by S. M. Butler
Jean Giroux, though. He wanted nothing more than to make that man suffer and die. Because of him, Addison was living a life without her brother. Because of him, Chris had two holes in his chest that would never fully close. Because of him, Chris was stuck in service to a mentally wounded billionaire that could probably kill him with his pinky.
“That is why I had Abigail Lewis brought here.”
“How so? She’s a spoiled little princess,” Jordan said. “A gorgeous one, but still, spoiled.”
Spoiled was never how he’d seen Abigail. Rich and sheltered, maybe. But a new version of her was seeping out now that he’d seen her again. One where she was brave despite the fear in her eyes.
“Something caused her to run from her father. She had access to Daniel Lewis, and we think she may have taken something he wants back. I believe he will want her back alive. He’s employed a private security firm to find her.”
“He hired mercenaries?” Chris couldn’t keep the surprise out of his voice.
“Yes.”
Jesus. Mercenaries. High-end mercenaries called themselves private security firms and they catered to the whims of powerful political figures and had access to government contracts.
“We tag her. Send her home.” Scott said as he rubbed his scruffy chin. “She’ll lead us right to what we want.”
“Or her father kills her before she can,” Chris growled. “Besides, she won’t go back willingly. She thinks he means to kill her.”
“She doesn’t need to be willing,” Jack growled. “Or conscious.”
“Touch her, and I will remove your fingers by skinning them off her one at a time.”
Jack laughed. “You can try.”
“That’s enough!” Nathan scolded. The two men glared each other down but said nothing more. “Get close to her, Mr. Hardy. Bring her into the fold and get what we need from her.”
“She’s not a spy, Nathan. She’s just someone running for her life,” Chris protested.
“Yes, and you were just a man dying in a hospital bed once. Look how you turned out.” Nathan’s lip turned upward into a smirk. “Bring her in.”
“She’s not going to trust me just because I tell her she can,” Chris said. “She’s a smart girl.”
“I don’t care how you make that girl trust you. Coercion. Seduction. It doesn’t matter. Get it done. We will need whatever it is she has on her father.”
His watch beeped. Nathan glanced down and frowned. “I have to go.”
As Nathan yet again disappeared, Chris growled, mostly to himself. He didn’t want to do anything with Abigail Lewis. Seduction? If he even got close to her, it wouldn’t be him doing the seduction. She did something to him, woke something primal inside him he’d never felt before. When he’d looked at her in the infirmary, he’d seen it then… the desire, the want. He couldn’t control it. If he got anywhere near her, he had no idea how he was going to control himself. But the real problem was if he was honest with himself, he didn’t want to.
Chapter Ten
Abigail tried the door for the millionth time. Locked. Still. Door knobs were useless. Everything was accessed through these handprint panels. It was like she was stuck in a spaceship or something.
She grunted and sat back down on the bed. It felt like she was back under her father’s thumb again, security surrounding her, everything carefully chosen before given to her. Her college roommate had been hand-selected, her friends screened before she was allowed play dates. God, and heaven forbid she ever laid eyes on a potential boyfriend.
She glanced up as there was a brief hum and the door clicked open. Chris always seemed to take her breath away when he entered a room. His jaw was set, his ocean-gray eyes had almost a blue tint to them as they met hers.
“How are you feeling?” He asked as if he hadn’t just run out on her before.
“Good. A little sore, but better.”
“That’s good,” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets. The black t-shirt he wore wrinkled with the movement, pulling taut in other areas. Particularly over his shoulders. “I guess we should talk.” He shut the door behind him, and her heart sunk. Trapped again.
He sat down on the bed next to her and sighed. He seemed to be having trouble with whatever he had to say. His ocean-gray eyes searched her face for something as she fought the urge to put her hands all over his chest. This close, his warmth, his strength emanated from him, striking her close to certain areas of her anatomy she shouldn’t listen to, but wanted to as badly as she needed to breathe.
“Five years ago, you were a member of a SEAL team,” she said, deciding to break the silence. She’d let him control the narrative for a while now, but now she needed more information. “You saved my life then. It makes me want to trust you, but I can’t.”
“I’m not part of that life anymore,” he said. “Two years ago, I was shot. Nearly died. Probably would have. Maybe I should have. But a man came to talk to me, said he wanted me on his team.” He paused. “His name was Nathan Hawk.”
“The British billionaire?” She asked. From what she recalled, Nathan Hawk had become a recluse after his family was publicly murdered in a mass execution by terrorists that ended up blowing themselves up. She remembered him with something a little more personal.
“He’s much more than that. I thought he was the enemy at first, trying to bribe me with the idea of being whole again.”
“Whole?”
“During a mission, I was shot twice center mass by a man named Jean Giroux.” Abigail froze. No. Not Jean Giroux. Anyone but that name. She remembered to breathe as he continued. “I shouldn’t have survived at all. I sustained a lot of damage because of blood loss and I’m not sure what else. Not sure of the specifics. I just remember the grim looks on the medical staff. They didn’t expect me to live.”
“But you did.” She loved that he did, that Giroux hadn’t cost him his life. She couldn’t even imagine life without Chris Hardy saving people in it.
“Yes. I accepted the deal Nathan made me with a slight alteration to the terms. He wanted me to die and be reborn into a new life. This life.” He paused, his throat working up and down like he’d never voiced the events he spoke of. “I promised him I’d never contact anyone from my old life, but I refused to let them experience my death.”
“So that’s why you’re here.”
“Yes.”
She frowned, trying to make sense of what he’d said. “Um, that doesn’t make any sense. I’m—” she stopped and whipped her eyes up to his, realizing what he said. “You got in trouble because of me?”
“I put my team in danger because you’re an unknown.”
“Why tell me this?”
“You need to understand what I am now. What I have to be.” He lifted his hand and gently touched her chin, lifting up slightly so her eyes met his. Her heart skipped several beats, causing her breath to leave her. “Why I want to throw it all away to help you now.”
She couldn’t look away as his stormy eyes bored into her, touching her deep inside. Her stomach curled in on itself with want and desire. “I’m not asking for your help, Chris.”
“No,” he agreed. “I’m asking for yours.”
He inched closer, and his hand slid down to her thigh, resting easily as if it should have been there long before then. Her heart crashed against her rib cage, over and over. His warmth seared her bare leg.
“I don’t understand.”
“You’re running from something. We can protect you. But…”
“You want something,” she said, pulling back, more for air than anything else. But instead of air, he closed the distance, his hand on her thigh moving to the bed so he leaned over her body.
“God, I can’t do this,” he said, his nose nuzzling her neck. “You smell amazing.”
“Chris…” she whispered. “Please.” She wasn’t sure what she was asking for. Did she want him to stop? Or keep going? She was pretty sure he was playing on her desires, but at that moment, wi
th him so close, she didn’t care.
She’d spent months in relative isolation, away from the entire world. Being with Chris at that moment, even as fake as it might be, she wanted to revel in how it made her feel. How alive she was at that moment.
Chris’s breath fanned her face, making small loose hairs fly around her face. “Tell me about your father, why he’s hired mercenaries to find you.”
Abigail put her hands on his chest and pushed, sitting herself up before she fell into the mattress, or worse. Tangled herself with a very hot, very alive former SEAL. Her breath shuddered as she released it. “I know things. Things that are damaging to him.”
“What things?”
She shook her head. “No, no. They’re my secrets to keep. They keep me alive.”
He brushed her bangs behind her ears, lightly letting his thumbs touch her fevered skin as they traveled from the bottom of her ears down her neck. His eyes were heated when he met hers again, full of passion and want. He could lie about a lot, but there was no mistaking that look in his eyes.
“I’m going to need you to stop me, Abigail.”
“What?”
“I can’t help myself, and I don’t want to.” His lips touched hers a moment later. Electricity shot all through her body, warming her, fueling her. In her mind, she knew it was a bad idea, but she couldn’t stop. She didn’t want to stop herself from kissing him back. A small moan escaped her, vibrating through her mouth to his.
His hand slid to her waist, pulling her closer to him while the other rested on her thigh, squeezing her pale flesh, his touch burning deep into her soul.
She broke the kiss, desperately clawing for air. In all her life, when she’d wished for a kiss like that, she’d never thought it would be her savior. She’d never had anyone around her growing up she thought worthy of kissing, and after she was kidnapped and brutalized, she’d taken years before she could even think about anyone sexually.
Now here she was, wanting desperately to kiss him again. She lowered her gaze to his full lips, remembering the taste as she ran her tongue over her own lips.
“If you keep looking at me like that, I’m going to pin you to that bed.” Her eyes shot to his in surprise.
“Like what?”
“Like you’re hungry,” he replied.
“Maybe I am,” she said. “Life with my father… well, let’s say he was careful about everything.”
“He kept you in the dark.”
“You could say that,” she said. She sighed. “Turning on the lights was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”
“Is that why you’re here?”
“No,” she whispered. “I’m here because you brought me here.”
“I meant in Jubilee.”
She glanced up at him. “I think fate brought me here… to you.”
~*~*~
Her statement floored him, or it would have if he hadn’t been sitting down. This place, it was far too intimate, too small. They were too close. He blew out a breath. “Are you hungry?”
She blinked. “What?”
“It’s been a long day for both of us. Let’s go get some dinner, relax. We can talk then.”
“You’re going to let me leave here?”
“You’re not my prisoner,” he said, frowning. At least, he hoped she wasn’t. If Allen had his way, he’d have her locked up in one of the cells below them, awaiting interrogation.
“Will you tell me the truth?”
“Always,” he replied, the lie slipping easily from his lips. He wished he could be honest with her. Maybe in a different life, he and Abigail could have been friends.
Of course, he’d never wanted to kiss any of his friends like he wanted to kiss Abigail.
“Okay,” she said, standing up. “I’ll play. Let’s go eat.”
Minutes later, he led her into the local diner. He came in here frequently to eat. It was easier than cooking every night, and he never really had a lot of time to cook anyway.
The diner probably hadn’t been painted or redecorated since the fifties. A small jukebox sat on each table, which was made of some kind of cheap wood that was painted a faded white. The sides of the table were lined with silver metal. The booths had red vinyl covering and the walls were covered with old sketches of James Dean and Buddy Holly.
“This place is charming,” Abigail said as she sat down across from him. “Not sure what that smell is, though.”
“It’s sixty-year-old paint,” Chris replied.
“So you eat here a lot?” She asked as the guy behind the counter waved to them. Chris couldn’t quite remember the dude’s name.
“It’s a small town. Everyone knows everyone else.”
“Even you?”
He shrugged. The question itself made him want to squirm.
“Welcome to Pete’s Diner, darlings.” The waitress glanced at the two of them, smiling. “How about some coffee to start y’all off?”
“Sounds great, Yvonne,” he told the waitress. Yvonne stole a glance at Abigail and left, a big smile on her face. She scampered over to a table and engaged in a very animated discussion with the women sitting there, discreetly pointing toward him.
Great. The entire town would hear about Chris and his mystery redhead by morning.
“So, you know everyone too,” Abigail said, a gorgeous grin splitting her face.
“I’ve lived here for nearly two years. You get to know people.”
“That sounds awesome,” she said, the smile withering away. She looked away from him, her eyes focusing out the window. “I’d have loved that.”
He was losing her. He reached out and touched her hand, sliding his fingers over hers. Her baby blues slid back to him, looking first at where their fingers touched then followed it up to his face. “Where are you?”
Her lips turned upward slightly, but her heart wasn’t in it. Sadness coated her expression. “I was just thinking. I’d have loved to grow up in a town like this.”
“Really? No mansions or malls here.”
Her brow furrowed. “You think I’m interested in money?”
“No, it was…” He cursed. “It was supposed to be a joke.”
“A year ago, I’d have never thought this would be my life.” She shook her head, turning away as Yvonne brought the coffee. They ordered their food and Yvonne left again.
Chris waited for her to continue, but she didn’t say anything more. This wasn’t exactly going the way he’d wanted it to. He’d thought a more relaxed atmosphere would be good for her, somewhere away from the lair. Somewhere where regular people were.
“Aren’t you afraid?” she asked. “Someone could recognize me. Wouldn’t it blow your cover or whatever?”
He smiled. “The only thing they’re going to take away from this is me sitting across from a beautiful redhead with a thousand watt smile. Then I will get asked all sorts of uncomfortable ‘when’s the wedding’ questions for months.”
She didn’t smile though, and he’d so hoped she would. Something was nagging at her. Maybe it was the realization that her father was trying to kill her, or she was still processing the explosion.
Their food arrived and he never got to hear her response to what he’d said. They ate in silence. He wasn’t really hungry, but from the way she ate, she was. She held herself back, but she tore through her food in record time.
“You’re quiet,” she said, setting her napkin on the table.
“Just waiting for you,” he replied.
“You brought me here to talk?”
“I gave you my story,” he said.
She picked at her fingernails. She seemed smaller somehow, uncomfortable in this space. There was very real fear in her eyes and he hated to see it.
He sighed. “Listen, I’m gonna take care of you. I’ll protect you.”
She shook her head. “I didn’t think this through. I just wanted to get away from him. The senator is very well connected.”
He met her eyes, smiling as he leaned forward
. “So am I.”
Chapter Eleven
After dinner, they walked along the main road. The sun was setting, creating sprawls of color across the sky. There was something magical in the air, something soft and welcoming. For the first time since Abigail had left her home, her body relaxed, leaning into Chris as they walked back toward Hawk Automotive.
Kissing him in the infirmary was probably a mistake, but she hadn’t stopped thinking about it since. He nuzzled his cheek against the top of her head as they walked. Like they were just an ordinary couple. No doubt, this couldn’t last, whatever this was. But walking like this, in the sunset of a Texas summer day, she was content to lose herself in the moment.
“What’s going through that head of yours?” he murmured against her hair.
She glanced up at him, still leaning into him. “A lot.”
“I bet,” he said.
“Mostly, I’m worried. My—Daniel Lewis has long reaching arms and heavy pockets. There’s an entire town here that could report me to him.”
“People here… They look out for each other,” he said, pausing frequently as he chose his words. Abigail didn’t think Chris ever did anything without considering every variable. She didn’t think he even knew he did it. It was ingrained in him, as perfectly as being a warrior was ingrained in him. It was woven so deep into his soul, there was no other way he could choose to be. “I’ve lived here two years and I have yet to see the bleakness I saw out in the world. This town is in its own little bubble, and people here are content to stay within it.”
“And you?”
A faint smile crossed his lips as they reached the door to Hawk Automotive. “I’m content to protect that bubble.” He pulled open the door, his eyes casing around their surroundings as he pushed her gently through the door.
The darkness in the garage was broken only by tendrils of sunlight through the blinds covering the windows, which were coated with a layer of black dust and grime. It reminded her a little of Chris himself. Something that had purpose, but hadn’t been used to its full purpose, and left to gather dust. Chris’s entire being thrived on protecting others, on saving them from threats of which they couldn’t free themselves.