Navy SEAL Rescuer (14 page)

“I think it’s time to go back to the safe house.” Suddenly,
Tango was beside her, his broad frame blocking the view of the house as he put a
hand on her shoulder and urged her to his car.

She didn’t protest.

There was nothing left for her in the place where she’d grown
up. Nothing but ashes and memories.

FOURTEEN

F
our days locked in a house with Darius,
trying to ignore the way her pulse raced when he was near.

Four days readying herself to say a final goodbye to
Eileen.

Four days that Catherine was very happy to be finished
with.

“You remember the rules, right?” Darius asked as he escorted
her from the funeral home and into his truck. She hadn’t bothered with a limo.
There’d been no need. She was the only family Eileen had, and riding in Darius’s
truck was much more practical than sitting in a limousine.

Eileen would have approved.

She’d been more practical than showy.

“You’ve been drilling the rules into my head for four
days.”

“I know. But do you remember them?” he pressed, spearing her
with a look that made her squirm.

“I remember them.”

“And you’re going to follow them?”

“Yes.” She sighed, because they’d been over this a thousand
times, and she had a feeling Darius could fit in a thousand more warnings before
they made it to the cemetery.

A line of cars followed them away from the funeral home, the
small contingent of mourners hand-picked by Eileen. Church members who had come
to her aid while Catherine was in prison. People that Catherine was only just
getting to know. She’d be saying goodbye soon. To them. To the town. To her
past. Knowing that should have made her happy, but she felt hollow and empty
inside.

“You’re tense,” Darius said, his presence filling the truck.
She wanted to lean her head against his shoulder, pretend that they were going
anywhere but Eileen’s grave site, but pretending couldn’t change the truth, and
leaning on Darius would mean not leaning on herself.

She was strong.

Had always been strong.

Eileen’s death hadn’t changed that. Losing the house and
everything in it hadn’t changed it. She wouldn’t let knowing Darius change it,
either.

“I wish the police had a suspect in custody. Things have been
too quiet the past few days,” she responded, afraid of sharing more than
that.

“You’ve had twenty-four-hour guard. That’s probably deterred
the perp.”

“I hope it’s deterred him for good.”

“I wouldn’t count on it. He’s come after you three times.
Whatever his motivation, it hasn’t changed just because you have
protection.”

“Logan says they’ve cleared the family members of the murder
victims. They all have alibis and none of them seem to have a motive. I don’t
know who else would be holding a grudge against me. I can’t think of anyone at
all who would want me dead.”

“We need to dig deeper,” he said, stopping short of saying what
they needed to dig into.

Catherine knew, but she’d been holding the name Gerald
Kensington close to the cuff, trying to decide if she wanted to search for
answers. With Eileen’s funeral looming and grief clouding her thoughts, she
hadn’t been able to make up her mind. She still couldn’t.

“I need to think about it before I dig any further.”

“Think about it too long, and you may run out of time.”

“I don’t like to be pushed into things.”

“And I don’t like having my hands tied. I have all the tools at
my disposal. All I need is your go-ahead, and I can have a team of people
searching for Kensington.”

“I told you, I’ll search for him myself. When the time is
right.”

“Which would be when?”

“I don’t know.”

“Catherine, I haven’t wanted to push you, because you’re
mourning Eileen, but you have to move on this. Soon.” He pulled up behind the
hearse that carried Eileen’s remains and shifted so they were face-to-face.

“I’m going to look for him. I’m just not ready yet.”

“Then get ready, because once the funeral is over, we’re going
to do a little research on Gerald Kensington. There has to be a connection
between your family and him, and I want to know if that has anything to do with
the attacks against you.”

“You’re grasping at straws.”

“I’m trying to protect you,” he said, his voice gruff, his hand
gentle as he touched her cheek.

He hadn’t touched her since the day Eileen passed. As a matter
of fact, he’d kept a respectful distance, always near, but never in her
space.

She realized now how much she’d wanted him there. Her heart
beat hard with the knowledge, and she shifted away.

“We need to go,” she said.

“I’m waiting for Tango and the rest of the team to give me the
all clear,” he responded, but he looked like he was waiting for her, waiting for
some response that she couldn’t find it in herself to give. A signal, a sign,
something that told him he could act on the desire she saw in his eyes.

“Do you really think someone would be foolish enough to attack
me here?”

“I think that it pays to be cautious.” He glanced past her.
“Looks like we’re clear. Ready?”

“No.” But she didn’t have a choice. The time had come. The
casket was being lifted from the hearse, six members of Eileen’s church doing
what family should have been.

It had been just the two of them for so long that Catherine
hadn’t cared that she had no siblings, no cousins, no uncles or aunts. She cared
now. She wanted someone else to share her memories with. Wanted there to be one
other person who had lived what she’d lived, felt what she’d felt.

Instead, she was alone, getting out of the truck, taking one
step after another toward the final goodbye that she had no desire to say.

They should have had more time.

The thought pulsed behind her eyes as she listened to the
pastor speak about eternal life and hope in Christ. She knew those things
intellectually, believed them just as she’d always believed that God existed.
She just wasn’t sure how they applied to her. Eileen had seemed so at peace with
her life, so content even in the midst of pain and suffering.
This
was why. Faith. The thing Catherine had shut off
and closed out when she’d gone to prison. She wanted it back, but she didn’t
know how to take hold of it.

She’d come out of prison wanting to pick up where she’d left
off, wanting to go about her business feeling young and alive and unstoppable.
But prison had changed her.

She hadn’t had time to share that with Eileen, tell her how
much she wanted things to go back to the way they were and how helpless she was
to make it happen. There’d been too much going on with Eileen’s health, so many
doctor’s appointments and treatments that there hadn’t seemed to be time for
anything else.

She wished she’d made time.

She wished she’d sat down and looked into Eileen’s eyes and
told her how much she had missed her while she was in prison, how badly she’d
wanted to sit across the kitchen table from her and talk about nothing and
everything like they had when Catherine was young. She wished for another day,
another hour, even another minute, because she wanted to say
I love you
one more time and make sure that Eileen
knew how true it was. Wanted to say
Thank you
and
I’ll miss you
and
You made
my life better,
but all she could do was stand there and listen as
the pastor bestowed his final blessing.

Tears slipped down her cheeks, her chest so tight that she
wasn’t sure she could take another breath. Stars danced in front of her eyes as
she struggled to inhale and exhale again.

Darius wrapped her in his arms, his hand smoothing down her
back. She inhaled his scent, felt it fill the empty place in her heart.

“It’s not goodbye forever,” he murmured, and she burrowed
closer, her arms tight around his waist, her head against his chest. His heart
beat beneath her ear, strong and vibrant, and she could feel the place where
each of his fingers touched, feel his breath ruffling her hair. It felt so good,
so right, and it terrified her, but she couldn’t make herself move away.

Catherine’s tears soaked Darius’s shirt, and he could feel her
trembling, her soft sobs tugging at his heart. Good thing he’d asked for extra
security during the service, because his focus was on Catherine, not on the
landscape or potential threats.

She pulled back as the pastor finished his final prayer,
looking up into Darius’s eyes. Dark circles shadowed her eyes, her nose was pink
from crying, and she was still the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

He brushed hair from her cheek, and she tried to smile.

“I’m okay now,” she said.

“I know.” But he kept his hand on her waist as they approached
the casket, and she leaned into him as she whispered goodbye and placed an
orange rose on the smooth wood. For a moment, he was in the past, performing the
same ritual, saying the same tough goodbye. The hurt still lingered in the depth
of his soul, but it wasn’t fresh or terrible anymore. One day, it would be the
same for Catherine. For now, she needed time to grieve in private. He motioned
for Tango, eying the news vans that were parked a few hundred yards away. A
police barricade had prevented them from coming closer, but there was no doubt
that they’d try to move in once Catherine was home. Reporters had been calling
his place nonstop, begging for interviews that they weren’t going to get. If
Darius had anything to do with it, they weren’t even going to get photos of
Catherine mourning at her grandmother’s grave.

He kept his body between her and them as Tango approached.

“You two ready?” he asked, a look of true concern on his face
as he eyed Catherine. She looked fragile, breakable, maybe even broken, her
simple black dress clinging to slender curves, her arms wrapped tight around her
waist as if she were trying to hold in her emotions and keep herself from
falling apart.

“Is the safe house ready?” he responded, knowing exactly what
was going to happen next. Catherine stiffened.

“I thought your house was the safe house.” She frowned, her
eyes flashing.

“It’s not that safe when everyone knows you’re there. We’ve got
a new location, and everything is ready for you. Taryn is locked into the
mainframe, and the security system is online,” Tango responded before Darius
could.

“Who’s Taryn?”

“I’ll explain on the way.”

“I’d rather you explain now,” she responded.

Darius ignored her.

He didn’t have much of a choice. A small army of elderly women
had converged on them, offering condolences and wrapping Catherine in hugs that
she accepted with a stiff smile. In the distance, news reporters had exited
their vans and were aiming cameras.

“Ladies, I don’t want to cut things short, but Catherine is
exhausted.”

“Of course she is. Things haven’t been easy these past few
months, but they’ll get better, my dear. You’ll see.” A round, kind-faced woman
patted Catherine’s cheek, her grandmotherly approach eliciting a small
smile.

“Thank you, Ms—”

“Maggie Stanfield. Your grandmother and I were good friends.
I’ll miss her terribly.” Her voice broke, and Catherine patted her shoulder.

“Your friendship meant the world to her, and I’m so glad she
had you and the rest of her church group while I was in prison.”

“We are, too, my dear. Now, I’d better let you go before your
young man gets impatient.”

“Darius doesn’t have an impatient bone in his body,” Catherine
responded.

She was wrong.

He had plenty of impatience, and all of it was about to show,
because the reporters were trying to edge past the police, hoping for that one
shot that they could splash across the front page of the newspaper. He wanted
Catherine out of their line of sight and out of the open before that or
something worse happened.

Like Catherine had said, things had been too quiet the past few
days, and he didn’t expect them to stay that way forever. Whoever had tried to
kill Catherine wasn’t going to give up because her grandmother had died.

“Actually, I am an impatient person. If you’ll excuse us,
ma’am. We really do need to get out of here,” he said, taking Catherine’s arm
and offering a quick goodbye. The rest of the church contingent parted as he
hurried Catherine to his truck. They were hosting a get-together at the church
after the funeral, and they expected Catherine to be there.

Catherine expected to be there.

But, then, so did the press and, probably, the person who
wanted Catherine dead.

Which meant that Catherine was not going to show.

“I’ll follow you, Osborne,” Tango said as Darius helped
Catherine into the cab.

“Expect trouble.”

“I do.” He walked away, and Darius hopped into the truck.

“You don’t really expect trouble, do you?” Catherine asked, as
he pulled away from the grave site.

“Yes, and that’s what’s going to keep us both alive.”

“Maybe you don’t have to worry about keeping both of us alive.
Maybe whoever wanted me dead has decided that losing my grandmother was
punishment enough.” Her voice broke on the words, and he patted her thigh,
feeling taut muscle and warm skin beneath her cotton dress. His stomach clenched
in response, his entire body tuning in to her. Every breath, every subtle
movement, all of it stoking the fire that burned low in his gut.

“I’m going to keep worrying until the person who attacked you
is behind bars.” His tone was gruffer than he intended, his body throbbing with
need. He hadn’t expected to fall for Catherine, but he couldn’t deny that it was
happening. Everything about her appealed to him. Her strength, her
determination, even the faith that she clung to despite her doubts, despite her
struggles.

“I don’t want you to worry about me, Darius.”

“Too late.”

She fell silent, and he knew that she couldn’t deny what she
felt any more than he could.

From the very first day, from their very first meeting, they
had been heading toward this moment, this time when they both acknowledged that
something bigger than circumstances had brought them together.