The present
The angry black clouds delivered on their promise. Lightning and thunder created melodrama as torrents of rain crashed to earth.
It was a dark and stormy night…
Normally, the famous line would have brought a smile to Jake’s face but not this time. His expression was grim. Absently, he sipped the bitter black coffee in the Styrofoam cup. His watch glowed 12:15 a.m. as he stood outside the emergency room entrance to Reston Hospital. Despite the roof covering the area, gusts of wind sprayed him with rain.
He barely noticed.
Pulling his cell phone from a pocket, he dialed and waited. Silence finally answered.
“This is Granite. The situation we discussed has been resolved on this end. Permanently.”
“Good to know,” Salami said. “I investigated the rumor you told me about.”
Jake frowned. “Rumor?”
“Yeah. Turns out this Contractor guy was an urban legend. Story goes he ran quite a side business using independent hitmen. When a private contract was particularly sensitive or required a specialty, he would deceive one of the Agency’s assassins into taking it. Crazy story, huh?”
“Yeah, crazy story. How’d it end?”
“Like I said, he was only an urban legend. The Contractor wasn’t real.”
Jake’s night had been hell, and the information took a few moments to filter through his brain. Finally, he responded, “Urban legend, my ass. I bet the bastard just made the mistake of fucking with the wrong assassin.”
“Maybe, Granite, but I prefer to believe the Contractor never existed.”
“I know. Like you and me, my friend.”
“Right.” Salami hesitated. “You never consummated the Reardon contract, did you?”
“No.”
“I didn’t think so.” Salami snorted. “Guess you’re a bit of a rogue now, Granite. Good man.”
Jake grinned. “Well, thanks for everything. And by the way, forget about Istanbul. That debt is paid.”
“Never,” Salami murmured, and then he was gone.
Jake stuffed the phone back in his pocket. He had expected more satisfaction and relief than he felt. Perhaps, after what had happened during the last five hours, the Contractor’s demise was more perfunctory than emancipating.
* * *
Detective Sean Burke shook off the raindrops as he hustled through the automatic door into the Reston Hospital emergency room waiting area. He spotted his target entering the men’s restroom. His jaw and hands clenched before he sprinted across the linoleum floor.
He burst through the swinging door as Jake was unzipping his fly. Sean grabbed Jake’s arms, pinned them to the startled man’s back, and slammed him against the tiled wall. With one forearm, he hammered Jake’s neck into an immovable position.
“If this little chat…is going to take awhile…at least let me breathe.” Jake grunted the words through his teeth. “That…or get it over with…and kill me.”
“Shut the fuck up, Stone! I don’t know whether to kill or kiss you.”
“Can’t say…I prefer…either one.”
Sean’s chest heaved hard, and hot breath spilled onto the back of Jake’s neck. “Angela…how bad…?”
“The hospital won’t…tell me shit.”
“But she’s not…”
“I don’t think so…but they won’t say. What the hell…was she doing there?”
Sean sneered. “The bigger question—for you—is what the hell is she doing alive? I just about shit in my pants when she called me.”
“Called you?”
“At my office, as I was leaving. Now answer my damn question.”
“Didn’t she…tell you?” Jake tried to pull his cheek away from the wall, but Sean smacked his face back down. “Damn. Can’t we talk…like civilized—”
“No way. And yeah, Angela told me what she thought had happened. I want to see if you tell the same story.”
Jake groaned. “We faked her suicide…so I could deal with the contract…that Romano or Zurlini…had out on her. Thought it was…an Italian macho…or Mafia thing. I’d tell you more…if I could breathe.”
“Well, shit.” Sean released Jake and immediately sucker punched him in the kidney. Jake collapsed to his knees. “That’s for putting me through hell.” Sean’s glare burned into the man on the floor.
With a hand braced against the wall, Jake slowly leveraged himself upright. The moment he regained his balance, he buried his fist in the detective’s gut. Bent in half, Sean hugged his ribs and moaned.
“That’s for not letting me know Angela had called you,” Jake said, twisting his neck to get the kinks out and massaging his lower back. “Even?”
“Yeah, sure.”
A few minutes later, they trudged out to the waiting area and claimed two seats in a deserted corner where they could talk privately.
“How did you originally hear about the contract?” Sean asked.
“I have good ears.”
He hung his head in exasperation. “Sometimes, Stone, I just want to bust your ass.”
“Hey, I’m like a journalist. I have to protect my sources.”
“Yeah, right. When you came to LAPD, why didn’t you tell us you suspected Romano or Zurlini?”
“I’d already checked them out and eliminated that theory. The rape connection seemed the only other possibility.”
Sean looked at him doubtfully. “Let’s assume you’re telling the truth. I’m a cop. Why couldn’t you tell me Angela was in hiding?”
“I didn’t trust anyone. I rarely do.” Jake arched his back and stretched. “Why did Angela call you?”
“She was scared.”
Jake’s gaze shifted to the floor. “Of what?”
“Obviously, she was afraid the hitman would find her. She felt too vulnerable down in Rosarito all alone. And she was frantic to find you.”
“So why didn’t she call me?”
“Good question,” Sean said, slanting him a suspicious glance.
“Here’s another one. Why didn’t you call me?” Jake’s steely eyes nailed him to the chair.
Sean returned the favor. “Angela made me promise not to.”
“Jesus Christ, I thought we were partners in this.”
“Hey, I’d just found out my ‘partner’ had lied to me about this woman being dead. Hell, I was still in shock. Who do you think I was going to cooperate with? When I told her I was meeting you here in Virginia, she freaked out and insisted on coming. So she flew out of Tijuana last night about midnight.”
“Helluva trip.”
“Yeah. And my trip from LA just about screwed up your whole plan. Man, I was sweating it when I missed my flight out of Dallas because of the bad weather. When I didn’t roll into the hotel until seven last night, I thought for sure the sting was dead. Thank God, all that was left to do was slap the wire on you. Not a minute to spare.” Sean grinned. “That’s why I didn’t kick your ass right then.”
“Well, thanks. Maleena might’ve gotten spooked if I’d been bruised and bleeding.”
“Get this. Angela called me from the hotel lobby to get my room number right as Maleena knocked on your door.”
Jake pinched the bridge of his nose. “Damn. They almost ran into each other.”
“No shit, Sherlock. And since Maleena was already there, I couldn’t warn you about Angela.”
“The door slamming and the angry voices must’ve been Angela arriving. Had you told her about Maleena?”
“Good God, no. I’d told her earlier only that you were going to interrogate a suspect.”
“What happened in the room?”
“She was pissed you weren’t with me. Then she heard Maleena’s voice coming over the wire. We both froze listening to that god-awful conversation.”
“Angela heard all of it?”
“All but the first few minutes.”
“Jesus Christ.” Leaning forward, Jake squeezed his head between his hands.
The two sat silently for several minutes.
Then Jake glanced sideways at Sean. “Who tipped off the cops?”
“I sure as hell didn’t. I suspect Angela did.”
“Why would she do that?”
“Damned if I know. She was in a panic. It was hard to understand what she was saying. Insisted on getting the room number and coming up. Sounded like she thought I was in danger.”
“What did the cops tell you later?”
“They got an anonymous call from the lobby payphone about a big drug deal going down. Go figure. Believe me, I was as shocked as you when they stormed in a second after the shooting stopped,” Sean said.
“Yeah, they grabbed me and slammed me up against the wall before I could get to Angela. Got my Glock, of course.”
“I thought they were going to trample her when they barged in. They shoved me into the adjoining room before I could see…” Sean stopped and gulped. “Took my piece, too. How many shots did you hear?”
Their eyes locked.
“Three.”
“Yeah, me, too. The uniforms told me two hit Maleena. By then, Angela was gone, and they didn’t know her condition.”
“Shit. I was screaming at them to tell me if she was all right, but the assholes wouldn’t say anything. I couldn’t see…”
“Me neither. The paramedics were blocking my view. I never heard a sound out of her.” Sean’s gut felt ready to explode. “Did…did Maleena shoot her?”
“Damn it, I don’t know, man. I just don’t know. That’s why I’m going crazy here.”
Sean stood and paced, clenching and unclenching his fists. “How the hell did you disappear?”
Jake exhaled. “Trade secret. Is there an APB or BOLO out on me?”
“I don’t think so, but the cops were damn pissed. Once I convinced them that I really was with the LAPD and vouched for you, they calmed down a bit. Thank God for our little recording. Otherwise, we would’ve been up Shit Creek without a paddle. They still want to wring your neck, though.”
“No doubt. How much trouble are you in?”
Sean scratched his head. “Other than being a few thousand miles out of my jurisdiction, you mean? Oh, and the other minor issue of the dead woman in the room.”
After a moment’s delay, laughter burst from both men. Tension snapped like guitar strings. They laughed until their eyes watered and their sides ached.
“I gotta go. My new Fairfax County cop friends are waiting for me to play another round of Twenty Questions. I was pushing their patience to come check on Angela in person. I thought I might find you lurking around.”
“I had to play hide and seek earlier when a couple of them came here looking for me. You gonna tell them…?”
“Hell no. I’m counting on you to call me the minute you hear something about Angela.”
“Sure thing.”
The men’s eyes connected. Sean’s searched and probed. Realization dawned. “You love her, don’t ya, Stone?”
Jake nodded solemnly.
Sean chuckled, turned away, and walked out into the rain.
* * *
Turning the corner with his fourth cup of vending machine coffee, Jake spotted Randall Reardon speaking with a doctor in front of the double doors leading to the examining rooms. Silently, he slipped back into the shadowy corridor and peeked around the corner.
Randall was crying and gesturing helplessly. The doctor spoke quietly, placing a comforting hand on the disconsolate man’s shoulder. After a ten-minute conversation, the men shook hands, and the doctor disappeared through the double doors.
Angela’s father stumbled to the nearest group of chairs and dropped leadenly into one of them. He rested his elbows on his knees and held his head between his hands, his shoulders shaking with sobs.
Watching from a distance, Jake wondered what he could possibly say to the distraught father. Probably nothing. The man would most likely blame Stone for his misery. But Randall was the only source Jake had for information about Angela’s condition. He tossed the half-full cup into a trashcan and steeled himself as he strolled through the waiting room.
Randall was oblivious to Jake’s approach. When he stood about two feet away, he bent and touched the man’s shoulder. He started and glanced around, looking slightly disoriented, but his gaze soon landed on Jake.
“Mr. Reardon, I really don’t know what to say, but I’m sorry for your—”
Before Jake could finish, Randall sprang from the chair. He wrapped his arms around Jake and held on as though he feared his legs wouldn’t support him. His sobbing intensified.
Agony gripped Jake. Oh God, not Angela, too. Please, God, no. He tried to speak, but the lump in his throat turned his words into a sob. Tears stung his eyes. His arms enveloped Angela’s father, and the two men clung to each other.
Gradually, composure returned, and they sat down together. Neither spoke for several minutes as they regained self-control.
“Is Angela…?” He braced for the worst. “I’m not family. They won’t tell me anything.”
Randall rubbed his forehead and inhaled deeply. “She’s alive. Thank God—” He blinked and then looked directly into Jake’s eyes. “And thank you, Mr. Stone.”
“I’m not sure I deserve your gratitude, but you’re welcome.” He swallowed hard. “How bad was she hit, I mean, shot?”
“Shot?” Confusion flitted across Randall’s face for a moment, but then he refocused. “Angela wasn’t shot. She’s in severe shock.”
Jake’s breath released in a rush. His fingers pressed against his eyes to stem the tears that threatened to resume. Thank you, God, thank you.
Randall cleared his throat. “The doctor said it’s the most severe case of acute stress reaction he’s ever witnessed. They were unable to get any response from her for hours. But she’s doing better now. I should be able to see her soon.”
“I can’t tell you how relieved I am. How’s your wife?”
Randall sighed. “I took her home after we identified Maleena’s body. She didn’t want to come to the hospital…to see Angela.” He glanced sideways at Jake. “The police haven’t told us much, Mr. Stone. Only that it appeared you and the LAPD detective fired in self-defense. What in the world was going on in that hotel room?”
Jake met his questioning gaze. “It’s an incredibly ugly story, Mr. Reardon. I don’t think this is the right time or place. But if the final police report doesn’t satisfy you, I’ll tell you my version. Deal?”
Randall studied him. “Deal. Honestly, I just want to rejoice in having Angela back. How can I ever thank you?”
He thought a moment. “Let Angela live her life. Don’t interfere in our relationship. I love your daughter, Mr. Reardon, and more than anything, I want to make her happy.”
“I hope you succeed. You two have my blessing.”
The doctor who had spoken to Randall earlier called his name from the doorway. Randall jumped up, took two steps, and turned back.
“Care to join me…Jake?”
* * *
“God, I’ve missed you, and I’m so relieved. I was going crazy not knowing your condition. And I’m damn thrilled you’re in one piece. So don’t take this wrong, babe,” Jake said, peering hard through the windshield as the wipers struggled to clear it. “But maybe you should listen to the doctor. He was royally pissed that you refused to stay in the hospital. He said you needed to be under observation for at least another twenty-four hours.”
“I’m fine,” Angela insisted, staring out the side window.
“You don’t look fine. You look terrible.”
“Thanks, I needed that.”
“Shit, Angela, you look like a woman who’s suffered a tremendous shock.”
She turned an intense glare in his direction. “More than one.”
“Huh?”
“Forget it.”
“Are you sure you don’t want me to drive you to your parents’ house? Your dad wanted you to come home.” Stony silence was her only response. “He loves you, Angela. He wants to try to make things right.”
“Not tonight. Okay?”
“Okay.”
They fell silent.
Angela rested her head against the cool glass and closed her eyes.
“Seriously, babe, you’re scaring me. You’re white as a sheet, and the tremors aren’t a good sign.”
She opened her eyes and held both hands elevated in front of her. They shook noticeably. She clasped them together and rested them in her lap.
“I can’t stop shaking. Maybe they put adrenaline in the IV. You’d think I’d feel exhausted, but I’m wired.”
“I know how to relax you,” he said with a suggestive smile.
She frowned. “Only you would think of sex at a time like this.”
He shrugged. “You can’t blame a red-blooded guy for—” His cell phone interrupted. “What’s up, Burke?”
“How’s Angela?”
“She’s being stubborn already, so that’s a sure sign she’s even better than when I last called you. We’re headed back to the hotel. She refused to stay in the hospital.”
“Jesus Christ. She’s a helluva woman. You sure you can handle her, Stone? Maybe I should—”
“I’m gonna hang up now,” Jake teased.
Burke chuckled. “I’ve got some interesting news. You want to hear it or not?”
“Make it quick. We’re almost to the hotel.”
“The CSIs figured out the three shots.”
Jake straightened and held the phone tighter against his ear. “Talk to me.”
“They finally found the third bullet buried in the wall in back of the bed’s headboard.”
“But the bed was behind Maleena. Her shot should’ve hit in the opposite direction, near the doorway where you and Angela were standing.”
“Yeah. That’s where they’d been looking and finding nothing. Here’s why. The last bullet was mine, not Maleena’s. I missed, hit the wall behind her.”
“I don’t get it. She was hit twice. Right?” Jake glanced at Angela nervously and looked away.
“You’re not going to believe this. They pulled the two slugs out of her. Yours hit center chest. Hers entered the right temple,” Burke explained.
“Holy shit. Maleena shot herself.”
“Crazy, huh? She must’ve snapped when she saw Angela was alive. Anyway, thought you’d want to know.”
“Yeah. Thanks.”
“By the way, they cleared me to go back to LA tomorrow.”
“Do you still have a job at LAPD, or are they going to throw you to the lions?”
Burke laughed. “I’ve already called Olsen. He’s pissed I snuck away with only a lying e-mail. But considering I solved—”
“You solved?”
“Damn straight, I solved a rape and three murders. They may slap my wrist for not following proper procedures, but they’ll probably let me stick around.”
“Will Homicide close the cases without nabbing the actual shooters?”
“My guess is the detectives will investigate quickly, work any information they find in Maleena’s stuff. But since the assholes in the Suburban were professional hitmen, chances are they won’t be caught.” Burke’s long pause sent a shiver of apprehension down Jake’s spine. “You know, Stone, hitmen are damn shadowy bastards. Hard to pin down.”
“Really? I wouldn’t know.”
Burke snorted. “Don’t forget that the Fairfax cops still need to talk to you.”
“I’ll call them in the morning. They’re not going to throw me in the slammer for ducking out on them, are they?”
“Hey, buddy, you’re on your own. Give me a call if they let you come back to sunny California.”
“Will do.” Jake paused. “Thanks again, Burke…for everything.”
* * *
Angela did not want to listen to the conversation. She never wanted to hear her identical twin’s name again. Reflexively, her hands covered her ears, and her eyes pressed tightly shut. But it was too late. The harm was already done. Tears spilled from under her eyelashes and ran down her cheeks. She jumped when Jake patted her arm.
“I’m sorry you had to hear that,” he said, turning into the hotel parking lot. “Are you okay?”
She opened her eyes and shook her head.
Swearing under his breath, he parked the car and then slouched in the seat. “Damn, Angela, I wish you hadn’t witnessed what happened to Maleena. I’ve already apologized countless times. I don’t know what else to say. I hope you believe I fired in self-defense. And honest to God, after what she did to you, I don’t understand how you can be sad about…”
She peered at him in disbelief. How could he think she was mourning for Maleena? How could he not understand the pain she was feeling, the agony she had bottled up inside for so long? But then how could Jake possibly know how it felt to be hated, betrayed, and violated by your identical twin four years ago? And now, to relive it and learn that hatred had expanded to murder? Emotional devastation burned through her. Her composure crumbled, revealing her inner misery.
“Jesus Christ,” he murmured. “You remember. The shock… Your amnesia… Gone?”
“Yes,” she whispered. “When I heard Maleena talking about that night, I felt like someone was pulling open the curtains on a stage. First, I could see the rape like a play being acted. Then I could smell it: the sex, the sweat. Then I could feel it: the pain, the fear, the humiliation. I was there, on my bed, and Maleena and that man were raping me. Again and again and again.” She choked back a sob. “When I came around the adjoining room door and our eyes met, it was like that same split second during the rape when I recognized her. I just lived it all over again.” She covered her face with her hands.
“God, Angela, I’m sorry. You weren’t supposed to hear or see anything tonight. You were supposed to be safe in Rosarito Beach.” He reached for her, gently pulled her hands down.
She tried not to flinch when he touched her but failed. A puzzled look knitted Jake’s brow.
She wiped the tears from her cheeks. “Right. Rosarito. I know. I’m not blaming you.”
“That’s a relief.” He drew a deep breath and continued. “By the way, why did you call Burke instead of me?”
She stiffened and reached to open her car door. “You had told me not to call you, and I didn’t know where you were.”
Jake caught her arm and pulled her back around. “That doesn’t make sense. You had my cell number. If you needed to know where I was and what I was doing, you should’ve called me.” He paused. “We hadn’t talked since I left you in Mexico, so you didn’t even know I’d contacted Burke. And if you wanted to let the cops know you were alive, why call him and not the Coronado PD?”
“I remembered Sean and thought he would understand. I trust him.”
“But not me?”
Angela held his gaze defiantly. “You wanted me…out of the way.”
“For a damn good reason. Burke said you were scared. Why?”
“I was all by myself.”
“I left you with a gun and plenty of ammo. You said you’d be fine until I got back.”
“You were gone for two weeks without a word. The longer I thought about it, the more vulnerable I felt. If someone showed up at the beach house, I might not recognize him for what he was until it was too late. I realized that a professional killer…might be good at pretending to be a friend, not a foe.”
They stared at each other silently.
Angela blinked and glanced down at the bandage on her arm. She rubbed the spot where the IV had been. When her gaze rose, she kept it cold, distant. “Alone in Rosarito, I was totally isolated. No one knew where I was.”
His eyes narrowed. “I knew.”
She yanked her arm free and opened the car door. “Honestly, Jake, I don’t understand why you’re angry. Can we argue about it later?” She slammed the door, reached into her purse, and pulled out a key. “Thank goodness, my purse didn’t get lost in the mayhem last night. My suitcase is still in my rental car.”
Pensive and watchful, she followed Jake’s every move while they retrieved her suitcase and checked into a room. Her constant observation seemed to perplex him. Several times, he glanced at her questioningly but didn’t complain.
She carried her nightgown and toiletry kit into the bathroom and locked the door. While the shower heated, she studied her face in the mirror. Strained. Pale. She did look terrible.
The hot spray of the shower relaxed the tense muscles in her neck and back but couldn’t uncoil the anxiety inside her. Was she strong enough to deal with the imminent confrontation? Perhaps she’d been a fool to leave the safety of the hospital.
While she toweled dry, she strengthened her resolve. She needed to know the truth. Unfortunately, that truth could be devastating…and dangerous. Still, she had no choice.
Again she gazed into the mirror. Her eyes swam with a myriad of emotions: sadness, anxiety, disappointment, fear, hope. Hope? Yes. Unbelievably, deep inside, the dream of a happy ending still lived. Although her heart ached for the dream to come true, her brain remembered that reality was a nightmare.
Stepping out of the bathroom in her pink silk nightgown, she found Jake already lying in bed. She avoided his eyes and instead felt them undressing her.
He smiled and held out his hand, but she ignored it. She flipped back the sheet and discovered him naked beneath it. She froze and swallowed hard.
“It’s okay, Angela. C’mere. Let me hold you.”
“I’m not sure…”
Propping himself on an elbow, he watched her. Concern and caution were etched on his face. “Hey. I’m not going to force you to… I thought it might help if… Hell, forget it. I just want to take care of you.”
Her eyes searched his, probing deep, until he blinked and looked away. Her heart pounding, she pressed her lips together tightly as she fought the urge to run. Although it would soon be dawn, her night of horrors was not yet over. The mystery of her rape had finally been solved, but the shock had left her incapacitated for hours. Now she faced another mystery, a dangerous, intimate one. Alone.
A surreal sense of déjà vu washed over her. Same pink silk nightgown. Jake, naked, in bed. The night they first made love. Their last night together. The night he was going to… She shook off the thought.
With a tremulous sigh, she lay down and pulled up the sheet. He scooted closer and wrapped his arms around her. At first, she stiffened but then relaxed slightly as his hand caressed her back. She nestled her head beneath his chin. Finally, she stroked his chest and then splayed her hand across his back. For a long time, they simply embraced.
“Angela, I…I can’t believe how I feel. This is uncharted territory for Jake Stone.” He nuzzled her hair and massaged the curve of her tush through the silk. “God, I’ve missed you.”
“So much has happened.”
“Yeah, everything is better now.” His breathing quickened as well as his hands. “You’re an amazing woman. You haven’t just survived, you’ve overcome unspeakable traumas.”
His lips found hers, and after an initial hesitation, she surrendered. His hardening dick pressed against her thigh, sending a jolt of desire—and alarm—through her. The taste and feel of him were part of the dream. Dear God, why can’t the dream come true and the nightmare just go away?
* * *
Jake worked the thin straps of the gown off her shoulders and down her arms. His mouth lowered to kiss the swell of her breasts, and his tongue trailed into her cleavage.
“Every day since I left Rosarito, I’ve thought about being inside you again,” he said, his voice husky. “Did you think about it, too?”
“Hmmm.”
He pulled the hem of the gown up to her waist and slid his hand gently between her thighs. His fingers found heat, but no welcoming wetness.
More frantic now, his hands moved urgently over her body, searching for the touch, the caress that would arouse her. His kiss was deep, his tongue working hard to mate with hers. His lips lowered to a nipple: circling, teasing, sucking. He palmed her butt and squeezed. He rolled on top of her, spreading her thighs with his knee.
Feeling no response, he raised his head to search her face. “You’re okay with this, aren’t you? I know it’s been a while since we…” With his hands braced on either side of her shoulders, he hung over her, his body—all of it—rigid, hard, needy. His head dipped. His breath, warm and panting, blew against her ear, down her neck. The tip of his tongue caressed the hollow of her throat as the tip of his dick prodded her opening.
Still no response. He drew a shuddering breath, let it out slowly as though trying to deflate the part of him that was inflated to the point of pain. His eyes locked on hers.
“I love you, Angela. You do remember I told you that when we made love the first time?”
She stared back with wary detachment. “I remember.”
“And you said you loved me. So what’s wrong?”
Several pounding heartbeats ticked by before she answered.
“I saw the syringe, Jake.”
Above her, he blinked. “What?”
“I saw the syringe. In Rosarito. Remember when you were leaving? I ran back into the beach house to get your jacket. The syringe fell out of the pocket when I picked it up. I just stuffed the thing back inside. I was in such shock already, and you were in such a hurry to get back across the border that I didn’t even think to ask you about it.” She paused, gulped, shuddered. “A few days later, I figured it out. You were hired to kill me, weren’t you? You were planning to do it that night. If you lie to me, Jake, I’ll never be able to trust you.”
His eyes closed. His thoughts clung hopelessly to the warm, sexy woman beneath him. Their bodies weren’t connected, only touching, at that most intimate spot. One hard thrust and he would be inside. But now he might never make love to her again.
Jake opened his eyes and peered down at her, amazed at her strength despite her vulnerable position. He pushed himself over and onto his back. The heat of passion left him, and he shivered with an instant chill. He felt the warmth drain from his eyes until they turned dead, stone cold. A very familiar feeling.
“Don’t close yourself off and hide. No more hiding. I need the truth. It was you, wasn’t it?” she asked.
Staring at the ceiling, he answered quietly, “Yes.”
“And I wouldn’t have been your first…victim, right?”
He wondered at the odd sensation of life draining from him. Ignoring her question, he asked, “Do you hate me?”
“No.”
“Are you afraid of me?”
“No,” she whispered.
“Maybe you should be.”
“I don’t think so, but I have to know something. What changed your mind? Why didn’t you…kill me?” Her voice cracked. “Why?”
He addressed the ceiling even though he felt her studying him. “Yes, Angela, I’ve killed people as a SEAL and as a CIA assassin. I can’t disclose the details, but I was told the contract on you was a CIA-sanctioned national security hit. After I became suspicious of the reasons given for the contract, I pleaded with my handler to get it canceled. When he wouldn’t, I tried to find a way out but failed. If I simply refused to kill you, there was a very good chance both of us would end up dead. But what kind of monster kills someone he loves? I couldn’t be that monster, Angela. Loving you saved me from being that monster.”
He sighed heavily, sat up, and swung his legs off the side of the bed. “To ease my conscience, I always insisted on knowing the target’s crime so I could convince myself the person deserved to die. That the world would be a better place without them. My ‘victims’ were always terrible people, serious threats to our national security. So I couldn’t understand why the Agency wanted you dead. And I believed, beyond a shadow of a doubt, there was no way in hell that you deserved to die.”
Jake looked back over his shoulder. “I love you, Angela. That’s what changed my mind. That’s what changed my whole life. You saved me. You’re my redemption.”
He waited, painful heartbeats measuring the time.
Angela tenderly touched his arm, and she smiled. “I love you, too, Jake. You saved me…from a life without love, from a life of fear and distrust.” Her lips trembled. “You healed my emotional scars, restored my sexuality, and made me believe in love again. Now, please…make love to me.”