Choices will Destroy (An FBI Romance Thriller Book 14) (35 page)

He hoped his family was ready for it.

“I’ll see you all after my meeting with the CIA. Keep me in the loop,” Gabe said, heading out.

“Callen?” Merry said, lifting a brow.

He just smiled, knowing what she was thinking. “Back to work. I’m sure everything will work out in the end and be all right.”

Merry and Zane stared at each other. No, it absolutely wasn’t. The bosses were bailing ship.

This was bad.

Very, very bad.

 
                
* * *
  B l a c k h a w k - W h i t e f o x   * * *

Damascus

When he woke, he was alone in bed. His wife and daughter were somewhere in the huge house, starting their day. They had let him sleep in on his first day of his new life. It was a nice thought, but still…Chris wasn’t happy.

This felt so wrong.

What he wanted to do was climb out of bed, have breakfast with them, and then get into his dress clothes for work. For fifteen years, he’d done the same thing repeatedly, and it had become second nature.

Now he had to force himself to change.

It wasn’t going to be easy.

As he pulled himself from bed, he tugged on his boxers. Padding across the room to the closet, he stared at his clothes.

They were all work attire.

His fun skull ties mocked him.

His white dress shirts with ‘DR’ monogramed on the cuffs taunted him.

Shit!

This sucked.

The clothes had made the man, and now they had to go too. Chris couldn’t bear wearing them anymore. They were a reminder of what was gone from his life.

Digging out a ratty old pair of sweats, he specifically chose the ones that Elizabeth had given him years ago. She’d made him go to the gym, and when he showed up in khaki’s, she nearly shit a brick.

They were his first gift from her.

And he’d never let them go. Like the Newton boxers, they were cherished.

They were old.

Worn.

Ratty.

And a part of his past.

Already, he hated his new life.

Chris wanted to weep. Then he heard his daughter downstairs. Instead of dwelling, he tugged them on, along with a t-shirt, and headed down to find his wife. She was in their kitchen, making breakfast.

“Morning, honey,” he stated, giving her a kiss.

She hugged him. “You’re all scruffy. I like it.”

He rubbed his fingers over his face. This would be the first time in fifteen years he didn't shave.

Why bother?

He didn't have anywhere to go.

“What’s for breakfast?”

“I made you eggs. I know you love them scrambled and a side of bacon.”

He sat.

When she poured him a cup of coffee, he looked down to see Bethe moving toward him.

“Hello, Elizabeth,” he said, giving her kisses on the neck. “Daddy missed you so much.”

God!

Those words hurt and for the obvious reason. His daughter was named for a woman he called sister—one he’d never see again.

Chris wanted to weep.

He wanted to rage.

But what could he do? He’d made his choice and what was done was done.

It was over.

Cyra watched his interaction. It always made her smile. Chris loved their daughter. His heart was filled with nothing but adoration for her.

“Daddy is home from now on, Bethe. We’re going to have so much fun. After we eat, we can take a walk.”

She cooed and touched his face with her chubby hand.

Chris focused on his wife. “Like you requested, we’re moving,” he stated out of the blue. “Today, I have to see a real estate agent. I’m putting the house up for sale.”

She stared at him. “Uh, I thought we’d have some time. Do you have to do it today?” Cyra asked, putting the spatula down. “Chris?”

“You said you wanted ‘out of this godforsaken, shithole town’, so I’m giving you what you wanted. You said it was Damascus and the FBI or you, so where do you want to go? It doesn’t matter to me anymore.”

And it didn't.

She took that choice away from him.

“Chris, what’s wrong?” she asked. “You don’t look right.” He was tense and instead of smiling, he looked like he was being chased by some invisible demons.

“Nothing. I’m just trying to make you happy.”

When Cyra put his food down in front of him, she touched his cheek. “You just lied to me. You’ve never done that before. You can tell me anything.”

No, he really couldn’t.

Already, he was beginning to resent leaving his job. He didn't know who he was. He didn't know what to do.”

“I’m fine. Can I eat?” he said, scooping up some eggs to blow on them. “Want some?” he asked, kissing his daughter on the cheek. She opened her mouth like a baby bird.

Cyra watched him.

The entire time, he didn't look at her once.

This wasn’t good.

“Chris, we don’t have to move. I was angry on the phone. I didn't mean we had to sell our house. I meant we have all this money, and we can travel, so let’s take a long trip.”

“Yeah, we have all this money.”

He wanted to be sick. Her words horrified him. Once more, it was all about his inheritance.

“Where do you want to go? You have more money than God, so pick a place.”

“How about we revisit our honeymoon and take Bethe with us? She can see the world and never have to worry about anything. That’s an awesome gift we can give her.”

His heart hurt.

“Yeah, money is great, isn’t it?”

He was getting angrier by the minute. All of the sudden, he felt like that was all she wanted. He wished he didn’t have that horrible curse. He wished he was born poor.

“It is. We’re lucky.”

Cyra watched him as he catered to his daughter. He was all smiles for the child, but when he glanced over at her, he was angry.

“Chris, talk to me.”

“I can’t, Cyra. Please just give me time, okay? I just need some time to adjust to being here all day. This wasn’t how I saw my future. I need to get settled in.”

She stared at him when his voice held an icy chill. “Okay.”

It was the least she could do, since he left his job.

No one spoke.

Well, that wasn’t true. Chris cooed at his little girl, shared his food, and held onto her for dear life. By the end of the meal, Cyra knew that what was coming was bad.

She’d made a mistake pressuring him into quitting his job. She thought they’d be okay, but she’d just asked him to sever a part of his life.

“Chris.”

He pushed his plate away and handed Bethe to his wife. “I’m going to go run in the gym,” he said, needing to escape. He was angry. “Just because I don’t have to keep in shape for work doesn’t mean I should let my body go to hell.”

He was angry.

Resentful.

And hurt
.

When she married him, he was an ME. When she fell in love, he was a doctor. Now he was just some rich guy, cruising through life.

He needed to think.

“You’re going to run?” she called after him, trying to lighten the mood. “Who’s chasing you?” she teased, trying to get him to smile.

“No one.”

“Chris, I brought your bag in. It’s on the table.”

He stopped dead in his tracks the second he saw it. As he approached it, his whole heart dropped. Gently, he ran his fingers over the name etched into the metal.

It had been his one-year anniversary present when he worked at the FBI. Elizabeth and Tony had picked it out for him.

            Doctor Christopher Orion Leonard

                     Chief Medical Examiner

                                Extraordinaire

Picking up the priceless bag, he headed toward the trash. Opening the lid, he dropped it in.

“We can go for our walk later. I need an hour.”

With that, he walked out.

Cyra was shocked. She didn't know what to do.

“Oh, Bethe, I think I screwed up. Daddy isn’t happy. In fact, I think I just broke him.”

The little girl chewed on her fingers as Cyra rescued his bag from the trash.

Now she had to fix it.

And fast.

Hopefully, Chris would be able to get his job back, and forgive her for making him do something he hated.

Time would tell.

She had to have hope.

 
         
* * *
  B l a c k h a w k - W h i t e f o x   * * *

James O’Brien’s

Home

When they pulled up, Elizabeth was rubbing her hand over her belly. The entire trip there, she was trying to relax and breathe deeply. Ethan was beginning to worry about his wife.

“Are you okay?” Ethan asked. “You look like you’re in pain. Do you need a doctor?”

The words hurt her heart. In the field, Chris often played personal doctor for them. Now that was gone too.

It sucked.

“I’m good, handsome. It’s just Braxton Hick’s contractions,” she muttered.

He put his hand on her belly. “Holy shit! Someone isn’t happy in there.”

She laughed. “It’s actually my body that’s not happy. It’s squeezing little TW and he’s getting cranky about it.”

He leaned over and placed his mouth close to her belly. “Hang in there, little buddy. You’re coming out in about seven weeks. Then no one is sleeping. You’ll be the king of the freaking castle.”

She snorted. “Yeah, by no one, you mean me. Like with the last two kids when you and Callen promised that you’d take shifts, but it was all me until I went back to work.”

He grinned. “You do it so well.”

“You kiss ass so well.”

“Well, when it’s your ass, I have incentive.”

She finally got it. “You’re trying to calm me down, aren’t you?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“I’m fine.”

He didn't buy that for a second. “I know you’re worried about what you’ve done. I know that when you look at James, you’re picturing Seamus and that night. You’re far from all right, baby.”

He was right. She was stirred up, but she was more worked up about Chris than the man inside. What was done was done, and she couldn’t erase it. Instead, she opted to prove to Ethan that she was good. So, she kissed him.

It was heated.

Filled with love.

And spoke of their relationship.

When she pulled away, he was grinning wickedly.

“Well, hello there, Mrs. Blackhawk.”

She snorted. “Yeah, yeah, that’s me. There’s no kissy-face on duty, so let’s go. I’ll let you watch me in action. I need a profile, and soon. We have two dead men, and not a lot to go on.”

“Remember, the warrant was denied, so we’re just here for the follow up questioning.”

She stared at him as if he’d lost his mind.

“You realized this isn’t my first day at the rodeo, right, Cowboy?”

He was aware. Before he could say anything, his phone chimed.

“Aren’t you going to get it?” she asked, pausing before opening her door.

“It’s Jay Melrose. He’s been texting me all morning to get in on this case.”

“Well, that’s not happening.”

“Yeah, I know. I told him that, but he’s desperate.”

She knew the potential blowback from letting him help. He was having a sexual relationship with one of the victims. That was a big rule breaker for Gabriel Rothschild. The last thing they needed was for the man to go off the reservation and execute the killer.

Been there and done that.

It was a lesson learned.

Vengeance wasn’t always the easiest route to an outcome.

Heading toward the porch, Ethan kept his body not far from hers. He was scanning their surroundings to make sure they were safe.

The last thing he needed was his wife getting shot.

Then it hit him.