SEIZED Part 3: Steamy Romantic Suspense (Seize Me Romance Fiction Series) (8 page)

Carrie

We drive back to my hotel without saying another word. I like that—he respects me enough to offer silence. There’s nothing to say. I’ve just found out that the man I thought may be my Mr. Forever is in fact a liar and a criminal. What is there to say in this situation? Nothing; that is the answer. No words, only time will heal this feeling. Time and work.

I clearly need to reassess myself. The way I judge men is and has always been flawed. Either that or I’m a fool. There’s one good thing about the operation. They have plenty of video footage. Blake is not getting away with any of this, and the FBI team is still in New Jersey watching the action.

There’s a horrible feeling at the pit of my stomach about his demise, and an elephant in the room about the lack of resolution with April. Still, I feel closer to the end. I just wish we hadn’t left April behind.

A part of me is relieved we left the depression of those slums. I needed to be gone from it and for an unknown reason, I’m glad it’s with this man. I look over at Jason. He’s calm and confident, driving with one hand on the wheel and the other relaxed on his lap. Occasionally, he looks over at me as if I’m going to explode. The grenade that is Carrie James. How much betrayal can she take?

I look out the window and watch the city go by, the streets look busy today. People doing their thing, being busy, being flawed, being human. It’s not like I’d be the perfect girlfriend, but at least I’m mostly honest. I feel a sense of moral outrage—that’s what it is.

More than anything, I feel Blake did me wrong. I feel righteous, like he has broken the rules of my already busted-up heart. I want to set him straight and make everything ok again. But I won’t. I’m done with him. This sort of deception needs more than the ego boost of telling him off.

He must be telepathic—my phone rings and it’s him. Crazy, fucked-up bastard, I wonder what line he’s going to feed me now.

“Blake.”

“Carrie, where are you?”

“I’m driving. I need to ask a really big favor of you.”

“Sure.”

He agrees without hesitation, and I realize he has no idea that I’ve seen him with Neon or how angry I am.

“I need you to hang up the phone and never call me again. Do you hear me? Never.”

There’s silence on his end. I think I’ve been clear enough so I hang up before he can respond. It feels good. I left him no chance to argue. I’m done listening to his excuses. I don’t care what history we have. Enough is enough.

We arrive back at the hotel. Jason is careful as he ushers me out of the car. I just want to get into my bed and disappear, but I’m starving hungry too.

“I’ve got a food order reserved already,” I say, gesturing at the restaurant on the second floor of the lobby.

“Do you want me to come with you?”

“Not really.”

He nods and tells me he understands before showing me to the elevator. I am mesmerized by the lights as we move up the floors. He grasps my shoulder gently when the doors open, to let me know I’ve arrived on my floor. I pretty much stagger down the hallway beside him—it feels that way, but the mirror I pass tells me I look completely normal.

He makes sure I am safely in my room. Suddenly, I don’t want to be alone.

“Will you have dinner with me?” I ask.

“I have to get back to my team. Once we have what we need, I’ll be back to check in on you. I’ve got you covered, okay?”

His kindness is a relief. I need it right now. I need to feel like someone cares.

He leaves and I lean against the wall beside my room door. I can’t believe how sore my legs are. The exhaustion is overwhelming. So much has happened today. Now I’m alone in my room with my thoughts.

I climb into the bed with all my clothes on. I need a shower and a good night’s sleep, but I need to eat more. Instead, I close my eyes and wait for room service to knock at my door. When I hear it, I get up to answer it. I’m ridiculously pleased to see it’s Jason who’s arrived. His disguise is now gone, and he’s carrying cheeseburgers and cokes. Thank God!

“Change of plans with going back to your team?” I ask as he sets down the food on the small table.

“Blake stormed off and Neon left without taking anything from April. The team will keep up the surveillance and see how the night progresses.”

I’m so disappointed. I can barely eat. He assures me they’ll keep monitoring April, now that they know where she is. It’s a small comfort, but it helps me to relax.

He sits in the chair across the room. I take a seat at the edge of the bed with my food. I spread some napkins in front of me so I don’t seem like such a savage, but I don’t pay another moment of attention to him or anything until at least half of it is in my tummy. This kind of activity can really work up an appetite!

There’s no need for talk. I do glance up occasionally to see what he’s doing. I’m disappointed when he doesn’t meet my eyes. Already I want his affirmation, but he seems to be fixated on something out the window. It’s dark now, and the city is alive below us.

“How are you feeling, Carrie?”

“Full,” I say.

It’s true. I’ve eaten and now my stomach, eyes, mind, heart and soul have had enough of everything.

We remain in a compatible silence for a while.

He comes over to the bed and puts his fingers to his lips so I don’t make a sound. He reaches up under my shirt and switches of the microphone device I’m wired to. I completely forgot about it.

“Carrie. I’ll tell you why I joined the FBI,” he says out of the blue. “It was mostly to do with my dad. We used to watch spy movies together when I was a kid. There was something so appealing about being undercover; about being a spy. The FBI was the closest match, I guess.

“It wasn’t until I started that I realized how passionate I am. The work I’ve been doing is a double-edged sword. It’s vital work. I know how important it is, and at the same time, it sickens me. I dream about those children. I have nightmares about their little tortured bodies and the ones we never find.”

              His candor surprises me. I’ve only known him for the day, but this is different from the Agent Cooper I’ve seen so far. He’s got a vulnerable look as he speaks. There’s something unusually compelling about it.

“When I saw what was happening to so many women and children, I knew I had found my niche. I was always protecting my little sister from schoolyard taunts. Doing this work gives me a similar feeling of purpose. The sad part is our team is underfunded and under-recognized. It’s because of the number of foreigners who are affected. It’s as if the Bureau measures the damage by nationality. I know I’m generalizing here, but whatever affects the most Americans tops the priority list. I’ve seen it time and time again. Our team receives less training, and there’s less renewal among our ranks.”

I let him continue talking. I’m learning. There’s a lot more to him than I originally thought. I can’t lie, it intensifies my attraction to him. He looks so handsome, his profile all dark and broody as he talks about his work. It’s sexy. I like a man who has passion. I’m just not sure of anything. If I misjudged Blake so badly, I could have misjudged Jason as well.

“Carrie when I first told you about Blake and Neon, I wanted to protect you from the whole truth. But after tonight, I’m confident it’s best you know everything. When the team first discovered he was meeting with Neon they logged an intimate encounter between the two of them. It appears they’ve been together for some time.”

His eyes are apologetic as he continues. “I know this must be heartbreaking, and regardless of what’s happened, I want you to know I understand how betrayal feels. I know you’re going through a lot of pain today, having known Blake since high school, then starting a relationship with him in the last couple of weeks, only to find he’s not what he seemed, like we all witnessed today…

“It’s a bitter pill to have to swallow. I want to comfort you, to be there for you. I just have to be cautious. Do you know what I mean?”

What is a girl supposed to say to that? If there were an Oscar for breaking the news of betrayal to a girl, then this guy would take it home without a doubt. The news about Blake and Neon doesn’t come as a surprise after seeing them together this evening, but the news about Jason’s intentions does. I feel like hugging the guy.

“I don’t know what to say,” I start. “Thank you for your respect and your help. It’s had to face the truth when it comes with pain, but I appreciate you for telling me the truth. I have no idea what I’m going to do or say, but I know I don’t want to be alone.”

“I think I understand.”

“Do you, Jason? Can you accept that from me? I don’t know what I want. I can’t give you any guarantees. Can you stay with me tonight, maybe just hold me, and expect nothing more?”

“Is that what you’re offering here?”

I’ve never been so boldly honest with a guy about my needs. I’ve never thrown it out on the table like that before. I don’t know how he’s going to react. I’m numb from today—anyone would be, after seeing what I’ve seen.

“Carrie, that’s why I’m here. If companionship is what you need, then I’m here to give it to you.”

His words, and his acceptance of my vulnerability make me want to cry. I do need companionship; I do need to talk. I need all the things I just asked for, and it’s such a relief when he agrees to give them to me.

He stands up, walks over and gently collects me in his arms. He holds me to him and whispers in my ear. He strokes my hair and rubs my back and when I go limp in his arms he sinks down on the bed, pulling me to his body, holding me as I sit there. He says nothing and does nothing. All he does is listen to my pain, and tell me I don’t deserve any of this.

I tell him about everything Blake said and did on the case. I tell him about the interviews, and the way he blamed me for not realizing I had April’s purse. I tell him about Blake’s suspicions of reporters, and how he always thought I was going to betray him. Finally I tell him about Blake’s alcoholism and his rage. The times when he scared me, and the boy I used to know back in high school.

Jason listens. There’s nothing for him to say. He lets me talk through everything and process the chaos. I share about Brenda and George, and the way Blake is such a good uncle. I share about the photo albums and the old pictures of Neon that are in them at his apartment. I share my obsession.

Gulping, I admit that I thought about Blake for years after I last saw him, and my sense it was fate when I got to the police station and found he was on my case. I want to shrink with this last admission. My ego doesn’t want anyone to know that I think like this, but instead I just keep going.

I talk about the attack and how scared I was, about the feeling of powerlessness watching them hurt April, and how I lost all my strength. I share with him about forgetting my Judo training, and freezing up as I hid under the car. He holds me and tells me he’ll protect me. He tells me Blake is psychotic. He tells me there’s no way I should have gone through what I did. He tells me it’s not my fault.

Together we sit there. I feel myself start the healing process. I cry and I talk. I’m aware that soon he’ll have to leave. I don’t want him to leave yet. Having another person hold me and listen feels so good. I don’t want to let go, even if I’m not yet ready for more. I rest my head back on the pillow. He sits at the edge of the bed and holds my hand. I feel I’ll soon drift to sleep.

I open my eyes in a few minutes later. The energy between us has changed. I’m snuggled into bed with my hand around his, and I’ve rested them on my breasts. He looks down at me with eyes that are full of desire. I don’t say anything when he stretches out beside me and pulls me closer, I’m not sure what to say or think. There’s some attraction between us, but I’m not sure I’m ready to let him touch me that way. I feel so vulnerable right now. I don’t think I want anyone’s hands on my body, but I don’t know how to move away.

His hands are on my back, stroking gently and massaging my shoulders. It feels lovely and relaxing. Without my permission, by body starts to respond, waking up underneath his touch. He works his way up my neck and shoulders. He begins to massage the base of my skull, releasing the tension from the day. It sends shivers up and down my spine. His strong hands make rhythmic circles, around and around. The pads of his fingers send electrical sparks into my skull, and I snuggle closer, following his lead.

By the time he gets to my forehead I’m in another world, blissed out and open. This has to be the most intense massage I’ve ever received. He strokes my eyebrows and then my eyelids as I flutter each one closed. It’s such an intimate touch, and so soft. He’s stroking me the way you would touch a delicate flower. I love being treated like glass.

This is definitely crossing the line, but I don’t care. Having his hands on me feels good. Surely this is harmless. Me and a hot FBI agent.

I open my eyes and see that his face is closer than I thought. His lips are open and his pupils are as dilated, as mine must be. Our chests are virtually touching and with one flawless movement he pulls me even closer so I can feel the buttons of his shirt through my clothes. His hands are in my hair. Our eyes meet for a second as he asks my permission.

I want to feel his mouth on me, I do. I want his hands on me. I do. But something inside knows that I can’t. My heart has been bounced around enough today. Now is not the time for another ride. I start to shake my head but he leans in and kisses me before the words can escape my mouth. It’s a powerful kiss, deep and intimate. He opens my mouth with his tongue, taking me under until I have to either surrender or pull away.