Page 13 of It’s Always Been You (Always #1)

Travis emptied the rounds of his gun into the dummy target in rapid fire.

There was a large hole where the head of the FBI-Q-target paper used to be.

He ejected the magazine and slotted in another one.

He took a deep breath and resumed firing, punching in fourteen perfectly aimed bullets into the same target, eventually shredding it.

The slide of the gun pulled back automatically when the chamber emptied, but it took a couple of clicks before Travis realized this.

I’m losing it.

He lowered his gun, pointing it down range, and leaned both hands on the shelf in front of him. Nothing like a firing range to release pent-up tension. This time it wasn’t helping.

He needed sex.

Caitlin with her multi-faceted hazel eyes, luscious tits, and gorgeous ass.

She tested his control every day. But this morning was the closest he’d been to snapping.

He found her dressed in a skimpy robe over what could be a skimpier nightie, bent in front of the refrigerator raiding its contents, and presenting him with a very tempting display of her curvy, tight ass.

He was not made of stone, damn it. His cock responded readily.

His hands wanted nothing more than to grip her hips and drag her against him and rub his erection all over her.

Another part of him wanted to spin her around and lift her against the wall, wrap her legs around him, and ram his hard-as-nails dick deep inside her.

In his fantasy, she wasn’t wearing underwear either, and she was slick and ready for him. He’d pound the shit out of her.

Shit . That wasn’t helping. Sweat trickled down the side of his face.

His goggles steamed up, and the odor of lead was suddenly suffocating.

His erection was already straining against his trousers.

He needed to leave the shooting range. He quickly put his gun, extra magazines, and cartridges into his tactical bag .

He slid the strap on his shoulder and kept the body of the bag in front of his crotch as he willed the blood in his dick to flow north to his head. God knows he needed some circulation around his brain to think coherently again.

When he left the firing-range, he was surprised to see Nate waiting nonchalantly for him, leaning against a wall with his arms folded in front of his chest.

“What are you doing here?” Travis removed his ear protection and goggles. “Weren’t you due back tomorrow?”

“I was. But Emily called me last night. Said if I don’t return soon, she won’t be held liable for employer homicide.”

Travis scowled. “I wasn’t that bad.”

“Uh . . . huh,” Nate eyed him skeptically. “There’s a reason you’re doing rapid-fire shooting and killing your target boards?”

Travis grunted in irritation and marched toward the exit of the shooting facility.

“You’re my ride,” Nate said, falling in step with him.

“What? Why? Where’s your car?”

“Shephard dropped me off,” Nate said. “Wanted me to sort you out first before you head back to the office.”

“All of you just need to back off,” Travis grumbled as he bleeped the locks of the Escalade.

Nate got into the passenger side, but didn’t say anything for a while.

Travis, however, could feel the concern coming from his friend.

Nate had seen him at his worst. The early days after Sarah’s death, Travis had mostly been angry and prone to uncontrollable violence.

Nate had been the one to bail him out of jail and told him he could kiss any future in the private security sector goodbye if he couldn’t control his temper.

At that time, Travis didn’t care. Sarah’s death had dashed any hopes he had of a future.

Getting back with the SEALs had helped, for he redirected his anger and grief toward taking out terrorists with cold precision.

“I’m not even going to ask if it’s Caitlin,” Nate finally said. “ Em said she seems to be adjusting, so I don’t get your shit mood.”

Travis gave a mirthless laugh. “Oh, she’s adjusting. She gets along fine with Emily and everyone else. But around me, she’s still skittish. The other day, she fucking told me to give her some space.”

“Are you smothering her?”

“Why does everyone keep asking me that?” Travis snapped. “First the damned shrink. Then Emily. And now, you, too? What the fuck, man?”

Nate sighed, which irritated Travis more.

“I’m just saying, Trav. You’re a stranger to Caitlin,” Nate said.

“She had been a one-night stand,” Travis whispered. “That was one night that changed my life. We fell in love overnight, became inseparable. I don’t know why she’s fighting it this time around.”

“They say some brain injuries can bring about personality changes,” Nate said. “Hers was serious enough to cause permanent amnesia. You also have to consider everything that has happened. John Cooper or Jase Locke lied to her for three years.”

Travis took a sharp left turn that threw Nate against the door. His friend shot him a fulminating look, but didn’t say anything.

“Caitlin’s troubled that she may have left with Locke willingly.” Travis gritted his teeth.

“You believe that?”

“Hell, no,” Travis muttered. He guided the Escalade into an underground parking garage.

Zipping into his reserved space, he killed the engine and got out of the car.

He slammed the door close and walked a couple of steps to the front of the car and leaned back on the hood, staring at his feet. Nate came up beside him .

He glanced over to his friend and said, “I just want to move forward. I don’t care what happened in the past. I want to marry her again.

Nobody can give me a straight answer and tell me if we’re still married or not.

Her name is different. She’s not becoming Sarah Blake again.

We can always have lawyers mess with affidavits and all that.

But I want a clean start for both of us.

” Travis paused. “She’s Caitlin Kincaid.

I want her to become Caitlin Blake. My heart already knows she’s my wife.

I just need to convince hers. I’m in love with her, Nate.

I love her, and I can’t even tell her because I’m afraid she’ll run. It’s getting frustrating.”

“It’s only been two weeks.”

“You’re forgetting I lost her for three years,” Travis said roughly. “You don’t understand.”

Nate’s face drained of emotion, his expression hardened. “You’d be surprised how much I do.”

His friend turned around and strode to the bank of elevators.

Travis stood back, a bit baffled. Nate couldn’t still be hung up on Sylvie?

Travis followed his friend, resolving to be less of a self-centered prick.

Caitlin stared incredulously at the impassive man before her. “You want me to do what?”

“Break the encryption,” Benjamin Porter repeated his earlier demand.

Caitlin thought the admiral had lost his mind. She stared at the laptop before her. On its screen was a list of files.

“Those files are encrypted with a 64-bit algorithm. You have worked with advanced ciphers before—almost unbreakable ones between 156 and 256. You can certainly handle this one. ”

“You’re nuts,” Caitlin muttered. “Ever heard of the saying: It’s Greek to me?”

Porter’s jaw tightened as he regarded her. Not backing down, she continued, “Well this, Admiral, is Greek to me.”

Ben Porter looked like a man who wasn’t accustomed to being denied.

He was a high-ranking officer in the United States Navy after all, and the CIA.

She wasn’t a part of the CIA anymore, so she wasn’t about to roll over or be brought to heel.

Caitlin could have been more accommodating if Ben Porter didn’t brusquely introduce himself and commanded her directly to work to decrypt the files.

She wasn’t expecting words of sympathy for her amnesia.

Hell, for all she knew, it was still the CIA who had her and Jase hunted down.

She bristled at being told what to do. A nagging feeling told her she had always been this way.

A rebel. She still didn’t know whom to fully trust, especially with a hundred million locked in her head.

But Travis trusted this man. And she kinda liked his daughter, Beatrice.

“You don’t remember anything at all?” Porter asked.

Caitlin sighed and looked at the screen again.

The automated decryption videos that were endlessly run during her reprogramming sessions certainly helped trigger some awareness.

Her fingers were getting restless and started tapping on the table.

Finally, she sat down and said, “Whose files are these? I will need birthdays, names of spouse, children, and pets.”

Porter smiled triumphantly. He pulled a piece of paper from the front pocket of his suit jacket. “Here you go, my dear.”

Huh! So he reserved his endearments for when she complied with his wishes.

Caitlin resisted the urge to shake her head and started hammering away at the keyboard .

Two damned hours later, her head hurt, and she wasn’t freaking anywhere close to decrypting any of the files.

The admiral stayed in the room, finishing an entire pot of coffee.

He would occasionally walk to the window and look outside, but he would turn back, sit in front of her, and scroll through his smartphone.

“I can’t do it,” Caitlin said finally. She rubbed her face, before staring the admiral straight in the eyes. “Not right now. I’m not applying the algorithm right.”

“But it will come to you.”

It was more a statement rather than a question.

“Yes.”

Porter inclined his head. “Good. Take the laptop home with you and continue hacking your way through the files.”

“You’re handing out homework now?” Caitlin groused.

A ghost of a smile passed through Porter’s lips.

“I don’t get it, Admiral? What’s your stake in this?”

“Travis is like a son to me. I don’t want your problems to get him killed.”

The bluntness felt like a sucker punch. She inhaled sharply.

“Then maybe you shouldn’t have helped him get me out of the embassy.”