Betrayals (Black Cipher Files series Book 2) (37 page)

But I knew. Underneath that serene, calm exterior he seethed with pent up emotion. His father’s legacy of deceit and betrayal continued to grow. The more I learned about Senator Jordan, the more I despised him.

I couldn’t imagine Jordan’s feelings. I wanted to reach out, stroke his shoulder, offer him comfort in some small measurable gesture.

But his face forbade any discussion or acknowledgment of the blow Carson had just dealt.

“Could the senator be after me because I’d been researching 5491?”

“Negative. He might have given the kill order but he doesn’t know anything about Department 5491.”

“Anyone else?” I asked.

“I did some quiet inquiries,” Carson started slowly. “I told the CIA weeks ago I didn’t believe that was you in the prison photos. They were disinclined to listen.”

“They wanted me dead?”

“I don’t know.” Carson hesitated. “They blocked certain information even from us. Usually we can access Intelink and get updates on unfolding situations, but any information about you was above my security level.”

Above Carson’s level? He was Director of Field Operations for the NSA. A division so secret many people didn’t even know the NSA had field operations. His mere existence was highly classified.

“Why?”

“Best guess, they’re trolling for a reaction from someone,” Carson said. “They’ve got continuous surveillance on your place in Alexandria.”

“Someone trashed my Bahamas house.”

“I don’t believe it was the CIA. Not their style,” Carson said.

He was right.

“We came here to ask for help. I need to set up a meet with the Senator to find out why he was in that press conference.” No sense of the rage boiling inside of Jordan was evident. “We think he may have answers.”

“Is that wise?”

“It’s necessary.” Jordan’s voice was low, controlled. “I need to strike now.”

I? No way in hell was he going alone.

“We.” I amended. “We need to set up a meeting.”

“I don’t want you anywhere near him.” Jordan sat down next to me on the sofa.

I asked Carson curiously, “How well do you know him?”

“We’ve had a working association for the past fifteen years.” Carson didn’t like him. Nothing in his voice gave him away, but the distaste for Senator Jordan came through loud and clear. “I can set up a meeting with your father.”

Silence.

Apparently more people than Jordan realized knew about Jordan's parentage. I placed my hand over Jordan’s and linked our fingers.

“Sperm donor,” Jordan responded tightly. “He is nothing but a means to clear Staci.”

He would never be like his own father. I could hear him as clearly as if he’d spoken.

Our baby.

Without thought I put my hand to my belly and gazed at Jordan.

I could feel the tiny pulse of blood through my fingertips, resting on the bump I’d tried to ignore ever since Thea told me why I couldn’t keep down food.

A baby.

Emotion so tender, so breathtaking unfurled slowly inside of me.

Carson looked at my hand on my stomach, Jordan’s fingers meshed with mine, and the protective way we both curled in slightly. “You’re pregnant?”

I couldn’t miss the surprise on his face.

Jordan gazed into my eyes. We were both cammied up, he had twigs in his hair, and black and green camouflage paint smeared over his face, his beautiful hazel eyes almost invisible.

One hand rested on my stomach, the other still held his Glock carefully pointed at the floor.

We would certainly be non-traditional.

“Congratulations,” Carson said, appearing to be genuinely happy.

A swell of pure joy spread through me. “We’re going to be parents.” Nothing and no-one was going to hurt my family. Not if I had anything to say about it.

Pictures freeze-framed through my head. Katerina vowing to protect her son. Susan Chen running away to protect her daughter. Fariya protecting future generations as she’d failed to protect her own children. Suddenly, without a doubt, I understood why.

Their child was far more important to them than anything else...including their own survival.

And I knew what I had to do.

***

They planned the op.

Sitting at the round game table, Jordan solidified details with Carson and Staci. Antoinette Black had gone to bed after fussing over Staci for half an hour or so.

All they had to do now was wait.

They would wait until the senator would be home for the night, wait until the meeting area would be empty, wait until the last minute to schedule the meeting--so there was no time for the senator to arrange for backup.

“What about backup for us?” Staci wasn’t convinced the senator was harmless.

Us? He didn’t want her anywhere near the bastard. And told her so.

“You’re crazy if you think I’ll let you go in alone,” she said, flexing then fisting her fingers.

His mouth settled into a grim line. He needed to know what his father had done and why. And he needed to make sure Staci and the baby were protected.

Jordan laced his fingers with Staci’s. For the first time since he’d found her in New York, he felt as if they connected. In the same way as when they’d first met, when from across the room the intensity of their attraction had sizzled.

“I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I know you’re worried about the baby.”

“
You
. I don’t want
you
to get hurt.”

As much as he agreed backup would be nice, he didn’t think it was an option.

“Back up is necessary.” Carson frowned. “Jamie and Lucas are in Seattle.”

Jordan wondered which part he didn’t like, Jamie and Lucas together or the fact that they were in Seattle going after Susan Chen.

“Zeke?” Staci asked.

Good thought. Even though the guy wasn’t too fond of Staci, he’d be better than nothing. Hopefully he hadn’t left town yet.

Carson’s eyebrows rose. “You know Ezekiel?”

Uh...hopefully that wasn’t a bad thing. For Zeke or Staci.

“We’ve met.” Staci handed Jordan her cell. “Call him.”

“Won’t work in here,” Carson said calmly. “It’s shielded.”

Carson picked up a landline and gave the phone to Jordan.

“Go ahead.”

Technically Zeke was suspended, but this wasn’t official NSA business, right?

Jordan dialed and listened to the ring tone, Jay Z and Linkin Park rocked the phone lines with Numb/Encore.

Zeke finally picked up. “Carson?”

“Hey, it’s Jordan.”

There was a pause as Zeke assimilated that Jordan was calling from Carson’s home.

“Dude, how’s it hanging?” His tone was light, but Jordan had gotten to know Zeke well enough to hear the underlying concern in his irreverent question.

“We’re all fine.” We. Just so Zeke knew he and Staci were still together. “We’re about to take a meeting with the Senator and thought maybe you’d like to join in.”

Jordan tried to keep the conversation as generic as possible since Zeke was on a cell which was not secure.

“I’d freaking love to, except I’m stuck in Nowheresville, California, doing a worthless surveillance detail on Granola Girl.”

Jordan winced. Either Zeke didn’t care or hadn’t realized giving out details was a mistake.

“Uh, not secure.”

“Shit. You’re right.” Zeke huffed. “I should not be here. I am not cut out for this. And nothing is happening.”

“So you’re out of the area.”

“Yeah. Sorry.” Zeke was silent again. “I’m no help.”

The disgust in his voice bothered Jordan. “There’s a reason you’re there. Maybe it just isn’t apparent yet.”

“My, my, when did we become so philosophical?” Zeke mocked, then relented. “Never mind. Ignore me. I’m feeling sorry for myself. Again.”

Jamie had sent Zeke there because of a hunch that Sunshine was in danger. “Do you think she’s wrong?”

“Yes. Nothing happens here.” Through the phone lines, the ocean crashed against the shoreline sweeping away some of Zeke’s words. “No. Maybe. I don’t know. I’ve got a weird vibe, but everything appears fine.”

“Eyes open,” Jordan said.

“You know it.” Zeke paused again, then asked softly, “You got any backup?”

“Not exactly.”

“Take Carson,” Zeke recommended. “He’s tougher than he looks.”

Jordan hadn’t even considered using Carson Black, but as Zeke’s idea settled in, he realized the advice was perfect.

“Great idea. Thanks.” Jordan signed off quickly. “Take care of yourself, pal.”

“Keep safe,” Zeke said softly.

Jordan carefully pressed the off button. “He suggested I take you.”

Assuming Carson would agree, the idea was brilliant. Jordan was expendable. Life would actually be easier for the senator if Jordan was out of the picture. But the senator wouldn’t and couldn’t harm Carson. Not without serious repercussions.

Jesus, Zeke was smart.

“Excellent idea.” Carson brushed an imaginary piece of lint off his wool pants. “Of course I’ll go.”

Suspicion fluttered in the back of Jordan’s mind. He got the feeling they had just been maneuvered.

More was going on here than just saving Staci’s life. Before they ever requested Carson's help, they should have factored in that he would have his own agenda.

Staci yawned, the muscles in her jaw stretching wide.

“Why not get some sleep before we go?” Carson offered the guest room.

They were safe here. This house was a fortress. They had almost three hours before they needed to leave for D.C. A quick combat nap would refresh him. Maybe Jordan could even get Staci to fall asleep. Then leaving her here would be a non-argument, and he could just sneak out.

“You aren’t leaving without me,” Staci said firmly.

“Sleep sounds good. Maybe a shower.” Jordan’s nose itched, but he didn’t want to rub any of the camo paint onto his hands.

Staci groaned. “A shower sounds heavenly.”

Carson showed them to a guest room, grabbed a stack of pristine white towels from the closet. He looked them over, and smiled. “Don’t worry about getting the towels dirty. We’ve got bleach.”

With that non sequitur, he looked at his watch. “Two and a half hours. I’ll be in the kitchen, if you need anything.”

Jordan closed the door. They were alone. He felt he and Staci had come to a tentative understanding, some place where they were in accordance with each other, and with the baby.

Maybe they weren't in agreement about confronting the senator, but two out of three was pretty good.

Jesus, what a crazy two days.

Jordan tugged gently, and Staci came into his arms without resistance. He rested his cheek against her forehead, wrapped his arms around her too thin body, and pulled her tight against his chest.

She was still cold. The heat from his body would warm her. And the comfort from their embrace would warm him. Win-win.

Staci sighed and melted into his arms. Her breasts pillowed against his chest, and the hard points of her nipples rubbed against his pectorals.

Suddenly, his body flared into an inferno. Great. One platonic embrace and his hormones acted like a hound dog in heat.

“You want first dibs on the shower?” His voice came out husky and soft.

She sighed again, squeezed his waist, and let go. “You go on ahead.”

“Yeah.” If he got away from her, he could get his randy body under control with a really cold shower.

FORTY-THREE

I watched Jordan hustle into the bathroom. My former lover, lover, father of my baby, whatever, was running away. Away from me? Or away from the churning feelings and emotions that ran underneath every interaction we had?

Wrapped in the protective embrace of his arms, I’d finally felt as if I’d come home. As if I could rest my weary body along the rock of his and we could just...be. Our connection, our bond had strengthened challenge by challenge. But could we withstand what was coming?

I listened to the roar of the water and snuck out to the kitchen where I knew Carson would be waiting for me.

My request took less than a minute.

“Are you sure?” Carson asked.

“It’s the only way to be free.”

He nodded. “Okay.”

I snuck back into the guest room, reviewing our relationship, the ups and downs, our time together...and gave thanks Jordan was still here, still with me. What a miracle.

Still by my side.

Still primed to fight for me, for us, for the baby.

Could I be sure that all of that fight wasn’t strictly for the baby?

No.

On the other hand, I didn’t see anyone else around. Anyone else believing in me, believing in my innocence.

Suddenly I wasn’t willing to let that miracle slip away.

I had a limited window to let him know how much his support meant to me, how much he meant to me.

Glancing in the mirror, I looked at the train wreck of my reflection. I was too thin, too brittle. But Jordan didn’t care. That was the truth, the beauty of his affection for me.

Somehow he didn’t see me as I did. Instead he saw through to the warrior that lived beneath my fragile skin, to the woman who refused to give up and refused to give in.

I shoved open the louvered doors to the guest bathroom.

The noise startled Jordan, and he turned defensively, his face almost clear of the paint.

“Sorry.”

“Everything okay?” He stopped, completely oblivious to his nudity, and completely focused on me.

“Fine.” Water sluiced over his sculpted muscles, rolling down his shoulders, pecs, and six-pack, with an ease I envied.

How weird was that...to envy water?

I stared at him, unable to vocalize all the thoughts jumbling in my mind, emotions tumbling through my body.

 He just stood there, staring at me, wanting me to leave...or wanting me to come closer?

I didn’t know.

There was only one thing left to do. I pulled the soft cotton camouflage shirt over my head. Unbelting the pants, I let them slide off my hips to puddle around my ankles, then stepped out of the pile. Reaching around, I unhooked my bra and let the serviceable white cotton drop to the floor.

His gaze dropped to my pert nipples, and my breasts full, heavy, and so sensitive from the pregnancy hormones just the lick of his regard flushed my body rosy.