Breach: The Boxset (74 page)

“So, do I get some special cream for my coffee today?” My attempt at banter sounded like I was trying too hard to my own ears, but his lip twitched. It may have been a poor go, but it did its job of giving levity to the air around us.

“I’m sure we could arrange that.” His arm wrapped around me, holding me close as we walked.

He tried not to be obvious, but I caught his gaze moving around, looking for them. I pulled myself tighter into him, knowing time was a precious commodity.

There was a small line when we entered, and I decided to forgo my usual regular coffee and go for something sweeter—a white mocha. Nathan paid, and we moved down to wait. His ring tone blared from his pocket, and he pulled his phone out, his brow scrunching as he looked down at the screen.

“Sorry, I have to take this.” His lips pressed against my forehead, then he turned and headed for the door, putting the phone up to his ear.

His back was to me as I stared out the window at him. He’d been so stressed lately. Nightmares, anxiety, anger. Every day he got closer to snapping, and I wondered when it would come, or if the Marconi would get us first. In light of my text from Noah, I knew the answer.

I blew out a breath and turned back to the counter to grab our drinks along with a carrier. My cheeks heated as I set them down to add the creamer to Owen’s. Nathan’s kinky stunt made me blush every time I’d gotten a coffee since then.

Once completed, I grabbed the cups and headed toward the door, but he was missing.

My heart stopped, and everything began to move in slow motion.

The carrier slipped from my hands, but I was already racing out the door, not caring that the hot liquid splashed on me as they hit the floor.

Panic gripped me as my vision narrowed in on him. His eyes were wide, searching around while his hands shook and his breath came out in clipped pants, face flush with anger. The phone that had once been in his hand was shattered on the ground—the glass cracked, the back popped off, and the battery lying a foot away.

People were staring at him with whispered words, wondering what was going on. There was an officer approaching, and I quickened my pace to his side.

“Nathan, what’s wrong?”

His angry eyes snapped to mine, then he wrapped his arms around me, turning us so that his back was to the street.

“I’ll protect you.”

“From what? Baby, what happened?”

“I’ll protect you.”

“You’re scaring me. What aren’t you saying?”

His jaw was clenched tight and he cursed when he looked down at his phone before bending over to pick up the pieces.

“We need to go.” He grabbed my arm and took off at a brisk pace that I was almost unable to keep up with.

I stumbled more than once, trying to keep up while wearing heels. “Where are we going?”

“Anywhere but here.” He shook his head, cursing under his breath.

I tugged back on my arm, yanking it free. He turned, annoyed, and reached for me again.

“No! What happened? Who called you?”

His face scrunched. “Noah called. Tom Preston was shot at lunch.”

I gasped. “Is he okay?”

“He’s alive, for now.”

Stunned silence took hold. What were we going to do?

“Give me your phone.”

“What?”

“I have to call Jack.”

I handed it over and got lost in my thoughts as he talked to Jack and our pace picked back up. I didn’t understand before, when we met, when I was told, my own naiveté clouding everything. It wasn’t just Nathan they were after. Everyone involved was marked.

A chill moved down my spine. Would they ever stop? I knew the answer—it was clear as day.

When we were all dead.

CHAPTER 25

Nathan was silent, his grip on my hand tight on the walk back to the office. It all began to settle in that we’d reached the finale. My chest clenched and I leaned into him as we rode the elevator up.

He refused to let go of me. The office exploded in murmurs—hushed whispers, scared faces, and pointed fingers.

Nathan stopped mid-step and let go of my hand, reaching across my body instead and gripping my arm. It was too tight, panicked. I looked up, and in front of his office door stood a figure.

The man had slick-backed, midnight black hair, deep age lines carved into his clean-shaven face. He had to be at least sixty, if not seventy. The black suit he wore was not off the rack and probably cost a small fortune.

Nathan positioned himself in front of me, blocking me from the stranger, but I could still see. The man’s stance screamed elite—legs apart, spine straight, hands in his pockets. He radiated arrogance as his cold eyes surveyed me with an odd curiosity. Our eyes met and his lip twitched, and what looked like a combination of cruelty and excitement flashed.

A shiver ran through me, and my heart began to hammer in my chest. My flight response screamed in terror, pulsing the danger signal through every cell.

I’d never seen a picture of him, but I was certain the man in front of us was Vincent Marconi himself.

Nathan tensed, his muscles strained tight and shaking with suppressed energy. “Stop looking at her.” The edge in his tone as he snapped surprised me. “What do you want?”

The anger-filled, intense feeling emanating from Nathan was suffocating. I’d seen him angry before, but the strength was crushing me—a whole new level of emotion.

Vincent’s lips curled up, the cruelty I’d seen before shining through in his false, mocking show. “Ah, Nathan, what a pleasure it is to see you again.”

“Vincent,” Nathan growled. “What can I do for you?”

My airway restricted as my theory was confirmed. The floor began to fall away and the world slipped as my knees weakened. I could barely stand from the weight of it all.

“I just came by to see how you were doing after that horrible accident you were in a few years ago.” His fake concern dripped from his voice. “Terrible, really, to be filled with so much titanium and other metals to hold your shattered body together.”

I grabbed onto the back of Nathan’s jacket, fisting it, anchoring me to him. The man who’d broken him stood in front of us, wanting to do it all again.

His body hardened even more—a rock bracing for the coming wave. “As you can clearly see, I’m getting by.”

“And your poor, poor wife. Pregnant, wasn’t she? To lose all of your family. Tragic, really. Rumor has it you have remarried.” Vincent’s gaze flickered back to me.

I locked my knees, fighting to stay strong and not let him see my weakness.

With that comment, Nathan’s hand reached out and pushed me so he was standing fully in front of me.

“Is that her?” Vincent asked, fake curiosity dripping from his tone.

Nathan’s arm shook as I peeked to look around his shoulder again.

“Hello, Mrs. Thorne, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” Vincent extended his hand.

His whole demeanor and the conversation didn’t sit well with me, and the prospect of touching him sent chills through my body. I leaned into Nathan for support.

“She has nothing to do with this. Leave her alone.”

Vincent gave Nathan that smile again. “Nathan, don’t be rude. I only stopped by today to see how you were doing after all this time. Nothing more.” Vincent sighed, as if put off. “However, I see you remain as arrogant and rude as you always were. Therefore, I’ll take my leave.” He nodded at me, a strange hunger as he looked me over. “It was a pleasure meeting you,
Mrs. Thorne
.”

His stance, his tone,
his presence
was a threat.

Nathan’s hands were balled into tight fists, shaking as a low growl vibrated through him.

Vincent chuckled before giving his final goodbye and sauntering down the hall away from us. We both stared after him, as did the entire office. The moment the elevator doors closed and he was gone, Nathan yanked on my arm, moving us down the hall.

“Get your purse.”

“What?”

His jaw twitched. “We’re leaving. We’re not staying here.”

The tension was still high, his grip tight, barely letting me get my things before pulling me down the hall. All eyes were on us as we made our way to the elevators, and their own fear could be seen—their pity.

Nathan sped through the streets on the way home, his eyes constantly checking the mirrors to see if anyone was following us. I’d never seen him so shaken, but Vincent Marconi’s visit had him on a whole new level of paranoid and freaking out. When we arrived home, he quickly ushered us to the elevator. As soon as we were in the door, he was running to the bedroom.

When I caught up, he was pulling our suitcases down from the closet and throwing them on the bed. The pace as he moved back and forth from the dresser, the closet, and the bed, depositing clothes as he went, was frightening.

“What are you doing?”

“We’re going. Leaving now.”

I shook my head. “We can’t just leave.”

“Yes, we can, and we are.” He pulled open the dresser, grabbing handfuls of stuff, paying no attention to what it was. “It’s the only way I can protect you.”

I shook my head and set my hands on my hips, digging my heels into the floor. “There has to be another way.”

“Unless Vincent Marconi drops dead, there isn’t.”

“It could happen.”

His jaw flexed, teeth mashing together. “I’m not taking a chance on
if
.”

“Nate, we need to form a plan. We can’t just take off.”

“Damn it! Why won’t you fucking listen to me?”

“Because you’re being unreasonable.” My fingers flexed against my hips.

“No, I’m not.” The volume of his voice increased, almost to the point of yelling. His eyes hardened. “I’ve warned you about my past.”

“You’re just going to leave your family?”

His motions halted. He stood stone still for a moment, then grabbed my phone from his pocket and dialed a number.

“Mom, I need you to pack your bags… The Marconi… Mom, please don’t argue.”

I snatched the phone from his hands. “Sarah, we’ll call you back.”

I forced down my own anxiety as I stared at my husband’s frantic behavior.

“I’ll call Darren, you work on calming him.” The worry in her voice could be heard

I nodded, not that she could see. “Talk to you soon.”

I hung up and walked over to him. He was shaking violently as he stuffed clothing into the cases.

“Baby, you need to calm down,” I said in a soothing tone, my fingers running through his hair. “We need to work out a plan.”

His head snapped toward me. “This is serious. We have to leave. I have to get you out of here. I can’t let them… I won’t let them hurt you.”

“Slow down. Take a deep breath. Please.”

“No!” he shouted and turned to me, his eyes beseeching me to understand. “This wasn’t a warning. Everything before was, but Vincent himself seeking me out was his way of saying goodbye, of letting me know that we’re dead. He wanted to see you, see what he was going to take from me. He is going to kill us, Lila! We have to leave now!”

CHAPTER 26

I vibrated with anger and fear as I stared at Nathan. We weren’t right. There was an element that was off in both of us. We weren’t working together as a unit, as a family, and it was hurting us.

I picked up a shoe he’d just dumped into the suitcase and hurled it against the wall. “No. This ends now. Stop with the bullshit!”

He stopped packing and looked at me. “
Bullshit
?”

“Yes. Bullshit.” I was seething. Not working together made us weaker, and it’d become obvious we were falling apart because of it. “You’ve kept things from me. I’ve kept things from you, as well. We can’t do that, not now. Especially not in this moment.”

He blinked at me, stunned. “What are you keeping from me?”

“What are
you
keeping from
me
? I’m your wife, remember? Partner in this life we have together, including impending doom.”

He stepped forward, towering over me, and snarled. “
What
are you keeping from me?”

I blew out a breath and bit my bottom lip before looking him in the eye, my jaw jutting forward. “I knew Marconi was on his way in town this morning.”

“How?” His voice was flat, even, and a shiver ran through me.

“Noah.”

His face scrunched, and he lashed out, grabbing the nearest thing—a pillow—and tossing it across the room, screaming.

“You didn’t tell me? I missed a call from Noah around eight, but I had no idea…” He shook his head. “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?”

I slumped down onto the edge of the bed. “You would’ve freaked out this morning. I was waiting until after work, trying to form a plan, but he’s already here.”

“We could’ve been gone hours ago.” He threw his hands up and stomped away, stopping in front of the bathroom door, his back turned. “How did Noah contact you?”

I closed my eyes and braced myself for his rage. “On a disposable phone he bought me a month ago. He’s been keeping me up to date as well as keeping tabs on us.”

He bent forward, then slammed his hands against the door frame. When he turned to me, I jumped at the fire in his eyes.

“A month? This has been going on for a month and neither of you mentioned it to me? I’ve fucking talked to Noah multiple times, and he never said a word.”

I stared at him and sighed. “You’ve been so on edge. Between the false positive and giving Tom the file, I’ve had to walk on eggshells and do everything I could to keep you relaxed.”

He glared at me, and icy dread flooded my system. It was anger, and not in a good way. “So, my wife has been placating me like a fucking child.”

I jumped up from the bed and stalked forward, pushing against his chest. “You wake up screaming
every
night! Your moods are so heightened and change so fast, I can’t keep up, so I keep even.”

Anger fled from him, replaced by something I couldn’t identify, but I knew it was a jumbled mess of turmoil. His hands ran through his hair, then down to his neck, pulling.

“I never should’ve proposed. We never should’ve gotten married.”

I flinched, recoiling back as if he’d slapped me. He looked up, his eyes empty. My mouth opened and tears began to gather in my eyes. My chest was tight, and I reached behind me, searching for the bed. Stability as my world threatened to collapse around me. His face morphed, eyes wide in panic as he lurched toward me, grabbing my arms.

“No, Honeybear, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way.”

“What way am I supposed to take it?” My voice was strained, forcing the overpowering emotions from pouring out of me. Everything was upside down.

His eyes scrunched closed, teeth bared as he squeezed me tighter.

“I somehow thought I wasn’t a bother to him any longer. All our therapy toned down my fears, and I forgot and was happy. I
convinced
myself we could have a future, a family, and grow old together.” My heart broke at the tortured expression on his face. “Everything that consumes me is you, and I want you in every way, but the one thing I don’t want is you hurt because of me. Marrying you tells them how much you mean to me. They can take you away from me.”

I swallowed hard, then reached out and grabbed hold of the lapels of his jacket. “You told me to stay away from you over and over again. You said you weren’t worth my life, but you were wrong.
You
are my life. If I hadn’t met you, I’d still be a zombie.”

His forehead fell against mine, and he cupped my face before kissing me hard. “I’m sorry. So fucking sorry. I love you so much. I need to keep you safe, for you and for me. Even if that means keeping things from you.” His thumbs caressed my cheek. “I don’t want you to worry. It’s my responsibility to protect you.”

I stared into his eyes as I shook my head. “That’s not protecting me—that’s leaving me vulnerable. Noah noticed it as well and
that’s
why he got the phones. And I do nothing but worry, because I see how everything bothers you. You can’t hide from me. Not me.” I leaned forward and rested my head against his chest, my arms wrapping around his waist. “Remember what we said, what we promised? We’ll never be free, never have a baby, if we continue on this path.”

He flinched at my words. “There isn’t going to ever be a baby if we stay here, if I don’t get you away.”

I pulled back. “Where are we going to go? They’ll find us.”

He shook his head. “I’ve been getting emails, pictures of us, for a few weeks.”

“I know.”

His attention snapped back to me. “You know?”

I nodded. “I saw you looking at them when you were on the phone with Tom. After that, I downloaded your email app to my phone and have been checking it.”

He stared at me in stunned silence for a moment before turning and kicking a half-packed bag. “Jesus fucking Christ! Who the fuck are we?”

I sat back down on the edge of the bed and let out a sigh. “We’re two people in a shit situation, and all we want to do is protect each other.”

He turned, hands on his hips. “Fuck lot of good that’s done us.” He ripped off his jacket and threw it on the ground. He stared off, his face relaxed, almost as if an idea struck him. “Once I take you somewhere you’ll be safe, then I need to hunt him down and end this once and for all.”

“What? That’s crazy! He’ll have a dozen guys with him all carrying guns.”

“Then I’ll get a grenade and we’ll all go down.”

My jaw dropped open as I stared at him and the determination setting into his features. I got back on my feet and slammed my hands against his chest with all my might. “No! Don’t even fucking say anything like that.”

He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me tight. “If it’s the only way to end this…”

My eyes watered, and I swiped away the unshed tears. It was sinking in that there might not be a tomorrow.

Our last night on earth.

The thought hit me like a punch to the gut. My whole body began to shake.

I pulled his head down and bowed up to press my lips to his. The surprise, followed by reluctance, threatened to crush me, and he almost did when his hands wrapped around my wrists. He pushed me back, head shaking.

Tears streamed down my cheeks. “I need you. Please, please.” Nothing could be more true. I needed him, our connection. It felt like I would rip apart without it, the torturous fate ahead of us burying me in crippling grief.

“We have to go.” My own agony reflected in his features.

“If tonight is all we have, give me one last moment with you.”

It hit him as well—understanding flashed across his face. His lips met mine again, fierce and desperate, as he reached down and lifted me up by my ass. I moaned into his mouth, a gasp leaving me soon after as we fell onto the bed.

Harsh hands ripped open my shirt as he bit down on my bra-covered breast. He sat up and pushed my skirt up, grabbing my hips and pulling my pussy against his cock. His mouth was parted, lids heavy as he looked down at me.

“Tell me.” The lust in his eyes faltered, exposing the fear and sadness beneath.

I reached out, my fingers brushing against his chest. “I love you…more than my own life.”

His fingers deftly worked his belt, then moved to his zipper. “More.”

“I’m yours for this life and the next.” His fingers pushed my panties aside, then he rubbed the head of his cock against my pussy, making me burn and melt around him. “I will always be yours.”

He thrust forward, and I convulsed. My eyes rolled back as my nails dug into his forearm. Everything centered around the connection created from his cock being inside me. He leaned over me and wrapped his fingers with mine as he pinned my arms against the bed. Desperation fueled his kisses as my hips met his.

“I would die for you,” he whispered against my lips. My heart fluttered in my chest. “I would kill for you.” His voice was airy, and he grunted as I clamped around him. “My life is yours.” His thrusts picked up, harder, deeper. He stared into my eyes, burning with so many emotions my chest clenched. “My body is yours.”

I whimpered, every muscle tense, my body bowing toward his. His name tumbled from my lips in a mantra.

“Forever. In this life and the next, you are
mine
.”

I crumbled, the world exploding around me as I came. White nothingness washed over me, my body pulsing as each wave of pleasure ripped through me. Nathan let out a roar above me, his hips slamming against me. His cock jerked inside me, and I writhed beneath him, knowing he was filling me.

His breath was harsh above me, and he leaned forward, resting his forehead against mine. Unshed tears sparkled in his eyes.

“I love you, my beautiful wife.”

A tear slipped from my eye, my bottom lip began trembling. “I love you, so much, my husband.”

We stayed like that for a few minutes, hoping the danger would disappear and we could remain lost in each other. It couldn’t last, and we got up, moving to the bathroom to clean up the mess.

Sex helped to relax Nathan enough to slow down and think a little more rationally, but we still got ready to leave. Silence remained over us as we changed our clothing. He made a noise, drawing my attention.

“I can’t believe we’ve been walking around unprotected all this time when we should have had your gun on us.”

I pulled up my jeans and buttoned them. “That’s not entirely true.”

His stared at me for a moment, stunned, before his gaze became angry, nostrils flared. “What?”

I grabbed my purse from the floor and pulled out the Ruger SR22. His eyes were wide as he stared at it.

“When did you start carrying it around?” He held out his hand, and I gave it to him, making sure the safety was still engaged.

“I got it a few weeks ago.”

His head snapped up. “A second gun? How? And why the fuck didn’t you tell me?”

“Drew helped me.”

He cursed under his breath. “Motherfucker.”

“We went over lunch. And I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you freaking out and stressing any more than you were.”

“Where’s your other gun?”

My eyes widened, flickering briefly to the closet. “Nate, I don’t—”

“Where?” His jaw was locked, anger radiating from him.

I walked into the closet and sighed as I pulled out the black metal case.

Nathan watched me as I exited and set it on the bed.

“How do you open it?” He set the Ruger down.

I lined my fingers up and set them down. “It’s a biometric fingerprint lock.” After a moment, the lock sprung and the case opened. “Glock 19.”

He reached forward and grabbed the gun along with the clip that was sitting beside it. He looked at it for a moment before sliding the clip in.

“Have you ever used a handgun before?” I stared at him, and he shook his head. “
Any
gun?”

“A shotgun long ago.”

I held out my hand. “Give it to me.”

He glared at me. “No.”

“Nate, you don’t know how to use it.”