’s eyes had taken on a horrified light. He rubbed his stomach as if it were hurting him. “I can’t believe all this,” he muttered, looking ill-at-ease. “It sounds like something straight out of a spy thriller.”

  “You can put an end to The Entity, though, can’t you, Uncle Larry? It’ll take the FBI way too long to pick up where Fitz left off.”

  Her godfather’s mouth crimped and his jaw hardened. “Yes, I can,” he said in a strange voice, then nodded. For a moment, he stood lost in his thoughts before focusing on her again. “I need to get you somewhere safe.”

  “No, you don’t. I doubt I’m in danger anymore. Laura Dunn was captured last night, and The Entity knows I can’t remember anything else at this juncture. I’m not a threat to them.”

  “All the same, it wouldn’t hurt to take a vacation until this group is dismantled.”