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It hadn’t occurred to her that Brodie might assume she was escaping the Kindred and their relationship by coming here. The last thing she wanted was regular guys and a normal life. Coming home to face her father was supposed to be cathartic, a healing experience that would give her an energy boost.
With Grant gone and Mischa in charge, Zara had no place left at CI. Feeling that she was of no use to the Kindred because she’d failed every mission, it felt dishonest to have the privilege of life at McCormack Manor at least until she could get some validation that her decisions were righteous.
“I feel like I failed you,” she murmured.
“We figured out where Game Time was because of you. You gave us the potential buyers. You went to that Grand meeting and charmed their asses. None of them suspected you of wearing a wire or fooling them. You went to the goddamn Game Time drop, even though you thought you were all by yourself. You were there because you wanted to stop it, even if it meant risking your life and revealing yourself. God, baby, it was hot to watch you so confident about doing the right thing.”
“Anyone could’ve done those things,” she said.
Grabbing her neck, he pulled her close. “For all we know, the reason Leatt didn’t kill us all where we stood was because you made him care about you. You went to Sutcliffe’s compound alone. We found the arsenal because of bugs you planted and cameras you carried. You are smart. You’re social and you’re beautiful. The Kindred need you. I need you. It’s as simple as that.”
She wanted to believe him and she opened her hands on his chest. “If I lose you… you were going to let Grant kill you just to save my life. I can’t… I’m not sure I would’ve been able to live if I lost you. The guilt of you sacrificing yourself for me…”
“I was never gonna let him hurt me,” he said, peering closer until she read the love behind his tough façade. “Swift took you to the floor to protect you. All I had to do was take a couple more steps, and I’d have taken the gun from Saint. Murder in his blood or not, he liked the sound of his voice preaching at me too much. He’d have wanted to deliver another monologue before pulling the trigger, and all I needed was half a second to switch the advantage from their camp to ours.”
That was reassuring and something she wished she’d known at the time. But the intensity of her fear remained. “I can’t lose you. I can’t.” But if she didn’t trust herself to be useful to the Kindred, she’d never be able to hold onto him.
“Moving back here pretty much guarantees that you’ll lose me, baby.” She didn’t follow. It hadn’t been her intention to move into her father’s house. Brodie might be able to pinpoint her location, but his tech couldn’t read her mind. “If you come back here, I’ll end up in jail ‘cause there will be a wave of single men in their twenties, thirties, and forties dropping down dead with a single, high-caliber gunshot wound to the head.”
She smiled, though she believed his words to be true. “Any male of dating age?”
He nodded once. “Yep. I’ll eliminate them all before they become a threat to what we have.”
Being close to him eased some of her burden. “No man measures up to you,” she said, sinking into his arms when he spread his fingers on her spine to pin her body to his.
A creak made her turn, and she saw her father on the porch, between the door and screen, peering down the path as if trying to make out who they were. “Get in the car,” Brodie said, seeing what she did. He pushed her lower back to direct her toward the road as he turned toward the house.
But her love’s frown and willingness to address her father made her grab for his wrist to get his attention again. “Are you armed?” she asked.
The glare on his face didn’t budge. “Do you want me to kill him?”
No, she didn’t, but it meant so much to her that this man would do anything to make her happy. “No. What about the money?”
“Get in the car,” he said, bobbing his head in the direction of the vehicle then kissing her hairline. “Trust me.”
And although he didn’t need an answer, she gave him one. “More than I trust myself,” she said.
Before he started toward the house, he smacked her ass, probably in lieu of a kiss, then he strode up the path toward her father who was still loitering. It had been a long time since she’d seen him and he looked older, more weathered, his stance was more hunched and his face more creased. But she recognized him, even if his eyesight wasn’t good enough for him to be certain of her identity.
He can’t have felt too threatened because he hadn’t run off to get his gun. Even if he had, he’d never have gotten a shot off. Brodie would disarm him if the conflict got physical, but her father would notice her love’s superior skills. In the event that he did, Brodie would have an explanation, though her father wouldn’t hear it because he’d be too busy getting himself riled.
Anything could happen in that house, as neither man was great at holding their temper if the right buttons were pushed. Brodie kept on going up the path and didn’t look back at her. Tearing her eyes from the men, she wheeled her suitcase to the car and put it in the trunk before taking a seat in the front passenger side.
She didn’t know how long Brodie would be or what excuse he would give to her father for being there. But when the men went into the house, her jaw fell. She’d expected an exchange on the porch, not inside in the bosom of the home. Brodie hated being social, and her father wasn’t much better at it.
Slumping into the seat, she slid her shoes off her feet and drew them up under her. Whatever the men were talking about, she couldn’t interrupt, she’d just have to wait until Brodie returned and then query the details. Staring out of the windshield, she thought about what Brodie had said, and it wasn’t so much his point about her research as it was his reminder of her being proactive. When Brodie hadn’t given her what she wanted, she stood tall and found it out on her own.
An idea hit her, so she bent to grab her purse from the floor. Taking her cellphone out of it, she began to make plans.
EIGHT
His cousins weren’t waiting for him with a helicopter, but there was a jet waiting for them at the airport. Brodie ignored anyone who tried to talk to him, so they eventually gave up. The employees interpreted their choice of transportation as a sign of frivolous wealth and tried to pander as though they were idle and spoiled. They didn’t want champagne or canapés. They wanted to get from A to B, that was it.
On business trips with Grant, she’d had the privilege of traveling in a private jet. But the sheen of novelty didn’t lessen, and enjoying the seclusion of a private plane with Brodie led to some unscheduled activities. Try as she might to press for details, Brodie hadn’t been forthcoming about what happened while he was in her father’s house, which he had been for about fifteen minutes.
After giving up on that, she tried to address the situation with Kahlil and what he knew about Future’s Hope. Brodie didn’t want to talk about that either. So instead, they used sex to pass the time and she was happy to cross sex in a plane off her bucket list.
Because he wasn’t interested in talking about Kahlil, he hadn’t been interested in discussing her plans either. But he did assure her that they would talk when they landed and regrouped at the manor. Just hearing that they were going to base instead of to Rigor’s place soothed her nerves.
