Page 19 of It’s Always Been You (Always #1)

“He hasn’t returned my call yet,” Travis said grimly. And it was bugging the hell out of him. Someone told Komarov’s men exactly when and where to nab Caitlin. She was not returning to the NEST. No way in hell. He jerked his chin to prod Sam to continue.

“Two came at me. The one that went after Caitlin said he was like her.”

“What?” Travis and Nate exclaimed in unison. Fuck. Caitlin fought off a specter agent?

“I’ve never seen anything like him,” Sam added. “Or Caitlin. Hot damn, both of them moved fast. But the man seemed to be more in control of his abilities and had been consciously trying not to hurt her. I guess they needed her alive. Caitlin was just feral. It was freaky to see.”

Yes. Travis had witnessed this first hand.

Sam huffed. “The other two were not hard to fight off. When the third—their leader joined in, it became more challenging. But I still managed. ”

“You dislocated your shoulder, buddy,” Nate snorted.

“That was courtesy of Caitlin.”

For the second time during the debriefing, the two men were stunned.

“Caitlin went after you?”

“Yes. But she wasn’t herself, and I baited her,” Sam said.

“Our assailants heard the police sirens. Caitlin had already knocked her attacker down, and I had one guy unconscious as well. The other two ran. Caitlin was going after them. The car was parked in front of the elevators, so I grabbed the injector. I called her attention.”

“She came at me.” Harper closed his eyes briefly.

“I managed to evade her and come up behind her to dig the injector into her neck. She didn’t go down easily.

She bent and threw me over her shoulder.

I have no fucking idea how I ended up face planted on concrete, my right arm behind me. Well . . . here I am.”

“Fuck, man,” Nate whispered.

“Sir, I hope I did the right thing.” Sam looked at Travis. “I tried not to hurt her.”

“Hell, that’s probably how she managed to throw you,” Nate said.

Travis must have worn the scowl from hell because both men were looking at him warily.

“You did the right thing,” Travis gritted through his teeth.

It wasn’t Harper’s fault. Still, he wasn’t thrilled about anyone laying a hand on his wife.

“And I’m grateful for your quick thinking for remembering to use the anti-serum.

The sooner we get BSK’s effect out of her system, the fewer variables we’ll have to contend with in the future. ”

“I don’t understand,” Sam asked. “What exactly are we dealing with? Who could have done this to her? Is that what’s going on in the NEST?” Sam’s eyes were censuring as he stared at Travis.

“Shut it down, Harper,” Travis said icily. “I would never hurt my wife.” He was carrying enough guilt; he didn’t need someone else thinking that he had consciously put Caitlin in danger.

Sam averted his eyes, but his jaw was clenched.

Travis’s phone buzzed. Porter.

“Admiral.”

“The DNA markers indicate the Berserker serum has been flushed from her system,” Porter said.

Travis exhaled a sigh of relief. “Thank, God. Do you have any idea how Komarov’s men knew Caitlin’s schedule and location?”

“One of our technicians didn’t show up for work and has disappeared. We’re suspecting she’s the mole.”

“Fuck. You think she’s the one who tipped Komarov off?”

“Very likely.”

“How about Komarov’s men under MPD custody?”

Silence.

“Admiral?”

“The men are dead.”

“What?” A sense of foreboding gripped Travis. They better not charge Caitlin for manslaughter. It was fucking self-defense. He swallowed hard before asking, “How?”

“Cyanide capsules.”

“What the fuck? Weren’t they searched? Handcuffed?”

“The ball was dropped somewhere, Blake.”

“You fucking bet it was. So we have nothing?”

“Are you alone?”

Travis didn’t care for the admiral’s tone. “Hold on.” He nodded to Nate and Sam to watch over Caitlin and walked into his study.

“What’s going on, Sir?”

“Komarov wants a deal.”

Travis cursed. “Tell me you weren’t in contact with that asshole this entire time.” Another thought crashed into his head. “So help me, God, if you had anything to do— ”

“Calm down, Blake—”

“Don’t tell me to fucking calm down, Porter!” Travis roared into his phone, dropping all proprieties. “My wife got hurt! They fucking tried to kidnap her! How the fuck did they know to take her the day after she decrypted the files? Who else knew?”

“The technician had access to some files at the NEST.”

“Tight ship you run over there, Admiral.”

“If you’re done hurling accusations at me, Lieutenant, maybe you’d like to hear what I have to say to make sure this doesn’t happen again.”

He realized he was shaking with anger. Travis inhaled a deep calming breath.

“I’m listening.”

Alexandr Komarov eyed his sister Olga from across his wide oak table. He didn’t have to explain his actions. He was the Pakhan—the leader of their Bratva. Not even his sister could question his decisions.

“It’s final, Olga. Caitlin Kincaid will not be touched. I’ve given the admiral my word.”

“She murdered my son, Alexandr. You got your revenge against John Cooper, why can’t I?”

“Because she holds a key to a hundred million dollars. That’s why.”

“You promised me the blood of Caitlin Kincaid.”

“That’s enough!”

“No!” Olga shouted. His sister was crying. He hated tears.

“It was your dealings with the CIA that got us into this mess in the first place.”

Alexandr cursed loudly and stood up from behind his desk. His sister backed away. Good. She knew he was ruthless and would only tolerate so much from her .

“Don’t ever question how I run the Bratva, dear sister. It was your husband who led this last mission and failed to acquire Ms. Kincaid and in the process, I lost one of my specter agents.”

“Pavlo said she had a bodyguard.”

“It was my understanding he was just one person. There were four of them. Admit it, Olga, there’s no other choice. If I don’t make the deal now, Travis Blake or the CIA will keep her out of sight forever and we end up losing everything.”

“And all they want in exchange for the money is to leave Kincaid alone? When did you become so trusting, Alexandr?”

“Porter has a month to get me my money. I will keep Pavlo stateside for the duration. Ms. Kincaid fails in that time frame, all bets are off and she is a fair target again. But before that time, I’m asking you to stand down, Olga.

I know Pavlo is your lapdog. Do not think to have him defy me because I will have no problem having your husband killed. Understand?”

His sister nodded jerkily. She reluctantly backed away, turned, and left his study. He did not trust the look in her eyes. That bitch better not screw up his plans.

Porter had been reluctant to negotiate with him after Alexandr had reached out to the admiral.

Komarov had informants throughout the agency, and his spy inside the NEST was able to provide him with an update on Caitlin Kincaid’s progress.

Komarov had a copy of the files—all he needed was Ms. Kincaid to decrypt them for him.

His informant warned him it was too early.

She was not yet ready, but judging from her neural spectrometer results, she was close.

And then the admiral showed up, and Komarov feared the CIA would sequester her into a more secure facility.

He had to use one of his aces for negotiating with Porter.

Komarov gave up the name of one of their double agents that was hindering the CIA’s efforts against the Zorin Bratva.

Since Grigori Zorin’s organization was a rival, he was more than willing to help the admiral.

Porter had refused a cent from the hundred million.

Too many agents had died because of that blood money, the admiral reasoned.

Other details came to light that had influenced Komarov’s change of heart.

He was not a romantic. But learning that Caitlin Kincaid had been taken from Travis Blake by John Cooper melted some of the ice in his frozen heart.

He too had lost his wife in the endless vendetta between rival mobs.

In some strange and disturbing twist of his conscience, he wanted them to have what he had failed to have—a love ever after . . . but only if he got his money back.

Caitlin’s eyes popped open. The shades to her room were drawn, but she could tell it was morning by the sliver of light escaping the edge of the window treatment.

It had been three days since her attack.

Her recovery was different this time. She hadn’t needed as much sleep, but her appetite doubled.

A heavy arm was slung over her waist and a hard body intertwined with hers.

Travis.

He started sleeping in her bed the day she came home from the hospital.

She was too sleepy to argue with him that night when he carried her to bed.

He climbed in beside her, ignoring her mumbled protests and gathered her into his arms. His masculine scent and comforting warmth wove a cocoon of security around her.

Her body relaxed just as his arm tightened across her belly. He knew she was awake.

He moved behind her, the mattress shifting on its box springs. She could tell he had propped himself up on an elbow. Fingers threaded through her hair to lift it away from her face, warm lips pressed a kiss to her jaw.

“Morning, babe,” Travis whispered. “You hungry? ”

The growling in her stomach answered for her. Her skin flushed with embarrassment.

“I guess you are,” he chuckled. Planting another kiss on her cheek, Travis left the bed. “Come on downstairs when you’re ready. I’ll get breakfast going.”