Page 77 of Hot Pursuit
Like he’d gone back in time.
Nate was sitting on the grass, throwing a baseball with his younger brother while their sister was napping. She was only a toddler, a little girl, and their mom had wanted them out of the house. When a car pulled down the street, he remembered shouting for his mom.
Dad’s here!
Dad’s back!
He and his brother dropped their stuff and ran around the side of the house, toward the driveway. The car pulled to a stop. Their dad got out, stood up, and waved with the biggest grin on his face. Nate didn’t notice the other car, didn’t even see it, not until his father’s face snapped to the side, and his eyes widened in horror, but by then, it was too late.
Pop!
Pop!
Pop!
Three shots to the chest, just like that. No time to move, no time to run. His entire body flinched as each bullet sank in, red spray exploding into the air like a gruesome firework display. And then he dropped in what felt like slow motion, wobbling on his feet, falling to his knees, then teetering over, off balance as his shoulder hit the pavement and he rolled onto his back, twitching. And thenpop!One final shot, just to be sure. That one caught Nate’s attention. He whipped around, staring the stranger in his face as he rolled his window up and sped away. Those dark-brown eyes. That coifed black hair. That pale skin. That scruff. That scar on his left cheek. Nate catalogued it all, stored it for safekeeping.
His mother released a bloodcurdling scream.
The man sped off down the road.
Nate ran to his father’s side and covered the wound with his hands, but there was no stopping the bleeding. He gripped his father’s shoulders.Don’t leave me. Don’t leave me. His father opened his mouth, but there was only the gurgle of death as the life slowly slipped from his eyes. Nate leaned down, pressing his lips to his father’s ear, to make sure his spirit would hear.I’ll get him, Dad. I promise. I’ll make him pay. I’ll make them all pay.And then he sat in the blood, holding his father to him while his mother shouted his name. But Nate didn’t leave until his father’s partner finally came and ripped him free.
“They shot him,” Nate confessed, sounding like a boy—the boy he no longer had the chance to be. He blinked. The image of that day slowly faded, replaced with Jo, with the worried curl of her lips, the deep sympathy in her eyes. Her fingers brushed his cheek, catching a tear he didn’t know he’d cried. He cleared his throat, trying to force back the knot lodged in his neck. “We weren’t supposed to talk about it to anyone. The bureau covered it up, made the file confidential, need-to-know. Because they’d failed him. They’d failed us. And the hitman got away.” Nate released a bitter laugh. “I knew exactly who he was. I could identify him. I promised my father, Ipromised him, I would make the bastard pay. And he got away, because no one, not even my mother, wanted the truth getting out. She was afraid someone would come after me next. So, we buried my father, and we buried the truth with him. And the Russian? He rose in the ranks.”
Jo gasped, shaking her head.
But Nate needed to say it out loud.
All of it.
Everything.
“He’s the person your father is working with, Jo,” Nate said slowly, deliberately, not a single waver to his voice. Because she needed to understand. “And you are my last chance, my only chance, to do good on the promise I made to my father. To nail him.”
Jo opened her mouth.
Closed it.
Opened it. Paused. Licked her lips. “I—I didn’t know.”
“I didn’t expect you to,” he said, dipping his head, bringing their faces closer together, forcing her to look at him. “But I do expect you to do the right thing. Not just for me. But for you. For the world. He’s a bad man. And he needs to be caught. And you, your father, it’s the only way I see that happening.”
“I will do the right thing. I will.”
Her voice was firm. And he wanted to believe it.
But there was a kernel of doubt, an evil little whisper, murmuring that if he took Jo in right now, he wouldn’t have to have faith in someone else. He would know. The cards would be in his hands. The power.
“Please, Nate,” she pressed, fingers gripping his shoulders, trying to make him see, make him hear the honesty in her words. “I know you have no reason to trust me, we have no reason to trust each other, not when I snuck out in the middle of the night and you feigned sleep, not when we were both working our own agendas. But I’m not anymore. I promise, I just need time, and the space to do things my way. But I will do what’s right. I promise you, I will. I just need you to trust me.”
For some reason, against his better judgment, he did.
“Go.”
Jo blinked, not understanding.
Nate tightened his hold on her cheeks and pulled her closer. He captured her lips with his, greedily, hungrily, taking his fill. Her arms slid around the back of his neck. Their bodies molded together. They kissed like two people in love who didn’t care if the world caved in around them. Because they didn’t. And maybe it already had.
