Chapter Twenty-Eight
Detective Bancroft flipped his notebook shut and glanced over at his partner as he leaned forward in his seat. I let out a sigh of relief, thinking this was over. I'd done my bit and they would leave me alone.
He nodded at his partner, giving her a knowing smile as she stood. Instead of leaving though, she came to sit next to me on the sofa.
“We're going to need you to pack a bag.” My gaze flicked between both of them and I sank my teeth into my bottom lip. A hysterical laugh was trying to escape my throat. Was this some weird joke that I didn't get? But she didn't smile. Her wide lips stayed pressed together. Blue eyes serious and intent as they bored into mine.
Releasing my lip, I said, “Why would I need a bag?”
“When you applied for the job I assume you listed this address with the company. For your own safety, we've been asked to get you out of this house.”
Eyes widening as my mouth dropped open, I couldn't stop the laugh that time. “My…what?” Resting her cool hand over mine, she patted it gently.
“It's just a…precaution.”
I shook off her hand. “What's just a precaution? Where are you trying to take me? What's going on?”
“Like I said, it's just a precaution, but we've been asked to move you somewhere safe. Somewhere no one from Cooper Garson will know where you are.”
I scratched my fingernails across the skin of my collarbone until it stung. As they brushed across my necklace I wrapped them around the heart pendant instead. Why didn't they want anyone from Cooper Garson to know where I was? Who would want to know where I was and why?
“Am I in trouble? If I've done something wrong, I didn't mean to…or know that I had.”
“No, you haven't done anything against the law. This is purely as a precaution and for your safety.”
I wrapped my palm around the pendant until the sharp tip dug into it painfully. To keep me safe from whom? Beck? Tony? “To keep me safe from whom?” She gave me an exasperated smile like she was explaining something to a child.
“No one in particular. It's a general precaution, that's all. Best to keep you away from the office for now.”
Well, that would solve the issue of avoiding Beck. “I have a cat,” I blurted out. I shook my head because they wanted to hide me somewhere safe and I was thinking of Beck and Penny. It was all too much. I'd finally lost the plot.
“Do you have a family member or a neighbour you could leave the cat with?” I nodded, thinking of Jean, and hoped she wouldn't mind cat-sitting again. “You can't give them details of where you are going.”
Pursing my lips, I resisted the urge to say I couldn't give them details if I didn't have any.
Later that day, they left me sitting on a lumpy brown sofa with my “guards.” Surrounded by beige walls and a once-cream carpet. They'd left me in the brown house of doom. And I was still no clearer on what the hell was happening. How long would I have to stay there in the house of doom? What was happening at the office? Had they spoken to Beck?
Propping my elbows on my knees, I rested my chin on my hands. Beck. I wondered if I'd ever see him again. Would he be arrested? Whenever I thought about him since that night, my heart tugged in separate directions. Most of it wanted to hate him after what he'd done. But there was still a treacherous part that clung to the Beck I'd thought he was. The Beck I'd made plans with in my head. Spending time with him. Getting to know his family. Weekends spent together with me baking or us in bed.
I let out a sigh and then jumped at the knock on the door. I looked up and one of my guards held out a palm towards me. With his other hand, he pressed a finger to his lips then motioned me towards the kitchen.
Doing as directed, I crept into the kitchen. Slid one of the chairs—beige with a little orange—out from under the dining table and sat down. Voices from behind the closed door of the kitchen filtered through from the living room. The muffled voice of one of the guards and someone else. Then silence. Clearly my guard had dispatched the visitor.
God, how long was I going to be held there? I was going stir crazy already. If they hadn't taken my phone I would have texted Jaz. I missed seeing his cheery face. Was he safe? Would he know what was going on?
The kitchen door opened and I glanced up, eyes ridiculously wide, as the last person I wanted to see sauntered in. He looked tired. Dark hair in disarray as though he'd been tugging at it. A plain black T-shirt stretched across his chest and faded jeans clung to his thighs. My body reacted to the sight of him and I hated myself for still wanting him. I clenched my hands into fists so I didn't do something stupid like reach out to him.
He strode across the kitchen and stopped directly in front of me. Eyes drawn, mouth tight. If he was so unhappy to see me what was he doing here? And why was he here? Clearly my guards didn't think I needed to be protected from him.
I waited for him to say something, having no intention of being the first to speak. Instead, his hand slipped beneath his jacket and pulled out what appeared to be a leather wallet. Flipped it open and threw it onto the table in front of me. A picture of Beck looked back up at me and I threw him a questioning glance.
Hands on his hips he merely nodded his head towards it. Sliding my fingers along the tabletop until they reached the wallet I paused. Then lifted it up so I could read the writing next to the photo. Kyle Becker. Special Operations.
I dropped the ID back on the table. His name wasn't even Kyle Robinson. I blew out a laugh and shook my head.
Becker. Beck. Special Operations? He was what? Undercover? So he was involved with whatever was going on just not how I'd thought. He was…working undercover at Cooper Garson? It didn't matter; he was still married.
Pushing the chair back to leave the kitchen, it squealed across the lino. Beck's palms slapped against the tabletop and I jumped at the noise.
“No. You're not going anywhere until you hear me out. Do you know how many strings I had to pull to get you here? Do you know how many more I had to pull to get them to let me see you?”
Straightening up from the table, he stared at me and I shrank back against the chair. Beck was the reason I was being held in this house? Running a hand through his hair he blew out a breath. His shoulders dropped as his hands rested on his hips again. The lines around his eyes disappeared as his face relaxed and reminded me of the day I met him on the plane. That day seemed so long ago after everything that had happened since. The way he had tried to reassure me when I panicked. The way I'd trusted him right from the start. I wasn't sure if that trust had been misplaced or not. I wasn't sure of anything anymore.
It wasn't like I could go anywhere, so I didn't have much choice but to hear him out. Dragging the chair opposite me out from under the table, he eyed me and I nodded. He dropped into the chair, resting his forearms across the table.
“I've never lied to you once, Kimberly.”
My eyebrows rose at that statement and I folded my arms across my chest. He was going to have to do better than that. I wasn't just going to accept his word. Too much had happened to the contrary. His lips curled up on one side making a dimple pop out. I dropped my gaze to his chin because those lips…
Images of them pressed against my skin, memories of them feathering kisses against my lips overwhelmed me. How could I be so attracted to him still? How could I still want him so much when I wasn't sure I could trust him? When I knew he was a married man, for Christ's sake.
“You don't believe me. Okay, I can understand that. I may not have always told you the entire truth but I've never lied to you. I always told you as much of the truth as I could.”
He leaned back against the chair and raised a hand off the table. Pointing his index finger at me he said, “One. My name is Kyle Becker. Beck to my friends just like I told you. A kind of nickname my teammates gave me.”
I loosened my arms across my chest but didn't say a word. He held out his middle finger towards me.
“Two. I never said what my job was when you asked. When Jaz introduced me to you, I couldn't tell you the truth without blowing my cover. Believe me, I wanted to. But when you brought up the point that I was your boss, I told you I wasn't. That was the truth. I wasn't really ever your boss.”
Dropping his head back he looked towards the ceiling. My heart gave a painful squeeze at how vulnerable he suddenly looked sitting there. I unfolded my arms to stretch one out towards him, but then stopped myself. Whilst all of that might be true, it didn't change the fact that he was married.
Lifting his head his gaze met mine. Eyes so dark they almost looked black as some emotion swirled in their depths.
“That's no excuse though. I should have…stayed away from you. Certainly shouldn't have started anything with you. I just couldn't…” Lifting his other hand to his chin he rubbed his fingers along his jaw scratching across the stubble that covered it. “…stay away.”
Glancing away from me he lifted another finger. “Three. I'm not married, which is why I never mentioned it.”
A snort escaped me. “You might want to let your wife know that, then.” The bitterness in my voice was obvious, but I couldn't help it. The blood pounded through my ears as I recalled that night. Standing there and being introduced to Beck's wife. Did she know what he did behind her back?
Beck smiled. Actually fucking smiled and I folded my arms across my chest. Glad one of us was amused by this.
“Sarah isn't my wife. Sarah isn't ever her name, it's Kath.” He let out a laugh as he shook his head. “She's married, just not to me. Kath is my partner. She's been working this case with me from the start. We're friends. Nothing more.” Beck dropped both hands into his lap and stared at me. His lips curved up into a kind of half-smile before he lowered his head to stare at his lap.
I opened my mouth to speak but then closed it again.
Head reeling from the information overload, I didn't know what to say.