Rules In Deceit

“I’d finally worked out what I would say to our baby the day she asked about her father, but then you walked right into Blackhawk Security. Have to admit—” she fitted her shirt back into place out of the corner of his eye “—I never saw it coming.”

Braxton turned. No point in lying. He’d never been able to stay away from her for more than a few days at a time. Even now, he was caught in the undeniable gravitational pull of hers, and he wouldn’t be able to fight it much longer. “I always planned on coming back.”

“Did you ever think you never should’ve left in the first place?” Her expression shifted from genuine curiosity to outright fury. The small muscles along her jaw flexed. Liz took a step back as he approached then brushed right past him. As though his revelation ignited that anger she desperately fought to control. “Maybe then we wouldn’t be in this mess.”

He wrapped his hand around hers and pulled her into him. Lean muscle flexed along her arm, and he imagined all too easily exploring every inch of the strength under her clothing. Every mole. Every scar. The soft curve of her lower abdominals where their baby thrived. He brushed his thumb over the back of her hand and loosened his grip. Desire surged through him, a mere taste of the chaos capable of rendering him completely useless when she was around. Damn what she thought of him, damn the investigation or the reason he’d stayed away from her for the last sixteen weeks. She had to know the truth. She deserved to know.

Liz stared up at him with that gorgeous fire in her expression—almost daring him to make his next move—but didn’t wrench out of his hold.

He forced the words to the tip of his tongue, but no sound left his mouth. Licking his lips, he dropped his hand from hers. No. Now wasn’t the time. Because he couldn’t lose her again. Every decision he’d made over his career had a price, but he’d never expected her to pay for any of it. And she would once she learned the truth.

“You’re right. I never should’ve left, and I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you and our baby if that’s what you want.” He framed her hips between both hands, his thumbs grazing her lower belly. Braxton stepped into her, relishing in the slight widening of her eyes, of her exhale rushing against the skin along his neck. “Starting now.”

Reaching past her, he skimmed his hand over the top of the dresser and grabbed the yellow envelope resting on top. He slid it between them and handed it to her. Everything that’d happened today at Blackhawk Security—the bomb, the shooter in the garage—had to do with what was in the envelope. “You asked me why I came back. Why now? This is why.”

She took the envelope from him, the furrow between her dark eyebrows deepening. She slid her fingers inside the envelope and pulled out the short stack of surveillance photos he’d collected from Oversight’s servers. Photos of her. Confusion deepened the lines across her forehead. “What is this?”

She blinked as realization hit her hard.

He wanted to reach for her. To comfort her. But didn’t.

The envelope protested in her hand. Liz shook her head and took a step back. She shuffled through the stack of photos, one after the other. But studying photos wouldn’t make the truth any less real. Someone had been hunting her for months. “Wh-how did you get these?”

“I programmed an alert into Oversight’s code to notify me when you were the subject before I left the agency.” If he hadn’t, she—and their baby—wouldn’t be standing here right now. “I started getting alerts six days ago. Right after I read about Dalton Meyer’s murder and discovered Oversight’s feeds were hijacked.”

“So many photos. Outside the office, getting into my car.” Her voice barely registered. Too soft. Too full of fear. The muscles down his spine responded. She swallowed hard, eyes wide. “This one is from a traffic camera as I drove home.” Liz ran a hand through her hair as her mouth parted. “Someone’s been watching me? For how long?”

“No, someone has been stalking you.” He picked out one particular photo from the back and handed it to her. A photo of her leaving her own home. Whoever had been watching her knew where she lived. “And I’m here to find out why.”

Chapter Four (#u91195bcc-8762-5a6b-b75e-14e24253278a)

“I don’t think the Sovereign Army took these pictures.” Elizabeth dropped the photos in her hand to her side. She’d been followed for weeks—maybe months. She’d had no idea, but she couldn’t let the fear spreading at the back of her mind take control. What else had her stalker uncovered? Her head spun. Nausea festered. Focus. She forced herself to breathe deep. She’d started a new life here, loved her job, was having a baby. Nobody would take that from her. Not some extremist group. Not Braxton. And not whoever had tried to blow her up three hours ago.

She headed for the door. Braxton was a former analyst. Analysts ran secure networks. All she needed was a computer. She trusted her team—trusted Vincent—with her life, but she had to see the Sovereign Army taking credit for planting that bomb at Blackhawk Security herself. The shooter in the garage, the photos Braxton uncovered. Neither of those were part of the group’s MO. “An extremist group bent on protecting Americans’ privacy wouldn’t run illegal surveillance on their target.”

“They didn’t seem so concerned about protecting privacy when they threatened to leak officials’ browsing histories to the public.” Braxton cut her off, his mountainous shoulders blocking her view of the door. “I watch the news, too. These guys have been known to do what it takes to get their message across, violently if forced. The best shot we have to uncovering who’s coming after you is Oversight’s backdoor access.”

The breath she’d been holding rushed from her lungs as the past threatened to overrun the present. She fought back the memories, but how could she when all she thought about when she closed her eyes was the last time she’d accessed that code?

“I told you I can’t do that.” Her voice rose with each word. He should understand that better than anyone. He’d been there. He’d watched how Oversight’s trial run had affected her. No. He didn’t get to decide how they handled the threat on her life. He’d lost that right the night he’d walked out on her all those months ago. “This is what we’re going to do. First, you’re going to get out of my way, so I can review the bomb squad’s findings for myself. Second, we’re going to arrange to get Vincent the slugs we pulled from the windshield. If he gets a hit on ballistics, you get to keep your end of the deal, and we pretend this whole thing never happened. Go our separate ways.”

“I’ll keep my end of the deal—” Braxton closed in on her “—but if he doesn’t come up with our suspect, I expect you to keep yours.”

“Agreed.” Silence settled between them. It wasn’t an empty silence. It was full of anger, of something else Elizabeth didn’t want to identify. “You’re pushing me out of the investigation by trying to keep me behind a computer. Why?”