Trusting His Instincts, page 12
“No one’s ever tried…” Her eyes shine, a single tear threatening to spill over. “But even if they had, I would have stopped them. I ain’t good at this.”
“At what?”
She shrugs into my flannel, then finds her panties. “Bein’ with someone. Trustin’…anyone.”
We’re the same. More than I thought—definitely more than I want to admit—but maybe that’s why we found each other. If only that were enough to keep us together.
Her phone buzzes twice, pulling a sigh from her lips. “There’s a whole lot we need to talk about, but doin’ it naked...ain’t a good idea.” She tosses my jeans at me, then levels me with a hard stare. “I’ll put on a pot of coffee. Don’t leave.”
Without waiting for a reply, she gathers up the rest of her clothes and stalks into the kitchen.
Kiki watches at me from the couch as I tug on my pants. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you tried to trip me.” The cat meows once before he rests his head on his paws and starts to purr. “Thanks,” I add. “Make sure you watch out for her, okay?”
I don’t expect an answer. I definitely don’t expect him to jump down and pad into the kitchen. Raelynn starts talking to him, her voice softer and a little higher pitched than usual. I’m glad she won’t be alone anymore. Even if I do wish I were the one moving in.
Warm air flows from the ornate vent on the wall. A few seconds later, Raelynn’s startled, “Holy shit! You…fixed it?” makes me grin.
“What else was I supposed to do while I waited for you?” I take the mug she hands me and wait for her to sink down onto the sofa before I grab a seat next to her.
Her smile fades, and she stares into her cup. “Nash? Or…should I start callin’ you Nathan?”
My mug wobbles as I take a sip, and hot coffee burns my tongue. After I choke it down, I swallow the lump in my throat. “Nathan died a long time ago. Even if I could bring him back, I don’t know that I’d want to.”
“Why did…he…die?”
“It’s better if you don’t know.” We’re swimming in dangerous waters with this conversation. Any hope she’d let me have my secrets dies when she sets her coffee cup down hard enough the table rattles.
“We are not doin’ this again. You don’t need to protect me, Nash. Not when I’m tryin’ to protect you!” The fire in her eyes would be enough to convince me she could—if I didn’t know just how ruthless the DeLuca family could be.
“You can’t. No one can.”
Raelynn jerks to her feet and holds out her hand. “Come with me.”
“Where?” I don’t know why I’m asking. My fingers are already linked with hers, and I let her lead me up the stairs to her bedroom. “Not that I mind another round, but—”
“We ain’t here so you can hang your hat on the door.” She sweeps a handful of dresses and shirts to the side of her closet, then presses on the dark wood wall. It pops open to reveal a space big enough for a person to hide in. And…is that metal lining the panel?
I didn’t even think to come up here while I waited for her. Though if I had, I might have taken off for Idaho immediately.
“When I told you about this earlier, you asked who the hell I was. I’ve been tryin’ to tell you ever since.” Moving the clothes to the other side of the closet, she presses a finger to the lock on a five-foot-tall safe. Inside are two large black bags, half a dozen pistols, four rifles, and several stacks of cash.
“Holy shit.”
A few wisps of hair have escaped her braid, and she tucks them behind her ear as she locks the safe and starts to pace. “Protectin’ people is my job, Nash. I don’t work for West at the dojo. I work with him—and a whole mess of other folks—doin’ K&R.”
“I should know what that means…”
“Kidnap and ransom. We save people. From some of the worst som’bitches in the world. The guy who brought us all together, Ryker, is retired Special Forces. Same with Ripper. West and Wyatt were SEALs. Inara and Tank were Army Rangers. Graham did a stint in the Coast Guard. Wren’s the best hacker in the world. And that’s only the team we have in Seattle.
“I can protect you, Nash. It don’t matter if you’re runnin’ from one man or a whole country’s goddamn government. I’ll keep you safe.”
Chapter Fifteen
Raelynn
While the cat devours his first indoor meal, I pull a cube steak out of the fridge. After I told Nash what I do for a living, he only asked one question.
“Do all of those people—the ones you work with—know about me?”
My answer—yes—wasn’t what he wanted to hear. He said he needed space, so for the past two hours, he’s been down in the basement, putting my electrical panel back together.
Ryker’s number flashes across my phone screen, and I pop in one of my earbuds. “Yeah?”
“Tank is set up at a hotel two miles away. He and Graham will take shifts watching the traffic cameras in your area. If your security system goes off, they can be there in under five minutes. West and Inara are staying at Nash’s place tonight in case the shooter comes back. You got anything new?”
I angle a glance into the living room—at the basement door. “He’s scared, Ry. If I push him too hard, he’ll run.”
“So that’s a no.”
“It’s a maybe.” Pulling out the flour, seasoned salt, and pepper, I try to decide how much to tell him. “Wren was right. He wasn’t born Nash Grace.” Ryker’s silent long enough, I finish beating the eggs before I crack. “No. I don’t have his real name.”
“When this is all over, you’re getting a refresher course on interrogation. From Trevor.”
I cringe. The former CIA assassin is one of the only men in the world scarier than West and Ryker. Last week, I would have cussed Ry a blue streak for implying I’m not doing my job. But instead, I ask, “Do you trust me?”
He doesn’t hesitate. “Yes.”
“Then give me until tomorrow. He’ll talk to me. But it has to be his choice. When he’s ready.”
Ry grumbles something unintelligible, then sighs. “I’ll check in at oh-eight-hundred. But if you don’t have anything by then, I’m paying you a visit. With both the SEALs.”
He hangs up before I can say another word. “Well, that went well.”
“What has to be my choice?” Nash asks. I drop the large piece of steak, and it hits the counter with a splat.
“Shee-it. I didn’t hear you come in.” I nod at the fridge. “Lettuce, tomatoes, cucumbers, and ranch dressing. Take care of the salad, will ya’?”
“Answer my question first.”
“That was my boss.” I fiddle with the knob on my ancient stove until the flame catches, then slide the cast iron skillet onto the burner. “He asked for an update. I didn’t give him one. Not one he wanted, anyway.”
Nash stares at me for a beat, then moves to the fridge. “So my name…?”
“I’m walkin’ a very narrow line, Nash. The folks I work with are a family. One I didn’t ask for. But they all dropped everythin’ to help me—and you—today. I didn’t ask them. I didn’t have to. Until you give me the okay, what you told me stays between us. But we can help you. If you let us.”
I finish dredging the steak and wipe my hands. Nash doesn’t say another word as he washes the lettuce and cuts the vegetables.
“Bring all that to the table. I got beer and Dr. Pepper. Help yourself to whatever you want. The gravy takes ten minutes.”
He twists the cap off a bottle of Shiner Bock and leans against the wall, watching me recreate another of my mama’s recipes. “Nathan Rossi. Son of Angelo and Stella Rossi.”
“That name supposed to mean somethin’ to me?” I steal a sip of his beer and pull the steak from the pan.
“Twenty years ago, the Rossi family controlled more than fifty percent of all illegal gambling in Chicago.”
I whistle. “Organized crime. So the car accident…was a mob hit.”
“There was no car accident,” he says, shaking his head. “That was a cover story. My family was murdered.”
Nash
She doesn’t push. Doesn’t demand I tell her everything. Just ladles thick gravy over the chicken-fried steak and carries the plates to the table. “Grab me a Dr. Pepper, will you?”
This isn’t how I imagined the conversation would go. “You’re not surprised.”
“Darlin’, there ain’t nothin’ in this world that surprises me anymore. Not since I joined Hidden Agenda.”
I cut into the steak, unsure how to process the past twelve hours. I haven’t thought about food all day, but I’m suddenly ravenous. “Nothing?”
“My first mission, we had to go rescue Graham’s boyfriend. His ex kidnapped him, drove him to Utah, locked him in a basement, and kept him drugged out of his mind for two full days, all to steal his company. A few months later, a French cartel ordered a hit on one of their former members. She had enough evidence to put the leaders away for a dozen lifetimes, but they got to her first. Tortured her for more than twenty-four hours. We stopped them.”
“Stopped them?”
Raelynn pauses, a piece of steak halfway to her mouth. “Yes. They made their choice.”
Shit. She killed them.
Uncertainty tightens her expression. “What we do—what I do—is dangerous. We go up against the worst of humanity, and sometimes, people end up dead. If you can’t be with me knowin’ that, I’ll understand…”
Leaning across the corner of the table, I cup the back of her neck and brush my lips to hers. It’s barely a kiss. The briefest of touches. But when I sink down again, some of the worry has faded from her eyes.
“My father was the oldest son. He had a younger brother who was all in with the family. But Dad…he didn’t want anything to do with it.”
“How well did that go over?” she asks.
I take a long pull on my beer. “Better than you’d expect. My mom was pregnant with me, and my grandfather just…agreed. Dad went into real estate and until I was twelve, everything was great.”
Raelynn’s tongue darts out, swiping a drop of gravy from her lips, and for a moment, I forget all about the danger I’m in. “What happened then?”
“I don’t know all the details. But a member of the United States Marshal’s Service showed up at our house in the middle of the night, and suddenly, we weren’t the Rossis anymore. Two days later, we moved into a house in Minnesota with new names, new schools for me and Mae, and a whole new life.”
Peeling the label from my beer bottle, I shake my head. “Mae hated every minute of it. She was too young to understand. Hell, we both were. But Dad told me a little about the family ‘business’ when I started acting out at school. He said he needed me to understand we couldn’t go back. Things had just started getting better when…”
Raelynn reaches for my hand. I twine our fingers, holding on tight. If only her touch could keep the nightmares away. Or stop the DeLucas from coming after me.
“Mae started having night terrors after we left home. When they got bad, she’d come into my room and ask me to tell her a story. I heard her cry—just for a second—and got up, but she’d left Bandit on the floor, and I stepped on him.”
“Bandit?”
My backpack sits on a chair a few feet away. I don’t know why showing Raelynn the old stuffed animal is suddenly so important. Maybe it’s a way to delay the inevitable. Or maybe I need her to know what the little guy means to me.
Gently, I pluck the sloth from his special pocket. “This is Bandit. He’s…all I have left. I never go anywhere without him. It’s stupid. But…”
Raelynn’s face shimmers as my tears threaten.
“I slipped on him. There was this shadow, and then my head hurt so much. Mom screamed, and Dad…he was begging for our lives, but…” My fingers brush over the thick scar at my temple. “Two bullets. I was lucky.” The word tastes bitter on my tongue. “The shooter thought I’d died. Dad’s handler found me—found all of us, he said—and didn’t tell anyone I was alive. I woke up in the hospital three days later.”
Raelynn scoots her chair close enough she can wrap her arms around me. It’s too much. I don’t deserve her comfort. Not with Mae’s cry echoing in my memories.
“I wish I’d died with them.”
“Nash...” She rubs circles over my back, Bandit squished between us. “You have to know they wouldn’t have wanted that.”
I jerk away, knocking my chair over with a loud crack. Bandit tumbles to the ground, but Raelynn rescues him and cradles him to her chest. “What about what I wanted? Dad’s handler was so worried the DeLucas would come after me, he didn’t put me back into the program. Instead, he convinced his old partner to adopt me. To run. And to keep running for the next twenty years. That’s who Nash Grace is. A figment of someone’s imagination. With a fake social security number and a perfect backstory, but no friends. No family. No home. Nothing that makes life worth living.”
Raelynn rises and presses the stuffed animal back into my hands. “You have this. And you have me.”
“Not if the DeLucas have anything to say about it.”
“Did you miss the part where I’m gonna help you?” she asks. “Because I thought I was pretty damn clear about that.”
“This is the mob!”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” She pulls out her phone, fingers flying over the screen for half a minute before she offers me the device. “This is Hidden Agenda.”
Venezuelan President Manuel Farias Ousted in Overnight Coup. Infamous Prison La Crypta Emptied and Destroyed.
The news story is vaguely familiar. I’d been living in New Mexico when it happened. One of the guys I hung out with at the local Home Supply Emporium had grown up in Venezuela, and he’d told me how bad the former president had been for his country.
“This…?”
“Happened about eight months before I joined.” She purses her lips and swallows hard. “Right before Brooks…died. It was Ryker, Austin—he’s got his own group of badasses now—Ronan, out of Boston, Dani, Graham, and Leo. Along with Wren and Ripper workin’ from here.”
“You took down the government of Venezuela.”
She offers me a grim smile. “Damn straight. You ain’t alone, Nash. And you don’t have to run ever again. You just have to trust me. And my…shit. My family.”
Raelynn
Tucked against Nash’s side with Kiki stretched out over our legs, I feign interest in the movie he chose—some horror flick about a robot doll who goes on a killing spree—so I can play our earlier conversation back in my head to get the details straight.
He doesn’t have any idea how the DeLuca family could have found him. He’s been careful his whole life, and there’s nothing tying Nash Grace to Nathan Rossi—at least nothing he knows about.
If there is, Wren will find it. I texted Ryker an hour ago and told him we’d be at the warehouse by 9:00 a.m. so Nash can meet the rest of Hidden Agenda.
Unless he sneaks out of the house in the middle of the night.
Nash twirls the end of my braid around his finger while, on screen, the cute little robot with the human face decapitates the babysitter. “Sweet Jesus.”
He chuckles, presses a kiss to the top of my head, and pulls me closer. “Not a horror fan?”
“Give me the first Halloween movie any time,” I whisper. “This…is somethin’ else.”
Pausing the film, he shifts so he can meet my gaze. “It’s been so long since I’ve had this.”
“What?”
Longing creeps into his voice, the emotion so strong, I can feel it. “Someone to sit with. To watch a movie with. In a place that felt like…a home. Not since I was a kid.”
He’s about to break, and if I’m honest, so am I. Kiki meows when I ease him onto the cushion next to me so I can wrap my arms around this man I’m falling for.
“You can have it here,” I whisper.
He holds onto me like I’m his whole world. “I called Duncan. My dad’s handler. I didn’t know what else to do. He’ll be here tomorrow. But…he’ll tell me to leave. I know he will.”
Tears prick at my eyes. “You don’t have to. We can keep you safe.”
“Raelynn…”
“No,” I say sharply, pulling back to glare at him. “Don’t give me that self-sacrificing bullshit. You get to decide what happens with the rest of your life. Not the DeLucas, not this Duncan idjit, not even me. So what do you want?”
He’s silent for the longest time, and I can’t breathe until he squeezes my hands. “To see where this goes.”
It takes a full minute for the lump in my throat to fade away. “Me too. When Brooks…died—and I couldn’t save him—I decided bein’ alone was for the best. I was wrong.”
“Tell me about him. Please?” There’s no pity in his eyes. No judgment. He truly wants to know about my life…before. Steeling myself for the painful memories, I think about the man I fell in love with at seventeen. To my shock, my heart doesn’t feel like it’s about to crack in two. Instead, a warmth blooms in my chest, spreading through my limbs. We lived a lifetime in twenty-two years, but he’s my past. And my future—Nash—is right next to me.
“Brooks and I started datin’ in high school. He asked me to marry him on our graduation day.” I smile at the memory. “Got down on one knee and everythin’. I was hell bent on goin’ to the Air Force Academy, but he’d torn his ACL twice playin’ football and couldn’t pass the medical exam. We had a quickie ceremony the day before I left and he went to work on his daddy’s cattle ranch. Every chance I got, I came home to Texas to be with him.”
“How long did you serve?” Nash settles against the cushions, but his eyes never leave mine.
“Ten years. I missed him too damn much to stay in another day longer. By then, he’d taken over the ranch, so we ran it together. We were happy—doin’ what we loved every day, even tried to start a family.”
“You wanted kids…?”
With a nod, I snuggle back against his side. “A whole mess of them. But we both had some…issues…and cattle ranchin’ ain’t a rich man’s game. IVF was too expensive, so we made our peace with it bein’ just the two of us.”
