Читать книгу Her Secret Service Agent - Stephanie Doyle - Страница 11

CHAPTER THREE

IT WASN’T EXACTLY the reaction she expected. She waited until he had calmed down, but noted that there were actual tears in his eyes. She didn’t think she’d ever seen him laugh so hard.

“It’s not that funny.”

“Yes. It is. You want me, of all people, to protect you?”

Vivian took a deep breath. She’d known coming here wouldn’t be easy, but she’d also known he was her best option and her first choice.

“I’m no longer entitled to Secret Service protection, and I wouldn’t want that anyway. I could hire another investigator, but that person wouldn’t know me and wouldn’t really understand the situation like you do.”

And the last time she had felt truly safe in her life was when Joe had been watching over her. She wanted that again. She was willing to sacrifice her pride to get it. It wasn’t a question that he could have forgiven her. A foolish stunt by a twenty-year-old girl who thought she was madly in love...

You were madly in love.

Regardless, she thought, her feelings had cost him his job, his future and his relationship with his father. Not to mention what that did to the rest of his family. Vivian considered what might happen when she saw him again.

That he might yell, or worse tell her to get lost in that scary soft tone he always used when he was superangry.

Laughing was unexpected.

Then suddenly he stopped. “You do recall what happened the last time you were under my protection?”

Yes, because she’d been stupid. Vivian shrugged. “I’m guessing you won’t make that mistake again. You were the best at what you did, Joe. I know that, even if no one else does.”

He huffed. “You don’t know anything about me anymore.”

Yes, it had been ten years, but back when they had been together, she had known Joe Hunt.

“I hear that Hunt Investigations has a sound reputation and that you come highly recommended. I did some research before I made the decision to find you.”

She couldn’t read his expression. Maybe pride? Then he closed it down. “Yeah, I’m aces at catching cheating spouses in the act. Just ask anyone. No marriage is safe when Joe Hunt is on the trail.”

“Surely you must work other cases.”

He stared at her hard for a moment and then shook his head. “I don’t think this is a good idea. For either of us. Find someone else.”

“There is no one else!” Vivian blurted out. She felt it. She was losing the battle. Losing him. The thought of that, after she’d had to summon all her courage to see him again, was unthinkable. “No one I trust. No one who can take away the constant feeling that I’m being watched...”

Her breathing got shallow, and she could feel the panting begin, the panic escalating.

Not in front of him. Not in front of him.

“Look at me, Viv. Eyes on me.”

Helpless to resist, she met his eyes and felt his hands on her shoulders to hold her steady.

“Deep breath.” He breathed it in with her. “Another one. Again.”

She repeated the effort until her breathing regulated. Her face, though, was flush with humiliation. She’d hated that lack of control.

“Still get them?”

“Not as much,” she said tightly. In fact she hadn’t had so much as a hiccup in years. Not until she got the first note. Then it all came flooding back.

“It’s the letters. They’re upsetting. The name... No one knew that name, Joe. It’s not possible he’s...”

“He’s dead.”

Vivian nodded. Intellectually she knew that. Three sharp blasts, then the feeling of his blood spilling out of his body and onto her legs. Warming her after she’d been so cold.

She shuddered and tried to focus on the facts. Joe knew he was dead because Joe had killed him.

“Sugarplum,” she muttered. “To this day I can’t even look at a plum in the grocery store. Pathetic I realize, but a fact.”

“Are you sure you never used the name with anyone?” he asked. “Told some reporter at some time? It would have been easy to let it slip. You were constantly being hounded for comments.”

Vivian considered it, but no, it wasn’t possible. She hadn’t been able to say the name at all. When trying to give the federal agents as much detail about the time spent as his prisoner, even thinking the name caused her to shut down completely.

It wasn’t until she’d started therapy with Nicholas that she’d finally been able to recount more of the details of her kidnapping. Something he assured her she needed to do to put it behind her.

But Nicholas wasn’t someone she necessarily wanted to remember, either. She certainly didn’t want to discuss him with Joe. For now she didn’t see the point. Carl and his agents were going to investigate the origin of the letters. Joe was simply the body man she needed to watch her back.

The less said about her time with Nicholas, the better for both of them. Only, there was the small matter of Joe not wanting to take the job.

“I know this is strange,” she began. “For both of us. I know I’m probably the last person you ever wanted to see again, and now I’m asking you for something, as well. You can say no if you hate me that much. It’s okay for you to walk away. But if any part of you remembers who we used to be before it all happened, then I’m asking as your old friend to help me.”

He lifted the remaining glass of whiskey and swallowed it in one gulp.

“Okay. You win. Let’s go.”

“Where are we going?”

“You remember how it works, Viv? Where you go I go. Which means I’ve got to check out your place.”

Right, Vivian thought. She was taking Joe back to her place.

She could handle that. At least she hoped she could.

* * *

“WHERE’S YOUR BED?”

They were back at her apartment and Joe was moving from room to room. Finally he joined her in the kitchen, and Vivian tried to think straight.

It was hard when part of her wanted to pinch herself. It was surreal to her that he was actually here with her now. Not a dream. Not a memory.

He was certainly older. Some gray was smattered throughout his dark brown hair. A beard grew tight along his jaw. Back in the day the other agents had called him Baby Face Hunt, much to his chagrin. No one could say that now.

Of course, he was still handsome. She’d never expected that to change, and she didn’t think she would ever look at Joe Hunt and think him not handsome. His eyes were still the same. Deep, dark brown and intense. Although now there were lines around the edges, like rings in a tree marking the years of his life.

And when he asked her where her bed was, she felt a pang.

Not good.

A series of thoughts ran through her head. Did he want to take her to bed? Would she let him? Were they finally going to do what she’d felt had been destined for them all those years ago? Was this the thing they could do that would finally close the door on their past and let her move on with her life?

“It’s not an invitation. Just a question,” he elaborated.

Or maybe he just wanted to know where her bed was.

Mentally, Vivian scolded herself. She knew better than to indulge those feelings.

Adolescent crush. Hero worship. Fantasy-based infatuation. These were the terms Nicholas had used to describe her feelings toward Joe. Which in many ways helped. If he hadn’t been that important to her, then it wouldn’t have hurt as much that he left her when she needed him most.

Except he had been. Important. And it had hurt.

Back then.

“I don’t have a bed.”

“From what I can tell, this is a one-bedroom apartment. That room back there is supposed to be the bedroom. All you’ve got in there is some fancy couch, a nightstand and a walk-in closet.”

“It’s a chaise lounge,” she corrected him.

“Whatever. Where do you sleep?”

“I don’t sleep much,” Vivian answered. She didn’t want to talk about it. She didn’t want him to see the ripple effects of the kidnapping in her life. She wanted him to see how much she’d changed and grown. Not how much she was still broken.

Half answers had never been enough for him, though, and she could see he was waiting for more.

Vivian shrugged. “I have insomnia.”

“Even insomniacs sleep some of the time.”

“I sleep some, yes. On the couch here. In that leather recliner behind you. Sometimes on the chaise. Whenever my body needs it. You’re not supposed to lie in a bed and not sleep. It develops bad patterns. You begin to associate the bed with not sleeping. I didn’t want to develop any long-term issues with beds in general. Sooner or later I’m going to get over this. Then I’ll need one. For now, no bed.”

“You never used to have a problem sleeping.”

Vivian gave him a look that implied he was being thick.

He nodded. “You haven’t slept in ten years? You look remarkably well, considering.”

“I sleep. I just don’t sleep in a bed.”

“Must be hell on your boyfriends,” he commented, walking past her toward a wall she had filled with framed pictures of herself and her father. She’d once stood next to dignitaries, presidents, congressmen and a queen. She wondered if Joe remembered those times. He’d been at most of those occasions with her.

Then he looked over his shoulder at her with a shitty little grin. “Then again, I guess shrinks don’t have a problem doing it on a couch.”

Wow. A direct hit. She’d been waiting for it. It had to come up sometime. His disdain over what had happened with Nicholas. It was why she’d avoided mentioning his name back at the bar.

Still, she hadn’t been prepared for how much it would hurt. Hadn’t been prepared for him to hurt her so intentionally.

Something he would do only if he hated her.

This had been a mistake, she thought. A mistake to come to him for help. She thought he could make her feel safe. He thought she had ruined his life. Of course he would want to hurt her, punish her.

“You’re right, Joe,” Vivian said calmly. “What a funny joke.”

His expression changed. Almost as if he regretted the words, but it was too late. Now she knew the truth. He really did hate her, which meant she was never going to feel safe with him.

“Vivian...”

“This isn’t going to work.”

He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked away from her. “I didn’t mean... I was just...”

“Being an ass? What? You thought reminding me about my scandal would make me laugh?”

If it was possible, Nicholas Rossi had been a bigger mistake than running away from Joe that night.

“Just like that, then? You said you needed me and now I’m expendable.”

“I can’t... I can’t...” She paused and took a deep breath, then another. She was not a weak person, she told herself firmly. She was not. “I can’t do this, Joe. I can’t fight whoever is trying to scare me and you, too. When I found you, I thought I would find...”

Safety and peace. What she’d had before with him before it all shattered. It had been a fool’s errand. A person couldn’t go back.

“Find what?” he asked.

Vivian shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. I was wrong. I’m sorry for taking you away from your afternoon bender. You can bill me for your time.”

“What about your phantom stalker?”

She smirked. “Phantom? So you don’t think he’s real? Well, then I guess I’m as safe as I can be.”

“I didn’t say that. The letters are real.”

“They are, but who is to say who sent them? Maybe I sent them to myself. We both know I’m not exactly stable,” she said, a note of hysteria in her rising tone. “Heck, I used to see a shrink, right? Of course, after I seduced him, our sessions were more physical than mental. Not really much time for talking or working out your emotional issues when you’re committing adultery!”

“Calm down, Vivian.”

A typical Joe Hunt command delivered with simplicity and authority. There was never an order he barked that she didn’t obey. Sometimes she used to put up a good fight, but in the end she always capitulated. That was then.

“No, I won’t calm down!”

He moved toward her, and she knew what he would do. Grab her shoulders, make her look him in the eyes, breathe with her. And she didn’t want that again. She didn’t want to remember he could soothe her so easily.

Why had she done this? Why had she opened herself up to all of this again? She never should have gone looking for him.

“No,” she said, backing away from him. “I don’t have to do what you say anymore. Leave. Your services are no longer required.”

For a moment he said nothing, but he didn’t move. She thought he might try to convince her she needed him. He didn’t.

“Whatever you say. You’re the boss. See you around, Viv.”

He went out the front door and closed it slowly behind him.

He’d really left.

Immediately, the atmosphere in her apartment changed from one of comfort and safety to one of emptiness. She was alone again, and she didn’t know if she could bear it.

You were alone before. You’ve been handling this on your own for weeks.

Yes, but it had been horrible. Sleep, which was such a valuable commodity to her anyway, had completely eluded her. She was jumpy and agitated and...

She made bad decisions.

Decisions like finding Joe. Thinking there could be some resolution to their past.

Thinking that...

Go get him. Tell him you need him.

Another bad idea. Only it was getting harder and harder to tell which ideas were good and which were bad.

If she went after him, she would be humiliated.

But she would have him and he would protect her. This she knew for certain.

Except part of the reason she wanted to see him again was to prove to him she had grown up. She was supposed to be an independent, self-confident and mature woman. The fact that on most days she still felt like a scared little girl didn’t matter.

Only the illusion counted. If she went running after him and begged him to come back, he would know she hadn’t changed much in the last ten years. He would see her now as everyone had seen her back then. Needy. Clinging.

If that happened, he would never fall in love with her.

Suddenly Vivian wanted to scream. She wanted to smash everything in her apartment just to hear the sound of it splintering apart. She wanted to see physical evidence of what she felt inside.

Why him?

After the scandal with Nicholas had erupted, Vivian had left DC in shame and humiliation. She found a job and a life in Seattle. Then she found a new therapist, Susan, who had actually helped her work through her issues.

She’d begun to understand her dependence on Joe. Vivian had lost her mother at twelve. The woman who had been the center of her universe. Her father had been governor of Virginia at the time. A busy man with a busy schedule, he’d given Vivian every minute he could, but it hadn’t been close to what she’d had with her mother. Not enough of what she’d needed.

Her father would be heartsick to know what it had done to her every time he left her for work. Every trip he’d needed to take. Every event he’d needed to attend, leaving her alone at night.

The horrible, overwhelming fear that when he left, he might never come back. Like her mother.

Vivian used to think that aside from her panic attacks, she’d conquered her fear fairly well.

It wasn’t until she’d met Joe that she understood she’d only been controlling it. Because it wasn’t until she had met him, the fear finally went away.

Her appointed bodyguard. Her very own security net. It had seemed crazy to her. Until the first time she’d tried to ditch him and couldn’t. They were at some pizza place not far from the White House. She wasn’t sure what had made her do it, but she’d tried to leave through the back door. Maybe to test him. Maybe to tease him. She hadn’t gotten ten feet before he was behind her on the sidewalk.

He didn’t scold her. He didn’t lecture her on the importance of her security. He simply took her back to the restaurant.

That was when she knew. He was never going to let her get into trouble. He would never leave her side.

All reasons why a girl who had lived in fear until that moment would find herself falling in love.

Adolescent crush. Hero worship. Fantasy-based infatuation.

Nicholas had made it seem that what she’d felt for Joe wasn’t real. Then, of course, he’d begun to explain to her what was real.

Vivian dropped her face into her hands, the shame and humiliation of how easily she’d been manipulated washing over her like a wave that never stopped coming. She could move past it, she could not let it affect her life, but she could never forget how gullible she’d been.

Susan had helped her deal with that, as well. She’d called out Nicholas for being an abusive monster, preying on a victim when she was at her weakest. That was true, but Vivian had to be honest with herself. She’d let Nicholas seduce her, she’d let him screw her. She’d done it to hurt Joe.

Because Joe had left her.

Eventually, she forgave herself. For everything. Susan had helped her to understand emotions more clearly. If you loved, you loved. If you hated, you hated. If you were afraid, you were afraid, and if you were sad, you were sad. Pretending to feel something else when the other feelings were in charge was a quick way to an ulcer.

So Vivian let herself be sad. She let herself cry because Joe was gone, even though she had told him to leave. Finally she picked herself up, dried her tears and thought about what came next.

She would start looking for another investigator in the morning. Perhaps a woman would be a better option. At least it was a plan.

Changing into some flannel pajamas, Vivian set her cell on the nightstand so it was close at hand. Then she reclined on the chaise lounge as the strain of the day caught up with her.

She hadn’t slept at all last night, and she was exhausted. Concentrating on taking deep, slow, even breaths, Vivian felt herself drift off. The sound of her home phone ringing from the other room penetrated, but she had no intention of risking what might be actual sleep to answer it.

Whoever it was could leave a message.