Chapter 43

Chapter Forty-Three

T he boat lightly rocked, a cozy haven as they lay on the double bed in the stateroom, Kira's cheek pressed to Rand's bare chest, her hand resting over his heart. The beat was rapid but slowing as they both caught their breath. One hand stroked her back, dipping down to cup her bottom. She wished this peace would last longer than the time it took for their breathing to even out, but already her mind was spinning in three different directions.

"If we're going to make this work," she said, "we need to get in a big ugly fight tomorrow."

Rand let out a pained laugh. "Not the first thing I want to hear after making love, but I understand."

She winced. "Sorry. I promise I wasn't thinking about fighting while you were inside me."

His arm tightened around her, while the fingers of his other hand threaded through her hair. "So what do you want to fight about?"

"Better if we don't plan it. I'm sure we can improvise in the moment and it will look and feel more real."

"'Kay."

She ran a hand over the smooth moguls of his abs, enjoying the feel of his nails on her scalp. "Tell me about your parents." Anything to avoid thinking about hers—all three of them.

The fingers threading through her hair stilled for a beat. "It's not a pretty story. But, obviously, not as ugly as yours, either."

"The weird part is, up until today, I would have said my parents were pretty great. I just had questions." She wondered if she'd ever return to that mental space. But right now, she didn't want to think about it. It was nearing midnight, and they'd been working for hours to plan for tomorrow. At last, they were in bed and she had a few minutes of escape. She'd opted to save shower sex for another time, because she'd wanted to lie with him like this.

Rand's fingers began working her scalp again. She closed her eyes and made a sound a lot like a purr.

"My childhood was pretty great too," he began. "It wasn't until later things got rough. You asked me last December what my dad did."

"You said he drank in a way that it sounded like it was his job."

"Yeah. It was flippant, but true. In the end, anyway. He served in Vietnam, drafted when he was nineteen. Never talked about it. In his twenties, he went to college and ended up being a middle school teacher. Language arts, social studies, and physical education. Several years in, he met my mom, a high school English teacher who was ten years his junior. He had PTSD and everything you hear about with Vietnam vets, and of course, it was untreated, but he held it together, first for work—he loved teaching—then because he was in love with my mom. They had me and, two years later, my sister.

"Things were good at home. At least as far as I knew. He coached my Little League baseball team and was the junior varsity baseball coach at the high school. He could have played in the minors if he hadn't been drafted."

Kira felt dread at where the story was headed. She shifted so she could tilt her head back and see his face. He lifted her hand from his chest and brought it to his lips, then placed her palm back on his heart.

He turned his gaze to the ceiling as he spoke in a monotone voice. "My dad got upset when I joined ROTC in college and told him I intended to become a SEAL. I thought at first he was mad because I wasn't going to play minor league ball or even college ball, but I didn't want to live his interrupted dream. My mom told me it wasn't that. It was the military. He couldn't stand that I was willingly joining the ranks of the war machine that had stolen his dreams. He'd always been a drinker, but according to my sister, it got a lot worse when I went off to school. He began to unravel. It all happened so fast."

"You aren't responsible for your father's breakdown."

"I know. But it's like telling me it's not my fault you were abducted. I saw it happening. My mom even begged me to change my mind. Humor my dad and play ball. I could fail out of baseball honestly and call it a gap year. But I refused. I was angry she'd even asked. I had a full scholarship, and ROTC was no small part of that. If I didn't take it, another student would get it, and no guarantee I'd get it the next year."

"It's ridiculous anyone—let alone a parent—would expect you to give up a scholarship."

"That's why I didn't. I feel bad for the situation I left behind, though. Especially for my little sister. Maggie's last two years of high school were rough. We suspect my mom had been cheating for a while, but when Dad spiraled, she became less discreet. Like, shewanted to get caught, never considering the consequences. The guy was another teacher at the high school."

"Oh shit," Kira said.

"Yeah. His wife was also a teacher. He taught biology. She was the only art teacher. The middle school and high school campuses were right next to each other, and one day, my dad decided to surprise my mom with a fancy takeout lunch as an apology for the ugly fight they'd had the night before. I guess it was bad, but not nearly as ugly as what happened when my dad walked in on my mom and the biology teacher having sex in her classroom.

"She'd locked the door and the lights were out, but my dad had a key. He told the police he'd used it so he could set up the meal with a tablecloth and flowers. The biology teacher was hospitalized. Broken bones. Internal bleeding. Dad was arrested and fired. Mom and the other teacher were suspended. No one could prove they were having sex, or they'd have been fired too.

"My mom left my dad, but stayed at the house until he was released from jail, then she rented a studio apartment. No room for Maggie, who not only had to live with our messed-up dad as he awaited trial, she also had another year at the same high school where our parents had very publicly imploded. Fortunately, she'd already taken biology, but art was out as an elective."

"That must have been so awful for her."

"I lived three hundred miles away. Maggie took the train to see me at school as much as possible her senior year."

"Did your dad go to prison?"

"He ended up plea bargaining down to three months' jail plus community service. My mom moved back to be with Maggie while he was locked up, but things were strained between Maggie and Mom too. Mom kept trying to blame everything on Dad, Vietnam, and…me. Yes, all those played a role, but so did she. The fact that she never told us about Dad's panic attacks, that she chose to cheat instead of dealing with their issues, she never shouldered any of it. After Maggie graduated high school, our mom submitted her resignation to the school district and left. Graduation day was the last time Maggie and I saw her."

"I'm so sorry, Rand. Do you know what happened to her?"

"She moved to a double-wide on the Gulf coast of Florida, but died of lung cancer before my niece was born. I like to think she'd have shown up for Maggie then if she'd been alive."

"And your dad? What did he do after jail?"

"He lived off social security and his teacher's pension and drank. He died of liver failure not long after Mom passed."

It was such a painful story, but for her, the most shocking part was their mother's abandonment, when it was the father who'd been the violent alcoholic. There must've been a lot his mom hadn't shared for her to turn her back on her children without a word.

It raised questions about her own mother's choice to abandon Reuben, but right now, her focus was on Rand.

"I'm so sorry."

He gave her a grim smile. "I work hard to remember the good times. At least, the times that were good for Maggie and me. We were loved. Maybe things would have been different if Dad had gotten support from the VA." He smiled again, and this time, it wasn't pained. "He was sober for my graduation. And he said he was proud when I made it through BUD/S. He let go of his anger at me for not living his baseball dreams. We got along during his last years. He would clean up when needed. He attended Maggie's wedding. He didn't walk her down the aisle—we couldn't be certain he wouldn't be too drunk to walk—so I did. But he was there in the front row, and he was happy and sober."

"It sounds like you found peace with him in the end."

"Yeah. Maggie did too." He was silent for a bit, then said, "He told me one night in his last year that the reason he freaked about me joining the military and wanting to be in the SEALs was he knew they'd make me into a killer. Like they did him. And he never wanted that for me. Couldn't understand why I'd choose it. I think about that a lot. And he's not wrong. I have killed. I wasn't forced into this job. I wanted it. Fought for it. Thought I was going to die several times in the process of getting it, but I refused to ring out. Dad would have done anything to be allowed to quit."

"Thank you. For telling me, I mean. I can't wait to meet your sister."

He scooped her up and rolled to his back again, so she was on top of him. "I can't wait for that too. She knows about you." He kissed her collarbone.

"Because of the dedication?"

He chuckled. "Yeah. She had questions."

"Who are you going to dedicate the next book to?"

"Probably my niece. Or maybe Freya. She introduced us, after all."

"I've never thanked her for that."

"Me neither. I was too busy trying to play it cool and not let on I was obsessed with you." His mouth explored her neck and shoulder.

"She saw right through us," she said.

"Well, that's Freya. It's kind of her superpower."

"One among many."

"Does she scare you as much as she does me?"

Kira burst out laughing. "Oh my god…the day we met, I was so freaked out about seeing her—it had been a few months and the timing was last minute, no time to mentally prepare, and she always terrified me. And then there was Ian and you, and I get flustered around attractive men. I was hopeless."

"You were hot and adorable. But I'm going to ignore that thing you said about Ian."

"He's objectively attractive. You'd have to be blind not to notice. And Freya doesn't scare me so much now. At least, I don't think she will." She kissed his chest, then turned her cheek and rested her head, closing her eyes. "I'm looking forward to seeing her after this."

He chuckled. "As long as it's Freya and not Ian you're eager to see."

"Oh, I always enjoy seeing him. But that's generic. If it makes a difference, I never once tried to imagine him naked like I did you."

"Do I live up to your imagination?"

"You tell me. Remember what happened when I saw you shirtless the first time?"

"It's one of my favorite memories of all time."

"It was only twenty-four hours ago."

"That changes nothing."

She again ran her hand over his abs. "You'd better not go shirtless when we're at Laskin's. One look at your spectacular physique could give you away as a special operator."

"Sweetheart, you noticed my muscles even when my clothes were on."

She played with a nipple until it peaked. "Yes, but I didn't know until you took your shirt off. I suppose you could say you're a bodybuilder or fitness instructor for your day job."

"That works. I'll ask to see his home gym and give him all sorts of unsolicited advice."

She snickered. "He'll see you as irritating, but not a threat."

The fact that Laskin had no reason to think Rand was anything other than what he'd claimed was on their side. Whoever had searched his hotel room had found manuscript pages with handwritten notes and nothing about his military service.

He'd locked down his privacy before he became a SEAL and had no social media presence. There were a few men with his name on LinkedIn and Freya had created a profile for him there—without a photo—last winter in case Gillibrand did some digging.

His website under the name Reece Foresman and the LinkedIn profile under his real name were now being embellished by tech wizards at FMV, adding biographical details should Laskin decide to do some searching.

"We need to tell Freya to add that to your bio."

He nodded and reached for his phone and sent a text.

His mood had turned serious, and she could guess why. Everything hinged on Laskin's focus remaining on Kira. Tomorrow, they'd take a massive gamble, and even if they got what they wanted, when all this was over, Laskin would remain untouched.

Taking down Grigory Laskin was not the goal. It wasn't even a likely outcome.

Like all billionaires who funded terrorism and coups, Laskin would remain free and clear from whatever atrocity he had planned. The only way he'd pay a price would be if he was caught pulling the trigger or detonating a bomb himself. But men like Laskin never did their own killing. They sent in mercenaries or traitors to do their dirty work.

Rand was taking a huge risk in entering Laskin's home. The oligarch wanted nothing more than to kill Navy SEALs and had a team of henchmen on his staff.

"If they manage to figure out who—what—I am, you need to be shocked. You don't know me. I was conning you. Turn your back on me and get out."

"I won't do that?—"

"Promise me, Kira."

"I can't leave you."

"If you don't, then whatever happens to me will be for nothing. I'll need you to finish the mission. Find out what Laskin and Kulik are planning and tell my team."

"But what if I don't know anything? What if I can't finish the mission? How could I live with myself if I left you and we still fail?"

"Then do it for me. Do it because I love you and it would destroy me to watch them hurt you just to get at me. Promise me, Kira."

Her eyes burned at the intensity of his words and gaze. He'd said it. He loved her.

She cupped his jaw and ran a thumb over his cheekbone. "I promise."

R and was just drifting to sleep when his cell phone rang. As a SEAL, he didn't have the luxury of ignoring it, no matter how late. Especially when it was late.

Kira stirred beside him as he checked the phone. It was a call to the number Freya had set up and printed on the business card he'd passed out at the gallery.

Could be anyone, but he suspected he knew who was calling.

He hit the Accept button. "Fallon."

"Are you really an author, or are you conning my sister?" Reuben's voice—and tone—were easily recognizable.

"What's it to you?"

Kira turned on the bedside lamp, then rolled to face him. Her expression showed she was alert in spite of being fully asleep a moment before.

"She's my sister."

"And you care so much about her. It's heartwarming, really."

"I'm not convinced she's not complicit with Conrad and our bitch of a mother. But that doesn't mean I like the idea of a con man using her to get to my money."

"You'd make an interesting character for my next book. Tell me more."

Reuben let out a sharp laugh. "I might like you in a different situation."

"You can like me in this situation. I make your sister happy, and I can help you."

"How so?"

"I can keep her away from your father. Convince her to return to the US and forget about the Kulik billions. Whatever you need."

"And why would you do that?"

"Because you'll pay me."

Kira's narrowed eyes told him he knew what their very public first argument would be about. Worked for him. Let Reuben think he was dividing and conquering.

"So this is a con."

"I'm looking out for Kira's interests. If it benefits me too, so be it. The book business is uncertain." That was true enough.

"How much do you want?"

"It's crass to talk numbers like this. We should meet. Tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow will be too late. You see, I'm also entertaining an offer from Laskin, except he will pay me . He has plans for Kira to consolidate his power with my father's."

"Kira is mine ."

"Perhaps. But she has other uses."

The call ended.