It's Always Been You (4 page)

It’s time for you to stop running. I’m not the one you love.

Did he mean Travis? That she loved Travis?

So had Jase been lying to her all along?

Caitlin admitted there was something viscerally familiar about Travis when he walked into the room. Her mind didn’t know him, but there was
something
, although fleeting, that drew her to him. Of course, he being a damned good-looking man skewed her senses a bit. And then he opened his mouth and nothing but hateful words spewed forth.

No. They weren’t hateful. Her words were, for that was genuine pain in his eyes when she had scorned his claim that she was his wife. And she had flaunted another man in front of him.
 

Caitlin cringed with guilt.
Adulteress
came to mind. Was it adultery when she had no frigging clue that she was married?

A scuffle by the door drew her attention. She stood up in alarm when she heard the familiar muffled sound of suppressed gunfire.

She tensed when the door opened, and a man she had never seen before came in with a gun pointed at her, dragging an unconscious, hopefully-not-dead Marine into the room.

“Time to go, sweetheart.”

She was screwed.

The man, who Caitlin suspected was Lewis Adler, led her up a flight of steps back into the main floor where she had originally waited to be interviewed. But instead of heading for the front entrance, he guided her to the back—the southwest wing where there was some street parking. Caitlin knew this because she had scoped out the embassy last Sunday in case she had to make an unexpected exit. Adler was doing exactly what she would have done.

He had the gun in his coat as he held her arm firmly. He whispered in her ears, “I have no problem blowing your brains out. They’d pay me whether you’re dead or alive, but you’re worth more to me alive. And if you make your deal right, you may just come out of this alive as well. Don’t try anything, or you’ll have more than the guard’s death on your hands.”

“You’re the one who shot him. Don’t try your killer’s psychology on me.”

That earned her a painful squeeze on her upper arm.

“I thought your employer was the CIA?”

The man had the gall to laugh. “Sweetheart, you can’t blame a man for wanting to make a little dough on the side.”
 

There were few people milling around in this area of the embassy, and no one paid attention to the pair of them. Finally, they reached the rear exit. Caitlin made pleading eye contact with the guard, but the Marine only looked at Adler and inclined his head.
 

“God, do you have everyone on your payroll?” Caitlin groused as she was dragged toward a street corner.
 

“There’s a CIA station at the embassy. I work here, girl.”

Great. She just walked into a trap. She dug in her heels and stopped walking. Maybe she could make a run for it. Adler showed her the imprint of the gun’s muzzle through the thin fabric of his trench coat.

“Listen, Ms. Kincaid. Do you see that mother with her kid across the street?”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Do you really want to test that theory right now?” Adler looked at her cruelly. “Get fuckin’ moving.”

He jerked her to start walking again as they headed down the street that ran parallel to the length of the embassy. They stopped; she heard Adler curse. It appeared his contacts were late. He started getting agitated as the minutes ticked by. Caitlin bit back her tongue before she could make a smart-ass remark that might successfully put a bullet through her head. Jase always did say her mouth got them into trouble.

“Where the fuck are they?” Adler muttered as he looked at his watch and craned his neck to look up the street. Caitlin was figuring out how to make her getaway. There were too many people, which would have been great for getting herself lost in the crowd. But if Adler was as sadistic as he sounded, she couldn’t risk innocent bystanders getting hurt, even if it were to save herself.

A familiar sensation crept up her spine. Oh no. Not now. She tried to control the surge of adrenalin that would release the ugliness within her. A late model Audi sped down the street and screeched to a halt in front of them.

“You guys are late.”

“Komarov had some last minute change of plans. He wants the girl alive.” A bald man with a Russian accent stepped out of the car and opened the back door. He grabbed Caitlin from Adler and whispered in her ear. “But if you give us a problem, you’ll be ending up like your boyfriend. And we’ll make it look like an accident.”
 

These men killed Jase. She was so tired of people threatening to kill her.

Fury joined the adrenalin surge to form the worst nightmare her enemies could ever imagine. She resisted the push inside the car, which solicited a quick punch to her gut. Pain was the final stimuli. Her veins popped as power coursed through her sinewy flesh, and before a mindless rage took over her entire being, her last thought was:
They have no idea what they have unleashed.

Her mind blanked.

*****

Travis burst out of the southwest entrance of the embassy with Nate. A guard had reported seeing Lewis Adler leave with a blonde woman about five minutes ago. He had ignored Ms. Lopez’s warning to let them handle the abduction because he would be damned if he wasted another minute. He had no weapon on him, but that didn’t mean he was any less deadly. He had taken men down with his bare hands before.

There was a commotion down the street that had drawn a couple of spectators.

No!
His mind screamed. He couldn’t be too late. Travis ran in that direction.
 

“Nate,” he yelled. “You’re on stealth.”
 

Nate nodded as he dematerialized into the crowd.
 

He reached a haphazardly parked Audi. Two men were down with bullet holes in their head. Sarah was standing over another man whose nose was clearly broken. She had a gun pointed at him. The man had an outstretched arm begging her to let him live, but she was staring down at him with an expression so lifeless that it raised goose bumps on his skin.
 

“Sarah?”

The gun shifted to him.
Shit
.

“She’s crazy, man. She’s fucking crazy,” the man on the ground said.

Her pupils were dilated.
What the fuck?

“Sarah? Babe, it’s me. Travis.” Fuck. That was really stupid. She didn’t fucking know him. The hand on the gun tightened.

“Caitlin.” Her eyes blinked.
That’s it.

“Caitlin. Give me the gun, babe.” Travis inched closer and spotted Nate making his move behind her. The finger on the trigger squeezed just as Nate knocked her arm upward and wrestled her to the ground.

“Don’t hurt her!” Travis yelled.

Nate grunted as Sarah landed an elbow into his gut. She spun her legs in an upward scissor, the momentum bringing her back to her feet. When had she become Bruce Lee?

She came right at him. Her fist flying out so fast, he barely had time to dodge the blow. He came up under her and had her in a sleeper hold. She struggled. Damn, she was strong.
 

Too strong
, Travis noted grimly.

“I’m sorry, babe,” Travis whispered as her struggles diminished with the reduced blood supply to her brain. He noted belatedly that Nate had gone after the man with the broken nose. Security swarmed around them as Sarah finally succumbed to his stranglehold.

Travis swept her up in his arms and marched back to the embassy.

*****

“You’re so beautiful, sunshine girl.”

“Keep that thing away from me.”

“Sex hair. You look thoroughly fucked.”

Laughter.

“I love you, Sarah.”

Caitlin opened her eyes. That was new. The recurring dream always ended with the laughter. In the dream she was in bed, a rumpled white sheet partially covering her nakedness. The window was open, an ocean breeze fluttering the gauzy drapes. A face was blurry and blocked mostly by a smartphone taking pictures of her. Travis. It was his voice. Either the dream was a memory or a complete figment of her subconscious.

Her eyes took in where she was. She had woken up earlier, disoriented and a bit panicked. A soothing baritone voice coaxed her to take some water and, she suspected, a sedative. She always roused alert, this grogginess was drug-induced.
 

She blacked out and probably scared the shit out of everyone. The embassy wouldn’t want to protect an unstable person. Dangerous. Liability. She wouldn’t be surprised if Travis Blake hightailed it out of Berlin and figured the best recourse was to let the dead stay buried. Only Jase knew how to talk her down from losing control, which was why when they were being pursued by assassins, she was herself.

A voice floated in from the outside room. Caitlin frowned and appraised where she was. This was not a typical budget hotel. Luxurious beddings surrounding her in such opulent warmth, she loathed to emerge from its depths. The walls were Italian plaster that was finished with a damask stencil; the room was five-star deluxe all the way.
 

She reluctantly swung her legs to the floor. Her limbs were bare. She was in her underwear.
What the hell?

Caitlin was no prude, but getting undressed by a stranger was still mortifying. She had to admit that it was probably to make her feel comfortable. She tamped back her indignation and decided to suck it up and be grateful to whoever put her into bed.

She padded to the closet. A hotel of this caliber should have a robe. Finding one, she wrapped her aching body in plush terry cotton. Her muscles were always sore after an episode, although she wouldn’t put it past whoever subdued her to use justifiable force. Neither her jaw nor head hurt, but her throat was a bit tender. Blood choke.

She opened the door and immediately spied Travis Blake standing by the window with a phone to his ear. He immediately turned to face her and ended his call. He was barefoot, his long legs encased in worn jeans, and a white undershirt outlined an impressive upper body. Her eyes tracked past his neck, the firm lips, the high-bridged manly nose, until finally, she was arrested by piercing sapphire blue eyes. Her mouth went dry as she felt the magnetic pull of pure masculine sex on a stick.
 

What the hell was wrong with her? Even if Jase lied to her, he was her man until three days ago or three months ago, depending how she defined their relationship.
And Travis is your husband
, a righteous voice nagged her.
 

“How are you feeling?”
 

Standard question.

“I’m groggy. Did you give me something?”

Travis inclined his head. “We had to sedate you.” His tone was wary. “I need to know how often you get this way.”

“By
this way
, you mean violent?”

“Sar-Caitlin. Do you remember anything at all?”

She shook her head.

Travis was silent for a beat and then, “What brings this on? Is it accidental or can you control it?”

“I can’t control it,” Caitlin replied, ignoring the first question and answering the second.

It was not lost on Travis that she was evading his question. His brows puckered into a frown. “Caitlin, I need to know what sets you off. I can’t have you on a plane 40,000 feet in the air and have you go all ninja on us.”

If the situation wasn’t so serious, she would have laughed. She didn’t think Travis was in a joking mood either. “When I feel threatened, it kicks in. Adrenalin sets it off.”

“Who did this to you, Caitlin?” Travis asked quietly. There was an underlying menace in his voice, though not directed at her.

Caitlin moved away from him and walked to the kitchen. “I’m not sure I trust you enough to tell you everything.”
 

“But you will.”
 

She cut Travis a sharp glance, but he was staring at her with determination.
 

“You’re awfully sure I’m coming back with you.”

“There’s nothing for you here except danger.” His nostrils flared. “That stunt you pulled this afternoon is all over the internet. My people are trying to clean it up, but I don’t think that’s possible. It’s already on the news.”

“What—”

“I used another identity to check into this hotel, but we still need to leave immediately. If possible, within the next two hours. I already have my plane on standby.”

“But—”

Travis closed the distance between them and gripped her shoulders. “Listen to me. The men who are after you are Russian mafia—arms dealers. I have no idea how the CIA got caught up in their mess, but you shot and killed Adler, and so far it’s a dead end. The Berlin police are taking the lead on this, and it’s out of our jurisdiction.”

“How many did I kill?”

“Caitlin, it doesn’t—”

“How many, Travis?”

“Two.”

“Why am I not in police custody?”

“The embassy and I took care of it.”

“What? How?”

“It’s not your problem anymore.”

“Travis—”

“Damn it, Sarah. I handled it, okay? Get dressed; we leave in a fucking hour.”

Childishly determined to get in the last word, she said, “My name is Caitlin.”

She turned and strode back into the bedroom.

*****

“They’ve taken her to ground.”
 

Alexandr Komarov’s gaze flickered away from his aquarium and landed on his henchman who had entered his study. His man inside the CIA had underestimated the strength of the specter agent. Adler thought they were myths, but Komarov knew better because he had a few as members of his Bratva. Unfortunately, they were away on assignments, and he had to use some of his lower level crew.

Taking down Jase Locke wouldn’t have been easy if the man hadn’t already lost half the blood in his system. He was almost dead when they shot him. He had been useless for information, refusing to give up anything on his partner. His lover.
 

Caitlin Kincaid had his money. There were rumors that she had amnesia, which would explain why Locke had nothing to bargain with. Not that the man could negotiate out the death sentence Alexandr had condemned on him. Locke murdered his two sons. There was no forgiveness for that. His sons should have been the next in line to take over the Bratva. The double-crossing Locke turned out to be an embedded deep cover agent known as specter agents—a special division of the CIA. Locke’s cover was blown—ratted out by one of the specter agents during a meeting. A bloody shootout occurred and Locke disappeared, along with $100 million of Komarov’s money.