by Holly Rayner
The room fell silent.
Colt nodded. “I know,” he said. “I owe you an explanation.”
All eyes in the room turned to her and Colt.
Colt looked around at their audience. “Guys, can I have a moment alone with Marissa, please?”
The young security guard scoffed. “Right now?” he asked.
“Enough, newbie,” Charlie said while capping the marker in his hand. “Show a little respect. Boys, let’s give these two some privacy. Colt, we’ll be nearby. You just give a shout when you’re ready to proceed.” He gave a courteous nod to Colt and then led his team out of the room.
Once they were alone, Colt turned to face Marissa on the couch.
Several inches of cushion stood between them. Marissa wanted to close that gap, but she was too scared and confused to do so.
Colt tented his brows. “I’m so sorry,” he said.
She shook her head. “You said that before, but I don’t understand what you mean. You’re sorry for what? What’s going on, Colt? Who are you?”
“I’m the same man you got to know last night,” he said. “That’s the real me. But there’s more to me than just that.”
“I get that,” she said. She tried to calm her quaking body, but it was impossible. He reached a hand out and placed it gently on her shoulder.
She reacted by pulling away.
“You’re scared,” he said. “I can see that.”
“I’ve never experienced anything like this before,” she said. “Maybe this is normal for you, but it’s not for me. Yes, I’m scared… and I don’t know if I can trust you right now.”
“Of course you feel that way,” he said, his eyes glistening with sincerity. “You have every right to feel that way. Let me try to explain.”
“Please,” she begged. She wanted more than anything to feel his arms around her again.
“My name is Colt Thorpe,” he said. “I’m in the oil industry. My company, Thorpe Oil Enterprises, was hacked back in October of last year. Funds were stolen. When I went after the thieves, I ended up targeting an organized crime ring here in Austin. Things got ugly.”
“Ugly… how?” Marissa asked.
Colt inhaled deeply and then let the breath out. He reached up and ran his fingers through his blond hair again. “My testimony in the courthouse put the crime ring’s leader behind bars,” he said, after a long pause. “Which didn’t make the leader’s son happy. He’s been targeting me ever since.”
“You’re talking about this Vance,” Marissa said. “Your security team has mentioned him several times.”
Colt nodded. “I’ve been dealing with Vance and his mafia cohorts for months. My life is constantly under threat. It’s become… almost normal for me. I don’t know if that makes any sense to you.”
Marissa searched Colt’s eyes. “You’ve gotten used to having a target on your back?” she asked. She could see past Colt’s stoic front. Though he wanted her to believe—and perhaps wanted to believe it himself—that having his life threatened was just everyday living, it couldn’t possibly be true. Empathy for the man before her welled up from within. She inched forward, closing the gap between them, and put a hand on his knee. “That can’t be easy, Colt,” she whispered.
He didn’t nod, nor did he shake his head. He simply peered back into the depths of her eyes, and then placed a hand over hers. He rubbed her hand, and his fingers landed on the bandage now covering her wound. “I can manage it,” he said. “But I can’t stand the thought that you’re hurt because of me.”
She sniffed. Her tears were drying as her doubts about Colt’s integrity dissipated. He’s a good man, she thought. How could I have ever doubted that?
“It’s just a small cut,” she said, thinking that his words referred to the bandage. “It will heal.”
He pursed his lips. “Marissa, your hand might heal quickly, but what you just saw is going to stick with you. I’m so sorry that I put you through that. It won’t happen again.” There was pain in his blue eyes.
He was doing such a good job providing her with the comfort she so desperately needed. She wanted to do the same for him. She wanted to soothe his pain. “It’s okay,” she said, turning her hand so that her palm touched his.
She leaned forward until her forehead was touching Colt’s. “It’s okay,” she repeated in a whisper. She wanted her words to be true.
He reached up with his free hand and stroked the salty, dried tear-streaks that ran down her cheeks. When she kissed him, longing filled her. She wanted to go back to the night before, on the park bench—a time before she knew about the threats on Colt’s life.
His lips were warm, and the kiss was urgent but quick. He pulled away and cupped her face in his hand as he whispered, “It’s not, Marissa. It’s not okay. I can live with the threats, but I can’t put your life in danger, too.”
“Then what happens now?” she asked. She held her breath, waiting for his answer.
Chapter 6
Colt
Colt felt the smoothness of Marissa’s cheek, cupped in the palm of his hand. “What happens now?” she asked, peering into his eyes and searching for an answer.
Colt found it difficult to speak.
He knew what he had to say: You have to leave. We can’t be together right now. When you’re around me, your life is in danger.
But he couldn’t say it.
He’d been waiting his whole life to meet a woman like Marissa.
Almost drowning, back in college, had changed him in ways he barely understood.
His priorities had shifted during the long hours out in the water.
After his brush with death, he started searching—
Searching for what he knew was important.
Now, finally, when he looked at Marissa, he felt a tickle, a voice in the back of his mind: after all these years of searching, you’ve finally found it—that feeling that makes life worthwhile.
Throughout all those years of working to build up the empire that his parents had left to him, he’d kept one hope alive—the hope of finding love and deep connection. Throughout the long hours, the tedious meetings, the relentless traveling of the globe, he had held onto that hope.
And now, it seemed to be coming true. He felt his connection to Marissa growing stronger with each moment he spent with her. There could be so much between us, he realized. Our connection isn’t superficial. There’s potential here—potential for something real.
Real was what he wanted. He hated the small talk that he had to endure on the few first dates he’d been on over the past decade, but he found that most women he was set up with didn’t want to go deep. They didn’t want to be real. It was clear to him that Marissa did. More than that, she didn’t seem to know any other way to be, except her authentic self. This was something he sensed about her in the moments of silence that passed between them, the way she looked into his eyes, and even the tone she used when she spoke. She ran deep, and Colt liked that about her.
“I want to tell you that we can continue… this,” he said, slowly, careful with every word that escaped his lips. “I want so badly to say that the explosion was a one-time event that we can put behind us. But it’s clear to me now that Vance’s threats are not empty. He’s going to try again. He wants to kill me.”
She took a jagged breath. Her brown eyes glistened with a fresh round of tears that she was clearly trying to hold back.
“What is… this?” she asked. “What is happening between us? Last night I wondered if this was just a one-night stand, but it’s not, is it?”
Colt shook his head. “You said you’re not the type of woman to have one-night stands, and I’m not the type of man to, either. Never have been.”
She wiped away a tear that threatened to escape a lower lid. “I’m sorry for being such a mess,” she said. “This is all happening so fast. I’m trying to understand.”
He let her breathe for a moment, and then he said, “I think we have something, Marissa. I want
to keep getting to know you.”
“I want that, too,” she said.
A look of hope flitted across her pretty features, which made it almost impossible for Colt to continue. He forced himself. “But right now, the timing is all wrong. I have to deal with this situation with Vance. I’m not sure how, but I know that it has to be done. And until Vance is out of the picture, it’s a bad idea for us to be together. Anyone in my vicinity is susceptible to his attacks.”
She looked down at the floor and bit her lip. “You’re right,” she said quietly. “I know you’re right. I should go, shouldn’t I? Let you get to planning with your security team.”
She inched away, and he reached for her hand. He lifted it up to his lips and kissed it gently. She continued to look at the floor. He released her hand and let her stand. It was best if she did leave—though it nearly killed him to admit that.
He stood as well and walked her to the door that led from the sitting room. He ushered her through the doorway and then led her down a long hallway. Colt poked his head into an expansive office, where he suspected the security officers would have congregated. He was right.
“Charlie,” Colt said, motioning to the head guard. “Could you arrange for a ride for Marissa to get her safely back to her hotel?”
Charlie nodded and took out his phone to place a call.
Marissa spoke while Charlie dialed his phone. “I won’t have to wear one of those vests again, will I?” she asked.
Charlie looked up from his task. “Only until we get you from the building to the car,” he said. “Once you’re away from Colt, you’re no longer under threat, and you’ll be fine to remove the vest. Where are you staying?”
“Skylark Suites,” Marissa responded.
Charlie placed the call and then led the way to the lobby of the luxurious penthouse. Colt hung back and watched Marissa being outfitted with the vest.
This is all because of me, he thought.
The steel-gray vest was bulky and covered up Marissa’s feminine curves. Her stylish black tank top disappeared beneath the boxy vest, and it partly covered up the cute sparkles on the butt of her jeans. She pulled her brown hair out from beneath the vest’s collar, and it fell in soft waves over her shoulders. When she turned to take one last look at him, Colt drank in the image of her angelic face. I might not see her for a while, he realized. I’d better remember this moment.
His chest rose and fell rapidly. He wanted to reach for her, take off the vest, and implore her to stay the night with him again. But he resisted.
Charlie, at Marissa’s side, spoke a few sharp commands into his radio. Then he turned to Marissa and said, “Okay, ma’am, everyone’s in place. Just a quick walk out to the car, and then you can put all of this behind you. Are you ready?”
She nodded at Charlie and then turned to Colt. She raised a hand.
He mirrored her gesture. Neither spoke. Colt knew that they’d each already voiced everything that had to be said. It didn’t feel right to say anything else to her, with so many people around.
She seemed to feel the same. She held his gaze for a few seconds and then looked to Charlie, who led her to the door.
Colt watched the door close behind her. When will I see her again? he wondered, as he stared at the door.
One of the guards caught his attention and broke his train of thought.
“Mr. Thorpe, Bradley is on his way over, along with the FBI. I can prepare a space for us to gather. Would you like to meet in the lounge or the office?”
“The lounge will be fine, thanks,” Colt said.
He turned away from the door. He wanted to plan a way to see Marissa again, but now was not the time; there were more pressing matters at hand.
“I’ll make some coffee,” one of the guards said.
“I’ll get the whiteboard,” said another.
Within twenty minutes, Colt was seated back on the couch that he’d just occupied with Marissa—only now, his business partner, Bradley, was beside him, rather than the woman of his dreams. Charlie and the other security officers were also in the room, along with half a dozen FBI agents.
Bradley took the floor first. “How has this gotten so out of hand?” he demanded. “I don’t see what the problem is. We have to take this Vance guy down. He just tried to murder Colt.” He looked at Colt. “I hear there was a woman involved, too? Who?”
“Her name is Marissa,” Colt said.
“You’ve been seeing someone?” Bradley asked.
Colt eyed his friend and business partner. When Colt had inherited Thorpe Oil Enterprises as a senior in college, right after his parents died, he’d asked Bradley to be his business partner almost immediately. Bradley had been on his college football team, and Colt knew that if the two of them could survive pre-season workouts together, they could survive just about anything.
Colt knew that he’d only succeed if he had a strong team in place to help him keep the company running smoothly. The two had not only kept the company running, but had also grown it to almost double the size that it had been when his parents had owned it. Together, he and Bradley had opened up several new wells and had doubled production as well as profits.
When Colt didn’t answer immediately, Bradley went on. “Why didn’t you say something, my man? You know Shirley and I would love to meet her.”
“Only met her last night,” Colt said shortly. He didn’t want to dwell on Marissa at the moment. It only made him feel worse than he already felt.
She was so scared, he thought.
That was my fault.
I need to be more careful.
I have to make sure she’s never put in danger again.
To change the subject away from Marissa, he said, “Brad, Charlie and his team are doing everything they can.”
Charlie nodded. “We’ve had to walk a very thin line—between ensuring Mr. Thorpe stays safe, and at the same time helping the FBI get enough evidence to put Vance behind bars with his father. We all know this city would be better off without him, and in particular, Colt here will be better off without him hanging around.”
Colt scoffed. “You can say that again.”
If Vance wasn’t in the picture, Marissa and I would be out at lunch together right now, he thought. Or enjoying a walk through a park. Or sitting on a bench somewhere quiet and serene.
His mind turned to the way it felt to bring her to his favorite park bench the night before. It was so wonderful to sit there with her, hold her in his arms, and feel her soft, supple lips as they kissed.
Bradley spoke again. “Well, today gave you enough evidence, right? I mean, the man blew up Colt’s car out in public, in broad daylight, with dozens of witnesses.”
An FBI agent spoke up. “Unfortunately, we caught the guy who placed the bomb.”
All heads turned to the FBI agent.
“Why is that unfortunate?” Colt asked.
“Because—it wasn’t Vance. The guy is a known criminal, without a history of mafia involvement.”
“But Vance has to be behind the attack,” Colt said, shaking his head in disbelief. “He’s been after me for months. I know this was his doing.”
“We all do,” the FBI agent said. “But all the same, it’s going to be hard to prove to a jury. In a court of law, the explosion is going to look like a random attack. Vance is being careful. He’s smart.”
Charlie nodded. “So, we have to be twice as smart,” he said. He stood and walked up to the whiteboard. “Which brings us to our plan for moving forward.” He turned to the board and started writing. The marker made a squeaking sound as it traveled across the white surface.
At first, Colt couldn’t see the writing. Charlie’s body blocked it. But when Charlie stepped aside, Colt saw clearly two words: Faked Death.
Charlie underlined the phrase three times.
“Oh, no,” Colt said. “That’s too much. Too complicated. I told you when I hired you, Charlie, that I need this mafia business to impact my life as little as poss
ible. The more Vance manipulates me, the more he’s winning, and I don’t like how that sits with me. I’m going to continue to live my life, and—”
“Buddy,” Bradley said, reaching out to slap Colt on the knee. “You’re not going to be living your life much longer with this Vance and his cronies around. You heard these guys—Vance is smart.”
“But we’re smarter,” Colt said.
“That’s right,” Charlie said. “We’re going to outsmart this guy by taking the proper precautions.”
“I’m not going to run away from this,” Colt said. “I refuse.”
“Think about it,” Bradley said. “Think about your girl, man. She could have been really hurt today.”
Bradley’s words felt like a punch to the gut. On the one hand, it felt good to think Marissa was “his girl.” He hadn’t had a relationship in so long. The idea that Marissa could be his girlfriend, one day soon perhaps, felt nice. On the other hand, his strongest reaction was pain.
Pain at the realization that “his girl” could be in danger.
Colt pinched his mouth shut and fell silent.
“It will only be temporary,” Charlie said.
“How long?” Colt asked quietly.
The FBI agent who had spoken earlier now spoke again. “Just until we can get some concrete evidence against Vance. We’re close. It’s only a matter of time before one of his pawns rats him out. We need to prove that Vance is connected to today’s attack on your life. Until then, you’ll be safer if he thinks you’re dead.”
Colt remained silent.
He didn’t like the thought of running.
He stared at the floor and felt Bradley’s hand rest on his shoulder. “We all want you to be safe, man,” Bradley said. “Come on. This faked death thing will get you out of harm’s way. You heard them—it’s only temporary. Think of it as a vacation.”
It’s only temporary. Colt let those words sink in.
If he faked his own death, Vance would let his guard down. With any luck, that would mean the FBI could finally get the evidence they needed in order to get him off of the city streets.