Page 59 of Trapped
I nodded. She wasn’t far off. “When we met, I was deep undercover for a civilian black ops company. When I became Scott Miller for the op, Nathan ceased to exist. My survival depended on it, and it protected the people I cared about.”
She looked at my scar before reaching forward and grabbing her coffee. She held the tall paper cup under her nose, inhaling deeply before taking a sip.
Waiting out her obvious delay tactics while maintaining eye contact wasn’t easy, but I reminded myself that if I could go a week without sleep, I could wait another minute for Ashley to speak.
“Tell me about it.”
I’d get to that, but first, I circled back to her previous statement. “I couldn’t risk carrying Nathan’s phone.” God, it felt weird talking about myself in the third person. “It was in a locker with some other stuff I’d stashed, in case of an emergency.”
I could see her thinking as she played with the cardboard sleeve on her cup while she processed the extremity of my circumstances. Finally, she nodded, seeming to accept how complex the situation was.
“I had no right getting involved with you. It was stupid.”
“What the fuck does that mean? You think talking to me was stupid?”
How could one man fuck up so badly while trying so hard?
“No, no. That’s not what I meant.” I ran my hand down my face as anxiety started rearing its ugly head. “Talking to you,meeting you, was the best thing that happened to me in a long time.”
“You’re not making any sense.”
“I’m trying to, but you keep interrupting me.” I bit back. Once again, I wondered if this was a bad idea.
“Fine.” She dragged her pinched thumb and forefinger across her lips, zipping them shut.
Leaning forward, I reached for her hand like I had the night before. Only this time, she didn’t let me take it.
Hiding my disappointment, I continued. “It was stupid to risk your life. When you hit on me,” her eyes narrowed, “I thought I’d hit the jackpot. A one-night stand with a bold, gorgeous woman.”
I paused to let her respond, but she didn’t. Blood rushed south as I watched the sexiest shade of pink crawl up her neck and spread across her cheeks. Then I did what I knew I shouldn’t. I looked down to enjoy the same color spreading across the tops of her gorgeous breasts.
I couldn’t help myself; her curve-hugging, low-cut tank top framed them perfectly.
“My eyes are up here,” she said.
Reluctantly, I dragged my focus back to her face. “But the more we talked, the more we connected, the more I wanted.”
Her expression softened, confirming she’d wanted the same thing. Something I’d suspected from her tongue-lashing the night before.
“When I left your room, I didn’t think I’d see you again. I didn’t ask for your number because I couldn’t risk it being in my, in Scott’s phone.”
Ashley wasn’t stupid; she’d find her way to the reality of the situation without me drawing a map.
The next night, I’d broken my routine and returned to the same bar two nights in a row. It was stupid, and I shouldn’t have, but I hoped she’d come back. I trusted myself to play it cool,acting like all I wanted was sex, at least in public. Not willing to risk her safely, I’d kept a watchful eye out for my associates. If I’d spotted any of them, I would’ve called the whole thing off.
Sitting at the bar, I felt like I was being watched. When I turned, I saw Ashley staring at me. Her smile widened as sauntered over and plopped down on the empty stool beside me. Pride straightened my spine as my own smile grew. If I’d been a peacock, my tail feathers would’ve been on full display.
The doorbell chiming brought me back to the present.
“I shouldn’t have returned to the same bar. But I did, hoping you would too.” I sipped my coffee to buy myself a second before admitting, “I was torn between the desperate need to see you, and the sincere desire to keep you safe.”
Images of what they’d do to her, each one worse than the last, flooded my mind. My hands trembled. I ground my teeth. My heels bounced up and down.
It wouldn’t be long before my anxiety developed into flashbacks and panic.
I gripped the edge of the vinyl bench cushion. I pinched the fabric of my jeans. I picked up my coffee cup.
“What happened? Why’d you stand me up?” Ashley leaned forward, resting her arms on the table.
