It's Always Been You (33 page)

He just had to know.

Right?

Travis stewed for a couple of more miles until he saw the signs for the airport. He’d been confident enough that he could manage the relationship, that he had enough love for both of them. However, the tone in her voice haunted him. The light in her eyes died when she looked at him one last time and left the room.

I hate you for making me fall in love with you, for making me trust you.

She loved him.

You get on that plane, Travis. We’re done.

Why did he have to know?

What good would it do?
 

He was such a fucking idiot.
 

There was no point in dredging up a past she couldn’t even remember, that she couldn’t defend against. The only thing going to Virginia Beach would accomplish was to torture himself. But the end result was the same.
He loved her
. He was so far gone in love with her that Jase Locke didn’t factor in except to hurt his pride. And Travis knew that with Caitlin, he didn’t give a fuck about his pride.
 

He shook his head and laughed at his stupidity. Porter could screw himself with his “know all the facts” bullshit. Travis knew what was in his heart, and with sudden clarity he even felt more idiotic. Sarah
never
cheated on him. All he had to remember was how she had looked at him; the same way Caitlin was finally looking at him in a way he had craved—before he fucked up big time.

He checked his side and rearview mirrors and quickly changed lanes so he could take the next exit. She was pissed at him and needed to calm down. Besides, he needed time to find the right words to say to her and plan an epic grovel.

Travis decided to head to the BSI offices. He pulled into his designated spot and noticed a car pull up next to him. It wasn’t the vehicle he was used to seeing parked beside his in the reserved spaces. In fact, it was a car he thought had been tailing him earlier, but he’d been too caught up in his emotional turmoil to be alarmed.
 

Shit. He recognized the driver.

It was Porter’s man Crowe. Before Travis could react, he heard the plinking of glass and a sharp object pierced the side of his neck.
 

Fuck, tranq dart. He yanked it off, but it had already done its job. He was fading and slumped on the steering wheel, blasting its horn. Glass shattered and he was pulled back into his seat. He heard Crowe talking to him, but it sounded like words spoken in a vacuum. Finally, darkness claimed him.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Caitlin glared at Sam. He wouldn’t let her leave.

“Travis and I are over, Sam. You don’t have to protect me anymore.”

“Those were not my instructions, Caitlin,” Sam said firmly. Folding his arms across his chest, he leaned against the door. “I was specifically told not to let you step one foot out of the house. You can call Nate and verify my orders if you want.”

He held out his phone. She ignored him and headed back to the stairs. After crying her eyes out in her old room, she marched back to the master bedroom and grabbed her backpack, stuffing some of her old clothes into it. She was determined to leave everything that reminded her of her life with Travis. She could make it on her own. She had some American dollars that could get her by for a few months. She’d jump on a Greyhound bus and head west. Except she was leaving her heart behind. An overwhelming pressure squeezed the hollow muscle, gripping her chest in a painful vise. She had fallen in love with Travis Blake. It was a beautiful feeling until it wasn’t. She could almost taste the bitterness that consumed her.

Her own phone buzzed. By God, if it was Travis calling before he boarded the plane, she was going to hurl her phone against the wall.
 

She stared at the number; it was unknown. Intuition compelled her to answer.

“Caitlin?”

Porter.

“You fucking asshole.”

“You’ve always had a mouth on you. Go to a room where no one can hear you.”

Caitlin had no idea why she complied. Something in Porter’s voice brooked no argument. She went to their bedroom.

“What do you want?” Caitlin asked.

“What else? The coordinates.”

“Travis just told me I had three weeks to think this over.”

“Did he also tell you that I was doing this for world peace?” There was mock amusement in his tone.

“You lied to him!”

“What? About the pictures? No. Those weren’t a lie. I just didn’t tell him the whole truth.”

“What?”

“Those were taken when you and Cooper were doing undercover work.”

“And the man he’s visiting in Virginia Beach?”

Porter sighed. “That’s a wild-goose chase. We just wanted him out of the picture and to be out of reach for a while. But we had contingency plans in case he changed his mind. Worked out better, actually.”

“What do you mean?”

A text message pinged. Caitlin opened it and gasped. Travis was bound and gagged in a trunk of a car. He also looked unconscious.

“You bastard! If you hurt him—” Caitlin cried. “No, you won’t hurt him. You’re just bluffing.”

Porter sighed again. “My dear, I’m willing to unleash seven tons of weaponized plutonium to the highest bidder. You think I’d even blink about sending his fingers to you a piece at a time? If it’s any consolation, Travis changed his mind. He didn’t go to the airport and was at the BSI parking garage when my man got the jump on him.”

Caitlin felt bile rise in her throat. Why was everything going so wrong? Her words, when they came out, were a garbled whisper, “Take me.”

“Oh, we will. We just need to get rid of your guard dog.”

“Please don’t hurt Sam.”

“You’ll have to make sure he’s not a problem when we come get you.”

“How much time do I have?”

“We’ll be there in thirty minutes.”

Damn Porter. How could she figure out how to take Sam down in thirty minutes? What could she use? A rolling pin? A vase? She stared at Sam’s head. That looked like a very hard head. She seemed to be the bane of his existence. Aside from a dislocated shoulder, she was contemplating giving him a bad headache as well. She cringed as she remembered how she had raged like an idealistic bitch thinking that she was above the dirty games of the CIA. She was such a hypocrite. The price of her compliance was Travis. She now understood the delicate balance her husband was trying to maintain. It was all for her, and she couldn’t do this one thing to ease the way for him. If she’d just given Porter the coordinates, her man wouldn’t be in this predicament. And Porter had to send Travis in an emotional tailspin with the pictures, which turned out to be a manipulation yet again.
 

“Look, I know you and Travis had a fight,” Sam said gently. They were sitting around the bar area at the kitchen. She decided to pour herself a shot of tequila for liquid fortification and to numb some of her guilt. Because even if she’d made up her mind to follow Porter’s wishes, her conscience wouldn’t shut up that she had been right to withhold the coordinates. “But that man is crazy about you,” Sam continued. “Whatever he had to do was important to him.”

“Yes. But it was destructive to us,” Caitlin said. “I don’t know why he didn’t just leave well enough alone.” She looked at the clock. She didn’t have much time.

“Sam, how do you feel about me?”

Her bodyguard’s face turned wary. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve been a pain in the ass. And I hate that you got hurt protecting me.”

“It’s my job, Caitlin.”

“So, you’ll forgive me anything?”

“If you try to sneak out, I’ll be really, really pissed at you.”

The doorbell sounded.

“That must be Nate,” Caitlin said as she got off the bar stool to answer the door. Maybe she could just make a run for it. Sam yanked her behind him as he moved to the door.

“Nate has a key. He wouldn’t be ringing the doorbell.” Sam’s voice turned edgy.

Shit. Think quickly, Caitlin
. She grabbed the heavy vase.
 

She raised the object on her unsuspecting target.

“Sorry, Sam,” she whispered.
 

Her arms came down forcefully.

“C-C-aitlin . . . what . . .” Sam croaked. He was down but not out. He was sprawled in front of her, looking at her with pained, shocked eyes.

Shit
. He did have a hard head.

The doorbell rang again.

If Sam was conscious, they might not leave him alive.

Feeling wretched, she grabbed a heavier vase.
 

“Caitlin, don’t! Whatever they’re making you do—” Sam struggled to all fours.

“I need to do this.” She swung the vase this time, striking his temple with blunt force and knocked him out cold.

Thank God!

She threw open the door. Porter stood there with his man.

The admiral looked behind her.
 

“Nice job, Caitlin.”

“Go to hell!”

*****

He was in the trunk of a fucking car. Judging from the sporadic stop and go, they were probably off the interstate. Who in the fucking world would nab him and why? He was set up. Despite the pressing heat in the trunk, a sense of foreboding chilled his skin.
 

Caitlin.

They were going after her. That was why they wanted him out of the picture. Fucking Porter. That two-faced son-of-bitch had fucked with his head for the last time. He played on his weakness—Caitlin—and his one insecurity—Caitlin’s relationship with John Cooper. Travis was not like a son to him. He was a pawn and he was done being manipulated by the admiral.
 

The car was slowing down and seemed to be turning into a driveway. Two car doors slammed. The stupid fucks didn’t tie his legs. They probably didn’t want to carry him. That laziness was going to cost them. They also used a single zip tie on his wrists. He and his Navy SEAL buddies used to play games breaking out of this type of restraint.
 

He pretended to be unconscious when the goons opened the trunk.
 

“He’s still out. Fuck, wake him up, man. He’s a big motherfucker; don’t want to be hauling him up those steps. Damned near broke my back earlier.”

Yep. Lazy fucks.

They tapped him none too gently on the cheeks. Travis feigned a groan.

“He’s coming around.”

“Let’s hustle, don’t want the neighbors to see him.”

Travis was hauled out, his toes striking the concrete steps as he was dragged up the stairs. He heard a jingle of keys as a door was opened, and he was led into a house and dumped into a chair.

“Let’s call Belov and see what he wants to do with this guy.”

Interesting. Who is Belov?

They were about to wrap a rope around him when he head butted the first goon in front of him. He jumped up and kicked the chair into the second goon behind him. He quickly leapt over his bound hands to bring them to the front. The first goon had recovered and came at him. Travis spun and whipped his leg in a wide arc. His foot struck the side of the man’s head, the power of the momentum knocking his adversary unconscious. Travis used his teeth to tighten the restraint as far as it could go, then he raised his hands over his head, and with force, brought his arms down and wide, snapping the plastic ties. By this time, the second goon had recovered and raised his gun. Travis went flying low into him just as he fired and both of them crashed into a table. The gun flew out of the man’s hand.
 

Travis gripped him by his shirt and yelled, “Who sent you?”

“Don’t know!”
 

Travis smashed his fist against the assailant’s jaw.
 

“Fuck,” the man screamed. “Some guy named Belov.”

Wait. It was Crowe who he saw.

“Was it the guy who shot me?”

“Yes! He turned you over to us. That’s all we know. We’re supposed to keep you here until we hear from him.”

Travis grabbed the gun and dragged the second goon up.
 

“Tie him up.” Travis nodded to his cohort who was still out on the floor. “Including his legs.”

When he was done, Travis instructed him to sit on the chair originally intended for him.
 
After the man tied his own legs against the chair, Travis looped the second goon’s hands behind his back.

He grabbed their phones. Thankfully, he remembered Sam’s number.

“Who’s this?” A voice that was not Sam answered.

“Ed? It’s Travis? Where’s Sam?” Anxiety rippled through him.

“Aren’t you supposed to be on a flight to Virginia Beach?”

“Ed,” Travis bit off. “Sam. Is Caitlin okay?”

Silence.
Fuck!

“Caitlin’s gone. She knocked Sam out.”

Relief swept over Travis. Okay, she had a snit and took off. But, shit, she was vicious.
 

“Reece and I were on our way to your house when we saw a black sedan pull away.”

Wait. What?
The anxiety returned with a vengeance.

“Reece followed them; I stayed behind.”

“Do we know where he is?”

“Still on the move, but you can track Reece. He’s driving a BSI vehicle.”

Except he didn’t have his phone. “I got nabbed at BSI by Porter’s men.” Travis ignored Ed’s barrage of curses and continued, “I don’t know what the hell’s going on, but I’ve a feeling they used me to blackmail Caitlin. That’s the only reason why she would have left with them.”

“Makes sense.”

“I’m going to figure out where I am. Then we’ll figure out a way to follow Reece. Call him and let him know what we’ve got so far.”

“Copy that.”

Travis ended the call and exhaled deeply to focus. It was a damned struggle, but losing it right now wasn’t going to help get his girl back. And he was getting her back.
 

*****

They’d had her for two hours. She was ensconced in a room with Porter, another man she knew as Belov, and Pavlo Milekhin. Porter’s man was dressed in all-black: cargos, a tee and boots, looking every bit a commando. He also seemed to be a computer expert. They were sitting around a rickety rectangular table where several laptops were hooked up together.