Midnight Alias: A Killer Instincts Novel (43 page)

For the moment, she was satisfied with lying next to him and watching him sleep. She rolled onto her side so she could admire his classically handsome features, the stubble rising on his strong jaw, the way his lips quirked as if he were having a seriously pleasurable dream.

As the sunlight streamed in through the curtainless window in her barren bedroom, she had to wonder what time it was. She felt like they’d slept in, which was a luxury she never indulged in. A glance at the alarm clock resting on the floor confirmed it. Eleven o’clock. Man, they must have been pretty exhaus—

“Shit!” she exclaimed, stumbling off the bed.

Trevor woke with a start, blinking rapidly. His hand shot out in search of a weapon.

Isabel quickly eased his panic. “It’s fine, everything’s fine.”

With a yawn, he slid up to a sitting position and rubbed his eyes. “What’s going on?”

“I was supposed to meet Heaven.” She grabbed a pair of jeans and a cable-knit sweater, then walked over to the dresser in search of some socks. “God, I feel like such an ass! I promised I’d pick her up at her apartment at nine—I’m two hours late, damn it.”

“Don’t beat yourself up,” Trevor said gruffly. “I’m sure she’ll understand.”

“I hope so.” Isabel marched toward the door. “I’m going to get dressed and drive over to her place.”

“I’ll come with you.”

“No, it’ll be better if you aren’t there. She’s already jumpy enough. She might decide not to check herself into rehab if I show up with a strange man.”

“I’m a strange man?”

Her lips lifted in a smile. “A stranger,” she corrected.

Trevor grinned, and the sight brought a rush of warmth to her chest. She loved seeing this man smile. “I’ll wait here then. If you don’t mind, that is.”

“I don’t mind,” she said softly.

She headed for the bathroom, where she washed up and got dressed before poking her head back into the bedroom. “The rehab facility is nearby, but it might take a few hours to get her settled. I’ll probably be back late afternoon.” She faltered, unaccustomed to having someone other than herself in this empty apartment. “There’s no food in the fridge, but the diner around the corner is pretty good. And I don’t have a TV, but I own a lot of books. I . . . uh . . . I’m not used to guests.”

Trevor shrugged. “I’ll manage. Go help that girl, Iz. I’ll be waiting for you when you get back.”

She experienced another burst of heat, feeling like a silly schoolgirl as she left the apartment. She’d never shared her personal space with anyone before, let alone a strong, sexy man she might actually have a relationship with. God. A relationship. The notion was utterly terrifying.

Dismissing the troubling thoughts, she walked down the two flights of stairs and exited the building through the back doors, sprinting toward the Mercedes she drove whenever she was in the city. The Honda she’d bought under Candy Cane’s name had been ditched behind a strip mall, and Isabel didn’t plan on going back for it. She was done with Candy. And, for the first time in her life, she was actually considering taking a break from her work. She wasn’t sure how long Trevor planned on sticking around, but as long as he was here, she didn’t want to be anyone other than herself.

She reached Heaven’s neighborhood in record time, breaking more than a few traffic laws as she sped toward the dancer’s apartment. She hoped Heaven was still there, and that the girl wouldn’t reject her help because of her tardiness.

When she finally arrived at the seedy, low-income building, she spotted an ambulance parked by the curb.

An alarm went off in Isabel’s head. As her throat tightened and her pulse quickened, she shut off the engine and slid out of the car, reaching the building’s entrance just as the double doors opened and a pair of paramedics exited. Wheeling out a stretcher.

A body bag.

Her heart dropped like a lead weight. She dashed up to the EMTs and blurted out, “What happened?”

“Can’t discuss that, ma’am,” one of the men replied.

They brushed past her. She watched in dismay as the paramedics loaded the stretcher into the back of the ambulance.

“She’s dead,” a hoarse voice said from behind her. “The girl on the second floor.”

Isabel pivoted and found an elderly woman with shoulder-length gray hair standing on the building’s front stoop, lighting up a smoke.

“Was her name Heaven?” Isabel demanded. As an afterthought, she realized she’d never even taken the time to learn Heaven’s real name.

The woman spoke in a raspy voice that hinted at too many cigarettes. “Nah, her name was Laura. Laura Monroe.”

Monroe.

The air swooshed out of her lungs.
No, damn it
.

“How did she die?”

“Overdose. Girl was a raging junkie.”

Isabel swallowed. “Accidental?”

“Nah, hon, there was a note. Junkie
and
suicidal. Going straight to hell, that one.” The old woman gave a disgusted sneer before flicking her cigarette on the sidewalk and walking back into the building.

Feeling numb, Isabel returned to her car.

Two hours.

She’d been two hours late and Heaven had fucking
killed herself
.

God. This was her fault. She’d promised Heaven she’d be here this morning. Had Heaven waited for her? Sat there staring at the clock, slowly losing hope when Isabel hadn’t knocked on the door? When had she injected that lethal dose? At ten? At eleven?

Maybe when Isabel had been lying in bed admiring Trevor Callaghan’s gorgeous face.

Tears burned her eyes. Her chest was so tight she couldn’t draw air into her lungs, and as she sat there with her fingers trembling over the steering wheel, she fought for breath and realized that she’d let another person down.

There’s nothing you can do for Heaven now. Go home. Trevor’s waiting
.

Yes, Trevor was waiting, wasn’t he?

But who was he waiting
for
? Isabel Roma, the easygoing, confident woman she pretended to be?

God, who was she kidding here? She could never be the kind of woman Trevor Callaghan needed. She was only capable of being other people. And Trevor, damn him, always seemed to make her lose focus, distract her from the only damn thing she was good at.

Brushing the tears from her eyes, she started the engine and pulled away from the curb. Instead of heading back to SoHo, she drove north. And watched the city disappear in the rearview mirror.

* * *

“So your team of mercenaries owns a private jet,” Olivia remarked, glancing around the cabin of the plane. “I’m impressed.”

In all honesty, she was far more impressed with the man sitting next to her. Luke still hadn’t brought up the spur-of-the-moment declaration she’d made at the cabin, even though she knew it must be weighing on his mind. It was weighing on hers too, but she had yet to find the courage to address the issue.

Last night, after she’d voiced those three unexpected words, she’d promptly burst into tears, the adrenaline finally getting the best of her. Without hesitation, Luke had whisked her back to the hospital, but they hadn’t had a chance to talk. They’d been too busy reassuring Olivia’s mother, who’d been moved to another room after a nurse discovered Adam’s body on the floor beside Kathleen’s bed.

Olivia had spent an hour with a pair of police detectives, but she didn’t think they stood a chance of finding the goon who’d disguised himself as an orderly and murdered Adam. After she’d given her statement, she’d stayed with her mother while Luke and the rest of his team tied up loose ends and made arrangements. Luke had returned to the hospital this morning, and he’d been an absolute rock. He stood beside her while she signed her mother’s discharge papers, kept an arm around Kathleen’s fragile shoulders as they walked out to the car, got them settled on the jet in the small hangar of the private airfield. Through it all, his dark eyes had studied Olivia with quiet curiosity, but he hadn’t once pushed for the discussion she knew they would eventually have.

Now they were seated in the plush chairs in the jet’s cabin, with the murmur of voices around them, and she still wasn’t sure she was ready for this.

But apparently Luke’s patience had run out.

“Are we going to talk about it?” he asked, ignoring her attempt at chatting about airplanes.

She snuck a quick peek at the others, feeling uncomfortable about having this conversation where anyone could overhear them. In the seats ahead of them, Sullivan was telling Liam Macgregor about someone named Evangeline—in a tone so reverent that Olivia decided Evangeline was a very lucky girl. Kane, Ethan, and Holden sat on the opposite aisle, discussing the pros and cons of rocket launchers. Olivia’s mother was asleep on the other side of the cabin, an afghan tucked over her. That was it for passengers—the other contractors had gone off to wherever it was on-call soldiers went, and Trevor had stayed in Manhattan, which she suspected had something to do with Isabel.

Although nobody seemed to be paying any attention to her and Luke, she still felt self-conscious as she shifted in her seat so they were face-to-face.

“You said you loved me,” he reminded her.

She bit her lip before answering. “I know.”

“Did you mean it?” His confidence seemed to slip a little. “Or was it one of those I-almost-died-and-now-I’m-so-relieved-I’ll-say-anything deals?”

She had to laugh. “Does that happen to you often?” Then she hesitated. “Last night was the first time I almost died. And . . . it was also the first time I told a man I love him.”

Luke waited, his dark eyes focused on her face.

“I meant it,” she admitted.

His broad shoulders sagged. “But?”

“How is this going to work? You live in some Mexican compound, I live . . . well, nowhere at the moment.”

And wasn’t that a scary thought. Luke insisted she needed to leave the Big Apple, at least until they gauged the kind of fallout Vince’s death would cause. Apparently Ric De Luca was scrambling to cover his tracks now that his coffee import company had been implicated in drug smuggling, but Luke and the others predicted the blame would be laid at Vince’s door. With Vince dead, De Luca would ensure that the burden of guilt fell on his associate rather than himself.

Even Isabel had agreed that the big boss would probably get off scot-free. The coffee warehouse was owned by a dummy corporation and couldn’t be tied to the outfit, and with Vince out of the picture, the Mob boss had the perfect fall guy. The only remaining threat was Carter Dane, who was in federal custody and likely to testify against De Luca in exchange for a deal, but nobody had much faith in Dane’s ability to stay alive. According to Isabel, De Luca would find a way to eliminate Dane before the double agent could do much damage.

But even though De Luca currently had his plate full, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t retaliate against Olivia. Luke said it was unlikely, but she couldn’t take the chance, which meant staying far away from New York. Besides, she’d already dropped out of this semester’s classes, so what would she do in the city? Not work at the Diamond, that’s for sure. She would need to find another job, though, if she wanted to support herself and her mom.

Luke, apparently, had other ideas. “You and Kathleen could stay with me for a while.” When she raised her eyebrows, he added, “Until you figure out what you want to do, and where you want to go.” His corded throat worked as he swallowed. “Have you ever been to Colorado?”

She wrinkled her forehead. “No. Why?”

“Trevor has a condo in Aspen, and he mentioned that he’s putting it on the market. I’m thinking of taking it off his hands.”

Surprise filtered through her. “Why would you do that? I thought you liked living with your men.”

“I do. Or rather, I did. But let’s be honest—a compound in rural Mexico is no place for you or your mom. Kathleen needs to be near a good medical center and I assume you’ll want to go back to school, right? You can finish your undergrad in Colorado, and there are some really good teaching programs there, if you choose not to go to law school . . .” He trailed off, meeting her eyes. “I only say that because I know at one point you wanted to be a teacher.”

She shook her head, dazed. “I did, but . . .”

“But law offers more money and stability, right?”

“Well, yeah.”

“If you had a choice, would teaching be your first pick?”

After a moment, she nodded.

“Then you need to pursue it,” he said simply.

Olivia was torn between yielding to the rush of happiness that filled her and listening to the practical voice of reason in her head. As usual, the latter won. “I suppose you’ll just support me and my mother indefinitely,” she said dryly.

“Yes.”

“I can’t let you do that, Luke. I can take care of us on my own. I’ve been doing it since I was sixteen.”

“Fine, then we’ll take care of each other,” he said, echoing what her mother had told her back at the safe house. He leaned close to cup her chin with his hands. “Equal partners, Liv. If you want to work while you finish school, I won’t stop you. If you want to go halfsies on rent and bills, fine. But just know that you won’t be doing it alone anymore. I’ll be right there with you, carrying half the load.”

“Why?” she whispered.

“Because I love you.”

At his smoky voice, heat spread through her. “You love me.”

“I know, it’s weird, huh? I’ve never been anti-love or anything, but it’s still a new feeling for me. I think I kind of like it.” He slanted his head. “So what do you say? Come to Colorado with me?”

Olivia bit her lip. “I don’t know . . .”

“Are you still worried about my job?”

“That’s part of it.”

Luke sighed. “I won’t stop doing what I do, but I can promise you I’ll always be careful. No matter where I am or how dangerous the job is, I will make it my goal in life to come home to you. Just give me the chance.”

Indecision washed over her. God, she wanted to say yes. She wanted to give him that chance. But every time she thought about him being away while she sat at home not knowing if he’d come back, she remembered all the heartache her father had caused her mom.