You Only Love Twice (2 page)

The jihadists caught Jamie with an Army unit after their
convoy
had been hit
by an IED. Jamie had been working
on tracking a terrorist sect using a group of Army grunts as cover.

It hadn’t been cover enough.

Her precious husband
had been brutally
killed
along with every single one of his teammates.

All except for one. When Ten had finally found the place
where Jamie
had been held and murdered,
there had only
been one of the soldiers left. Jesse Murdoch. Why had he survived when her husband
had been murdered
?

Did it even matter since he was gone? It was so much easier
to lie here. She didn’t want to eat, didn’t want to drink. She’d even stopped
hurting. Her body was utterly numb.

She didn’t move, didn’t react because it didn’t matter.

“Phoebe?”

She wanted him to go away. If she ignored him, maybe he
would leave. It hadn’t been real until she’d gotten Jamie’s body back. For a
year, she’d been able to pretend that he was simply on another job. The whole
time they’d been married, they had both worked for the Agency. They often spent
more time apart than together, so it was easy to fool herself. It had only been
very recently that they had talked about getting out, settling down and
starting a family. Even after they had the intelligence that stated he
’d been captured
, she’d been able to pretend that Jamie
would be home as soon as the Agency could arrange it.

But the world was changing and the jihadists were more
serious. It wasn’t about ransom money now. It was about ideals, and they
recruited more and more soldiers when they killed Westerners.

Ten had been the one to ID Jamie’s body.

Why had Jesse Murdoch survived? Some people thought he sold
the rest of them out. Had he sold Jamie out?

She hoped Jesse Murdoch died a rough death.

“Goddamn it, look at me. You are not this sad sack bitch who
simply fades away because something bad happens.”

That got her sitting up. “Something bad?”

Ten was a son of bitch who always played things down.
Always. He’d done it since they were kids. He’d done it when their father had a
heart attack and died. She wasn’t about to let him do it now.

He leaned in. “Yeah. Do you think this is what Jamie would
want for you? Do you think he would want you to lay here and die because you
wouldn’t get up and fucking fight?”

“Fight? Who do you want me to fight, Ten? Are you ready to
send me to Iraq? Because I’m ready to go.” It was everything she wanted. She
could find the group that killed her husband and rain hellfire on all of them.

But it was harder than that. She was a woman. She’d worked
in intelligence for years but she’d been in Asia and Europe. Her father had
kept her out of the real war zones. She’d lived on and off for years in China,
working on the political situation there and in Japan and Korea.

For the spy it had been a cushy assignment. Despite tensions
with China, they always played the game. She
’d been caught
once and spent a few nights in a Shandong prison
. Her interrogation had
included a nasty bit of torture, but it hadn’t been long before they’d traded
her for a Chinese spy. She’d been back at work two weeks later. The Middle East
was different. There were no rules to the spy game there, and she’d always
known that Jamie was in danger.

Jamie had gone with Ten. Their father had sent the boys into
danger time and time again even as they’d protected her. When Ten took over
their father’s job, Jamie had insisted on keeping his assignment despite the
fact Ten had given him an out. She’d married Jamie five years before and every
moment they’d had together had been precious. Every private day had been a
blessing.

Now she knew that Jamie had the easier road. He didn’t have
to live knowing he wouldn’t see her again. He didn’t have to move forward
knowing he wouldn’t love again. God, he’d likely died thinking that he was leaving
a son behind. The last time she’d talked to him she’d thought she was pregnant.
By the time she realized her mistake, he
’d been taken
.

Stupid girl. She was still the same stupid girl who screwed
up everything good in her life.

Ten got to one knee, his deep green eyes seeking out hers.
Her young adulthood rushed back in and she couldn’t help but remember all the
days she and Jamie and Ten had spent together. Every good day of her life
had been spent
with them. Ten was her family.

“I can’t possibly feel what you feel, sister.” He put a hand
on her knee. “I know you miss him. I do, too. God, I miss him. My whole damn
life I’ve had you and Jamie. I can’t lose you, too.”

His words started to play at her conscience. Jamie had
adored Ten. It had been the three of them for so long.

What would Ten do if they were both gone? He’d been alone
for years—just like she had, and then he’d had a family. She still had a
brother. She still had Ten.

“I don’t want to go on.” It felt good to admit it.

Ten lost his perpetual cool. His handsome face screwed up
and tears flushed from those gorgeous eyes. “Please don’t leave me. I can’t be
alone again, Phoebe. I love you. I know I’m not Jamie and it’s not the same,
but I do love you. You’re the only person I love in the whole damn world now
that Jamie and Dad are gone.”

It had been the three of them burying their adopted father
when his fierce heart had betrayed them all. God, she missed Franklin Grant.

Did she owe it to them all to go on? Because it would be so
much easier to take a few too many sleeping pills and float away. It was so
easy to get them. Everyone wanted her to sleep and rest and not feel. Everyone
except Ten.

Days she’d spent in this purgatory, but Ten was getting to
her.

“What would I do?” She didn’t know a life outside of the
Agency.

“Work for me. I have a place for you to go. It’s a long-term
undercover op. It’s cushy, sweetie, but it’s so necessary. It could be years
you spend there.”

She didn’t want to do it.

“Please, Phoebe. I don’t trust anyone else to take on
Taggart.”

She couldn’t help but sit up a little straighter at the very
name. “Ian Taggart?”

He was a legend. He was a problem. He was a fine balance
that she would have to walk. Intriguing. Even in her grief, she found the idea
of playing the game with Taggart deeply intriguing.

“Yes. He’s got connections that go around the world and
while I like the man, I have to keep an eye on him. There’s something else.
There’s a situation that’s starting up in Florida.”

She felt her jaw firm, her blood chilling. There was only
one situation either of them cared about right now. “Murdoch?”

Ten nodded. “I’ve been tracking him and he’s working with
some FBI agent out of DC, though he recently took a job in St. Augustine at one
of those fet clubs.”

“You think he has something to do with Taggart?” Taggart was
knee-deep in the BDSM lifestyle. She’d read all about it in his files. It
didn’t appeal to her at all. Jamie had been tender, so tender with her. He
would never have hit her, never have tied her up so she couldn’t fight back.
Ten always said Taggart was a good man, but he liked to hit the women he had
sex with so that made Phoebe doubt it. Some people in the Agency still believed
that Taggart had murdered his wife.

It shouldn’t surprise her Murdoch was into the same shit.

Ten ran a hand over his hair, a sure sign that he was
frustrated. “It’s a complex situation and I still don’t understand the whole of
it. You’re better at patterns than I am.”

“I can look at the file for you.”

“It’s still early, but someone is playing a game and I think
I might have figured out who it is. I think Taggart’s wife is still alive and
somehow she’s gotten tangled up with my investigation into Murdoch.”

So maybe Taggart wasn’t a killer. He also wasn’t Agency.
“You put too much faith in him. He left you a long time ago, Ten. He’s on his
own and he couldn’t care less about you or the job we do.”

She’d never been in a room with the man, but she’d always
resented him because no matter what Ten said, she knew Taggart’s leaving the
Agency had hurt Ten. Ten had recruited the man, trained him and he’d walked
away.

“You’re wrong, Phoebe, but I’ll let you form your own
opinions of the man. I feel like shit not telling him about Charlotte, though.
As far as I can tell, she’s working on something to do with McKay and his
ex-wife. It’s a big old clusterfuck and Taggart won’t see it coming. They’re on
a collision course.”

“You can’t tell Taggart a damn thing.” He owed his loyalty
to Jamie not Ian Taggart. For the first time in hours, she stood and felt her
blood starting to thrum through her system. Jamie might still need her. “If
this gets us close to Jesse Murdoch, then you keep Taggart in the dark. No one
outside the Agency knows Jamie died in Iraq.”

“I’ve kept his cover. As far as Tag knows, Jamie was just a
friend of mine and he died in a Humvee accident while training rebels along the
Pakistan/Afghanistan border. No one wants it to get out that some of our
operatives are posing as soldiers.”

Her mind started working again, a tiny bit of the fog of
grief clearing out. “You work it from Murdoch’s end and I’ll keep an eye on
Taggart and his group.”

McKay-Taggart Security was rapidly becoming one of the
country’s premiere security providers. They
were made up
of ex-Special Forces and ex-FBI.

For the first time in days, Ten smiled. “I am so glad to
hear you say that.”

She had to make one thing clear. “You won’t tell Taggart.”

His smile died, but he nodded. “No. I’ll keep quiet. He’s my
friend, but Jamie was my brother. We have to figure out if Murdoch turned on him.”

“If he did, he’s mine, Ten.” She would seek retribution on
the man who betrayed her husband. It didn’t matter why he’d done it—whether out
of greed or cowardice. Somehow Murdoch had been left untouched while everyone
else died. It wasn’t fair.

Sometimes life wasn’t fair. Sometimes karma didn’t work.

But Phoebe did.

She sat back down and Ten’s hand found hers. They stayed
that way for the longest time, until the light died and night fell.

When she stood back up, she knew it was time to go to work.

One Year Later

Dallas, TX

Jesse Murdoch sat back in his chair and thought about
looking around for the cameras because sometimes the boys liked to play pranks
on each other. Like the time Big Tag had filled Adam’s office with balloons. It
had seemed like such a lighthearted little trick until Adam had popped the
first sucker and discovered they
had all been painstakingly
filled
with lemon pudding. It had been retribution for Adam eating the
last of Ian’s beloved lemon-filled donuts, and it was a video they still played
at office parties from time to time, along with the video of Eve finding the
psychotic clown Halloween decoration in her closet and losing her shit and
Grace trying to track down a mouse only to discover it was being radio
controlled by her husband who—according to that tape—was never sleeping in
their bed again.

So when Simon sat him down in the conference room and
started his speech about Phoebe Graham being a spy, he’d looked for the candid
camera.

He knew he had a reputation for not being the brightest bulb
in the bunch, but damn, did they really think he was that stupid?

“Sure, Phoebe’s a spy. I always knew it.” Sometimes it was
best to go along with these things. It helped him to fit in. Of course once the
gig was up, he was going to find a way to get Si back. His brain was already
working on how he could replace every single one of Simon’s slick suits with
unitards. Bright-pink ones.

Ian leaned forward. “Jesse, I need you to take this
seriously.”

Big Tag was good at never cracking up during a prank.
“Absolutely.”

Alex McKay sighed. “He’s going to need proof. God knows I
did.”

“Yes, I need proof.” He couldn’t wait to see what they’d
done. Phoebe would think it was a hoot.

And maybe it would make her laugh. Maybe if he could find a
way to make her laugh, she might want to move past the “friends” stage they’d
been stuck in forever. If he could find a way to get through the veil of sorrow
he so often felt from her, maybe she would see how much he cared, how much he
wanted to make her happy.

Simon took off his suit coat and hung it over his chair as
he started to pace. They were really playing this for all it was worth. He
looked every bit the concerned friend. “I didn’t want to do this today, not
with the baby shower and all.”

Alex held up a hand. “It’s fine, Simon. Chelsea thinks
something’s going down today and we’re going to trust your wife. Besides, other
than Chelsea, we’re trying to keep the women out of this. If we can handle it
quietly, it’s all for the better. The baby shower is keeping them occupied.
Phoebe, too.”

“Adam and Jake are keeping an eye on her. They’ve been
tailing her for days,” Ian said, his voice grim. He turned to Jesse. “I hate to
do this to you, and you have to know if I thought I could get rid of her
without you knowing about it, I would do it. I know what it feels like, man.”

Jesse sat up because not even for a prank would Ian Taggart
talk about his feelings. “You’re joking, right?”

His gut was suddenly in a knot.

“I wish I was,” Big Tag replied. “I have to apologize
because I’m the one who approved her hire.”

“Could we save the recriminations until after Jesse knows
the truth?” Simon asked.

It was stupid. This whole thing was some sort of
misunderstanding because there was zero chance that Phoebe Graham was anything
but a sweet, sexy, caring woman with an unfortunate addiction to Harry Potter.

Except the one time he’d offered to take her to Harry Potter
World, she’d cried and hadn’t talked to him for a day. He’d thought it would be
a way to please her, but she’d shut him out and wouldn’t tell him why.

He’d actually started to wonder if she went out with him
because she was a woman who struggled to say no. She wasn’t ever going to
return his affection, but she certainly wasn’t some spy.

“It was the way she moved,” Simon said. “I never paid much
attention to her. I think she was too relaxed that night when we had to flee
from The Collective.”

It had been months before. Simon had called and given him
the code words that basically told Jesse to get his ass in gear because shit
was going down. He’d been on a date with Phoebe. Well, he called them dates.
Once, he’d heard her tell Charlotte Taggart that they weren’t dating. It felt
like dating to him. He’d bundled her up and picked up Simon and Chelsea in time
to avoid what would have been Simon’s arrest on trumped up murder charges. He’d
dropped Phoebe off at her place and then they’d been on the run.

“What are you talking about? How does she move? Half the
time I’m trying to make sure she doesn’t break her leg or something.” She was
charmingly klutzy. He hated to admit it, but he kind of liked it when she
stumbled because he always managed to catch her. She was smarter than him, but
he could protect her. It was probably the only thing in the world he had to
give her.

He’d been a grunt during his service days, and even here at
McKay-Taggart he knew his real value was the fact that he was willing to step
in front of a bullet for his brothers or their wives. He didn’t mind being the
one to protect Phoebe.

“It’s all an act. Jake took some video of her when she
didn’t think anyone was watching. She
’s well trained
.
I would suspect she’s taken more than one form of martial arts. Did you know
she takes a Krav Maga class on Saturdays?” Simon asked.

“So she wants to be able to defend herself.” He thought that
was a good idea.

“Jake couldn’t roll tape there, but he caught a glimpse and
said she could practically teach the class herself,” Simon replied.

“In long-term cover these are the things that ruin an operative,”
Ian mused. “She’s trying to hold on to one thing that makes her who she was
before she took the assignment. She’s trying desperately to stay strong while
she looks weak. She should never have taken that class. She only signed up for
it three months ago. I would be very interested to know what pushed her to do
it. It’s reckless for a woman who’s made all the right moves so far.”

“Or she’s a woman who wants to defend herself. That’s not a
crime. It’s smart.” They were being paranoid.

“Chelsea hasn’t been able to break her cover yet. Adam gave
it a shot, too. Do you know what kind of backing it takes to imbed a false
identity so well those two can’t break it?” Simon asked.

“So we have to assume she’s an operative either for a
foreign entity or something more nefarious,” McKay added. “Did you run her past
Damon?”

Tag nodded. “None of his MI6 contacts were willing to say
they know her, but that doesn’t mean shit. None of Damon’s new guys could ID
her. I think we have to look at worst-case scenarios here.”

“Since when do you not go there?” McKay asked with a shake
of his head. “You always go to the worst-case scenario first. So she’s either a
foreign operative or a Collective plant.”

They were leaving out a scenario. “Or you’re wrong about
her.”

McKay looked at him with sympathy. Fuck, but he hated
being pitied
. “We’re not wrong.”

He was starting to get a little mad. It was obvious to him
that they’d been investigating his girl behind his back. She might not have
slept with him, but he still cared about her, protected her. She would never
wear his collar, but he had some claim on her. They should have told him the
minute they had suspicions, but no, he was poor Jesse who got himself fucked up
in the war. They were never going to take him seriously.

Well, buddy, why would they? You’re the one who goes
crazy from time to time and kills a bad guy with your bare teeth. Chelsea is
likely still having nightmares about that. Do you really think they trust you?

Phoebe was the only one who took him seriously. She was always
asking about his job and what his thought processes were. Hell, he would bet
she was the only one in the world who actually imagined he
had
a
thought process.

“Jesse, I get it, man. You care about her.” Tag was staring
at him. “She’s got you by the balls, but I need you to think clearly and I need
you to hear Simon out. He didn’t do this because he wanted to hurt you. He did
this because you’re his partner. We’re doing this because we’re your brothers,
and you know how I feel about that.”

“Fine.” They were putting him in a corner. He wasn’t ready
to walk away. He needed this job. Shit. He needed them. McKay-Taggart was the
first family he’d ever really had. His father had died before he’d been born
and his mother had dumped him on his granddad’s porch not long after. His
grandfather had been a mean son of a bitch who cared way more for his cattle
than his only grandson. He’d fit into his Army unit, but they were all gone
now. He wasn’t ready to lose this. “What makes you think she isn’t exactly who
she says she is?”

“How did they know, Jesse? How did The Collective and Ten
know where we were that night?” Simon asked.

He could come up with a couple of scenarios. “They could
track us on traffic cams.”

“Possibly, but we were careful to get into a neighborhood
that was unlikely to have cameras,” Simon reminded him. “Now it is possible
that one of the groups after us that particular night searched until they found
us the next morning, but then I need an explanation on why your vehicle was
tagged.”

“What?” He’d gotten his Jeep back about a week after they’d
returned from Italy. “My Jeep didn’t have a tag on it. If it does now, it was
probably put there after the motel fight.”

They
’d been forced
to leave it in
the motel parking lot. It would have been easy for someone to place a tracking
device on it then.

“You also have bugs all over your apartment.” Simon’s voice
was tight. “How many people have you let in? Alex installed your security
system himself. Chelsea and I spend a bit of time there. Who else?”

He couldn’t quite meet Simon’s eyes because there was only
one answer to that question. Jesse didn’t have parties. He didn’t have friends
outside of work. His whole life
was spent
at that sad
little apartment or at work or on the occasional date with Phoebe that sometimes
ended with them watching TV at his place.

He remembered the first night they’d gone back to his
apartment. He’d been surprised because she didn’t seem to want to be alone with
him. He’d gotten a little excited, his cock hardening at the thought of getting
her into bed. He’d planned the whole seduction out in his head as they’d driven
to his building. Thankfully his years in the military had forced a routine
cleanliness into his life so he hadn’t had to worry about his place being a
mess. Not that there was much to mess up. He had a TV and a sofa and Grace and
Avery had taken him out to buy him all the things he needed for a rudimentary
kitchen. Serena had given him a couple of sets of sheets. She’d been excited
about the thread count or something, but he could have told her that anything
felt like paradise after sleeping in a rat-infested hellhole for months.

He’d been happy about that damn thread count though when
he’d thought Phoebe would be sleeping on it. But the minute they’d gotten to
his place, she’d pulled out the Harry Potter DVDs.

I want to share this with you. Please, Jesse.

Yep, he’d fallen asleep halfway through the first one.

It would have been so easy for her to slip off the couch and
plant her bugs. Easy for her to have gone through his pathetic things so she
could get a better perspective on how to handle him.

Had she been listening to him for months? Did she hear the
way he cried at night when the nightmares got to be too much? Did she hear the
way he paced the floor and told himself over and over again that it was all a
dream and he was here and he was Jesse Murdoch. He was Jesse. He wasn’t the man
they tried to turn him into.

“I told you we should have brought Kai into this,” Alex
whispered furiously Tag’s way.

“Kai isn’t a member of this team,” Tag pointed out. “And
he’s also out of town. He’s in DC for the week.”

Kai Ferguson was his therapist. He was a psychiatrist
specializing in extreme PTSD. Ian had said he’d brought Kai in to help with
Sanctum because Eve didn’t have time to go through all the applicants and keep
up evaluations on members, but Jesse knew the truth. Tag had basically bought
Kai in an attempt to see if he could fix Jesse.

“I don’t need Kai.” He spent hours and hours with Kai and he
didn’t seem any closer to being normal. He still had the dreams and he still
felt the beast deep in his gut always, always waiting to come up.

He still heard that voice. Dark and rich. Foreign.

You are my creature. You belong to me and you do my
bidding. You’re my dog.