Filthy hot two complete.., p.26
Filthy Hot: Two Complete Steamy Romance Novels, page 26
I picked up his phone, swiped to the home screen, and looked through his call history. I realized that this was probably a waste of time. The call would have happened months ago, Udall might have deleted it, and McDowell probably had used a pre-paid phone anyway, so I gave up looking for the number.
I had to decide what to do with Udall at that point, so I stood there looking through his phone. I’m not sure what I had expected to find in the “Pictures” app, but I touched it anyway.
What I found was something I hadn’t expected even though I had run through all kinds of scenarios about how this would play out.
There were hundreds of photos, many of them appeared to be pictures taken from the Internet. Pictures of women and young girls in various stages of undress and some engaging in sex acts.
The most recent pictures, the ones at the top, contained things I recognized.
Catherine’s kitchen. Catherine’s den. Catherine’s bedroom.
Pictures of her underwear drawer. Pictures of Udall holding her underwear. Even so-called selfies of him holding her panties up to his face.
And as I scrolled down, anger rose in my core and spread throughout my body, making my face flush and my extremities tingle with adrenaline.
Udall had been in her apartment at night.
He had taken pictures of Catherine as she slept in her bed.
I looked up from the screen and stared at him for a moment.
“What are you going to do to me?” he whimpered.
He was the stereotypical bully under duress. They act boldly and arrogantly, taking advantage of other people, but it’s all out of weakness. And when they are put in a truly weak position, they’re some of the most pathetic creatures that ever roamed the earth. Almost worthy of sympathy.
Almost.
I had thought of shooting his other knee. Maybe even shooting him in the balls. Drawing out the torture, making him feel the kind of fear that Catherine would have felt if she had awakened to find a strange man in her bedroom.
I could have done all those things, and more. Instead, I shot him twice in the forehead and left.
. . . . .
It was the first time I had killed anyone since the raid in Chechnya ten years prior. Directly and personally, at least. I was responsible for many deaths in the years between, but had not literally pulled the trigger on any of those.
I had vowed to myself years ago that while I wasn’t wavering in my mission of justice and retribution, I would only kill in self-defense. I held fast to that promise for a decade, never even coming close, never putting myself in a position where I’d have to use deadly force.
But this was different. It was personal. It was for Catherine.
Chapter Forty-Nine (Catherine)
I heard the click of the door lock, sat up on the bed, quickly jumping off when Pike entered the hotel room. I ran to him, throwing my arms around his neck. He held onto me tightly, kissing my neck, my cheek, my forehead.
“Miss me?” he said.
I laughed for the first time that day. “God, yes.”
He pulled his head away from me so he could look me in the eyes. “I’m back and I’m not going to leave you alone again.”
“Good.”
His lips pressed against mine, hard, a ferocious kiss that would have ignited a passion in me if he hadn’t stopped and said, “I need to tell you some things.”
In the span of just a few seconds, I had gone from elation to dread. The wild waves of emotion were becoming a constant part of my relationship with Pike. I could have feared it, pushed it away, seen it as a threat to my stability, but I didn’t want to give in. I wanted to push myself.
He stepped toward the bed, and sat, asking me to sit next to him. I watched his face become rigid and determined.
“Is this about tonight?” I asked. “Where were you?”
He shook his head, looking straight ahead. “I went to take care of something.”
“Was it…the guy?” I didn’t even want to say his name.
Pike put his hand on my leg. “It’s taken care of.” He raised his eyebrows.
I could have asked all the questions I had—which probably numbered in the dozens—but there was really only one question about the guy that mattered. I didn’t have to ask it, though. I could assume the answer, knowing that I was probably right. Plus, I knew Pike wouldn’t tell me anyway. He was secretive about the things he did that didn’t involve me, and his last comment was all the assurance I needed that I wouldn’t have to worry about the guy anymore.
That dark part of Pike had come out and got revenge for what had been done to me.
“Everything I’ve done for the last ten years…it’s over as of tonight. I can’t do it anymore. I’m about to turn thirty, I’ve dedicated a third of my life to this. It was time to get on with my life anyway, but things have become so complicated, so risky.”
“Me,” I said.
“You?”
My chest tightened as I felt more and more stressed by everything. “I’ve complicated your life. I know I have. I’m the reason it’s more of a risk now.”
“Catherine, stop.”
“No! I know it’s true. Whatever it was you did tonight, it was because of me, right?”
He didn’t say anything, didn’t even move.
“Am I right?” I demanded.
He nodded.
“So that’s what I mean.” I held myself together. I wanted this to come out strongly, firmly, so he would know how seriously I was taking all of this. “You put yourself in danger for me. And while I think that’s the most incredible thing anyone has ever done for me, I just can’t stand the idea that I would be responsible for anything happening to you.”
“I make my own decisions,” Pike said. “And so do you. I need you to understand something—”
I cut him off. “Do you understand what I’m saying? I can’t stand the thought of me being the reason you risk your life.”
His hands closed around my shoulders, then he raised one to the side of my face. “You are my life now. Everything else is done. Nothing else matters. Only you. I want to live a real life, and I want to live it with you. So come with me. And I mean for good.”
I felt my eyes widen. I cocked my head. “For good…”
He nodded. “I can’t stay in the U.S. anymore. I’m leaving, and I want you to come with me.”
“For good,” I said, echoing the words that had meant the most to me out of everything he had just said.
“I’ve done this for ten years. It’s time to stop.”
“You’re not saying this because of what I said when you first told me, are you?” I wondered if maybe my suggestion a while back that he could “just stop” was still on his mind. Although he had reacted harshly to it at the time, maybe he had given it more thought.
Pike shook his head. “No. I’ve come to this conclusion because I could go on like this forever…and I don’t want to. I’ve done my part. Now it’s time that I live a somewhat normal life. And I want you to be a part of it.”
My eyes flooded with happy tears and my face formed what I was sure looked like an impossibly permanent grin. “You’re serious,” I said, the thought coming from deep within that part of me where self-doubt lived.
“As serious as I’ve ever been about anything. I love you, Catherine.”
The words I had been waiting to hear. The words I had come close to saying first.
His lips crushed into mine before I could say anything. Well, clearly, anyway. I was saying “I love you, and I’ll go anywhere with you,” into his mouth as he kissed me, and against his lips. The words were muffled, but it didn’t matter.
We stood like that for a bit, and then I had questions. “So where are we going? When?” I had so many questions, but I managed not to throw them at him all at once.
“Can’t say where just yet. But we’re leaving in the morning.”
“What?”
He nodded. “It has to be in the morning.” He reached for me, pulling me against his body, kissing me.
I quickly thought, How do you prepare to leave for good, and how the hell do you do it in one night?
But Pike was already on it. “Is there anything that you need from your apartment? I’ll get it, so you don’t have to go back there if you don’t want to.”
My mind was racing almost as fast as my heart as I thought.
In the meantime, Pike asked about my passport.
“How did you know I had one?”
He smiled. “The polygraph. You said ‘yes’ and I figured you were telling the truth. Where did you go, by the way?”
“Canada. It was three summers ago and I used a week of my vacation time. I went there because it wasn’t as hot as D.C., but also I got to see a lot of the Toronto area. That’s where Margaret Atwood is from. So, yeah, my passport is in my apartment. It’s in a lock box in the closet.”
“I’ll bring the box.”
“No,” I said, shaking my head, working up my courage. “I’ll go with you.”
. . . . .
As we stepped out into the hallway, the door next to ours opened and a man came out.
“Pike,” he said, an urgent tone in his voice. “Oh…” he said when he noticed me.
I had no idea who he was. Pike, of course, hadn’t mentioned anything about him.
Pike looked at me and said, “Catherine, this is Chris Spencer. Chris, Catherine.”
Chris smiled and nodded his head once in my direction. “Pleasure.”
“Nice to meet you,” I said, looking at Pike, confused.
“Chris is my oldest friend.”
“And most trusted,” Chris added with a grin.
Pike nodded. “Yes, and most trusted. He’s been with me all of this week. And he was here all night, when I was gone.”
I looked at Chris. “Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it. It was nothing, really. You were very easy to babysit.”
I laughed. Pike rolled his eyes.
Chris had a great smile, wide with perfectly straight, white teeth. His hair was cropped close around the edges, very much a military style cut, very much unlike Pike’s hair. Chris had a loud, booming voice, and spoke in a quick, excited manner. Again, very different from the way Pike conducted himself. I thought about how these guys were nearly completely different, yet had so much in common and had obviously forged a bond years ago that still held strong. I had no idea what that was like and I envied them for it.
“So, mate,” Chris said. “This is the end of the road, as they say.”
Pike nodded.
I noticed then that Chris had a bag slung over his shoulder. He closed the door behind him, stepping completely out into the hallway.
“I’m heading back to pick up Stephanie. Should I assume I’ll see you in a few days?”
“Count on it,” Pike said. He looked at me. “We’ll both be there.”
“Be where?” I asked.
Chris smiled and patted Pike on his shoulder. “Just like Stephanie. Can’t stand a surprise.” He turned toward me. “Great finally meeting you, Catherine. See you soon.”
He started to walk down the hall, singing something, but I couldn’t tell what it was. He was too far away and his voice trailed off into an unintelligible echo as he entered the stairwell. He seemed relaxed and happy. More so than Pike did, which worried me a little.
“So, you’re not going to tell me where we’re going?” I asked.
Pike took my hand and we headed down the hallway. “Soon. Promise.”
. . . . .
As we drove to my place, my nerves were working overtime. It was infuriating to think that I was going to my apartment—the place I had called home for years—and that I was nervous to walk in there. The creepy bastard had alienated me from the one and only safe place I had in the entire world.
It made me think of how I had so quickly agreed to go away forever with Pike…wherever it was we were going. I guess I had done so because there was nothing tying me to my apartment, or D.C., or anywhere for that matter. I had spent the better part of the last eight years making myself feel at home in this area, but that could have happened anywhere.
“My job,” I said, as I suddenly realized I hadn’t thought about how to handle that.
“Already thought of it,” Pike said, concentrating on the road and looking straight ahead. “You need to email a resignation letter to your supervisor. Fuck all that two-week notice bullshit. It doesn’t matter, anyway. You’ll never need them as a reference. But you do need to make them aware that you won’t be coming back.”
“Right,” I said. If I had worked almost any other type of job, I could disappear without a care. But since I worked for the FBI, there was more of a risk that they’d take an interest in an employee who stopped showing up for work. “I guess I’ll never get to use my impressive lie-detector deception skills.”
Pike glanced at me. “Don’t count on it, as long as I’m around.” He grinned and his eyes returned to the road ahead.
Flirting. Exactly what I needed, even though it was only a brief respite because a couple of minutes later we were pulling up to my apartment building.
“My car,” I said, remembering that we had left it at the gas station.
Pike shook his head, frowning. “Sorry, can’t bring it with you. It stays where it is.”
I liked my little car. It wasn’t the greatest thing in the world—it had more than its fair share of problems and it was shaping up to be a money pit—but still I would miss it a little.
There was no activity outside the building. It was late Sunday night, going into early Monday morning.
“Let me go in,” Pike asked.
“I want to do this myself.”
“Okay,” he said. “But let me go in first, just to check on the place. Wait here.”
He was gone for five minutes. When he came back to the car, he said, “It’s fine. Go ahead.”
I looked out the windshield at the steps leading up to my door. “I’m going in.” I looked back at him.
Pike raised his eyebrows.
“I can do it,” I said.
“I know.”
I got out of the car and walked toward my apartment with quick, deliberate steps. I was pretty sure I wasn’t going to change my mind, but I wasn’t taking any chances by going slow or hesitating.
I unlocked the door and walked in.
The place seemed foreign to me. I had been here less than twelve hours ago, yet it seemed almost like it wasn’t mine anymore. Maybe because of what the guy had done. Or maybe because I was resolved to leave it behind.
Moving down the hall and straight for my bedroom, I got my lockbox out of the closet. Before closing the doors I took one last look at my clothes. Pike had already grabbed some when he’d been here alone, and I didn’t want any of the remaining items.
Back out in the den, I stopped at my little desk and turned on my laptop. I sent a quick resignation email to my boss. Then I thought of Tara. I didn’t have her email address, so I decided to text her: I’m quitting work. Sorry for the short notice and sorry that I didn’t get a chance to say goodbye. Thank you for being a friend.
She texted back almost immediately: Is this a joke?
Me: No, it’s real.
Her: Well shit, girl! Are you okay?
Wow. How to answer that, considering everything that had happened in the last half day or so? I thought for a moment, and then realized that the answer was so obvious that I had almost not even realized it.
Me: I’m fine. Better than fine actually. Best I’ve been in a long LONG time.
Her: Damn, I’ll miss you. Good luck and stay in touch every once in a while.
Me: I will.
I didn’t know if I would, or even if I could, but what was I supposed to say? Her next text contained an emoticon of a heart. I closed the message app and slid my phone into my pocket.
My bookshelves. I couldn’t leave without one more look at my collection. I walked over to it, dragging a finger along the spines of some of my favorites, taking a few off the shelves just to hold them one more time.
They weren’t just things to me. They weren’t just paper. They were things that had saved my life—or at least my sanity—at different times. They contained interesting people. People I liked, people I hated, people I could have been friends with, people I would have detested being around in real life…but all interesting in their own way, all having either taught me something about myself or the world.
Somehow, I would replace them. But there was one I couldn’t do without. I grabbed my copy of Cat’s Eye and slipped it into my bag.
It felt odd leaving the apartment for the last time, but I didn’t linger in the doorway, didn’t say “goodbye” out loud or anything like that. I did feel my throat start to tighten and just the slightest suggestion of tears preparing to gush from my eyes, but I took a hard swallow, blinked a few times, and fought them back.
What awaited me in the future held enough hope to eclipse any sadness I felt at abandoning my tidy little life here.
I locked the door, put the key under the mat, and left my old home behind.
Forever.
Ready for a new life.
Whatever it was going to be, and wherever it was going to be.
Chapter Fifty (Pike)
I sat in the car trying to deal with the fact that my worst fear had been realized—I had put her in danger. She was safe now, and I was taking extra caution to make sure that remained the case until we were safely on our way to our next destination.
I had thought about getting in touch with McDowell to deal with him in some way. I wasn’t sure what I would do if I saw him, so considering the fact that Catherine and I were pressed for time, perhaps it was best that I didn’t see him again.
Ever.
Catherine walked slowly and confidently down the steps of her apartment and back to the car. I knew then that she’d done just fine and that my concern about her being overcome with fear was totally unfounded. I always knew that she was stronger than she thought, and now I was realizing she was stronger than I thought.
