The McCullagh Inn in Maine (9 page)

Jeremy stood there,
staring at me, looking confused. What was there to be confused about? I told him to go, so he needed to leave. “What's wrong?” he finally asked.

“You tell me.” I crossed my arms, gripping my elbows hard so I wouldn't launch myself at him and take him down. “Or better yet, don't. Just go. Tell your boss you failed to con me. I saw through your lies and kicked you out,
cop
.”

He set the drinks down and walked toward me, making me stiffen. I didn't want him close to me. If he touched me…“Chels—”

“Oh, and FYI?” I picked up his phone and hurled it at him. He caught it easily, making me want to punch him even more. It would have been so much more satisfying if he hadn't. “There's an option on iPhones to make the text in a message not appear on the lock screen. Since you're trying to trick women into spilling information while undercover, you might want to use it.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I can explain.”

“Yeah, I'm sure you can,” I said sarcastically. “And I'm sure you're also convinced you can put a spin on this so I'll magically forgive you, and I don't blame you for thinking that, considering our history. Something like, ‘I was trying to save you. To help you.'”

His jaw flexed. “It's the truth.”

“Yeah. Sure it is.”

He reached for my arm, but I lurched back. “Damn it, Chels. You know me. I didn't come here to hurt you. I've been watching—”

“You're a
cop
.” I shook my head, backing away from him, my eyes burning. “What the hell, Jeremy? Why didn't you tell me?”

“Actually, I'm not a cop,” he said, dragging his hand through his hair. “I'm DEA.”

I threw my hands up. “Doesn't matter who signs your checks, you're law enforcement.”

“Look, I
am
here to help you.” He caught my hand, not letting go when I tried to tug free. His skin on mine, after finding out he'd been using me, felt wrong. “I'm not the enemy. I lo—”

“Tell me, were you laughing at how easy it was for me to believe you came back to me, after all these years, begging to be mine? Did you and all your little agent friends laugh at me when I kissed you in your motel room? Did you strategize together about how to pump me for information? Did they give you shit when you freaking
begged
me to let you in, to trust you? I bet that was a laugh. And when you got me to have sex with you again? Well, that must've been a real bonus.”

His cheeks flushed. “Damn it, Chels. You know I wouldn't do that to you, or use you like that.”

“Do I?”

“Damn right you do. I was protecting you even though you refused to tell me what happened between you and Richard. Even though you lied to me, time and time again, I stood here, watching your back—”

I laughed. Legit laughed. “You're going to try to lecture me about lying? Seriously?”

“Yes.” He grabbed my shoulders gently, his touch burning right through my T-shirt. “And when your brother was attacked, I made sure he had a guard, that he had protection, even though you wouldn't tell me a damn thing about what happened or what you know. Why else would a mugging warrant police protection?”

“Well, that was all for nothing,” I said, jerking free. “Why bother pushing me to open up, to reveal all my secrets in the first place? You already know what I did, don't you?”

He remained silent, not bothering to lie again. That was all the answer I needed.

“That's what I thought. You know the truth. I killed a man. I shot him where he stood, and I watched the blood soak the carpet as his body went limp.” I pointed to the door, trembling slightly. “Get out before I kill you, too.”

He reared back,
staring at me like I'd punched him in the gut. Which I guess I had, in a way. I'd threatened to kill him—not that I actually would. “Chels—”

“You have no idea how angry I am right now. I killed Richard, is that what you want to hear? I pulled the trigger, and he stopped breathing in front of me. And you know what? I'm not sorry. Things were great at first, but he became an abusive bastard. When I found out he was working with a cartel, compromising cases so their guys would walk, that was the last straw. I was going to leave him quietly, but he came at me and I grabbed the gun, and I—” I broke off, choking back a sob, hating myself for that sign of weakness but unable to take it back. “So you see, bad things happen to people who lie to me.”

He swallowed hard, stepping closer despite my threats. “Chelsea, please, let me—”

“You know what the worst part was? I was going to tell you tonight. Tell you everything. I wanted to be honest because I…” The fire of rage inside me transformed into the cold of heartbreak. I wasn't sure I'd ever be warm again. “I was going to be honest. And you've been lying to me, playing me, all this time.”

He shook his head, taking another step toward me. “Chels, you have to understand, the DEA had you flagged as a person of interest. Richard had been under investigation and they weren't sure how complicit you were. After the shooting, I got involved to
protect
you. I convinced my superiors that our preexisting relationship made me the perfect person to send in, but it was always my intention to get you clear of this.”

“Right.”
I laughed, but it wasn't a laugh. Not really. I'd obviously been nothing but a damsel in distress to him. Wasn't he surprised to find himself defending the dragon? “And the part about missing me? Wanting me to be with you?”

“True,” he said quickly. “I did miss you. A lot.”

“Yeah. Sure.” I rubbed my face. My eyes burned and my throat ached, unfamiliar sensations for me. “You're a DEA agent, Jeremy. I was a ‘person of interest.' You knew where I was. You could've ridden your white horse down to Miami at any time.”

“I did look for you, but you'd covered your tracks too well. By the time I found you…” He shook his head, reaching for me again. I shifted back, not letting him touch me. Those days were over.
“Chelsea.”

“Let me guess. You're up for some sort of promotion, once this is over?” I asked slowly. “If you arrest me or I help you get the bad guy?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, shifting uncomfortably. That gave me my answer.

“You really think I'm doing this because it'll benefit me? No, I'm doing it for the seventeen-year-old Long Island girl who overdosed on heroin. For the mother of two in Philadelphia who died when her car was T-boned by a driver high on cocaine. For the family who got caught in the crossfire of a drug war in Boston.” His shoulders were hard, and his entire body was tense. I couldn't help but wonder if
I
was his enemy now. “We've been investigating these guys for years, working with local PDs as they scoop up the small fish, but we're after the head. The leader of the cartel has a brother who's a total mess. The only thing he's good at is taking care of people who become problems. When you took out Richard, you became a problem.”

“You're hoping that he's such a disaster that he'll turn on his brother. So, what, you leaked my general whereabouts and used me as bait for this asshole, never thinking I might just want to keep my head down and live my life? You put my brother in danger? When exactly were you going to arrest the guy? Before or after he tortured me, too?” I rubbed my throbbing temples.

Jeremy reacted like I'd stabbed him, his body jerking slightly. His hand reached out to me. “I told you, I came here to protect you. I would never let
anyone
hurt you.”

I pointedly ignored his hand, and he let it drop to the back of a floral upholstered loveseat. “Should I presume that my arrest would soon follow Javi's? Or is the warrant already waiting, just in case I discovered the truth?”

He pressed his lips together. “I've been authorized to offer you a deal—”

“What was the plan for the inn?” I asked, cutting him off, my voice hard. Frozen solid. “Was it going to be seized? Or would you let me make you a signatory, keep it as part of your cover, and use it as some secret DEA safe house?”

Jeremy went to answer and then paused for a moment. “Wait a second. How did you know Javi's name?”

Oh, look, the DEA agent was back.

I turned away, staring at the divots in the wall where Jeremy had plastered the bullet holes. “I'm the daughter of a con man, Jeremy. Dad always said to have either an exit strategy or a will. I couldn't just break up with Richard; his pride would never allow that. I was preparing to blackmail him in exchange for my freedom. It was easy to gather the proof I needed, once I knew where to look for it, because he never saw me as a viable threat. Sometimes he even took meetings at the house. So, yes, I know Javi, and Gabriel, and David. I know them all. But more importantly, I know where the money goes.”

Jeremy moved around that loveseat fast. He stood in front of me, catching himself before he grabbed my shoulders. “Chels, this is huge. With this proof, we could arrest them all now. You and Paul would be safe.”

I shifted my head slightly so I could continue staring at the wall. “Funnily enough, I wasn't that concerned with my own safety when I made the deal with Homeland Security. I'll turn over the evidence for immunity and Witness Protection.
I
was trying to protect
you
.”

He instinctively reached for his pocket, as if to go for his phone. “You made a deal with Homeland? I wasn't informed.”

“So much for interagency cooperation.” I walked over to the front door and finally met his gaze. “Get out.”

The last time I saw that expression on his face, it was after Rocco, his dog, passed away. I refused to be moved. “We can figure something out. Witness Protection doesn't have to be the end of us.”

“It wasn't. We ended when you decided to play me instead of telling me the truth and asking for my help. I tried really hard to live in your world, Jeremy, to do what's right, but in the end, all you saw was a criminal,” I said, my voice cracking on the last word. More weakness. And it was all Jeremy fricking Holland's fault. “I thought you were one of the good guys. Thanks for proving to me that good guys don't just finish last—they don't exist at all.”

I knew my words hit home for Jeremy because he rubbed his chest right over his heart. “I'm sorry. I never wanted to hurt you.”

“Yeah. That's what they all say.” Opening the door, I met his eyes again, forcing my chin up. “Get. Out.”

Jeremy headed for the door, looking like a lost puppy being sent back out into the rain. He stopped just outside. “This isn't over. I'm going to go find out the particulars of your deal. I'll be back tomorrow. I let you run from me once, but that's not happening again.”

There it was again. That stubborn determination to win me back. It wouldn't work this time. He'd done me dirty, and I wouldn't forget it. “I'm not running anywhere, Agent Holland. Like the O'Kane family motto, I'm gonna keep moving forward. Without you.” And then I slammed the door in his face. “Asshole.”

I waited till I heard his car start, till the headlights receded down the driveway, and till I felt his absence down to my soul. Then, and only then, I let myself slide down the door into a sitting position. My eyes burned but they were dry. The
one
man I thought who wouldn't break me, who wouldn't
use
me, had done exactly that.

Go figure.

I stared out into the living room, at the half-finished promise of what the inn could be. A respite from stress, an oasis of calm, a sanctuary, never fulfilled. I should have known better. Every time I tried to do something good, it went to shit. I was done fighting, done trying to be better. Being something I wasn't.

I was
me
.

And nothing would ever change that.

I went to
the hospital and told Paul everything, explaining Jeremy's deception. He was not pleased in the least, but he promised to make sure that, before we left town, the inn would be taken care of for me through some legit contacts of his. And unlike
some
people in my life, when my brother made a promise, he kept it. He also promised to have his people make Jeremy's life a living hell, but I told him not to bother. Jeremy had just been doing his job. If he'd really cared about me like he'd claimed, he would've approached the situation differently.

Maybe he'd just never known me at all.

Either way, he didn't deserve my brother breathing down his neck. Witness Protection might make Paul legit, but he would still have friends in low places.

Then I went back to the inn to say good-bye for the last time. The work on the living room was almost finished. The furniture I'd picked out would be delivered Monday, and Paul had promised to have his guy place it according to the floor plan I'd drawn on a napkin, using the fireplace as a focal point. The antique white fireplace stood out against the pale walls, and the hardwood floors shined with the fresh coats of varnish we'd put on after Jeremy had sanded them. The sun shone in the windows, reflecting off the shiny floor, and the room was as bright and inviting as I'd imagined it would be.

I swallowed hard at the ache in my chest that had never fully gone away since the other night. I headed for the kitchen, taking in the detailing on the moldings. Now that the DEA knew everything, things had started to move along quickly. However, the closer I got to the kitchen, the more cautious I grew. The air smelled like spaghetti sauce, and soft classical music played from my bedroom. I hadn't made any sauce, or left the radio on.…

“Jeremy?” I called out, my heart racing.

Knowing he was here, waiting for me to come home as if nothing had happened, made me equal parts nervous and angry. When I found him, I was gonna kick his ass. I knew that with one look at him, the chemistry between us would roar back to life, but I'd be strong and resist him this time.

No one answered as I entered the kitchen, staring at the sauce. It bubbled slowly, painting the glass lid with little spurts of red. There was a bouquet of red roses on the counter, and the combination of the red sauce and the red roses set me on edge. Jeremy knew I didn't like roses any longer, and, despite his terrible lies, he'd never remind me of the abusive dead ex-boyfriend I'd killed.

I made my way to the front door, walking slowly, heart pounding with fear. Even though it might seem crazy to think that Javi had broken into my home to make spaghetti sauce and turn on Mozart…I knew, I just
knew,
that something was wrong. I'd never doubted my instincts before, and since they'd saved my life more than once, I wasn't about to start now.

I opened the drawer with my gun inside it slowly, lifting the Glock cautiously as I made my way up the stairs. I could leave, call Jeremy for help, but I was done leaning on other people for support. I'd taken care of Richard all on my own—I could handle Javi, too. Each step I took brought me closer to whatever waited for me up there. Whether it was Javi or Jeremy, there was going to be a fight.

The second-to-last step creaked as I put my weight on it, and I froze. The gun wavered, and I tightened my grip on it, trying to talk myself down. I was probably overreacting. Maybe it was Jeremy in my bedroom, putting together some grand romantic gesture, like sprinkling flower petals on my bed. Maybe this would all be a bad daydream.

There was no way in hell I'd call out his name again…just in case. I crept around the corner of the hallway, keeping an eye out for movement from any other rooms along the way. I passed Jeremy's, which was empty, and sucked in a deep breath at the entrance to my room. The door was cracked open, and I saw a brown-haired male, his head lowered as he sat on my bed. The very sight sent a chill down my spine.

Because that hair…I knew it.

I'd run my fingers through it, once upon a time.

Biting down on my lip, I stepped forward, my knuckles aching and my heart pounding. My weapon wobbled in concert with my trembling body, as I nudged the door open with my foot. It creaked and the man lifted his head, locking eyes with me.

My gaze met brown eyes. Dark, soulless ones. His jaw was hard and unbreakable.

“No,” I whispered, staring with horror at the man on my bed as my stomach turned. “You're…you're…”

“Dead? Sorry to disappoint.” Richard gave me a small smile. One I recognized all too well. He usually smiled like that before he “corrected me.”

No. No, no, no,
hell, no
. He was supposed to be
dead
. I'd killed him. Watched him hit the floor, not moving, as blood sprayed from his chest.
This couldn't be…

Shaking my head, I aimed the gun at his chest and did the only thing I could do, given the situation. The only thing I could think of that might save my ass.

I pulled the trigger again.