“Sloane’s the reason you didn’t date, isn’t she?”
“Never stopped loving her, even when I thought she was gone forever.”
“That’s tragically beautiful.”
All of a sudden, the sound of kids––my kids––squealing with laughter burst through Waverly’s end of the line. I sucked in a pain-filled breath, recalling our brief interaction. Damn, they were beautiful. Both of them were the spitting image of their mother, except those icy blues. Those were all me.
“Rogan and Reagan, right?”
“They’re perfect, Duncan.”
Clearing my throat, I quickly uttered, “I’ll be back tomorrow,” then ended the call. I was fast approaching my breaking point, much more, I’d completely shatter. In my head, the urgency of knowing whether we were safe outweighed anything else, including a long, drawn out reunion with the love of my life. If only my heart understood the rationale. After all this time, it had started beating again…for her. Although that wasn’t entirely accurate anymore. There was an additional flutter to my erratic rhythm––or rather two.
My twins.
How would they react to the news? Would they accept me? Would they hate me?Fuck,I’d hate me. DNA aside, I was a stranger, not their father. They didn’t know me, didn’t know the lengths I’d go to protect them, and worse, they didn’t know I already loved them.
But they would.
Nelson deserved a raise. After a too-early-to-be-considered-morning phone call, he pulled off the impossible. He found Niall in a quaint, no-name hotel near Quantico in the town of Dumfries. His room was located on the first floor with an outside entrance, making it easy for me to watch for signs of movement from the comfort of my Jeep in the parking lot. Cup of coffee in hand, I sat and stewed, which––hindsight––may not have been the best idea I’d ever had.
By the time the sun peeked over the horizon, I was wound tight from lack of sleep and too much caffeine. I also couldn’t wait any longer. Crossing the lot, I banged on the door of room one-oh-seven with a tad more force than was necessary. A light flipped on inside, then a few seconds later, the door flew open.
“What?” His scowl melted into a grin when he saw it was me. “Duncan. Does this mean you changed your mind?”
At six foot six, I towered over Niall by a good five inches. His coppery hair was short of the sides with longer, messy waves on top. Other than the crow’s feet on the outer edges of his moss green eyes, he hadn’t aged a bit since I’d last seen him.
“We need to talk.”
Without another word, he turned and walked back into his room. It took everything in me not to lay the fucker out the second he opened the door, but I had a plan which didn’t involve witnesses or getting recorded by one of the seven video cameras I spied mounted around the hotelproperty. So I followed, kicking the door closed with the heel of my boot. Between the open suitcase lying in the middle of the small sofa and the clothes thrown haphazardly over the backs of the chairs, there was nowhere for me to sit.
Niall made himself a cup of coffee at the kitchenette, offering me one, which I declined. He began to whistle as he stirred in a packet of sugar. The tune was one I’d heard before, though I couldn’t immediately place the song. I was about to ask him what it was when he finally turned to face me.
“It’s good to see you, old friend.” He took a sip, then relaxed against the counter as if the air wasn’t thick with tension.
“We’re not friends, Niall.” I stalked farther into the room, keeping my body between him and the door, effectively blocking the only exit. “Seems we never were.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Sloane.” At the mention of her name, he looked away, his fingers tapping nervously on the side of the cup. It was enough to confirm my suspicions. Niall knew exactly what he was doing when he destroyed me all those years ago. “Why’d you do it?”
“Do what?”
Before he could react, I was across the room, fisting the front of his shirt. His back hit the side wall with a dull thud at the same time the paper coffee cup bounced off my boot, spilling its contents on the floor.
“You donotwant to test me, motherfucker,” I growled, enunciating every syllable.
“Christ, Duncan. What’s gotten into you?”
More than a whisper of worry coated his words. It was exactly what I wanted. Fear was the perfect motivator, andright then, he needed to be afraid of what I’d do next. Hell, I was a little afraid of myself. But I wasn’t leaving without answers..
“Sloane didn’t die in the accident, Niall.” My hands curled tighter. “Ask me how I know.”
The veins on my neck pulsed wildly to the beat of my heart as I waited. Each moment that passed without a response tested the limits of my self-control. As an FBI agent, there were lines I swore I’d never cross, yet there I was, riding precariously close to the point of no return.
Could I live with the consequences?
The answer was a resounding fuck no. I had a future with Sloane and our children to think about. We’d suffered enough, thanks to my—so called—friend. There were other ways to exact revenge without losing myself in the process. When the time was right, I’d rip the hinges off Niall’s closet full of skeletons and bury him beneath them. Until then, if I needed to act unhinged to get what I needed, so be it. It would be an award winning performance.