Station Alpha: (Soldiering On #1) (19 page)

The group lapsed into silence. Paul cleared his throat. “Christine has been through a lot. I should probably get her home.”

“Right,” Duncan agreed. “It was good meeting you face-to-face, Christine.”

“Likewise,” she told him.

They left, and Paul and Christine meandered back to their car. The water was to their left, reflecting the light from the buildings on the other side of the river. It was a stunning view, and achingly romantic. She just wished they were looking at it under better circumstances.

“Thank you for saving me,” she told him.

“I think we both saved ourselves and each other,” he replied.

She nodded, swallowing back tears as the memory of those awful moments in that office rushed back to her.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

She sighed, then smiled wearily at him. “I will be. I just need some time.”

He hesitated. “Do you want me to take you home? Or do you want to eat? Or…?” He trailed off, leaving any decision up to her.

“How about we get that dinner? Somewhere quiet.”

Paul grinned at her. “Yeah. Dinner sounds good.”

Their first date. But not their last, Christine knew. She had faith.

Epilogue

The sun had finally thrown off the blanketing clouds that had plagued the city in the last week. Christine, drawn by the warmth, had convinced Paul to join her at a local coffee shop. Mugs that had once held perfectly made coffees sat on the rickety table between them. People moved around their table, quietly talking. Calm. Joyful. It was idyllic.

She tilted her head back, basking in the fresh air; so missed after having spent so much time indoors, hiding.

“Have you thought any more about what you’ll do? Job-wise?” Paul asked her.

“Honestly, I haven’t had much time to think about it,” Christine answered. “But I do think a career change might be in order.” She had thought that becoming an Information Analyst sounded well within her capabilities, but she hadn’t started updating her résumé or looking for positions. She did know that this time she’d be looking for something long-term and stable.

She’d immediately tendered her resignation to the two Mr. Disiks after the younger had been arrested for assaulting them. The idea of leaving the elder Mr. Disik on his own hurt her, and she was still tempted to take up the job again to give him some support. But the thought of walking back into that life, one that had nearly caused so much destruction, was abhorrent to her. And it wasn’t as if she’d been happy with it, regardless. She needed to think of herself first.

Christine had been far too busy with other things to give any serious thought to the future. She and Paul had spent much of the last few weeks moving out of Station Alpha and into Christine’s house on the outskirts of the city. Paul, Zack, and Sam had installed a heavy-duty alarm system for her, so no one could ever sneak up on the place again. It was a place of comfort once again.

Technically, Paul still had his apartment at Reem Tower, but he hadn’t spent much time there. Christine was in the process of researching how to make her home more accessible for him, and had already ordered some things online and been in touch with a few contractors.

The old Christine, the one before her epiphany hit and rearranged her life, would have said it was too soon. But new Christine wanted to jump in with both feet and see where it took her.

The strong planes of Paul’s face caught her eye as he glanced at the child sitting at the table next to them. So far, her impulsiveness was paying off. For the first time in a long while, she had moved beyond simply content, and was happy.

A shadow fell over the table. Christine glanced up. Her gaze riveted on the man before her.

Old Mr. Disik was a changed man. No longer seeming frail, or lost, his eyes were vibrant and held a hint of amusement. His spine was straight, his clothes were neatly pressed. And Christine noticed for the first time that he had a decent amount of muscle mass left on his frame.

“Mr. Disik?” she asked, stammering over the words. How was it possible?

Paul’s head whipped around, his gaze fixating on the man standing over them. His eyes narrowed, and Christine knew without asking that he was assessing the level of potential threat.

“Hello, Christine. It is lovely to see you again.” Even his voice held no hint of his previous ailment. “May I sit?”

Not knowing what else to do, Christine nodded.

Disik grabbed the chair that she and Paul had pushed aside and dragged it back into position with a loud scrape. He lowered himself into it, keeping his gaze fixed on her. A shiver ran down her spine at the calculation she saw there. Now, she understood the Vovks’ fear of this man.

“You know,” Disik began. “I was sorry to receive your resignation letter. I thought that we could work very well together, now that everything was out in the open.”

“How…?” Christine managed. She felt Paul’s fingers lace between hers.

He considered the question. “Until today, I suspected that you’d known my secret from the beginning. You were so sweet that I thought you must have been trying to catch me off guard, or even kill me with kindness, so to speak.” He paused. “But it is quite clear I was a better actor than I believed.”

Paul leaned forward. “Why go through the act?”

Mr. Disik waved a hand. “To fool my enemies and catch them red-handed.” He said this as if it were both obvious and natural to do such a thing. “I knew that my son was plotting against me, but I needed him to show his cards. And if I needed to put Vovk at a disadvantage, then I could.”

“And me?” Christine asked, finding her voice.

“I had nothing to do with hiring you. My son did the honours, thinking I wouldn’t notice, or could be talked into it. At first, I was furious, but I began to see that you could be useful in your own way. If nothing else, it was the first overt move he’d made against me.”

His eyes were dark, compelling in the way that a well-made horror movie was.

“Why tell me now? Why not just disappear, or go back to your old life?”

He shrugged, and it had an elegant, Gallic quality to it. Christine saw where Jimmy got his smooth demeanour from.

“I have. After all, I haven’t done anything wrong, unlike my son.” From the flash in his eyes, Christine very much doubted that was true. “I just thought I should offer you a job, as well. Properly this time. You’ve proven yourself valuable, and you have some skills that I would like to utilise.”

Christine swallowed, trying to banish the feeling of creepy-crawlies in her throat. “May I think about it?” she replied eventually.

He inclined his head. “Of course.”

She didn’t want the job. Working for such a scheming, underhanded man held no appeal. Besides, she’d already decided to move on to other things. But she also got the impression that the elder Mr. Disik was not a man one said no to. Not without careful consideration.

“I shall leave you to your deliberation,” Disik murmured, moving to stand.

“I have a question,” Paul interrupted. Disik raised a brow in his direction, inquiring. “The money that everyone was after. What happened to it?”

Disik threw his head back with laughter. “Are you after it yourself, now?” Disik asked. The words were playful, but his eyes dropped about ten degrees colder.

“Not at all. But everyone seemed to think that the money would be hidden in cash somewhere. Meeting you now, I can’t help but think you’d be much too savvy for that.”

Disik looked on Paul with a more appreciative gaze. “I’ll give you some advice,” Disik told him, leaning forward. “Invest your money wisely. If you can do it under a false identity, so that no one suspects you have the accounts, then that’s even better.”

With a last wink—so quick Christine thought she may have imagined things—Disik stood up and disappeared.

She and Paul were silent for a moment, digesting what they had just learned.

“Jesus, he’s Machiavellian, isn’t he?” Paul said eventually.

“Yes. And so much creepier than I ever thought possible. How did I miss it?”

Paul squeezed her hand tighter, comforting and solid. “You saw what you expected to see. No harm in that. We all do it.”

Christine nodded, but still felt shaken. She had no doubt that all the stories that the Vovks had told about him were true. She couldn’t quite wrap her head around it.

“Will you take the job?” Paul asked.

Christine shook her head, vehement. “No way. Now that I know he really was a mob boss, goodness knows what he’ll ask me to do.”

They lapsed into a distracted silence. The sounds of the café no longer gave her peace. Chattering and laughing now took on a sinister quality, as if the world was a little off kilter.

Christine stared in the direction he’d disappeared. “Do you think we’ll see him again?” she asked softly. Paul heard her even over the noise of the crowd.

“I doubt it. But if he resurfaces, you won’t be alone.”

Christine tore her eyes away from the crowd and fixed them on him. He smiled, reassuring, and Christine felt her troubles melt away.

Trust. A partnership. That was how it should be.

The End

Turn over for an excerpt from

Guarding Sierra: (Soldiering On #2)

Sierra Livingston knows there is someone stalking her. Watching. Waiting. Biding their time. But for what, she doesn’t want to stick around to find out. Thankfully, she knows just who to call.

Blake has never been one to sit still. He’s still recovering from the gunshot he received during his last job with Soldiering On, but he’s not about to let that stop him from protecting a woman in need. Besides, he has to prove to his boss that he’s still capable, or he’ll be forced into his worst nightmare: a desk job.

But neither of them count on their explosive sexual chemistry. Apart, they risk endangering Sierra’s life. But together, there might be an even deeper threat...to their hearts.

The roses were the colour of blood.

That was Sierra’s first thought when she saw the bouquet sitting innocuously in the hallway in front of her apartment door. The splash of scarlet was particularly vibrant against the two-toned grey of the walls.

She wondered if
he
had intended that.

Blood roared in her ears as she took a hesitant step forward. She didn’t want to get close. The rich array of flowers might have been a hissing snake for all she cared. She didn’t want to touch them.

As she got closer, her heart pounding relentlessly in her chest, she noticed the dark curl at the edge of the petals. The roses had obviously been sitting out there for a few hours. She hoped that meant he wasn’t nearby.

Maybe they weren’t even from him
.

Sierra considered this thought. Pulling out her phone, still eyeing the bouquet nervously, she texted Gary. The two had gone out on a few dates recently before deciding to end it amicably. They both knew there was no chemistry there.

Did you send me flowers?
She asked him. Nausea swamped her. She wanted to flee, but knew that was ridiculous. If she couldn’t face a bunch of flowers, then what good was she? Her nerves had been too highly strung the last year. Ratcheted up as she vacillated between being sure she was being stalked, to being certain that it was all in her head. Her paranoia was pushing her closer to the edge.

Gary texted back almost immediately.
No. Should I have?

Tension tightened in her gut, tighter now. Sweat broke out on her neck.

No
.
Thanks.
It was all she could manage.

She had to know.

In a sudden rush, Sierra stepped forward and crouch down near the flowers. Her breathing was too shallow. Dizziness teased the edges of her consciousness. She deliberately took a deep breath, and reached out to touch a petal.

The world didn’t end, the building didn’t come crashing down. She was still alive. They were just flowers, and she felt increasingly stupid about her fear.

No turning back now.

The dam had broken once she’d touched the rose, so Sierra searched the bouquet for any note or card that might have been left. Nothing.

A sharp prick lanced through her finger and she reared back. Blood welled from a small cut on the pad of her index finger, sliding over the paleness of her skin. She glanced at the bouquet, looking closer without touching.

All the roses still had their thorns.

She stumbled back, landing with a thump on her butt and scooting away to the opposite side of the wide hallway. Not far enough. If she stretched out her stockinged legs in front of her, they’d knock the pot over.

Those roses hadn’t come from a commercial florist. If they had, they would have trimmed the thorns off. Either the florist who sent them was sloppy at their job, or her stalker had gone to a lot of trouble to acquire roses with the thorns still attached.

Horror slammed into her. This was the most forward her stalker had been. Until now, for an entire year, she’d been unsure that he existed. But now, surely, this was proof. She wasn’t going insane. He was real, and he was a threat. An escalating threat.

Behind the horror welled a deep pit of fury. How dare he? How dare he terrorise her like this, make her question her sanity.

In a fit of bravery, Sierra scooped up the bouquet and strode to the window at the end of the hall. She’d lost her heels somewhere in her shock, so she padded softly in her stockings, sinking into the thick, expensive carpet.

She reached the window and looked for a way to open it. Nothing. It was just a pane of glass in the wall, not an operational window. Damn it. She was sure it was supposed to be a security measure, but it was inconvenient in her current rage.

Coasting on her fury, Sierra jogged to the elevator. A few petals slipped from the buds, drifting to the floor to make a trail behind her. She ignored them. Someone would clean them up, but for now she just needed to get this evil symbol out of her domain.

By the time the elevator had reached the ground floor, Sierra was trembling. Not entirely from anger, either. Fear had crept back in. A lump had settled in her throat.

She carried the bouquet towards the spinning doors at the front of the lobby. A thought occurred to her, and she stopped in front of the security desk.

“Sid?” she greeted the middle-aged security guard. He glanced up, a frown marring his brow as he looked at her. She must look a fright compared to her usual impeccable appearance. She tried to smile reassuringly. “Were you on duty when these flowers were delivered?”

Sid shook his head slowly, not taking his eyes off her.

She tried again. “When did your shift start?”

“I started at midday. My shift’s nearly over now.” She glanced up at the clock ticking above his head, the sound loud in the quiet lobby. It was nearly 9pm.

“You must have left this desk at some point during the day?”

He frowned at her. “Sure, but I’m allowed toilet breaks. It’s in my contract.” He sounded defensive, and Sierra felt immediately guilty. She hadn’t wanted to accuse him of anything.

“It’s okay, I just wanted to know who might have dropped these off. There’s no card.” She tried to look harmless. Instead, she felt like she was tipping over the edge into insanity.

“Oh.” He eyed her again. “Maybe they slipped in when I was in the john,” he conceded.

“Maybe,” she agreed, then turned away. She didn’t want to press the issue further.

She continued outside the building and strode over to the public bin on the sidewalk in front of the building next door. Her stockings were ruined, and her feet no doubt filthy, but she couldn’t bring herself to care.

The thud of the pot hitting the bottom of the bin was the most satisfying sound she’d heard all day. The tension in her chest loosened just enough for her to breathe.

But it wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.

She made her way back up to her apartment, shivering as she caught sight of the rose petals still littering the corridor.

She poured herself a large glass of white wine and drank it far faster than she normally would have done. Particularly on an empty stomach. But she’d needed something to steady her nerves.

She needed help. She could admit that now. If he was escalating, then she could no longer pretend that he wasn’t real. Her instincts had been right all along.

Thankfully, she knew just the person to call.