Secret Love Page 7

  “Dani…” He looks at his hand, horrified at himself. “Oh, god. Dani. I’m sorry, I…”

  I stumble away from him, coughing to catch my breath through blurred vision. I rest one hand on the dresser to hold myself up while I feel my neck for bruises.

  “Dani, are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” I say, my voice scrapping through my throat.

  “Let me see.”

  I flinch again, suddenly feeling him hovering beside me. My back touches the dresser as I look up at him through my new black bangs.

  “Dani…” His hand touches my wrist near my neck. “Let me see…”

  My gut twinges through a bit of nostalgia. He’s looking at me now just like the old Fox used to during the rare times we were alone together. The horror has left his eyes, replaced with kind, somewhat gentle, affection. And attraction. Maybe even lust.

  I lower my hand to reveal my throat. Fox moves forward to take a closer look.

  “Can you breathe okay?” he asks, his fingers gently probing.

  “Yeah, I’m okay,” I answer.

  “Does it hurt to talk?”

  “Not anymore.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “It doesn’t hurt,” I say, perhaps a little too forcefully, but if he keeps touching me like this, he’ll surely feel how much my heart is racing.

  Fox lowers his hands, sensing my push. “How long have I been asleep?” he asks.

  “Two hours, maybe,” I say. “What were you dreaming about?”

  He steps away. “Nothing.”

  “The war? Or after?”

  He walks out of sight into the bathroom. The faucet turns on and he leans over it to splash water on his face. My gut twinges with curiosity.

  Christ, what happened to him out there?

  When he stands up, he notices me hovering over him like a gnat. He grabs a hand towel off the wall and pats his face dry.

  “After,” he simply says.

  I nod, silently wondering if I even want to know more than that. I have so many questions, obviously, but I have to consider the possibility that those questions should never be answered.

  “How did I do?” I ask, gesturing to my new hair.

  “It’s fine,” he asks, dropping the towel.

  “Just fine?”

  “You know what I mean, Dani. You look good.”

  He bolts straight for the mini-fridge again and grabs the last tiny bottle stashed inside without bothering to look at what it is.

  “Okay…” I say. “What now?”

  “Now…” He pours the entire bottle down his throat as if he’s putting out a fire. “Now, we get out of town.”

  “Right now?”

  “Yes,” he answers, tossing the empty bottle into the trash.

  “It’s three in the morning.” I point to the clock on the bed.

  He reaches for his jacket hanging on the back of the door. “You can sleep in the car.”

  “Fox, please,” I beg. “Can’t we just stay here for a few hours? I’ve had a pretty rough night… and you’ve been drinking. Are you even good to drive?”

  His fingers twitch on his jacket and he casts a sideways glance at me. He’s probably more than okay to drive, honestly, but with those circles under his eyes, I’d rather him get a little more rest.

  “Fine,” he finally says. “But only a few hours, okay?”

  I nod as I run my fingers through my hair. It still feels so foreign and smooth, like it’s not even mine. I catch him staring. He quickly turns away.

  “Where are we going in the morning?” I ask.

  He hesitates. “When I escaped Snake Eyes, I took something with me.”

  I sit down on the bed. “You escaped?”

  “I worked on Mercer’s squad for about a year and a half before I found a way out. It wasn’t easy and I almost got killed in the process…”

  “What happened?” I ask.

  “I was sent on a solo mission to take out a Russian mobster,” he begins. I lean back against the headboard and pull the blanket out from under me to drape across my feet. He watches but pretends not to. “In and out, should have been easy for me — and it would have been, but I had other plans. Before I left, I accessed Snake Eyes’ network and made two copies of their master file.”

  “Master file?”

  “It’s a list of all assignments given out to members and how much money exchanged hands. We’re talking decades of names, unsolved cases, and executions big and small. Billions of dollars in trade.”

  “And you have that?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Can I read it?” I ask, curiosity piquing.

  “No one can,” he says, his lips twitching with amusement at my excited eyes. “Not without the right decryption.” I sit back in disappointment. “Anyway, I made contact with the Russians, laid down arms, and I gave one copy of the file to him in exchange for safe passage back to the states.”

  “That sounds really freakin’ dangerous,” I say. “You’re lucky he didn’t shoot you.”

  “He did, actually.” I tilt my head in shock and he smiles again. “We had to make my disappearance look convincing so that later when Mercer tracked my whereabouts, he’d find my blood and figure I was taken out and disposed of. It was just a graze, nothing too horrible.” He runs a pointed finger along his bicep. “The Russians were supposed to use that file to make Snake Eyes disappear.”

  “Why would they do that?”

  “The family had some unfinished business with the organization,” he says, keeping it vague. “After a few hiccups, he sent me packing with a bandaged arm and a bit of money.”

  “Hiccups?”

  “It’s a long story,” he says. “But it ends with me making it back here.”

  “How long have you been home?”

  “Six months.”

  Six months.

  He’s been back here for half a year now and he never said a word.

  “Dani, I couldn’t go back to LA,” he says, reading my eyes.

  “Why not?”

  “Because if Mercer ever realized I was still alive, he’d go after my family first.” He looks at my cheek. “Looks like I was right about that.”

  “How did he find out?”

  “I’m not sure…” He runs his fingers through his beard and scratches an itch. “I’m guessing the Russian’s plan didn’t go so well.”

  “So, he finds out you’re still alive and he comes after me,” I say. “Why?”

  He takes a breath. “He knew how I’d react.” I say nothing, waiting for him to explain. “Mercer was… well, friend might be too strong a word, but I guess it qualifies.”

  “You were friends with the asshole who shot Lamb and cut up my face?”

  “You make some interesting acquaintances when you work in an underground assassination squad,” he jokes.

  I don’t laugh. “So, he knows that you and I… have history?”

  “Yeah,” he says, shifting on his toes. “Anyway, I know someone who can probably decrypt my copy of the file.”

  “Probably?”

  “He’s the best chance we have. Hopefully, I can use it as a bargaining chip with whoever can solve this Snake Eyes problem so I can take you back home.”

  Home. Back to movie sets and the paparazzi.

  “Get some sleep,” he says. “We have a long drive ahead of us.”

  I glance around. “There’s only one bed…”

  “I’ll take the floor.”

  “You don’t have to,” I offer. “There’s plenty of room.”

  “I’d prefer it.” His voice is firm, almost cold, but I’d rather not draw attention to it.

  I nod and lower myself down to the pillows, kicking the blanket off my burning legs. My heart won’t stop racing. That black ink on those rock-hard abs. The way the cobra tail swished across them, curling left and right before stopping just above his navel. I can’t get it out of my head. My fingers have been vibrating since the moment I touched him. It’s taki
ng everything in me not to reach between my thighs right now and—

  “Dani.”

  I jerk out of my trance. “What?”

  “Do you mind?” He points to the other side of the bed at the unused pillow.

  “Oh — yeah.” I grab it and hold it out to him. He takes it and drops it to the floor at the foot of the bed. “Need a blanket?”

  “No,” he says, disappearing below.

  “Goodnight, then…”

  “Goodnight.”

  I reach over and flick the lamp off, casting the room into total darkness. As I lay my head on the pillow, my restless mind churns. The last time Fox and I were alone like this…

  I squeeze my eyes hard to try and stop the memories from flooding in, but the dam is already broken.

  I never told a soul about that night. I thought Fox had taken it to his grave, so that’s what I was going to do, too.

  “Hey, Fox.”

  “Yeah?” he answers.

  “Why did you tell him about me?” I ask. “Mercer, I mean.”

  “I didn’t.”

  “Then, how…”

  I stop as I hear Fox sit up on the floor, his dark outline hovering at the edge of the bed.

  “I didn’t tell him,” he says. “I told someone else.”

  “Another agent?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Who?”

  He goes quiet for a moment, the weight of the world heavy on his shoulders. “His name was Dante,” he says. “We both worked for Mercer. Got pretty close.”

  “So, why did you tell him?”

  “What else do guys talk about over a few beers?” He shrugs. “Some details slipped out one night, but I didn’t think he’d remember.”

  “Another friend?”

  “We might have been if things were different.” He leans back against his hands. “He was a good agent. Loyal to Snake Eyes. Him and his family.”

  “His family?”

  “His brother and sister are agents, too.”

  “Wow,” I say. “A whole family of killers? That’s… scary.”

  “That’s another reason why I came back,” he says slowly. “Mercer is bad, but…” He clears his throat. “He’s not the only one I’m worried about out here.”

  I exhale as fear clenches my chest. I get the feeling Fox has only scratched the surface of how much danger we’re really in. Mercer. Dante. All ruthless killers who won’t think twice when the time comes.

  And Fox was one of them. Just one of the guys drinking beers and swapping stories about girls after a long day of killing people.

  Was there a part of him that enjoyed it?

  “Try and get some rest,” he says as he lays down in the dark.

  I should do that. I know I should. But…

  “Fox?” I ask.

  “Hm?”

  I bite my tongue. Maybe I don’t need to know.

  “Never mind,” I say.

  I lay down and close my eyes.

  Maybe I should never know.

  Chapter 15

  Dani

  I grab a pair of shoes, a package of socks, a few shirts, and some jeans off the shelves, and walk straight to the checkout counter with the cash Fox gave me to find something to wear. It’s a low-end department store, somewhere I’d usually never shop, but Fox insists that’s the point.

  I’m not Roxie Roberts right now. I’m just Dani. I’m not a movie star. I’m a normal person with thick sunglasses and short black hair, buying some clothes because I have nothing else to wear other than a man’s shirt and boxer shorts. Just a normal girl with a target on her back.

  Nothing to see here, folks.

  “Do I know you from somewhere?”

  I look at the cashier through tinted lenses. “I get that a lot,” I mutter, dropping my voice deeper than usual. She stares at me for an extra-long second before finally shrugging and requesting seventy dollars from me. My heart resets to its normal rhythm and I get out as fast as I went in.

  Fox waits outside for me, leaning against a new car by the curb. I’m not quite sure where he got it, but I’m not about to question it. His eyes move back and forth in his skull on constant watch. Each passing person could be a danger. Each one another possibility for me to get recognized, however unlikely that is, especially with a fresh bandage covering half of my face.

  “So, where is this secret master file decrypter guy?” I ask him.

  He seems annoyed with me. He wanted me to wait in the car, but I wasn’t about to let him go in and buy me clothes.

  “Denver,” he answers.

  “Denver? Why aren’t we flying?”

  He pops open the passenger side door. “Because that requires going through security, flashing IDs…”

  “So?”

  “So…” He jerks his head, gesturing me into the car. I step off the curb and lower myself down into it while he moves to the driver’s side. “Snake Eyes has access to those systems. Chances are we’ve already been flagged by them and the LAPD.”

  “Why them, too?” He glances at me out of the corner of his eyes, giving me a quick second to figure it out for myself. “Oh, right. My dad.”

  He turns the ignition. “We need to stay off-the-grid or we won’t make it out of California.”

  “It’s a good thing I look nothing like myself then…”

  I pull the visor down and flip open the mirror to look at my reflection. Black hair. No make-up. Giant gash on my cheek. I slide my sunglasses up onto my head to check my eyes. Still blue. That’s something, I guess.

  “Put those back on until we get out of the city,” Fox says as we start rolling down the busy street.

  I do as he says and shield my eyes again before tossing the bag of new clothes into the backseat and sliding back there with them.

  “Dani, what are you doing?”

  “I’m changing,” I say, flicking the buttons free on his borrowed shirt. “Just keep your eyes on the road.”

  “We have windows, you know.”

  “I’ll be quick.” I grab a black t-shirt out of the bag and lay it open on my lap. “It’s not like you’ve never seen it before anyway.”

  I regret it the instant it leaves my mouth. Up until now, we’ve been actively avoiding the nitty-gritty details of that subject. Sleeping in the same room together was awkward enough, even with him on the floor.

  I glance at the rearview mirror in time to see his dark eyes dart away.

  I slide the jeans on quickly and pull them up over my borrowed boxers. Maybe we’ll both just silently agree to pretend that never happened.

  I take the shoes and a pair of socks from the bag and climb back over into the front seat. “Time to hit the road?” I ask, clearing my throat.

  “We need to make a quick stop first,” he says.

  “For what?”

  “Supplies.”

  “Like what? Snacks?”

  “Guns.”

  I blink. “Oh.”

  “It won’t take long.”

  “Where are we supposed to get guns?”

  He flexes his jaw. “I know a girl.”

  “A girl?” I ask. He nods. “You know a girl with guns?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What’s her name?”

  “Caleb.”

  I raise a brow. “You know a girl with guns and a boy’s name? How cliché.”

  He smirks and licks his lips. “Tell me all about it, Dani.”

  “Short for Danielle.” I slip on my socks and shoes. “At least, my mother wasn’t a hippie.”

  “My mother is not a hippie.”

  “She named you Fox.”

  “It’s a cool name,” he defends. “Don’t get me started on Danielle Roxanne Roberts. I mean, what the hell is that?”

  I pause, unable to contain my laugh. Nostalgia silences me even more. It’s strange how quickly old habits take over again. We haven’t spoken in five years and we’re already tossing insults back and forth like nothing has changed.

  I reach for my le
ft cheek to scratch an itch without thinking and my nail scrapes against the stitches holding my skin together. “Ouch—”

  Fox looks over at me. “How’s that feeling?”

  I check the mirror and peel back the bandage to be sure I didn’t do any more damage to it. “It’s all right.” I sigh with annoyance. “Any idea why he chose the face of all places?”

  “Because I have the same scar.”

  “You do?”

  He slides a finger down his left cheek. “Mercer knew I’d make the connection.”

  “When did you get it?”

  “It happened during my first mission in Snake Eyes,” he answers. “I screwed up and got made. The target had a thing for knives and managed to sneak in behind me, but…” His voice falls. “I was faster.”

  I glance at his cheek. “Not fast enough.”

  “Mercer called it my trophy,” he continues. “Just let it bleed, he said. It’ll look cool.”

  “Why do you cover it up?”

  He keeps his eyes on the road. “Makes it easier to forget about, I guess.”

  We turn off the street and enter a small parking lot behind an old, brick building. A pink neon sign flashes above the entrance with several letters missing. I squint at it, trying to decipher the store’s name.

  “Fawn’s Pawn?” I read. “Who’s Fawn?”

  “It’s her last name.”

  I sit back. “Your gun girl is a woman named Caleb Fawn?”

  Fox pulls his seatbelt free. “Wait here.”

  “No way! I want to meet your gun girl.”

  “No.” He steps outside. “I’ll just be a minute.”

  “Fox—”

  “Dani.” He bends down and stares at me through the open window. “Stay here.”

  I sigh and fall back into my seat. “Fine.” I reach for my sunglasses.

  “Keep them on,” he warns, pointing a stiff finger at me.

  I hold up my hands in surrender and he walks off toward the pawn shop.

  There we go again. Bantering like before.

  This is going to be one strange road trip.

  Chapter 16

  Fox

  The entry bell chimes as I walk into Fawn’s Pawn again, but I can barely hear it over a man shouting somewhere in the back corner. I hold the door open for a woman as she quickly slips past me, obviously eager to not get involved.