Endgame (41 page)

“You still with me? This is the bad part.”

As if that wasn’t bad enough. She forced a nod and clung to him, Chase’s scent and Aaron’s enough to keep her grounded. Maybe. It hurt so much.

“John beat the shit out of you, raped you, and was going to leave you to die.” His words tumbled out in a rush, as if it hurt him as much to say it. “You don’t remember, but Jake pulled him off. Your face was bloody, eyes so swollen you couldn’t see. Jake beat the crap out of John, but he stabbed Jake and got away.”

“My face was swollen.” That’s why she couldn’t see in her dreams, why it was a wash of pain dredged up from the bottom of her soul. “I couldn’t see.”

“No. Somehow, you managed to crawl into the dining room, under the table. Jake followed the trail of blood but you fought him. I think that’s why you don’t like the way he smells. He would have been sweaty from fighting John and you would have smelled him. Even so broken and battered, losing your baby, you still fought Jake. So brave, right to the end.”

She’d always thought of Abigail as weak and compliant. Maybe she had a touch of Charlotte in her right from the get-go. “I fought Aaron, too, when I had a nightmare.”

“I have scars where you’ve scratched my arms during nightmares. That’s why we kept your nails trimmed short in the beginning. I think we could have trimmed a mountain lion’s claws easier. Always so tough.” His voice held a note of pride, and she opened her eyes. Chase’s emotions were displayed for her to see—sadness, pain, anger. Love for her.

“When you attempted suicide, we told you it was out of grief for your baby. That was some of it, but one therapist said to tell you everything, so you could face the truth about John. You hit the pills right afterward, taking the entire bottle.

“That was the last straw. It was let you kill yourself or lock you away, and we couldn’t do either to you. So we did the only thing we knew how to do, and we turned you into Charlotte. We knew he’d come after you. We knew he’d try killing you again, and we wanted you to have the skills to survive. Maybe we were wrong. But I stand behind my decision. I loved you too much for you to die.”

“I—I’m sorry,” she whispered, horrified. Ashamed. But now she understood why they went to such lengths to lie to her about doomsday. It hurt them, physically and mentally, as much as it hurt her.

“Sweetheart, there’s nothing to be sorry about.”

Poor Jake, how mean she’d been to him over the years, after he had saved her. No wonder he’d been so hurt when she loved Chase so much more.

“That happened to me.” A part of her didn’t want to believe. She knew doomsday was horrible, because she wouldn’t be a barely functioning basket case if it had been a cakewalk. Knowing John did this, the man who was supposed to be her husband, was supposed to love her. That she had once loved so desperately…

“There’s more, sweetheart.”

She shuddered. “I can’t take more.”

“John will use this tonight. I can’t have you going in, not knowing everything he did. I did.”

She nodded, hating the fear in the pit of her stomach.

“I was at one of John’s parties, once.”

“Reese said that John saw you at one and thought we were having an affair.” She wracked her brain, trying to remember. Those were all so foggy, because she’d been so shy and John had suggested she take a tranquilizer before they went. She rarely remembered what went on, and it shamed her to be such a chicken shit. Abigail and Aaron were more alike than they knew. “I don’t remember seeing you. I would have been terrified.”

“You don’t remember me because you were…” He growled, and she heard it resonate in his chest. “You were unconscious. Restrained to a bed, naked. I tried to revive you, tried to get you out, and then John walked in and asked if I was going to share you. He said you were a little nervous and he’d given you something for it, but you loved what we would do to you. You loved pain.”

The dark memories swirled harder, faster, her chest clenching. John had drugged her and let others fuck her. Hurt her. She remembered vaguely the pain the next day, the odd bruises, the cuts. How sore her pussy and ass had been. John always claimed he had been a bit rough, but she’d enjoyed every minute. She’d been nothing better than a whore.

She fought the tears, wishing she were all Charlotte again. But Chase, damn him, had drummed up Abigail full force. “Did you—”

Chase looked horrified. “No! I left, and I couldn’t take you, Charlotte. If I had tried to save you, then, he would have killed us both. Leaving you almost killed me. Jake and I decided then we’d get you out, somehow. Only you wouldn’t cooperate.”

“Aaron’s not my number two.” The words seemed so stupid compared to all she’d lost. Experienced. Somehow knowing that was a lie, too…it was like the last nail in her coffin, the one that shut her in with despair.

“Yes, he is.” He lifted her chin to pierce her soul with a stare so sharp, intense she wanted to cry again. “Don’t turn victim on me. You’re not a whore or cheap. You were helpless then and John hurt you. Find the anger inside you and direct it toward him, not the acts. Aaron is your two, because you gave yourself.”

“You could have told me before doomsday.” She would have never believed him, though.

“Do you know how hard it was to sit in that café on that Tuesday and listen to you? How bad you wanted out, how you wanted to take John and run, before it was too late, so you could save your baby…”

Though Chase let her in, rarely, the pain and anguish in his eyes was unbearable. “You were so in love. So gentle and sweet. Innocent in a lot of ways. I couldn’t destroy that by telling you. Not there, then. I’m a sucker for innocence. That’s how I got Kate. But it started with you.”

“You killed the innocence.”

“I’m sorry. But yes, I did. I have a problem with that, too.” He’d destroyed Kate’s innocence as well. “You asked me to make you the woman who killed the motherfuckers. So we decided we’d train you, and then we’d find other things for you. Keep you under the radar, find you a new purpose. A new path. Fall in love with anyone but Aaron. Someone safe to anchor you here in the world with us.”

That didn’t sound right. Sure, maybe Jake the romantic had thought that, but Chase? Wanting her to find an anchor? Love? Never. “But you let Jake shove me at Aaron, when he was off limits. Why?” She thought a second more. “This connects with Aaron somehow, doesn’t it? That’s why you wouldn’t call or wouldn’t let Jake fill me in.”

Chase nodded slowly. “The game was in play, and I couldn’t stop it any longer. John is Celia’s father, Charlotte. Her real father, using his given name, Jared Shaw. John Cadwell was an alias. He was pissed as hell that Aaron had an affair with her. He hired thugs to tie him up and threaten him, to warn him. Nothing more.”

Knowing John had fucked with Aaron, too, turned the slow burn on the anger again, a feeling more comfortable than despair. “Then how did you learn about the connection?”

Chase straightened a bit, his arm still around her waist. “The information gathered about Celia’s husband, Vincent Perroti, didn’t feel right from day one. Something was missing. The men Celia was working with in England didn’t match up with her husband’s doings. They were men from John’s circle. John had asked her to meet with these men, saying they were old friends. Information was exchanged.”

So close. “I could have moved months ago.”

Chase shook his head. “We didn’t know then. John surfaced long enough to catch a breath and then he was underground again. It took us a bit to get the father/daughter connection—Jake figured it out, when he had his date with Celia.”

Jake had been so close-mouthed after that, unwilling to share. Now she knew why. “Jake could have told me.”

“I told him not to.”

She took a deep breath, Aaron’s light scent calming her. Of course, Chase wouldn’t let Jake share what he knew. It wasn’t his way. “And as always, you are an excellent boss. Work comes first.”

“Work doesn’t come first. Not always.”

“Really?” How could he, of all people, tell a bald-faced lie about that? Once he became the boss, he’d been all about work, until he met Kate. Even Kate had paid the price of his job. “That’s funny, Chase, for you to say that as you get ready to send me to the lion’s den.”

“I’m not sending you alone. When you made the vow to kill the motherfuckers… I vowed to go with you.”

“Well, yes, that’s what the boss does on a big field mission. And now you’ll take me to the door of the party, drop me off, and hopefully they’ll give you Jake.”

Chase shook his head, annoyed. “No. I vowed to go
with
you. Jake and I, we would stand by your side, live or die. This is our endgame, too. It was my silent vow to you the day you decided to take on the world. I—no, we—had put that in play, and we weren’t sending you out alone to face John.”

He shifted, and his eyes begged her to believe. “This was never work. Work was a means to give you what you needed to live. I trained you to kill so you could look John in the eye and do what you needed to do. But unfortunately, we needed the office to give you a deep enough cover to keep you safe. If we could have given you this without this fucking job, we would have.”

Chase didn’t have to go. He was the boss. He could drop her at the door of the party and send her in, alone, because sometimes, that’s what had to happen, despite the outcome. Chase was valuable to the agency, more so than she ever dreamed of being. And he had a family, Jake had Tia. Yet, they were going with her into hell.

Her boys did love her. Charlotte hugged him tighter, unable to believe he loved her that much. As much as the offer touched her, she couldn’t let him do this. Not for her, not when he had so much to lose. “But Kate…”

His jaw took on that stubborn set he’d picked up from Jake. “I love her and Alex more than life itself. But I made my choice a long time ago, and I don’t go back on a promise.”

“You did this. For me.”

“Jake, too. But the ass sort of made himself useless.” Chase drew away from her and shrugged. Then he forced a smile that bridged on cocky. “The endgame results are more favorable to the side with an aggressive king.”

She snorted. “King?”

“I am Lord of the Spies,” he said, all ego and arrogance.

“Yes, you are.” She’d make damn well sure he and Jake would come back to their families. It was the least she could do. “Thank you.”

“We love you, Char. Remember that. We love you.”

Kate walked into the kitchen, wearing Chase’s sweatshirt over leggings. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and there was no mistaking she’d been crying. But she went to Chase bravely, sliding her fingers into his belt loops on each side of his hips.

Chase hesitated, then put his forearms on hers, his hands wrapping around her biceps. He dropped his head just enough so their foreheads touched. To most, this would be considered cold—why not hug her? She was his wife. He was about to face death. But Charlotte knew him too well. Hugging Kate would be his undoing.

He lifted his head and smiled down at Kate. “We’ll be back soon. Before midnight, with Jake. You’ll see.”

Kate nodded but didn’t look the least bit reassured.

“I’ll be right back.” Chase kissed her forehead, untangled himself from her arms and strode down the hall.

Kate pinned her accusing gaze on Charlotte as she wrapped her arms around her waist, as if warding off the truth. “He’s not coming back, is he? And don’t lie, because I know him. He just went to throw up in the bathroom down the hall. He doesn’t throw up for field missions.”

“He’ll return. With Jake. I promise.” Charlotte had always been so jealous of Kate’s relationship with her boys. Charlotte would have fucked them both, too, if they had commanded it. But that was the difference—they would have had to command her. Kate had gone willingly into their arms.

After loving Aaron, this jealousy was stupid on her part. Kate had always been gracious, sharing Chase with her, his shirts, never once complaining. Kate had always tried to go the distance, to make Charlotte feel welcomed.

Charlotte hesitated, and then decided she would tell her pseudo-sister the truth. She owed Kate more than what Chase would tell her. “They want me, Kate. Not money or Jake. Not Chase. I’ll do everything to make sure he comes home with Jake.”

Charlotte would die for them to live. Pure and simple.

Kate caught the implication and sucked in a breath. “What about you and Aaron?”

“You know why none of that works.” Charlotte channeled the coldness inside her. Just hearing his name made her heart ache again. She failed miserably. “You and Tia will make sure he’s okay, yes? Check on him?”

Kate nodded, her eyes glazing with fresh tears. What could either of them say? Kate knew the score, better than anyone. Chase would have told her enough to understand that this was it. “I hope you come home, too. I love you, too, Charlotte. I know you don’t believe that, but Tia and I…our men need you. I don’t know if we’re strong enough to hold them together if something happens to you.”

“I’ll do my best to send them home.” She couldn’t promise Kate more.

Kate nodded and sighed as Chase came back down the hall, looking less green around the gills. He smiled at Kate. “Love you,” he whispered and kissed her quickly. “I’ll be home soon.”

Then he grabbed his black leather jacket from the barstool and gestured to Charlotte. “You ready to roll?”

“It’s now or never,” Charlotte said. “Endgame time.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

Charlotte sat shotgun next to Chase in her car, since hers was nondescript and smaller than his vehicles. John had emailed an address ten minutes ago, and Ryan the tech god was working on schematics for the house and other things they would need. They had a small window of time to get to the house in the country before the door would be closed to access. If they were late, he was killing Jake.

Charlotte fought for the calm, fought to become the killing machine that lurked inside. The Dragon Queen was there, cold, hard, and mean. Why couldn’t she summon her, now? Damned that Aaron for making her feel, for taking her edge.

Chase took her hand, and she closed her eyes, allowing the contact as she struggled internally to find herself. To find Charlotte. “I used to be cold and emotionless. Why can’t I feel that now? When I need it?”