Dead Reckoning (32 page)

Reece grabbed Shiloh and yanked her into a corner. “Shh.”

She nodded, pain smearing across her sweaty brow.

He motioned to the side and led her into a storefront. They worked their way through the quiet shop and out the back door. Up a flight of groaning iron stairs.

“Where are they?”

Frozen, Reece held a hand up, staring down between the black diamond grate underfoot. Shiloh pressed back. Cement dribbled down.

A half-dozen figures drifted through the alley like ghouls haunting the living. Angry words shot back and forth. They were almost in the clear. Thank
God nobody
—

“There! On the fire escape!”

Reece dove into Shiloh, knocking her through the broken window. They landed with a thud—she yelped and arched her back. Without time to assess her injury, he pulled her to her feet. “We’ve got about fifty yards. Can you make it?”

“Yes,” she ground out, her face pale even in the darkened room.

He nodded, wishing he could erase her pain. Later. They hurried through the building. Voices and slamming noises played hide and seek with them.

Finally, they slipped through a door into a furnished flat. Reece gently turned the lock. They jogged to a back room. To the matching bookcases flanking a tall window. He lifted the window seat, revealing a very cramped space. “Get in.”

Shiloh sucked in a breath. “You’re kidding.”

“Do it.”

She complied, her petite frame consuming a large portion of the space. He crawled in after her, their bodies tangling in the darkness.

“There's not enough room.”

“Shh.” He eased the lid closed, waited for it to catch.

Click.

Hands over his head, Reece applied a subtle pressure to the wood running perpendicular to the floor—a crawl space he’d rigged under the bookcase wall.

He nudged the panel out of the way. “Slide up.”

Shiloh hesitated, then scooted into the opening. Seconds later, Reece dragged himself in and toed the panel shut. The space gave them just enough room to stretch their legs as they lay on the dusty cement. He settled his back against the wall, waiting.

“Anything?” A voice rang out.

Shiloh took in a sharp, quiet breath and stiffened. Reece touched her arm to reassure her.

“Nothing.”

“Check all the rooms, cabinets, sinks, floorboards.”

Seconds later, Reece heard the window seat open. He gritted his teeth.

“There's a window open in the upstairs room.”

“Let's go! That's where they went.” The floor rattled. Dust rained on Reece's head. He jerked his head, right into something solid—Shiloh's head. Pain shot across his brow.

Shiloh grunted.

He’d apologize when it was safe to talk. He gave up trying to be comfortable. Although he’d used this spot once before, he’d never had to share it with anyone. Next time he built a
hiding place, he’d have to make the space slightly larger. Not much bigger, or it’d be too easy for the enemy to find.

He closed his eyes, his mind logging every creak and shift in the boards. It took more than twenty minutes for those who’d come after them to give up. Reece waited another twenty before whispering, “You okay?”

“I have glass in my back.”

“Turn toward me,” he said.

She scooted, her hand catching his jaw. “Sorry.” Braced on her side, she let out a soft sigh.

Reece ran his hand gently along her back. Something sharp pricked his palm. “Found it.” He determined the glass wasn’t big enough to have dug too deep into her skin. He gripped it and tugged it out.

Shiloh groaned. She must’ve leaned into him, because her hair brushed against his chin. The fruity scent of her shampoo teasing his nose.

“I think that's it.” He let his hand retrace its path along her back, convincing himself it was to check for more glass.

“Is this your apartment?”

“One of them.” He propped his head on his fist. “Sorry, it's not the Ritz.”

“We’re alive.”

Silence again draped their hiding place. He shouldn’t admit how much this time alone with her satisfied a long-ignored ache. It felt good and right to be with her. His mind rushed to some moment in the future when their lives weren’t in danger and they could slow down, get to know each other.

Shiloh hissed as she repositioned her legs.

“How's your ankle?”

“Fine.” She sighed, her warm breath fanning his neck.

He liked this, having her close, being in each other's arms … sort of. His heart skipped a beat, realizing how much he enjoyed this.

And that was dangerous. Very dangerous.

He needed to steer his thoughts to higher ground. “You did great today.”

“You’re a good teacher.”

He hadn’t meant to teach her anything. Just get what they needed and get out. If she put her mind to it, Shiloh Blake could be one of the best covert operatives walking the globe.

Which meant she’d be in danger for the rest of her life.

His heart pulsed.

No. He couldn’t do that. Not to
her
. He wanted her safe. In his arms.

“Let's move to the roof. We can scope the streets, see if they’re still here. If it's clear, we’ll go to a safe house.” With that, Reece guided them out of the hiding place.

As they crept along the narrow hall, Shiloh guarded her steps and ignored the dull ache throbbing against her ankle. His hand curled around hers as they slipped over creaking boards and past peeling paint. Reassured by the firmness of his grasp and the confidence with which he stole through the darkened hall, Shiloh followed him to the dank stairwell. Nerves zipping, she tried to listen past her hammering heart. What if they walked out and were gunned down?

She tugged back.

Reece shifted, and she noticed the weapon he held. His eyes questioned her. When she didn’t respond, he continued until they hunkered before the door to the roof.

“Wait here,” he whispered. Carefully, he pushed back the door. It creaked. Groaned.

Shiloh hauled in a breath and held it.

With stealth and speed, he ran hunched over and then flattened himself against the roof. Only then did she let out the captive breath. He peeked over a two-foot ledge. Just as

quickly, he jerked back. A sharp nod and tightened lips told of his frustration.

At his prodding, Shiloh scurried to his side. She lay next to him, propped on her forearms. “What's wrong?”

“They’re watching the building. We’ll have to wait till dark.”

Checking the sky, Shiloh knew the wait would be at least an hour, maybe two. How could they just sit for two hours? When Reece rolled onto his back, a cool breeze carried his unique, crisp and clean scent to her.

Shiloh pushed her thoughts to the mission. Away from Reece. In the cramped space, his body heat had kept her warm. Up here as dusk blanketed the city in pinks and greys, a chill trickled down her back. She’d never admit how much she missed the closeness of those deadly minutes.

Danger leapt all around them, chasing and threatening. Yet she felt as safe and peaceful as if napping by a quiet stream. Unfortunately, that quiet stream led to the turbulent waters they’d encountered at Moreaux's. Khalid wasn’t who he said he was. He’d lied, deceived her. His betrayal gouged a hole in her heart.

When Moreaux had mentioned Khalid's involvement, Reece hadn’t batted an eye. “Did you know?” she whispered.

“No.”

She peeked at him in disbelief. “You didn’t know about Khalid?”

“I suspected, but didn’t have proof.”

Why was she the only one surprised by Khalid's involvement? “I can’t believe he lied to me.” Sorrow clawed her soul to pieces. “I thought I knew him.” Tears burned the back of her eyes. She blinked them back but felt her composure crumbling.

Reece nudged her shoulder. “Hey.”

The softness of his word drew out a tear. “The one man I thought I could trust—and I couldn’t. It turns out I didn’t even know him. This is just like my—” A sob choked her. She squeezed her eyes shut.

Arms encircled her. Reece rubbed her shoulder. “Shh.”

Burrowed into the warmth of his hold, she let her agony free. All these years she’d run from the brutality of her father's career and the pain it had unleashed on their family, only to become fiancée to the exact same type of man. And now she lay in hiding, in the strong arms of yet another betrayer.

“You’re different,” she blurted, startled by her own yearning for Reece to be different.

He kissed her ear.

She turned her head to his, feeling his breath dashing against her jawline. “I hated you, thinking you were just like my father.”

He didn’t respond.

“I don’t know that I can ever forgive him. When my mother died, I promised myself I wouldn’t let that happen to me again. But it did—I walked right into the middle of it, and Khalid died. I didn’t even see it coming.” A breath shuddered out. “In a lot of ways you’re like my father, too, yet different.” Why was she rambling? Did she want to convince Reece she didn’t hate him? Or convince herself?

“Jude Blake is one of my heroes.” Reece's deep voice rattled her ear. “As a trainee, I studied his methods, watched tapes of him at work. Everyone admired him.” His thumb traced maddening circles along her arm. “But nobody saw what it did to his family … until it was too late.”

“When my mother was killed, it shattered me,” she said, startled at the raw burning at the back of her throat. Normally, the pain came out with vehemence and fury. “I was terrified when my father went back to work. Wondered if I would be the next victim of his career. Oh, sure—he said the agency
guaranteed my safety, but they said that about my mother too. All his talk about God and trying to make amends …”

“But if he gave up, if he surrendered, the enemy would’ve won.”

“And when does the family win?”

On his side, Reece gently rubbed her back. “So, you vowed to remove yourself from his life, and if I know how stubborn you are, you probably also promised to remain in an innocuous career that would never put loved ones in danger.”

She bit back a retort, silencing the defensiveness coursing through her veins.

“How did that work out for you? I mean, you’re out there diving and through one tragic event, you lose teammates and, ultimately, your fiancé.”

Her heart felt like it churned sand instead of blood. “What's your point?”

“Hey,” he said in a low, soothing voice. He cupped her face. “Don’t get mad. I’m just saying we can’t control when bad things happen. That's not up to us. God can take the imploding mess of our lives and turn it around.”

God? Since when did God turn anything around? Again, she silenced her urge to snap her thoughts. Somehow … somehow she felt she had something to learn from Reece.

“I’m proof. My parents were diplomats. Spent a lot of time in DC.” Reece lay back, rocks grinding between his back and the roof. “My father was always away on business. Mom stayed home with my sister and me. She entertained regularly—weekends, nights, days.”

Why is he telling me this?

“I was a senior when the scandal broke.”

“What scandal?”

“Remember hearing about the Maryland Madame? The one who ran an elite call-girl ring, entertaining dignitaries, politicians, ambassadors, and executives alike?”

Surely he didn’t mean …

“My father divorced her and abandoned her—and us. Two years later, he died of alcohol poisoning. I was bitter. Didn’t care. Glad he was gone, even gloated that his death had been painful, that maybe he’d felt some of what he inflicted on me and my sister.”

“What about your mother?”

“Federal pen for the last fifteen years.”

“I-I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, me too. Funny thing is, I hated my father more. Couldn’t look in the mirror for a long time. I look just like him.”

Shiloh searched his face and wished she could search his mind to see how he’d managed to become the incredible man he was with such a sordid family tale.

“How did you … ?” She swallowed. Could she ask that question? Dusk loomed, descending with the dark blanket of evening.

“How did I go on?” He had read her mind, and in his words, she heard the hint of a laugh. “Through no fault of my own. At first, I wanted to hurt anyone and everyone in my path. Even my older sister. She's like you. Doesn’t take much flak. Told me to get straightened out before I ended up in jail. So I joined the Navy.”

“Ah, that explains the haircut.”

He laughed. “Six months in, a chaplain saw my pain and rode my case.” Again he chuckled. “Said I was running from God. Man, was I ever, as fast and hard as I could. He helped me get turned around.”

“You’re a Christian?”

“How do you think I handle what I do? I give it to God every night before I sleep.”

Curse the darkness! She wanted to see his eyes. See if he was serious. “My father claimed to convert to Christianity.”

“He did.”

Shiloh stilled, half expecting Reece to try to shove his religion down her throat. But when he didn’t, she took the chance to ask him about it. “Don’t you think religion's just a crutch? A label people use to cover their inability to provide answers for their problems? I mean, God hasn’t exactly helped me.”

“When have you let Him? He's not like Hostage Rescue— He's not going to come in with flash-bangs and door rams. If you’ve shut Him out, how can you expect Him to help when your brick and mortar world is bombed?” Quiet lingered as the darkness deepened around them. Finally, Reece tilted his head. Moonlight sparkled in his eyes. “You said I’m like your dad … going to hold that against me?”