The Broken One (Falcon Falls Security, #2)

by Brittney Sahin

“You remember that conversation you and I had in here shortly before you were supposed to marry that dumbass, Brian?” A.J. fiddled with the knot of his navy tie beneath his suit jacket. “Let me.” Ella gently pushed his hand away and undid the mess he’d made with the knot. “And yeah, I do,” she softly admitted, trying to fight the stubborn tears attempting to break free. “I realized Jesse was the one that day,” he said after clearing his throat and stepping back once she’d fixed his tie. He ran his palm over the silk and smoothed the material flat against his white shirt. “Broken or not, Jesse’s the one.” “Broken?” she whispered, remembering Jesse had said the same to her a few times now. “To be clear, I’m still mad at him that you’re in danger, but I don’t know if I can blame him for only doing his job, nor can I hate him for falling in love with you.”

“Jesse tried to protect you by staying away from you all these years. Even if it broke his heart and yours, he was trying to keep you safe.” So, you’re on the same page as Ana? Ella wasn’t sure what to expect, but she was shivering, anxious, and in need of more champagne. “What are you trying to say?” “I think you two should be together. For real. After the mission is complete, and you’re no longer a target for some psychopath and his revenge plot, nothing would make me happier than to see my best friend and sister together.” He sighed a ragged breath, emotion choking up her tough-as-nails brother. “You have my blessing is all I’m saying.” “I, um.” Ella worked her lip between her teeth, a few tears escaping. “I’m not sure if it’s me you should be telling this to.” More like Jesse. “But maybe don’t say anything to him until I know if . . . well, if there’s even a chance for us.” She squeezed her eyes closed. “Because Jesse did more than break my heart. I think he broke me too. He broke so much of me,” she cried. “And I’m just not sure if he can help me put the pieces back together.”

Jesse reached out and took her trembling hands between his big, warm palms. Oh, God. What would he say? How great of an actor was he? She supposed she was about to find out. Jesse gently squeezed her hands. “I’ve always known you were the one, Ella Mae. There’s never been anyone but you,” he said slowly. “You were with me in Iraq even though you didn’t know it. I had your picture with me. Always. Yours was the first face I looked at when I woke and the last face I saw before going to sleep.” Her stomach fluttered, and her chest grew tight as she listened to his performance. Why was he doing this to her? Why not just stick to the traditional vows? Unless . . . he wasn’t acting? The tears that threatened to spill from her eyes weren’t for show, that was for sure. “You’ve always had my heart,” he continued, turning his attention to the engagement ring on her finger.

“My heart has been with you whether I was overseas or at home,” Jesse went on, his voice full of emotion. “It’s always been with you. I’ve always loved you, and I always will. No matter what.” Those last three words made her heart ache. Was the “no matter what” his way of letting her know there’d always be some sort of roadblock preventing them from being together? She’d quickly latched on to a thread of hope as he spoke his vows, but with those three little words, he’d crushed that hope beneath his boot.

A few tears cut down her cheeks as her emotions nearly swallowed her whole. “I’m standing before the man I’ve loved from the moment I learned that feeling could extend beyond family.” This was too hard. She couldn’t say everything she truly felt without breaking down in front of everyone. She’d have to cut this short. “You’ve always had my heart. I gave it to you long ago. And no matter what, you’ll have it until the day I die.” Jesse clenched his jaw as if the idea of her dying before him had him hanging on by a thread. But he’d also understood the meaning of her no matter what, too—she was sure of it.

Ella closed her eyes and waited for his kiss. The moment their lips touched, she arched her back and leaned into his embrace, unable to stop it from happening. The kiss was slow and sensual, seeping into every fiber of her being and had her feeling far too much. She set her hands to his chest, willing herself to push a little to let him know to stop, that it was unbearable to kiss him any longer and not fall apart . . . But instead, she found herself sliding her hands up the hard planes of muscle to cup the back of his neck, drawing him closer. It was Jesse who broke the kiss, and the look in his eyes before he dropped his focus to the floor nearly gutted her. Regret? But exactly which part of all of this did he regret?

He went to her side and reached for her elbow, but she shifted from his reach. “The vows. The songs you selected. The way you’ve been putting on a show for the last two hours in front of the guests.” Tears welled in her eyes, and she knew she needed to get the cowboy boots she’d swapped her heels for to move, but she was stuck in place. Irrational again. “Are you a hitman or an actor? Because you seem to have talents I’ve been unaware of my entire life.” Those sweet and kind vows had been a knife to her heart. And then Chase Rice’s “Eyes on You,” followed by Brett Young’s “In Case You Didn’t Know” for his song choices for their first two dances just twisted the blade even deeper. “I hate you for this,” she cried. Jesse’s mouth fell open, and his attention swung back to her. “This?” He held up his left hand and pointed at the wedding ring. “This was your idea. I sure as hell didn’t want to do it. If I had my way, you’d be locked up somewhere safe.” He waved a hand toward the woods. “Not out in the open in danger. Not going to Paris as my wife.” “Fake wife,” she rasped the reminder, more for herself than for him. “And you and I both know I’m in danger whether we’re married or not, but if this ‘wedding’ lures the bastard out sooner rather than later, then we can part ways that much faster, which seems to be your preference.”

She slapped a palm to his chest, surprised to find his heartbeat out of control. “You’re the one always running from me. You ran off to the Army. Then you kept re-enlisting. Then you ran to the CIA. And now Falcon. Always going every which way but to me.” Tears glided down her cheeks. “And the only crazy thing about me is that I keep thinking things will change. That you’ll finally stop running. Or, at least, you’ll run toward me for once.” She sniffled, and Jesse surprised her by swiping the pads of his thumbs beneath her eyes, his head angled, studying her. “You’re perfectly okay with having sex with me, but is that it? Is that all you’ll ever allow to happen?” Jesse’s mouth set in a tight, grim line. Maybe that was the blow that finally woke him up.

“You really do hate me, don’t you?” His voice was low, almost inaudible. She squeezed her eyes closed, hating that she was fighting with him on their wedding day, regardless if it wasn’t real. “Maybe I don’t hate you,” she confessed, her shoulders falling in defeat. If only she could hang on to her anger and truly hate him, it’d help her move on. “But I don’t think I can trust you not to hurt me again.”

“Ella, look at me, please,” he said, softer this time. “I know you’re mad. And tonight was . . . hard. I’m sorry. I’m sorry you’re in this situation.” His pause had her opening her eyes. “But I wasn’t acting.” She shook her head, anger fighting its way back into her heart at his words, which was most likely not what he’d expected to happen. “Don’t you dare give me hope, Jesse McAdams. Don’t you dare.” She shoved his hand from her hip, and he backed up a step. “Ella Mae.” “Don’t Ella Mae me. Don’t say anything.” She swiped the backs of her hands over her cheeks, trying to remove the traitorous tears. “And don’t tell me there really was a photo you kept of me in Iraq. Or that you gave me this”—she lifted her hand to show the heart-shaped diamond ring—“because I’ve always had your heart even when you were gone.”

“Happy is a place you’ll only steal from me.” When he remained quiet, she slowly turned to face him, finding he’d closed the distance yet again. “You wrecked me. Destroyed me long before tonight. And now I have this chance to go to Paris and finally get you out of my head, and we’re going as husband and wife. God hates me. He must really hate me.” Her voice gave out, and her knees nearly did as well. “I don’t know what to say,” he whispered. She squeezed that frustrating lump down her throat. “Maybe that’s because there’s nothing left to say. Maybe we’re both broken, and we can only ever exist together in that world of anger. Or the one of lust.”

“I messed up. Pretty damn badly.” Jesse’s voice nearly broke like Savanna’s famous brownie brittle that cracked apart in his palm with the slightest touch. That was also how his heart felt right about now. “Messed up how?” Jesse rolled his head to the side to view Savanna. “Well, there’s a lot I’ve messed up over the years, I suppose. But at this present moment, I was referring to when I slipped and told Ella I loved her for the first time in front of everyone, and she thinks it was an act.” He reached into his back pocket for his wallet and set it on his thigh. “And she doesn’t believe I carry her picture around with me.” His palm rested atop the worn leather as he thought about the three photos he had of Ella inside.

“Well,” she said, turning in her seat to fully face him, “she, the heroine, doesn’t actually hate him. She’s hurt. But more than that, she’s scared and frustrated.” Her words were jabs to his head and heart. “And the guy, the hero, is misunderstood. He’s kept secrets from her for years. But everything he did was because he didn’t believe he deserved this woman. So, in trying not to break her heart by staying away from her, he wound up doing exactly that.” Savanna’s eyes shifted to her fiancé. Was she remembering their own story? Their journey to find each other? “And then what?” Jesse could guess how this story ended, but he needed to hear it. To believe real life, his life, could imitate art. “The guy realizes that not being with her is far worse than anything else, and he finds a way to win her back, whatever the cost.” She paused. “Throw in some miscommunication. A fight or two to add some angst. And, well, you know, to ramp up the sexual tension.”

“I know you’re not happy about Paris,” she began, “but thank you for letting me come here anyway.” Jesse clutched the chair arms before he did one of two things: hauled Ella onto his lap or opened the emergency door and jumped without a chute. Because what in God’s name was he thinking in taking Ella to Paris to draw out a madman?

Her eyebrows dipped, and he felt more fighting words coming for him. “You chose to become a contract killer. You chose taking lives over a life with me.” Her tone was more heartbroken than angry, even though it was clear to him she preferred not to expose the sadness. “Your decision to become a hitman is why we’re here. Not because you left someone alive.” She leaned forward a bit and added, “You screwed up.”

He turned to leave but stilled when she reached out and laid a hand on his arm. Jesse stared at Ella’s delicate hand, waiting for her to speak. “When?” she softly asked. He angled his head. “When what?” “When were you sent to deal with Zoran? What day?” Her tone had softened a touch now. Jesse dropped his focus to his boots, but he caught Griffin shifting in his seat, obviously uncomfortable about where this conversation was headed. “June of last year.” He kept it vague, worried she’d put two and two together. She remained quiet for a moment. “Had you ever failed before that day?” And yup, she knows. “No.”

Ella now stood with her arms pinned behind her back, being nudged forward by one of the officers, and it took every ounce of Jesse’s control to not do something stupid when she threw him a panicked look. Jesse quickly maneuvered to the officer who appeared to be in charge. “Where she goes,” Jesse began in a low, raspy tone while angling his head, “I go.”

“Your interests and ours align. We appreciate the listening devices and cameras you installed at Aleksa Stanković’s estate, but we’ll be handling Aleksa from here on. You have something more critical to help us out with,” the Frenchman said while brushing his hands down his now rumpled shirt. “Au revoir. We wish you the best of luck on your mission.” His tone was suddenly somber, and Jesse had the feeling that something crucial was being left out or lost in translation—maybe both—despite the fact they were speaking English, not French.

“Give me a phone too. I need to talk to Savanna.” Griffin dug into the bag without waiting as Jesse brought the phone to his ear. “She’s not answering,” Jesse said after three attempts. “Nothing for you either?” Griffin shook his head and called again. “Nothing.” This was that shoe dropping. Ella and Savanna were in danger. They were with Sydney, but . . . “Sydney’s not answering either,” Gray told them, and Jesse was surprised Gray hadn’t been tasered as well when Sydney was pulled away from them that morning. Jesse had noticed that the man had a soft spot for her, and assumed it was from their time together years ago at West Point.

Jesse nearly squeezed the breath from Ella’s lungs, holding her so tight against his frame that his ammo vest dug into her ribs, not that she cared. She didn’t want him to let her go. “I want a bow,” Ella mumbled, thinking about Sydney and how she’d handled herself while waiting for the cavalry she hadn’t known was coming. “What?” he whispered, still cupping the back of her head with one palm while the other remained firmly against her back.

Ella remained quiet, not ready to leave Jesse’s strong embrace. “Did anyone touch you? Did Rochella—” “No,” Ella cut Jesse off, her voice trembling. “No one hurt me.” “Thank God. I’m so sorry,” he rasped into her ear before easing up on his hold and slowly releasing her. Ella reluctantly untangled herself from him when that was the last thing she wanted to do. “I’m okay. We’re all okay,” she whispered, letting her tears flow as the shock of what had just happened tried to take hold.

Jesse must have sensed Ella’s fear because he tightened his hold of her. It had to be hard for Jesse to stand down and watch Carter handle Henry when she knew he most likely wanted to tear the man apart if he was in any way connected to what happened tonight. The fact he’d reined in his anger instead of attacking Henry, that he’d chosen to stay by her side and comfort her, meant more than he could possibly know.

No. Ella squeezed her eyes closed, knowing what was coming. And she wasn’t sure if her heart could take the news. She’d been so excited when this icon of the fashion world had sought her out and said he loved her designs, offered her a chance to work with Rochella. But it was all fake. My God, she felt like a fool. How could she have ever truly believed a billionaire would stumble upon her Instagram account with only fifty-nine followers? “There are no Southern gems. No retirement-birthday party for your mom in June. It was all fake,” she whispered, tears choking her up now. “The retirement and party are real, but no, there are no, um, gems.” Henry’s words had her opening her eyes, her heart breaking. “I was instructed to help them draw a woman to Paris. A woman whose interest was fashion. And well, that’s why they picked me. They seemed to already know so much about you, I—I don’t know.” He looked at Ella, and there was a hint of apology in his eyes, but she refused to accept any sorrys from him if he were to offer. “I didn’t have a choice.”

“What does he want with us? This, um, Chechen?” Ella softly asked, still trying to wrap her head around the fact one of her fashion idols had used her like bait to save his own ass. Carter looked at Ella with regret. “It’s me he wants.” Ella set the heel of her hand to her forehead and massaged, her head hurting from trying to understand it all. “Let me get this straight. Henry helped get me here, and the agencies only wanted me here because then Jesse would come. And if Jesse came, then Carter would too. And if Carter’s here, then this Chechen will eventually come because he wants Carter?” What-the-what? The fact Carter nodded meant he’d followed her rambling, and it was on point.

“You shouldn’t have resisted,” she said, knowing Jesse was most likely leaning against the door and able to hear her. “You were tasered because of me. I’m sorry.” She went on when he remained quiet, “I didn’t want to go with Henry when they released us, by the way. The officers forced us. I didn’t want to leave you there. That killed me, just so you know.” Her voice broke this time, and she wasn’t sure if he’d heard her last words over the running water that was taking forever to heat up since it’d most likely not been used in some time. “I’m just thankful you’re okay.” His voice was too close, which meant only one thing. Ella parted the curtain enough to peek out, finding Jesse inside the bathroom with his back to the closed door.

“Jesse?” she whispered, feeling a bit panicked that he was going to cut and run. Not physically, but emotionally bail on her. “What?” The word came out choked, like a muffled sound as if he were dealing with an internal battle of some sort, and she needed to pull him to her side before he surrendered to the worries and bad thoughts. She prevented him from unleashing on Henry, so there had to be hope. Her heart was pounding furiously as her nerves took over, but with both hands, she parted the shower curtain, relieved the water was now warm and allowed her “husband” to see her completely naked for the first time in three years. On the plane, he’d seen most of her, but not all of her. “What are you doing?” he asked through clenched teeth. “Nothing has been real,” she began in a soft voice, shivering despite the warmer water, and her nipples hardened to painful points. “The marriage. The Southern gems. Nothing. But what I feel for you here and now, despite all the craziness . . . is real.” She set a hand over her heart and kept going so she wouldn’t break down and sob. “What I feel for you right now, it’s real. And no one can take that from me.” She swallowed. “From us.”

“You need to know that as angry as I might get with you at times, or as scared as maybe I’ve been . . . my vows to you were real.” I love you. I’ll always love you.

“Are you going to reject me, Jesse Edward McAdams?” she whispered. “Or are you going to love me?” Two steps closer, and he was within arm’s reach. “I told you my vows were real. So are the photos in my wallet. All of it,” he returned in a low tone that had a shiver going down her spine. “How I feel about you, and how I have always felt about you is more real than my own existence,” he rasped while erasing the last bit of space between them, and without hesitation, he cupped the back of her head. He looked deep into her eyes and added in a hoarse voice, “It’s so real that in three years, I haven’t so much as touched another woman.” His lips met hers, and she sealed her eyes as his tongue explored her mouth, and it took her a few seconds to truly comprehend what Jesse had confessed. And he’d said a hell of a lot.

“Jesse?” He opened his eyes at the sound of Ella’s soft voice guiding him back to the present, and he spotted her standing on the other side of the table where his cell phone lay faceup. Those beautiful blue eyes were the calm to his storm. Always had been. She’d never had a clue about his father’s temper or abuse, but she was always the first person he’d sought out back then to help “revitalize” him, in a way. There’d always been something about her that put him at ease, long before his attraction to her had become sexual. Her fresh outlook on the world made all the ugly at home fade away. And looking at Ella right now, not even five minutes after he’d admitted to her in the bathroom how he really felt . . . made the memory with his dad hurt less. The pain in his chest felt as though it was shrinking in size the longer she stared at him. Ella reached over and set her palm over his hand on the table. Had something officially changed between them upstairs?

Jesse looked at Carter from the corner of his eye, realizing there was an obvious beef he’d been unaware of between the two men. New boss versus old boss. Well, if tonight was proof of anything, it was that Jesse was firmly on Carter’s side. And he now understood why Carter hadn’t liked Thatcher from the get-go. He’d most likely worked with him before.

Ella quickly shook the thoughts from her mind and replaced them with a different memory, one she never wanted to forget—his confession that in the three years since their weekend in New York, he hadn’t so much as touched another woman. After which, he’d kissed her like she’d always belonged to him.

“I risked my neck by giving Carter that intel at the safe house. And I risked my job.” Zoey turned toward Carter, his back once again to the room, a drink in hand. “But you’re right, no one stopped me from coming here, which leads me to believe that cocksucker Thatcher hoped things would play out this way. He most likely knew what I’d do even before I did. My suspension may have been calculated as well. I wouldn’t put anything past the CIA, or hell, my own boss.” “If Thatcher wants you here, it’s for his own benefit, that’s for damn sure,” Jesse spoke for the first time since Zoey’s arrival. “He wants Yuri. We all do. But the difference is Thatcher wants the son of a bitch captured and will use any means to achieve that, and I want The Chechen dead,” Zoey informed Jesse, leveling him with a hard look. Her gaze then moved to Ella, and her green eyes softened. “I promise I would never use innocent people to get what I want though. I would never have agreed to Thatcher’s plan involving you.”

“Just because Carter is right about the job being dangerous doesn’t mean he’s prophetic. It doesn’t mean I’ll die because . . .” Because of your past. Or your future with Falcon. “I thought you and I were making progress.” She leaned forward, grabbed hold of his free hand, and squeezed. “What you said to me in the shower and—” “I meant every word,” he rasped, letting the bottle in his other hand slip to the ground. “But I can’t change the fact I’m terrified something will happen to you because of me.” “I don’t know if I made this clear,” Ella began around a sniffle, “but I accept you for who you are and who you were. And I want you. Every part of you. All of it.” Her tears fell freely now as Jesse pulled her onto his lap. “I just want you, and I don’t care about anything else. Please, please don’t run from me. Not again.” “Oh fuck, Ella.” He closed his eyes, rested his forehead against hers, and sighed, his chilly hands caressing her face. “I don’t deserve you, but I don’t want to give you up.” She eased back and placed her palm to his cheek, prompting him to lift his gaze to hers, and when his beautiful blue eyes met hers, she cried, “I sure as hell won’t let you give me up . . . and you know how damn stubborn I am.”

“I can’t imagine having to leave someone behind knowing they would undoubtedly die,” she softly said as he unlinked their arms to open the door. “It’s the last thing anyone in the Army ever wants. Dying is better than being the only one to come home.” His voice was strained, and she knew he was speaking from an unbearable experience, and possibly more than one time.

“They’ve been pulling our strings this whole time,” Jesse said, eyes dead set on Zoey. “Including yours, from the sounds of it.” “But that doesn’t mean she needs to go,” Gray remarked. “My only question . . . is this still a capture mission?” He crossed his strong arms over his barrel of a chest. “You’re willing to forgo the rules?” Carter asked, raising his brows as if shocked by this. Gray looked at Jesse, then over at Zoey. “Fuck it. And fuck what my father wants.” He nodded, his decision clearly final. Ella had to assume Gray’s father, the Secretary of Defense, wanted The Chechen brought in alive, like Thatcher. “I say we do it. We kill Yuri and Zoran. Take them all out.”

“With us, darlin’, they’re one and the same. Hard or soft. Slow or fast. With you, it’s always love.” “Even in New York?” she whispered. “Every time with you,” he rasped, his teeth grazing over her lower lip.

“No one ever touches you again. Fucks you. So much as looks at you.” She felt that order all the way down to her toes, but she also knew it was more of a rough command directed at himself: Don’t screw up and lose her.

“Tell me something, has anyone ever asked you how many people you’ve saved? Or do they just want to know your kill count?”

“Come to think of it, I guess no one has ever asked me how many people I’ve saved.” Jesse shrugged and swiped his free hand over his damp hair. He’d managed to sneak in a quick shower without waking his sleeping beauty before coming down for the coffee pick-me-up and seeing if there were any developments. “Weird, right?” Jack sat on the hearth of the fireplace and warmed his hands near the flames. “Every asshole’s life I take, I count that as a bare minimum of three saves.”

Brian. Fucking Banker Boy Brian. He hadn’t slept with Ella. Never had his cock or his tongue between his woman’s thighs. The moment she’d shared that news, he’d nearly lost his control and split Ella apart in his desire to have his way with her. He’d had to fight like all hell to calm down the animal inside him before he’d touched her upstairs.