Page 6 of Deadly Betrayal
Her jaw dropped. “You do? How?”
“Agha Faroukh gave it to me a few monthsbefore he died. He said, ‘If ever Azita needs help, call this man.He will come to her aid.’”
Azita stared, a feeling of unreality slippingover her. How was this possible? She’d not even been aware thatFaroukh had known that she’d treated the American soldier. Womenwere not supposed to even look at a man not of their family. He’dknown, and he’d never said a word. A pang of loneliness hit herhard. She really did miss her gentle-hearted husband. Everyoneshe’d ever cared about, except Shahram, had been taken from her. Ifthey brought Kaden here and he was hurt again, she’d never forgiveherself. And if he came here and discovered her secret, he’d neverforgive her.
“I forbid it,” she declared.
Shahram laughed. “You may be my older sister,but you cannot forbid me anything. If you want Laila saved, we mustcall this American.”
“There must be another way.”
“There isn’t.”
Save Laila or save herself. The choice wasclear. “So be it.”
Chapter 2
St. Xavier, north of Montréal, Canada
Kaden leaned back in his new leather officechair, locked his hands behind his head, and surveyed the securityteam’s new digs. “We did well, kid,” he said to Jake.
Jake shook his head and pointed to an emptycorner. “Something’s missing there.”
After considering the spot for a coupleseconds, Kaden squinted at the kid. “Like what? You don’t mean aplant or something like that, do you?”
Bright red flags appeared on Jake’s cheeks,making Kaden laugh. The kid was just too easy to tease. “Coursenot,” he said gruffly. “I meant a mini-fridge. It would fitperfectly in that corner.”
Kaden nodded approvingly. “And we wouldn’thave to walk over to the big house or to the barracks for abeer.”
The door opened, letting in a cool fallbreeze. “Did someone mention beer?” Nic Lamoureux asked. With agrin, he tossed them each a bottle.
Rising to his feet, Kaden caught his andcovered up the emotions bubbling to the surface with a loud laugh.These two men meant the world to him. He’d give his life for eitherone of them and almost had. And both men had been there for him aswell. Jake had saved his ass a few times in Afghanistan, and Nichad been one of the first to give a banged-up vet a job. A job Nichad helped him turn into a full-fledged private securitybusiness.
Kaden cleared his throat and took a sip ofhis beer. His friends seemed to sense that he had something to say.And he did. “I… uh… after my discharge from the army, I had no ideawhat to do with myself.” He indicated the room, bursting withsecurity equipment. “But I feel really good about this. About whatwe’ve built here. Anyway, thank you both.”
Nic smiled. “I didn’t do anything except giveyou office space and some start-up capital.”
“It was more than that, man. You pulled meout of a dark place when you hired me to be your bodyguard.”
“Head of security.”
“Okay.” Kaden still wasn’t used to his newtitle. But Nic’s faith in him spurred him on. “And you didn’t justgive us office space, you built us a damn building. You gave acouple of messed-up vets jobs, homes, and now a company.”
Jake raised his bottle in a toast. “To StarSecurity Services.”
Kaden and Nic echoed the toast and everyonedrank their beer. Everything was right with the world. All thepeople Kaden cared about were right here on Nic’s ranch, safe andhappy. Coming to Montréal to work for Nic was the best move he’dever made. He sank into his new chair while Jake showed Nic thefancy surveillance equipment his money had financed. A sense ofpeace settled over him. God. He couldn’t remember the last timehe’d felt so carefree.
When Kaden’s cell phone rang, blasting BonJovi’sBlaze of Glory, Nic smirked. “You’ve got the mostmorbid taste in music.”
Yeah, maybe he did. But he never wanted toforget that bullet ripping through his chest. That bullet that hadbeen heading straight for Jake. Kaden had almost gone out in hisown blaze of glory that day. As good as his life was right now,that bullet was unfinished business. And even if it was the lastthing he did, someday he’d find out who’d been behind the ambushthat had left one of his men dead and him unfit to serve. His lifehad been altered forever by that bullet.
He finished off his beer, then pressed thetalk button on his phone. “Kaden Christiansen.” Static crackled inhis ear. When he didn’t get a response, he tried again, speakingmore loudly. “Hello?”
“Hello. Is this Staff Sergeant KadenChristiansen?” asked a heavily accented voice.
“Who’s asking?”
“My name is Shahram Seraj. I am calling fromKabul.”
