Chapter 15

FIFTEEN

The safe house was a nondescript thing tucked away in a quiet corner of a rundown neighborhood outside the city.

The structure looked like any other old, weathered building in this part of town—a faded facade with crumbling bricks and shutters half open as if the house were afraid to see the world. Meg didn’t blame it.

“Not much to look at,” Declan muttered as they trudged up the overgrown sidewalk.

Morning was only a few hours away, and they had used a ride service to drop them off a few blocks south, but Meg’s feet ached from all the walking—and running—she’d done in the past forty-eight hours. Her eyes would barely stay open.

Tessa glanced back at him. “Some might say the same about you.”

Meg snorted, feeling punch-drunk. Dec shot her a look of consternation.

They entered through the rear, where Tessa punched a code into the keyless lock. The wooden door creaked, and for a split second, Meg felt like she was entering a haunted house rather than a safe one.

Absolute darkness met her eyes before Tessa flicked on the lights. They hung their coats in the tiny mudroom, and Tessa reset the security system, rattling off the code for them to memorize.

The mudroom led to a kitchen with top-grade appliances. “There’s an assortment of dry goods and canned foods in the pantry,” Tessa said. “Frozen meals are in the freezer but I’m afraid it’s light on perishables. I wasn’t expecting company.”

“Coffee?” Declan asked.

Tessa pointed to an upper cabinet before leading Meg through a small living room with a single bedroom and bath to the right.

One bedroom, one bed. Great.

Meg dropped onto the mattress, stretching out her aching shoulders. The tension that had built up in her body was impossible to shake. Her muscles screamed for rest, but her mind wouldn’t let her. Not yet.

Declan surveyed each room with the sharp focus he always had on every mission, regardless of how tired he was. He checked the locks on the windows and front door and made sure all the blinds and curtains were closed.

Tessa caught Meg’s eyes and rolled hers.

Meg found it comforting. Security systems could fail. Dec didn’t.

“Towels and linens are in the bathroom closet,” Tessa told them, walking back through the tiny place. “Clean clothes are in the armoire.” She headed for the back door. “Let me know if you find Tommy.”

Meg trailed after her, feeling a touch of panic at being alone with Declan. “Wait, you’re leaving?”

Tessa glanced at the clock over the sink. “I have to be at work in four hours. Tell Flynn I’ll send him a bill for my services.” She waved. “It’s been fun—kind of. Good luck.”

As the door shut behind her, Meg stood in the mudroom, stunned. Declan reset the security system before brushing a hand over her back. “Why don’t you go take a hot shower? I’ll scrounge up some food.”

She just stood there, everything crashing down on her like a giant wave in the ocean. Food and sleep would help, but then what? Tommy was out there somewhere in the night, and she couldn’t stop thinking about what he’d done.

She didn’t have all the facts, so jumping to conclusions was pointless, and yet…

Those conclusions pummeled her brain, regardless.

She hadn’t realized he was employed at the embassy.

That he was the one with the information on that USB.

That Tommy—Jessie’s baby brother—could even be in the same room with the man who had killed his sister and not seek revenge.

The idea that he might be working with him? That was too horrifying to entertain.

“Meg?”

She startled. Declan was staring at her.

He took her hand and let her toward the bathroom. “Come on.”

He turned on the water, keeping his fingers under the stream until it warmed to his liking. It took a couple of tries to get the shower to work, but finally, it did.

He touched the lapel of her shirt, trailing one finger down the buttons. “Need help getting out of your clothes?”

His tone was sincere, but she saw the teasing in his eyes. She was grateful for it—his attempt at lightening the mood. She waved him off. “Still trying to get me naked,” she retorted flippantly, pleased to see him smile.

“Holler if you need me to scrub your back,” he offered as he walked out, shutting the door behind him.

The water pressure was weak, but it was warm, and that was better than she could hope for. She scrubbed herself from head to toe several times, letting some of her whirling thoughts go down the drain with the dirty water.

When she emerged, she found a set of folded clothes waiting on the sink for her. She was definitely distracted if she hadn’t noticed him sneaking them in.

Of course, he’d always moved with silent and deadly precision. It shouldn’t surprise her that he could get in and out without her noticing. Still, it annoyed her.

She was slipping.

Had slipped.

Would it ever stop?

Could she reverse it?

Leaving the bathroom, her nose led her to the kitchen. He’d set places at the table and reheated a casserole that smelled heavenly.

“It was labeled chicken and mushroom,” he told her. “Directions said to cook it in the oven, but I threw it in the microwave.”

She sank into a chair and started shoveling the saucy noodles into her mouth. It wasn’t the best she’d ever had, but it was damn good at the moment.

He sat across from her, but after a minute, she discovered he wasn’t eating. He was simply staring at her.

“What?” she asked around a mouthful.

“Glad you haven’t lost your appetite.”

She shot him the finger and snagged a second helping. “You can take the couch for that comment.”

“I already made it up.”

She’d passed by it without noticing. Slipping, slipping, slipping… “What if we can’t find him?” she blurted.

Dec dug into his food. “We will.”

“What if we don’t? He’s young and inexperienced. He’s caught up in something way over his head. I’ve seen enough to know how easy it is for someone like him to get messed up because they don’t realize who they’re messing with until it’s too late.”

“There’s nothing you can do for him right now.” He reached across the table and patted her hand. “We will find him, and no matter what he’s got himself involved in, we’ll help him get out of it.”

Always so sure. One of the things she loved about him.

Had loved about him.

He’d been her rock through so many things and always seemed to be two steps ahead of her. His presence was welcome, and yet, it also complicated things. She couldn’t ignore how her pulse kicked when he looked at her the way he was now. The way her heart skipped a beat when he touched her.

She should pull her hand away. Stop staring into those gorgeous eyes of his.

Instead, she set down her fork. She couldn’t afford to have feelings for him, but here she was, drowning in them. “If I let my emotions cloud my judgment, it could jeopardize everything.”

He knew she wasn’t talking about Tommy. He laid down his fork as well, keeping a light hold of her hand. “Can you ever forgive me?”

She knew what he was asking.

She swallowed down the pit that lodged in her throat. Projection , her therapist had diagnosed. Survivor’s guilt . Just a few of the terms the doctor had thrown at her.

“I never really blamed you.” The words were like rough stones in her mouth. “I blamed myself, but you became my whipping post. I was consumed with guilt because she was my responsibility, and I failed her. Failed all of you. You became a target for me to take out all of my rage and self-loathing on.” She was tired. So damn tired of it all. “I’m sorry. It wasn’t fair.”

“You know what I learned in the Marines?”

A lot of things, she bet. “How to properly curse?”

He smirked. “Besides that. I learned that the second in command is a sounding board for the commanding officer. In the war room, in the field, doesn’t matter. The CO needs his second to be a wall. To bounce ideas off, to release pent-up frustration on, to rely on for support, no matter what the odds or situation. A real partner through thick and thin. Better or worse.”

“You make it sound like a marriage.”

“It is in a way.” His thumb stroked over her fingers, one by one. Slow, soothing. “Whatever you can dish out, Meg, I can take it.”

The way he looked at her sometimes, the moments like this when their interactions softened into casual banter… It was dangerous. “Do you ever…” She rolled her finger around her temple.

“Lose my shit? Who doesn’t?”

“I’ve never seen you fall apart. Never seen you come undone like I have.”

“I save it for the ring. I take out my frustrations through boxing.” He glanced down at their connected hands. “You should try it sometime. Might do you some good. Probably more so than seeing that therapist.”

“Hitting people isn’t my thing.”

“You can hit me. I can handle it. You won’t hurt me.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Is that so?”

He smirked. “I guarantee you hit like a girl.”

Fat, rotten son of a bitch. “Sounds like you’re throwing down a challenge.”

“Take it however you want.”

The tension in the air snapped like an electric wire between them. She wanted to take him right now. Sex—fast, hard, knock-it-out-the-park skin-to-skin contact. That’s what would do her some good.

“You should get some sleep,” he said, his voice gentle and rumbling with restraint. Like always, he knew exactly what she was thinking. He thought it was a bad idea.

He was right.

But, damn it. Mission sex with some of the best sex she’d ever had. Or maybe it was just sex with Declan. She’d never crossed that line with anyone else.

He withdrew his touch and devoured another bite of the casserole. He didn’t meet her eyes as he said, “Go ahead. I’ll clean up.”

Was he…backing down?

Declan Reid?

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to get rid of me.”

His fork stopped midway to his mouth, but he still didn’t look at her. “We’ll need to be sharp come morning. We find Tommy, we go home.”

Again, no hesitation, no doubt. In his mind, they had a mission, and they would complete it.

“I can take the hint.” She slid her chair back and stood. “But you’re giving out mixed signals, and I’ve had enough therapy to know it’s because you’re covering. One minute, you’re flirting with me, the next, you’re pushing me away. Why?”

“Because I want what you aren’t willing to give, and I keep hoping you’ll change your mind. That you’ll realize how much you mean to me and let me be there for you. But, right here, right now?” He finally met her eyes. “You’re struggling to keep it together, and you’ve just come down from the adrenaline high. You’re exhausted and not thinking straight. I’m not going to take advantage of that.”

She placed her hands on the table and leaned toward him, nearly nose to now. “Maybe I want you to.”

“Why, so you can hate me again in the light of day?”

That remark hit too close to home. Was that what she was doing? Putting him in a no-win situation so she had a fresh reason to be angry at him again?

She straightened and rubbed a hand over her face. “I’m going to bed.”

She lay down on the mattress, staring up at the ceiling. Sleep felt impossible. Everything was smothering her again, and she didn’t know how to let it go. She willed her racing mind to quiet, but everything was tangled together, a web of emotions and responsibility that she couldn’t seem to escape.

Declan slipped into the room on his way to the bathroom, and she turned on her side. He shut the door behind him before flicking on the bathroom light.

He was a beast in the field, but he was always considerate. Another thing she admired. So many men in his position lost their ability for compassion and simple, decent manners in their unwavering pursuit of duty.

Closing her eyes, she forced herself to take a deep breath. Go to sleep , she ordered herself. Dawn would bring more challenges, more questions, and she needed to be ready.

When she heard the shower come on, her imagination drifted to Dec’s chiseled body, covered by the tattoos he’d acquired—one for every successful mission. Did he have any new ones?

Great, now she had a new reason for not being able to sleep.

Her body craved his.

Memories of their time together played in her head like a movie reel. Undercover ops, the adrenaline, the sheer high it gave her. The after-mission weekends in places around the world.

Her nipples were hard, the spot between her legs aching. It had been over a year since the last time he’d stripped her bare. Pushed her against the wall, pinned her under him, let her ride him…

But it felt so much longer.

The devil on her shoulder egged her on. She flipped back the covers, too hot now. Her core pulsed, desperate for relief. Her fingers ached to touch him, stroke him. Her tongue wanted to taste his muscles, her mouth wanted to gorge on his hard, thick shaft.

She slipped out of bed before she could find any more arguments to the contrary.

In the bathroom, she removed the T-shirt and sweatpants. He poked his head around the shower curtain, his eyes going wide. “What are you doing?”

“I thought you might need someone to wash your back.”

She climbed in, running her fingers over his wet skin. He froze, except for a certain body part that came to full attention.

She slid her hand over it, sighing at the familiar feel of it. Yes, this is what I need.

“Just sex,” she said against his skin. “Okay?”

He started to speak, stopped as she stroked him. “Just sex,” he croaked.

And then he grabbed her, hiked her up by her ass cheeks, and pinned her against the shower stall.