Page 20 of Storm Surge

She pulled in a breath. Did she have the strength to go there after learning about her mother’s death? And knowing her father’s past was filled with danger? If she ever wanted to have the chance to live—really live her life outside of the prison of her own mind—then she had to know. “Tell me what I need to do.”

Will clasped her hand and linked his fingers with hers. A spark of awareness flashed from him to her. She felt his wedding ring against her skin, but rather than a reminder of the woman he’d lost, it was a reassurance of the devotion he’d had to her.

“We could try hypnosis. Have someone regress you back in time.”

She’d read about hypnosis in the past but was skeptic. “Does it work?”

He stopped walking and faced her. “I’ve read many cases where it does, but I want you to be sure. Things could get a whole lot worse before you’re free of the past forever.”

But she wanted to try. Was sick to death of living in this state of limbo. “I have to do it, Will. I can’t keep living in the shadows.”

He brushed a strand of hair behind her ear and touched her face. “Then I can set it up.”

“You’ll be there with me?” She needed him to be.

“If you want, then yes, I’ll be there.”

The tension left her body. “Thank you.” She smiled up at him and her heart did a crazy flip as she looked into his eyes. Her breath was swept away by what she saw there, and she stepped close and touched her lips to his. Jamie had no knowledge of being kissed before, but there was something familiar about his lips, and she kissed him with a need inside that appeared as buried as her memories.

He cupped her face with both hands as the kiss deepened, and everything else just faded away. The past she couldn’t remember. The man who had lied to her most of her life. The future that was so uncertain. All that mattered was the man standing in front of her. The one who made her want to have a future. . . with him?

His hands rested on her shoulders. He ended the kiss and stepped back. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I just—” He didn’t finish.

There was no regret in her, but he seemed to regret acting impulsively. “No, it’s okay. I’m not sure why I—” She shook her head. It was as if her tongue had suddenly gotten a mind of its own. “It’s okay.” She forced a smile. “Let’s just forget about it.” But she couldn’t. Didn’t want to. There was something about Will that was as familiar and as comforting as a warm blanket on a stormy day.

???

The silence surrounding him became unnerving. He wasn’t used to so much quiet. Over the past few weeks, he’d been surrounded by activity. Never alone. He wasn’t made for the quiet.

Outside, darkness descended. The cabin could barely be considered that. One small bedroom. A living slash dining space kitchen. A bathroom. Bare essentials. He’d stopped for food and gas near the closest town, aware of people watching him with suspicion despite his disguise. He had no doubt his photo along with the rest of his team’s would be splattered across every news media around, which was why reaching the location quickly and getting out of sight was imperative.

He kept the gun close. Mostly because it gave him a sense of security. After another glance out the window proved the quiet was all that was out there, he moved to the kitchen and made himself a sandwich. He scowled at the pressed meat that served as ham and the packaged cheese that was all he’d been able to purchase at the small store in town.

This was just for a few nights. Earlier in the week he had enjoyed a meal of prime rib with the best of everything. Now this. Raising the sandwich to his mouth, the faintest of sounds outside made him pause. He listened. Nothing but quiet. His imagination? He’d been on edge for the entire trip. He grabbed a water from the fridge and moved to the living space where a woodstove burned fiercely.

So much had changed in the past few days. When they’d first begun the plan for power, he would never have imagined this outcome.

The slightest of movement outside the window had him rising. Before he had time to grab the gun from the kitchen counter, the front door slammed open. Almost simultaneously, the back door was breeched.

Men dressed in dark clothing, knit caps covering their heads, poured inside the room.

“Get your hands in the air.” One of the armed men advanced on him with a weapon pointed at his chest.

The man grabbed him by his shirt and forced him against the wall. Another person quickly secured his hands in front of him. His pockets were searched. Someone grabbed his weapon and tucked it in his jacket.

When he finally had time to think clearly, he recognized the faces of the enemy. These men and women were Strike Force members. He’d been captured. It was over for him.

“David Kincaid, you are under arrest for treason.” The man speaking was Brookes Zachary. Kincaid had read Zachary’s dossier thoroughly. He should have never made it out of D.C. alive with Victor Douglas. He wouldn’t have if it weren’t for Collins’s incompetence.

“Take a seat.” Zachary indicated the chair he’d vacated. His sandwich had landed on the floor. Someone had smashed it with their foot.

Everything moved in slow motion. He was forced into the chair. Zachary watched as his men searched the cabin and reported back to him.

“There’s no one else here.” A man Kincaid didn’t recognize confirmed what he knew already.

Zachary nodded. “Thank you, Kevin.” His attention shifted back to Kincaid. “Start talking. Where is Martin Collins?”

Kincaid stared up at him while trying to hide his shock. They had no idea where Collins was hiding. Probably the others as well. This pleased him. “How should I know? I haven’t spoken to him since I managed to escape before he killed me.” He rubbed his injured leg for emphasis.

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