Whispers in the Dark

CHAPTER 33

SHEA awakened to a long, hard body shifting over her and sliding up her body. Nathan parted her thighs and slid another long, hard part of himself deep inside her.

She let out a contented sigh and lazily opened her eyes to see him staring intently down at her.

“I love morning sex,” he murmured. “I love seeing your hair all spread out over my pillow, your body wrapped around mine. I love watching you sleep. So beautiful.”

She arched an eyebrow. “So would that be you love morning sex in general or you love morning sex with me?”

He chuckled. “You, baby. Definitely you. Only you.”

“That’s better.”

“There shouldn’t be any doubt,” he whispered as he eased forward again.

He kissed her lazily, drawing out the pleasure for both of them with slow, gentle strokes. It was markedly different from the night before. She’d wanted his urgency then. The borderline desperation, the loss of control. She’d wanted it raw and rough. Just as now she needed his reverence and gentleness.

He rocked over her, kissing and caressing until her orgasm whispered softly through her veins. Then he found his own release and gently lowered himself to her body.

“I forgot the damn condoms last night and this morning,” he said in disgust.

She smiled. “The ship has already kind of sailed on that issue, hasn’t it? What’s that old saying about closing the barn door after the horse is already out?”

He sighed. “I know. I just should have protected you better.”

She snuggled into his arms and pushed her head under his chin. “You protect me just fine.”

A knock sounded at the door, sending Shea scrambling for the covers. Nathan chuckled. “No one’s coming in, baby.”

“Nathan?” Joe called through the door.

“Yeah, what is it?”

“We’re heading out. Thought you and Shea would want to come with.”

“Give us ten, okay?”

“No problem.”

“Ten minutes?” she squeaked.

Nathan grinned at her. “Better get a move on. We run a tight ship around here.”

She sent him a disgruntled look but threw the covers off and hurried for the bathroom.

SHEA leaned into Nathan during the short drive back to the KGI compound. They parked outside the headquarters and Nathan ushered her inside with the others.

Sam and Garrett were already there. She wasn’t sure what Sam was doing, but Garrett was watching the surveillance footage again, a frown of concentration etched deep into his features.

The very last thing she wanted was to rehash that footage and see Grace all over again.

“Ethan will be over soon,” Sam said when he looked up and saw everyone enter.

“Any word from Resnick?” Donovan asked. “The bastard hasn’t answered any of my calls.”

Sam shook his head. “Nothing. He’s pissing me off.”

Shea paced restlessly, focusing away from the huge LCD screen that seemed to dominate the room. At one point, Nathan cornered her, trapping her by placing both arms on the wall on either side of her.

“What’s wrong?” he asked softly.

“Can we just get some fresh air? Just you and me?” Her gaze inadvertently caught on the screen again and she frowned.

He looked over his shoulder, following the direction of her gaze, and then his eyes flashed in understanding. He pushed away from the wall and tangled his fingers with hers.

“Come on. We’ll go out the back.”

After explaining to the others where they were going, Nathan directed Shea down a long hallway leading to another door with a data entry keyboard. He punched in the code and the door slid open.

She was nearly blinded by the sudden wash of sunlight, but it danced over her skin, leaving warmth in its wake. When her sight adjusted to the brightness, she stared over the landscape to the drop-off where the lake spread out over the horizon.

There was an odd beauty to the compound. Much of it was still wooded, natural, forested. Green. But then in the middle of such an outdoor paradise was a helipad, the imposing building that housed the war room, and there were cleared areas that looked like something out of a basic training scenario.

One half looked very much like a military base, but then the other side was a complete contrast. There were three beautiful homes nestled among trees that backed up to the drop-off to the lake. They all looked new and…cozy. Not a word she’d use to describe the rest of the facility.

“Who lives there?” she asked, nodding in the direction of the houses.

Nathan turned, his hands shoved into his pockets. “The one on the far right is Sam’s. He lives there with his wife, Sophie, and their daughter, Charlotte. Next to him is Garrett and Sarah’s house. They’ve only just moved in and they plan to marry soon. They met just before I went MIA. They wanted to wait to get married until they knew one way or another about me. I met her for the first time when she and Garrett came to see me in the hospital where I was recovering.”

Shea grimaced. “I’m surprised you don’t hate me for leaving you.”

“I wasn’t happy about it,” he confessed. “I did some serious battling with my sanity for a long while. But I understand why. You gave up so much for me.”

“What about the last house?” she asked, looking away from him and toward the house in question.

“Ethan and Rachel will live there. It’s not quite done yet. They have a house a few miles away. They’ll put it on the market when they move here.”

She thought for a moment, running the names and faces of all his brothers through her mind. “And what about Donovan and Joe? And…you?”

Nathan pointed to a spot away from the other houses. It was thick with trees and overlooked the lake, unlike the others.

“That’s Van’s spot. He’s in no hurry to build, though. Maybe he’ll wait until he gets married. I’m not sure what he’s planned.”

“And you?”

He held out his hand. “Come on. I want to show you something.”

Intrigued, she slipped her hand into his and let him lead her toward a grove of trees that rested down the cliff’s edge from Sam’s home. There was a worn path that wove through the mature trees and the mounds of honeysuckle that seemed to take over the entire area.

She inhaled, enjoying the sweetness, and then closed her eyes as the breeze blew in off the lake, filling the air with even more of the perfume.

When she reopened her eyes, they’d burst into a clearing where the frame of a house stood. It faced the lake and they’d come in to the back of the house. He walked her around to the front, where she could see a wooden porch already constructed.

It would be the perfect place to sit out and enjoy the view of the lake. She could imagine evenings in a porch swing, watching the sun go down, waiting for the stars to pop out and enjoying the scattering of fireflies over the landscape.

The image was so poignant that it brought a lump to her throat.

“Whose is it?”

“Mine,” he said quietly. “Or it will be. It’s small. I mean nothing huge. But very open. After…After I came back, the idea of living in a house with small rooms and closed-in spaces freaked me out. So I designed the house to be basically one big open space. The living room leads into the kitchen and there’s an eat-in area. And then the master bedroom, but it’s pretty open too. There aren’t many rooms, but they’re all large and open.”

He suddenly snapped his lips shut as if he knew he was babbling. Her heart squeezed a little and she wrapped her arms around his waist, hugging him to her as she stared at the creation he’d begun.

“Are you building it yourself?”

“Yeah. That’s why there isn’t much done. It was something to do. Something to occupy my time and give me some time to think about what I was going to do. It sounds like an excuse, but I felt like I was waiting.”

“For what?” she asked softly.

He turned in her arms to stare down at her. “You. I was waiting for you.”

He touched her hair and trailed his fingers through the strands, gathering them and then letting go. Then he glanced back up at the house and she could literally feel his nervousness grow with every breath.

“Can you picture yourself here, Shea? Could you live here with me?”

Her lips parted in surprise. Not so much that he’d imagine them being together. She had a pretty good idea of how committed he was to the idea of them having a future together. But it still seemed so…nebulous. Not real. No matter how much they talked about it or he scowled and grew angry at her reservations.

But now it seemed so final. And it was hard to picture herself living a fairy tale existence in a beautiful home with a man who loved her when her sister was out there somewhere and Shea couldn’t be sure she’d ever see her again.

She felt guilty for even thinking of being so damn happy when she couldn’t guarantee the same for Grace.

The longer she went without responding, the more nervous he grew, and she realized that her hesitancy was giving him all the wrong ideas. Her heart throbbed just a bit as she picked up the threads from his mind. He worried the house wasn’t good enough for her. That he wasn’t good enough for her. That he was too damaged. That he couldn’t make her happy.

She slipped back into his arms and wrapped herself around him until he was surrounded by her. Then she leaned up on tiptoe so she could reach his mouth. She touched his cheek, directing him downward, and kissed him softly.

“The house is perfect. I can’t imagine a more beautiful place.”

“But can you see yourself here? With me?” he asked gruffly.

She smiled. “I can see myself anywhere you are, Nathan.”

His relief was palpable. Then he smiled. “Wait here just a second. There’s something I want to show you.”

GARRETT stared at the screen and rewound the footage to start just after the flashbang grenade exploded and the intruders entered the house behind Nathan and Shea’s flight to the panic room.

Ethan came in, and Garrett held up a hand in absent greeting before returning his attention back to the screen.

It had bugged him the entire night before. He hadn’t been able to sleep for replaying the images in his head. Something was wrong, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. So he watched it again, studying each frame, looking for what was making his internal alarm beep like a mo-fo.

Donovan and Ethan came to stand beside Garrett and stared up at the screen.

“What’s up, G?” Donovan asked. “You’ve been watching the same few seconds of tape for the last fifteen minutes.”

Garrett frowned and then hit the keyboard to pause on the front man. “There. Look at that, Van. See his hand? Can you zoom in on that?”

Donovan shoved him over and then typed a rapid succession of commands. The screen capture zoomed on the screen and then the resolution sharpened.

“Holy fuck,” Garrett whispered. His gut knotted and his pulse started pounding like a jackhammer. He wasn’t wrong about this. He wasn’t goddamn wrong about this. And if he wasn’t wrong, then they were in some deep shit without hip waders.

Sam stalked over, Steele on his heels. “What’s going on?”

Swanny sauntered up behind Steele and looked on with interest.

Garrett gestured toward the image on the monitor. “Take a look at his hand. You recognize that? I remember it from when we were down in Del Rio, when things went to shit with Sophie. Kyle Phillips led a black ops team that Resnick provided. That signal. It’s different. I remember thinking it was like they had their own language and fuck the Marines, even though, hey, they’re Marines, right?”

Sam stared hard at the screen, his features frozen. Then his eyes narrowed in fury. “Zoom in, Van. On his left hand. Ring finger.”

Garrett glanced at Sam in confusion and then back at Donovan, who was already furiously tapping the keyboard.

The man wore black gloves, but when Van zoomed all the way in and cleaned up the image, it looked very much like the tip of his ring finger was missing. The glove tip was flatter there and not defined like the other fingers.

“Son of a bitch. Son of a bitch!” Donovan swore.

“What the hell is going on?” Ethan demanded. “Will someone tell me what the fuck I’m missing out on here?”

“It’s Kyle Phillips,” Steele bit out. “He led the team that assisted us in Del Rio. One of Resnick’s pets if I’m not mistaken. He’s missing the tip of his left ring finger.”

Sam’s lips curled into a snarl, his eyes blazed with rage. “What the fuck is Resnick’s man doing in Shea Peterson’s home?”

Garrett and Donovan looked at each other at the same time. “Get Nathan and Shea back in here now,” Garrett barked.

SHEA smiled as Nathan disappeared from view and she turned to stare out over the lake while she waited for him to return. It truly was a beautiful spot and secluded from the others. It afforded Nathan privacy while still being close to his family.

She took another step toward the lake, inhaling the scent of pine, honeysuckle and the slight damp in the air from the mist blowing in.

What if she and Nathan really could have a life here? Together? Now that one of KGI’s team had gone in search of Grace—well, if they found her, brought her to Shea and offered them their protection—what was to say that they couldn’t live here? Under the protection and umbrella of KGI?

It was pretty fanciful and she was way jumping the gun, but how else were she and Nathan ever going to have a life together if Shea didn’t factor in everything into the equation?

Sometimes things just weren’t simple, and this was just such a case. Maybe she and Grace would forever be running. Maybe they’d never be truly safe. Did Shea dare throw caution to the wind and settle here with Nathan and trust that KGI could handle any problems that arose?

She sighed and started to turn back toward the house. It did no good to dwell on the future when the present was still so up in the air. One day at a time. What mattered now was that Grace was found and that both of them stayed out of sight until Nathan and his brothers could determine who wanted them and why.

She hadn’t fully rotated when she was knocked off balance by a hard body from behind. A strong arm snaked around her, preventing her fall, while a hand was clamped tight over her mouth.

Fear and panic exploded through her. She kicked, struggled and tried to scream, but the grip only tightened.

Nathan!

“Easy with her,” a second man barked from behind her. “Resnick’s orders were that under no circumstances was she to be harmed.”

Oh God. Resnick. He was the man Donovan wanted to talk to—had already talked to about her and Grace. Son of a bitch. She’d known it was a mistake. A huge mistake to trust anyone!

She tried to focus her mind, to make that connection to Nathan, when a sharp prick in her arm had her making a muffled sound of pain from behind her captor’s hand.

“Sorry, Miss Peterson. It had to be done. I can’t have you using your telepathy to alert anyone to our presence.”

The world did this crazy swinging thing, and black spots floated in and out of her vision.

The hell of it was, the man actually did sound regretful. The grip eased around her body, and then she was simply swung over the second man’s shoulder and he ran toward the drop-off as if her weight was negligible.

She was too drugged to scream when a helicopter suddenly appeared, hovering at the very edge, so close that it would only take a small jump to clear the space between the cliff’s edge and the inside of the chopper.

Oh God, no, surely he wasn’t going to…

He never hesitated. He ran and then they were airborne for the briefest of moments before they hit the floor of the helicopter with enough force to knock the breath from her.

He tore off his mask and stared down at her, his eyes clouded with worry. He was young. And handsome. And there were at least three of him.

“Are you all right?” he shouted as the helicopter swooped away.

She wanted to kick him right back out of the helicopter. Of course she wasn’t okay. But she couldn’t speak. It was all she could do to even keep her eyes open. Her tongue was dry and stuck to the roof of her mouth. She was so damned scared that she wanted to curl into a ball and cry.

But that wasn’t going to help her now.

Her eyes rolled back into her head and still she fought to remain conscious.

Nathan.

It was weak. A mere whisper. A plea for him to hear her.

But all that awaited her was suffocating darkness that closed in from every direction.