Shadow of a Doubt (Tangled Ivy Book 2) (38 page)

I shrugged, my face getting hot. “Um, I guess if he found us in bed together, that would help.”

“Yeah, that oughta do the trick,” he said dryly. “I know it would for me. I just need to make a phone call first, okay?”

I nodded, finishing my wine in one swallow while I waited as Scott slipped outside into the hallway to make his call. When he came back, I led him uneasily down the hallway to my bedroom. We didn’t speak as I dropped my robe and climbed under the bedcovers in my bra and panties. Scott removed his shirt and shoes, but left his jeans on. I didn’t object.

Scott pulled me into his arms and I didn’t resist. “Did they hurt you?” he asked.

I shook my head, his skin warm against my cheek. “No. Clive was a little rough, but all they did was drug me up and take my blood.”

“So you didn’t see where they took you.”

“No.”

His arms tightened around me. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Yeah. Me, too.”

I tried to keep my eyes open, but found them drooping. I must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I knew, Scott was kissing me. Too groggy and surprised to do anything, I was frozen, his body on top of mine. Then I realized Devon was there and that was why Scott had taken the initiative so abruptly.

He hauled Scott up from the bed and I watched in horror as Devon smashed his fist into Scott’s jaw. Scott was unprepared and went careening into the wall. He was up in an instant and tackled Devon, slamming him against the closet door.

“No! Stop!” I clambered out of the bed and ran forward, which was a colossally stupid thing to do when two huge men were trying to kill each other in a small space.

A flying fist hit me almost immediately, making me cry out in pain as I was knocked into a table and fell to the floor. I clutched my side; the corner had dug hard into my ribs, and I tasted blood. My teeth had cut the inside of my mouth.

The men stopped fighting instantly and I felt someone’s hands on my back. I was face-first on the carpet, my knees drawn up toward my chest as I sucked in air. I’d known something like this would happen, the two men fighting, it was just very real all of the sudden. As were the things I knew I had to say and do.

“Ivy . . . God . . . are you all right? Let me help you,” Scott said.

“Get out of the way, you bloody bastard,” Devon snarled. “Don’t touch her.”

“She’s hurt because of you, you sonofabitch,” Scott retorted.

I pushed myself painfully up off the floor, grabbing my robe
and pulling it hastily on. When I was on my feet, I pushed my hair out of my face and turned toward the two men watching me.

“Shit. You’re bleeding,” Scott said, but Devon was already there with his pocket square, dabbing at the corner of my mouth.

I took the fabric from him, my thoughts spinning frantically.

“You want to tell me what’s going on?” Devon asked me, his voice like cold steel.

Raising my gaze, I met his eyes. “I don’t want to go with you.”

Nothing changed on his face, not even a flicker of emotion. After a moment, he said, “Because of this?” He motioned to my face.

“Because of . . . a lot of things,” I said, improvising on the spot.

“You seemed of a different mind last night.”

“Last night?” Scott interrupted. “What’s he talking about, Ivy? You were with me, then him?”

I could tell by the look in Devon’s eyes that he thought I’d slept with Scott, which was exactly what I wanted.

“You’ve been gone for months,” I said, injecting some anger into my voice. “Then you just show up and tell me you’ve changed your mind? It’s too late, Devon.”

“I see,” he said, and I could hear anger creeping into his tone as well. “Is that what you call love then? I wasn’t aware your feelings were so ephemeral.”

“It was exciting, being with you,” I said stiffly. “How many women can say they’ve slept with a spy?”

“More than you’d think,” he retorted.

I couldn’t help flinching at that.

“Ivy, what’s this about?” Scott said. I glanced over to where he stood. “I thought you and Devon were through.”

“She’s leaving with me,” Devon replied, his eyes still on me.

“No, I’m not,” I said, panic flitting through me. I had to make him believe it was over. His life depended on it. Even now, I wondered if Vega was somehow listening or watching.

Scott was watching me and I was glad he could improvise so well, but I was at a loss now.

“She’s not going anywhere with you,” he said to Devon. “Especially if she doesn’t want to.” He turned back to me. “I’ll give you a few minutes to finish this, but don’t worry. He won’t take you with him if you don’t want to go.” With one last warning look at Devon, he left the room.

“This is certainly not what I was expecting,” Devon said.

“I’m with Scott now. You and I are over, Devon.” Afraid he’d see the truth in my eyes, I turned away, searching for more to say that would drive him away. “I think I got the better end of the deal. A new apartment, new clothes, jewelry. Don’t you agree?”

“You do like your luxuries.”

“Which aren’t cheap,” I reminded him. I walked to the vanity and sat on the little stool, automatically reaching for my makeup. After flipping open my powder, I brushed a light dusting across my nose.

“You should go,” I said. “There’s nothing more to say.” Eye shadow was next and I chose a color, applying to one eye, then the other. I saw in the mirror as Devon approached me from behind.

There was a tense silence for a moment and I reached for lipstick.

“After all we’ve been through, all you’ve told me . . .” He stopped, his lips pressing together in a tight line. “I said I’d change things, try to make a life with you. And now you’re saying you don’t want this? You don’t want us?”

The gritted anger in his voice, the betrayal in his eyes, made me want to cry. Instead, I swallowed my tears and forced myself to keep going.

“I’m sorry, Devon.”

“You’re sorry.”

The lipstick was a deep red slash on my too-white face.

My composure broke. “I said, I’m done!” I cried, slamming my palms flat on the vanity. He had to leave. Now. I couldn’t keep this up, couldn’t keep hurting him. “Do you want me to show you the scars on my stomach, the one on my back? What more do you want from me?”

“I don’t want anything from you. Not anymore.” And he was gone.

I felt like a knife had been embedded in my chest. This was really it. I would never see Devon again, would never know if he lived or died. He was entirely in Vega’s clutches and there wasn’t a thing I could do about it.

I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t believe the last few minutes had happened.

I’d driven him away, permanently breaking off our relationship and any future with him. Just as Vega had told me to do. I’d brought Devon back into Vega’s good graces . . . and safety.

At the cost of the man I loved and everything I’d ever wanted.

Thunder echoed outside as the sky opened up. Rain splattered hard against the window and lightning split the sky.

Devon was gone and this time . . . he wasn’t coming back.

Scott suddenly appeared in my doorway. Quickly, I wiped the tears from my cheeks.

“Thanks,” I said. “He, um, yeah, he bought it.”

Sympathy was etched on Scott’s face as he approached me and crouched down. “I’m really sorry, Ivy,” he said.

I forced a weak smile. “It’s okay. Sometimes you have to do what you have to do, right?”

Now he looked even sadder. “Right. Which is why I hope you’ll understand.”

I frowned, confused, then saw two other men step into my bedroom. I gripped Scott’s arm, afraid.

“Who are you? What do you want?” I asked. Had Vega sent
them? Would they kill me and Scott? His death would be on my hands. He wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for me.

“They’re here to take you into protective custody,” Scott said.

My gaze whipped to his. “What do you mean?”

“Ivy, you said yourself that this Vega person—her organization—not only has a deadly virus, but now the only known vaccine.” He paused. “Except for you.”

I stared at him, horrified.

You can’t just have the vaccine up and walking about now, can you.

Heinrich’s words seemed prophetic, though it wasn’t the Shadow taking me—it was my own government. And under the guise of “protecting” me.

“How could you do this to me?” I asked Scott, my voice a painful whisper.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I really am, but it’s like you said, sometimes you have to do what you have to do.” His expression was pained but resolute. Turning to the men, he nodded and they moved to flank me as he stepped away.

I shot to my feet, but they each gripped an arm. “Scott, no, please, don’t let them take me!” I struggled against them, but it was no use. Their hold was too tight.

Scott appeared in front of me again, only this time he held a needle.

“This will make things easier,” he said. “Don’t fight it, okay? We’ll protect you. I promise.”

I drew breath to scream, but a hand was clapped over my mouth and I could only watch, immobilized, as Scott pressed the needle into my flesh. His face swam in my vision and his words sounded like they were spoken underwater.

“I’m sorry, Ivy . . .”

E
PILOGUE

D
evon stood in the hallway, still stunned at all Ivy had said to him. The rage that had flooded him when he’d walked in and seen the FBI agent on top of her—kissing her, touching her—still sizzled in his veins. His hands curled into fists.

His gaze settled on the door across the hallway, and he didn’t bother knocking as he went into the apartment.

Beau glanced up and got to his feet. “Hey, man—”

Devon grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and slammed him against the wall. “Why the
bloody
hell didn’t you tell me she was fucking the FBI agent?”

Beau moved fast, pushing his hands between Devon’s arms and shoving outward, breaking Devon’s hold. In another second, he’d slipped from his position against the wall and stood behind Devon.

“What the hell, man?”

Devon had already spun around, but didn’t lunge for him again.

“Ivy just told me to sod off,” he ground out.

Beau seemed stunned. “No way. Are you shitting me?”

Throwing up his hands, Devon turned and paced a few steps away. “I walked in on her and . . . the agent.” He had a name but Devon didn’t bother trying to remember what it was.

“That’s not possible,” Beau said, shaking his head. “He just escaped the Friend Zone last night. No way has she been sleeping with him. I’d know.”

“What happened last night?”

“He kissed her
cheek
, man, that’s it. First time I’ve seen them kiss at all.”

“Where were you? I stopped by when I left her apartment and you were gone.”

“Had a job,” Beau said, heading into the kitchen and grabbing a bottle of beer from the fridge. He popped off the tab and handed it to Devon before taking another for himself. “Flight just got back a couple of hours ago.”

“The CIA working you too hard?” Devon mocked.

“Damn sight less boring than watching your lady, which you owe me for. Don’t think I won’t collect.”

“Then explain to me why she just kicked me out.”

“Did she really?”

Devon nodded, taking a long swig of the beer before replying. “Said she was over it. Over me.” Saying the words caused an actual physical pain inside his gut. Beau’s gaze was piercing, so he looked away.

“That doesn’t jive,” Beau said, shaking his head. “She’s been moping for weeks. When she has nightmares, she screams for you, not the FBI agent, and not the BFF.”

“Nightmares?” Devon asked, frowning.

“Yeah, man. She’s been having them less than at first, but still at least once a week.”

“Did she have one last night?” Maybe that’s what changed. Maybe she’d gotten scared and decided she’d had enough.

“I don’t know,” Beau said. “I haven’t checked the tapes.” He headed into one of the bedrooms he’d converted into an office and Devon followed.

Four screens were set up, all with various views from cameras placed strategically around the building. After Beau fiddled with the computer for a few moments, recorded images time-stamped from the previous night scrolled across the screens.

Both Devon and Beau watched the footage speed by, the camera view on the third screen of particular note, since it was a view of the hallway inside Ivy’s apartment.

“Wait, pause it,” Devon said, but Beau was already reaching for the mouse, having seen what Devon had.

“Who the hell is that?” Beau asked, advancing the screen frame-by-frame. A man had entered the apartment in the dead of night.

The way he moved down the hallway, right to the room where Devon knew Ivy had been sleeping, sent a chill down his spine.

He didn’t reply to Beau and they both watched in stiff silence as the man passed the kitchen, then as Ivy peeked from the kitchen, only to be attacked by the man. The fight was silent on the screen and it was only when Ivy was unconscious and slung over the man’s shoulder did Devon get a clear view of his face.

Clive.

“He’s supposed to be dead,” Devon said. “I killed him.”