Brody's Vow (Colebrook Siblings Trilogy Book 1) (11 page)

After putting on the protective sock around the stump that ended just below his right knee, he pulled on the artificial leg, standing to ease what was left of his tibia down into the base of the socket. The titanium-carbon piece that served as his new foot bent and flexed with each step.

Naked, he strode to the armoire that functioned as his closet, dragged out jeans and a T-shirt then put them on. He was on his way to the kitchen to find something to eat when Grits suddenly stilled and perked his ears, looking toward the cabin’s front door.

The back of Wyatt’s neck prickled, his training kicking in. He watched the dog closely, noted the alert posture. Then Grits let out a soft
woof
and ran to the front door.

On guard, Wyatt went to the window beside the door and pulled the curtain aside. Sure as hell, a figure emerged out of the shadows alongside the house and started across the lawn.

Curvy. Unmistakably female.

Brody’s houseguest had apparently tired of their brand of Southern hospitality. Where was she sneaking off to at this time of night?

I don’t think so, sweetheart.

Shoving on his boots, he reached for the door handle.

 

 

 

Chapter Eight

 

 

Trinity waited until it was full dark before carefully easing her bedroom door open. The hours she’d spent waiting to ensure that Brody and his father would be fast asleep had felt like an eternity. It was nearly two in the morning now, and the house had been still and quiet for a long time.

Pausing by her door, she waited there in the darkness for a few minutes to make sure no one had heard her, then crept down the stairs, careful to avoid the third one from the bottom, which she’d learned squeaked. This short reprieve from her dangerous, solitary life had been unexpected and wonderful, but she’d been here a full day already and it was high past time she headed out on her own again.

From the minute she’d arrived here she’d known she had to leave within a few days, but this afternoon with Brody had clinched it. She needed to get the hell away from him before they got even more involved.

She still couldn’t believe she’d fallen asleep in his arms. In her entire life she’d never done that, had never let her guard down that much with a man. She could blame her serious lack of judgment on her injuries and exhaustion, or on her stunning reaction to his kisses, but that was a cop out and she had never been one to shy away from the cold, hard truth.

She trusted him. And she wanted him.

Trinity honestly didn’t know which one scared her more. That was all the motivation she needed to get gone.

A tiny part of her felt badly for sneaking out like this after all Brody had done for her, but it was necessary. Clean break. Move on. Back to the real world.

It didn’t matter that part of her wanted to stay in this idyllic place a little longer, or that she wished she could find out exactly where the attraction burning between them would go. Putting distance between them, figuring out a way to go back to her apartment undetected and getting out of the country before Tino or anyone working for him found her was her one and only priority.

Once this was over with, though… God, she was tired of running, of being used, of wanting a “normal” life.

She made it as far as the side yard when she heard a telltale jingle behind her. She froze and glanced over her shoulder. Grits was racing toward her, ears flopping up and down in the moonlight, mouth open, tongue lolling. Behind him she saw a large, familiar silhouette detach itself from the shadows surrounding the cabin.

Shit.

“Out for a little moonlight stroll?” Wyatt called out, his gruff voice cutting through the quiet like a blade.

Yes. To get far away from your brother.
“I’ve got things to take care of.”

He paused a few feet away and put his hands in his pockets. “Brody know you’re leaving?”

Pretty obvious that he didn’t. “Just tell him thanks for me.” She turned to walk away and the back door of the main house opened.
Dammit…

“Where are you going?” Brody said behind her, his voice accusing.

Trinity pulled in a breath and fought for patience. How the hell had Wyatt even heard her? She was stealth personified when she wanted to be, and she’d definitely wanted to be.

Bracing herself, she turned around to face Brody. And damn it, her heart squeezed at the sight of him rushing toward her in a pair of jeans and tugging a shirt over his head. She shot an annoyed look at Wyatt. “What are you even doing up right now?”

He shrugged. “I don’t sleep much. Grits heard you leave. Guess he’s a better guard dog than I thought.”

She transferred her gaze to the dog, who was wiggling happily in front of her, clearly hoping for a pat. “Thanks a lot,” she muttered to him.

Brody strode across the lawn toward her, the moonlight showing the frown on his face. “Where the hell are you going?”

“Town.” Where she had planned to steal a car to get her through the mountains. That would put enough time and distance between them so that she could think clearly again.

“And do what? You’ve got no money, no ID, no bank cards.” He eyed her, shook his head once. “Just how many crimes were you planning on committing to get away from me?” His tone vibrated with frustration.

Her jaw clenched. “I’m not ‘getting away from you’. I’ve got things to do and I have to do them alone.”

Rather than answer, Brody shot his brother a pointed look. Wyatt muttered a gruff goodbye, then whistled for Grits to follow him as he walked away. The dog raced after him, ears and tail flopping.

As soon as they were alone and Wyatt was out of earshot, Brody stepped closer, took her arm. Trinity tensed and pulled out of reach. He stopped, set his hands on his hips and looked at her. “Is this because of what happened earlier?”

She’d never admit that. “I have to get back to D.C. tonight.”

“To D.C., where everyone will be looking for you?”

She barely held her frustration in check. He was right, but she had to face the risk at some point and at the moment she felt the driving impulse to get away from Brody and what he made her feel. She already cared about him too much. “I need to get to my apartment.” The place she’d stayed at as herself, before adopting Eva Gregorivich’s persona.

“Why?” A demand, not a question.

“I need some things there to get out of the country.” She would have to do it using a new alias and the disguise she’d hidden at the apartment.

His expression grew even more troubled. “Why not contact whoever hired you for help? You did the job, so surely they could grab whatever you need or arrange to get you out of the country safely.”

“They won’t.” That was made crystal clear to her before she’d signed the contract. Which they’d no doubt disposed of by now. “Because I was seen, I’ve burned all my bridges with the people who hired me. There’s no one to help me, I have to go back and do this myself.”

Brody folded his arms across his chest, the move drawing her unwilling gaze to the mouthwatering size and shape of his body. “I don’t like the thought of you going back there alone.”

“I can take care of myself. Been doing it a long time.”

“Yeah. But you don’t need do it alone this time. You’ve got me.”

For a moment she was too stunned to speak. “You don’t even know me,” she said finally, unable to keep the rough edge out of her voice. The way he freely offered to step up and help her made her feel raw, vulnerable even.

He shrugged a thick shoulder. “I know enough.”

“No, you really don’t. So thank you for everything you’ve done, but I won’t let you do more.”

He raised an eyebrow, his gaze pinning her in place. “Who says you’ve got a choice in the matter? I’m already involved and I intend to see this through, at least make sure you get out of D.C. safely. I’ve got contacts I can reach out to, they can help us—”


No
.” It was unbelievable that he’d do this. To risk so much. His family was here and he was supposed to be recuperating from his injury.

He settled a warm palm on the side of her face, the gesture protective, tender. It turned her heart over. “Hasn’t there ever been anyone who cared about you? Anyone who was willing to watch your back?”

Just my Valkyrie sisters.
She was desperate enough to contact them but Briar was in L.A., and last she’d heard, Georgia was in Cuba. Both were too far away to help her.

Unable to find her voice because of the sudden lump in her throat, she shook her head.

Brody lowered his hand and she missed his touch immediately. “Well, like I said. You’ve got me this time. I’ll drive you back once we come up with a plan. And I’m not up to planning something like that at the moment—it’s two in the damn morning. Come on.” He pivoted and began walking away.

She had to put a stop to this hero complex thing he had going. It was too crazy. “Brody.”

“What?” He didn’t bother turning around.

“I can’t let you do this.”

“Sorry, not changing my mind.”

She hit him where she knew it would hurt. “Your family needs you. They’ve suffered enough without anything else happening to you.”

He stopped, slowly turned back to face her. “Yeah, they have. But that also means they’ll understand because they wouldn’t want you to go back and face this thing alone.”

She threw her hands up in exasperation. “God, you’re so freaking stubborn!”

“Yep. Now come on.”

She stared after him for a long moment, silently stewing. The element of surprise she’d been so certain she had was long gone. Even if she made a break for it now, she wouldn’t make it to the end of the driveway before he caught her, bum leg or not. And dammit, he’d hit her where it hurt too, by telling her she didn’t have to go it alone this time. Had he sensed her loneliness somehow? She would rather die than have him pity her.

Huffing out an annoyed breath, she grudgingly followed. “Where are we going?” she grumbled, frowning as she followed him across the lush back lawn toward the horse paddock behind the house.

“For a walk.”

“A walk?” Was he serious?

“My leg’s stiffened up.”

For a fleeting moment she considered running for it, then felt bad, gave in and followed. She caught up to him in just a few strides and walked next to him, comforted by the weight of the pistol she’d tucked into the back of her waistband. She’d lived most of her life looking over her shoulder everywhere she went and it was no different here, even with Brody beside her. “How were you wounded?”

“During an op in Jordan this past January. The entire team was in a tight spot and I caught a bullet during the firefight before we got evacuated.”

She eyed his legs as he walked, noted the increased hitch in his stride. “How bad was it?”

“Still got my leg,” he answered, as if that said everything. “I’m missing a chunk of muscle in my thigh, but I can still get by.”

Not something minor, then. He’d have had at least one surgery to repair the damage. “So you’ll be able to rejoin your team one day?”

“Not sure yet, but I sure as hell hope so.” He stopped at the fence beyond the cabin where Wyatt lived, laid his forearms on the top rail. Two horses wandered toward them, ears pricked. “While we’re sharing information, what’s a Valkyrie?”

“The same thing as Briar.”

“Which is?”

She cast him a measured glance. “Matt never told you?”

He shook his head, his eyes intent on her. His nearness was affecting her, impossible to ignore. Strong and capable. “I know she works for the NSA and can handle herself in the field with a long gun. That’s pretty much all I know about her operational capability.”

Trinity stared back at him, refusing to look away, trying to figure out what his ulterior motive was. Everyone had one. But again, telling him about this part of her past cost her nothing. Not given who he was and what he did for a living. Besides, he’d be gone from her life soon enough anyway, would never see her again. After everything he’d done and offered, it was only fair that he knew what she was and what she was running from because of the possible threat to him and his family.

The horses had reached the fence now. She began petting one of them, found it easier to avoid looking at Brody as she answered. “The Valkyrie Project was a secret CIA program that recruited young girls with no means or family and trained them to become assassins.”

She sensed his shock in the taut silence that spread between them but he didn’t say anything, so she continued. “They recruited me when I was nine, took me out of foster care and put me into the program. We had trainers from various SOF branches, and from every intelligence agency in the country. After graduation I worked for them until I turned twenty-seven, then went out on my own.”

“So you, Briar and Georgia are government-trained assassins,” he repeated.

She nodded.

“You said you’re not a designated sniper like the other two. Then what are you, exactly?”

“Pretty sure you’ve already read between the lines enough to figure that out on your own.” She cringed inside, hating that she cared what he’d think of her for it.

For a moment he didn’t answer. “They hired you to seduce Salvatori, so you could kill him up close and personal.”

She dipped her head in acknowledgement. “I came to D.C. a couple months ago and arranged an introduction under an alias I created.” The prep work for that stage alone had taken her months.

“Why do it?” he asked, sounding puzzled. “For the money?”

“Not entirely.” Though the money was decent and went into an offshore account. She donated a good chunk of it to various charities. In particular, one that assisted sexual abuse and sex trafficking survivors. A cause close to her heart. “I turn down more jobs than I take. I like being able to choose my targets.”

“So it’s personal for you.”

“In a way.”

She tensed when he slid a hand into the back of her hair, but made herself hold her ground and look at him. To her surprise she found not horror or judgment in his expression, but concern. “You said Salvatori was into sex trafficking. Is that why you took the job?”

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