Page 36 of Kane (Ghost Ops #4)

Chapter Twenty-Five

Kane didn’t sleep well, but he didn’t expect that Daphne had either. They met in the kitchen a few minutes after five in the morning. He was pouring coffee when she walked in and then halted like a deer in headlights. She took a step back as if she intended to sneak out.

“It’s too late. I see you.”

She didn’t move for a second but then she sighed and walked in.

She was wearing a T-shirt and shorts and he resolutely did not look at her legs.

Looking at her legs would make him think of how they’d felt wrapped around him, and he definitely didn’t want to do that.

Shit was too complicated for those thoughts right now.

“I just wanted to grab some coffee. I smelled it, but I thought you’d gone for your run.”

“Today’s not a run day.”

Not to mention he needed to stick close to her now that she was a target.

Last night, after she’d told Ghost about the memory card and he’d asked a bunch of questions, they’d determined that Daphne needed to stay at the farm for the time being.

Both houses were secure, and there were three special operators on the premises.

Blaze, Chance, and Seth could be brought back if needed, but Kane, Ethan, and Ghost were enough for the moment.

Last night had been quiet, but he’d expected nothing less. Whoever had slipped the card under her door wasn’t currently planning a full frontal assault on a farm. Not yet anyway.

Kane poured coffee into a mug, added cream, and slid it toward her on the counter. She picked it up, cupping both hands around it as if she needed the warmth, and took a sip.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Silence descended between them.

“I’m sorry, Kane. For everything.”

He turned to face her, his heart and head warring. She looked vulnerable and wary. And young, though she was twenty-eight. Five years older than he’d thought she was, but she easily looked younger.

He wanted to wrap her in his arms and keep her close.

He was also angry, and he was definitely feeling betrayed that she hadn’t trusted him enough to tell him the truth.

It wasn’t the same as Hannah, he knew that.

Hannah had been his wife, committed to him, and he to her.

He had no such relationship with Daphne.

Yet it still hurt that she’d kept such a monumental truth from him. And it was worse than Hannah’s deception in at least one way. Daphne knew she was being hunted by ruthless men, and she’d kept it from everyone. Endangering them, yes. But endangering herself far more.

“You said that before,” he clipped out.

“I know, but I’m not sure I can say it enough.” She twisted the mug in her hands. “I’m still not sure this is a good idea, but I appreciate that you want to protect me. I’m not sure I deserve it though.”

His gut clenched that she could think that way. “You deserve it. Why wouldn’t you?”

“Because I’m one of them. I’m an O’Malley.” Her voice was barely more than a whisper.

The urge to pull her to him was strong. He resisted. “But are you really?”

She looked shocked. She’d told them last night that she wanted to be called Daphne, which was her middle name. He was glad because he couldn’t see her as a Josie no matter how he tried. She still did, though, down deep where it counted. This conversation was proof of it.

“Are you suggesting I’m lying?”

“Fuck no, I’m not. But if you were truly one of them, if you believed what they believe, you’d still be there.

You left, Daphne. You stole important information and you left.

Did you think they’d ever welcome you home with open arms if you wanted to go back?

Or did you know you could never return because they’d kill you if you did?

And not only that, they would presumably never stop hunting for you. You knew, and you left.”

She shook her head. “I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but I’ve been my father’s accountant for the past six years. I’ve known what kind of shit he was involved in for a long time. Maybe I finally left, but that doesn’t make me a decent person. Just means I found a line I couldn’t cross.”

He wanted to shake her. “Lines you can’t cross are important distinctions.

I’ve spent years serving my country, killing for my country when necessary, and I’ve had to make my peace with it.

But there are always lines, and if I’d ever been asked to cross one, I was prepared to face the consequences of refusing. That’s how you live with yourself.”

Her lip trembled. “You make me sound heroic. But I’m not. I haven’t managed to put a stop to anything Jackson and my father are doing. I ran, but I didn’t use what I took because I’m a coward.”

“You haven’t used it yet. But you want to, right?”

“Yes.”

“Then we’ll make it happen. Alex told you last night that we would, and today we’ll make a plan.”

Her shoulders curved over, making her smaller. “I’m scared. You don’t know what they’re capable of. This whole thing could explode like a nuclear bomb, wrecking more than just my life. I don’t want anyone else to suffer for my mistakes.”

He sighed. He couldn’t tell her what she wanted to hear.

“Sure, there’s a chance it’ll go wrong. Every single time I went into enemy territory, I had to be prepared not to come back.

Because it was always possible that our intel would be bad, or the enemy would know we were coming, or a million little hiccups that could’ve made the difference in living or dying.

And I’m not saying it never went wrong. It did.

Plenty. But I’m still here. My guys are still here.

” He tipped her chin up with a finger, forced her to meet his gaze.

“Your choice is to fight or to run. If you run, you’ll have to keep running for as long as you live. If you fight? You might just win.”

She smiled tentatively, and his heart squeezed. “You’re really good at pep talks, you know that?”

He dropped his finger from her soft skin. Touching her ignited the need inside him. He didn’t want to need her.

“Part of the service. You want something to eat?” he asked, retreating to the familiar before she wrung an emotion out of him.

“Ethan said he was going for breakfast sandwiches from Clarence this morning. Before the meeting.”

Kane scratched the back of his neck. “Yeah, forgot.”

“Kane.”

“Hmm?”

“You don’t have to push me away. I already know that what we did yesterday will never happen again.

You don’t have to be awkward. I told you I could handle meaningless sex, and I can.

Would it have been nice to keep exploring each other a bit more?

Absolutely. But I lied to you about who I was, and it wasn’t just a tiny lie but a big one.

So you aren’t interested anymore and I completely understand.

Your history has to make lying abhorrent to you, and I get that. ”

He was rooted in place. She said the words so plainly, so certainly.

He’d been feeling like he needed to keep his distance because he didn’t know what the hell he was doing anymore.

Every idea he’d ever had about not being the kind of man who had relationships started to blur at the edges when he was deep inside her, feeling more alive than he’d felt in ages.

And now that she was in danger? He would move mountains to protect her. Nobody was taking the light from those beautiful green eyes while he was still breathing. He’d take on the O’Malleys and all their enforcers. He’d never allow them to harm a hair on her pretty head.

When he was with her, he became a man who wanted the kind of love and acceptance he saw his teammates getting with their women.

For months, he’d remained cynical deep inside while watching them together, thinking it could all fall apart if the team had to deploy elsewhere, if their lives weren’t somewhat settled in Sutton’s Creek.

It could fall apart if the mission fell apart, if they failed in the goal to protect the top secret Athena Project, or if something went wrong and they became the fall guys for mission failure.

Ghost had told them in the beginning they wouldn’t get support if they were caught. The president needed deniability and if Ghost Ops went down, they went down alone. Would Emma, Rory, or Callie stick around then? Would they stand by their men, be faithful and strong, and wait?

He didn’t know the answer, but he’d started to think maybe it didn’t matter.

Maybe what mattered was the sense of belonging and love and togetherness you got when you gave yourself completely over to the relationship.

Had he really done that with Hannah? Or had her loneliness stemmed from more than his missions?

He tried to think of the young man he’d been back then, full of bravado and testosterone and a sense of purpose that came from his job.

His calling. Hannah had been second to the job for the five years they were married.

They’d talked about him leaving the military, but he’d never really wanted to. She’d known it, too.

Guilt speared into him. It was the same old guilt as always, but tinged with a new color.

The color of his own lack of faith. He’d felt guilty for not being there when she’d needed him most, for not knowing she’d been in a relationship with someone else, but he was also guilty for not wanting to change his life to make hers better.

To make their lives together better. He’d said the right words, but he hadn’t done the right thing.

Neither had she. But she wasn’t alone in bearing responsibility for what’d happened between them.

“It’s a big lie,” he agreed, dragging himself back to the present. “Not saying I don’t understand why you felt you had to keep something that big to yourself. And not saying I’m not mad about it either. Whether we’re done or not? I don’t know that yet.”

“I… That’s not what I thought you would say. Especially after, um, what you told me about your… uh….”

“Wife?” he finished because she was clearly uncomfortable saying it.

She nodded. “I realize we aren’t in a relationship or anything, and there’s no deep feeling involved, but a lie as big as mine… Well, I thought it was a dealbreaker.”

No deep feeling? Maybe not, but there was feeling. That’s what was killing him. He cared for her, and that was something he hadn’t allowed himself to do in years.

“Trust me, I’ve been thinking about it. But you’re right. We aren’t in a relationship and you didn’t promise to love me and then break that promise. That’s next level shit, and that’s not our level.”

He could see the hurt in her eyes, but what else could he say? Until he figured it out for himself, he wasn’t admitting to feeling anything for her other than the physical attraction he already felt.

She lifted her chin. “Understood.”

“Need a refill?”

She glanced down at the mug in her hands.

“Nope, I’m good. Need to get dressed anyway.

” Her smile was lopsided when she looked at him.

“For the record, up until the moment you showed me the playing card, yesterday was the best day I’ve spent in Sutton’s Creek.

And they’ve all been pretty good, because I love my life here. Just so you know.”

She turned on her heel and left him in the kitchen. He poured another cup of coffee and stared out the window at the dewy fields.

Yesterday was his best day in Sutton’s Creek, too.