Dead No More. L. R. Nicolello

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СКАЧАТЬ the counter, watching her. What trigger had he just pushed? She reached for the bottle of Merlot and poured herself another large glass. As she swirled the crimson liquid, she stared off into space. Derek studied her closely, fascinated. Where have you gone?

      “I didn’t just stumble into this line of work,” she said in a quiet voice. “I was born into it. Literally.”

      Derek’s eyebrows arched. That wasn’t what he’d expected to hear. Recruited? Yes. Born into it? No. What was this? The mob?

      “I know that sounds dramatic and all, but it’s not. Both my parents were black ops.”

      Derek nearly choked on his beer. Her parents were black ops. Well, wasn’t this pretty little story getting stranger by the second? Derek took a deep breath. No wonder he hadn’t been able to gather any intel on her earlier years; her mere existence was against protocol.

      She leaned against the opposite counter and took another sip. “George trained them. He’s been around a long time. He’s family. End of story.”

      Bullshit. The more Derek tugged at the thin golden string that was Lily Andrews, the stranger her story unraveled. “Not likely. Keep talking.”

      She wrinkled her nose. “Not sure what more there is to say. He’s like the grandfather I never knew, never had.”

      “Go on.”

      “My folks being together was frowned upon, just as it is now.”

      He grimaced. Wasn’t that the truth.

      “Envision everyone’s surprise when they not only got married, but then had me.”

      “I can only imagine.” Derek crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head, dumbfounded. When had that ever happened in the history of 67? Oh, that’s right, never...or at least that’s what they’d all been led to believe.

      Her lips curved as she peered at him over her glass. It took all of Derek’s willpower not to close the space between them and kiss her. Talk about being frowned upon. She’d probably punch him. The director would definitely track him down and shoot him.

      Derek reached for his beer instead. “So, where does Ben fit in?”

      Lily’s face softened.

      “He and my folks did a long-term undercover op together when I was about five, and shortly after they returned, he became my guardian whenever my folks were out of the country on business.” She walked to the sofa, sat and tucked her feet underneath her. “When I turned eighteen, he read me in.”

      “He read you in. Just like that?” Why would a seasoned black-ops agent read in a teenager? He eyed her as she tapped a fingernail against the side of her wineglass.

      “I blame my folks for that one.”

      Derek frowned, waited for the smile to follow her words. Silence blanketed the room. “Not following.”

      “They were gone a lot. I kept busy learning all things computer-related...and the art form of watching. I hated being left alone all the time. Hated even more when they lied to my face about where they were really going the week of my birthday. And I got mad.” She shrugged. “So I hacked into their computer.”

      Derek choked on his Guinness. “You broke into a classified computer.”

      “Yes.”

      “Lil...”

      “And then I relentlessly peppered Ben with a million-and-one questions about my folks until I pushed him to the point of breaking. He couldn’t lie to my face when I had hard evidence to support the questions.” She looked up and smiled. Damn, she was beautiful. She shrugged. “I can be persuasive at times.”

      “No doubt,” Derek replied, laughing.

      Lily wrinkled her nose again. “So like I said, I didn’t just stumble into this line of work. Ben and George made a vow to my parents. If anything happened to them, they’d watch out for me.”

      She looked up and the floor just about fell out from under Derek. Tears pooled at the edge of her eyelids. Raw emotion ripped across her face as a sad smile that never made it to her eyes tugged at her lips. “Just after my eighteen birthday, something did.”

      Her bottom lip trembled and she looked down. Without hesitating, Derek moved next to her. When she didn’t move, he reached down and rested his hand on top of hers. “Hey. Sorry for pushing. You don’t—”

      “No, no. It’s fine.” She withdrew her hand and wiped her face. “Wow. Sorry. It’s been over ten years. I thought I’d locked that away.”

      “Hey.” Derek tipped her chin up. “You never get over it, Lil. It’s what keeps us human.”

      Lily’s bottom lip trembled and she caught it in between her teeth, looking away. Derek recognized her need to shut down the emotions. It was the only way to stay sane. He would know—he’d done it himself more times than he’d care to admit. He moved back, giving her space.

      She took a deep breath. “The official report is that they lost control of their car while on the autobahn in Germany, which we both know is a load of crap. No matter how much digging I do, I can’t unlock the classified file, but I know it was a mission that went south. Ben and George, well, they kept their word, even though I was technically an adult by then, and they’ve watched out for me ever since.”

      “As a doorman and a coffee-shop owner?”

      “Ben once told me coffee beans smelled better than blood.” She raised her eyes to Derek’s. Golden flecks danced within a sea of green and brown. A sad smile pulled at her lips. “How can you argue that?”

      He reached out and gently stroked her cheek, wiping away a tear. “You can’t.”

      And he couldn’t. Combat was shit. Necessary, but shit nonetheless, and the aftermath of it was lasting. Derek would never change the path he’d walked, but it took a long time—if ever—to get the smell of blood out of his nostrils.

      It never escaped his mind.

      She stared at him for what felt like an eternity, searching. For what, Derek didn’t know. But as far as he was concerned, she could search for as long as she wanted—he had nothing to hide.

      Well...Derek swallowed hard.

      Her lips curved slightly as a small, sad laugh escaped. “No, you can’t. So you smile and support it, especially after they’ve given up so much to support you.”

      “But how did you get here?” Derek gestured to the open space. They could have plucked her penthouse loft straight from a designer magazine. It was spectacular, with its dark espresso hardwood, floor-to-ceiling white sheers draping the windows of walls and the black baby grand piano sitting in the corner.

      The gourmet kitchen opened up to the main living area and the granite that made up the kitchen island, with its deep veins of gray and specks of blue, looked as though it had been flown in from Italy. Instead of the typical backsplash, old exposed brick covered most of the kitchen wall, only adding to the “industrial meets glamour” СКАЧАТЬ