Retribution: An Alpha Billionaire Romance (Secrets & Lies Book 3) (11 page)

“Nope, just the last of my emergency stash of good tea. Sorry I hid it before, I was saving it for a special occasion. I guess my first loss in a straight-up fight in twenty years is a good enough occasion. I have some more, would you like a glass?” Nathan asks.

I shake my head. “No thanks. So what has you up?”

“Like I said, I lost. That should be enough to make any warrior spend a bit of time in self-reflection, don't you think?” he asks, looking into the fire. “What's got you up? Another nightmare?”

“A different one, but more disturbing. I wish I could remember it, but it just felt more... I dunno,” I say, shivering. “It felt closer, that's all.”

Nathan slides closer and puts his arm around my shoulders, holding me close. It's so nice, feeling his warm body against mine, and I hum happily, leaning against him. “I’m not sure if new bad dreams are a good or bad thing, but I’ll be happy to help you with them either way,” he says, rubbing my arm. “I also owe you a thank you. For watching my match today.”

“I had to. I love you both,” I tell him, looking up into his haunted eyes. “Is that why you're so troubled? That you threw the fight?”

“What do you mean?” Nathan asks, looking down into my face with a small smile. “Why do you think I would throw the fight?”

“I don’t know a thing about fighting and I saw it. I saw you had Katrina helpless, and that one hit could have knocked her out, maybe even killed her,” I say softly. “And I said no.”

“I don't know what you mean,” Nathan says, his eyes shifting.

“Oh come on, you let up,” I repeat, putting my hand on his chest, where I can feel his heart hammering under my fingers. “I bet you've never done that before, not to the point of losing.”

Nathan smirks, acknowledging the truth, and shakes his head. “No, I haven’t. Seems I’m getting soft, and if you want to know the honest truth, that is what's got me up. I can’t be soft right now. If there’s ever been a time to not be soft, it’s now.”

“Why?” I ask, and Nathan takes my hand, looking at me intently, the firelight dancing in his eyes.

“Because I can’t bear the thought of losing you,” he says softly, his face coming closer to mine. I lean in, raising my mouth, and suddenly his lips brush against mine. We freeze for a moment, then our kiss deepens, and for the first time since high school, I'm kissing a man, and it's a man that I care for.

Nathan's hands wrap around my back, pulling me to him, and I move with instincts I don't even know I have, climbing into his lap and straddling him, running my hands through his hair and letting my tongue reach out, seeking entrance and acceptance from him, the man I love. His tongue touches mine and I moan, my body alive with desire and want, desire I've never felt before. “Oh, Nathan... yes...”

Suddenly, underneath me, Nathan freezes, pushing me back carefully but firmly, lifting me off of him. I slide off, confused as Nathan gets up, his face a mask of horror. “Melissa... oh God, I’m so sorry...”

“Sorry for what?” I ask, confused again. “I... I thought you were enjoying yourself.”

“I was… but I can't!” he half-yells, his eyes anguished. “Can't you see that? I'm stained! And how can I promise to protect you and guard you when I can’t even control my own desires?”

I nod, looking down at my hands. I get up, walking toward him, and he backs up, his eyes panicked as I come closer. “Nathan, please,” I beg him softly, reaching out and cupping his cheek. “Please, don't run away. If being pure means not being able to have you, to not be able to be with you, to not be able to love you, then I don't want to be pure. I want to be with you, I want to love you. I want to hear you say you love me, too. Since that night, I've had good dreams too, you know. Dreams where you tell me that you love me, and then, well…”

Nathan stops, frozen, and I take my chance, courage coming from somewhere I didn't even know existed inside me until this second. I kiss him again softly, standing on my tiptoes and then step back, not smiling, but not frowning. “I love you, Nathan Black. And sometime soon, I want us to be together, whatever that means.”

Nathan looks up at the ceiling above us, then down into my eyes. “I love you, Melissa Sands. But right now... I need to be certain my mind is up to the task at hand. The consequences are too dire.”

I nod, and give him a smile. “I can wait. I've waited nearly thirty-one years for the man I can love with all that I have. I can wait longer if I have to.”

Without waiting for Nathan to reply I walk back to my bedroom, surprised to see Katrina sitting on my bed. “Sorry,” she whispers as I close my door. “I woke up to pee, and saw the two of you talking. I didn't mean to eavesdrop.”

“That's okay. Promise me you're not going to threaten to kick his ass again?” I ask, and Katrina chuckles.

“Considering I had to
win
by him letting me? No thanks,” she says softly, giving me a smile. “Don't worry, this stays between you and me. It was nice to hear him be a little emotional. That’s rare.”

“
H
ey
, can I see your cell phone?” Katrina says with a bit of excitement as I come in from my trip to town. “I've got a new app for you.”

“Uh, sure,” I say, taking my phone out of my pocket and handing it to her. She's got that expression on her face that tells me her inner computer geek is in full control right now. “But why would you be so happy about that? We only take them down mountain every couple of days.”

“Sorry,” Katrina says, but I can see by her grin she doesn't mean it. She and I share so many different things, but technology is the one area where she knows she can run circles around me, despite my best efforts. “Basically, I'm going to wirelessly link your phone to my laptop. Then when we run the app, you'll be able to tie your phone number to my laptop, which will then tie in with the satellite internet link we've got. Your call quality isn't going to be great, you might have a bit of a delay because of the bouncing, but you'll be able to get and talk to folks without a problem.”

“So you're setting up a repeater station basically,” I say, causing Katrina to raise an eyebrow. “What you just said, it is like what we used to do in the military using radios.”

Katrina nods and taps at her laptop some more. “That wouldn't take much. Let's see how well it works. I've got the app up and running now, I think the only drawback you might find is that since your phone will be active all the time running the app, your battery life is going to suck. I'd say if you're not outside, leave it plugged in to charge.”

“Thanks. Have you heard anymore on the New Orleans front?”

“Not so far, I think Peter's slowing down on his hits he's sending Isis on. She still harassing you?” Katrina asks, pulling up a chat room.

“Take a look at the picture folder, you can see for yourself. She is doing things that I have read about, but never actually seen before,” I say, getting up and brushing off my pants. “I think I will go chop some wood, makes me feel a bit cleaner about the world after that.”

I go outside and notice that despite our near constant use of the fireplace, our wood pile is actually as large as we can make it. I guess when you have four people chopping nearly every day, there isn't a single log needed today. With Valentine's Day being just a week away, I doubt we're going to go through all of this before the winter starts to fade away and spring comes to the mountains.

I think about maybe just using some of the larger chunks of log to try and get some exercise in when my phone rings, and I'm surprised, I guess Katrina's app works better than we hoped. I take it out of my jacket pocket, seeing that it's Margaret DeLaCoeur. That's not a name I expected to be calling me.

“Margaret?” I greet her, trying to play it cool. It's been a long time, and the last time we talked, I was trying to actively deceive her husband. “And to what do I owe the dubious pleasure?”

Margaret and I have never really gotten along. Besides her own mental issues that are the result of Peter's mistreatment of her, she blames me for covering for a lot of his indiscretions. Of course I did, but I didn't do it for any other reason than it was part of my job. Not that it matters, and I understand her point of view as well.

“Nathan, please, I don't know who else to turn to,” Margaret says, and in her voice I hear something that tells me she isn't the same alcohol-numbed hot mess I'd last spoken to. “Please, I need your help.”

“What's wrong?” I ask, taking a seat on the large stump we've been using as our chopping block. “You sound... well, you sound scared out of your fucking mind.”

“I am,” she says, without a trace of slurring or drugs in her system at all. “Nathan, I think Peter's sending that woman after me next.”

I see Jackson coming around the corner of the house, and I wave him over. Jackson knows Margaret even better than I do, and he needs to hear this. “Just a moment, Margaret.”

“What's up?” Jackson asks as I put the call on pause. “How's your phone working?”

“Ask your wife. As for what's up, I have Margaret on the phone, she says she thinks Peter is going to send Isis after her. Mind listening in?”

Jackson shakes his head and squats down. I tap my phone and put the call on speaker. “Sorry Margaret, I was looking for a place I can set my phone down. Talk to me, what is Peter saying?”

“He keeps saying that I'm a witness, that with his trial coming up, he has to make sure that there's nobody that can be used against him. He's... Nathan, the way he's looking at me, I don't know what to do. I've tried to reassure him that as his wife they can't force me to testify against him, but I don't think that's helping.”

I nod, knowing what she's talking about. But that doesn't mean you can't choose to testify against your spouse if you want. “What do you want me to do, Margaret?”

“Please, Nathan... I don't know what to do,” Margaret says, obvious fear in her voice. “I know you're helping Jackson and the others. Peter knows that much at least, although he still doesn't know where you are.”

“Good, because he will not find out,” I reply. “And if you’re asking for your own purposes, you’re not going to find out either.”

“No, I don't deserve that,” Margaret says. “I burned that bridge long, long ago. But tell me if you can, Nathan... is my granddaughter as beautiful as I hope?”

“Even more so,” I reassure her. “And she is being raised well by a loving father and mother.”

There's relief in Margaret's voice when she replies, and I can see that even Jackson is moved. “That's good then. Nathan, I know I don't deserve it, but if there's any way you can help me, can you? I... I need to disappear, at least until Peter's trial happens. Do you know how, or if there's anyone you can put me in touch with? I... I'm scared, Nathan.”

I look at Jackson, who nods. “Margaret?”

“Jackson?” Margaret replies, surprise and emotion choking her voice. “Oh Jackson... I'm so sorry about everything.”

“I know. Listen, we'll see what we can do. Give us a little bit of time to talk it over, come up with a plan. Say, two hours or so?”

“That's fine, Peter thinks that I'm out shopping right now. I can keep this up for another four or five hours before he starts to suspect something,” Margaret replies, then chuckles hollowly. “If I want to go longer, I'll just tell him I'm having an affair. He doesn't care anymore.”

Jackson swallows, then nods. “Okay, Margaret. Two hours, we'll be in touch.”

I hang up the phone and give Jackson a look. “So what do you think? Is she lying?”

Jackson shakes his head. “Is Peter after her? I don't know. Does she think he is? Yeah. But Nathan, she's about as batshit crazy as he is. What do you think we should do?”

“We need to talk with our family,” I answer, standing up. “We told her two hours. She may be off her rocker, but we aren't.”

* * *

“
Y
ou realize
what you're saying,” Andrea says thirty minutes later as we sit around the main room, everyone's face written in concern after I finish outlining my plan. It set off a flurry of arguments. The only person in the group to have not met Margaret DeLaCoeur is Melissa, who is sitting next to me and has a deep frown on her beautiful face, disturbed. Andrea continues after seeing she has my attention. “You're talking about going back to New Orleans, when perhaps the one assassin in the world who knows how you operate better than any other is targeting a woman who is, well, not exactly mother of the year.”

“Does her being a bad mother mean that she deserves to die though?” Katrina asks, fixing Andrea with a stare. “I've got no love for Margaret, but according to Jackson, she's legit scared.”

Andrea looks like she's about to argue, then sighs and nods. “I understand that, Katrina. But not to put too fine a point on it, I'd rather leave Margaret high and dry than risk Nathan. He goes down there and tangles with this Isis Bardot, we could lose someone in our family.”

“We could lose members of our family either way,” Melissa says softly, her first words since I finished outlining my plan. “We know that. Even here, with all of our money and isolation, every time we drive down the mountain we take a risk of being discovered, of someone working for Peter finding us. But...”

She goes quiet, and I take her hand, wrapping my fingers through hers. “Go on, 'Lissa. Say what you need to say.”

Melissa looks into my eyes, so beautiful it hurts my heart, and nods, gathering her strength. “Abandoning Margaret would be something Peter would do,” she says, looking back at Andrea and the rest of our family. “Aren't we supposed to be better than him?”

Her question ends all debate on whether we should do something or not, and we spend the next half hour discussing how we should help her. We've still got a half hour on our self-imposed deadline when I go out to Carson's truck, a bag over my shoulder with my Colt in my shoulder holster. I put my bag in the back and my Colt in the passenger seat, turning around to see everyone gathered around. The late afternoon sunset bathes them in golden light, making them look even more precious than they already are, and even BA is looking at me with her big blue eyes, her little hand shoved into the corner of her mouth.

“You sure that's all you want?” Carson asks, nervous. He's carrying, everyone is right now, but he's totally strapped up, and I had to convince him not to come with me. “One pistol with three clips?”

“If I need more than that, then Margaret is dead,” I tell him. “I carry more, and I can attract attention, which is exactly what we don't need. I'll pick up a shotgun on the way at a sporting goods store. Margaret can use that, if she needs.”

Carson nods, and I look around at my family. Melissa was right, they are my family, even if I feel unworthy of them still. “Just remember to check the water pipes if you guys get heavy snow, and I'll see you in three or four days at most.”

I turn to get in the truck when suddenly Melissa steps forward, shrugging off Andrea's supportive arm and reaching for me. “Nathan... wait.”

I stop, half out of the truck when she takes my hand and pulls me to her, her left hand going around my neck and pulling me down for a kiss. It's sweet and tender, and I kiss her back, knowing it might be my last chance. I can't think that way though, and instead I pull her close, letting her know just how much I love her. “You stay safe,” she whispers after our lips part, her gray eyes looking into mine. “Come back to me, please. I've finally found someone, I can't imagine losing you.”

“You won't, I promise,” I tell her quietly. “I’ll do whatever it takes.”

I kiss her again, and hold her tight for a moment before letting go and giving her hands a squeeze. “When I come back, let’s talk.”