Renegade (Elite Ops 5) (40 page)

And she couldn't stop the tears from filling her eyes. They didn't fall. She would be damned if she was going to cry for him. She wasn't going to cry over him.

She felt sick inside. Her stomach was cramping with the pain, with the tears that

wanted to fall.

Lifting herself slowly from the table, she ignored him, aware of him watching her, aware of the dark, brutal grief that reflected in his gaze. A grief that built inside her with a force she couldn't fight.

She was going to cry.

It almost tore free. It almost bled inside her.

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"Mikayla." He caught her as she turned to rush from the room.

"Don't." Desperation shuddered through her. "Let me go."

"You don't understand," he whispered. "Listen to me, Mikayla. You don't know who I am. You don't know what I am. Don't love me, baby. Don't hurt us both like this."

She shook her head. How was she supposed to answer him? How was she

supposed to survive the pain inside her when she knew that whatever it was that kept tugging them closer was something he wanted destroyed. He didn't want whatever she had to give. She had been right in what she had said before: he wanted nothing but the fuck.

"I can't let this happen." His voice was hardening.

"Then don't."

Jerking away from him, naked, fighting back tears, she rushed from the sewing

room for the safety of her bedroom.

In that moment she realized she had been hoping. Hoping so much. A part of her

had been hiding that hope even from herself. A hope that Nik would at least allow a small measure of what she felt into his heart.

Just a little bit. She wasn't asking for much. Just enough that maybe he would

think of her when he was gone. That maybe, oh God, maybe one day he would come

back to her.

Rushing to the bathroom, she closed the door behind her, flattened her back to it, and let the first tear fall.

She wasn't going to cry for him. She was crying for herself.

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Chapter 21

As Ian and Kira arrived at the house more than an hour later, Nik watched

Mikayla warily. She was composed, no hint of the tears he knew she had shed in her eyes, and no hint of the anger.

It was as if what had happened in the sewing room, the pleasure, the pain, the

nightmares resurfacing inside his mind, had never occurred.

But evidently his own composure wasn't nearly as strong as he thought.

"What's going on, Renegade?" Ian asked as they moved onto the back deck with a beer.

"You were the one who wanted to meet," Nik reminded him as he finished his second beer. "I could be in bed sleeping now. So, I'd say that's my question."

"Yeah, but I'm not the one who looks like a train wreck and Kira's not wearing makeup to hide the fact she's been crying," Ian pointed out.

Nik glanced back at him.

To look at him, no one would ever know that the former Navy SEAL was the son

of a former South American drug cartel leader. Or that he had single-handedly brought his father down.

Ian Richards was one of the few men Nik trusted. He was also one of the few who

knew Nik's secrets and the life he lived.

"She wants more than I can give," he stated as he gritted his teeth in frustration.

"She thinks her life is a fucking game and going with me to meet Kefler is a damned walk in the park."

She thought she should be able to love him and that he should be able to love in

return. How did a man go about convincing a fairy that fairy tales simply did not exist?

"She's nothing like Tatyiana, Nik."

Nik's fists clenched. He never spoke his deceased wife's name. He never thought

it. The guilt of his own absence in their marriage had the power to make him want to cringe in shame and anger, and her name was only a reminder of the fact that his wife and daughter had died because of his neglect of his marriage.

"Mikayla doesn't seem like a woman who would allow you to forget you had a

wife. She's proving now that she would insert herself where she feels she belongs," Ian continued.

"Do you think I don't know that?" Nik kept his back to the other man as he finished the beer quickly.

"Then what's the problem? She's a damned fine woman from what I hear. You

could do a hell of a lot worse," Nik was advised.

"Who said I was looking?" Nik growled, anger surging inside him.

Ian chuckled. "That's when you find it, Nik. When it's the most inconvenient thing that could happen in your life."

"What was so important that you had to come here?" Nik turned back to Ian, careful to keep his expression unemotional, unaffected.

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Ian's lips quirked into a rueful smile as he stared back at Nik through the

darkness.

"Kefler is dangerous," Ian stated. "But for the meet you're requesting, it would be safe enough to take her. What you need to know is some information Kira and I

uncovered. He's not just backing certain construction projects; a contact I found says he's out to help someone else break Nelson and take his business over. No one knows who the partner is, but it's someone Kefler thinks he can control."

Nik could feel his back teeth grinding in frustration. "Oh, but it's safe enough to take Mikayla to a meet and greet, right?"

Ian inclined his head. "No one's pretending he's a good guy, Nik, but he's a part of a network as well. One that's ensuring her safety."

Nik's eyes narrowed at the lowered tone and the information. That network could

mean only one thing: Martin Kefler was a law enforcement informant.

"You know how it works," Ian continued. "He's given the white-glove treatment and certain leeway in exchange for services rendered. That doesn't mean he's not one of the meanest sharks in the pool, but it does mean he can be required to give certain favors."

"And the favor?" Nik growled.

"You need information and the assurance that no one in his little group will strike at your woman. You have that."

He should flat tell Ian now that Mikayla wasn't his. His lips were parting to do

just that, but the words wouldn't come.

"I'll take that into consideration," Nik bit off.

Ian nodded slowly. "What are you fighting so hard, Nik? Do you think you don't deserve a life now?"

No, he didn't. He'd failed when it had mattered most. When the only innocence he

had known in his life had depended on him, he had failed.

"Let it go, Ian." The rage was beginning to spark inside Nik once again, a rage he remembered from that long-ago night when he had stained his hands with the blood of fellow soldiers and murdered the man who had been the cause of that destruction.

Nik had nearly died himself.

He had wanted to die, but he'd lived instead. To suffer? He'd often wondered. Was

that why his soul had refused to simply drift away?

Ian breathed out heavily. "No one would begrudge you a little happiness after all these years, especially Nicolette."

Something crashed inside Nik's soul. He swore he felt something splinter in his

heart, the pain went so deep.

"Let this go." He heard his own voice, heard the ice dripping from it, felt the fury threatening to engulf it.

"Yeah, sure, Nik, I'll let it go," Ian sighed. "But you're going to break that young woman's heart in there, and when you do, you'll suffer for it as well."

He was already suffering. God knew the pain was sinking sharpened talons so

deep inside his flesh he wondered if he were bleeding from it.

"I want backup." He returned to the subject at hand. "When the meet comes down, I'll let you know. I want you there. Nothing matters but her." He stared back at the other man demandingly. "Do you understand that, Ian? No matter what happens, screw the 195

others. She's all that matters."

Screw the Elite Ops, the organization Nik was a part of and the men who had

pulled him out of hell and those who had paid a fortune to re-create him. The past ten years and the promises of faith he had made meant nothing when compared to the woman whose heart he was breaking.

"That goes without saying, Nik," Ian promised him. "A few of the guys from the backup team are close by on leave. We were getting together for a week before we went back on mission status. We're standing by for you. Just as Jordan is if you need him."

Yeah, Nik's commander would bitch and moan and cuss a blue streak, but he

would do whatever he needed to do.

Nik nodded sharply.

"Anyway," Ian stated heavily. "What did you find out from Holbrook?"

"Confirmation Kefler is indeed backing him," Nik stated before relating details of the meeting to the other man.

"We're still working on the financials of everyone involved, but just from what I've seen so far, there was a hell of a lot of money being exchanged between Kefler and Holbrook. There are some other anomalies as well, but we're still working on those."

"There's something damned strange going on," Nik agreed. "And not just with the money. I can't fit the pieces together. If I look at it logically, Maddix has to be involved, but that alibi is going to be damned hard to break."

Ian nodded. "Stay on Holbrook and Kefler until we turn up something on the

numbers," he advised. "You're going to need ammunition before you go to Nelson or the members of that alibi. Let's get our information together; then you can strike."

Then he would kill. If Maddix was the reason Mikayla was in danger, then

nothing would save him from Nik.

His fists clenched at the thought. The thought that Maddix might have used him

against Mikayla, used him to make her look foolish, or like a liar, enraged him.

"What the hell do you think is going on with this, Nik?" Ian asked. "Ms. Martin's standing in the community is exemplary. None of the teenage high jinks her brothers and friends got into. No drinking, no drugs. She's quiet, dependable, and compassionate. And this has shed a shadow across that reputation she's obviously worked so hard to attain."

"Someone's using her," Nik stated. "The further this goes, the more apparent it becomes. To stop it, I have to find a killer."

"It doesn't make sense." Ian shook his head. "Her reputation could effectively destroy a normal alibi. If it was Maddix, why use a woman with her reputation?"

Nik shook his head before rubbing at the back of his neck. "That's one of the reasons I ruled out Maddix in the killing. He knows Mikayla. He knew her reputation. He knew she would be there. He knew she would recognize him. Why use her? Why bring

me in? Until I can answer these questions, Ian, then this isn't finished."

"If Maddix is involved, then his alibis are involved as well," Ian mused.

"Which could be the reason why this investigation stays stalled. The chief of police, a major business owner as well as two city council members. But why use

Mikayla?"

"Exactly. Why use Mikayla? Why use anyone if it's as simple as committing

murder. He has an agenda. An agenda that includes Mikayla, and possibly includes me.

He called me. He wanted me here specifically."

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"You think he has anything on you?"

The Elite Ops had pasts. They had pasts that were potentially fatal should anyone

learn their secrets, or their weaknesses.

"See what you can find out." Nik turned, staring into the darkness as he considered exactly what a relatively small-town construction owner could know about him.

"I'm already working on it," Ian promised. "Until then, if I were you I'd not just keep my woman with me; I'd watch my back, too. There are too many improbabilities

here, and that makes my neck itch."

An itching neck was never a good thing. That primal, defensive response to

danger was guaranteed to put any soldier on edge. And what more was he than simply an advanced soldier?

"I'll take care of things here; you take care of the information end," Nik told him.

"I'll take care of Mikayla."

"I know you'll take care of her," Ian sighed. "What worries me is your idea of the best way to do that."

"What the fuck does that mean?" Nik turned on him, his gaze slicing to where Ian stood across the back porch watching him.

"The best way to take care of a woman like Mikayla isn't storing her in a

protective area while life passes her by. Leaving her won't save her, Nik."

"Neither will staying." The edge to his voice was sharp, furious. "What do you want, Ian? You think because marital bliss suits you that it suits the rest of the fucking world?"

Ian's lips quirked. "I think it eases the demons, Nik," he finally said. "And you have more than most. But if the demons make better bedfellows than that woman waiting inside, then that's your bad decision, not mine."

"Damned right," Nik snarled. "Remember that."

Ian's smile was rueful and tinged with a hint of compassion that just further pissed Nik off.

"This conversation is over," Nik informed him. "Find something else to talk about or get the hell out of here. I don't care which."

"I should have the information you need soon, Nik," Ian told him, his tone somber now. "And if you need to talk later, then I'll be there."

Nik gave his head a hard shake as a bitter laugh left his lips. "How long have we known each other, Ian?"

"A long time," Ian answered quietly.

"How many times have I needed a buddy powwow?"

"You've never asked for one, Nik," Ian stated. "But if a man ever needed one, then it was you. What happened to Nicolette wasn't your fault. But if blaming yourself helps you sleep better at night, then who am I to tell you different."

Before Nik could sneer in response Ian turned and stepped back into the house.

"Hey, cutie," Nik heard Kira, Ian's wife, greet him. "The dresses are going to be so beautiful. All the other high-society witches are going to be so jealous of me."

Laughter filled her voice as she teased her husband, "And all the guys are going to be so jealous of you. I'm going to be hot." She made a sizzling sound as she stepped into her husband's embrace.