Navy SEAL Rescuer (17 page)

She’d never paid attention to the details before, but she took
the article, read it carefully. “Maybe the reporter made a mistake, and that’s
why Eileen kept the article. Now that I’m thinking about it, I’m pretty sure the
police report said that he shot himself in the temple.”

“You read the police reports?”

“Yes. When I was in college, but it’s difficult to remember the
details. I’ll ask Logan to send it to me.”

“Mind if I take a look once you get it?” He carefully folded
the article and placed it back in the box, then stood.

“No. I’ll see if he can email it. That’ll speed up the
process.” She followed him to the door.

He was leaving, and that was exactly what she should want, but
she touched his arm, holding him there with that simple gesture.

“You okay?” he asked, his knuckles skimming her cheek.

“Yes.” But she wasn’t. Not really. As much as she wanted to be
alone, she dreaded it. Alone meant time to think about Eileen, about her
parents, about the mysteries that were unfolding.

Too many questions and not enough answers, and someone who
wanted her dead.

Were the past and the present connected?

If so, was Gerald Kensington part of that connection?

“Do you want me to stay up here with you for a while longer?”
Darius asked, and she was so tempted to say yes that the word almost slipped out
of her mouth.

“No. I’m fine.” She let her hand drop from his arm and stepped
into the room.

“We’ll leave early tomorrow and try to get to Kensington’s
place before he goes out for the day. Six o’clock sound okay to you?”

“That’s fine.”

“You keep saying things are fine, but you look like you’re
about to fall apart. You don’t have to pretend with me, Catherine. I understand
heartache, and I know what you’ve been through. If you need me—”

“You can go,” she said too quickly, because she wanted him to
stay and she shouldn’t. Even when she’d been with Peter, she hadn’t needed him
the way she seemed to need Darius. Not with the kind of need that made her feel
hollow and empty and alone.

His face tightened, his lips a hard straight line, but he
turned and walked away without another word.

Catherine closed the door and retreated to the bed. Her stomach
growled, but she didn’t want to go to the kitchen to get something to eat. She
didn’t want to see Darius again, didn’t want to see the disappointment in his
eyes.

He’d offered what she wanted, maybe even what she needed, and
she’d shoved him away.

She’d become good at shoving in the past few years.

Good at pushing away reporters and inmates and guards. Good at
building walls to keep people out, because she hadn’t wanted to be hurt
again.

She was hurting anyway.

Worse, she had hurt someone else. Darius deserved better than
the brush-off she’d given him.

She picked up Eileen’s Bible, thumbing through the well-worn
pages, wishing for the peace she’d had when she was younger, but it was as
elusive as a dream, and all she could find was the hard ache of
disappointment.

SEVENTEEN

“H
ey! Osborne! It’s your shift.” Taryn’s
whispered words seeped into Darius’s dreams, waking him from the first sound
sleep he’d had in days.

His shift?

He glanced at the alarm clock. 2:45 a.m.

Not quite his shift, but he got up anyway, strapping on his
prosthesis and walking out of the room. “You got me up fifteen minutes early,
Taryn,” he growled, and she smirked, her dark blue eyes dancing with amusement.
One of the best security specialists he knew, she had a sweet pretty face that
belied her toughness.

“I figure you’d need some coffee and something to eat before
you got started.”

Both sounded good, and he headed to the kitchen, Taryn close on
his heels. “You were also bored.”

“True. It’s been a quiet night.”

“Just the way I want things.”

“Then let’s hope that’s the way things stay while I catch a
couple of hours of sleep. What time are we heading to the senator’s place?”

“Six.”

“That’s an early start. I’d better grab my catnap.” She left
the room as he poured coffee into a mug. No sugar or cream, just black and
bitter. He sipped the brew, leaning over the computer that sat on the kitchen
table. His boss, Ryder Malone, had purchased the cottage three years ago and
equipped it with exterior security cameras that monitored the house and the
perimeter of the lot. A split-screen computer allowed Darius to monitor all the
cameras with ease, and he studied the images.

Quiet.

Just like Taryn had said.

The house had grown quiet, too.

Darius opened the fridge, grabbed an orange and a slice of
cheese and sat down at the table, his gaze still on the monitor. Motion sensors
would set off an alarm if anyone breached the perimeter of the yard, and there
was no need to sit watching for action, but he watched anyway, glad for the
silence, but almost wishing that Catherine’s attacker would show. A quick easy
resolution to the problem. Take the guy down, assure Catherine’s safety, go on
with his life.

Only, things had changed. What he wanted had changed. Or, maybe
it was the same as it had always been.

There hadn’t been a time when he hadn’t wanted a family. He’d
just given up believing he’d ever have one. After Melody had confessed that
she’d fallen in love with someone else while he was in Afghanistan, he’d been
willing to consider that he might spend the rest of his life living alone.

It wasn’t what he wanted, but he’d made peace with the
idea.

And then Catherine had walked into his life, and everything had
changed. He’d started to imagine sharing his life with someone, started to
believe it was a real possibility. That the connection and relationship and love
he’d spent years hoping for could happen.

Only problem was, Catherine didn’t seem to feel the same.

A floorboard creaked above his head and feet padded across the
floor. Taryn? Catherine?

He cocked his head, listening. A door opened. Closed. Footsteps
sounded on the stairs, soft and light...almost tentative.

Catherine.

He was sure of it, but his heart still jumped when she walked
into the room, her red hair mussed, her eyes shadowed.

“You’re up early,” he said.

“My stomach woke me.”

“Hungry?”

“Starving.”

“I’ll make you an omelet.”

“How about I make you one?” she responded, opening the fridge
and pulling out a carton of eggs. She’d changed out of her dress and into fitted
black pants and a blue shirt. They hugged her curves perfectly, showcasing her
thin waist and long legs. Distracting, but not so distracting that Darius didn’t
notice the tear tracks on her cheeks.

“You’ve been crying.” He covered her hand, stopping her before
she could open the egg carton.

“I was dreaming about Eileen. We were making her favorite
pumpkin pie together. I woke up thinking that maybe her death had just been a
horrible nightmare, but then I realized where I was, and I realized she’s really
gone.” Her voice broke, and Darius wrapped her in his arms. She fit perfectly
there, her head nestled against his chest.

“Eventually, it won’t hurt so much.” He smoothed her hair, his
palm resting on her nape, the warmth of her skin seeping through his pores and
heating him from the inside out.

“I know.” Her hands slid around his waist and rested on his
back. He figured he could stay there forever, holding her, inhaling the sweet
berry scent of her shampoo, running his fingers over her soft hair.

But they had a meeting to attend, and he stepped back, looked
into her face. Beautiful and exhausted.

He touched her jaw, traced the hollow beneath her cheekbone.
“You still look tired. Did you sleep at all?”

“Plenty. If not for my growling stomach, I’d probably still be
sleeping. How about you?” She moved away, and he let her, because leaning in and
tasting her lips again was not a good idea.

“I slept like a log until Taryn woke me for my shift.”

“I thought you were up a little early for our trip,” she
responded, opening the carton of eggs.

“We won’t leave for a couple more hours.” He took a bowl from
the cupboard and handed it to her, catching a whiff of berries and cream as she
cracked eggs into it.

He should probably back off and give her some space, but this
was something he’d always wanted. This feeling of working together, of normalcy.
Even in the safe house, even with the waves crashing outside and the ocean
breeze seeping through cracks in the windowsill, even knowing that there was
nothing normal about their situation, with Catherine he felt like he was
home.

The thought shook him.

What he’d always wanted. Right there for the taking, but there
were a dozen reasons why he couldn’t.

The first being Catherine.

Her needs superseded anything else, and she needed to move at
her own pace, decide what she wanted from him in her own time.

He watched her for a moment, wondering if it would be possible
to walk away if she asked him to.

* * *

Catherine whisked the golden eggs to within an inch of
their lives, afraid that if she moved back or sideways, shifted just a little,
she’d bump into Darius.

He stood so close she could feel his heat through her T-shirt.
So close, she could smell soap and masculinity. Close enough that all it would
take was a turn of the head and...

She stopped short of the thought, not happy with the direction
her thoughts were taking.

She couldn’t deny her attraction to Darius, but she could
control it.

She poured the eggs into a pan and stirred them haphazardly,
not caring much about the outcome. She needed to eat, but what she wanted to do
was walk outside and let the ocean breeze cool her heated cheeks.

“I’m sure that whatever they did, they didn’t mean it,” Darius
said wryly as Catherine dumped eggs onto two plates and set them on the
table.

“What?” she asked, rifling through the drawers until she found
forks.

“The eggs. First you beat them, then you dumped them. I figure
they must have offended you.” He put buttered toast next to the eggs on her
plate, neatly and calmly, because that’s the way Darius seemed to do everything.
Organized. Efficient. Calm.

Why couldn’t he have been ugly as a toad and mean as a
hornet?

It would have been so much easier to resist him.

“I guess I’m a little anxious about today,” she said,
truthfully. She didn’t add that being near Darius made her wonder if everything
she’d thought about her future had been wrong. Made her question the decision
she’d made to live her life alone.

No men.

No complications.

No way to be hurt again.

Once was enough, because she didn’t think she could survive it
if Darius betrayed her the way Peter had.

“About meeting Kensington, you mean?”

“About what I’m going to find out from him. What if you were
right? What if he and my mother were together, and I’m related to him? What if
he’s...”

“Your father?”

“Yes.”

“It won’t change who you are.”

“I know, but it will change what I can do. I planned to pack up
and leave when we got back to Pine Bluff. I wanted a fresh start. Nothing to
connect me to the past. If he’s my father, then I’ll have no choice but to get
to know him and his family.”

“We always have choices, Catherine.”

“Not when it comes to family. They are what they are.”

“You’ve got a point, there. But, even family doesn’t have to
hold us. My father tried to be part of my life when I came home from
Afghanistan. He saw an article in the newspaper about my injuries and my return,
and he decided it was time to have the relationship we hadn’t had when I was a
kid.”

“What happened?”

“He was still the same guy who’d walked out on me and my mom
when I was a baby. A drunk. A drug addict. Maybe, he really wanted to have a
relationship. Maybe he just wanted to share what he thought was my limelight. I
still don’t know, and I don’t care. After a couple of months of him showing up
drunk at my apartment, I told him he had to get clean or get another place to
stay. He found another place. That was the last time I saw him.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m not. I made peace with it years ago. The thing is, I could
have let him stick around, tried to build something that wasn’t there, but that
would have added to the struggles I was having during my recovery. In my mind,
it wasn’t worth it.”

“Do you regret telling him to leave?” She couldn’t imagine
doing the same, but then, she’d spent her childhood wishing her parents were
alive.

If she found out Kensington was her father, would she be able
to walk away from it?

She didn’t know, but she had to find out.

She was certain that Eileen had known how she would feel,
because Eileen had known
her.
All those moments
spent, memories built, and now they were part of the past.

“You’re thinking about Eileen again, aren’t you?” Darius asked,
squeezing her hand.

“She’s the only family I’ve ever really known. It’s hard to let
that connection go.” She washed her plate and set it in the drainer, staring out
the window above the sink. A sandy bluff sloped up toward the indigo sky. If she
climbed to the top of it, she could look out over the ocean, watch as the dark
horizon slowly lightened.

If she was fortunate, would her life be the same? Darkness
eventually flooded by light.

“Want to go for a walk before we leave?” Darius asked, and she
wondered if he could sense how desperate she was for fresh air. As if that air
could clear her mind and clarify her thinking, help the world make sense
again.

“We can do that?” she asked, and he smiled.

“We can do whatever we want. As long as we’re careful. I’ve
been watching the monitor for an hour. There’s no one around, and we have no
reason to believe we were followed by anyone. As long as you haven’t told anyone
you’re here—”

“Who would I tell?”

“Peter?”

She laughed. “He’s the last person on earth I’d tell.”

“That bad of a breakup, huh?”

“You could say that.”

“I’d rather hear what you have to say. Come on.” He grabbed his
jacket from a small closet near the front door and wrapped it around her
shoulders.

“I can’t take your jacket. I’ll go up and get one from the
room.”

“You’re not taking my jacket. I’m giving it.”

“But—”

“For once, just go with the flow, Catherine.”

Go with the flow?

Had she ever done that?

Even before she’d gone to prison, she’d made careful plans,
kept lists, checked things off.

High school education? Check.

Job? Check.

Nursing degree? Check.

Marriage and children had been next. All planned out and easy
to imagine. Only, the plans had come to nothing. Her hard work, her
determination, had brought her nowhere.

Darius opened the door, and she followed him outside, the cool
ocean breeze bathing her cheeks with moisture that felt like a thousand tears.
All her life, she’d tried to be strong. All her life, she’d fought to be the
person she thought she should be. All her life, she’d counted on her strength
and power to get her what she wanted. It hadn’t been enough. Could never be
enough.

Waves pounded against the shore, the heaving crash of water
against rock drowning out everything. The beauty of it beguiled, the starkness
of the dark horizon against the lightening day filling Catherine’s senses. She
inhaled the salty spray, exhaled the hard knot of sadness, let herself feel the
moment, and in it she felt something else.

Renewal.

Strength.

As if God were there, whispering,
This is
what I have created. This is what I can do. Let Me do what I can with
you.

And she wanted to, because nothing she had done herself had
ever been enough.

She closed her eyes, lifted her face up to the darkness, giving
herself over to the faith she had denied for too many years.

“Catherine?” Darius asked, touching her arm, and she opened her
eyes, looked into his, her breath catching.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

“Magnificent.” He smiled into her eyes, his black hair ruffled
by the wind, his stance strong. It couldn’t be easy for him to walk across the
sand, but he’d done it without complaint. Done it with grace and ease the same
way he did so many things.

So are you,
her heart whispered,
but she wouldn’t speak the words.

“So, tell me about Peter.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Who he was to you?”

“My boyfriend for three years. My fiancé for five months.”
The first and last man to break my heart.
“I’m
sure you’ve heard the stories. He was a star witness for the state at my trial.
Said that my compassion and love for my patients had probably tipped me over the
edge and made me into a mercy killer.”