He hadn’t intended to start dating her. He hadn’t intended to trick her with romance. His plan had simply been to meet her and then make it up as he went along. He hadn’t expected to be attracted to her. He hadn’t expected to feel that instant spark of connection. But he had. And when that happened, he should have changed direction. But he didn’t.
He’d asked her to dinner. He went with her to the theater. He took her to McGillin’s of all goddamn places. He snuggled with her on his couch in the firelight, kissing her, reveling in her moans as he caressed her soft curves. He texted and called her. He crashed her vacation, made her breakfast, hiked with her, flirted with her, and had mind-bending sex with her in that freezing cold lake. And through all that, he lied. Not actual lies, but it was just as she said. The things he hadn’t told her, the truths he kept from her—they were the same as lies.
His gut turned sour as he faced his own choices. He’d chosen to cut himself off from his friends and family. He’d fought the therapists every step of the way, so he hadn’t processed his emotions. He’d stayed laser focused on Phillipe’s death, so the pain never lessened, and his need to avenge Phillipe only grew. By the time he met Rose, he was like a shriveled plant in the desert. Her kindness and compassion were like water. Irresistible to a parched man.
That was the reason he invited her to dinner.
He should have changed course right then. Come up with an alternate plan. Instead, he’d chosen to lean into her soothing comfort, even while using her to avenge Phillipe. He’d wanted to have his cake and eat it too, and in his selfishness, he’d hurt her. Grievously. Possibly irreparably.
Phillipe would be ashamed of him.
No matter what the newspapers or Internal Affairs said, he was certain Phillipe had been a good man. He saw it in the way Phillipe treated Samantha like she was precious. He saw it in Phillipe’s endless patience with his kids. He saw it in how Phillipe always minimized his role in any accomplishment and made sure everyone else involved received praise. Phillipe never assumed someone was a criminal simply because they were a suspect. If someone had committed the crime, Phillipe would try to understand the circumstances that drove them to make thechoices they had. Phillipe always looked for the good first, no matter what.
Kemper’s accusation last night, that he was obsessed with his own loss and blind to everything else, was a seed in his mind, growing buds and shoots. The rebuke had the feel of an uncomfortable truth. Aleksei had quit his job. He barely visited his mother and sister. He couldn’t remember the last time he reached out to one of his friends. He spent most of his free time alone, hiking, working out, going over old notes from the Moresco op, and keeping tabs on the Philly mob. When Phillipe died, Samantha and the kids had been his lifeline. When she cut him off, he’d cut himself off from the rest of the world.
Rose had said that her sister held on so tightly that, sometimes, it made it hard to breathe. Was that how he’d made Samantha feel? Had he been using her to hold on too tightly to Philippe, pinning her to that point in time so she was trapped, feeling like she was slowly suffocating?
The anger toward Samantha that he thought he’d previously let go suddenly dissipated, unraveling one of the tightest knots in his constantly constricted chest. Samantha had done what she needed to do to survive. Just like he had been doing. But Samantha was stronger. She had the strength to let go and move forward, and he’d stayed entombed in the past.
Was he truly seeking revenge for Philippe? Or did he want to bring Moresco down to assuage his own guilt?
He pushed the questions away. They were moot. The chess pieces were already in motion. He’d have to finish the game.
Step one was rest. His body had been in fight-or-flight mode since he’d spoken to Kemper. He’d driven for hours. The hike and time in the lake with Rosemary felt like a week ago instead of yesterday. Once they were settled in Virus’s cabin, they’d be safe, and he could sleep. Virus wouldn’t be thrilled to see him. He wasn’t ever thrilled to see anybody, but this was the mostsecure place Aleksei could think of. His body had literally sagged with relief when he spotted how close Trout Run and Ricketts Glen were on the map.
It had been a few years since his last visit. He and Phillipe had come here to hunt. Virus had a woman in his life back then. She had encouraged Virus to invite them. She said it would be good for him to spend more time with friends. The woman had been good for him. He was happier than Aleksei had ever seen him. Virus hadn’t known Phillipe, but he’d been warm and welcoming. Unfortunately, the relationship ended soon after. Virus provided no details, and Aleksei had never been invited back again.
His friend was up here alone, fighting his own demons, but Aleksei hadn’t reached out once in the past two years—and now he was showing up unwanted and unannounced. What Kemper said about him was dead on. He was so obsessed with his own suffering, he hadn’t spent one goddamn minute thinking about anyone else. He was a fucking asshole.
He could only hope Virus was in a forgiving mood.
As if called to the flesh by his thoughts, about fifteen feet in front of them, Virus stepped out of the shadows, an M4 pointed directly at them.
Chapter Nineteen
Rosemary dug her feet into the floorboard, pushing herself backward, but there was nowhere to go. The seat was firm against her back, preventing her retreat. Her heart stuttered, then sprinted into overdrive. Sweat pooled at the edges of her wig. Instinct demanded she wipe the perspiration away, but she was afraid to lift her hands, afraid to move at all. She didn’t want to do anything to startle the man with the giant gun.
Strong fingers squeezed her thigh. “It’s all right, Rose.”
Aleksei put the truck in park and climbed out slowly, keeping his arms away from his body, bent up at the elbows, his fingers splayed wide. He left the door ajar. Was it because he wanted to leave open the option of a quick escape? Or because he hadn’t wanted to turn his back on the gun to close it? Neither option was comforting.
“Hey, Virus,” Aleksei’s voice floated in through the open door.
He sounded calm and pleasant, as if he was greeting a friend in the supermarket, not facing an irritated, broad-shouldered, sober-faced, former Marine holding what lookedlike an automatic weapon. Not that she knew anything about guns. The first time she’d seen one other than on a screen was when Aleksei had shot out the streetlights in the parking lot at Ricketts Glen.
“What are you thinking sneaking up on me in the middle of the night, Thompson?” an unfamiliar voice asked.
Aleksei’s rumbling laughter filled the air, and her shoulders dropped a fraction of an inch. She didn’t find anything funny about this scenario, but if Aleksei was relaxed, things must be okay. Maybe this was some weird type of Marine humor.
“You know damn well I’m not sneaking up on you. Your motion sensors and cameras picked me up the second I turned on the road, and I used my fingerprint to open the gate, so you knew exactly who was driving up. Stop acting like a dick, put the gun down, and open the gate. You’re giving my girl a panic attack.”
He’d called her his girl. She should be offended. She was a woman, not a girl, and after the shit he’d pulled, she certainly wasn’t his, but her wishy-washy, traitorous heart still softened. Was this endearment part of his act, him trying to lull her into believing his affection? He’d been an undercover agent, so he was, essentially, an expert con artist who just happened to work for the good guys. His con job had definitely done a number on her. She hated feeling like she couldn’t trust her own mind or heart.
“I’m not running a bed and breakfast here. You know my place is rustic.” Virus waved the butt of his rifle toward the passenger seat. “You sure she’s up for it?”
“Rose is as strong as either of us. And she’s a hell of a lot nicer.” Aleksei’s tone shifted from light to weary. “Now, please open the goddamn gate. We’re in trouble, and I’m so goddamn tired I can’t think straight. We need to rest.”
And just like that, no questions asked and no explanations demanded, Virus slung the gun over his shoulder and opened the gate. Rosemary released the breath she’d been holding in a long, slow exhale. She wasn’t sure how to feel about this grumpy, gun-toting, former Marine, but like Aleksei, she was too damn tired right now to think about it.