Truth In The Lie (The Leonidas Corporation Book 2)

by Tarina Deaton

  He nodded.

  “Braedon and I have always shared a connection. When we were babies, if one of us was sick, the other one threw up. It made doctor’s visits hell on our mom. We always knew when the other was hurt or hurting. I knew he was on that mission and I knew something was wrong.” She swiped her fingers under her eye, catching the tear before it could fall. “I know he’s not dead because I would feel it. Instead, I feel him. He’s not dead, but he’s not okay either. And no one will do anything about it because no one believes me. Everyone thinks I’m overcome with grief and in denial, so I’ve convinced myself he’s alive.”

  Addison shook her head, pressing her lips together.

  Devon took another step closer and touched her elbow. “I believe you.”

  “Why?”

  Up close, he could see the lighter flecks in her blue eyes. “The company I work for was contacted regarding one of the other men on the op and we came across information about your brother. I can’t share it with you here. Can you make it to Charleston next week?”

  Two small lines formed between her brows. “South Carolina?”

  “Yes.”

  “I guess,” she said.

  Releasing her elbow, he pulled out his wallet and took out a business card, handing it to her. “Here’s the address and my contact number. If you can be there Monday, I’ll set up a meeting with the head of the company at zero nine hundred. Does that work?”

  She looked down at the card and back at him. “Yes.”

  He nodded and returned his wallet to his back pocket. “I promise I’m not trying to be cryptic on purpose. I think it would be better for you to get all the information at once, and I was only told the basics on the drive up here yesterday.”

  “Okay.”

  “Would you like some company while you walk?” he asked.

  “No, thank you. I need some time alone.”

  “All right. Call if you need anything before Monday.” He shoved his hands in his pockets to keep them to himself instead of pulling her into his arms and telling her everything would be okay. He couldn’t make that promise just yet, and she probably wouldn’t appreciate the gesture from a complete stranger. He turned to leave, only getting a couple of steps.

  “Devon?”

  He turned back around, ignoring the pulse low in his groin at hearing her say his name. She still held his business card in both hands. “Yes?”

  “Would you have told me about Braedon if you hadn’t overheard me?”

  “The plan was to contact your parents. After hearing your uncle’s response, I thought it best to speak to you first.”

  “Are you still going to speak to my parents?”

  “I can, if you think that’s best.”

  She shook her head. “No. I’ll—I don’t think telling them right now would accomplish anything.”

  “I’ll leave that up to you,” he said.

  “Thanks.” She turned and continued on the path toward the Tomb.

  Chapter 3

  Addison pulled her truck into a spot in front of the nondescript two-story building and shifted into park. This appeared to be the right place, at least according to the GPS. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but an old office building in the middle of an overgrown parking lot near the docks wasn’t it.

  She glanced at the dash clock, then back at the front of the building. She wasn’t that early for her nine o’clock appointment, but there were no other cars in the parking lot. Maybe the employees parked in back and had a separate entrance?

  The Leonidas Corporation. Addison huffed out a short laugh. Either someone was a serious military history buff or they’d watched the movie 300 one too many times. Not that she hadn’t—especially that scene with Gerard Butler’s butt on display.

  She’d suspected from the name of the company that the owner had been in Special Forces. A quick internet search had confirmed her suspicions. It made sense. Most of them viewed themselves as modern-day Spartans—vanguards and defenders of freedom.

  Who knew…maybe these guys were. She dropped her head against the headrest. Maybe she’d become too cynical and disillusioned over the course of too many deployments and no resolution to the problems of the world. It was hard to hold on to hope when the most important person in her life was missing.

  She picked up the business card from the center console.

  Devon Nash.

  Shivers prickled along her spine. She’d racked her brain trying to remember if Braedon had ever mentioned him but kept drawing a blank. Not that it meant anything—Braedon had mentioned a lot of his teammates in passing, usually by call-sign, and other than the few he’d dragged home for random Christmases because their families were too far away, Addison had never met any of them.

  Still, something about him was…familiar. Her reaction at Arlington had been visceral. Like a rubber band pulled too tight, waiting to snap back and yank them together, she’d felt incomprehensibly drawn to him. It had taken all her self-preservation not to ask him to hold her. If he’d offered, she would have curled up into him and sobbed out all her worries into his shoulder.

  That reaction more than anything had her guard up. She was not that woman—the damsel in distress who needed all her problems taken care of by the big strong man. She did not damsel.

  The dash clock showed 8:52 and there were still no other cars in the parking lot. Turning off the ignition, she threw her phone into her purse and hopped down. That was a lot easier to do in her normal boots than today’s wedges.

  Clicking the key fob to lock the doors out of habit more than anything else, she approached the glass double doors, pushing through them into the empty vestibule. Another set of glass double doors led into an open foyer where a large security desk stood.

  “Hi. My name is Addison Foster. I have a nine o’clock appointment,” she said.

  The guard, an older man who bore a striking resemblance to Sam Elliott, flipped over a magazine and stood, holding out his hand.

  “Aiden Graham.”

  His rough palm enveloped hers, his index finger resting against the inside of her wrist.

  Retired Special Forces—she’d bet another five dollars.

  She cocked her head. “I’m meeting with Aiden Graham,” she said. “But I don’t think you’re him.”

  “My son. Aiden Graham Junior. I’m Senior.” He walked around the desk and gestured to the corridor to her right. “I was apparently annoying everyone by hanging around doing nothing, so they put me on the payroll.”

  “How long have you been retired?”

  “Longer than I was not retired, but I like to be in the thick of things.” He gave her a sheepish smile. “So, Junior put me to work in the hopes of keeping me out of his hair.”

  “Does it work?” she asked.

  “It might. If he had any hair.”

  Addison chuckled at his response. “Are you security or receptionist?”

  “I fill in where I’m needed. Down in the range. Backfill for security every now and then. Today I’m filling in as receptionist since another one quit, and the temp agency doesn’t have anyone to fill the position. Or so they say.”

  She felt like there was more to the story but didn’t have a chance to ask as they entered a large open office space. Again, not what she expected.

  Except for the area toward the back littered with computer equipment, the entire area was open. Not a cubicle to be found. Instead it was a hodge-podge of desks and workstations.

  “Don’t mind the mess,” Aiden Senior said. “We’re still moving in and setting up.”

  “How long have you been in the building?” she asked.

  “The sale was finalized a few months ago, but some of the reconstruction took a little longer than expected. Junior’s office is back here.”

  She’d missed the office tucked into the far back corner of the space.

  The senior Graham rapped twice on the door and pushed it open. “Nine o’clock’s here.”

  Addison step
ped into the office. Aiden Graham Junior stood from behind his desk and approached with his hand outstretched. She had to tilt her head back as he came close. A few inches taller than his father, he almost towered over her. But it was more than his height. She was used to being around men who exuded constrained energy, but Aiden took it to a whole other level. His presence took up physical space as if his body was too small to contain all of him.

  “Thank you for coming on such short notice, Major Foster,” he said.

  “Of course. I just hope the trip won’t be in vain,” she said.

  “I don’t think that will be the case at all.” He looked at his father. “Dad, since you’re going to hover around anyway, can you get everyone over to the conference room?”

  The two men held a stare-off, left eyebrows cocked in an almost identical expression of challenge. Aiden’s lifted slightly higher, and his father’s lips twitched.

  “On it,” Senior said with a nod.

  Once his back was turned, Aiden closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead, mumbling something under his breath Addison didn’t catch.

  “Would you like something to drink, Major Foster? Coffee or water?” he asked.

  “I could use another coffee. Addison is fine.”

  He nodded. “Let’s see if there’s some fresh coffee in the kitchen. And call me Graham.”

  “Doesn’t that get confusing with your father also being Aiden Graham?”

  “Not usually. Everyone calls him Senior. The only time we run into issues is when someone calls and asks for Mr. Graham.” He turned a corner and walked through an open doorway into a fully equipped kitchen.

  Two men crowded around a petite Latina woman. She stood facing them, arms out in a protective gesture, a fierce and angry look on her face.

  “What’s going on?” Graham asked.

  “Tell them to back off, Graham.” The woman kept her focus on the men as if they were velociraptors and she was Chris Pratt.

  “We just want some coffee, Ange,” the man on the right said.

  “You can have it when it’s finished brewing,” she said. “And after I get my cup.”

  The guy on the left groaned dramatically. “That’s going to take forever. I need caffeine now.”

  “Then you should have fixed the pot yourself instead of waiting for me to fix it,” the woman said.

  The second man took a small step closer. “But you make it best, Angie. That’s why we ask you to do it.”

  Her eyes narrowed to slits. “Bullshit. You ask me to make it because you’re a lazy, entitled, chauvinist a—”

  “Angela,” Graham said, a stern warning in his voice. “We have a client.” He looked at Addison out of the corner of his eye. “Sorry about this.”

  The corners of her mouth tugged up. She hadn’t heard any true animosity in Angela’s voice. It reminded Addison of fighting with her brother more than anything. “No problem.”

  Angela, defender of caffeine and feminism, shifted her now wide-eyed gaze to them. She dropped her arms and stood up straight as the two men turned.

  “Oh. Oh! You’re Major Foster. I’m so sorry for…them.” She waved her hand in front of the men. “And that you had to see this.”

  Addison smiled. “That’s okay.”

  “It’s just that they try to pour coffee before the entire carafe is full, and it messes with the strength and taste of the coffee,” Angela said.

  “I understand completely,” Addison said.

  “I’m Angie.” She took a step forward before realizing her mistake.

  “No!” She spun and lunged at the counter, but one of the men caught her around the waist and hefted her under his arm.

  “Don’t ruin the brew!” She flailed at the coffee pot while the man not holding her pulled the carafe from the hot plate and poured coffee into a cup.

  Graham released a long-suffering sigh while Addison failed to stop the soft laugh that escaped. It might have been the first time she’d laughed honestly in weeks.

  “Conference room in ten minutes,” Graham said. “Bring Major Foster and me cups of coffee. After it’s finished brewing.”

  Shaking his head, Graham gestured for Addison to return the way they came. “I’m sorry about that. I promise you my people are very good at their jobs, despite their juvenile behavior just now.”

  She stopped in the corridor and faced him. “Don’t. Their behavior, juvenile or not, tells me more about your company and you than I can get from your website. That”—she pointed toward the break room—“tells me your people trust you enough to be who they are. I’d rather see that than a bunch of stiff suits with too much composure and bearing.”

  She swallowed hard before softening her voice. “I’d rather see empathy in someone’s eyes when they realize who I am instead of dollar signs, which is all I’ve seen so far.”

  He glanced toward the break room and the faint sounds of laughter. “Thank you. I worked for a few companies before starting TLC and I didn’t want to run a company like any of the ones I worked for.” He cocked his head back toward the main area. “Still, I promise you, we are all very good at what we do.”

  “I asked around about you—I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t already know that.”

  “That’s good to know,” he said.

  “What’s good to know?”

  Addison turned toward the voice. Whoa. In contrast to the khakis or jeans and polos with the company logo everyone else wore, the woman coming down the hall screamed bombshell in a knee-length black skirt, sky-blue blouse, and four-inch platform heels. Combined with the black-framed glasses, the woman gave off a sexy librarian/dominatrix vibe that made Addison question her sexuality the same way Ruby Rose did.

  By comparison, Addison’s peep-toe wedges, fitted slacks, and wrap blouse, which she’d thought understated and professional, were dowdy. Ruby Rose wouldn’t give her a second look with this woman around.

  “That Addison heard good things about us when she asked around,” Graham said. “Addison, this is Paige Davis, Chief Operations Officer for Leonidas. Truthfully, this company wouldn’t be nearly as successful as it is if it wasn’t for her. She runs things while I get to run around the ass-end of the world and still play soldier.”

  Paige shook Addison’s outstretched hand. “It’s good to meet you. I’m sorry it had to be under these circumstances.”

  “Me too,” Addison said.

  “Paige, can you take Addison to the conference room while I round up the children? They’re arguing over coffee again,” Graham said.

  “Sure. Grab me a cup while you’re in there if Angie will let you near the pot.”

  “Ha.” Graham walked back to the break room, leaving her with Paige.

  “I’m sure he already apologized for whatever they were getting up to,” Paige said as they continued down the hall.

  “He did. I assured him there was no need. It’s nice to see a group of people comfortable enough at work to be who they really are.”

  Paige opened a door at the end of the hall, revealing a room with the requisite long conference table and the largest T.V. Addison had ever seen.

  “Wow, that’s a big screen.”

  “Right?” Paige asked. “I suggested a standard projection screen. You would have thought I said we should get a black chalkboard and do math calculations with an abacus the way Angie reacted. I will admit it’s great when we do movie night, but don’t tell her I said that.”

  Addison smiled at her conspiratorial tone. What was it about this group of people that had her smiling and laughing more than she had in the past two months?

  Voices carried down the hall, and Graham and the three people from the coffee conflict filed into the room.

  Angie carried a tray with cups of coffee. “I didn’t know how you liked your coffee, so I brought sugar and creamer,” she said.

  “Black is fine,” Addison said, accepting one of the mugs.

  “We’re waiting on a couple more people and then we’ll get started,” Gr
aham said. “Sorry for the delay—there was an accident on the bridge and they got stuck behind it.”

  Butterflies took flight in her stomach as she recalled exactly why she was there. They had information on Braedon. They’d been able to distract her for the last half hour, something that rarely happened, but now her fingers began to tingle as her nerves set in.

  A tall, well-built, and tattooed man sauntered into the room. “Sorry we’re late. Bridge. Accident. Stopped to help.”

  “I know,” Graham said. “Devon called.”

  Devon strode in behind the first man and managed to suck all the air out of the room. That was the only explanation Addison had for why she was suddenly breathless. His blue-gray eyes bore into hers when their gazes met, and she fought not to look away. The intensity of his stare felt like a physical caress as he searched her face.

  “All right,” Graham said. “Let’s get started.”

  Chapter 4

  “Dad, you want to join us instead of lurking around the corner?” Graham asked.

  Addison looked down at the table to hide her smile.

  “I was just passing by to get some coffee,” the elder Graham said.

  “Uh-huh. Grab a seat,” Graham said.

  Graham Senior sat in the seat closest to the door and slouched down, folding his hands over his stomach. He caught Addison watching him and winked.

  Graham ran a hand across the top of his head. “Let me start with proper introductions. You’ve met Paige. Angie Rodriguez, who you met briefly earlier, is our IT, cyber, and network specialist. Turner Breslin is our pilot. Jeremy Owens is weapons and locksmith. Christian Knight is our master mechanic, and Devon, who you met last week, is one of our personal security specialists. We have a few more guys who are currently on assignment that we may pull in depending on what’s required.”

  Addison said hello to the two men who’d been in the break room, the man who’d entered ahead of Devon, then Devon.

  “Angie?” Paige prompted.

  “Right.” The petite woman picked up a wireless keyboard and her fingers flew across the keys.

  The large screen flickered to life with service pictures of Braedon and one of his teammates, Michael Drake. Addison blinked hard, unwilling to let the tears fall.