Heather’s head came up and she watched me, but I couldn’t read her expression.
“That’s when things got bad for me. At first, he told me I couldn’t leave the apartment because someone might recognize me and it would blow my cover. When my wrist healed, though, he told me that he needed me to help track the people who were using my software. I went along at first, but then he started asking for modifications to the software, telling me lies about what he was doing with it. One afternoon, I insisted on leaving the apartment. That’s when I realized he wasn’t on the right side of the equation.”
I stood up and began to pace, remembering things I’d tried to push away for a long time. Long days sitting at the computer, knowing that when I was done people were going to be hurt. Listening to him on the phone, pretending to be the good man he had been, lying to Luke and other people who trusted him, who believed he was helping them.
When he spoke to Dominic, assuring him that his partner in France had been killed by an unseen enemy when in actuality he was the enemy. I knew he was the one who had ordered her death; I knew what he did to her. I saw the pictures. He threatened to do the same thing to Megan if I didn’t keep working for him.
“All the time he held me there, all the time he forced me to do things I will never forgive myself for, I kept thinking about Amber, about our child. I kept imagining the family we would one day be. I had no idea that she’d already moved on without me.”
I learned the truth just shortly after being rescued. Megan told me.
“There’s something going on with Cole,” I said after he came to see me in the hospital in California.
“Yeah?”
“He’s different. Calmer.”
“He is.”
“Why?”
She climbed up onto the bed beside me and took my hand. “After you died—or whatever it was—Amber was pregnant and alone. She was scared. She came to me like you told her to, and I had Cole look out for her. He delivered her baby.”
“No kidding!”
“Yeah. She went into labor on the side of the road and he delivered PJ. And then he insisted on moving her in with him so that he could help her out and watch over her.”
“He loves her.”
It wasn’t a question. It was a statement.
“Yeah. They got married a couple of months ago. And they’re expecting another baby.”
I nodded. “When I first met her, I thought, this girl is the kind of girl who would find Cole really exciting.” I sighed. “I knew it wouldn’t last. I was more of the older brother figure to her. But I’m glad she found happiness.”
“They’re both deliriously happy. Will that be weird for you?”
“I don’t know. Maybe at first. But I’ll get used to it.”
It was weird. It was still weird, but not because of Amber. I respected her. I cared for her. But I’d never been in love with her. But I fell in love with my son the moment I learned of his existence. It was hard, being an uncle to the child that kept me alive in the worst moments of my life, that gave me a reason to keep fighting. He was my purpose for surviving that ordeal, and I lost him before I ever had him.
“I respect Amber. I know that she loves Cole. I know that they have a wonderful marriage. I’m even happy for them, for the fact that they were able to achieve something some people work their whole lives to have. But PJ …”
“Did you ever love her?”
Her voice was weak. Sad. I turned from my pacing, returned to my chair, and reached for her hands. She didn’t pull away. I saw that as a good sign.
“I made myself believe I did while I was being held captive. I imagined this whole scenario where we got married and raised our child together. But it was just a little game. When I came home, I realized I never knew her well enough to have a realistic understanding of who she was. So … I loved my imaginings of her. I didn’t love her.”
Heather nodded slowly. “Why did you give up the baby?”
“By the time I came back, he was over a year old. He knew Cole as his father, and he was happy in his life. I couldn’t make myself rip him from that.”
“He was only a year old.”
I dropped my head a little. “And I was fucked up, Heather. The things that man made me do …” I let go of her hand and ran my fingers through my hair. “I was back in a life that no longer felt like it was mine. I was going through routines that felt foreign. And then there was his arrest and all the mess that went with the legal process. He never really went on trial. He pled guilty. But it was still hard. Maybe harder than a trial would have been because I never had the chance to look him in the eye and show him that I’d survived, you know?”
She touched my face lightly. “You quit your job?”
“I quit everything for a while. I traveled. Then I came back and convinced my sister to hire me at her security firm. They all thought it was a joke at first, but I do all right. My dad is still hoping I’ll come back to the telecommunications firm, but I think that part of my life is over. Besides, Cole’s there now.”
“You and Cole aren’t close anymore?”
“We have dinner a couple of times a month. But when I look at him, I see my failures as a father.”
She nodded as though she understood everything I’d said. Which was funny, because I didn’t understand it.
“I hate that I gave him up. I hate that I wasn’t here for him. I hate that that man took all this away from me. I had a plan; I had a life! But he destroyed it all!”
I was getting agitated. I started to stand, needing to walk off some of that energy. I didn’t even realize that my hands had balled themselves into fists until she grabbed my arm, until she was dragging me back down into my chair, her hands sliding over my angry hands.
“You have every right to be angry. He did steal everything from you. But by being this angry, you’re giving him power over you.” She pressed a kiss to my fist. “When my mom sent me away, I was so angry that I couldn’t breathe. I wanted to scream at her; I wanted to tell her that it was unfair what she was doing. But mostly I wanted to know why she stopped loving me, because that had to be why she pushed me away, right? But then James told me that anger was a useless emotion. That it was a power I was giving her over me. That when I stopped being angry, I might begin to answer my own questions.”
I shook my head. “How do you stop being angry?”
“I don’t know. I’m still a little pissed, to be honest.”
I laughed. She reached up and kissed me softly.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I should have told you all of this a lot sooner.”
“Tell me about the surrogate.”
I groaned. “It was stupid, really. I thought that if I had another child, one that was just mine, it would make losing PJ easier. At first, I set my sights on meeting the right girl and getting married, but most of the women I was dating either wanted the Bradford name or they knew about the whole California thing and they wanted to be around the notoriety, you know. None of them were interested in just me. So I gave up on that and decided it would be simple to have a child alone. I was actually looking into it when I met you.”
“I saw emails on your phone from some agency—”
“Oh, hell. I forgot to call and cancel all that.” I touched her face, running my thumb over her bottom lip. “It was stupid. I just thought … maybe I was just lonely. Or I thought a baby would anchor me somehow. I never should have done it.”
Silence fell between us for a long moment. Then she took my hand.
“Is that everything? There’s no more secrets?”
“No more secrets.”
She stood and tugged me to my feet. She crossed the room, her hips swaying nicely under the gentle cut of her dress. I got lost watching that movement and didn’t even realize where we were until she started up the stairs.
“Where are we going?”
“Upstairs. I think we’ve had a hell of a day. It’s time for a little fun. A hot bath. Maybe some pi
zza in bed.”
“Hmmm, that sounds like heaven.” I moved up behind her and slid my arms around her waist. “I think I’m falling in love with you,” I whispered against her neck.
She stopped and turned. “We’re having a kid. I hope it’s more than just think.”
I laughed. “It is. Definitely.”
She threw her arms around my neck and moved in for a tight hug.
“I love you, too.”
I lifted her into my arms and carried her the rest of the way to the bedroom, thinking that a bath would have to wait. But maybe pizza … in few hours.
I kicked open the door with my toe and stopped dead in my tracks.
There was a man standing in the middle of my bedroom.
Chapter 20
Megan
Luke moved up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist.
“You look amazing tonight.”
“I’m exhausted.”
“Your hosting duties are over. We should head home. The kids are still with your parents. We could have a few hours …”
I sighed, leaning back into him. Luke was the love of my life. We’d known each other since childhood, began dating in high school, and survived some of the hardest times any couple could face. He left me in order to protect me and my family from rogue CIA agents, changed his face so he could sneak back into my life, and battled to make everything right between us. There was no doubt in my mind that we were meant to be together.
But I was so worried about Peter that I couldn’t think about anything but him.
“What is it?”
I turned and looked up at Luke. “There have been rumors again. Someone working with Olsen might be coming after Peter.”
To his credit, Luke didn’t sigh, didn’t roll his eyes, didn’t do anything to show that he was exasperated by this game. But he also didn’t seem terribly concerned.
“Edgar Olsen is in prison. In fact, he’s more than likely in some CIA facility being tortured by the very people he betrayed with his actions. He doesn’t have contact with the outside world. He can’t communicate with the people who are still loyal to him, if there are even any still free to do anything.”
“I know all that. But the rumors might turn out to be true someday.”
“They might.”
“Peter doesn’t take them seriously. Hayden does, but Peter won’t let him do anything for him.”
“What makes you think he would let me? Peter hasn’t trusted me since I delivered him into the hands of his captor.”
“He doesn’t have to trust you if he doesn’t know you’re sitting outside his house watching for trouble.”
Luke did groan then. “Megan, Peter is a big boy. He can take care of himself. Besides, he lives in a gated community. It’s safe there.”
I just stared at him, boring into him until he had to look away. He sighed heavily, making it pretty clear that he didn’t agree with me.
“Okay. I’ll go sit outside his house. But I’m telling you, Peter is safer than Edgar in his prison cell.”
“Thank you.”
I reached up and kissed his cheek before pushing his shoulder, shoving him toward the door. I knew he was right. I knew the man who tortured my brother for two years was more than likely more broken than Peter had ever been. I knew that danger from the past was likely gone for good.
But I also knew that Peter was still broken and just the idea of danger added to the outburst his girlfriend had had at the party could push him into a dark place. If Luke was watching him, maybe we would know before Peter could disappear again. I didn’t think I could handle having him drop off the face of the earth for a third time. When he disappeared shortly after returning, when he went to travel the world without bothering to tell anyone, it had been one of the most frustrating, frightening times of my life.
I wanted my brother back. I needed Luke to understand that.
Chapter 21
Peter
I set Heather carefully on her feet and then pushed her back behind me, hiding her with my body as I turned toward the intruder. He had a gun, a .357, it looked like. A big gun.
“What are you doing here? How did you get into my house?”
“It’s easier than you’d think.”
The balcony door was open. It overlooked the front of the house. I couldn’t imagine how he’d gotten up there without one of my neighbors noticing. Or how he got into the neighborhood without passing the front gate. But he was here.
“I know you,” I said. “You’re Emmanuel Waters.”
“You are Peter Bradford. You fucked up my life.”
“How did I do that?”
“You didn’t recommend me for that sales job. I needed that sales job. The hike in salary would have meant the difference between my wife and kids staying with me or moving to Colorado with her parents.”
“Money would have saved your marriage?”
“My wife wanted more. She wanted dinners out and fancy clothes and nice cars. She wanted the life I promised her when we got married.”
“I understand that. I had a girl once who thought that marriage wouldn’t restrict her from dating.”
Emmanuel jerked the gun, aggravated by that. “My wife was not a cheater!”
I held up my hands. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”
“My wife was a saint. And now she’s gone, and it’s your fault!”
“I didn’t mean anything by it. I was just doing my job.”
“You picked Kitty! Kitty was in the middle of a damn divorce! Her husband was cheating on her! How was she a better choice than me?”
“She met the criteria better, that’s all.”
“How the fuck did she do that? I’m a church-going man! I’m a good man, respectful!” He waved the gun around. “It was that Malcolm, right? He told you something about me, told you that I had a moment of weakness with him?”
I felt Heather stiffen behind me. I reached back and held her closer against me, trying to tell her without words not to say anything.
Don’t let him get to you.
“Malcolm didn’t tell me anything. No one on that floor knew who I was while I was evaluating the three of you.”
“I don’t believe that. You were sleeping with Malcolm’s secretary.”
“I didn’t know until it was all over, Emmanuel,” Heather said.
He shook his head, waving the gun again. “Malcolm said the same thing, but I didn’t believe him, either.”
“No one knew. I am a lot of things, not all of them good. But I am damn good at my job. No one knew why I was there, and no one knew whom I was evaluating or whom I chose for the job. No one but me and my boss and the bosses at Reynold.”
“I saw your report. You listed me last.”
“I did.”
“Why?”
Because you’re a hypocrite who wouldn’t be able to handle the sensitive cultural issues associated with the job.
I couldn’t say that though.
“Kitty had the personality required for the job, and John had the language knowledge that would have come in handy for the job.”
“I know three languages. And I get along with everyone.”
I inclined my head. “I just felt those qualities were stronger in Kitty and John.”
“No!”
He took a step toward me, the gun raised. Heather tensed against my back.
“I deserved that job! I needed that damn job!”
He stood in front of me and pressed the barrel of the gun against my forehead. My heart skipped several beats, my automatic reaction the same as it had been when my captor strapped a dog collar with a bomb attached around my neck. Sit still and don’t aggravate the rabid dog. But I couldn’t do that anymore.
Without thinking about it, without calculating the danger of my choices, I reached up and grabbed his wrist, twisting it so that his body was forced to turn away from me. His finger was on the trigger and he squeezed, but I couldn’t think about where the bullet went.
I’d started this, I had to follow through.
I pushed him forward toward the bed, slamming him down as I twisted his wrist so hard that he had to drop the gun. The moment he hit the bed, he dissolved into sobs like a child caught stealing a cookie from the cookie jar.
No sooner did I have him on the bed than Luke burst through the door.
“What the hell? I heard a gunshot!”
Luke picked up the gun and came to the bed, staring down at the man sobbing on my bed. I ignored them both and went to Heather, my hands moving frantically over her, searching for an injury, for a wound from the stray bullet. She threw her arms around my neck before I could finish, pulling me close to her.
“Are you okay?” she demanded. “Are you hurt? I can’t believe you did that!”
“Are you okay?”
She nodded as she buried her face against my chest, a sob sliding through her body. I held her tight just as a wave of dizziness hit me. I stumbled forward a little. She pulled back and there was blood on the front of her dress. I didn’t understand it at first, but then she was pushing my jacket open.
“Oh, my God!”
Luke came over, took the situation in in a quick glance, and helped me back to the corner of the bed beside our sobbing attacker. Luke had managed to tie his hands behind his back with the cord from a lamp.
“Cops are on the way,” he said as he tore open the front of my shirt. There was a little hole, low on my chest, between a couple of ribs. As I looked at it, the pain suddenly tore through me. It burned like a son-of-a-gun. All that time that man held me captive, I’d never been shot, never knifed, or otherwise injured beyond the chafing from the bombs he liked to strap to my body.
I’m in my own house with my woman, looking forward to an early evening in bed, and I’m shot in my own bedroom.
The ironies of life.
Luke pulled off my shirt and looked at the wound, his jaw clenched as he evaluated it.
“It’s a through and through,” he said. “You’ll be okay.”
DRAGON SECURITY: Volume 2: The Complete 6 Books Series Page 14