Ben Porter was already waiting for her when Caitlin walked into the NEST offices at 10:00 a.m. It seemed her schedule that day was about to change.
“I figured we’d start early,” Porter told her smoothly. “That way your mind is fresh.” He frowned at her. “You looked like you haven’t slept well.”
“Too much to drink last night,” Caitlin lied. She didn’t sleep until 3:00 a.m. She heard Travis open her door at around midnight, but he didn’t come into her room. She’d felt his eyes drilling into her in the dark. She held her breath until she heard the door close, and his quiet footfalls faded back into his room.
“Everything well between you and Blake?”
“Same old. Same old,” Caitlin muttered.
“He needs his wife back.”
“I’m not Sarah.”
“That’s not what I meant,” Porter replied evenly. “You mean everything to him, Caitlin. I hope you’re not too blind to recognize that fact.”
“I think you’re wrong there. He said I was a nightmare to live with.”
Porter frowned. “He said those exact words?”
Caitlin fidgeted in her seat. “No. Not exactly.” Damn. Maybe she twisted his words a bit too conveniently.
“Blake was pissed that I went behind his back. He said he’d find a way to come up with the hundred million if that would keep you out of CIA hands.”
Her gut fell from under her. “He said that?”
Porter nodded. “So you see, my dear, I don’t think I’m wrong about him.”
Oh, God. She had been such a bitch to him. So unfair. Caitlin felt nauseous with guilt. She would make it up to him tonight. She hoped she wasn’t too late. The sooner she got out of here, the better she could prepare a special evening for them.
She turned on her laptop and swiveled it to face Porter. “Your files.”
The look on Porter’s face was priceless. The normally serious expression he wore was shocked beyond description. For all his asshole behavior to her, it was rewarding enough to witness this.
“You broke the encryption?” he rasped.
“Yes.” Caitlin grinned cheekily.
“When?”
“Last night. Just when Travis came home.”
“He didn’t mention this to me.”
“He didn’t want you to ruin our evening.”
“You seemed to have done a fine job of that yourself,” the admiral replied dryly.
Arggh! She could never get in the last word with him.
“The password on one of the files sounded oddly familiar.”
Porter leaned in curiously. “Which one?”
“Hephaestus.”
“What about it?”
“I feel like it’s connected with another file.”
“Not the ones holding the Russian bank accounts?”
Caitlin shook her head. “Not sure.”
Porter handed her a flash drive. “This is your second assignment. You can load it on your laptop.”
“You’re such a slave driver.”
The admiral stood up and smiled. “You’re a smart girl, Ms. Kincaid. Enjoy the rest of your day.”
As it turned out, the brain spectrometer technician didn’t show up for work that day, so Caitlin was saved from an hour of what she called brainwash torture. She was happy to go home early and excited to see Travis. Her session with Dr. Lester went smoothly. Caitlin admitted that the little tidbit that Porter had told her about Travis’s willingness to pay the hundred million himself was huge and erased any doubt in her mind about his motives with her. And she finally came to terms with something about herself: she was indeed a pain in the ass.
Sam was waiting for her in the reception area, surprised to see her leave early.
“All done?”
“Yup. Can you take me to the grocery?”
“No problem.”
They got into the elevator. Sam looked at her with a sly smile. “Not planning to burn another roast, are you?”
Caitlin laughed and gave Sam a playful punch. “Your confidence in my cooking skills is gratifying.”
The young man chuckled. “Don’t worry, Caitlin. I won’t tell Mr. Blake.”
Their car was once again parked near the elevator banks. She felt Sam stiffen beside her when they approached their car. Four men were walking toward them. Their eyes intensely concentrated on her and Sam.
“Sam—” she started nervously, adrenalin started to pump into her system.
“Tamp it down, Caitlin.” So Travis had warned him.
“But you need my help.”
“You can’t identify friend from foe.” Ah, yes, there was that one problem.
The men got closer and stopped a few feet from them.
The tallest and meanest looking of them addressed Sam. “Give us the girl, and we’ll let you live.” One of them flashed his firearm to stress their point.
“You don’t want to make her mad,” Sam nodded to Caitlin.
A stocky but shorter goon stepped forward and said, “You don’t want to make me mad either.”
Another one like her and Jase? What was going on?
If Sam was stiff before, he was rock solid now. They were outnumbered, especially with her being a wildcard. She didn’t want Sam to die because Komarov wanted his money.
“I’ll go with you,” Caitlin announced, stepping in front of Sam.
“What? Damn it, Caitlin!” Sam yanked her arm and deposited her behind him. “Run back to the NEST. I’ll hold them off.”
“Are you nuts?” Caitlin hissed. They didn’t have much time; her veins were popping with energy.
The elevator dinged and two strangers stepped out. They froze when they saw the standoff.
The taller of Komarov’s goons, wary they might make a run back into the elevator, signaled for his men to strike. The other two went for Sam; the stockier guy went after her.
All hell broke loose.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Travis couldn’t concentrate on the staff meeting. His thoughts kept replaying the events from the night before. He was at the end of his rope, not knowing what to do with Caitlin. Everything he said to her, she’d twist into something ugly. Although, admittedly he shouldn’t have used the word nightmare to her, but he didn’t mean living with her was a nightmare, damn it. How could she take his words that way when a life with her was all he’d ever craved? And that was what pissed him off enough to leave the room last night. Yes, he was angry. He was so desperate to tie her to him; he wanted to get her pregnant. Jesus. Who does that?
Him. He wanted a child with her.
Fuck. What a mess.
“Blake?” Shephard’s voice broke through his thoughts.
“What? Sorry, what was the question?”
Shephard sighed and glanced at Nate who was also frowning at Travis. Emily and two other team managers were also in attendance. “Were you even listening, man?”
“Sorry,” Travis muttered.
“We were talking about the Kennedy account. It looks like things are going well, and they’re already talking about contracting with us full-time for the rest of the year.”
“That’s awesome.” Travis forced a smile.
A phone beeped somewhere and Emily stared at her cell phone. “Someone’s at the reception area. I am not aware of any appointments today.”
Emily left the conference room to check who had entered the front office.
“Still not going well between you and Caitlin?” Nate asked.
“Seriously, Reece, you’re bringing this up at a staff meeting?” Travis snapped. His personal life was his business.
“Yes. You’ve been distracted, and it’s affecting your work,” Nate shot back.
Before the situation deteriorated further, Emily came back, pale as a white sheet. Two Metropolitan police officers were behind her.
“Travis . . .” Emily said, her voice cracking.
The look on Emily’s face, coupled with the grim expressions on the uniforms’ faces, sent a frisson of dread
slicing through his chest. He could barely force words out his mouth. “What’s going on?”
“Sir, do you know a Caitlin Kincaid and Sam Harper?”
*****
Travis couldn’t get to Georgetown Medical fast enough. He summoned every nerve-centering technique he had learned as a SEAL so as not to lose his shit. Nate was with him. Though his friend’s calm kept him in check, it still didn’t take away the reality that he wouldn’t survive losing her a second time. Speed limits were broken, but luckily he wasn’t pulled over, because they would have to arrest him at the hospital. His priority was making sure Caitlin was okay. The officers who showed up at BSI couldn’t tell him about Caitlin’s condition, only that they had been called to a scene of what appeared to be an attempted abduction.
He burst into the ER, Nate at his heels.
“Caitlin Kincaid and Sam Harper?” Travis growled at the receptionist.
“You are?”
“Caitlin’s husband.”
She checked her screen and said, “Ms. Kincaid is in room 4.”
“How about Mr. Harper?” Nate asked
“Are you a relative, sir?”
“No. A co-worker.”
“I’m sorry, I can’t divulge such information.”
“Damn it,” Travis swore. “Nate, take care of Sam, and let me know immediately what you find out. I’m going to see Caitlin.”
He got buzzed through the double doors of the ER and immediately found the room. He slowly expelled the breath he didn’t realize he was holding. Relief hit him. He leaned against the doorframe to calm his racing pulse. She was okay. Thank fuck, she was okay.
Caitlin was sitting up on a hospital bed; a doctor was checking her vitals. Rage warred with concern when he saw the doctor palpitate her abdomen, exposing the discolorations that were forming.
“Caitlin,” he whispered raggedly.
“Travis?” Her voice was groggy.
“Are you her husband?” the doctor asked as he double-checked the information on the clipboard.
“Yes. Travis Blake. How is she?”
“Her x-rays checked out okay. There are some bruising and abrasions.”
“Sam . . . Travis . . .” she whispered.
“Ms. Kincaid, you do realize it’s our belief that Mr. Harper drugged you?”
“What?” Travis asked.
“An injector was found close to her,” the doctor informed him. “And witnesses say Mr. Harper stabbed her with it.”
Holy Fuck! Sam administered the anti-serum.
“He was helping me . . .” Caitlin muttered.
“She’s still out of it,” the doctor told Travis quietly. “We’re still waiting for the toxicology report. I’ll go fast track that right now.”
When the doctor left the room, Travis raised his hand to touch Caitlin’s face. The overwhelming panic had receded, but another one was slowly gripping his heart in a vise. She was nearly taken from him, and with how things ended with them last night, regret churned in his gut. There was no place for bullshit pride or anger in their relationship.
“I’m so sorry, Cat.”
“For what?” Her eyes were struggling to stay open.
“For not being there to protect you.”
“Not your . . . fault.” Her lids slid shut, her breathing evened out. She had fallen into her deep slumber.
“Trav?” Nate whispered behind him.
Travis turned around and was surprised to see Sam, with his arm in a sling, standing beside Nate.
“Are you all right, Harper?” Travis asked.
“Yes, boss.” The younger man’s face was filled with remorse. “Sir, I am so sorry—”
“Not your fault,” Travis cut him off quickly. It is mine. “What the hell happened?”
“We can’t talk here,” Nate said. “There are two detectives in the reception area waiting to speak to Harper and Caitlin.”
“Not happening,” Travis growled.
“That’s what I told them.”
“Call Porter.”
“He called me actually,” Nate said. “When he couldn’t get a hold of you. You forgot your phone somewhere. He’s handling it.”
“Shit. I left it in the car,” Travis said. He looked at Caitlin. “I’m taking her home.”
“Shouldn’t you wait for the all clear from the doctor?”
“They’re just waiting for the toxicology report, and if Porter’s handling it . . .”
There wasn’t going to be one.
*****
It took a shit ton of paperwork to clear the hospital of any liability for taking Caitlin home against medical advice, especially in the absence of a toxicology report. But Travis got it done. Dealing with the detectives was a different matter.
They were having a standoff at the hospital entrance. Travis had deposited a sleeping Caitlin into his car, turned around, and glared at the two detectives who followed him outside.
The one who identified himself as Detective Moore spoke first. “I don’t care what my captain says; this reeks like a big stinking pile of cow dung. Two of the Russian thugs are in custody, and two got away. They’re after your wife. Why?”
“Take my advice, Detective,” Travis said. “Back off. You don’t want to get involved in this.”
“You’re some hotshot security expert, Mr. Blake, but you’re not above the law,” the second detective known as Smithers said. “We want to know how two people—one of them female—were able to fight off four Russian mob soldiers.”
“Watch it, Detective, you’re sounding like a chauvinist,” Nate interjected.
“Bullshit. Something’s going on in that facility. Some weird shit,” Moore said, watching their reactions intently. “Witnesses are tight-lipped except what one of them let slip about your man here”—he nodded to Sam—“stabbing your wife with an injector. What is it, some kind of drug? Is that what this is all about? Drugs?”
Travis was relieved that Sam had already mastered the poker face. “You’re overreaching,” Travis said. “Your captain already told you to drop it.”
“Your wife has drawn dangerous elements into my jurisdiction. It has now become my goddamned problem!” Moore fired back.
“I’m taking my wife home,” Travis said. “You delay me any further, I’ll be calling the MPD police chief.”
“The great Travis Blake,” Smithers sneered. “Think you’re so well-connected. Well, I find out your wife is in bed with the Russian drug cartel, no one—not even you—can save her. I can put her away for thirty years.”
He could take threats against him, but against Caitlin? These fuckers had gone too far. Travis clenched his fists and made a move toward the detectives, but Nate blocked him.
“Assaulting a police officer in DC is a felony, Mr. Blake,” Moore smirked. “I hear it seems to be a habit of yours.”
“Get the fuck out of my sight,” Travis growled.
“We’ll let you go for now,” Moore said. “But you’ll be hearing from us.”
When both detectives were out of earshot, Nate turned on him. “What the hell, Travis? Do you want to get thrown into jail? Leash your fucking temper, goddamnit!”
“He threatened my wife, Nate. He’s lucky I didn’t lay him out right here,” Travis snapped as he made his way to the driver’s side. “Harper, Audi’s still at the NEST?”
“Yes, sir.”
“We’ll leave it there for now. We’re going home. I want to know every fucking detail that happened.”
*****
Travis settled Caitlin amidst the cushions of the comfy sofa in the living room. He couldn’t bear to let her out of his sight right now, so they were having the debriefing in the dining room where he could keep an eye on her. He was losing his fucking mind with his paranoia. Disappearing with her to a remote island somewhere was beginning to sound very appealing.
He took a six-pack of beer out of the fridge, pulled the tab on one and handed it to Sam. He offered another one to Nate before breaking one out for himsel
f. Gesturing for them to take a seat, he said, “So, what the fuck happened, Sam? It just occurred to me that you all were leaving earlier than usual. Why is that?”
“I’ve been on that same tangent as well, Sir.” No matter how many times he had told Sam to call him Travis or Blake, he insisted on formalities. “I never asked Caitlin why we left early.”
“Anything from Porter?” Nate asked Travis.
“He hasn’t returned my call yet,” Travis said grimly. And it was bugging the hell out of him. Someone told Komarov’s men exactly when and where to nab Caitlin. She was not returning to the NEST. No way in hell. He jerked his chin to prod Sam to continue.
“Two came at me. The one that went after Caitlin said he was like her.”
“What?” Travis and Nate exclaimed in unison. Fuck. Caitlin fought off a specter agent?
“I’ve never seen anything like him,” Sam added. “Or Caitlin. Hot damn, both of them moved fast. But the man seemed to be more in control of his abilities and had been consciously trying not to hurt her. I guess they needed her alive. Caitlin was just feral. It was freaky to see.”
Yes. Travis had witnessed this first hand.
Sam huffed. “The other two were not hard to fight off. When the third—their leader joined in, it became more challenging. But I still managed.”
“You dislocated your shoulder, buddy,” Nate snorted.
“That was courtesy of Caitlin.”
For the second time during the debriefing, the two men were stunned.
“Caitlin went after you?”
“Yes. But she wasn’t herself, and I baited her,” Sam said. “Our assailants heard the police sirens. Caitlin had already knocked her attacker down, and I had one guy unconscious as well. The other two ran. Caitlin was going after them. The car was parked in front of the elevators, so I grabbed the injector. I called her attention.”
“She came at me.” Harper closed his eyes briefly. “I managed to evade her and come up behind her to dig the injector into her neck. She didn’t go down easily. She bent and threw me over her shoulder. I have no fucking idea how I ended up face planted on concrete, my right arm behind me. Well . . . here I am.”
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