Page 1 of Lover
Prologue
Shannon 2010
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Heart hammering inhis chest, hands shaking, Shannon handed the attendant his ticket. The light on the scanner turned green and beeped, and he almost wept with joy. “Enjoy your flight, sir.” He nodded, took the piece of paper, and stuffed it into his jeans pocket, forcing himself to walk the long hallway to the plane and not run for his life, which was basically what he was doing. By now, Bruce would know what Shannon had done—that he wasn’t at work and he wouldn’t be coming home.
It had taken a year of patience and planning, convincing Bruce that he truly wanted to volunteer three days a week at a local homeless shelter. Then he saved every spare penny he could collect to purchase his ticket to freedom. His steps faltered when he remembered the last time he’d tried to leave. It was the angriest he’d ever seen Bruce, and that was saying a lot since the last three years of his life were consumed by his once-gentle lover’s anger and twisted pleasures. The early stages of their relationship were the happiest times of Shannon’s life. Bruce was gorgeous and kind; he listened to Shannon—seemed to support his aspirations to become a dancer and make a better life for himself far away from the home he shared with his emotionally distant parents that paid more attention to alcohol and arguments than to their fifteen-year-old son. Bruce was kind and romantic, luring him with promises of love and a life where they could be partners, equals. And Shannon fell for him...hook, line, and sinker.
He sucked in a ragged breath, barely biting back the scream clawing its way up his throat when someone bumped into him from behind. “Oh my, so sorry.” Shannon looked over his shoulder, nodding at the little old lady that grinned up at him. “Once the suitcase starts rolling, it’s hard for me to stop it sometimes.” She chuckled.
“It’s okay, no worries.” He exhaled sharply, the tension in his shoulders slowly releasing. He couldn’t be so jumpy; it might draw attention he desperately needed to avoid. But he couldn’t let his guard down either. Bruce and his driver, Tuan—also known as Shannon’s warden—could very well be in the terminal that very minute searching for him. Willing his body to relax, Shannon managed to put one foot in front of the other until he was tucked away in his window seat, his backpack that held everything he now owned under the seat in front of him.
The last thing he expected was the flood of emotions that slammed into him the moment the plane was in the air: Relief at not being caught this time and dragged back to Bruce’s condo—to be beaten and starved for weeks until he begged for mercy and promised he’d never try to leave again. Sadness for the minuscule amount of love he rarely received that he was now losing. Panic, frustration, and self-loathing...why? Now that he was finally close enough to the light at the end of the tunnel to flip the switch, did he really have the strength and courage to do so? How would he live? Hell,wherewould he live? He was an eighteen-year-old with no job, no home, no family or friends, and the few thousand dollars he’d managed to save over the past twelve months wouldn’t go far. He’d left his wallet in his locker at work with everything except his ID and Social Security card still inside. He’d removed the Sim card from his iPhone, stomped on it, and then flushed it down the toilet. His backpack held several changes of clothes, toiletries, a well-worn copy of Pride and Prejudice, and a cheap knockoff MP3 player he’d picked up at a shop in the airport since he’d left his iPhone in the cab, on purpose.
Reaching up, Shannon pulled the hood of his jacket over his head and leaned his forehead against the cool glass window, staring down at the specks of light as the plane climbed higher into the sky, carrying him farther away from Seattle. Tears blurred his vision, but he welcomed them. Finally, he was free.
Chapter One
Rory 2011
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Lying on his back andstaring up at the ceiling had become the norm for Rory as of late. Five years into his undercover assignment and he was no closer to discovering the identity of the person that had murdered the Langford couple, leaving their young son an orphan. Taylor Langford was no longer the scared child he once was either. At nineteen, he’d started college and was thriving. He had become a fixture in Frank Moore’s life, or Frank had become a fixture in Taylor’s—probably a bit of both.
“Fucking hell,” he swore. “How pissed off are you going to be when you learn the truth about who I am, Frank?”
Trevor Noland, a flight attendant with a bubbly personality, was Rory’s undercover alias—his alter ego—for the past five years. He’d been on the job for a little over a year when his first big assignment came down. He and his partner, Connie Gonzales, and an agent fresh out of the Academy were brought in and briefed on the Langford case, sent in to protect the boy, the cop, and the foster parents—all while keeping their noses to the ground, eyes and ears open for any clue to who’d committed the heinous crime. What they’d learned over the years was a fuck of a lot of nothing. Whoever left Taylor’s parents cold and dead on their bedroom floor was in the wind, leaving behind not one damn clue to his or her identity.
Graduating at the top of his class at Quantico and being one of the youngest and brightest field agents, according to his boss at the Bureau, were accomplishments he was proud of. Hell, it was all he’d ever wanted when he was growing up. One of the first things he’d learned on the job was to never get involved personally with a suspect, witness, or case. Yet all it took was one kiss from Frank Moore to make Rory forget who he was, why he was there. No one had ever made him feel the way Frank did when they were together, and that wasn’t just in bed. But this was his career he was messing with. So when Frank starting dropping hints about them becoming more than just casual fuck buddies, Rory had to bury those feelings and put some distance between them. Did he want more? Yes, he did. But he wasn’t about to throw away his career; he’d worked too fucking hard to get where he was.
One day very soon, he hoped, they’d solve the case and apprehend the murderer. Then Rory could be honest with Frank and he hoped—no, prayed—that Frank would forgive him, and they could take their relationship to the next level. But until then, Rory would have to continue to play the part of Trevor when he wanted Frank to see him, all while doing his job in the background just out of Frank’s sight.
Eventually he fell into a fitful sleep, woken up far too early by the beeping of his alarm clock. An hour later, Rory had showered and was sitting at the kitchen table drinking a cup of coffee thick enough to clean rust off a car bumper, when his roommate and assigned partner finally stumbled out of bed. Blair Cummings might be the same age as Rory, twenty-nine, but he didn’t look a day over twenty-one, which was why he’d been assigned to Taylor Langford. Rory did not envy Blair or his part in the investigation, not for one second. While Rory got to traipse all over the globe disguised as a flight attendant, Blair went back to high school and then college, playing the part of one of Taylor’s closest friends, Kian Douglas.
“Jesus, is this coffee or sludge, Landers?” Blair’s nose curled in disgust. He jerked the fridge open and grabbed the almond milk creamer. He poured a healthy amount into his cup, taking another sip and sighing. “Ah, better. So, what’s on your agenda for today?” Blair came around and took the chair across from Rory at the table.
“We have a briefing at the office in Dallas after lunch with the director and Gonzales, and then I’m flying out to Quantico for a couple of weeks by way of New Orleans.” He waggled his eyebrows. Cummings was well aware of the slight detour Rory had taken while shadowing Officer Moore. Every year before heading to Martha’s Vineyard with his father, the Stones, and Taylor, Frank would spend a day or two in New Orleans with Trevor.
Blair whistled low, shaking his head. “You naughty, naughty boy.”
“Whatever.” Rory snorted. “I have to spend three weeks catching up on paperwork and trying to close a few short cases while you get to go off to the Vineyard and soak up the sun.”
Rory knew it was the luck of the draw that he and Agent Gonzales, who worked her assignment as the Stones’ housekeeper, flew back to Virginia every year to work at the FBI headquarters, and Blair got to vacation on the beach.
“Hey, it’s not my fault I was blessed with good genes,” Blair shot back, standing and heading toward the bathroom. “I’ll be ready in fifteen,” he called out as he disappeared down the hallway.
***
Traffic in Dallas wasa nightmare. Some asshat had come off the ramp and shot across three lanes on the Dallas Tollway, and Blair had to slam on the brakes right as Rory was taking a drink from his travel mug. The rich, dark liquid, now seeping through the white button-up shirt he wore, was scalding his chest. “Motherfucker!” he shouted, glaring at Blair when he started laughing.
Rory’s day didn’t get any better from there. He and Gonzales were each handed a file on an open investigation into a missing persons case in Tacoma, Washington that was possibly linked to an unsolved murder in Portland, Oregon. “You’ll still be on the NOLA flight, Agent Landers, but instead of spending two days in Louisiana, you’ll be flying out to Washington first thing tomorrow with Agent Gonzales. I can’t stress the importance of this case enough. We need to solve this one—and quickly. Am I clear, Agents?” The director eyed him and Connie over the wire rim of his glasses. The boss was in Dallas to attend the retirement ceremony for an agent that lived locally.
Joseph Stalling took his job as director of one of the most prestigious agencies in the country very seriously. Rory had only ever seen the man smile a handful of times; he often wondered if his boss had any family to speak of as there were no pictures in Stalling’s office back at Quantico. Hell, even the crankiest agents’ desks were adorned with images of beloved pets—if nothing else.
“Of course, sir.” Gonzales stood and tucked the file under her arm. Rory nodded, standing and following her out into the hall. The heels of her shoes clicked on the linoleum, the noise echoing down the length of the long corridor they traveled to the small office they shared with Agent Cummings.
Consuela Gonzales, Connie for short and if you valued your life, was a statuesque woman with dark skin, high cheekbones, and long, black, wavy hair. She was intense and stunning, a tall stick of dynamite, both skilled and determined. She reminded Rory of the actress that played Letty in theFast and the Furiousmovies—full of piss and vinegar when challenged but fiercely loyal to those that earned her trust.
