Singed (7 page)
In some ways she’d have preferred he confront her about the breakup straight out. No way could they work together on this taskforce and dance around that landmine for much longer. But he didn’t bring it up. In fact he didn’t say anything at all as he walked her to her vehicle and insisted on opening the door for her. His Southern manners were as much a part of him as the fighting skills the Army had drilled into him. It was one of the things she loved and missed about him most.
Standing beside the open driver’s door, she almost blurted
Are we going to talk about it?
Self-preservation made her hold back. She smiled her thanks, wished him a good night and allowed him to shut the door for her. When he’d turned his back she leaned her forehead onto the steering wheel and blew out a deep breath. God, this hurt. She was such an idiot to think she could ever fall out of love with that man. What the hell was she going to do now?
His truck’s engine roared to life beside her. Straightening, she drove to the nearest grocery store, filled a shopping cart and drove first to her dad’s place. He wasn’t home, likely halfway through his twelve hour shift at the shipyard. Just as she’d suspected his fridge was pretty much bare save for the requisite twenty-four pack of beer on the top shelf. Not for the first time she was thankful that he was as high-functioning an alcoholic as he was, showing up for work every shift and paying his bills on time.
At the door she paused to examine a framed photo of the three of them hanging on the wall. Her, her father and Danny on the day of her brother’s graduation from SF school. Danny looked so handsome in his uniform, so full of confidence and excitement about what the future would bring, her father’s smile so proud. Staring at the photo now, her eyes stung. She shut off the foyer light and locked the door behind her.
Gage followed her next to Danny’s. At his door she knocked a few times but there was no answer. Berating herself for the jolt of fear that seized her, she set the groceries down and dug her spare key out of her pocket. Her hand shook as she turned the brass knob. Inside she found Danny passed out on the couch, vials of pills lined up next to him on the coffee table. Pausing in the kitchen doorway, she stared at his chest. It was moving up and down. Claire closed her eyes and let out a breath of relief. For a moment she’d thought—
“Everything all right?”
She whirled around to find Gage standing in the apartment doorway. She’d been so focused on making sure Danny was okay she hadn’t realized she’d left it wide open. “He’s just sleeping,” she whispered, the flood of relief draining what little energy she had left. “I’ll unpack these and get going. He’s not going to wake up anytime soon.”
Probably better that he didn’t until she was gone, so they could avoid another awkward or hostile encounter. And God only knew what Danny would think about having Gage in his apartment, playing witness to his epic downward spiral. Back when she’d first introduced them Danny had clearly worshipped Gage, and would always respect his status as former SF Master Sergeant no matter what.
Shaking her head, she started putting everything away. Gage moved around the tiny kitchen without a word, helping to straighten up the mess Danny had left while Claire stocked the fridge and pantry with staples. Bread, butter, milk and eggs. Peanut butter, apples and bananas. His favorite brand of cookie. She knew he’d send her a thank you text whenever he woke up and saw what she’d done.
She sucked in a breath as the tears clogged her throat.
“Hey.” Large, gentle hands closed over her shoulders.
Claire gave a sharp shake of her head and twisted away, barely hanging on to her control. She couldn’t handle his gentleness and concern right now. If he touched her again she would crumble and she couldn’t afford to.
Before leaving she stopped at the couch to cover Danny with a blanket. She bent to kiss his scruffy cheek and left him, locking the door quietly behind her. Gage was right behind her. The weight of his stare pressed between her shoulder blades all the way down the stairs to the exit.
Outside the sky was a deep cobalt blue, a thousand stars twinkling brightly overhead. Tipping her head back, she drew in a long breath.
“He like that often now?” Gage asked beside her. He stood close enough that she could feel his body heat and smell his clean, woodsy scent. In that moment, more than anything she wanted to crawl into his arms and have him hold her.
No point in lying. “Unfortunately, yes,” she admitted, turning her head to look at him. “It’s like he’s in quicksand. We’ve tried everything we know of to pull him out. But now I don’t think he even cares if he goes under.” It was weird, but in some ways she missed the rages he’d flown into. At least then he’d shown he still had some fight left. This bitter, apathetic Danny frightened her the most.
“Fuck, I’m sorry, Claire. I wish I knew how to help.”
A sad smile twisted her mouth, at his sympathy and choice of words. The F bomb was so Gage. He tended to use it like an adjective, didn’t even seem to notice when he said it half the time despite his efforts to tone it down around her and Janelle. You could take a man out of the Army, but you couldn’t take the Army out of the man, and he’d been in a long time.
“It’s okay. Just hard to accept, you know? Seeing him that way and not being able to do anything.” She was silent a moment before voicing the dark truth that burned like a coal beneath her sternum. “At this point I don’t even like him anymore. Sounds awful and cold for me to say it, I’m sure, but it’s the truth.” It also told Gage how dire things had gotten without her having to explain in detail. He knew how much she’d revered her big brother.
Twisting away she took a step toward her SUV when Gage caught her upper arm in one hand and turned her around to face him. Hard fingers tilted her chin up until she was forced to meet his eyes. So blue, like an endless ocean she could drown in if she wasn’t careful.
“That doesn’t make you a bad person,” he said forcefully, eyes drilling into hers. “He’s lucky to have a sister who still cares about him enough to buy him groceries and check in on him even when he treats her and everyone else like shit. It’s like you said, you can’t pull him out of the quicksand. He’s the only one who can.”
“And what if he doesn’t?” she whispered, admitting her worst fear.
“Then at least he won’t pull you under with him,” he answered.
God.
Claire dropped her head, didn’t resist when Gage slid his arms around her back and pulled her into his body. Slowly, imprinting the feel of him into her memory, she returned the embrace. Warm, solid muscle surrounded her. The horrible weight she’d been carrying seemed to magically ease off her shoulders. She leaned into him, grateful for his presence and that he kept this about comfort only without pushing for more than she was willing to give. Not that she didn’t wish for more—she’d loved their voracious sex life. As a lover Gage could be rough or tender and everything in between. She’d never met a man who could make her burn the way he did. The physical aspect of their relationship had never been the problem, however.
They stood like that on the sidewalk for a long time, neither of them speaking, as though they were both afraid of shattering the harmony they’d forged.
Finally she found the strength to draw her head away from his solid shoulder. “Well. Another long day for us tomorrow. Guess we’d both better get some sleep.” She lowered her arms and eased away from him, every cell in her body crying out in protest. For a fleeting moment she considered throwing all caution aside and giving into the temptation of running her hands through that soft skull trim, then draw his head down to kiss the ever loving hell out of him.
And ten seconds after that you’ll be underneath him in the back of his SUV, naked.
She stepped back. “Drive carefully.”
He nodded, his expression inscrutable, giving her no clue what he was thinking. He’d held her like a friend would, nothing sexual in his embrace at all. What did that mean? Maybe he really had gotten over her and moved on in the past few months. The thought put a lump in her throat, which was crazy because wasn’t that what she’d wanted? Although she’d hated to hurt him, she’d known it was for the best in the end.
“I’m here if you need me, okay?” he said quietly.
Just like that. No demands for more, no expectations.
Her throat tightened more, because she knew he would be there for her no matter what.
I love you,
she thought wistfully.
I’ll always love you.
“Thank you.” Feeling like she was ripping her skin away, she forced herself to step back and return to her vehicle, all the while knowing she faced another sleepless night spent aching for him in her lonely bed.
Mo couldn’t believe his luck. Considering who his target worked for, he’d assumed locating them would be much harder. Yet here he was, on the sidewalk across from the tidy brick two-story house in the quiet residential neighborhood of Columbia. All the lawns were manicured, the fallen leaves carefully raked up and placed into bags waiting at the curb for the city crews to take them away for composting. All except the house he was staring at.
Its yard hadn’t been tidied up for a while, if the carpet of damp, decaying leaves was any indication. The lawn was in need of a mowing too. As if whoever lived here was either too busy to deal with it, or perhaps they didn’t care. Whatever the case, it made the property stand out in this well kept neighborhood. He cast another glance up and down the street. A jogger was headed away from him at the far end. Most of the driveways were empty, everyone off to work or to drop their kids off at school. This was too easy.
It made him nervous.
He’d taken on other jobs for the TTP cell before, little things like reconnaissance or acting as a courier. Never anything as big as this. This was a test, to see if he had what it took, whether all his training they’d provided had paid off. And he was nervous as hell about making sure this operation went off without any mistakes.
A UPS truck pulled away from the curb up the street and passed him. Making sure he displayed confident body posture, Mo crossed the street and walked up the target’s driveway. First he needed something to verify they did indeed live here before he went any further with this. For all he knew, that was part of his test too. A newspaper lay on the welcome mat on the front stoop. Through one of the long rectangular windows that flanked the metal door he clearly saw the security system keypad on the foyer wall, its little red light blinking every two seconds.
He recognized the model, and immediately looked up for the motion detectors mounted on an interior wall facing the door. He’d worked for ADT long enough to guess where the other sensors probably were. On the lower floor window contacts and doors. Few people bothered with the upper floor, and that was probably his best bet for entry. Once he got in, he’d be able to discern where the other motion detectors were and figure out how to disable them. Because to do his work, he needed access into the crawlspace. He circled around the house to the backyard, which was in the same untidy condition as the front.
The sound of a sliding door opening next door on the other side of the privacy fence made his heart jolt.
“Hello?” a female voice called out.
Shit. He quickly stepped back and searched for the best escape route, wanting to avoid anyone getting a good look at him. Before he’d taken two steps, a woman next door stuck her head over the six foot tall wooden fence separating the properties.
She held a toddler on one hip and gave Mo a polite smile, but it was obvious she was surprised to see him there. “Hi.”
“Morning,” he answered, thinking fast. He wore a ball cap and backpack, and the cooler weather excused the gloves he’d worn to prevent leaving fingerprints. He just had to sell her on the idea that someone up to no good would never stand there having a conversation with her like this in broad daylight. “Just checking out the yard. I own a landscaping company. The homeowner called to ask me to come over and give them a quote about cleaning up the place.”
“Oh, they don’t live here—they’re the landlord. The renter left about an hour ago. That’s great you’re going to do the cleanup though. Whenever the leaves build up out front they clog the gutters and then when it rains hard our yard gets flooded. I’ve talked to the landlord plenty of times and they never do anything about it.” Her annoyed expression softened when she offered him another smile. “Are you going to do the gutters too?”
“I was just going to look at them.” Climbing up on a ladder would give him the perfect opportunity to check for an entry point on the upper floor.
“Great.” She turned her head to coo something at the blond-haired boy on her hip, then looked back at Mo. “Well, have a good day.”
“You too.” She disappeared from view and he heard the sound of the sliding door shutting behind her a moment later. He let out a sigh of relief. Nosy neighbors made his task more difficult. The blinds were drawn on all the windows except for one on the upper floor that he guessed must be the master bedroom and there was no way he could see through it without having an extension ladder, which he didn’t have. Even if he’d just given himself the excuse to pretend to be checking out the gutters, he’d verified the address and the neighbor lady said the occupant was a renter, so he was positive he had the right place.
