Hunted by the Past, page 7
“Flash.”
Confirmation hurt. Yet, I couldn’t let it go just yet. “Not Tag?”
“He was approached but hadn’t made a decision at the time to join the team.”
Stunned, I stared blindly at the innocuous folder in my lap. My mind struggled with this new information as I tried not to acknowledge my growing sense of disillusionment. Had they considered me the leak? Neither my mentor, nor my best friend, had clued me in, which may be an answer in itself.
I put my life on the line time and time again for the marines, for Flash, for Tag. At eighteen, after the ten-week hell of boot camp, followed by the fifty-four-hour, ten-mile endurance course known as the Crucible, I had forged lifelong bonds that grew with each enlistment. Bonds necessary to survive the ordeal of war.
Learning that those I had trusted most kept things, important things, from me hurt. Their implied rejection sent a long, snaking crack through my heart. “How long had Flash been working for you?” I choked out. How long had he kept me in the dark? How long had he not trusted me?
Kayden turned off the highway and navigated his way through the twists and turns of a tucked away neighborhood on the outskirts of Sedona. “It’s not my place to answer.”
Numb from too many emotional hits, I said, “No, it’s not.”
He shot me a sharp look as he pulled into a small, dusty parking lot in front of a wooden building. A sign reading JASPER BED AND BREAKFAST hung between two painted posts on the porch. “Cyn?”
“I’m fine.” And I would be. I checked out the place. “Why are we here?”
He shut the engine off and opened his door. “Delacourt wanted a secured place to meet.”
That information jerked me out of my numb state, but it was the sound of the back hatch lifting that made me scramble out of the Jeep. I rounded the Jeep, file in hand, and watched as he pulled out his bag. “Delacourt’s here?” That wasn’t panic in my voice, really it wasn’t.
Kayden, duffle bag slung over his shoulder, shot me an amused look and handed me my bag. “You wanted answers, right?”
“Not that badly.” I grabbed my camera bag from the back.
His grin flashed. “Don’t worry, she’ll be here in a few hours, so you have time to prepare.”
A few days wouldn’t be enough, much less a few hours. Instead of admitting that, I followed his wide back as he strode to the far end of the property where a small, wooden cabin with dark windows sat. What was the worst that could happen anyway?
She could shoot you and put you out of your misery, offered a helpful little shit in my head.
I snorted. Yeah, she could, but I doubted it. She’d never let me off that easy.
Chapter 6
Kayden took the cabin’s two front steps with ease and punched in a series of numbers into the electronic lock. The lock released with a soft beep and he pushed the door open. Motioning for me to stay put, he pulled his weapon out, and disappeared into the shadowed interior.
A light came on inside less than a minute later, causing me to blink rapidly. When my sight cleared, Kayden stood in the doorway. “It’s clear. Make yourself at home.” He stepped back, giving me space to enter.
I checked out the cabin. “Nice.”
The layout was simple and straight forward, with the small, but functional kitchen sitting to my left. I set my gun and the file on the round, wooden table standing between the kitchen and the living room. Near the French doors leading to a shadowed patio, an L-shaped couch faced a stone fireplace. “How long are we staying?”
“Just a night.” Kayden dropped the car keys on the table and set his duffle beside the couch. “Tag should be here before Delacourt.”
The clock on the wall indicated it was only six-thirty. My body disagreed. I dropped my bag next to his, and then made my way to the couch and collapsed. The cushions cuddled me and I let my head fall back. I closed my eyes. My headache from earlier was back, this time with friends. For a few precious minutes the ache kept the inside of my head relatively quiet.
From the kitchen the sound of a cupboard being opened, and then closed, was followed by the rattle of ice against a glass. My mini oasis of peace broke when the cushion next to me sank under Kayden’s weight.
“Here.”
I blinked my eyes open and rolled my head to the side. Lifting it would make my headache worse.
Kayden held out a glass of ice water. Two white tablets lay in his palm. I took the glass but eyed the tablets.
“Aspirin,” he said.
Sighing, I picked them up and popped them in my mouth. After washing them down, I mumbled my thanks and closed my eyes. The silence resettled, quiet and surprisingly calm.
The file waited for me on the table, a Pandora’s Box of answers for my questions. A selfish part of me didn’t want to deal with them right now, not while I was still processing Kelsey’s death. And, yeah, all that Kayden shared. For now, I let the information gather in a corner and mutter to itself.
Trying not to think is harder than it sounds. My brain wanted to sprint forward, but the bands of pain throbbing across my cerebral cortex kept the urge in check. The aspirin needed time to work their magic. I did my best to regulate my breathing and relax, muscle by muscle. The concentration it took to do so helped chase away the mental images and voices hovering for attention.
It took time, but eventually I managed. When my shoulders downgraded from seriously stressed to anxious anticipation, I floated in the hazy in-between state of awareness and sleep. The cushions next to me shifted, not much, just enough to snag my attention. Curiosity had me lifting heavy lids.
Sunlight spilled through the French doors and dusted over Kayden as he sprawled out next to me. The soft light played over his angles and contours. His legs were propped on the square coffee table, his head was cradled against the back of the couch, and his eyes were closed. Even at rest, his face was intriguing.
Drifting in an emotional limbo, my fingers twitched for my camera. He was attractive. Not the drop-dead gorgeousness that had panties dropping when he walked into a room, but something else, something intangible.
Even at our initial meet and greet, he drew me in. Maybe it was the way he held himself, or his ability to adeptly handle anything thrown his way. Whatever it was, it snuck under my normal reserve and created cracks in my emotional blockade. He managed to make a place for himself and it wasn’t until after the trial that I realized how deep he got in. Obviously, I underestimated his impact, because that same draw still tugged at me.
Or you’re an emotional train wreck, my inner snark remarked.
Whatever.
Now that he wasn’t trying to smash me into the floor and tell me six impossible things before breakfast, I could appreciate the view. I let my gaze wander unchecked. The blond highlights twisting through the dark, brown strands didn’t come from a bottle, but from actual time spent outside. His nose sported a small bump. Probably broken at some point. It didn’t detract, instead complimented, the strong jaw line highlighted by his gold-streaked goatee.
The spark of heat from earlier made a comeback. Instead of squashing it, I let it burn, mentally shrugging my shoulders. At twenty-eight, the flash bang of sexual attraction no longer knocked me for a loop. I could be female enough to enjoy this moment without indulging. We would return to the horrifically gory reality waiting outside the cabin door soon enough. Besides, I didn’t want to stop my visual study. Too much waited to take its place.
His black T-shirt failed to hide his defined muscles. It stretching across his broad shoulders to lie against his flat abdomen, before tucking into the waistband of his jeans. Almost every marine I ever met had some level of muscle definition—swimmer sleek or no-neck thick. Kayden managed to hit the sweet spot between lean and mean, and weight lifter.
I carried the tactile memory of mapping the sleek muscles under that broad chest. The tattoo I spotted earlier peeked under one sleeve. Dark tribal lines curled around a solid bicep. That was new. His skin held a burnished hint of sun, the color broken by scattered scars, the white marks telling their own stories. His long-fingered hands rested against his stomach, just above where his leather belt wrapped around a narrow waist. Long legs and scuffed desert combat boots completed the picture. No way anyone could mistake him for anything other than a straight-up warrior.
He shifted against the cushions and I my gaze went to his face. He was watching me, the blue of his eyes had lightened to a storm-tossed gray. “I’d tell you take a picture, but you probably would.”
I struggled to keep my blush from rising. It was a losing battle. “My camera’s still packed.”
“I saw some of your pictures in a gallery in San Diego, about a month ago.”
I looked away, knowing which photos he was talking about. The same photos which led to my invite to chase the four-footed wildlife in Alaska.
“They were…”
When he trailed off, I finished, “Brutal?”
“Real.” His correction brought my gaze back to his. “Some I recognized. You took while you were on tour?”
I gave a short nod.
“But the others?”
“Came after.” After my discharge, when being home left me feeling displaced. It hadn’t taken long to pack up my camera and head back where my nightmares roamed.
I hid the truth of my trip from Kelsey, telling her it was a proposed photo shoot for a national magazine. I spent seven long weeks retracing my steps over the shifting sands to those places and faces haunting my nightmares and my darkroom. The ravaged villages, shattered families, and hollow-eyed children may have disappeared, but their ghosts still walked the desert landscapes. The soldiers who tried to save them had paid a heavy price, sometimes too heavy. Someone had to bear witness.
“Why?”
“I had to finish what I started.” My simplistic answer barely scratched the complex surface. Revisiting the past was one of many steps needed to move forward.
“Did you?”
Around the lump in my throat, I pushed out, “Yeah, for now.” There were times when I thought I left the panic, the fear, and the uncertainty of choices I had made behind. Then, when I least expected it, they would sneak up and kick me in the ass.
“So why photography?”
“Safer to shoot a camera than a gun?” My statement switched to a question.
He slowly shook his head without raising it. “No, I’ve seen your records. You’re a natural sharpshooter.”
“Didn’t discover that until I enlisted, but photography…” I turned away and stared at the ceiling before continuing. “I got my first camera right before I started high school, right after Kelsey and I moved in with the Ardens.” At the mention of my family, grief intruded. I kept my attention on the conversation.
“Your foster parents?”
“My parents,” I corrected softly. “Becca and Carl Arden were the only parents I’ve ever had.”
My past rose and it took a second before I could continue. “Carl had a friend, Eric, who would stop by and visit. Every time he came, he had a camera. He would traipse through Oak Canyon, taking picture after picture. I’d sneak out and follow, trying not to be seen.” I smiled at the memory of stalking Eric through the high-desert terrain. “After a couple of weeks, he started handing me the camera, giving me pointers. I was hooked.”
“Your parents didn’t mind you tagging after their friend?”
My grin sharpened at the suspicion in his question. “Eric served under Carl when he first joined the marines. Kept in him one piece, Carl used to say before giving a huff and changing the subject. When I enlisted, Eric said it was his turn to keep Carl’s daughter in one piece.”
Understanding dawned. “Flash?”
I nodded, grateful to Kayden for reminding me of better times. “Yeah, he was a damn good soldier, but he was an ever better artist with his camera. I learned a lot from him.”
“So, you joined the marines because of Carl and Flash?”
I opened my mouth, and then closed it, really thinking about his question. Had I?
Yeah, probably.
The Ardens saved me, taking me in when no one else would, and I wanted to repay their belief in me. Before they came into the picture, I learned early on just how fucked the world could be. Seeing the world through my eyes left me on the brink of insanity. In an effort not to get committed, I kept my mouth shut. Most times. Only once had I broken my silence. Although the final result eventually led me to Kelsey, then the Ardens, the road there was a massive bitch.
My time in school didn’t fare much better, my grades were meh, and friends were non-existent. Through photography, I found a way to watch the world from behind the safety of a lens. The camera allowed me to be part of the crowd and yet still keep my distance. The only time I set the camera down was with Kelsey, Becca, and Carl.
Even with the achingly familiar rapport rising between Kayden and I, old habits die hard. I couldn’t share that with Kayden, not now. Too many broken promises stood between us, so instead, I went with a different answer. “Maybe, a little, but honestly, it was because of the GI Bill. With my grades, scholarships weren’t an option. Serve four years with the marines, and get a free education. At the time, it sounded good.” Needing the spotlight off of me, I turned it around. “How about you? How’d you get into the Corps?”
“Did it on a dare.”
“Seriously?”
“Yep, had a friend who dared me to join. Shocked us both when we both made it through.” At my disbelieving snort, he raised an eyebrow. “What?”
“Never would have pegged you for someone who joined the most intensive military boot camp on a dare.”
“Thought you had me figured out, huh?” he drawled. “Sorry to burst your bubble.” A totally unrepentant grin appeared. “My mom’s a nurse. Retired now. My dad still teaches history at the local college. Grew up pretty standard, small suburb in Southern California. Did the whole outdoor activity circuit; surfing, biking, skating.”
“Yeah, I got that part.” I had even teased him about it at one point.
He continued, “Senior year in high school, my buddy Zach ended up in the hospital after taking a spill on a motorbike. When he got out, he had this bug up his ass about taking life by the horns. Somehow, we both ended up at the recruiter’s office. Then it was off to San Diego.”
“Your parents must have loved that.”
He grimaced. “Mom took longer than Dad to accept it. I’m the first military in my family. I think they were hoping I’d outgrow my rebellious phase.”
Hearing the love and respect as he talked about his family, reminded me of how much family meant to him. A bittersweet emotion rose, but I pushed it back. There was no reason to be jealous of Kayden, that was how family should be.
For a moment, I could feel Becca’s arm around my waist, Carl’s arm resting on my shoulders as Kelsey instructed us to “Smile on three! One…two…three.” as we stood on cracked asphalt under the South Carolina sun after I completed boot camp at Parris Island. Sorrow and anger rose in a rushing wave. I turned away, threw an arm over my eyes, and tried to breathe around the pressure.
“Hey.” Next to me, his weight shifted on the sofa, then a warm hand cupped the side of my face. “You okay?” Kayden’s question was soft.
I forced myself to nod. When I dropped my arm and opened my eyes, I couldn’t get my voice to work.
Kayden’s face filled my field of vision. Concern and something else, something much more tempting, watched me.
I wrapped my fingers around his wrist, to hold him still or to pull him off, I wasn’t sure. The flare of desire from earlier made a comeback, giving me something else to concentrate on. I tried to suck in some air, but he was too close. His uniquely male scent seeped under my skin, leaving trails of disturbing heat in its wake. Nerve endings sparked, and my pulse began a heavy anticipatory beat. Captured by the rising heat and awareness in his gaze, I couldn’t look away.
He leaned forward, and I met him halfway. Our first touch was tentative, as if we were testing the waters. I had forgotten how warm and firm his lips were. The brush of his goatee was a soft tease against my skin, layering my memories with something new. My fingers on his wrist tightened, my other hand curling into his T-shirt, holding him captive.
He brushed his lips across mine. I followed his tantalizing lead. When he gently nipped my bottom lip, I opened on a gasp. As if he had been waiting for the invite, he dove in. With devastating technique, he turned the questing kiss into a firestorm. His mouth taunted and teased, stoking my desire until it burned away the ragged edges of my grief and seared through every nerve ending.
Memories combined with the present, drawing me deeper, until all the reasons I shouldn’t be doing this faded away. Lost in the heat, I answered his every demand. Content to let him lead, I followed every nip, every lick, every stroke until he groaned. The sound spiraled through me, slowing me down.
My hands rose and cupped his face, the contrast between his warm skin and the rasp of his goatee sent shivers cascading through me. I captured his bottom lip in a delicate bite and drew back slightly to watch his eyes darkened and his pupils dilate. I let go, only to soothe the spot with my tongue, before gently tracing the curving outline of his lips. I pulled him closer and sank into his mouth, his taste intoxicating, letting my tongue tease and taunt.
The sound of the electronic door lock being disengaged broke through the sensual spell. “Yo, anyone home?” Tag’s voice rang down the short entry hall.
Kayden covered my hands with his, and pulled back slowly, resting his forehead against mine. Our chests rose and fell in tandem. I closed my eyes as he let go and moved away, leaving the couch to meet Tag. I needed to get my hormones back under control. Dear God, that man could kiss. My hand shook as I ran it over my tender lips.
Kayden was talking to Tag. “Where’s your bag?”
