The Broken One (Falcon Falls Security, #2)

by Brittney Sahin

A.J. abruptly snatched hold of Jesse’s shirt with one hand and pulled his other arm back, ready to strike. “You shouldn’t have kept this from me. You put my family in danger. My sister. Maybe your father is—” “Right about me?” Jesse lifted his gaze. “I’m trouble.” A.J.’s face muscles went lax, but he didn’t lower his arm. His hand remained clenched in a fist in preparation as he stared into Jesse’s eyes. “Why do you think I’ve done my best to stay away from your sister all these years?” Jesse rasped, his voice shaking. “I was broken before I joined the CIA, and then I became dangerous because of the Agency.” He closed his eyes and swallowed. “But I need to find this guy and finish the job before he has a chance to get to Ella. I promise you, I won’t let anything happen to her. And there’s still the possibility he’s yet to ID me.” That felt like a lie. In Jesse’s gut, he knew this son of a bitch had already secured his name or would soon. But he’d be damned if he’d let Ella die because of his sins.

A.J. had released him and was now tearing his hands through his hair. “You won’t be handling a damn thing. She’s my sister. I’ll talk to POTUS. My people will take care of the situation. You’ve done enough.” He started to walk away, but Jesse hurried to catch up with him, matching his angry strides. “I have to do this. This is my mess. My problem. Not yours and—” “You made it my problem when you fell for my damn sister!” A.J. whirled around and fisted Jesse’s shirt with both hands this time. “I will kill you with my bare hands if something happens to Ella. Do you understand me? You might be like blood to me. But I will fuckin’ kill you.” “You won’t have to kill me,” Jesse returned in a low voice. “I’ll do it my—” “What in God’s name is going on out here?” Jesse spotted his sister hurrying their way and Ella not far behind her. A.J. focused back on Jesse. “We need to talk to Chris and Griffin. Fill them in,” was all he said before shoving at Jesse’s chest when he deserved a hell of a lot more than that. “What have you told Ella?” Jesse shook his head. “I only told her she can’t go to Paris.” “Don’t say anything,” he hissed. “Not yet.”

A.J. offered. “We, um, have a direct line of communication with the head of the CIA. We can trust him.” This was news to Jesse. But he wasn’t all that surprised, considering A.J.’s team had been working covert jobs for the President for years. And for that very reason, Jesse was sure their intel regarding those operations came from so high up the chain it could have been God himself for all he knew. Well, at the very least, a level or two above Thatcher. “I can’t guarantee the President will assign us to be the boots on the ground for this problem,” Chris commented. “We’re a few men down on my team, Echo. Babies and all. Plus, we’re still training new recruits for Charlie Team.” He looked at his watch. “And as of one hour ago, Bravo Team boarded a flight to . . .” He paused and eyed Jesse and Griffin since they weren’t in the “need to know” on whatever clandestine op Bravo was about to take part in. “Somewhere overseas.” “Falcon can handle Zoran,” A.J. quickly said. “But as for Ella—” “Ella’s not staying here,” Jesse snapped, worried that A.J. was going to pull rank as Ella’s brother and insist on personally providing her protection. “If she’s a mark, she paints as much of a bullseye on the town as does Jesse,” Griffin pointed out. “We need to talk to Carter, Gray, and the others. Get them working leads on this fucker as of yesterday. They should come here.” “Make the call.” Jesse didn’t want to wait for A.J.’s opinion on the matter. They were losing time. And for all they...

A.J. hadn’t wanted him to say anything yet, but the truth had to come out. Rip the Band-Aid off. Make it quick. “You’re in danger because of me,” he said as fast as possible. “Well, most likely. Because of my old job.” He swallowed. “Someone might target you to hurt me.”

“I don’t understand. You’ve been out of the Army for a while.” She shook her head and took a small step closer, nearly within arm’s reach. “Why would someone use me to hurt you?” “No, not because of the Army.” He did his best to keep his gaze steady with hers. “I, um, worked for the CIA after the Army. Taking assignments here and there over the years, but I’m out now.” “CIA?” she whispered. Could he leave out the hitman part? For now, maybe. She looked toward the stables. “Are you for real?” “I was forbidden to tell anyone. I’m sorry.” The excuse was legit, but it felt lame coming from his mouth. “Okay, so a case you once worked for the CIA now has me in danger?” She spoke as if she were talking through her thoughts to truly comprehend them. “The target of one of my old cases will most likely be coming for me. His wife died, but he managed to survive. And the CIA believes he’ll procure my identity and target you as payback.”

“I can’t take the chance he won’t learn my name and come for you. I’ll do my best to find him first. Falcon will help. We’ll also have access to your brother’s connections. We won’t let anything happen to you.” His heart squeezed a bit tighter, but he ignored the gripping feeling in his chest and allowed his hand to fall like dead weight to his side. “What does this mean for me? You’re not suggesting I put my life on hold because some madman out there may or may not come for us, are you?” she asked in a soft, almost tepid voice, which wasn’t the norm for her. “You can’t ask me to give up Paris because of your past. I—I won’t. Not without proof that this person knows your name. Knows my name.” She pressed the heel of her palm to her forehead. “Ella.” He had no clue what he’d say next, but he was afraid she was on the verge of taking off like she’d done on the horse earlier.

She lowered her hand and shook her head. “I’m going to Paris. My brother can assign someone from his security firm to protect me. But I’m not turning my back on this opportunity because someone maybe knows your name and will maybe come for me.” And there was that stubborn sass. She held both hands up. “Plus, I shouldn’t be here if there is a maybe chance I’m a danger to everyone around me. My niece and nephew. My students. Parents. All the more reason for me to go to Paris.” “I don’t think you understand. Me not helping you isn’t up for discussion.” Regardless of what A.J. had said.

“You can’t stay here, you’re right. But Paris is out of the question.” Ella’s fluid movements toward him caught him by surprise, but he resisted snatching her wrists when she lifted both fists and set them to his chest as if prepared to strike, but as with her brother, the punches didn’t come. She just set them there, her stubborn jawline strained as she clearly struggled to deal with her emotions. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “Sorry doesn’t come close to cutting it.” She sniffled and looked up at him, her hands still clenched against his chest while his arms hung awkwardly at his sides. He did his best not to hold her, to try and console her, because he knew that’d be the last thing she’d want. “You were a hitman for the CIA. And if anyone I care about dies because of what you did, I’ll kill you myself.” “I know,” he said, and damn did the woman sound just like A.J.

“I’ll marry someone. Fake marry, I mean. Within the next week,” he added, talking through the idea. “Someone with operational experience who’s willing to be bait to lure this guy out on our own timetable.” For a moment, he contemplated asking Sydney from his firm, but she had a teenage son, and he wouldn’t want to jeopardize the boy’s life, so no, Sydney was off-limits. “You can’t marry some random woman. No one will believe it.” Ella’s eyes thinned as her focus lowered to the ground, and heaven help him, he knew what this sassy and stubborn woman was about to say, and— “No, absolutely not,” he rejected her before she had a chance to utter the insanity he knew was coming.

“It’s an insane solution.” She shook her head. “Everyone in town will buy into it. You learned I was going to Paris, and that was why you proposed, and we decided to have a quick wedding.” She twirled her hand in the air. “Your people can fix the government records to make the marriage look real, right? So, if he does some digging, he’ll see the marriage license.”

“I’m not marrying you to make you bait.” He leaned closer so that their mouths practically touched, and repeating her earlier pronouncement, he added, “End of fucking story.”

“I’m getting married on New Year’s Eve,” she announced, a little breathless. “It was going to be a surprise wedding. Well, it’ll still be a surprise to pretty much everyone.” Dear lord, Jesse was going to kill her for this, but . . . Ugh, that might not have been the best choice of words given his previous line of work. “I thought it was important you know I’m getting married, and well, my husband would want to come with me to Paris if I were to accept,” she said, her voice firm as she fought the tremble in her limbs. A fleeting look of disappointment crossed Henry’s handsome face, but he quickly recovered with a charming smile. “Congratulations.”

“I certainly wasn’t expecting a surprise small-town wedding or this dress. But if you’re saying yes to Paris, then I implore you to wear this gown. The springtime wedding edition for our magazine is already put together, but we can upload some images to our website. Other social media outlets. This has to be seen.” “What?” How many more times would she be surprised tonight? It’d been the textbook definition of a long day . . . and now at nine o’clock at night, she was meeting with Henry and telling him she was getting married. “This dress was not only meant to be worn, it was meant to be seen by millions of Rochella’s readers.” Henry flashed her a quick smile. “So, is it an official yes that you’ll be one of my Southern gems?” He moved closer to her, and she inhaled his expensive cologne. Was this how “rich” smelled? And why did she prefer Jesse’s more manly, rugged scent to expensive? Jesse. The bane of my existence. And my future fake husband, whether ya like it or not. “It’s a yes,” Ella whispered, her voice not in commission for a hot second. “But please don’t tell anyone about the wedding. We really do want to wait until New Year’s Eve for everyone to find out.” And prevent a possible psychopath from showing up sooner than we’re prepared. “Who the hell are you?” Jesse’s voice could have melted metal.

“This is Henry Rochella. I just told him about our surprise wedding,” Ella finally said, clearing the horrible thoughts from her head. “I also mentioned you’d be coming to Paris with me,” Ella quickly added, hoping Jesse would keep his trap shut and not embarrass her in front of Henry. She wouldn’t put it past him to do something like take her over his knee for disobeying him in moving forward with the marriage idea after he’d rejected it. “You said yes,” Jesse said slowly, fire in his eyes that she’d gone against his orders. Not only had she committed to Paris, but she’d announced their fake wedding—the fake wedding plan he refused to go along with an hour ago. “I did.” Ella sidestepped Henry, who’d lowered his hand, sensing Jesse had no intention of a formal hello. Or any kind of hello, for that matter.

She took an uneasy step back, worried she’d do something crazy. Punch him or beg him for their first kiss. “I’m going to Paris, so if you want to keep me safe there, you are fake marrying me, and we’re dealing with this psychopath on my schedule,” she said, finding her voice again. “I want to be as far away from my family and friends as possible to keep them out of this too. And with any luck, we’ll draw the asshole out within a few weeks, and then we’ll get fake divorced.” She started to turn, but he grabbed hold of her arm, halting her. His chest heaved with harsh breaths as he examined her like he might toss her over his shoulder and carry out his earlier promise to tie her up in a room to keep her safe. Ella sighed. “I’m going to tell my mom. And she’s going to have a hard time believing this.” She thought back to her conversation with her mom in the stables not too long ago. “But I don’t want her to know the real reason we need to marry. She’ll worry, and I’d rather her just . . .” “No, Ella Mae. I don’t know if I need to give you an answer in every language I know, but this isn’t happening.”

“I already told you I won’t use you as bait.” Ella faked a laugh. “At this point, if he knows your name, then he most likely knows mine. If he truly wants revenge, I’m not actually bait. I’m the target.” She lifted her head but couldn’t find it in her to look him in the eyes. “Is that why you stayed away from me? Why you felt you could only give me the weekend in New York?” she asked softly. “You’re a danger to me?” He was quiet for a moment before answering, “Mostly. But . . .” That unfinished line of thought was going to screw with her, and she knew he’d leave his words hanging in the air just out of reach. Like always. “And I didn’t think you could ever forgive me once you learned the truth. I have a lot of blood on my hands. And I’m still . . . broken.”

“Was that what you were going to wear for Brian?” His voice was hoarse, like his words were stuck in the muck, and he had to pull and pull to get them out. “No, I made this long before I met him,” she said. “I bought something off the rack to wear for him.” She stood alongside Jesse and stared at the dress, and a weird quiet filled the room. She forced herself to look away from the dress, worried she might cry, and his hand slipped to her hip, and he guided her in his direction. “Ella, I—”

“After dinner, Jesse proposed. And since I said yes to Rochella, and I’m leaving for Paris after New Year’s, and with everyone already going to be here for New Year’s Eve, we thought, why not? Let’s just do it. Beckett can officiate.” Her mom’s gaze journeyed over Jesse as if she couldn’t decide whether to cry or hug him. “Are you telling me you finally got your head together because of Paris?” “I . . .” Jesse looked at Ella, and she held her breath because it was now or never. He could either say yes, making it official that he agreed to her plan of becoming his fake wife in order to lure out the psycho, or he could say no. In which case, her mom would badger him with questions and want to know what the hell was going on. And Ella knew that was the last thing Jesse wanted. “I, um.” He pinched the bridge of his nose for a quick moment before turning to Ella’s mom. “I have to ask your husband for Ella’s hand first. If he says yes, then yes, consider my head firmly removed from my ass, ma’am.” Jesse must have noticed she was two seconds from collapsing because he secured a hand around Ella’s arm and pulled her tight against him. Husband and wife. Fake husband and wife. But only because someone wants me dead.

As soon as her mom bustled from the studio muttering decorating plans, Jesse faced her. He let go of a deep sigh as he stroked his jaw, a contemplative expression crossing his face. “A.J. is gonna hit me when we tell him the plan. And my team at Falcon may not approve.” “Good thing it’s my life and not theirs.” Ella shrugged, trying to pull off nonchalant when she was anything but. “We’ll need extra security at the party in case word gets out ahead of time. I don’t think we have anything to worry about, but I’m not taking chances.” Jesse blinked a few times as though trying to figure out how he’d gotten strong-armed into this crazy plan. Ella had to admit that if her mom hadn’t burst in all aflutter with hearts and tears in her eyes, Jesse might not have given in. “There is one thing we’ll need to take care of before our, um, fake wedding.”

“The kiss after we say our I do won’t be fake. And I’ll be damned if the one thing Brian’s had that I haven’t happens for the first time in front of an audience.” Her. Heart. Stopped. Ella placed a hand to her chest when her heart jump-started and began to beat a mile a minute. Not because of what he said, but how he’d said it.

“What?” she mouthed, a bit lightheaded. “Brian. He’s had your mouth,” Jesse said darkly, slowly drawing his gaze back to her eyes. “I don’t like that.” “But Brian—” Jesse slowly shook his head in warning. “I don’t want to hear his name,” he cut her off, his eyes darkening to match the timbre of his voice. “He’s lucky he never made it to my hit list because if he’d ever hurt you, he’d be long dead.” He closed the space between them. “Just remember that about me,” he rasped. “Remember what kind of man you’re fake marrying. Remind yourself of who I am.” He brought his face closer to hers, and her heartbeat was out of control. “We’re playing pretend, Ella Mae, but there’s nothing fake about who I am. And who I will always be. A danger to you.”

“Now, excuse me while I go get punched by three of your brothers after I ask your father for your hand in marriage.”

“Let me get this straight,” Rory said while plopping down on Jesse’s living room couch next to Ella. “You and my brother, the man you’ve dreamed of marrying for years but now hate with a passion, are getting fake married. Sure, why not? What could possibly go wrong?” “Sounds like the plot to a romance novel,” Savanna chimed in, sitting opposite Ella and Rory in the leather armchair by the fireplace.

“The rest of Griffin’s team will be here later today. Between them, A.J. and his teammates, and well, the CIA . . . I think we have strength in numbers to keep you safe. They’ll find the threat. It’s what they do,” Savanna said,

Ella was surprised Jesse wasn’t sporting a black eye by now. While A.J. had vehemently rejected the fake marriage idea, same as Jesse had originally, in the end, he’d given up. Ella wasn’t dubbed the most stubborn in her family for nothing. But when A.J. briefed his brothers about the plan, it’d been Ella’s older brother Beckett who’d snapped and lunged at the groom. Fortunately, the other guys jumped in and held him back. And that was all after Jesse asked her father for her hand in marriage. From what Ella heard, her dad straight-up broke down in tears and said yes. When she learned he’d been praying for her and Jesse to walk down the aisle someday, Ella had nearly thrown up from guilt. But it was best her parents were kept in the dark about certain details.

Savanna’s gaze immediately fall to her lap. “What?” Ella whispered. Savanna slowly worked her attention to Ella. “Griffin has concerns that Rochella’s offer might be a bit too perfectly timed. Like he’s helping someone draw you out and away from here.” Ella shook her head. “There’s no way a fashion mogul is taking orders from a criminal. Griffin’s paranoid.” “Regardless, you know they’ll take a look into the offer. And Henry Rochella’s family and company,” Savanna said. “At least Falcon will be with you in Paris.”

“You going to be okay? Like okay-okay, I mean?” Savanna tipped her head, her gaze switching from Ella to the window, Jesse and Griffin no longer in sight. “Physically, I know the guys won’t let anything happen to you. But emotionally, Jesse has already put you through the wringer.” Now it’ll be a wedding wringer.

Savanna rose and stood beside Rory, both watching her with worried expressions. “I have to tell you . . . something,” Ella blurted out as her face grew hot. “I haven’t had sex since Jesse,” she revealed the only other secret she’d kept hidden from her best friends and stood. “Not even with Brian.” “Wait, what? You’re telling us you never did the hanky panky,” Rory began, talking with her hands, “with the man you were engaged to? I mean, y’all went to a tropical island together. I—I don’t understand.” Ella covered her face with her palm and released an uneasy breath. “He wanted to. Trust me, he did. And no matter how much I tried to get over Jesse by dating Brian and even accepting his proposal, I—I just couldn’t give myself to Brian like that. Not after Jesse. I had hoped, after the wedding, I’d finally accept it was truly over with Jesse.” Tears welled in her eyes at the admission. It sounded absolutely insane when she said it out loud. And it’d been a major problem between them. “Probably why Brian pressed for a quick engagement. And when I still wouldn’t sleep with him even after I’d said yes to his proposal, he lost his mind.”

Rory circled the coffee table and reached for Ella’s hand. “But it’s also kind of a big deal that you couldn’t bring yourself to be with another man after Jesse,” she added in a soft tone as if worried someone would come inside the house and overhear them. “Maybe you should tell Jesse? I know we’re not supposed to feel sorry for him because, well, hitman. But think about it . . . if Jesse wasn’t in love with you, there wouldn’t be a crazy criminal possibly coming after you.” Savanna grimaced when Rory looked back at her, and although Ella couldn’t see, she had a good idea what kind of look was on Rory’s face. “That didn’t come out the way I meant.” “That doesn’t mean Jesse loves me,” Ella quickly said. “He just knows what the town thinks about us and what they’d say if someone came digging around for information. They’ve been rooting for us forever.” My dad cried. Oh, God.

“It’s not too late to back down,” Beckett went on, sidestepping Jesse, his eyes lingering on him as he moved past. Oh, the anger was still there. At the highest of levels. “He’s right,” Jesse said in a low voice while peering at A.J. “We can protect you instead of putting you right in the line of fire.” “Call off this bullshit wedding. Please.” Beckett strode past Rory and Bear to get to his sister.

“Marriage or not. Paris or not. If the bastard knows Jesse shot him, then Ella’s his target no matter what,” A.J. reminded Beckett, sounding almost like he was on Ella’s side, which was both surprising and a change from how he’d first reacted to the idea last night. “I can’t watch another fight,” Ella whispered, moving between Beckett and A.J. with outstretched hands. “I can’t deal with this right now. We all need to be on the same side.” She released a shaky breath. “I didn’t sleep last night. I’m gonna go lie down.” “I’m so sorry, Ella,” Jesse said in a low tone, taking her by surprise. His gaze swiveled to A.J. and then to Beckett before moving back to her. “I’m sorry you have to marry a man like me,” he added, his voice cracking as he started to leave. “Fake,” she called out, feeling just as broken as he’d sounded. “It’s only fake,” she whispered. He looked at her from over his shoulder, his mouth a tight line, and that small nod from him had her legs buckling. There had never been, and she doubted there would ever be, anything truly fake about how she felt about that man.

Hell, he was struggling to focus on what his two team leaders had said during the last few minutes, too busy wondering if Ella was lying in bed crying. Jesse wanted to knock down the door, pull her into his arms, and take away all the misery and pain he’d caused her. All he’d ever wanted for that woman was happiness. And to be free from harm. But he couldn’t provide either of those things for her. At least, he never thought he could. One thing was for certain, he was now the reason she was not only unhappy but also why her life was in danger.

“Thatcher wants me back, not dead.” Jesse shook his head. “I trust him.” “Sometimes, we give our trust to the wrong people. People we’d never think would betray us,” A.J. said, and Jesse whirled to face his friend, feeling a bit gutted by the comment. A.J. held up a hand. “That wasn’t a dig at you, Jesse.”

“Don’t call me anything, in fact. I don’t know you, and maybe you don’t know the real me either.” Jesse scoffed. “Bullshit. And you know it.” He rounded the queen-sized bed and stood off to the side, keeping his eyes steady on her, noticing the way the comforter kept rising and falling in time with her deep breaths. “I know everything about you.” “Well, I’m trying to learn more about you.” Her gaze flicked to the iPad. “You’re not exactly an open book, and I expect you’ll keep your trap shut. Like always.”

“You need to stop watching these movies. They’re messing with your head.” “The only one messing with my head is you.” Her words and the sadness in her tone had him reaching for her hand on instinct, but she pulled her palm free of his touch.

“Then let’s get that kiss out of the way. It’s meaningless to me, but if you want our first kiss to happen in private before our last one in public tomorrow, then so be it.” Oh, this woman. She was evil right now. Tempting. But the little vixen had every right to torture him. And hell if he didn’t find himself getting off on her attitude.

“What’s really going on? I’m Southern. Not slow.” “Nothing, Mom.” Ella shooed her away with her free hand. “Mind if I get dressed before I go with you? I don’t think my future husband would like me to walk around in front of his teammates in a tank top and underwear.” No, no, her future husband would definitely not like her walking around like that. Too many single men out there. It was bad enough any man other than him had set his eyes or hands on Ella in the last three years.

“Griffin wants to bring Savanna to Paris,” Gray muttered, his grumpy tone making it obvious he considered the idea utter bullshit. “I need to be on this op with you guys,” Griffin explained, he and Savanna by the door. “And if I leave her here under someone else’s protection, I’ll be worried and distracted the entire time.” Savanna leaned into Griffin as he positioned his arm tight around her waist, and Jesse stared at the couple, trying to wrap his head around the news. “If there’s any chance someone might come after Savanna because of all this, you know that’s a risk I won’t take.” Griffin’s voice dropped a few octaves in warning.

“I’ll watch Ella and Savanna,” Griffin said in a deep, commanding tone. Zero fucks about the chain of command at the moment with the woman he loved thrown in the mix. “Yes, we’ll have Carter’s other guys overseas joining the team for an assist, but you know I’ll never let anything happen to Savanna or Ella.” Shit, Griffin was right. Jesse was the one who had to take out Zoran, but he hadn’t thought through who’d watch over Ella while he operated. “I trust all of you here. It doesn’t have to be you,” he told Griffin. “There’s no reason to bring Savanna over there and place her in harm’s way.” Savanna stepped forward from Griffin’s embrace. “I think it’d be a good idea for Ella to have me there. This isn’t going to be easy on her. And this kind of danger is no longer foreign to me. I can help Ella get through this. Those of us connected to you, no offense, aren’t truly safe anywhere until the threat has been handled, right?”

“The point is, Ella has been dreaming about her wedding day since she was a kid. And you were who she always wanted to marry. Certainly not Brian.” Rory stood and came before him, angling her head. “And now her family and the whole town is going to watch you two say vows, and it’s not going to be real.” Her shoulders fell. “She won’t admit how much that’s screwing with her head, and I know it was her idea, but I’m just . . .” Jesse heaved out a deep breath and looked to the ceiling, wanting to admit to his sister just how much this was screwing with his head as well. “What do you want me to do? Marry her for real?” “Yes,” Rory said in a firm voice, and Jesse dropped his focus to her face when she closed in on him. “You’re crazy.” He tried to sidestep her, but she remained a stubborn blockade, and he grunted in irritation. “You love her. She loves you. Once you kill this Zoltar guy—” “Zoran.” Rory rolled her eyes. “Just take this mothereffer out, and then you two can live happily ever after. Make babies.”

“Why’d you join the Agency in the first place? Why choose the CIA over Ella?” Jesse stopped in his tracks but only managed out, “I need to do a perimeter sweep.” He removed his gun from the back of his pants that’d been hidden beneath his shirt, and when he turned to see Rory, her eyes were glued to the weapon. “Why? Tell me that, and I’ll leave you alone,” she pleaded. He slid the muzzle of the gun alongside the outer part of his jeans. “Why does it matter? All that matters is that I did it. And you know what depression is? Focusing on a past you can’t change and letting it hurt your present.”

“It’s because of Dad. Right? It’s because of him.” Jesse hung his head and swallowed. At the feel of her hand, he peered over his shoulder at her off to his right. “Like I said, I need to check the property.” “I remember,” she cried, catching him by surprise. “I buried those memories. I hid them in a dark place in my mind, but I’ve been seeing Chris’s therapist, the one helping him with his post-traumatic stress, and all those memories . . . they came back to me.” Her voice broke, and he knew if he looked at his sister, he’d break too. “I’m sorry you remember,” he whispered. “I had hoped you never would.”

“Go. I need to do the same before I . . .” Head angled. Eyes working over her body. Holy shit. She was going to combust. “Jesse,” she softly said, forgetting what his name from her mouth had done to him back in New York. Before she had a chance to react, Jesse cupped her chin, and his piercing eyes cut straight through her as he hissed, “Ask me for it.” He angled his head, bringing his mouth close to hers. “Ask me,” he growled out, already forgetting his command for her to leave. She was breathing hard and fast, utterly confused, but “Kiss me” still left her lips, and his mouth crushed hers with such intensity she had to walk backward to not lose her balance.

“This will be a shotgun wedding if you don’t leave here in the next ten seconds, Ella Mae.” His tone hovered somewhere between angry and explosive with desire. “You. Need. To. Go.” She stared at him, not sure what to do. She didn’t want to leave, but he kept breaking her heart. Giving her hope only to steal it back in the last three years. And if she gave in to him again, she’d never recover when he took that hope away one more time. “Goodnight,” she whispered, hating her decision. But she’d hate herself more for staying.

“Why don’t you have condoms?” What the hell am I saying? “I—I thought a man like you would be prepared for anything.” “Why would I . . .” “How many women have you been with since New York?” she asked before he found his voice to finish his words. “I—I need to know.” She felt him closing in on her but couldn’t turn around to meet his gaze. She cursed herself for asking the question because she knew. His silence said it all, and she held back the tears that threatened to fall. Had she actually thought that he hadn’t been with another woman since her? That she’d been his last, same as he’d been for her? “You were engaged,” he quietly said, her eyes welling up again at the finality in his tone. “I know,” she replied, setting her forehead against the smooth wood of the door. “But that engagement was your fault.” “I’m . . . sorry.” Her chest tightened as she struggled to find her breath. An overwhelming sense of sadness washed over her as a single tear made its way down her cheek.

“Not sure if I’ll ever deserve you,” Jesse whispered as he focused back on the open ring box that held Ella’s engagement ring and wedding band. But God, do I want you. “Need you,” he added under his breath, shocked to find tears in his eyes when he looked up at himself in the mirror.

“I’m not doing it,” Rory said, shutting down his fears, thank God. “I’m teaching Sydney what I did and how to get inside undetected and plant a few devices.” Jesse held his chest at the news. He couldn’t handle anyone else being in the line of fire. Especially not his sister literally walking into the home of a bad guy. Hell no. “Your sister is rather remarkable, I will say,” Sydney commented, nodding at Rory with a smile. “Too bad she’s training canines and not on our team.” “Don’t give her any ideas.”

“And you’re certain this plan to get Sydney in and out will work?” Jesse didn’t want to insult his sister, but had she really been that good at infils? Alive to tell the tales, he supposed. “My plan will work,” Rory answered confidently. “The number of times I’ve done this is—” “One too many,” Jesse interrupted, his stomach turning. “But if you trust the plan and feel comfortable going in,” he said to Sydney this time, “then okay.”

“All I want to do is forget. Him. You crying. Their fighting. The people I watched die and couldn’t save in Iraq. The people who’ve died at home because of the war.” He tensed. “The men I’ve killed. The man I’ve become and quite possibly will always be.” He removed her hands from his shoulders and sidestepped her, needing air. “I just want to forget. Absolutely everything.” Just not Ella. Not the woman who’d kept him from being swallowed whole in that godforsaken quicksand.

“Paperwork can always be filed. But I think Jesse wants this. And I think you do too.” She pointed to the diary on the bed with her free hand. “Always have.” Ella closed her eyes, fighting the desire to cry. Her mascara might have been waterproof, but she doubted the rest of her face would survive the waterfall. “Jesse would never risk my life. If he’s saying vows tonight, it’s because he’s decided he can best protect me this way. Work the case with me under his protection at the same time. Two birds. One stone.” She sniffled, the tears imminent, damn it. “Tonight won’t be real for him, and no matter what I think or feel, I can’t let it be real for me either,” she added, opening her eyes at the knock on her bedroom door.