Page 50 of Stealthy Seduction
Con shook his head. “Not definitely, but we had suspicions. We suspected you might be exposed at Times Square, and Steele mitigated the damage by getting you out of there as quickly as possible. The team used all available resources to ensure youweren’t followed. We stand together. That’s how we keep people alive.”
Izzy pushed out a breath as if releasing some of the air locked inside her. “What am I supposed to do now?”
“You’re here,” Steele said simply. “Until it’s over.”
“I can’t just be here.” Her voice gained strength. “I can’t go back to work either. I need to do something. I can’t just sit around and wait.”
Kennedy’s voice was gentle. “You said you tried journaling. Maybe you can do that again?”
“Forget the journal,” Izzy said with sudden vehemence. Her hand seemed to quiver a bit, then she clamped it into a fist, her thumb tucked in. “I’m writing abook. About my time as a hostage and how that created a snowball effect for so many people.”
Con’s mouth fell open. “Um—you were sworn to secrecy—”
“Not now, obviously,” she said quickly. “But trust me, you want me to have something productive to do with all this information.”
“Anything you write goes through me. This is classified information, Izzy. All of your friends are in jeopardy if the wrong thing leaks out.”
Steele could see her mind working, that sharp journalist’s brain trying to organize and process everything she’d just learned. The terror was still there, but it was being channeled into something else—purpose, maybe, or the familiar comfort of a story worth telling.
She looked around the room with new energy. “I need a pen. No, a laptop! I need to start getting this down while it’s fresh.”
Recognizing the look in her eyes, Steele stood. “I got this under control. Izzy, come with me.”
He led her toward the door, knowing that writing this out, reporting on it even if she was the only person to ever see it, was a way to work through the information in her own way.
He only hoped that having something to focus on besides her fear would help keep her sane until they could end this thing once and for all.
* * * * *
As Hudson led Izzy through the mansion, it was starting to look less and less like a home to her and more like a SEAL team base.
She didn’t know what changed. The walls, the expensive marble floors, the high windows that let in lots of natural light were the same. The furniture was still the minimal, military-issue equipment that was here before.
Maybe her view of what really went on here had changed. Now she saw the security cameras positioned at every corner, the reinforced door frames that couldn’t be easily kicked in, the way every piece of furniture could be moved quickly to create defensive positions.
The elegant chandeliers weren’t just beautiful but chased away all the shadows. The marble floors weren’t just luxurious—they were easy to clean blood from.
Those lazy evenings with margaritas and girl talk morphed from what felt like a sanctuary for friends to a fortress built for war.
Hudson’s grip on her hand was solid as they climbed the grand staircase leading to his room.
The place was quiet with only the sound of their feet on the marble treads. But her mind still boomed with the noises of Times Square.
First there had been the normal excitement—the woman speaking passionately about healthcare through the crackling PA system, her words barely audible over the noise of city life.
She’d even heard children laughing and squealing as they ran through the forest of adult legs, treating the whole thing like an adventure.
Then everything changed in an instant.
A LIFE FOR A LIFE.
“Izzy.” Hudson’s voice cut through the screech of dark alarm in her mind, and she jolted.
“Jesus, honey.” He pulled her through the open door into his room.
She looked around. “What’s the possibility of getting a desk moved in here, or a laptop? Also, I need notepads, pens.”
Slowly, he curled his fingers around her wrists. His eyes burned into hers with an intensity that made her body prickle. Made her want to get closer to him.
