Whatever she was going to say, he knew from her tone that he was going to hate it. His stomach balled up with dread, the knot tightening and twisting into a painful mess. Maybe it would finally clue him in on what the hell was going on with her lately. And why she was keeping so many secrets from him—especially about those weapons. He’d wanted to confront her about the guns yesterday but had decided to hold off in an effort to see if she came to him—though he planned to find out why she’d taken them one way or another. “What?”
She leaned in closer, wrapping her arms around his waist and he savored the closeness even as he cursed himself for his body’s reaction. “I have weapons stashed in my trunk. They’re hidden but I can’t have some unknown company towing my car. We have to get them out before they take my car or we need to follow the tow truck.” He could barely hear her whispered words.
She must have retrieved them this morning from the storage place he’d followed her to yesterday. This confirmed what the pawn shop owner had told his brother, but it didn’t explain
anything
. Looked like now he got to confront her whether he wanted to or not. “Why do you have weapons?” he hissed out, barely containing his anger.
She swallowed hard enough for him to hear. “It’s not important.”
His grip around her tightened and he inhaled her exotic, tropical scent. Though he loved her, nothing could distract him from his anger. “It’s important if you want my help,” he said darkly.
Her head snapped back and she stared at him in shock. “Are you saying you won’t help me?”
Keeping his expression blank, he shrugged. “Tell me why you have them. If not, you’re on your own.” He punched back the emotions that bubbled up at the hurt expression on her face. He’d put it there and yeah, it was harsh, but he wanted fucking answers. No, he needed them. He couldn’t live like this anymore. Last night she’d slept curled up in his arms and he’d known he didn’t really have all of her yet. Would he ever? He’d given her his all. He wanted the same in return. That was what marriage was supposed to be about. “While you’re at it, why don’t you tell me why there’s a fucking suitcase in the backseat of your car?”
The idea that she would just walk away without even trying to talk to him and work out their problems burned like acid in his heart. Maybe she thought that whatever was going on in her life would make him turn his back on her. Or maybe she regretted marrying him in the first place. The possibility made him feel sick.
She paled and he felt as if someone had kicked him in the teeth. Even though he’d seen the suitcase as he’d been hurrying to see her, he’d wanted to deny it. He’d tried to tell himself that she was taking it to the shelter, but she wasn’t scheduled to work today. Now he could see the truth in her eyes. She didn’t respond, just stared at him like a deer caught in headlights.
“Are you leaving me?” he growled, resisting the urge to shout.
“Yes, but it’s not what you think.” Her voice was a whisper.
For a moment it was as if the ground shifted beneath him. His whole world was about to crumble. His wife meant everything to him. How could she not feel the same way about him? “Mara, you have no idea what I’m thinking right now.” He dropped his hands from around her, unable to touch her at the moment. It was too damn painful. The woman he loved might as well be a stranger.
She wrapped her arms around herself and he hated how damn vulnerable she looked. Okay, he hated that he still wanted to pull her into his arms and comfort her.
She seemed to gather herself a moment before speaking, and when she did her voice was unsteady. “I…used to be MI6. Someone I put away is out of prison and he’s coming for me. I need to leave to protect you and your family.”
Harrison blinked, then glanced around, trying to process her words. She’d spoken so softly but he wanted to make sure no one was within earshot. They weren’t. He stared at Mara, feeling as if he was seeing her for the first time. “MI6?” he hissed. There was no way. No way that was possible without him knowing about it.
But Mara nodded, her eyes sincere.
Holy fucking shit.
Mara perched on the edge of the loveseat in her living room. She was battling her flight response. The one telling her to run like hell. And not because of Neville Perdue, but because of her husband.
Once she’d told Harrison the truth about her background, he’d completely shut down on her. It was scary as hell. She wasn’t scared he’d hurt her or anything, but she hated being on the receiving end of such a cold, indifferent man. A man who’d seen her at her most vulnerable, who she’d let tie her up and pleasure her in countless ways.
Wrapping her arms around herself, she leaned back and tucked her legs underneath her. She might as well get comfortable. After she’d answered more questions, filled out a police report and talked to her insurance company, Harrison had bundled her into one of his work SUVs and they’d followed the tow truck he’d hired to take her car to an auto shop he used for his work vehicles. Then he’d retrieved the weapons himself.
And he hadn’t said one damn word to her the entire time. Every time she thought he might, his jaw clenched and he just growled at her. Whenever he looked at her, his dark eyes were shuttered and unreadable.
“Is she all right?” Harrison’s deep voice was soft, worried as he strode into the living room talking on his cell phone. He’d taken off his suit jacket and tie. Now all he wore were black slacks and his light blue button-down dress shirt was rolled up at the sleeves, showcasing his muscular forearms.
Swallowing hard, she looked away from his body and focused on his face. He was staring right at her, his dark eyes penetrating with just a hint of the anger she knew was most definitely simmering right under the surface. And it was all directed at her. He paused, as whoever was on the phone spoke. Then, “I’m on my way.”
Harrison ended the call then turned from her, as if he couldn’t stand to look at her. When it was clear he was leaving the room without speaking to her, she jumped up.
“Damn it, Harrison. Talk to me, please.” She couldn’t hide the note of desperation in her voice. Even if she deserved it, having him shut her out like this was too much to bear.
He laughed, the sound harsh and brittle as he turned back to face her. “Talk? About how our marriage is a fucking lie? Or about how you planned to take off after leaving the most pathetic note. Do you know how insane with worry I would have been?”
She cringed at the anger in his words because he was right. Wiping her damp palms on her jeans, she took a step toward him, but he moved back, flinching as if she’d struck him. Her throat tightened. He didn’t even want her to touch him and she couldn’t blame him. “I’m so sorry, Harrison.” She had so many things to say to him, to explain and make him understand, but knew her words would fall on deaf ears right now. He was too caught up in his own anger and she didn’t blame him. “Where are you going?”
“Something happened with Lizzy on her way home from work,” Harrison finally said after a moment of silence.
It took a moment for his words to register. Her throat tightened as panic set in. “Is she okay?”
He nodded, his expression hardening. “I’m on my way to see her now.” When Mara made a move to go with him, he shook his head.
Her own anger flared. “You might be pissed at me—and you have every right to be—but I’m going. She’s my best friend.”
He snorted. “Is everything you told her a lie too?”
Tears stung her eyes at his angry tone and words. She looked away from him, hating the way he was looking at her and hating herself for the lies she’d lived with.
“Fuck,” Harrison muttered. “Don’t cry, Mara. Fuck, fuck,
fuck
.” He shouted the last curse and turned away from her. “Come on. I have questions and you can answer them on the way or in front of Lizzy and Porter if you want.”
Swiping at her eyes, she shoved her hands in her jeans pockets and followed him through the living room into their kitchen where one of the security guys he’d brought in was sitting at the kitchen table eating a sandwich. The stocky guy stood when he saw them, but Harrison motioned for him to sit back down.
“We’re leaving. I’m taking the detail outside with us. You and the rest of the team stay put. Anything happens, call me immediately,” he snapped.
The man nodded and didn’t glance Mara’s way. She’d noticed that none of the team had looked at her since they’d arrived. Hell, they’d barely glanced at Harrison. He wasn’t acting like his normal self. He’d been abrupt and harsh with all his guys, snapping at them for no reason. She hated that he was behaving this way because of her.
After calling one of the men standing guard outside their house and telling him that she and Harrison were leaving, he got into the SUV and she followed suit.
The mood in the interior of the vehicle was just as icy as it had been inside their house. Her stomach bunched in pain. And worry for Lizzy had Mara even tenser than she had been. “What happened to Lizzy? Is she hurt?”
Oh God, what if Perdue had gotten to her?
“She wasn’t physically hurt. There was an incident, but she’s fine and safe with Porter.” His words were clipped.
She allowed a small measure of relief to slide through her veins, but before Mara could ask any more questions, he continued. “How long were you with them?” His question cut through the vehicle with quiet intensity.
She didn’t need him to specify. “Eight years.” And she’d loved her job—until her last assignment.
“Why’d you leave?”
That was a complicated question. “I…got burned out.”
He grunted, but didn’t say anything else as they drove to the high rise Lizzy now lived in with Porter.
Once Harrison’s brother buzzed them in, they entered the underground parking garage. Mara’s flat black slippers were silent against the concrete as they headed to the elevators. There were two men in black suits standing there. Her heart rate increased until she realized she recognized one of them. Of course Porter would have extra security after the scare with Lizzy. She wanted more details about what had happened, but Harrison had assured her that Lizzy wasn’t hurt. As long as that was the case, she could hold off on finding out what happened until she saw her friend. Hell, it had been clear Harrison wouldn’t answer her questions anyway. The man was like an ice statue right now.
Harrison nodded at the men then punched in a code to the elevators. It wasn’t as if Porter owned the whole building and she knew the guys downstairs couldn’t stop anyone from entering, but they would alert Porter to
anyone
using the elevators. And something told her there would be more men upstairs outside his place.
Sure enough, when they stepped into the tiled entryway outside his condo, there were two guards wearing black suits similar to the men downstairs. The door opened before they’d even reached it. Porter gave her an assessing look, his pale blue eyes not exactly angry, but wary. As the oldest brother, he was two years older than Harrison, but they looked so similar at that moment. The annoyance pulsing off both of them potent and consuming.
Her stomach dropped. Just great. Lizzy would probably hate her too. Mara didn’t make friends easily—that being an understatement—but she loved the other woman. They’d been friends for years, even before she and Porter had gotten together, and now the thought of losing her too… Mara sucked in a ragged breath, fighting more traitorous tears. God, she never cried, but it was as if she’d let the floodgates open and they refused to stay shut. Even if her friend hated her, she just had to know that she was all right and Perdue hadn’t somehow gotten to her.
Harrison cursed next to Mara, and taking her by surprise, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her tight against his lean, hard body. He was tense, but his grip was still somehow reassuring. Leaning down he pressed a surprisingly soft kiss to the top of her head. “You’re not going to your executioner,” he murmured.
He might be so angry he could barely talk to her, but the fact that he was still trying to reassure her stripped her bare. God, she didn’t deserve Harrison. Trust had never come easy to her. Hell, right before they’d gotten married Harrison had admitted his past to her and the first thing she’d thought was that he
wanted
something from her. Because everyone always had an angle. She’d wondered if he’d known about her past and had been using her. But he hadn’t been. The more time that passed, she’d known with absolute certainty that he just loved her as much as she loved him. She’d had more than one opportunity to tell him who she was, but she’d been too scared.
God, she was so broken and screwed up she couldn’t even make her marriage work. And it was definitely her fault. Maybe she was more like her mother than she thought.
She slid her arm around his waist and hugged him back, thankful for his surprising support.
Harrison and Porter’s shoes made soft thudding sounds along the tiled hallway. Mara had been here once before he’d married Lizzy and she could see a lot of improvements as they entered what had once been a bare, cold living room. She was vaguely aware of the bright throw pillows, afghans, and actual family pictures placed strategically around the retro chic room.
Lizzy stood where she’d been sitting at a long, sleek white couch. Her dark hair was pulled up in a ponytail and she was wearing one of Porter’s Marine Corps T-shirts that was probably a decade old along with yoga pants. She was clearly okay though, at least physically. Relief flooded her that Harrison had been telling the truth. Even with her internal relief, Mara automatically steeled herself for whatever reception Lizzy would give her.