“He’ll kill me.”
“I’m going to kill you a lot slower if you don’t answer, so you might as well tell me.”
“His name’s Kimball. He’s American.”
“Description.”
“I don’t know.”
Jack squeezed again, and the man blacked out for a few minutes. He slapped him across the face until the man came to, and Jack waited until his eyes gained focus before asking again.
“Please, man. I need a doctor.”
“You’re about to need an undertaker. Give me a description of Kimball.”
“Big guy. About your size. Military. Or at least he looks that way. Scary son of a bitch.”
“How does he pay you?”
“Electronic transfer.”
“Good boy. You’re finally starting to learn.” Jack tapped his cheek a couple more times as the guy started to drift off. “You can pass out in a minute. Tell me what information you were supposed to get from me.”
“We were supposed to find out about the package some bloke sent to the place you’re living.”
Chills ran down Jack’s spine. Whoever was behind The Passover Project had a longer reach than he’d thought. “And what if I didn’t tell you?”
“Then we were supposed to knock you out and take you with us. If we couldn’t get the information out of you, then Kimball thought he could.”
“I bet he did.” Jack stood up. A grey, hazy light was starting to peak over the city, and he knew it wouldn’t be long before traffic started to pick up.
“Did he want to know only about me, or did he mention other names?”
“He said something about an Edgar Harris, but you were our priority.”
“What’s your name?”
“Brian Kirby.”
“Today’s your lucky day, Kirby. Go back to Mr. Kimball and tell him that if he wants to tangle with me, then he needs to have the guts to do it himself. Tell him I’ll be waiting for him.”
Jack stepped over the dead guy and headed out of the alley. One of his damned ribs was cracked, and he’d need stitches in his arm, but the important thing was he had information to give to Ethan to put in that amazing computer of his. Brian Kirby had just given him part of the pieces to the puzzle.
The good news was they were making someone out there really nervous. People who were nervous made big mistakes. And people who made big mistakes ended up dead.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Gabe waited until the water went off and Grace was out of the sight before going to take his own shower. Her words pounded through him over and over again until all he could hear was the accusing tone of her voice in his mind.
Had he been too involved in agency work to pay attention to what was happening with his family? He knew he’d started to shut down that last year of their marriage. Living a double life had taken its toll on him. Life among terrorists and human beings of the lowest life form was a cruel and terrible existence, and the only bright spot in his life had been Grace and Maddie. And he hadn’t wanted them to be touched by the other life he was having to live.
Despite it all, he and Grace had somehow made their marriage work. Or at least he thought they had. When one of them was away on assignment, the other was always at home with Maddie. But his time with Tussad, and what the CIA wanted Gabe to do within Sayad’s organization, had made him pull away from the goodness that waited for him at home. He had a duty to his country. That had been drilled into him from an early age, and he was glad to do it. Proud to do it. But he’d had a duty to Grace as well—the most basic being to love, honor, and cherish. Somewhere along the way he’d failed miserably.
And when Maddie had died and Grace had left, he’d closed in on himself. Grace spoke the truth when she blamed him. He blamed himself. If he hadn’t been working with Tussad, then Maddie would still be alive. He couldn’t even blame the CIA for giving him the job—he’d been eager to take it, eager to see the terrorist finally brought to justice.
But things had gone terribly wrong, and he and Grace had each wallowed in their own fear and anguish and guilt until something else formed—something unhealthy and consuming. It had obviously affected Grace differently than it had affected him, and he needed to do whatever it took to fix it. She was hurting. And she wasn’t healthy. If she wanted him out of her life after she was better, then so be it. But he owed it to her to help with the healing. He owed it to both of them because he needed to heal too.
He ducked his head under the hot spray and let the water soothe his sore muscles. He thought of Grace and how she’d felt around him, and his body automatically hardened. She’d felt better than he’d remembered. And he couldn’t help but wonder if she’d found comfort and solace with another man over the last two years. Jealousy consumed him, and he closed his eyes and blanked his mind against the faceless man he saw in his imagination. He needed to get a grip.
Gabe turned off the water with an agitated flick of the wrist and wrapped a towel around his waist. He brushed his teeth but was too tired to bother with shaving. The beard would have to stay a little longer. When he opened the door into the bedroom area, he saw Grace lying on her side, facing away from him. She was burrowed under the covers, so only the flame of her hair showed against the white of the sheets.
He dropped the towel and slid in next to her, pulling her against him so their naked bodies spooned together. He buried his face in the scent of her hair and drifted off to sleep.
Grace woke up slowly—and somewhere familiar. The heat of flesh was wrapped around her in a comfortable cocoon, and she sighed with contentment before realization struck her and her muscles tensed.
“Relax,” Gabe whispered in her ear. His breath was hot across her neck, and his hand splayed possessively over her stomach.
She let out a slow breath and didn’t fight against his hold. It felt too good. “I’m not strong enough for this anymore, Gabe.”
“For what?”
“For anything. The job. You.”
“You’re the strongest person I’ve ever known, Grace. But everyone needs a little help now and then.”
“Not you. You’ve never seemed to need help with anything.” Or from anyone, she added silently.
“Not true.” He pulled her closer and burrowed into her softness. Grace wondered if anyone else knew that the most dangerous man in the world liked to snuggle. Her heart pounded in her chest, and something inside her felt so full she thought she’d burst from it. She wanted to tell him the rest of it. What else had happened after Maddie’s death and their estrangement, but she didn’t have the courage. She didn’t want his pity. And she didn’t want to see how the news affected him.
“Touch me, Gabe” she begged. “Make me feel. It’s been so long since I felt anything but cold.”
Gabe dropped his head against her and groaned. His fingers tightened against her stomach, and his erection stirred against her ass.
“Not fair, Grace. I’m trying to be good here.”
“Just once more. Please, Gabe. Make me warm.”
He ran light kisses over her shoulders and in the hollow of her neck. She turned over onto her back so he loomed over her, and she wrapped her arms around him, bringing him closer. She smoothed his unruly hair back from his forehead and looked deep into the blue of his eyes.
“I want this,” she said, lowering her hand until she grasped his hard cock. “And you want this too.”
Grace lifted up and took his mouth in a hot kiss that promised a fast and furious coupling. She gripped his shoulders hard and scissored her legs to get him into the position she craved, but he softened the kisses, making each one slow and steady, nibbling his way across her body, and driving her absolutely crazy.
“What are you doing? I want it faster. I need you inside me now.”
