Page 53 of Love Undercover
She grew very still, the reaction he was expecting there in her expression. But surprisingly, it didn’t bother him. Not like it usually did. Maybe because it was Sadie. Or because he knew she was trying to hide it. He could tell when she was attempting to keep a reaction in check. She was terrible at it, so it was more obvious when she did. Definitely wasn’t equipped for undercover work. And maybe that was another element of her draw. He would never question her intentions.
“My dad was in and out of prison most of my life,” he continued. “So, I don’t know, I always felt like I had something to prove. I was a straight-A student, model citizen. I volunteered; I sure as hell never got in trouble.”
She still hadn’t moved, one hand limply holding the spray bottle in her lap as she watched his face.
“I didn’t want to be him. Be associated with that life. But even a scholarship to a nice college didn’t get me out of it. Studying criminal justice, applying to the FBI. . . it followed me. My dad’s reputation, though he wasn’t some epic crime boss, was prolific enough that the director of the undercover division of the Bureau contacted me. He knew my father’s name and reputation could work in our favor for undercover work.”
Her head tipped sideways, like she was trying to figure out how he felt about it. But he wasn’t sure exactly how he felt. Not in this moment, anyway. Not with her sitting so close to him. Not when her hand moved absently to the back of his neck, slender fingers tracing lightly along his skin.
“Because it was my reality, and if it meant I could do my job and accomplish something worthwhile, I jumped in. I didn’t need a fake identity. I’d been hired so recently that it was easy for them to set it up like I’d been denied the job because of mydad’s crimes. I used that story and my father’s name to get my foot in the door, and I went in deep.”
God, did she know how good it felt to have her fingers brushing along his skin in such a casually intimate way? He felt like he was being unraveled, one tight coil at a time.
“And you’ve been doing this ever since?” Her voice was barely above a whisper.
It would be easy to forget what they were talking about, to fall into her and drown it all in the depth of feeling she stirred in him. But this was too important to omit.
“I’ve been working this particular case for a couple of years,” he said after a moment. “I had a different assignment before. I’ve established a certain reputation among these guys, so switching from one ring to another isn’t that difficult when you’re low-level.”
She bit into her full bottom lip. “What kinds of things have you had to do?”
Every part of him froze. Even his heart stopped beating for a minute. He only started breathing again because his lungs screamed in agony. She’d asked the one thing he hoped she wouldn’t. What had he done to get here? Who had he become to do the job? His gaze ran from hers.
“A lot of things I’m not proud of.” The rest of the admission refused to surface, shame holding it captive. “Lines get blurred. This kind of job forces you to let things slide because there are bigger problems to deal with, scarier people to take down.”
Miraculously, she accepted that answer. “How bad is this Zimmerman guy?”
He waited a beat, lamenting because her fingers had stopped playing with his hair, and she’d pulled back. The loss of that small touch almost devastated him, twisted his insides with regret.
He had to swallow before he could speak again. “Pretty bad. We’re worried just how deep and how far his reach goes. I don’t think your buddy Greg knew exactly what he was getting into when he took Zimmerman on.”
She flinched at the mention of her ex and shook her head, lifting the spray bottle as if to distract herself from the reminder. The level of concentration she infused into the process of treating his hand might have made him laugh if the conversation they’d just had didn’t fill his gut with lead. Holding the bottle about an inch from his knuckles, spritzing the broken skin. He tensed for it to sting, but it was cool and soothing.
She did the same to the other hand, not lifting her eyes. “Just let that soak in.”
“What is it?”
The corner of her mouth curved up. “It’s sort of like the crunchy lady version of triple antibiotic, but in spray form.”
“Ah.” Not that he totally understood, but if it worked and she felt like she was helping, he’d let her do whatever she wanted. The arnica had worked, so why not trust her with this too? With how much trust she’d placed in him, he owed her so much more.
His eyes shifted to the duffel bag on the arm of the couch behind her, and he knew he’d be asking her to extend a little more in the next few hours. He looked at his watch and felt her stiffen next to him.
“What’s next?” she asked softly.
21
Free to Flee
Chase moved the car not long after, driving slowly along the dirt lane to keep from stirring the dust and giving himself away. Sadie watched from the kitchen window to be sure, chewing the edge of her thumb. The plan was to park far enough into the trees to be hidden but close enough to his driveway for a quick exit once they knew it was clear.
Then he trekked back toward the house so they could wait until nightfall when Santiago would come. He was sure the property was being watched, and leaving right away wasn’t a gamble he wanted to take. There would be no way to know where Santiago or his spies were, and it made it easy for their enemy to follow if they left in broad daylight. He claimed to know Santiago’s style, felt confident this was the best course of action.
They ate dinner in silence, the ticking clock tapping against Sadie's mind and preventing her from forming coherent thoughts. It was all just anxiouswhat-ifs.
After dinner, while standing in the kitchen, she tracked his path as he moved through the house to make sure everything was set while she simply held herself, trying to keep the shuddering pieces of fractious emotions as together as she could.
The closer the time got, the more he morphed. He became alert, focused, distant. It made his movements seem more calculated and tactical and reminded her what his job truly was, who he always had to pretend to be.
