With a tight grip on the fucker’s arm, Drake drags him down the hall.
"Can someone explain what the hell is going on? Fate, what has gotten into you?" Mac shuffles toward us, confusion and fury written across his furrowed-brow glare.
He can wait.
Turning to face her, I cup Pops’s cheeks. Searching her eyes, I find the fire from earlier gone, only blue shining back at me.
"You okay?" I whisper as I brush both thumbs across her freckled cheekbones. "We can do this another day if it’s too much."
"No," she says through a heavy exhale. "I want to get it over with. I'm okay. Actually, I feel better after hitting him. Is that bad?"
With a chuckle, I pull her close and stroke the length of her hair. "Hope not, because I feel fucking fantastic. Been wanting to do that since Raider told me what really happened."
"What did happen?" asks a slightly annoyed, mostly tired voice at my back. "Someone fill me in, now."
With a sigh, I kiss Pops on the head and tuck her against my side. "When Pops didn't get on the chopper, the CIA was pissed. They said it would be wasting government resources to try again and didn’t want to compromise the rest of her mission by allowing the boys to come back for me. So they left us, mostly to prove a point, I think." Drake stalks back into the room, his eyes on me. "There wasn't anything the boys could do. Their hands were tied."
"That fucker in there was the one who laid everything out crystal clear. If we went in for Nash before they gave the green light, they would sever all my contracts with the CIA. We were forced to wait," Drake says as he glares with his arms crossed over his chest from the opposite corner. Dude must work out ten hours a day to stay as fit as he is. Guess if you're dealing with the CIA and other pencil dicks who think their title gives them bigger balls than they actually have, you have to stay large to invoke fear.
Mac looks between the three of us, his head on a damn swivel trying to take it all in. "So what you’re saying—"
"They punished him," Fate interjects beside me. "They knew he was there, that he came back to save me, and they left him because of me. Because I didn't follow their plan."
"Left us," I correct and kiss the top of her head. "Once they had solid proof that the general was close, Drake and the guys went in. Even then they had to wait, couldn’t attack until they had a visual on the general himself."
"Why did they wait so long? When the truck pulled up and he got out, why didn't...?" she says beside me with a voice so soft it shreds my heart.
I know what she's thinking. If they had reacted faster, she wouldn't have been taken, wouldn't have been in that truck fighting for her life, and maybe the general would be standing trial for his crimes instead of dead and rotting in the jungle.
"We didn't know," Drake replies as he takes a hesitant step toward us, his frown morphed from the normal disapproval to regret. "We didn't know Snowflake was sick, had no fucking idea they would take you. It was my call to wait until we had everyone in place. The CIA tied our hands on when to get you out, but I’m to blame for what happened after that fucker arrived at the camp."
The room stills, engulfed in uncomfortable silence. Hell, this must be why he’s allowed so much paid time off and for me to recover here. It's only now, with him staring from across the room, that I notice the guilt behind his hard eyes.
"You didn't know. No one could’ve expected what happened that day." I run a hand over my hair and shake all the what-ifs out of my head. "None of it would’ve happened if you could’ve come get us sooner."
"But then that fucker would still be out in the world, on the run, evading us like he had for years." The room drops a few degrees as Sr. Bastard CIA Fucker walks back into the room with toilet paper stuffed up his swollen nose. "She accomplished what she wanted. Not sure why everyone is fucking pissed at me for it. It all worked out. The general is dead, the second-in-command is nowhere to be found, and you two are back. Well most of you." He shoots a pointed look down to my right leg and smirks.
Fate lunges toward him, catching me off guard at her quick attack. Thankfully Mac doesn’t hesitate to wrap an arm around her waist, hauling her back.
"Little help," he says through gritted teeth as she thrashes in his arms. "I think this time she's going for the jugular."
"Let me go, dammit," Fate seethes.
Pulling from my own anger-laced haze, I wrap both arms around hers to hold them tight against her side. As she struggles against me, I whisper in her ear, "He's not worth it."
Her fight dies but her labored breaths continue to hammer against my chest. Looking up, I find all eyes on me instead of her.
"She's okay. Let's just get this over with. And you." I nod to the asshole who keeps baiting us. "You say one more word, if you breathe too loud, I'm putting a bullet between your eyes. Understand?"
Gripping her sweaty hand, I pull her to the couch and sit. Mac and the other FBI agent follow suit and sink into the deep leather chairs across from us.
"Miss Haley, I'm Patrick," says the FBI guy I don't know. "I'll make this quick and easy. Start from when you landed in Lagos."
Chapter 30
Fate
Today
The coolness from the stone step seeps through my jeans, sending a shiver up my spine. Shouting in the house continues, but I've done my part; no need to go back in until they’re done. Rubbing my hands up and down my arms, I stare out at the beautiful landscape.
With a deep, shaky breath in, I close my eyes. Talking about Africa this go-round was a bit easier since just yesterday I told Nash the same story but still, talking about it, remembering, isn't easy. I want to forget and move on, which I will. With the file Mac has, I'll help him and Matt find Jace again, and then they can take it from there. I'm done.
A tiny smile pulls at my lips. Maybe, hopefully, once all this is past us, Nash and I can move on together. After last night and this morning, there’s no denying that I'm in too deep. Might as well tell him how I feel about him and see how he reacts. My smile grows at the thought of more nights and mornings with him. We deserve to be happy, both of us, and we will be. Soon.
One more task and I can finally move on with my life.
A shadow creeps over my shoulder. By the way my body doesn't go molten, it's not Nash. Mac sinks beside me with a low groan and stretches out his long legs in front of him. We stare at the mountains in comfortable silence.
"I didn't know," he says a few minutes later. "I had no idea the CIA put a block on getting him and you out. I would’ve... you know I would’ve done something."
I grasp his hand and pull it to rest on my knee. "It's done. The asshole was right though. The general’s dead, and I'm back in one piece. Partially."
"What does that mean?"
"It means physically I’m okay, but mentally?" I turn from him and pick at a crack in the step below us. "It’ll take a while, I guess. Hopefully every day will be better. At least I have him to help me through it. He understands." My cheeks burn in embarrassment and I nudge Mac’s shoulder, which he returns.
"I'm glad you have him so you don't have to go through this alone. You deserve to be happy, and by the looks of it, you're finally acting on it."
"I am, but it's scary." Turing on the step, I face him straight on. "After we find the man who recruited Destiny, I'm done. I'll help you and Matt find him, walk you through my files and his signatures, but then I want out."
He wraps a hand through my hair and pulls our foreheads together. "I was hoping you'd say that. We'll find him, Fate. You and me, we can find him. After that you're free. Free to move on with him, move on with your life."
"I think I love him," I whisper and close my eyes. "But what if he leaves? Everyone leaves me."
He pulls back but keeps us close with the hand still in my hair. "I know you're new at this, so I'll give you a little hint. He won't. I see the way he looks at you, how he protects you. I think he might feel the same way."
"What if—"
"Am I interru
pting something?" comes an angry voice behind us. I leap from the step and turn to face Nash, who's glaring at Mac.
"No, we were just wrapping up," Mac says as he stands and dusts off his slacks. "You and me, Fate. Tonight. We'll find him." With a smirk, he looks to the still-glaring Nash, then back to me. "Then you can move on."
Avoiding Nash, I turn to walk through the open field. He follows a few steps before speaking up.
"What was that about, Fate?"
"Just planning our next steps. I'll help them find this guy, and then I'm done. I don’t want to do this anymore." With a shrug, I stop and turn to face him.
"Then what?" he says stone-faced, not giving any insight to what he's feeling.
"I don't know. Go back to contracting with the FBI, maybe get my GED and work on my bachelor’s." Keeping my eyes locked with his, I silently beg him to give me what I need in this moment—reassurance of us, of what he wants from us.
"Right. Sounds like you have a lot of thinking to do."
"What about you? What will you do when all this is done?" I hate how small my voice sounds as I ask the one question I need a direct, honest answer to.
Crossing his strong arms over his chest, he smirks. "Keep working for Drake. Lots of CIA dirty work out there to be done. Any of these future plans of yours involve him?" His quick nod to the house confuses me for a second before I realize he means Mac.
"Yeah, of course. Why."
His face falls at my words. "So that's it? You want him even after—"
Shocked, I toss a hand up to stop him. "Wait, what?"
"And here I thought when you said you wouldn't leave, everything you said this morning...." Turning, he runs a hand over his head and begins to walk away. "Damn, I'm such a fucking fool."
"Nash, stop. I don't want him. I want you," I say as I lace our fingers together and pull him to a stop. "I just... didn't know if you'd want me too. You know... after."
"You gotta be kidding me, Fate."
I drop his hand and shove both of mine into my pockets. "So that's a no."
"That's a 'how are you so damn oblivious.' I've told you multiple times, showed you how I feel about you, what I want from us. I've been waiting on you to decide, waiting for you to be ready to have this conversation."
"Oh," I breathe and dig the toe of my Converse into the grass. "I don't want to leave."
"Well we’ll have to at some point. Drake won't let me live here forever," he says with grin. "You gotta say it, Pops."
"Say what?" I groan and toss my hands in the air. "That I'm ready for this to be over, but at the same time I'm scared that as soon as it is, you'll move on to the next girl? That every night those four months I dreamed of you, of us? That somehow in some backward, messed-up way, I fell little by little every day for you? What, what do you want me to say?" I shout.
He takes a step to pull me against him. "First off, I won’t leave you, so stop planning our end before we've had a real chance to begin. Second, if you falling for me is backward and messed up, then we’re perfect for each other because I did too. I love you, Fate Haley, and I need you to stay because losing you once almost killed me. I wouldn't survive round two."
My heart trembles and constricts with fear, happiness, love—hell, every emotion pours through my veins at his words. He loves me. Loves me. And it's the first time anyone besides family has uttered those three little words to me.
Looking up to meet his brown eyes, I can't help but grin. "I think I love you too."
He rolls his eyes and gives my ass an open-palm smack. "You really have a way with words there, Pops."
I smack his ass back, which turns his smile mischievous, brows rising in challenge. "I just mean I've never been in love before, so I don't have anything to compare it to and I obviously don't have anyone to talk to about it. I was trying to talk to Mac, but then you got all pissy."
He grips my hand in his and we walk back to the house, which is now a good distance away. "Er, yeah, sorry about that. I'm a little—"
"Possessive?"
"I was going to say cautious." With a sigh, he rubs his free hand down his face and looks toward the trees. "Remember when I told you I didn’t cheat because I know what it feels like to be on the other side?"
"Oh. Oh. So you thought me and Mac...?" I bust out laughing but sober when I find him stone-faced. Guess it's not as funny to him. "I told you I've never wanted him that way. As long as we've known each other, it's almost dad/daughter or maybe brother/sister." Just the thought of being as intimate with Mac as I've been with Nash makes me shudder. “Want to talk about it?”
“Not really.”
I pause mid-stride and cross my arms across my chest. “Seriously? You badger me for details on my past and you won’t give up this bit? Come on, tell me.
“Hey, I don’t interrogate. If I did, you’d have given up this computer guy’s name by now, and I’d be in DC taking care of the issue.”
I smile and move to wrap my arms around his waist. “I know you would, but I need to get his physical location again. It’s been months, you know. Then the FBI will take it from there. I don’t want you risking your life, again, for me. So, the cheater?”
He groans and looks to the sky. “There isn’t much to tell. We dated in high school and I thought she was it. When the hottest girl in school picks you as her boyfriend, you just go with it and hang on tight. We had fun, but then we graduated and things shifted. I’d come home during long leaves to see her and the family, but each time I came back she was a little more distant, little more preoccupied with the life she had without me. When all the shit went down and I was discharged, it forced the issue since I was moving back.”
His hold tightens around my back, pulling me closer. “Apparently she wanted someone who could offer her more than a disgraced Army grunt. And she left. Left with the guy she’d been fucking behind my back while I was serving our fucking country. The fucker came to pick her up from our damn apartment. The one I paid for the whole time I was serving so we could have a place of our own when I came home.
“I found out later on that she and that asshole started fucking the day I shipped off to basic training. She didn’t care about me, didn’t care about anything other than making sure she was taken care of. That day she left, she said I’d never amount to anything and she wouldn’t stick around wasting her life on someone like me.”
"That bit—" I yelp as he yanks me to a stop. What’s his deal? Glancing up, I find him scanning the surrounding area, gun in hand instead of resting in his holster.
"Let's get inside," he says, still scouring the area.
I look each way but don't find anything. "What's going on?" The intensity in his stance and stare sends my pulse racing.
Nash's long strides force me to jog to keep up as we move toward the house. "Something doesn't feel right, like eyes are on us. I might be paranoid, but I'm not taking any chances. Not when it comes to you."
Back pressed against the mudroom wall, I try to steady my breathing from the quick jog as he peers through the back door, phone at his ear, talking to Raider about the new development.
"They’ll circle back," Nash says as he stuffs the phone back into his front pocket. "Should be here in half an hour or so."
"Okay," I think I say, but it's hard to tell with my full attention focused on his ass. Damn, he's hot. And for reasons unknown, the danger, this intensity sends my hormones into overdrive. "Nash," I say, now staring at his flexing inked arms, but he's too focused out the back door to hear my lusty plea.
Fine. Time to take things into my own hands. Literally. Careful not to startle him, I press my chest against his back and wrap my arms around his waist.
"It’ll be fine, Pops," he says with a reassuring pat to my arm.
Damn, he's oblivious to the fact that I need him, now. But he won't be for long. Dipping my hands beneath his shirt, I relish in the hard ripples of his ab muscles.
"Um, Pops, whatcha doing?"
"Hmm?" I hum against his
back, too lost in the sensations of feeling up his chest. Done exploring above the belt, I dip a hand into his jeans. We both let out a throaty groan as I wrap a hand around him and squeeze.
"Fuck, what the hell are you doing?" Nash says through gritted teeth. "There could be someone out there who wants to kill you. You understand that, right?"
"Mmhmm," is all I can muster.
He groans and presses his forehead against the door. "I won't risk you."
"You mentioned a safe room...."
"Fuck, I love you so much right now." Wiggling my hand out of his pants, he pulls me down the back hall into a decent-sized office. Visions of him bending me over the desk play out in my head until I'm yanked into a room that wasn't here a second ago.
A loud clang of bolts snapping into place vibrates the metal walls I have two seconds to take in before my hoodie is pulled off and the T-shirt ripped over my head.
My naked back slams against the cold metal of the door, but the warmth of his lips against my neck is what makes me shiver. "We don't have much time," he says, then bites the upper part of my breast before sinking to his knees to work on opening my jeans. Careful to keep me steady, Nash lifts one foot and then the other before sliding the pants across the floor.
Now his turn.
My fingers fumble at the hem of his T-shirt, anxious to have his skin against mine. He helps pull it over his head as I work on his belt and jeans. They only make it halfway down before he scoops me up, wraps my legs around his waist and sinks deep between them.
His lips press against mine, swallowing my gasp. Fingers grip my ass, and the metal of the door bites into my back, but hell if I care. Each push of his hips hits a tender spot, making me want more. On the other side of the door, the perimeter alarm beeps.
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