Slaying the Dragon (Deception Duet #2) (41 page)

“Yes,” I responded, although I knew it was a rhetorical question.

“Your pink lips and how they would taste.”

I moaned as his breath grew closer to my center.

“And I thought about doing this to you all night long, how much I wanted to hear you scream my name.”

Finally, his mouth was on me, his tongue circling me, exploring as if it were the first time.

“But you played hard to get,” he said, pulling away. I cried in frustration and opened my eyes to see a frisky smirk on Tyler’s face. “There was a moment when I considered throwing in the towel, thinking no woman was worth this amount of effort, mission be damned.”

Grabbing onto the balcony railing, he slithered up my body, his tongue roaming over every dip and crevice as he stepped out of his boxer briefs.

“I tried to stay away,” he admitted, his lips hovering over mine. His eyes burned into me, his formerly lascivious gaze replaced by one of yearning and idolization. “I didn’t want to do anything to hurt you and I knew being with me would destroy you. But I couldn’t stop thinking about you. We had barely spoken ten words to each other, Serafina, but the thought of letting you walk away crushed me. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t
exist
. So I let down my walls. I let you see the real Tyler. I wanted you to fall in love with the real me, not the person I was supposed to be for my job, not the person I had been for years. You brought the real Tyler back. You breathed life into this dead heart with your kiss…”

Pressing his lips to mine, he caressed my tongue with his. I wrapped my legs around his waist, the space between us too much. He was a part of me and I never wanted to be separated from him again.

“With your touch…” He traced the outline of my neck, his tongue following, lighting me on fire.

“With your love…” His voice was serene as he pushed into me, filling me and withdrawing in quick forceful movements. His motions were at odds with his calm voice and gentle eyes. I tried to hold back my screams, but was unable, both of our voices rebounding in the air on that perfect November morning.

I grasped his hips as they continued their relentless motion, my fingernails digging into his skin. His rhythm grew more frenzied and punishing, a guttural moan escaping his lips as sweat dotted his forehead.

“Harder,” I murmured, a surge of electricity running from my toes and everywhere in between. My mind was blank, all my decisions motivated by that unmistakable sensation of euphoria and bliss only Tyler Burnham could give me.

He grabbed my hair, forcing my head back once more and clamped onto my neck, causing me to yelp and moan, the pain only heightening the pleasure coursing through me. I had never felt as alive as I did at that moment, Tyler’s teeth digging into my skin, forcing an orgasm to ravage through my body. He picked up his pace even more, finally letting out a low grunt, signaling his own release.

Cupping my face with his strong hands, he pressed his lips to mine, his kiss tender as we attempted to control our breathing. Our gaze held and we shared our love through our eyes, our flesh, our bodies. It was fitting. Our first declaration of love wasn’t said with words. One look was all it took. With one look at the bar the night we met, I knew I had met my match. With one look on the dance floor during opening night of the restaurant, I knew I never wanted to be apart from this man. With one look when I found out the truth, I knew his love was true, despite being surrounded in a myriad of lies. And not a day had passed when I didn’t feel his love for me.

Tyler

“F
EELS
GOOD
TO
BE
home, doesn’t it?” I asked Mackenzie as we walked down the hallway toward her condo. After spending a final few days in Palm Beach, we arrived back on South Padre the day before Thanksgiving. I was anxious to get back into the swing of things, but knew a lot of that would have to be put on the back burner to what was now becoming the more important issue… The arrival of our baby in just a few weeks. I still couldn’t believe I would become a father in less than a month.
 

“It sure does. At least we won’t have to live out of a suitcase anymore. And I’m sure Meatball missed me.”

“Did Jenna look after him?”

I nodded. “Yeah. Between her, Richard, Brayden, and one of the girls at the restaurant, he’s been well taken care of.”

“You could have just had Martin arrange for one of my team members to make sure he had food and clean litter, ya know?” I said, trying to hide my unease about anyone I hadn’t done a thorough check on being in her condo unsupervised.

“Tyler…,” she cautioned. “You have nothing to worry about with any of my friends. And Mia, my hostess, only came to watch Meatball when everyone else so graciously dropped everything they were doing to be there when we got married. And look,” she said smugly, sticking her key in the knob and pushing the door open, her eyes still trained on mine. “Everything’s just fine.”
 

My attention focused straight ahead at her kitchen table. My adrenaline spiking, I reacted quickly and grabbed her arm, pulling her back into the hallway and away from the door.

“What the hell, Tyler?!” she exclaimed. “What’s gotten into you?” She narrowed her eyes at me. “Are you still freaked out about what happened…?” She raised her eyebrows, giving me a knowing look.

“That’s not it, Mackenzie.” I glanced back into her apartment, bile rising in my throat. Swallowing it down, I hoped she couldn’t see how unnerved I really was.

“Then what is it? I can handle it.”

Shaking my head, I pulled her close to me, trying to do everything I could to protect her from the knowledge I now had. “I don’t think you can handle this one.”

“It’s
my
condo,” she insisted. “I have a right to know what’s got your panties in a bunch.”

“I know. I promise to tell you exactly what’s in there, but please don’t go inside. No one should have to see this. I’m begging you.”

She glanced up at me, her eyes glistening with worry. “What is it?” she whispered. “Is it Meatball?”

“No, Mackenzie. It’s not Meatball.”

“Then what is it?”

I took a deep breath. “It’s Charlie, Mackenzie. He’s…” I hesitated and ran my hand over my face.

“He’s what, Tyler?” she asked in an unsteady tone, trying to fight against me.

I remained silent and peeked at her open door once more, unsure of how I could even explain what was in there without her wanting to see it for herself.
 

“He’s what, Tyler?” she asked again, her voice louder and growing irate.

Letting out a long sigh, my shoulders slumped forward. “He’s dead, Mackenzie.”

She violently shook her head and pushed against me, bolting into the condo before I could stop her.

“Mackenzie, don’t!”

Stumbling, I tried to pull her away, but it was too late. Her scream echoed against the barren walls and she threw herself onto Charlie as he sat hunched over at her kitchen table, a Beretta M9 loosely held in his hand. His face was almost indistinguishable from the gunshot to his head, and I hesitated to get any closer to see the wound.

At first glance, it appeared Charlie had committed suicide, the blood spray pattern on the light gray walls of Mackenzie’s condo confirming my suspicions. She had feared that Charlie’s last phone call was to say goodbye. I hated that she was right. I hated that she had to see this. Most of all, I hated that I had no idea what to say to comfort her right now.

“Wake up, Charlie!” she begged, shaking his body, obviously uncaring that she was covering herself with his blood. “Please,” she cried out, her plight heartbreaking to watch.
 

I went to her and placed my hand on her shoulder. She snapped her head to look at me, her mascara streaking down her cheeks. She heaved through her sobs, almost unable to breathe. Over the months, I had seen her highs and lows, convinced I had been there for the lowest of her lows, but I was wrong. This woman in front of me was torn in two, heartbroken, confused, bitter, angry, and a thousand other emotions I couldn’t even label. This was a woman who had forgiven Charlie, who chose to see beyond the image everyone else wanted to paint him as, and my heart went out to her. With each tear that streamed down her face, I could almost sense her starting to lose hope in finally getting the happy ending she deserved. And I began to feel it, too.

Instead of pulling her away so she didn’t contaminate what could be a crime scene, I squeezed her shoulder in a compassionate manner. “I’ll give you a minute.”

She nodded and mouthed,
Thank you
, her chin trembling. She returned her attention to Charlie, resting her head on his knee, her sobs rolling through her body once more. Retreating from her, I couldn’t help but think that something about this didn’t sit right with me. Was Charlie really the type of person who would kill himself? I didn’t know much about him, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t what it seemed. Nothing in this case was.

As I looked back at Charlie’s body, I surveyed the pattern of the blood on the wall from where he had supposedly shot himself in the head. It seemed off. It was low…too low, as if someone was standing over him and pulled the trigger.

Disarming the alarm that was now going off, I grabbed my cell out of the pocket of my cargo pants. “Eli, I need you to come over to Mackenzie’s condo as quickly as possible. Charlie’s dead.” I hung up, not wanting to say anything else, unsure of what the truth was.

The next several hours were a flurry of activity as law enforcement officers and forensic analysts swarmed the scene, asking question after question… Questions we couldn’t answer. Mackenzie simply remained sitting on the floor, refusing to look away as the coroner removed Charlie from the kitchen table and wheeled him out on a gurney, a white sheet covering his body.

“Wait a minute,” she said just as they were about to leave with him. Springing to life, she bolted down the hallway toward her bedroom, rummaging through the chest where she kept her father’s Victoria Cross. She came back carrying a folded American flag. Eli and I responded quickly, helping her unfold it and place it over his body.

As they began pushing the gurney down the hallway once more, Eli and I stepped back, snapping to attention and saluting, giving him the hero’s goodbye I knew, deep down, he deserved.

~~~~~~~~~~

T
HAT
EVENING
, I
BROUGHT
Mackenzie back to my house. I had Eli and Martin collect as many of her belongings as they could so she never had to step foot in that condo again. Meatball was a little unsure of his surroundings, but once he realized Griffin was more scared of him than he was of the dog, they got along famously, even within the span of just a few hours.

“Why don’t you get some rest?” I told Mackenzie after I got out of the shower and saw her in the same exact position she had been in since we had gotten here…sitting in the bay window, overlooking the channel behind the house.

“No,” she said evenly, still in shock. “I need to call his aunt and uncle, let them know what’s happened.”

“I’ll do it. Just get me their information and I’ll make all the phone calls you need me to. You need to try to think about something else for a minute…”

“Think about something else?” she sobbed, tilting her head to look at me. “How? How can I possibly be expected to think about
anything
else right now? He warned me this was going to happen and what did I do?”

“Mackenzie, you can’t–”

“
Nothing!
” she exclaimed. “I told him to be smart, and that’s it. I should have pushed him harder to stay hidden…”

“Don’t do this to yourself,” I urged, pulling her body into mine. “Don’t bury yourself in that guilt. You didn’t pull the trigger. I burdened myself with guilt after Melanie died, despite telling my friends and family that the only person to blame was behind bars. But for the longest time, I went to bed thinking I could have done something to prevent it. It took me years to realize I couldn’t. I forced myself to live with that guilt and I wouldn’t wish that upon anyone, so don’t you
dare
do that to yourself. There’s nothing you could have done to stop this. I promise you, we will find the bastard responsible and he will pay. Okay?”

“But what if Agent Suarez rules it a suicide? That’s the way he was leaning when he examined the crime scene. No one seems to believe that Charlie just wouldn’t kill himself. They keep bringing up his record at Walter Reed, not even examining the evidence because he was a schizophrenic who had been off his meds for too long. What if they don’t look harder?”

“They will,” I assured her, having doubts myself, but I didn’t let on. “And if they don’t, we will.”

She studied me for a protracted moment, then nodded and returned her attention to the window, staring outside once more. I wished there was something I could do or say to make her feel better about all this.

Grief is like a storm. It can be calm and refreshing, a way to finally close one chapter of your life. Or it can be as unforgiving as a hurricane. It can bring our world into the abyss of darkness and turmoil. But just like with the most perilous of storms, it will soon pass. We never truly forget the helplessness and fear we felt during the eye of the storm, but we learn to move on and rebuild our lives. We never forget the loss, but the loss no longer consumes us.