Freefall. Jodie Bailey
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and the present, then a familiar voice called her name. It sliced through her fear and robbed her muscles of their readiness.
Her gaze shifted from Shane to the kitchen, and she hissed, “You’re out the door. Now. Discussion closed. I can’t do this with you.”
“Who’s that?”
Shane’s jealousy-laden voice made Cassidy straighten her shoulders. “Jackson. Maybe you saw him at my office? He’s a contractor who worked on the forward operating base during my last deployment. He’s trustworthy.” She backed two steps across the kitchen. “And he’ll tear the door down if he thinks something’s happened to me.” She tipped the flashlight beam in Shane’s direction, not one bit guilty about omitting the fact that Jackson was a good friend and nothing more. Shane could suffer with his assumptions...if he suffered at all.
Her heart missed a step when the light hit his face. It was a reaction her emotions weren’t ready for in spite of the fact he’d stood before her earlier. The intervening years had dulled his image in her mind, and the flash of his features in the light shot long-forgotten memories across her heart.
The pounding on the door grew more insistent, and she glanced over her shoulder, torn between the man she used to love and her would-be protector.
“You and I are both in danger. Until I know more, nobody can know I’m here. Please, Cassy.” His voice pleaded as his shadowed form slipped into the closet.
Cassidy stared at the door. In danger? The only danger she could see in her house right now was him. Her fingers gripped the doorknob as Jackson called for her again. She wavered, then decided Jackson would either burst in or call for reinforcements if she didn’t respond soon. She jogged toward the living room, unable to determine if anything about this bizarre evening warranted a phone call to the police.
* * *
Shane pressed his ear to the closet door and fought the urge to grip his biceps. It throbbed after the exertion of subduing Cassidy. He’d forgotten how strong she was. Worse, he’d forgotten how she felt in his arms. It had taken only a moment of contact to drive the images through his memory like they’d just been together yesterday.
He shook his head. Now was the worst time for a long drive through their distant past. If he fell into old habits with her, there’d be no way to ensure she had a future. And considering he’d fended off a knife-wielding stranger in her house tonight, both of their futures might be shorter than either of them could imagine.
Only muffled, indistinguishable voices reached his ears, so he gave up eavesdropping and dropped his forehead against the door. His eyes narrowed. Who was this “trustworthy” Jackson who felt so protective of Cassy? And, for that matter, why did he care? They’d both barricaded that door a long time ago. He didn’t love her. Wouldn’t love her. Even though touching her just now had flooded his senses with vivid reminders of touching her in the past.
He pressed his fists into the door and shook his head. When he’d married her fourteen years ago, he’d promised to protect her. Yeah, the relationship ended in front of a judge four years later, but he wasn’t the kind of man to let a promise of that magnitude die. Whether Cassy knew it or not, she needed protecting now more than ever. He should go out there right now...
His fingers unclenched. If he blew his hiding place out of some misplaced jealousy, there might not be another shot at discovering who was out to hurt her. It was just that, for all he knew, this Jackson joker had his hands all over what was going down in Cassy’s unit.
Yeah, right. That would be a hundred-yard stretch. Jackson was probably some smarmy little horn-rimmed glasses accountant type with a bald spot and allergies that would—
Footsteps, heavy ones, thumped toward him. It took a second, but he recognized the cadence of Cassy’s stride in her boots. Surely she wasn’t mad enough to throw open the door and reveal him after he’d asked her not to. He squeezed his eyes shut, body tense, and prayed. Shane had seen the face of the man who blew up that car and broke into Cassy’s house. Now she wasn’t the only one in danger. He was in this with both feet and sinking fast.
The steps passed, and a door creaked open. There was silence, then the same door closed again.
“Got it.” Cassy’s voice floated into the closet and sent a familiar tremor down his spine. “Good thing I left it in my truck or I might have dropped it when...when I tripped coming into the house.” Her footsteps slowed as she neared the closet.
Shane pressed his forehead tighter to the door, his hands flat-palming the cool wood. She was so close he could almost feel her.
She picked up speed and passed.
He’d always known he’d see her again someday. The army was too small, their jobs too specialized, to avoid certain confrontation. But of all the ways he’d imagined a reunion, this wasn’t one of them. Sure, he’d known all along it wouldn’t be roses and kittens, but he never figured he’d be hiding in her coat closet bleeding from a stab wound in his arm.
And he’d never imagined he’d feel anything other than coldness for the woman who’d thrown their marriage to the pavement and ground it under her boot heel. Shane leaned his head against the door. God, help me. I can’t fall in love with her again.
* * *
Cassidy dropped to the sofa and bent to untie her bootlaces, doing her best to act normal while her mind searched for topics that had nothing to do with explosions or Shane. He could stay in her closet all night if he wanted, but she hoped he’d slipped out when she ran to answer the door. The more distance between them, the better.
“Are you okay?” Jackson settled in beside her. “You’re all jumpy.”
His closeness in the semidarkness was disconcerting. Something in his manner was off, like he was trying too hard to comfort her, his movements and facial expressions a too-bright caricature of his usual self. “You try thinking you’re being fire-bombed on your home turf.” And then come home to find a man you never wanted to see again hiding in your closet. That’ll light up your nerve endings. “What did you need my laptop for?”
“Mine’s fried. I left it plugged in at the office, thinking I’d go back and finish some reports after dinner, but the storm had other plans. That was why I had to ditch on dinner. Lightning hit our building. Good thing all of the other computers were hooked to surge protectors. It looks like I’m the lucky one who got zapped.”
“That’s good.” She went to work on the knot in her other boot, the pressure of the day deafening her so she heard only half of Jackson’s story. Typically, his brotherly presence was comforting. Tonight, though, every word out of his mouth sliced cuts in her raw nerves.
“That’s good? What is? That my computer got fried?” His voice wagged with amusement that didn’t match the events of the day.
“No. That the others are okay.” Cassidy jerked her shoelace. The knot grew tighter instead of working loose.
A soft scrape and a thud drifted in from the kitchen, and Jackson looked up, tensed as if to spring. “Did you hear that?”
“Hear what? It was nothing.” Let it be the sound of Shane leaving her life forever. Nobody would hear her complain about that.
Jackson snatched the flashlight from the coffee table and stood. “Was the power off when you got home?”
“Yes, but—”
“And did you get a cat since I was last here?” He eased toward the door to the kitchen, voice lowered.
“No.” Cassidy rocketed off of the couch. Jackson couldn’t go in there and find Shane sneaking his way out the door. There was no telling what he’d think. “I’m sure it’s—”
“Somebody’s in your house,” he whispered as he edged toward the kitchen.
“Jackson!” Her voice held all of the authority she normally reserved for wayward privates. “There is nobody in my house.” Why