Ultimate Kill (Book 1 Ultimate CORE Trilogy) (CORE Series) (42 page)

She cupped his face and brought their lips together. Poured her own love and longing into a kiss that would forever remain in her memory. This moment marked a new beginning between them. Her past or his—no longer mattered. And she couldn’t wait for their future to begin.
 

After a long, lingering kiss, he moved their bodies until they lay on the center of the bed. He pulled the sheet and comforter over them, then cocooned her against his chest. His heart beat along her cheek, while his breathing began to return to normal. Loving the hard contours, she feathered her fingers through the dark dusting of hair, then rested her palm on his solid chest.
 

“So, Brunhilde,” he began, squeezing her closer and kissing the top of her head. “I know we were multitasking a few minutes ago, but if I recall correctly, you said always when I asked you to stay with me.”

She grinned against his pectoral muscle and gave his chest hair a slight tug. “I would’ve said anything at that moment.”

He let out a chuckle and she shifted her head to look at him. Grinning, he ran his fingertips along her cheek. “I want to be with you,” he said, his grin fading, his eyes filled with a mixture of determination and uncertainty.

She never wanted him to ever be uncertain about anything when it came to them. She loved him. Trusted him. Wanted to be with him.
 

Always.
 

“I want to be with you, too,” she said, caressing his chest. He knew everything about her past, had endured and accepted why she’d lied to him, and he still loved her. If they were going to begin anew, there was still one last thing she needed to tell him. While she doubted her secret would change how he felt about her, if they were going to make a fresh start, they’d do it the right way. No more secrets.

“Then you’ll come to Chicago?” he asked, hopeful.

She nodded. “For a while. I’ll have to tell my principal what’s happened. I’m not sure if the school will want me to stay on, but I’m not comfortable leaving them high and dry without a nurse.”

“And from there?” he asked, drawing circles along her upper arms with his fingers.

“I’ve always loved Chicago.”

“That’s good, because I happen to live there.”

She forced a smile, while her stomach knotted with nervousness. “There’s still something else.”

“If you’re worried about finding a job, take your time. Ian pays me well, so you don’t have to rush into anything.”

“It’s not that.”

His face hardened. “I told you I don’t want to talk about him.”

She had no choice, not if she were going to do this right the second time around. “I have to tell you this,” she said, shifting her body until they were chest to breast. “I…on the jet to Norfolk, I told you I couldn’t have children.”

“And I told you what matters to me is being with you, not the kids you could give me. That’s not why I fell in love with you.”

Damn, could he make this any harder? “I remember. And you have no idea how much that meant to me. When we were together and used to talk about having a family, I would picture a houseful of kids, little dark haired, dark eyed boys that were the spitting image of you.”

“And beautiful little bossy girls that were the spitting image of their mother,” he said with a sad smile.

“Yeah,” she said, blinking back tears. God, how she’d wanted that life. Only
he
had taken it away. “When I got the result from my doctor and found out that wasn’t a possibility, I was devastated. I worried how you’d react—”

“Hey.” He rubbed her shoulder. “I told you it’s okay.”

“It’s not okay. If I couldn’t have children because my body wasn’t made right, that would have been one thing.” She kissed his chest, looking for the strength to admit the truth. When she lifted her head and met his eyes, she found it.
 

“I told you I met Christian when I was working as a cocktail waitress. I was nineteen, going to school, working my butt off. He was, believe it or not, very charming and I was very attracted to him. Before Christian, the guys I dated were from high school. They were young and immature. Christian was older and sophisticated. He’d take me to nice restaurants, buy me flowers…he made me feel special. I was really into him, but kept telling myself this wouldn’t last. Between his wealth and family connections, I couldn’t imagine our relationship going anywhere. I also told myself to enjoy the moment and made the mistake of having sex with him. Only once, because that was enough. I’m not going to get into the details. Let’s just say I didn’t enjoy it and never wanted him touching me again.”

Which was an understatement. She loved it when Jake was a little rough and domineering during sex. She also trusted him and knew he’d never hurt her. The night she’d had sex with Christian, he’d taken dominance to a violent level. She might have gone to him as a willing partner, but when he’d begun to hurt her, she’d begged him to stop. He wouldn’t. Instead, he’d become even more sadistic. As if her cries and pleas only fueled his desire to control her.
 

Jake gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “You don’t have to tell me this.”

“Actually, I do. You know everything else, and this is something that affects both of us.” She drew in a fortifying breath. “After that horrible night with Christian, I refused to see him again. He didn’t like it. He called constantly, would show up at my apartment, at the club where I worked or catch me on campus when I was rushing to get to class. I saw the callous man lurking beneath the good looks, charm and money and didn’t believe his apologies or his excuses. Then a couple of months later I found out I was pregnant.”

She searched Jake’s eyes looking for disappointment or disgust. Instead she found a combination of sympathy and anger. “At the time, I didn’t realize he had the Columbian following me. Christian found out I was pregnant, and without asking me what I planned to do, he took it upon himself to decide for me.”

Jake’s jaw tightened and his body tensed. Beneath her palms, his heart rate accelerated.
 

“I came home from school in the afternoon and the next thing I remember was waking up in a cold cellar, strapped to a table.”

Leaning his head against the pillow, Jake ran a hand over his face. After a moment, he looked at her, the rage and horror in his eyes contradicting the way he continued to gently massage her shoulder. “He’s the reason you can’t have children,” he said, his voice low and filled with loathing.

She nodded. “Christian brought in a man he claimed was a retired doctor, then stood and watched as the doctor and Ric gave me an abortion. Afterward, Christian took me back to my apartment. He told me to not bother going to the police, because it would be my word against his. And he was right. I had no proof that I was carrying his baby.”

“You were obviously drugged. The police—”

“I know where you’re going with this. The night it happened…I was bleeding badly. My main concern was to get to the hospital. I explained to the ER doctor what had happened. After he stopped the bleeding and made sure I’d be okay, he ran a tox screen and later found chloroform in my system. The doctor and nurses encouraged me to call the police. Once I was moved to a hospital room and had time to think, I decided they were right. When I was about to call for a nurse to help me contact the police, a man wearing scrubs and pushing a cart filled with flowers, came in the room. When he stepped from behind the flowers and I saw Ric’s face, I knew going to the police wasn’t an option.”

“What did Ric do to you?” he asked, his tone deadly.

“Threatened and taunted me. He made it clear that Christian’s team of attorneys would destroy me and my family. They’d make me out to be a money grubbing slut, say that the baby could have been any man’s and that I was crazy enough to do this to myself. After all, I was going to nursing school and knew my way around the human body.”

“Bullshit.”

“Of course it was, but I was scared and knew Ric was right. Rather than drag my family into my problems with Christian, and drag my name through the press by making accusations, I let it go. I had my regular doctor check me and while she said I had scar tissue, she thought I’d be okay. Unfortunately, she was wrong.”

When Jake didn’t say anything, she blew out a stream of breath. “Now you know everything. I’d rather you find out now, from me, than during the trial.”

“You told the Feds?”

“I told them everything.”

“Virginia gives Death Row inmates the option of lethal injection or the electric chair,” he said, his eyes narrowing as he looked away from her. “Either one would be too easy for the bastard.” Barely glancing at her, he kissed the top of her head. “Thanks for telling me. I know that had to have been hard for you.”

After giving her shoulder a soft pat, he separated their bodies and swung his legs over the side of the bed. As he stretched, she stared at his back, at the scars from where the shrapnel had been removed after he’d been caught in an explosion while in Iraq. “Why don’t you take a nap?” He turned and rested a hand on her hip. “I’ll see if I can find something to make for lunch.”

She pulled the comforter to her chin. “Sure, sounds good,” she said, hurt, confused and disappointed. “Give me an hour.”

He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Love you,” he whispered against her ear, then he pushed off the bed. Once he’d gathered his clothes and left the room, she flipped onto her back and wiped the tears from her face.
 

Thanks for telling me. I know that had to have been hard for you.

Hell, yeah, it had been hard. She hadn’t expected him to spout out a bunch of philosophical or emotional crap to try and make her feel better, but she sure as hell had expected more than a
thanks for telling me
. That’s something she’d say to a server after they told her about the soup of the day.
 

Thanks for telling me.

How about a couple words of comfort? How about letting her know this didn’t change anything between them? With the way he’d acted, she had the impression that knowing she’d not only willingly had sex with Christian, but that he’d forced her to have an abortion obviously didn’t settle well with Jake. Although she understood, he didn’t have to be so damned blasé about it. Upset or not, he could have given her an encouraging word or two.

Unable to close her eyes without reliving their conversation, she slid off the bed and headed into the bathroom to shower. She loved Jake, and once she spoke with her principal about her job, she still planned to go to Chicago. She’d keep her house in Woodbine, though. At least for a little while. If
thanks for telling me
was Jake’s idea of being supportive, especially during the trial when all of her secrets were aired, she might have to take a break from him.
 

Jake might love her and want them to have each other’s back, but she needed him to show it. After so many years of running and worrying, of dealing with her past on her own, she needed to be sure she could rely on him in every sense.
 

Otherwise there would be no future for them.

Chapter 17

CHRISTIAN EXITED OFF Georgia’s US 17 and pulled into a one pump gas station. He looked at the paint peeling off the small storefront, the weathered billboard advertising bait and Coca-Cola, then to the gas pump. What a shithole. He slid out of the Ford Focus and stretched. Because he wasn’t supposed to leave Norfolk, he hadn’t been able to rent a car. And because all of his vehicles were extremely expensive and noteworthy, he hadn’t wanted to take one of them, either. Fortunately, Vlad had left his car behind when he’d gone with Santiago and the twins last week. Unfortunately, the car was small and compact. How the hell Vlad had fit inside, he didn’t know.
 

“Afternoon,” a man called.

Christian glanced over and refrained from rolling his eyes. Typical redneck. Wearing faded, stained coveralls, and a cheap mesh ball cap that made his head look at least four inches taller, the old man approached, a slight limp in his step.
 

“Does this thing work?” Christian asked, pointing to the rusty gas pump that looked as if it had been there since the 1970s.
 

“Sure does,” the old man said, then spit onto the cracked asphalt. Using the back of his hand, he wiped at his long, white beard. “Cash only.”

He pulled out his wallet and handed the man a fifty dollar bill. “Obviously.”

After shoving the fifty into his pocket, the man limped to the pump. “Want me to wash your windows?” he asked and unscrewed the Ford’s gas cap.

“No.”

“Only take a minute or two. Your windshield’s a daggone bug cemetery.”

“How far to Woodbine?” Christian asked, not interested in being at this filthy excuse for a gas station one minute longer than necessary.

“About forty-five minutes,” the old man replied, removing the nozzle from the pump. “Heading there to do some fishing?”
 

Christian watched the numbers on the pump slowly turn. One number at a fucking time. “Hunting. I also heard Woodbine has a beautiful garden and offers tours.”

“Don’t know.” The man turned his head and spat. “Not much into flowers.”

He smiled. “And I’m rather partial to roses.”