Her Own Best Enemy (The Remnants, Book 1) (20 page)

He touched her chin, nudging her head up with the gentle caress of his fingers. “It wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t my fault. Colby’s the only one to blame here. When I found out what he’d done, I was furious. Sick. I wanted to fix it. But I just screwed up worse.”

His voice rasped in her ear, forcing her heart to skip a beat. “Wh-what do you mean?”

He snatched his hands from her, but the imprint of his fingers still burned through her thin t-shirt.

“I can’t...I’ve never talked about it. Not to anyone.” He stalked to the window, pushed the curtains aside. “Have you ever wondered what happened to Colby?” he asked, his voice as casual as if he’d asked her about the weather.

“I tried to find out how I could press charges. But Becca was adamant about keeping it quiet and my parents kept moving us around from one dead-end town to another. I didn’t know what to do.”

“Colby wanted to follow in his dad’s and brother’s footsteps and join the Army. He enlisted right after graduation.” Keith dropped the curtains and stared past her as if lost in his memories. “That summer before he was scheduled to go to basic was like one long continuous party. I think Colby stayed wasted the entire time.”

He moved away from the window and started pacing. She watched, her breath trapped in her throat at his frenetic movements that were at odds with the Keith she’d come to know.

“When Colby got drunk he got diarrhea of the mouth. We’re talking nonstop, here. So, he slaps me on the back and we start reminiscing about the highlights of our senior year.” He swallowed, visibly pushing down his disgust. “And Colby starts bragging about how he bagged this great piece of ass during the winter dance.”

Her stomach churned, twisting into knots, her legs wobbled and she dropped into the nearest chair, head in her hands.

He swore and followed her to the chair, where he knelt in front of her. “I hit him, Grace.”

She lifted her head to meet his stormy eyes, her own stinging with fresh tears. “What?”

“When he told me what he’d done to your sis—to Rebecca—I...I went crazy. I lost it. We were at this old mining cabin with our buddies. It had this loft we’d decked out in party shit, everybody was drinking and God knows what else. And suddenly I hauled off and punched him. Broke his damn nose and knocked him off his feet.”

He pushed away from her again and stood, covering one shaking hand with the other. “Blood poured from his nose but he was so drunk he just laughed. Like it was all a joke. I was so pissed, so disgusted, I told him I was leaving. And he got to his feet and jumped me and I shoved him, just to get him off, you know, but instead, he stumbled back into the railing. The house was old and suddenly the rotted railing just...just separated from the floor. Colby shouted, his arms flailing like a drunken fish. I lunged for him. And even though at that moment I hated him, I...I tried to grab him.”

“He’s...dead?” She could barely push the words past her tight throat.

Keith shook his head. “The fall broke his back. Fractured his skull. The cops and paramedics were called and they hauled me in for assault. I was brought to court for sentencing. The local judge, Harris Raines, was a former Army Ranger who believed my story and took pity on me. He gave me a choice: the Army or jail. At eighteen, I sure as hell didn’t want to get acquainted with the inside of a prison. I took the deal and never looked back.”

He turned to her, deep lines of guilt and shame stamped across his face. “I’m so sorry, Grace.”

And then he waited. For understanding. Forgiveness.

She wanted to give it to him. He wasn’t that boy anymore, deep down he’d confirmed that. But how could she absolve him when she still felt so guilty? She’d cost Becca so much, and had spent her life trying to make up for it. Trusting Keith implicitly or worse, falling for him—which she was in danger of doing if she wasn’t careful—would be a magnanimous betrayal that Becca would never recover from.

Keith’s eyes bore into hers, showing her exactly what she feared. He wanted everything from her and more and she just couldn’t give it to him. For Becca’s sake.

She dipped her head, sacrificing her own wants and desires. ”You’re asking too much, Keith.”

“Damn it, Grace.” His voice held a rusty edge. “I’m sorry. What more can I say. I’m so damn sorry.”

Tear drenched her lashes. Her heart ached, twisted and torn between the strange feelings that Keith invoked in her and the loyalty she had for Becca.

She resorted to the blame game to ease the pain. “How do I know you’re not just saying what I want to hear? Why risk me taking the flash drive and handing it off to those bastards before your computer guru friend has a chance to look at it? You’re the only one who cares what’s on it. Fact is, it might make the difference between clearing your name or having it stay tainted forever. How can you risk it?”

“You want to go your own way?” He dug in his pocket, yanking the flash drive out and slapping it into the palm of her hand. “Fine. I don’t need you or your fucking information.” His eyes narrowed, his voice cutting through her like a rusty razor blade. “But you need me, Grace. If things go sour later today, you know I’m the only one who can get Ryker and you out of it alive.”

The drive burned in her palm. She turned away from him, her stomach twisting into knots with the knowledge that she deserved everything he said to her. After all, she was the one who’d goaded him into being cruel.

Keith watched Grace flee to the outside deck. A part of him wanted to grab her and make her believe in him. The other part of him, the part that won out, urged him to let her cool off before trying again.

Although why he’d want to when she’d deliberately kept her true identity from him was pure insanity on his part. Her reasons for keeping the truth from him may have been valid, but her lies by omission twisted his heart, nonetheless.

His admiration of her made him strive to be a better man. Just like all those years ago out on the track, just being with her made him want to do something that mattered.

He strode to the bed and snatched up the pillow, digging his fingers into its softness. God, it smelled like Grace. He lifted it to his nose, a shaft of longing spearing through him. He still wanted her, despite the fact that she couldn’t let go of their sordid past.

No, he didn’t. What kind of an idiot would set himself up for that kind of misery? He yanked the pillow from his nose and tossed it back on the bed.

That he’d had to drag the truth about her identity out of her after all they’d been through set his stomach to roiling, yet it was the fact that she found him lacking and undeserving of her loyalty—after everything they’d shared—that all but destroyed him.

He clenched his jaw. Destroyed him? He snorted. What a crock of crap. He didn’t give a rat’s ass.

Damn it, yes, he did. He cared. It didn’t matter whether she was Grace Stevens, passionate mother, or Graceless Cooper, the awkward, gangly girl who’d one night made him wish for more out of his life than meaningless parties and an unlimited supply of alcohol.

He wanted to be her hero.

Chapter Twelve

“How the hell are you?” Cameron Scott’s sideways grin greeted Keith when he opened the door the next morning.

Tall with dark hair, gunmetal gray eyes that had gotten him lucky on many occasions, a quick smile, and wearing an ugly ass orange and red flowered print shirt, Cam looked by all accounts to be a laid-back, no cares kind of guy.

But Keith knew what few others did—the smiles and jokes masked a steely determination mixed with a heavy dose of bitterness for the way fate had screwed with Cam’s life.

“As well as expected, given that my career’s in the toilet.” Keith answered and stepped aside, allowing Cam through the door. He clapped his hand to his friend’s shoulder. “You?”

Cam limped into the room, his frayed jeans hiding the massive scarring of his left knee, and grimaced. “King, you know better than to ask that question.”

Ah, yeah, he did. Because Cam’s answer was always the same: like a fucking peach.

“I got here as soon as I could.” Cam set his leather case on the small table.

“Yeah, thanks.”

“Apparently the government didn’t want to let me borrow one of their billion dollar helos.” Cam shrugged, a sardonic smile twisting his lips. “Go figure.”

That was Cam. Sarcasm and jokes. Loyal too. He’d saved Keith’s butt numerous times during recon missions.

Cam’s eyes surveyed the room’s worn fixtures, the heavy seventies style drapes and the puke-central mustard shag carpet. He tsked. “Should’ve gone AAA, man.” His gaze lit on the single set of rumpled sheets. He wiggled his brows at Keith. “What have we here? You obviously left some details out when you debriefed me.”

Keith resisted the urge to snort. “Not what it looks like.”

He turned his back on the bed and folded his arms across his chest, refusing to be reminded of the way he and Grace could’ve woken up this morning. Instead, neither of them had slept. At dawn, they’d resorted to tiptoeing around each other.

“Would you like to use the bathroom first?”

“No, you go ahead.”

“Are you sure?”

“Please.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Screw it. That’s what he’d wanted to say. To hell with it, Grace. He’d take her anger over her politeness any day. He liked her fire. Liked it too damn much.

“What you need is some melatonin,” Cam said with a nod of his head.

He frowned. “What—?”

Cam touched under his eyes. “Racoon eyes, buddy. Not good for your—” The bathroom door opened and Grace stepped into the room, stopping short when she noticed Cam. “Um...” He threw a glance between Keith and Grace. “Uh...sex appeal.” One finger scratched absently at the side of his head. “But Melatonin. Guaranteed to make you sleep like a baby.”

“Cam,” Keith said. “What the hell are you doing?”

Cam shrugged. “Been taking some holistic classes.” He sucked in a breath and patted his stomach. “Cleanse the body, de-stress and all that crap.”

“What for?”

“What the fuck else have I got to do?” Cam’s eyes shot to Grace. “Um. Pardon my French. You must be Grace.” He tossed her a wave. “Cameron Scott. Cam. I’m just going to...” He yanked the chair out from under the table and sat, his fingers straying to his left knee.

“Still giving you trouble, huh?”

Keith expected Cam to deny it and sure enough, Cam shook his head, his fingers still massaging the damaged tissue.

“You’re the one with the trouble buddy.” He turned to the case on the table and unzipped it. “It’s amazing what people will spout off to you when they think you don’t give a damn.”

“Yeah? What’re they saying?” Keith shoved his hands deep into his pockets and clenched his fists.

“About you?” Cam asked. “You’re off your rocker, rigged the explosives to blow during the training exercise so you could steal those missile components to sell to the country’s enemies.” Cam flashed a grin. “The King,” he added, using Keith’s nickname within the team, “has gone rogue.”

“Missile components? What components?” Grace took the words right out of his mouth.

She no longer hovered by the bathroom. Her scent drifted to him from her perch at the end of the bed. God, he didn’t think he’d ever smell the scent of vanilla again without thinking of her.

She looked at him, her green eyes apprehensive, not about their discussion, but about him. Don’t be wary of me, Grace. His throat tightened, but before he could say a word, Cam interjected.

“The ones scheduled to be disbursed to those secret weapons testing facilities that no one’s supposed to know about, yet strangely enough, everyone does.”

Keith brought himself around, putting his back to Grace. “You can’t be serious. They actually think I had something to do with that. How did I manage such a stunt? Did I have an out of body experience when I was knocked on my ass, unconscious, during the explosion? Or better yet, I’m telekinetic and moved them with my mind.”

Cam unpacked his laptop and pressed the power button. The screen blinked to life. “I’ve asked around about the op you and The Bard were working on.”

“Oh, yeah?” Keith tightened his jaw. What lies had Cam heard?

Cam stared at his screen, a muscle bunching in his cheek. “Look, I know I was no longer part of the team when Stevens recruited you for the investigation, but you and I discussed it. Everyone knows this was an inside job.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t think they’d start pointing fingers at me. I didn’t...” Keith squeezed the bridge of his nose, pressure building in his chest. The Army was the one place he’d always belonged. The one place he clicked. To lose the respect of the men who were as close to family as he’d known... “We put ourselves out there for each other. They should know I would never do something like this.”

“Not everyone is against you in this. Duck, PigPen, Chaz...they’ve supported you from the beginning. They want you back, man. And so does the rest of the team. In fact, they’re leading the MPs a merry chase right now in your honor. I think you called Chaz and told him you were headed to Utah. Didn’t you?”