Rundown (Curveball Book 2) (30 page)

I’ve
just seen a ghost.

Ghosts

Breanne
gasps loudly from behind me before I have a chance to study the man’s
face.  Knowing Everett can’t be far away, I glance over my
shoulder, turning the light on to her, and watch as she turns as
white as the snow on the ground.  Visually, I give her a once
over.  Her balance is off and her lower lip is trembling.  Her
mouth is gaping open, like she wants to speak, but all the air seems
to have left her lungs.  Breanne’s eyes roll back so that only
the whites are showing at the same time her knees give out.  

“
Breanne!”
I yell, dropping her phone and lunging forward just in time to catch
her.

The
scuffling of fast approaching feet echo down the hallway.  I’m
lowering Breanne and me to the ground when Everett crashes into the
room and forcefully shoves the intruder against the wall.  The
intruder groans as his fists swing towards Everett’s head.  Everett
ducks effortlessly as if the move was anticipated.  He takes the
stance of a boxer and throws a punch of his own, hooking the man in
the jaw, but the intruder quickly recovers, delivering a roundhouse
kick to the back of Everett’s head.  Everett falls to the
ground, yet manages to swing one of his legs outright in a sweeping
motion that knocks the intruder’s feet out from under him.  

Scurrying
to get the advantage, Everett tackles the intruder from the side and
pushes his face into the ground.  The darkness adds to the
confusion and the sound of approaching footsteps indicates that this
altercation is far from over.  Everett reaches behind his back
and removes his gun.  The light of Breanne’s phone is too far
from Everett and the man to clearly see what’s going on.  Just
as Everett positions his weapon at the man’s head he stops
mid-motion, holding his hands up in surrender.  Another figure
slowly emerges from the shadows with his gun aimed at Everett.  

“
What
the fuck is going on?” I shout, retreating up a few stairs
with Breanne cradled in my arms.  

“
Give
me your weapon,” a low voice grumbles.  I instantly recognize
it as Spencer’s, and I’m shocked when Everett complies.  “Slowly
stand up and walk over to the stairs.”

“
What
the hell are you doing?” Everett growls.  “Who are you
working with, you son-of-a-bitch?”

“
CIA.”

A
deafening silence permeates throughout the house
.  

“
Show
me your badge,” Everett demands.

With
the gun still pointed at Everett, Spencer reaches in his back pocket
with his other hand and produces what appears to be a wallet.  He
hands it Everett who scans it thoroughly.

“
What
about him?” Everett asks about the intruder.

“
Same.”

Everett
looks over his shoulder and glares at Spencer with a mix of contempt
and confusion.  After several minutes of this heated stare down,
Everett complies again, though on his way to the stairs he spits
blood on the intruder.  

“
Enough,”
Spencer barks.

Everett
throws his arms out to the side and walks backwards towards Breanne
and me, keeping his eyes on Spencer the entire time.

Spencer
bends down and picks up Breanne’s phone, setting it on the floor so
that the light points at the ceiling.  It illuminates the entire
entryway and part of the sitting room—including the intruder.  

“
What
the hell’s going on?”  I stammer, staring at the man for a
long time, though I recognize him immediately.  I’ve seen more
than enough pictures.  Clearly Everett has too.

Mark
Sullivan.  

Alive.
 

Fuck.
Me.

“
Start
explaining,” Everett demands.  “Now!”

No
one says a thing.

“
Goddamn
it.  Someone tell me what’s going on,” I shout.

“
Spencer?”

“
We’ll
wait until Breanne comes around,” Mark states.

What
the hell?

Instead
of backing away and letting me tend to Breanne on my own, Mark has
the gall to approach us.  I wrap my arms around her, shielding
her from Mark, though it doesn’t stop him.  

“
Don’t
come any closer,” I command.  

Mark
ignores me and pushes past Everett.  He leans down and gently
brushes the back of his hand over her forehead.  

“
Do
you have dirt in your ears?  Get your fucking hands off her.
 Now!”

Mark
stands, his jaw clenched.  “You’ve got five minutes before I
pry her from your hands.  We’ll be in the kitchen.”

As
soon as they’re out of the room, Everett’s on his phone.
“Patterson, it’s Everett.  Call me back as soon as you get
this.”  He hangs up the phone and crouches down in front of
Breanne and me.  “Fuck man.”

Breanne
groans, shifting slightly.  Her eyelids flutter and her lips
part while she whimpers my name.  A million things consume my
thoughts.  
Mark Sullivan is alive.  He’s in the CIA.
 Breanne’s husband is alive.  She’s still married and
we just got engaged.  We got engaged…tonight.  This has
to be some kind of nightmare.  

“
What
the fuck do I say to her?” I whisper to Everett.  

He
pats my shoulder and exhales loudly.  He’s at as much of a
loss as I am.

Slowly,
Breanne regains consciousness.  Her gaze travels across my face,
likely reading the anxiety smeared across it.  
This cannot be
happening.

Her
eyes knit together in concern.  “What’s wrong?”

Everett
stands.  “I’ll be in the other room.”

Breanne’s
eyes flicker to Everett as he walks away, and then back to me.
 “What’s going on?  Did I fall down the stairs or
something?” she asks.

“
Something
like that.  But I caught you.”

“
You
always do,” she muses.  I lift her hand to my lips and kiss
her knuckles. 

“
And
I always will,” I promise wearily.

I
cautiously help her sit up and position her so that she’s
straddling my legs.  When she tries to get up I tug her back
down.  “You need to sit for a minute, ok babe.”

“
Is
something else wrong?” she asks. 

I
swallow hard, nodding and refusing to make eye contact.

“
Hey,
look at me please.” 

When
I don’t, she lifts her hand until it’s in front of my face. 
“Do you see this?” she asks, flashing her engagement ring at me.
 
My heart stops.  
“You do remember that I said
yes, right?  Because it was, without a doubt, one of the
happiest moments of my life.”

I
finally make eye contact.  “Promise me that you won’t forget
that.”

“
How
could I ever forget?  Drew, what’s going on?”

“
Promise
me first.”

“
I
promise,” she asserts, forcefully holding my face with her hands. 
“Babe, nothing could make me forget how much I love you.  Now
talk.”

I
clear my throat.  
Here goes nothing.

“
What
do you remember from before you passed out?” Drew asks.

A
huge smile lights up Breanne’s face.  “I remember accepting
to marry the man of my dreams and christening our master bedroom.”

I
smile, but it quickly fades.  “After that.”

She
glances up at the ceiling, her eyes trailing down the wall, coming to
rest on the floor.  “I don’t know.  Did I trip and hit
my head?”

“
No.”

“
I
don’t remember.  You’re freaking me out.  Just tell
me.”

“
You
screamed for me.  There was someone in the house.”

Her
body tenses and she tries to scramble out of my lap. “The smoker. 
He’s here.  Oh my god, Drew.”  She fists my shirt,
panicking to get up.  “I want to leave.  Take me to the
kids, Drew.  I want to get out of here.”

“
Do
you remember who you saw?  Think, Breanne.  Who did you
see?”

“
I
couldn’t make out the face.”  She pauses.  “I thought
of Mark.  Not because of anything that happened between us,”
she adds quickly.  “I think it was the smell of the cigar.” 

I
sigh, tightening my grip on her.

“
It’s
not what you think.  Drew, I’m sor—”

“
It
wasn’t just the cigar.”  She watches me curiously.  “He’s
here.”

“
Who’s
here?”

This
is going to change everything.

“
Mark.”

In
the Dark

I
must have hit my head. 

“
Breanne,
he’s―”

“
Stop.
Just...stop.”

Slightly
disoriented, I rub my forehead in slow, circular motions.  How
do you wake yourself up when you’re not sure that you’re actually
sleeping?  What do you say when the person you love tells you
something impossible or hurtful—something life changing that you
once prayed for?  I wish I knew.

“
I
heard you. I’m trying to figure out why you’d say that.” 

Drew
looks in the direction of the kitchen where hushed voices resonate. 
Even though it’s too dark to see that far, and our view is
obstructed by a wall, I follow his gaze. 

“
Because
it’s true.”

“
That’s
impossible.”