Eden: A steamy contemporary military romance (Project Arma Book 2)

by Nyssa Kathryn

  Pulling into Eden's driveway, Shylah jumped out of the car. At the sight of movement in the living room window, Shylah breathed a sigh of relief.

  Eden was home.

  Running inside, Shylah shut the door before stepping into the living room.

  Lifting her head, Shylah stopped in her tracks, bag slipping from her stiff fingers and hitting the ground.

  A slow smile crept across Trent's face as he stood next to the living room table. It wasn't the kind smile she was used to seeing. This one resembled a vindictive sneer.

  "As soon as I heard the nurses tell you about my pickup truck, I knew this was the first place you'd run."

  Shylah's stomach lurched with fear at Trent's words.

  "Heard?" she questioned quietly as her eyes searched the room for her phone.

  "Looking for this?" Trent asked, holding up her cell. "Swiping this from your bag was the first thing I did before I headed here. And yes, I spend a lot of my day following you, Shylah. Listening to the things you say, watching what you do. You fool everyone into thinking you're an angel, don't you? Hell, if you hadn't killed my brother, you might actually fool me."

  Confusion mixed with fear settled like a stone in Shylah's stomach. "Killed your brother?"

  Shylah had never killed another person in her life. The very idea made her sick to her stomach.

  Opening a black bag on the table, Trent began pulling items out. "You don't have to act innocent with me. When they first came to me and told me what you did to Peter, I was full of rage. I wanted to go to you and kill you right there and then. But then they told me what my brother was trying to accomplish. What he'd already achieved. I realized I could finish his life's work and get my revenge at the same time."

  Peter? The name sounded familiar to Shylah, but she couldn't quite place it.

  "We had different fathers, hence the different last names. Other than being doctors, I always thought we were so different. Turns out, not that different at all." Shylah swallowed at the sight of Trent pulling out a syringe from his bag.

  As his eyes lifted to meet Shylah's, she suddenly saw it. The slightest resemblance. It was the eyes.

  Terror stabbed at her heart. How had she not seen it before?

  Because she hadn't been looking.

  "Doctor Hoskin from Project Arma is your brother."

  All traces of a smile left Trent's face to be replaced by anger. "Was. He still would be if you hadn't shot him in the head."

  Reeling back, Shylah frowned. Trent thought she shot Doctor Hoskin in the head?

  Shaking her head vigorously, she felt a desperate need to make him understand the truth.

  "Trent, it wasn't me who shot your brother. It was Commander Hylar."

  A hateful laugh escaped Trent's lips. "You're not going to blame him, are you? Why would I believe that Commander Hylar killed my brother? They were on the same team, Shylah."

  "I swear, he shot your brother right in front of me when he found out—"

  "STOP LYING TO ME." Shylah jumped at the sudden venom in his voice. Pulling out the last bottle, Trent dropped the bag to the ground. Lifting his gaze toward her, he seemed to calm. "They told me where you were right away, you know. Which hospital, right down to the room number. You were never hidden from us."

  Shylah struggled to get deep enough breaths in. "Why . . . Why didn't you come for me then?"

  Picking up the syringe, Trent studied it in his fingers. "I got people to watch you. I was waiting for you to go to him, or him to come to you. It didn't seem to be happening. Right when I was ready to give up and just kill you, the feds came up with that stupid plan to plant you in the Georgetown hospital." Shrugging, Trent looked up. "So, we used it to our advantage. Took you, revealed Eden's location, knowing you were listening. And I started working here to set it all in motion."

  "You were behind the kidnapping, and . . . and you told me that he was in Marble Falls on purpose?"

  Trent smiled again. "Of course. Then off you went like a good girl, researched Marble Falls, you applied for a job, and here we are. I knew I wanted to kill you, but it took me a while to figure out how exactly. I wanted the drug my brother spent his life working on to be part of it so that his death wouldn't be in vain. I also wanted Eden to suffer, seeing as my brother is dead to save him."

  Trent's face scrunched like it disgusted him. "Such an unworthy substitution." Trent looked out the window. Someone watching might think he was having a casual chat with a friend. "It just took me a while to come up with a plan. At first, I thought Ben was the answer. You may have noticed I tried to break into your apartment to get your scent, but you'd changed the damn locks."

  Shylah's eyes widened. "That was you?"

  Eyes shooting back to Shylah, full of disdain, he replied, "Ben was supposed to kill you just after you'd reunited with your precious SEAL. Imagine Eden's fucking heart break. Then he came and saved you though, didn't he? I could have shot you both on the spot. But that's when an even better plan hit me. You killed my brother to save Eden. Now I want Eden to kill you while he's on the very drug my brother created. How fucking poetic is that?"

  The excitement in Trent's eyes and voice sent chills down Shylah's spine. He was nuts.

  "You're crazy," Shylah whispered, unable to keep her thoughts to herself any longer.

  "I prefer the term brilliant. Now, I need you to come over here and take a seat so I can take you through what's going to happen." Shylah's gaze darted to the door, then back at Trent. Reaching behind him, Trent pulled out a gun and aimed it directly at her chest. "Let's do this the easy way, Shylah. The hard way ends with you dying right now, and that's no fun for anyone."

  Swallowing, Shylah dragged her feet as she moved across the room. Taking a seat across from him, she looked down at the bottles and syringe he'd placed in front of her.

  "This is what's going to happen, Shylah. You're going to make Eden dinner and pour some of this into his wine." Trent held up a bottle with a yellow liquid in it. "He'll get a bit lethargic, but only enough that he's not at the top of his game. There's no scent, so he won't detect it."

  Lowering the jar, Trent then lifted the other one, this time filled with a clear liquid.

  "Then, later in the night, when you go to hug the asshole, you need to inject this into his bloodstream, just like you did Ben."

  My god, if she injected Eden with that, he'd be unstoppable. Shylah fought the rising panic.

  "And if I refuse?" Shylah asked, even though she dreaded the answer.

  Trent's malicious smirk returned. "I shoot him right between the eyes, right in front of you. Your man may be powerful, but he's not bulletproof. See that camera up there?"

  Shylah's gaze lifted to where he pointed in the corner of the room. A tiny camera that was barely visible sat there. You would only see it if someone pointed it out like Trent had.

  "I'll be watching everything, and there'll be men that work for me surrounding the house, ready to move at my direction. They'll be far enough away that Eden won't hear them, but close enough to get in before either of you can get out."

  Shaking her head, Shylah struggled to comprehend what Trent was asking her to do.

  "The man you love, the man you killed my brother to protect, will kill you with the drug you stopped my brother from finishing," Trent spoke the words slowly but firmly.

  Shylah had to work hard to stop herself from hyperventilating.

  "There's always the chance that he won't kill me." A slim chance, but still a chance.

  "Yes!" Trent said, his excitement confusing Shylah. "There is that chance. Which is what makes this the greatest experiment of them all. Is the drug strong enough to overpower love?"

  Walking toward the door, bag in hand, Trent turned just before leaving. "Cook a roast, it goes well with wine. I've left a bottle on the kitchen island for you. You've got until eight. If you haven't injected him by then, he'll be dead by eight-o-one."

  28

  The moment Eden stepped inside his hom
e, he knew something wasn't right. Beneath the scent of Shylah and food and wine was a new scent. New to his home, not new to Eden.

  Eyes narrowing, he spotted Shylah by the stove. She hadn't turned toward him yet, even though she would have heard him come in. That alone was a reason for Eden to be suspicious.

  Closing the door slowly, Eden took his time making his way over to Shylah, eyes inspecting her from behind.

  The first thing he noticed was how ramrod straight her spine was. The next was how still she stood. Unnaturally so.

  Placing a hand on her shoulder, Shylah flinched. It was subtle, so much so that you couldn't see it, only feel it.

  Eden's worry peaked when he saw her face. Shylah's eyes were wide and her face too pale. There were shadows under her eyes that made her appear unwell.

  Shylah smiled, but it was all wrong. Panic flared in the depths of her eyes.

  "Hi, Eden, dinner's almost ready if you want to get changed." Her voice was formal, stunted like she was reading from a script. When Eden didn't make to move away, Shylah's heart pounded. Raising her left hand to Eden's chest, he noticed how badly it shook. "Please, Eden. Can you get ready for dinner?"

  There was an air of desperation in her words. Placing his hand on hers, Eden noticed her fingers were ice cold.

  What the hell was going on?

  Studying her face, he tried to read her but saw nothing but panic.

  Someone had been here, in his home, and now Shylah was scared out of her mind but couldn't tell him why. The longer Eden stood there, the more the panic in her eyes intensified.

  Bending his head, Eden placed a kiss on her cheek. "I'll go get ready for dinner. I love you."

  Shylah's brows pulled together slightly. "I-I love you too."

  Were those tears Shylah had just blinked away?

  Moving away from her, Eden headed in the direction of the bedroom, gaze darting around, searching for anything out of place.

  When he found nothing, he went upstairs and closed his bedroom door. Pulling out his phone, Eden shot a quick text to Mason.

  Someone's been in my house. Shylah's scared shitless but can't speak. I want you and the team to get ready for a raid. If you don't hear from me at 2000 hours, come prepared.

  Mason's response was instant.

  I can get the guys to come now.

  As much as Eden wanted to agree to that, he needed to figure out what the hell was going on first. He didn't want to put Shylah in any danger. She was his priority.

  No. I need to get more information.

  Mason's reply was short.

  Done.

  His friend knew he would do what he could to get any information about what he'd just walked into while simultaneously ensuring Shylah and his safety.

  After changing into jeans and a shirt, Eden re-entered the kitchen. Shylah was cutting a roast, but her left hand trembled so badly the knife kept slipping from her fingers. She was damn close to slicing off her finger.

  Sidling up next to her, Eden gently put his hand on top of hers. "I'll cut the meat, Shy."

  Pausing for a moment, Shylah slid her hand off the knife and went to take the potatoes out of the oven.

  "Sorry I wasn't home when you got back. I was training with Cage. I thought you were working until later." Eyes lifting to Shylah, he studied her for her reaction.

  Shylah swallowed before she replied, "They, um, weren't terribly busy at the hospital. Sent me home early." Looking up for a moment, Shylah gave Eden a tight smile before going back to the potatoes.

  Eden didn't need to pay much attention to know that that was a lie. Something else had made Shylah come home early. Had someone forced her to leave and brought her back here? Her car sat out front. Was she followed?

  Eden wanted to kick his own ass for not being home this afternoon. Maybe whatever was going on could have been avoided.

  As Shylah started moving food to the table, Eden watched her from his peripheral vision. It wasn't until she moved the pre-poured wine glasses to the table that he noticed the hitch in her breath.

  Transferring the meat to the table, Eden eyed the wine for a moment before glancing away.

  He had to be smart about how he handled the situation. There was a reason she was hiding whatever it was from him, and he was betting that it was because one or both of their lives had been threatened.

  Sitting down at the table, he watched Shylah's stilted movements as she took the final bowl of food to the table. Her gaze flickered to the top corner of the room one too many times.

  Rising from his chair, Eden grabbed the table salt. On his way back, his eyes looked up momentarily, then quickly away.

  Motherfuckers. There was a goddamn camera in his house. Someone was watching them, and Eden sure as hell would find out who.

  Taking his seat opposite Shylah, Eden analyzed every move she made. "The wine looks good," Eden said, taking in the way her body froze for a moment before her eyes met his.

  Pure, raw panic shined through. As her breaths came out quicker, Eden reached under the table to give her knee a comforting squeeze.

  Eyes shooting up, she met his gaze. Confusion swirled with fear.

  That's it, sweetheart, I'm here with you. I know something's going on. You're okay.

  Eden wished he could say those words out loud to Shylah, but he hoped that his touch reassured her to some extent.

  Opening her mouth, it took Shylah a moment to form words. "I just thought seeing as we're in such a good place in our relationship now, we should celebrate."

  Lifting the glass of wine to his lips, Shylah's sharp intake of breath was the last confirmation Eden needed. They laced the wine with something.

  Tipping the glass back, he made sure that it would appear to whoever was watching the camera that he drank when the liquid didn't so much as touch his lips.

  Placing the untouched wine back on the table, Eden glanced up at Shylah.

  "Cage and I were talking about Project Arma. We still have no leads on the drug that they injected Ben with. We don't know the ingredients or where they originated."

  Attempting to push the conversation in the direction of the drug, Eden hoped that by saying things she knew weren't true, Shylah could work out a way to tell him something without saying the words.

  Shylah's eyes darted up to meet his for a moment before returning to her food.

  Pushing her food around her plate, Shylah wet her lips then looked up at him. "It's okay, Eden. I heard you talking to Mason about how the ingredients of the drug originate from the Congo. I also heard you say that you suspect it involves someone with a medical background in Marble Falls. You don't need to hide it."

  Pausing for a moment, Eden considered her words. He told Shylah about the origins of the drug, but they had never made suggestions of who was responsible. She was trying to tell him it was someone with a medical background. The only person at the hospital who had attempted to get close to her was . . .

  "Doctor O'Neil is the one who approved me to go home early. Encouraged me to have a nice dinner with you." Another tight smile flashed across her face.

  Her eyes darted to the wall clock and back. So, Trent had told her to lace the wine and given her a time limit to achieve something.

  "Well, I'm glad you're here now. We're stronger together than apart. And I'm glad you overheard my conversation with Eagle about Project Arma. It's important we're both open about everything that's going on."

  A tiny flicker of relief flashed through Shylah's eyes. She knew he understood something was happening. Then her eyes flickered back to the clock, and the worry returned.

  Silent minutes ticked by in which Eden watched what little remnant of calm Shylah had when he arrived home slowly deteriorate. Eden's own eyes flickered to the clock.

  Almost eight.

  His team would be here soon. That was on the proviso they didn't meet with any trouble on their way.

  Standing, Eden took Shylah's hand and led her to the couch. Sitting down, he placed her on
his lap.

  "It's okay," Eden whispered the words into Shylah's ear. "Whatever happens, we'll be okay."

  Shylah's eyes were tortured, her hands clammy on his chest. "I love you, Eden. And I'm glad I found you again. You have no idea how happy you've made me."

  Fuck. Shylah was talking like she was saying goodbye.

  "Not seeing you every day for fourteen months was the hardest thing I've ever had to do in my life." Her eyes flickered over his face. "Most days, I struggled to breathe, knowing I wouldn't see you that day. My goal, through all the pain, surgeries, and rehab, was to get healthy so I could be with you again."

  "And you are, Shy. We're together, and that's the way we will stay." His voice was firm.

  A tear rolled down Shylah's cheek. "Everything I did, I did to save you. There's nothing in this world that I wouldn't do to save you, Eden. Even if it meant . . ." Shylah took a few quick breaths while Eden stroked her cheek to calm her. "Even if it meant that harm would come to me."

  "No fucking harm is coming to you, Shy." There was no way Eden would let that happen.

  Not breaking eye contact, Shylah's body was now trembling so violently that Eden firmed his arms around her.

  Damn, eight o'clock couldn't come quickly enough.

  Starting to regret not telling Mason to come immediately, Eden no longer cared about information. He needed backup, and he needed it now.

  Laying her head on his shoulder, Shylah wrapped her arms around him.

  "I'm sorry." The two words were faint. Barely a whisper.

  Distracted by Shylah's words, Eden felt the prick of the needle in his arm too late. Reaching over, he grabbed the syringe from her fingers, but it was empty.

  Eyes going back to Shylah, Eden frowned, his blood running cold. "What did you do?" But Eden knew what Shylah had done. She'd injected him with Toved.

  Immediately, his mind clouded.

  Pushing Shylah away from his body, confusion swirled through him. All the small sounds of the night that were normally so clear, were suddenly distant.

  Clenching the sofa beneath him, the material tore under his grip. A piercing rage built in his gut, and his heart sped to a thundering speed.