Traitor (13 page)

I struggled to hide my embarrassment as I held up my shirt so that Agent Vaughn could photograph the bruise on my stomach. They needed to log it as evidence, but I was decidedly uncomfortable baring any part of my body to a man who wasn’t Sean. I trusted Clayton implicitly, but my hands still balled to fists in the fabric of my blouse. Thankfully, he was professional and efficient, and it only took a minute for him to snap the shots that he needed.

“Okay,” he said, lowering the camera. “All done.”

I hastily shoved my shirt down, but when I lifted my gaze back to Clayton’s, his eyes were still fixed on my midriff. Had he simply not had the time to glance away, or were his eyes lingering? I shook it off. He had never been anything but sweet to me. When he touched me, it didn’t feel intimate. At least not in a sexual way. His warmth was pure comfort, and I was sure that he was only interested in being my friend. I was reading too much into this; I was just caught up in my discomfiture and imagining things.

He smiled at me gently. “I have to debrief you now. I know that you don’t like this part, but it’s necessary.”

I nodded, squaring my shoulders and lifting my chin. “I know,” I said. “It’s okay. I’m getting used to it.”

That was a bold-faced lie. The feeling of guilt that weighed heavily on me would never be allayed. But there was nothing for it. Sean had been right: there was no backing out now. My only options were to continue with my task or run. And that would leave Sean vulnerable, at the mercy of his father for the rest of his life. I didn’t want that for him.

I followed Agent Vaughn into the interrogation room – I couldn’t help thinking of it like that. When the camera was on and he was seated across from me, the questioning began.

“Tell me what happened last night,” Agent Vaughn ordered. “How did you come to be injured?”

“Bradley hit me,” I replied, anger at the memory of him hurting Sean lacing my tone.

“And why did he do that?”

“Because he’s a volatile, hateful bastard,” I flung out.

Agent Vaughn raised his brows at me, waiting for more.

I sighed. “I went to the apartment that he shares with Sean before Sean came home from work. I did what you asked me to: I tried to question him about Ronan. Although I couched the questions in terms of concern for his dislike of me, I pressed too far. Bradley became suspicious, and he threatened me physically.”

I suppressed a shudder as I recalled his grip on my throat, the phantom feeling of his fingers curled around my neck almost tangibly brushing over my skin even though I was ensconced in the safety of the FBI office.

“Sean came home then,” I continued, “and Bradley backed off. But he said that he knew that I was dangerous, and that Sean was blind to it. He was right,” I said quietly.

Agent Vaughn allowed me a moment of silence, then pressed me on. “What happened then?”

“Bradley said some nasty things about me, and Sean attacked him. I tried to help him, and that’s when Bradley hit me. Sean took him down, and I made him back off.” I closed my eyes and drew a shaky breath. “Bradley was furious. He said that he was going to tell Ronan about me asking questions so that Sean’s father would force him to let go of me. Sean took me home then.”

I opened my eyes and fixed Agent Vaughn with a hard, determined look. “Is that the proof you need that Bradley is willingly working for Ronan? Can’t you see now that Sean doesn’t want any part of it, but he doesn’t have a choice?”

Agent Vaughn was looking at me with concern. “It seems that way,” he admitted. “I’m sorry that I put you in that position. If I hadn’t asked you to get close to Bradley, then this wouldn’t have happened.”

“It was worth it if I got you the proof that you needed to back off of Sean,” I said coolly.

He regarded me seriously. “You do realize that you might be in very serious danger if Bradley goes to Ronan, don’t you? Sean might be in danger as well for refusing to let you go. I understand if you want to stop this now. The situation has changed, and we can put you in witness protection if that’s what you want. We would understand.”

“I’m not running,” I said definitively.

Agent Vaughn nodded. “Alright then,” he conceded. “But we’re putting a security detail on you.”

“No,” I said staunchly. “That might tip them off.”

“This isn’t up for discussion, Dr. Ellers. What you’re doing is important, but it’s not more important than your life.”

We glared at one another for a moment, facing off. Then I dropped my eyes, realizing that I couldn’t argue with the power of the FBI.

“Fine,” I snapped. “But you better not blow my cover. I’m seeing this through no matter what.”

Agent Vaughn’s lips quirked up at the corners, and I could see a hint of Clayton shining through as he tried to suppress a smile. “We’ll do our best, Dr. Ellers,” he promised.

He stood and switched off the video camera, and he fully unleashed the grin that he had been holding back. “You’re a regular little spitfire, aren’t you, Claudia?” He asked, amused.

It was my turn to try to hold back my smile. “If you say so.”

“I do,” he replied, his eyes twinkling.

Now I smiled back, unable to resist his infectious lightheartedness. I followed him to his office, but when I settled myself across from him I was dismayed to see that his expression had turned somber. A sinking feeling filled my gut.

“Okay. What’s the bad news?” I asked, uncertain if I really wanted to know.

Lines of anxiety appeared around his eyes. “I wasn’t sure if I wanted to tell you this, but you deserve to know.” He paused, but I looked at him expectantly, waiting. He sighed heavily. “That member of the Latin Kings that I told you about talked. He pointed me in the direction of a member of the Westies who was incarcerated with him. I agreed to cut him a deal in exchange for the information.” The lines around his eyes deepened. “You have to know that I thought the information was legitimate. He was a known dealer in the disputed territory around the time your parents were killed. It was highly possible that he was the culprit or at least had information. But it turned out to be a false lead. He had an alibi for that night, and he refused to say anything else, even though I offered him a deal. If he does know anything about your parents’ murder, he’s too scared to talk. Turns out it was a dead end. I’m sorry, Claudia,” he said sincerely.

It was a blow; I couldn’t deny it. I had allowed myself to get my hopes up that the Latin King would lead us in the right direction; it had been a grave mistake to raise my expectations. If it had been as easy as all that, they would have caught my parents’ killer years ago. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

“I understand,” I said hollowly. “Thank you for trying.”

“This doesn’t mean I’m giving up, Claudia,” Clayton said fiercely. “I’ll find another lead. We are going to find the man who took them from you. I promise.”

I just looked at him sadly, knowing that that was a promise he probably wouldn’t be able to keep. But I didn’t want to voice my doubts, so I just nodded. I wasn’t about to give up either.

“Thank you for telling me,” I whispered.

“It’s not a problem.” The look he shot me was intense, and I was caught up in the lovely depths of his bright blue eyes. “I won’t keep anything from you, Claudia. I don’t want to cause you any more pain, but I want you to know that I won’t lie to you. You can trust me.”

“I know,” I said with a small smile. “Thanks. That means a lot to me.”

He returned my smile, but I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. That had been a pretty big admission for me. I knew that I wanted to be friends with Clayton, and I was amazed at the trust that had so quickly been established between us. Still, it was a difficult and foreign concept to come to terms with after my years of isolation.

“I should probably go,” I said, thinking of Sean waiting for me to “get off work.”

But then I paused, a horrible thought striking me. If the FBI was going to be tailing me, then they would know just how much time I was spending with Sean. It wouldn’t be hard for them to put two and two together and figure out the nature of our
relationship.

I blushed furiously, knowing that it would be better to make the admission ahead of time than face the embarrassment of Clayton knowing but leaving it like an elephant in the room, weighing heavily on our easy companionship. I didn’t want that.

“Um, I need to tell you something,” I said in a rush.

“You can tell me anything, Claudia,” he said kindly.

“It’s just that… I… I’m seeing Sean.”

His brow furrowed. “I know that.” He was confused, clearly not getting what I was saying. I bit my lip.

“I mean, I’m
seeing
him.” My cheeks flamed hotter.

“Oh,” Clayton said. The word was simple, but a hint of surprise colored his tone. After my vehement refusal to resume a sexual relationship with Sean, he was clearly taken aback by this revelation. I was mortified, and I needed to make him understand that I wasn’t some floozy who was sleeping with a man just to gain information from him.

“But it’s not like that,” I said quickly. “I care about him; I can’t seem to help it.” A part of me was distantly amazed that I was divulging such private information, things that I had barely been able to admit to Sean. But now that I had begun, it was as though I had opened the floodgates, and I couldn’t seem to stop myself.

“I have feelings for him, but every word that I say to him feels like a betrayal. And I hate myself for it.” My eyes were burning as tears threatened.

Clayton stood quickly, and I watched him through blurring vision as he strode towards me. He knelt beside me and wrapped his arms around me, one behind my back and one holding my head against his shoulder. I turned into him, unable to hold back a sob.

“It’s okay, Claudia,” he said softly. “You’re okay. I didn’t realize how much we were putting you through. I can’t imagine how hard this is on you.”

“I keep – telling myself – that I’m doing this for – him,” I gasped out. I was starting to hyperventilate. “I want to help. But I’m just going – to hurt him.”

“You are helping him,” Clayton assured me gently, stroking his hand up and down my back. “You’ve proven his innocence now. You’re going to free him.”

“I’m going to destroy him!” I cried out, finally giving voice to the anguish that had been pent up inside of me for days.

Clayton said nothing. What could he possibly say? He couldn’t deny the stark, horrible truth. My vision was tunneling as I gasped, but no air was reaching my lungs. My fingers were going numb where they clung to his lapels.

“Breathe, Claudia,” he commanded.

I realized that I was going to pass out, and I forced myself to gulp in air, forcing it painfully through the tightness in my throat. After long moments, my sobs quieted, and I cried silently. I felt wetness beneath my cheek, and I realized that my tears were soaking his expensive suit. I drew back from him with a shaky, half-maddened laugh.

“Sorry,” I said.

His grip shifted, and he placed his large hands on either side of my face, his thumbs gently wiping away my tears.

“There’s no need to apologize,” he assured me steadily. “You shouldn’t hold these things in, Claudia. If you do, they’ll consume you. I’m glad that you feel that you can talk to me.”

“Thank you.” I gave him a watery smile, and this time it was genuine. “I seem to be saying that a lot tonight.”

“You are more than welcome.” He drew away from me slowly, almost reluctantly. It was as though he sensed my need for space as I came back to myself, pulling the pieces of myself back together. But it was easier that I had expected. I felt… lighter somehow, the burden of my guilt eased. Impossibly, sharing with Clayton had helped lift it from me ever so slightly.

I wiped the rest of the wetness from my cheeks. “I really should go now,” I said, and my voice barely trembled.

“Okay,” Clayton said. “But I want you to call me if you need me.”

If you need me.
I was astonished to acknowledge that a part of me
did
need Clayton. And that scared me. I stood quickly, not looking at him as I shot a brief “Bye” in his direction. I strode confidently through the building, but I knew that my red-rimmed, puffy eyes gave me away, and I avoided the gazes of the FBI agents as I passed their desks.

When I reached the refuge of my car, I took several deep, calming breaths. I couldn’t face Sean. Not tonight. I didn’t want him to see how broken up I was. He would question me relentlessly, and I wasn’t sure that I could withstand the onslaught. I took out my phone and texted him, too much of a coward to call. The sound of his voice would break me.

“I can’t see you tonight. Sorry,” I typed.

He answered almost immediately. “Why not? :( “

I couldn’t hold back a quiet laugh at the emoticon. “I’m totally wiped.” Well, that wasn’t a lie.

“I don’t mind. We don’t have to have sex. I just want to see you.”

I closed my eyes. God, why did he have to be so sweet to me? I longed to feel his arms around me, for him to comfort me. But that just wasn’t an option. “I don’t believe you ;) “

“ :O I’m shocked you would accuse me of perfidy.”

Perfidy?
Who used words like that? Other than me. I realized that he was mocking me.

“Okay, I would jump you. You really wound me up this morning, but I’m just too exhausted to do anything about it.”

Several seconds passed before he responded. “Alright then :( . But you had better not touch yourself.”

“Damn. I hoped you had forgotten. Alright, you win.”

“I always do ;) .”

Damn him and his silly emoticons! They were almost as bad as his puppy-dog look. Completely ridiculous and utterly charming.

“Cocky bastard.”

“Watch yourself, little one.”

“Yes, sir,” I mocked, remembering how he had sardonically addressed me as “ma’am” earlier that morning.

“Why, Claudia, I thought you’d never say that. I rather like it. You should say it more often.”

I gasped and my clit pulsed. Was he serious? A smirk spread across my face.

“Goodnight, sir.”