Page 7 of Forgiving His Past (Eagle’s Nest Securities #5)

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Kaamisha stared up at the tall, dark, and mouthwatering security specialist still lowered in a squat in front of where she’d been forced to sit. Her focus remained on his reaction to what she’d just said rather than his undeniably attractive face.

“I speak the truth,” she told him firmly.

Please let him believe me.

The incredulous expression on his ruggedly handsome face made it obvious that he did not.

“If you wanted my team’s help, you could’ve picked up the phone. Instead, you risked your life by putting a damn knife to my throat.”

“I know how it looks, but you don’t understand. Please, Donovan. I need you to trust me.”

“Trust you?” Donovan’s deep huff held no signs of actual humor as he pushed himself back up to his feet. “Not a chance in hell, sweetheart.”

He didn’t say another word before turning and walking away.

Well that certainly could have gone better.

With a deep sigh, she watched him return to the group of not-so-small men still gathered toward the cabin’s front. She couldn’t tell what he was saying to his teammates, however it didn’t require super-human hearing to understand their feelings toward the news Donovan had just shared.

Shock. Frustration. Utter disbelief.

A short moment later, almost as if the men of Eagle’s Nest had rehearsed it, they all simultaneously turned their heads and looked her way. Kaamisha kept herself in check, refusing to wilt like a withering flower beneath their intimidating stares.

She’d known this would be an uphill battle, at best. But they had to believe her. They had to. Or, at the very least, she needed them to listen to what she had to say.

Donovan started toward her once again, his black boots silently striking the carpet with each of his broad, purposeful steps. One by one, his teammates fell in line behind him, and within seconds, she was surrounded by five men who wanted her dead.

“Miss Dawari, like I said back at the hotel, I’m Logan?—”

“Hayes,” she finished for him. “Former leader of one of the most decorated DEVGRU teams in Navy SEAL history. And you’re Archer Nash.” Her gaze slid to the man with dark, wavy hair, a matching, trimmed beard, and dark brown eyes that studied her closely. “Demolitions expert, if I’m not mistaken.”

“You’re not.” Archer held her stare, his expression as unreadable as the others.

Shifting her focus to the man on Archer’s left, Kaamisha said, “Jason Lucas, the team’s technical analyst. Although, you typically go by ‘Lucky’. And, from what I’ve been told, you, Chase Boyer”—Kaamisha’s gaze landed on the final member of the team—“are a very talented sniper.”

“You’ve done your research.” Logan crossed his arms at his chest. “Is that supposed to impress us? ”

“I don’t need to impress you, Mr. Hayes. I just need you to hear what it is I have to say.”

“So talk.” The deep command came from Donovan, who was standing much like Logan. Arms crossed and a look of contention etched on his stone-cold face.

Kaamisha filled her lungs with a long, steely breath before releasing it in a slow and steady stream. A silent prayer was sent up as she asked for the words that would compel these men to hear drove through her mind.

Knowing this was most likely the only chance she’d have to convince them she wasn’t a murderer, she parted her lips and told them everything as she knew it.

“I grew up in Kandahar, but my parents wanted more for me than what most women achieve in that part of the world. Even when I was a teenager, they anticipated the return of another extremist Taliban rule. They saved every penny they could, and I worked twice as hard as anyone else in my classes. By some miracle, I was selected to receive a grant which allowed me to attend college in the United States.”

“You were a political science major attending CSU in Northridge on a student visa,” Lucky added. “You received a bachelor’s degree before going on to graduate school and, until four years ago, you were also in the process of becoming a bonafide American Citizen.”

Kaamisha’s chest grew tight with regret.

“Dual citizenship was always a dream of mine. I was so close, too.” She smiled sadly.

“But then I got word from my mother that my father had grown ill. Rather than enroll in the following semester’s courses, I packed up my things and returned to Afghanistan. ”

“So you could help your mother care for your father,” Chase surmised.

His tone was a bit softer, and the look in his pretty blue eyes was a touch less threatening than before.

“Yes.” She swallowed, confirming his statement.

“Unfortunately, his cancer was aggressive, and within six months, my father was dead. I stayed in Kandahar for the next three years, helping my mother. She finally convinced me that she would be fine on her own, and I made arrangements to return to my studies. Then, a week before I was scheduled to fly back to California?—”

“Your mother was shot and killed.”

Kaamisha looked up at Logan and nodded. “Suddenly, it was just me. I was all alone, and the only thing I had left of my family were the small home I where I grew up and my memories.”

A stretch of silence passed before Donovan grumbled an impatient, “This little history lesson on your life is great and all, but how about we skip to the part where you ended up in that alley?”

She couldn’t blame him or his teammates for being angry or untrusting. They had obviously been misled about her and her motives, just as she had been about them.

“A few days after my mother was killed, I returned home from the market to find a large envelope waiting for me on my kitchen table. There was no postmark. No return address. Only my name written on the front.”

“What was in the envelope?” Archer asked curtly.

“Pictures. Both surveillance and satellite. There were also several documents with large sections that had been redacted. But there was enough left exposed to reveal what the person who left it wanted me to see.”

“Which was…” Donovan prodded, his patience clearly running thin where she was concerned.

“Details of a military operation put into place by your government. There were GPS coordinates, a list of dates, and…names.”

“Whose names?”

“Yours.” She held the man’s deadly stare before looking at the other four men standing with him. “All of your names were there, along with extensive military background information on each of you.”

It was the only reason she knew so much about them. Well, that and the endless hours of research she’d attempted to do online. Of course, given who these men were…and what their jobs used to be…that hadn’t yielded nearly as much intel as she’d previously hoped.

“You’re saying someone broke into your home in Kandahar just so they could leave you an envelope full of information on us?” Lucky frowned. “Why?”

“At first, I didn’t know.” Kaamisha shrugged one of her aching shoulders.

“I thought the information had been left for me by mistake. That perhaps my name had been inadvertently switched with the actual intended recipient. I put it aside in case whoever it was returned, but three days later, a second envelope appeared. It was filled with photographs taken from the day my mother was killed.”

“Different than the others?” Archer asked curiously.

“Some were from before the shooting began,” she recalled.

“Others had been taken in the moments immediately following. They showed…” She closed her eyes against the memory of the pictures.

“I suppose I don’t have to spell it out.

You were there.” Her lids lifted as her gaze landed back on Donovan’s. “You all were.”

“Because we were under orders,” Chase offered.

The others looked at him before returning their focus back to her.

“Orders that included killing my mother?” She had to ask.

Logan confirmed this with a curt shake of his head. “Your mother had nothing to do with our op.”

He could be lying, but…

“I believe you,” Kaamisha told him truthfully, knowing it may very well be the biggest mistake of her life.

“However, someone out there has spent the past three years doing their best to make me think otherwise. Weeks, sometimes months will pass, but another envelope always appears. Each one containing more information about your SEAL unit and my mother. Documents and so-called proof that you had been targeting her for suspected terrorist activity.”

“Your mother was never a target,” Logan reiterated sharply.

“I know.” She offered him a hint of a smile. “What I do not understand is why someone would want me to think otherwise. Or…” Kaamisha blew out a heady breath. “Or why they have made it so you want to kill me.”

A moment passed before anyone spoke again. When they did, it was Donovan’s deep rumble that cut through the air’s thick silence.

“You think we’re being pitted against each other?”

Kaamisha nodded. “That’s exactly what I think.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.” Chase gave a quick shake of his head. “We have plenty of enemies, sure, but you…” He motioned toward her. “Why would someone want you dead?”

“Better question is why would they go through all the trouble of creating such an elaborate scheme?” Lucky’s striking blue gaze scanned his teammates’ before landing back onto her. “If taking you out is the goal, why not just send in a sniper to do the job and call it a day?”

“These are the same questions I have been asking myself for months,” she told them. “Why does someone out there want me dead? For that matter, do they want the six of us dead? I have no answers for these questions. Only that it is so.”

Just then, the jet dipped and bounced with a round of turbulence. The cuffs keeping her in place slid along the metal bar mounted to the wall behind her. Her wrists and arms had no choice but to move along with it.

“Please.” She stared up first at Logan and then to Donovan when the aircraft’s movements became smooth once again. “It’s been hours, and my shoulders and wrists are hurting.” A moment of embarrassment fell over her when she added a softer, “And I could really use a trip to the restroom.”

Donovan took a step forward. His imposing figure appeared far more intimidating from this position. Sliding a hand into his right front pocket, he retrieved the key to the cuffs.

He leaned down, inserting it into the tiny keyhole and turning it to the left. A soft click sounded as the metal bracelets were released.

“Thank you.” She offered the attractive man her genuine appreciation.

Kaamisha barely held back a groan of pain as she lowered her arms back down to a more natural position.

“Try anything, and you’ll be right back here for the remainder of the flight.”

“I already told you.” She rubbed the strained muscles at her shoulders before sliding her hands down to do the same at the tender areas around her wrists. “I hold no ill-will toward you and your team.”

“Yeah, well, that remains to be seen.” He stood tall before offering her one of his hands.

She hesitated to accept the man’s help.

The last time Donovan took her hand was to guide her to safety when the hotel came under attack. And despite the danger and terror that had surrounded them in that moment, Kaamisha had felt an unfamiliar jolt the second their hands had touched.

He started to lower his hand back to his side, but she quickly reached up and slid her palm against his. Like before, there was a spark of electricity that ran from the point of contact straight into her veins.

And from the look on Donovan’s gruff face as he pulled her up to her feet, the former Navy SEAL had felt it, too.