The Predator (3 page)

“It’s about Alex. I saw her again.”

Tom’s eyes went wide in the dimness. “Wow. Really? That’s a blast from the past. Where was she?”

Brandon drew in another deep breath and exhaled slowly. “I ran into her at work. She’s a senior investigator in the Child Protection Unit. I started there last night.”

“Last night? You started on a night shift? Who does that?”

Brandon offered a wry grin. “Me, I guess. I volunteered for a string of them, including tonight.”

A frown creased Tom’s forehead. “Did you know Alex works there?”

Unable to meet his brother’s worried gaze, Brandon picked up his beer and looked away. Taking a mouthful, he let the yeasty liquid slide down his throat and tried to come up with the words to explain.

Brandon hadn’t told Tom or anyone else in his family why his marriage had fallen apart. No one knew. No one, but him.

He decided on the truth. “Yes, but we’re both adults. I’m sure we can work together without drawing blood.”

The concern in Tom’s gaze didn’t waver, but he reached over and took another sip from his beer. “How was she?”

Brandon closed his eyes. A kaleidoscope of images bombarded him.

Alex
.

Her hair, still curly and dark, was longer than she used to wear it, and now hung well below her shoulders. Her compact, athletic figure looked much as it always had, still slim in the white silk blouse and navy pencil skirt she’d worn when he’d seen her.

It was only her eyes that had changed.

The hurt and anger and bewilderment that had torn at his guts the last time he’d seen her were gone—replaced by a coldness that was totally foreign and seemed utterly impenetrable. Funny how that scared him even more.

He looked across at Tom and offered a casual shrug. “She looked good, I guess. Much as she’s always looked.”

“Of all the people for you to run into. Christ, it must be four years or so since it happened?”

“Yep. Four years and three months.” He gave Tom a desultory grin that didn’t fool either of them. “The night of my twenty-eighth birthday, remember?”

“Shit, yes, of course I remember. How could I forget? I’d never seen you so lost. For months I had no idea what to say to you.”

Brandon clamped his teeth together to ward off the memories and stared unseeingly across the backyard to the in-ground swimming pool that was now covered in anticipation of the upcoming winter.

“She never even tried to stay in touch with us, you know,” Tom murmured. “I don’t know how many times Lily called her and invited her over. I mean, they were good friends. She was family. Just because it hadn’t worked out between the two of you, didn’t mean we all had to fall out.” Tom shook his head, his voice reflecting the puzzlement in his face. “It was like she didn’t want to know us anymore. She wouldn’t return any of Lily’s calls. She literally dropped out of sight.”

Tom’s lips pursed. “Eventually, we gave up. Lily told me we had to respect Alex’s right to privacy and let her deal with the breakup in her own way, even if that meant shutting us out. By then I was angry. Her behavior, ignoring us, ignoring Lily—it all seemed plain rude to me.”

Brandon heard the hurt in his brother’s voice and familiar guilt stirred inside him. He was the one who’d walked out on his marriage. It was his fault Alex had cut off his family. It was him and him alone who’d caused the hurt and confusion in his brother’s eyes. Despite the fact at the time he’d had good reasons to end his marriage, he’d regret for the rest of his life the pain he’d caused the people he loved.

It was time to make things right. He couldn’t stand by a minute longer and watch the anguish in Tom’s face and know that he had put it there. Finishing his beer quickly, he sat the empty bottle on the table and dug deep for the courage to do what had to be done.

“There’s something I need to tell you.”

Tom stared at him, Brandon’s sober tone catching his attention. “What is it?”

“My marriage breakdown wasn’t because of Alex. Well, not really. We’d been having problems for awhile, but that’s not what broke us.”

Tom leaned forward, his face serious. “You’ve never told us what happened.”

Brandon blew out his breath on a heavy sigh and nodded. “You’re right.”

Tom waited a few moments. When Brandon remained silent, he prodded, “So? Are you going to tell me?”

With a grimace, Brandon nodded again. “It’s more than time.”

CHAPTER FOUR

Alex sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly in an effort to release the tension in her belly. Little puffs of air clouded on the winter-crisp interior of her secondhand Toyota.

The squad room lights shone palely through the drawn venetians and leaked down the scarred concrete walls below. Walls that housed her husband.

Her ex-husband.

She’d spent a restless weekend at home doing her best not to think about the fact he now worked in her unit. For the most part, she’d failed and despite two days’ respite, she was tired and irritable and on edge at the thought of facing him again.

Another car pulled in behind her and she recognized Ryan’s pickup. The morning shift was gathering. A renewed flood of nervousness surged through her and she quickly pushed it away.

Brandon had just completed another night shift. It had been two days since she’d seen him. She’d barely have to acknowledge him. She’d be in his company a few minutes, at the most. Just like his first evening.

There would be a hand-over of the night’s activities, the usual banter between work mates clocking on and those clocking off and that would be it. He’d be gone. And she could get on with her job. Just like that. Easy.
Yeah, right.

Setting her jaw with determination, Alex collected her handbag and keys and climbed out of her vehicle, praying she could get this over with quickly. Squinting against the brighter light of the fluorescents after the dimness of the dawn outside, Alex kept her head down and made a beeline for her desk. It was located on the far side of the squad room. Reaching it took a lifetime.

She arrived at her destination without incident and heaved a sigh of relief. After setting her handbag on the floor near her chair, she squatted to switch on her computer.

“How was your weekend?”

Jerking upwards, Alex narrowly missed hitting her head on the desk and she cursed under her breath. Pointedly ignoring Brandon’s outstretched hand, she took a couple of paces backwards and braced herself for the impact of his eyes.

Even knowing what was coming, she wasn’t prepared for the intensity of those sexy blue orbs, or for the barrage of memories they evoked.

Her belly somersaulted. He looked tired and rumpled, but it was a sexy I-just-climbed-out-of-bed rumpled. Not at all how
she
usually looked after a twelve-hour night shift.

Irritation surged through her. He had no right looking that good. It wasn’t fair. And it wasn’t fair that she had to see him looking like that. This was
her
turf. She’d been here for years. He was the interloper, the one who didn’t belong. And he had no right smiling at her in that manner. Like they were friends.

She narrowed her eyes at him. “What are you doing here, Brandon?”

His eyebrows rose a notch at the steel in her voice. The smile faded. “Working, Alex. Same as you.”

She gritted her teeth. “That’s not what I meant and you know it. What are you doing
here
?”

He shrugged. “I’ve been knee-deep in terrorist cells for years. Decided I needed a change.” He lifted his arms in a sign of surrender and smiled disarmingly. “So, here I am.”

She wasn’t buying it and eyed him with distrust. “Why the CPU? You’ve been part of the High Tech Operations Team for years. You could have gone to any number of other departments. Children never interested you in the past.”

The barb was intentional. A shadow crossed his face. It was gone so quickly, she wondered if she’d imagined it.

“We all change. Who’s to say why we do, but it happens.” His attention moved to her desk, zeroing in on the framed photo of Sam that took pride of place near her phone. Her heart hammered.

“Cute kid. Is he yours?”

Alex swallowed and forced a reply. “Yes.”

Brandon leaned over and picked up the picture frame, studying it closely. “How old is he?”

Panic clawed at her belly, tightening her throat.
Oh, God. She’d forgotten all about the photo. What could she say?
Frantic thoughts batted the inside of her brain.

Thirty seconds passed. It felt like a lifetime. “Umm… Er…” She cleared her throat.

Brandon frowned, causing lines to mar the smooth, tanned skin of his forehead. “You don’t know?”

“Of course I know,” she snapped
,
finding her voice at last. “I was just wondering what the hell business it was of yours.”

His gaze hardened and his tone was dismissive. “You’re right. It’s none of my business. I was merely curious. I guess I didn’t realize the age of your son was a state secret.”

Heat seared her cheeks. “Don’t be ridiculous! Of course it’s not a state secret.” She looked away. “He’s two,” she muttered, slicing more than twelve months off his age. She almost choked on the lie.

Pain flashed across Brandon’s handsome features. Just as quickly, it was gone.

Guilt assailed her, but she brushed that aside. Surely she no longer had the power to hurt him? He was the one who’d done the hurting. And he’d never wanted kids. That had been the problem. Well, one of them.

“Funny, he looks older than that.”

Alex clenched her teeth together and willed Brandon to leave. She didn’t know how much more of this she could take. She’d never been a good liar and Brandon knew her better than anyone.

He shrugged at her silence, a sardonic curve to his lips. “I guess you got what you wanted, after all.” His gaze fell to her ringless fingers. “So, where’s his father?”

“We—we’re not together anymore.”

He cocked an eyebrow, a mocking glint in his eye. “I see. Well, it doesn’t look like you wasted much time.”

“Hey, Brandon? Are you coming, mate?”

Brandon’s attention was snagged by the other officer and a surge of relief weakened Alex’s knees. She caught hold of the chair in front of her.

“Yeah, thanks. I’ll be right there.” Throwing her an inscrutable look, he strode away without a backward glance.

* * *

The rhythmic sound of his feet as they pounded the pavement helped to ease some of the tension in Brandon’s shoulders as he jogged the final mile home. He pushed himself harder. His breath came in harsh pants. Sweat dripped off his forehead and soaked the front of his faded Dire Straits T-shirt.

Fatigue had sapped his energy after a long night shift, but he’d been too wired to sleep. Arriving home, he’d changed out of his work clothes and into some running gear. Ignoring the protests of his body, he’d headed back through the door and into the fresh crispness of the morning.

Opening up to Tom had been cathartic and Brandon had left his brother’s house feeling better about himself than he had in years. And more determined than ever to make things right with Alex… But ever since he’d left the squad room, anger and confusion had warred with an underlying sense of betrayal. The shock of discovering Alex had a son still hadn’t worn off. The boy looked just like her. All curly dark hair, bright, dark eyes and an impish smile.

Irritation surged through him. What the hell did he care who the boy’s father was? There was no way the child could be his. Why should he care that Alex had jumped into the cot with another man before his side of the bed had even cooled?

They were over. Had been for more than four years. The discovery that she had a son shouldn’t have affected him. He’d known she’d wanted kids—it had been a serious bone of contention between them during the last couple of years of their marriage.

Memories crowded his mind. Early on, it had been perfect—they’d been perfect. They even shared the same birthday. They’d been two young kids drunk on love with a wide open future.

But then, they’d slid over the other side of twenty-six and all of a sudden, Alex had worried about her biological clock. They’d never discussed kids. Before they married, he’d assumed she didn’t want them. She’d assumed he did. Even now, the irony wasn’t lost on him. Both of them had received a high standard of training in communications and yet their lack of that had been the reason their marriage hadn’t made the distance.

They’d both been devoted to their careers—risky, dangerous careers working undercover in some of the Australian Federal Police Force’s most dangerous operations. Not the kind of stability needed to raise a child. At least, that’s how he’d felt. He’d assumed Alex felt the same.

Until it became obvious she didn’t.

And then there had been the fatal covert operation in Jakarta.

Even now, more than four years later, the devastating memories almost overwhelmed him. The screams of his men as they were attacked in their beds. The blood. Harry, with a hole in his chest Brandon could have put his fist in.

His jaw clenched. Indirectly, his marriage had been the cause of the carnage. So, he’d come home and ended it. At the time, there had seemed to be no other choice. He’d refused to risk the safety of his men again.

It had taken him years to recover. Even now, there were moments when he was back there and it was happening all over again. He’d seen therapists until he couldn’t stand to talk about it again. He’d read the notes of the various health professionals—
Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.

It didn’t matter. No label, no diagnosis would save him. He’d forfeited his marriage. No matter how much he told himself he should have fought harder for it, it didn’t change anything.

He’d taken the easy way out. He’d given up on them with barely a fight.

The guilt of it still burned into him. He’d walked out on her the night of their twenty-eighth birthdays. They hadn’t even cut the cake.

CHAPTER FIVE

Alex stared out the window into the inky darkness from her usual spot behind her desk. She cast a look toward the regulation government-issued clock on the pale gray squad room wall and sighed. It was just after nine. Only three hours into her twelve-hour night shift.