Endgame (47 page)

“Yes.” Tears welled up in her eyes, and suddenly, she needed to talk about Aaron. Maybe if Jake got it, understood how she felt, he’d let her go. “I know it’s stupid to love someone that quickly, but he saw me like you don’t see me, as a desirable woman. Not as a sister or a killing machine with a kick-ass resume. He saw me and he didn’t even want me to change. He loved me as Charlotte. All of me.”

Jake sighed. “Sweetheart, we see you.”

No, they didn’t. “But not like Aaron saw me. You’ve never wanted me like he wanted me. No one has. Maybe John, in the beginning, but we know how that turned out.”

“Okay, so what if Aaron were in your life? Would you want to run to Russia then?”

“Does it matter? He’s moved on. And even if he hadn’t, I know it won’t work. I’ll get him killed, and I can’t give him children. I’m not a very good catch for a punk like him.”

Jake shifted in that grumpy way of his. “Just play what if, please? Humor me.”

“Then…I would stay. We both know it’s impossible, though.” She swallowed hard, fighting the moisture at the corner of her eyes. “But if I could have one wish, it would be to be with Aaron one last time. Just one day to make amends for what he did for me.” So she could say she was sorry for turning him into a killer.

“I’m sorry. I just wanted you both to be happy.” He sighed and held her closer. “Aaron’s doing fine, Char. Chase won’t let me tell you more, but he’s okay.”

She knew they’d never tell her about Aaron. That’s why she never asked. Lifting her chin, she kissed Jake on the cheek. “Thank you.”

It would have to be enough to get her through to her next life. Then hopefully…she’d forget Aaron, too.

****

“And here he is,” Aaron said as he watched through the binoculars. “No Jake, though.”

Chase had exited Charlotte’s apartment building about ten seconds ago and stood alone on the sidewalk, scanning the street with a sour expression.

Agent Steve Crazwalski grunted from the driver’s side of the car, frowning as he watched his boss. Chase had issued Steve for protection after everything had gone down. Aaron had decided Steve was more insurance to keep him from contacting Charlotte since John was dead and he was probably in very little danger.

Steve was a cool dude, and he was the computer and technical specialist of the crew. Five-ten-ish, dark hair and hazel eyes, handsome in a guy-next-door fashion that seemed to attract both the men and women. Steve didn’t seem to have a preference and bragged to Aaron about the finer points of kink, such as ménage with both sexes. Definitely educational. He wasn’t as much fun as Charlotte, but he was easy to manipulate and revered Aaron as a god for laying the Dragon Queen.

It all worked to Aaron’s advantage.

After the shootout, Aaron’s first goal had been to respect the boundaries Chase had drawn and try to forget Charlotte ever existed. So they spent the week before Christmas—the week after Jake had been shot—breaking Charlotte’s rule of no drinking in excess. Steve was an excellent bartender and Chase’s expense account funded a whole bevy of drink concoctions.

The second week they’d spent in Mexico with his lesbian neighbor, Kelly. His agent had wanted tabloid chatter for exposure. It had seemed like a good plan when he was ten sheets to the wind. But once sober, holding Kelly in his arms on the beach had only served to remind him of his special day with Charlotte.

So he went back to drowning the pain with whiskey while Steve whored, all on the government’s dime. No drugs, which would have made Charlotte proud.

Chase had also tried to make him get therapy for his part in killing John, probably at Jake’s insistence. Oddly, the main thing that bothered Aaron about that day was holding Charlotte as she bled and cried, until she slumped, unconscious, against his chest. The killing part—John was pure evil. Andersons protected their women. It all made sense in his mind, though he did pray that John’s soul went straight to hell with no detours.

But as much as Aaron wanted to move on, he couldn’t satisfy the ache in his soul, one that said he was failing his destiny of making Charlotte happy. So he called Jake often, hoping for news. Jake was recovering nicely and Aaron was grateful for that, but the conversations were short and strained, because his big brother knew the rules—no news for Aaron.

Then Aaron’s dates for starting the second spy film had been changed due to an emergency—the director had been in a car accident. Now he was expected to be on the set March first. One thing led to another, and somehow, Aaron found himself in D.C., crashing at Steve’s place, intending to guard his Danger Girl because he couldn’t take it any longer. He had at least to be near her, and if he looked like a stalker doing it, then Chase could pay bail.

They’d been watching Charlotte’s apartment for five days, only they’d seen neither hide nor hair of her. The only visitors had been Chase and others from the spy team, all checking in at regular intervals. Until this morning, when his brother had joined Chase, staggering out of the car and into the apartment building.

Chase stood outside on the sidewalk still, running his hand through his dark hair in total Jake-like, pissed off fashion. He contemplated his phone, glaring at the display.

Aaron glanced at Steve. “Your boss looks pissy.”

“He probably got the expense report I faxed in. He’s going to kill you, then me.” Steve groaned, though he didn’t seem to want to put down the large latte he’d bought off the expense tab.

“I told you to lie.”

“You don’t lie to Satan, Aaron. You just don’t.”

Chase sighed, his shoulders hunching as he punched a few buttons and put the phone to his ear.

Aaron peered harder though the binoculars. “He’s on the phone. Do you have a long distance microphone or something we can use to listen to what he’s saying?”

“Not with me.”

Aaron’s phone rang from the depths of his pocket. Surprised as hell, he whipped it out, the display reading Chase’s name. “Well, well. Satan’s calling.”

“Shit.”

Aaron answered on the third ring just for kicks. Waiting seemed to piss Chase off more as he jigged on the sidewalk. “Hello there, boss. How’s things.”

“You sound awful chipper, considering it’s oh-seven hundred in L.A. Turning over a new leaf? No more whoring and drinking?” Chase wrapped his coat tighter around him.

“We’re sober and we’ve been up for a while. Working. Steve says hi.”

“Working?” Chase froze mid-tug of his coat. “You have another acting job?”

It was time to fill in the boss about their surveillance gig. If Chase was calling, he obviously needed something. Aaron hoped this meant they could start negotiating. He would do anything to be with Charlotte. Fake his death, move, quit acting, surgery—whatever it took. “You look good in purple, Chase. Not many guys can rock that color and not look gay, but you seem to have the knack.”

Chase’s head snapped to attention, scanning the street, the rest of him stiller than stone. “Where the fuck are you? I’m going to choke Crazwalski. Tell him. Between this and that expense report, he’s dead.”

“You’re not going to choke him. You love him. You got him a hooker for Christmas.” The gesture had put Steve on Aaron’s side when he had decided to jump ship and lie to Chase about their whereabouts so they could guard Charlotte.

“Jesus, Aaron. Why you? There are seven fucking billion people on this planet, and she has to love you.”

“I’m special.” Satan just admitted she loved him. Aaron grinned, as giddy and excited as teenager. He waved when Chase’s intense gaze locked on the sweet rental car, also from the expense account. “Are you coming over for a chat?”

“Tell Steve to get in the back seat.”

Steve got out as Chase crossed the street. Both men slid into the car, and Chase stabbed a finger over the back of his seat in Steve’s direction. “Dead, Steve. I’m not even going a mile away on this one. You’re dead.”

“How many miles do you want me to run?” Steve asked with a sigh.

“Whatever you spent in hookers, booze, and whatever else you bought. Just your share. Aaron will run his.”

“Jesus,” Steve moaned and slunk down in the back.

“I’m a tax payer,” Aaron informed him. “Therefore, it’s my money.”

Chase gnashed his teeth, frustrated as hell.

Aaron grinned. “You rang. Did you want something?”

“I have a request, and I guess you being here makes this easier. We have a problem.”

“We have lots of problems. I love her, she loves me, and you’re not doing a damned thing about it. I tried staying away. We drank. We went on vacation. Now, we’re refreshed and on duty, because if I can’t be with her, I’m going to protect her from a distance.”

“She doesn’t need your protection. This is like two moths sitting outside of a dragon’s lair to protect it when it can just breathe fire and kill you.” Chase tapped his fingers angrily on the steering wheel. “Besides, the dragon is pissed. She saw your vacation pictures. She thinks you’ve moved on.”

“I wouldn’t do that. That was my lesbian neighbor and Char met her.” Aaron thought for a moment. No, Charlotte hadn’t met Kelly when they borrowed the car or returned it that one time. Kelly had landed a sweet commercial gig right after that and had flown off to Vegas.
Shit
.

“Well, Charlotte is depressed and ready to run off to Russia on a long and involved undercover assignment. Which means, in all reality, given the danger involved, none of us will see her again.”

A chill raced down Aaron’s spine. “Don’t! Jesus, don’t let her do that.” The whole point of killing John was so she’d have a chance to live. Unfortunately, she wasn’t seeing it that way, not if she was pushing them all away. As brave and strong as she was, she needed Jake and Chase. She needed him. “Tell her no, damn it. You’re the boss.”

“I can’t tell her no. She went over my head on this one. But I’m not going to let her just disappear. I’m not a monster.” Chase studied Aaron for a long moment, his eyes narrow and searching. “How much do you love her?”

So simple, this answer. “I love her more than my life. I’ll do anything.”

Aaron held his breath as Chase pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. “I just need you to do as you’re told for once. You think you can handle that? You’re not very good at following orders. You’re worse than Jake.”

Aaron’s breath whooshed out on a surge of joy. “Seriously?”

“Beyond my better judgment, yes.”

It sounded way too good to be true. “I do what I’m told, and I can love her? Is this a joke?”

“I hope not.” Chase frowned, starting to look a little green around the gills. “I don’t know if I have balls big enough for this, but I love her, too. I can’t put her on a plane so I’m going to bat for her.”

“Go to bat?” Hope dawned on the heels of realization. Still, he didn’t want to assume. Chase was already an ass. “What the hell does that mean?”

“I’m going to get her out of her contract. She went over my head to get this assignment. Now I have to play hardball with a man who makes me look like Santa Claus.”

“You’re gonna face the general,” Steve whispered from the back. “Damn.”

Aaron’s heart rate picked up speed, becoming a steady, hard staccato in his chest. Chase didn’t look well. If this man scared Satan… “Your boss?”

Chase nodded, the ill look intensifying. “You going to follow directions? Because I’m not going to go vomit up a perfectly good breakfast for you to fuck this up.”

“I’ll do whatever you tell me to do.” This time Aaron didn’t need to lie. It felt damned good not to lie for a change, almost as good as the hope of holding her in his arms again. “I’ll do whatever she needs. I’ll fake my death, get plastic surgery, quit being an actor, move to Tibet and raise yaks with Charlotte.”

“Yaks? You’re fucking crazy.” Chase shook his head, muttered something about seven billion. “All you have to do is your part. Be there, be supportive, help her find a new path and purpose that doesn’t involve killing someone or moving to Russia. Can you handle that?”

Aaron nodded. “Just give the orders.”

“I’ll take Jake home, have my meeting, and if all goes well, it will be your turn to bat. You better not strike out, either,” Chase warned. “If I have to put her on a plane to Russia because you’ve fucked this up, you will end up with six feet of dirt on your coffin. I won’t kill you first, either. Got it?”

“Got it.” Aaron prayed for the bases to be loaded and for him to hit a home run. He wanted the win, more than he’d ever wanted anything. He wanted Charlotte.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

A few hours later, Charlotte stood in the closet and contemplated which longer coat to take when her front door opened and closed. His keys clinked the counter, his coat landed in a chair, and a bag hit the floor.

Chase.

She stiffened, mentally gearing up for the fight that would ensue. No greeting, because Chase had to be as pissed as hell at her. No doubt he’d spent the afternoon arguing with General Sanders about her assignment. She doubted Chase would win.

The bag worried her. Who knew what Chase had planned.

She rummaged through her closet with a little more force than needed, afraid to turn and face him as he walked in. Tension filled the room again, radiating from his direction, her back warm, as if his glare bored a hole in it. The bed behind her squeaked. Chase must have sat. He still said nothing, though, which worried her as much as the bag.

She had spent the afternoon packing what she knew she’d need immediately. The rest of her wardrobe would be purchased when she landed, to blend better. Chase could hire someone to put the rest of her things in storage.

After talking to Jake, she felt better about her decision. He was devil-bound she wasn’t going, but maybe it was time to sever the bond for good, not to be their pet any longer. Maybe she needed to convince Chase of that.

It also scared her witless. What if she wasn’t strong enough? What if she couldn’t be totally alone? She shoved that aside and went with the positive.

It was her only choice.

“Chase, I know you’re angry with me and you don’t understand, but this is for the better.” She swallowed a lump in her throat. “You and Jake have done so much for me and I’m grateful. But given where your lives are going and how much pain and trouble I’ve caused you…” Damn it, she didn’t want to cry, but she couldn’t stop the tear from forming at the corner of her eye. “It’s just time to finally set me free, I think.”