The Dom Who Came in from the Cold Page 2
Those doors were so familiar. The floor-to-ceiling glass with its elegantly etched words hadn’t changed since his Aunt Charlotte had redone the office when he’d been in college. He’d worked here the summer she’d overseen the renovation. The summer of chaos, as he and his brother had called it. They’d both been in college, and working for their uncle and aunt had been an excellent way to make some money and avoid working for their stepdad. Not that they didn’t love Sean Taggart, but the kitchen had been rough work in the beginning. It had been way more fun to watch Uncle Ian go slowly insane as his utilitarian office was transformed into something designer and chic.
Damn, but the world had been different then.
No. The world hadn’t been different. It had been him.
He heard the ding of the elevator and prayed it wasn’t anyone he knew. He still had time. He could turn and get on that elevator and walk out into the world and never be seen again.
He could call Drake and tell him to fuck himself and the whole Agency. He could reject this whole forced sabbatical and go mercenary. There were lots of groups who would love to put his ass on the payroll and let him take out all his anger in the most violent of ways.
His stomach rolled at the thought.
He could still see the blood on his hands. Julia’s blood. Still see the surprised look in her eyes as she’d realized he’d been the one to pull the trigger, and then an oddly excited light had come into her eyes.
Oh, you want to play, lover? I think I’ll like this game. You’re mine, Kyle Hawthorne. No little bullet is going to stop me.
It hadn’t been a bullet that truly stopped her. It had taken an explosion and a whole house coming down on her to end that wicked witch’s life.
Of course once he’d thought she was his future. He’d been a fucking moron, and many, many people had suffered.
“Do you think he’s going to kill you? I know the man seems scary but he’s not. The key with Big Tag is to give as good as you get. Like fight his sarcasm with sarcasm. When he asks how my broom ride in was, I smile and ask him if he rode in on the back of a brontosaurus from his age. I know that sounds harsh, but it made him laugh, and now we’re cool. I spent the first couple of weeks terrified by him, thinking he was this big bully, but he’s actually the sweetest guy.”
The words had been said with a slightly husky feminine tone, and when he turned, sure enough there was a woman. A young woman who looked like she’d walked off the pages of a goth comic book. She was petite, a good foot shorter than him, with two purple pig tails, and she liked black. She had on a black miniskirt with sparkly suspenders over a black button-up. Dark green leggings and combat boots completed the look.
She was absolutely nothing like the two types of women he’d been surrounded by the last decade of his life. Military women who kept things neat and clean and practical, or the sophisticated crowd he’d run in when he’d been a spy. Women who were polished and thought out every single word they said and action made.
The first he would have nodded and made some simple conversation with. The second he would spend some time figuring out to ensure they weren’t here to spy on him.
He had absolutely no idea what to do with the woman in front of him. “Uh, I don’t think he’s going to kill me.”
She was weirdly fascinating. And just plain weird. She had a messenger bag over her shoulder, and the wide strap was decorated with a bunch of buttons, one which proclaimed her the Mistress of Code. She seemed to like code and the color green since she had a big button with the words I Always Play Green and some weird figure on it. “Confident. I like it. Are you a client or a new hire?” She gasped as she seemed to think of something. “Or a new vendor? Because if you are trying to sell the big guy anything that’s not a lemon tart, he might kill you. We should rethink this.”
It was her smile that did it. A small uptick of lips that let him know she was fucking with him and probably fucked with every guy in her life. Not in a “I’m looking to screw you over, take your secrets, and then probably murder you on the way out the door” way he’d gotten used to.
In the “I don’t take life too seriously” way. Like the women he’d been friends with in college. The ones he’d been comfortable with in another lifetime. In the life he’d had before he’d so brutally destroyed everything around him.
He should walk away from this woman. He was toxic, and his world for so long had been blood and secrets and death. She wouldn’t even know how to walk in his world. She also wasn’t his type. The last thing he needed was even a casual flirtation.
“I’m the new guy.” He held out a hand. “Name’s Kyle Hawthorne. I’m starting in the bodyguard unit today.”
She was completely harmless. It wouldn’t hurt to talk to the cute goth chick while he was here. He wouldn’t be here forever. He was giving this two months tops. That should be enough time to satisfy his family and the higher-ups at the CIA that he wasn’t going to do something dangerous. And then he would go do something dangerous.
She reached out, that smile turning into something truly glorious. Her black-tinged lips spread and showed even white teeth, but it was the way that smile lit up her eyes that made him pause. “MaeBe.”
Oh, she was playing with fire because for the first time in months he felt his groin tighten as he took her hand in his and felt an actual fucking spark that probably wasn’t static electricity. He couldn’t help the way his own lips curled up, and the words that flowed out of his mouth could have come from his twenty-year-old self. “Maybe? I would say that’s a little presumptuous of you, but I think I’ll go with it.”
Who the fuck was he? He didn’t flirt with cuties. Not when information wasn’t on the line.
He didn’t want information from her. Not anything beyond why she only played green and what she was doing standing in front of an office filled with hardened ex-soldiers.
Her eyes rolled but it was softened with a laugh as she released his hand and stepped back. “It’s my name, Kyle. Not a prediction of the future. I’m Mae Beatrice Vaughn, hence the MaeBe nickname. My mom came up with it, and it stuck with me. I’m in cybersecurity.”
“Really? You work here?”
She pulled a key card out of her bag and held it up. “I do. I know it’s hard to think about. I should probably be getting ready to DJ a bar mitzvah or something. Or perhaps working in the dark corners of the web catfishing people for cash, but no. I’m here with the good guys. And don’t go with it, buddy. I only date weirdoes, and you, sir, are the boss’s nephew.” She looked at him critically. “You don’t look like the big guy.”
“Because he’s not my biological uncle, hence the we-don’t-share-a-last-name thing.” He’d been standing in this hallway for at least ten minutes trying to decide if he was actually going in, but now he found himself scrambling behind her so the door didn’t close and he was left on the wrong side.
She strode through, her combat boots clomping against the marble floors. “Huh. He told everyone you were his nephew. So you’re Grace’s kid?”
“I am not a kid at all but yes, Grace Taggart is my mom. But I do call Ian my uncle. It’s different when it comes to Sean. I had a dad. I didn’t have an uncle. I call Sean by his name since I was pretty much an adult when they met. Mostly.”
That seemed like a million years ago. A full lifetime he could never get back no matter how familiar this place was. The fact that a super-adorable woman with what looked like a banging bod worked here now was proof that the place was likely as changed as Kyle himself.
She turned, those dumb, shouldn’t-be-so-sexy pigtails swinging. “I didn’t think about that. You knew Sean before he was the Soldier Chef.”
He nodded. “Yeah. I knew him when he was the asshole who was trying to sleep with my mom. I actually called him that over the phone once. I hadn’t met him at the time. I kind of pictured him being this pudgy dude wearing khakis that came up to his nipples and had a pornstache. So I threatened him.”
That smile went nuclear again. “Bet you wet your pants when you finally did meet him.”
He hadn’t thought about that day in forever. He shook his head. “Not at all. I’d talked to him enough by then that I knew he was a solid dude. When I met him, we were at a hospital because my mom was in a coma. I hugged him, and he got us all through that and then we were family.”
Why had he said that? He was guarded. He didn’t blurt things out.
Her expression softened. “That’s great. It doesn’t surprise me Sean Taggart’s a good stepdad. Big Tag’s pretty much every sad-sack employee who needs one’s dad. Not that I would tell him that. Not the dad part.”
“You?”
“Absolutely. My dad sucks. I think when Ian picked up on that he moved into what he thinks is the big brother role, but he’s a dad. It’s probably because he’s got so many kids. They’re like everywhere. But you know that. You probably got to watch them grow up and stuff.”
He hadn’t. He barely knew his half siblings. He’d been around when they were little. Even when he’d first gone in the Navy, he’d come home on leave and he and David would take their younger sister and brother out to the movies and to baseball games, and then secrets had become his whole world and spies had replaced his family.
“I’ve been away for a couple of years. In the Navy.” He couldn’t tell anyone what he’d actually been doing the last three years of his life. Not even his parents, and definitely not his uncle or anyone here at McKay-Taggart.
He rather thought that was part of this whole sabbatical thing. His bosses wanted to see how wrecked he was and if he could still keep a secret.
What they didn’t understand was how far he would go to keep his family from knowing how badly he’d screwed up. His family didn’t know he’d worked with their CIA contact, Drake Radcliffe, for years. They didn’t know he had anything to do with the Agency at all.
They definitely didn’t know about Julia Ennis, and they never would.
“You don’t look military to me,” MaeBe said. “But then there are a couple of former CIA agents who I would never have guessed.”
It was on the tip of his tongue to argue with her since he knew exactly who she was talking about. Michael Malone and Greg Hutchins had been on a CIA Special Forces team. So had his Uncle Theo and several other guys who worked for McKay-Taggart. None of them had been operatives. Not a one of them had ever slipped into a bedroom and slit the throat of an enemy.
Now his Aunt Charlotte was another story altogether.
“Well, I guess being able to blend in is good for a spy,” he replied. “As for me, all I had to do was know how to swim and duck. How about you? You do not look like an Army girl to me, but I happen to know my uncle only hires ex-military.”
She frowned, though he still found the expression incredibly endearing. “There are a couple of us nonmilitary types. Me. Yasmin, the receptionist. Genny Rycroft has been here for years.” She waved as the door came open. “That guy. Hey, Beck.”
The man named Beck walked through the door. He was a tall, fit man who was probably pushing forty. He wore slacks and a button-down sans tie, and absolutely, one hundred percent was at least ex-military. It was there in the way he moved, in how his eyes had gone immediately for the dude in the room he didn’t know. This man had already taken in Kyle’s appearance and was asking himself if he was a threat. “Hey, MaeBe. Who’s your friend? Are you okay?”
And the man had assessed him properly. This told Kyle two things. One—Beck was trained and likely had been working for a long time. Two—MaeBe wasn’t trained in any way beyond whatever she did with code and whatever basics his uncle taught all new recruits. Beck was worried about her being with a new person, which also meant MaeBe probably didn’t have great instincts when it came to danger.
“He’s the new guy,” MaeBe announced. “Kyle. Grace’s son.”
Beck’s eyes narrowed slightly, and then he was all smooth smiles and relaxed shoulders. He held a hand out. “Of course. You’re Kyle Hawthorne. It’s good to meet you. Your mom and stepfather run my absolute favorite restaurant.”
He shook the man’s hand but wasn’t in any way fooled by the quick change. He would actually bet that Beck had been out of the game for years and that was the reason for the slight slip of the mask. He would also put money on the fact that this man had done his fair share of fieldwork for whatever intelligence agency he’d worked for. He wasn’t a simple soldier, but he’d been working here for a while. “Top is an amazing place. I’m happy to be back home. You don’t get that kind of grub on a ship, you know.”
Beck stepped back. “I heard you were Navy. Special Forces, right?”
“Spent a decade in, and now I’m planning on enjoying civilian life.” He hadn’t been out of the game for long. He’d lived in a heightened awareness for years.
Not that it had stopped him from missing the most important clue of all. It hadn’t stopped him from sleeping with the enemy.
“Welcome, Kyle. You’re going to enjoy it here. You’re going into the bodyguard unit, right?” Beck asked as he headed toward the inner door. He turned as he opened it. “That’s one floor down. I’m sure Wade will be happy to show you around. MaeBe, I’ll let Hutch know you’re here. I’ve got some data for you to look at when you have a chance.”
“Of course,” she replied.
But Kyle got the actual message. Beck saw him. Perhaps not all the information, but the other man had seen enough to know he was a predator and MaeBe was some sweet, soft prey who needed protection from him. She was too innocent to know who she was talking to, and he should stay away.
What Beck couldn’t possibly know is how little he wanted to hurt the woman in front of him, how much he wanted to protect someone for once in his life. Even if the person he was protecting her from was himself.
“Well, it was good to meet you.” He didn’t want to walk away from her which was precisely why he should and quickly. “I should go downstairs and find my new CO.”
“Wade’s awesome,” MaeBe said. “But I don’t think he’s in this early today. I think he’s taking his daughter to something.”
The door came open again and a pretty woman with dark hair breezed in. “Are you talking about Wade? He and Genny are going to be late today. Bella has a checkup this morning, and they both wanted to be there. She hates shots. Hey, you must be the new guy. I have your key card and a welcome packet ready for you. Don’t worry. I took the condoms out.”
MaeBe snorted. “But, Yas, that’s the best part.”
“Ah, that would be my uncle. I should have known he would have his own version of a welcome pack, but you should understand that I’ve worked here before,” Kyle said as the receptionist walked behind her desk and set her purse down. “I spent several summers trying to learn the weirdest filing system in the world.”
Yasmin opened a drawer and pulled out a folder. “Oh, you will find that Genny completely redid that system so it makes some sense now. I also took out the very invasive questionnaires. No one needs to know how you feel about vinyl records or whether you’ve ever owned a pork pie hat. The boss has strange ways, but I suspect you know that.”
He snorted as he took the folder that would contain all of his first day paperwork and security clearance. “I know it so well. I’ve had many a Thanksgiving with him. The key to any holiday with Uncle Ian is to set him up in front of whatever football game is on and make sure he keeps a beer in one hand and meat in the other. We have a saying in our family. Beware wandering Ians. He’ll show up in the kitchen and try to give my stepdad cooking tips, and that always goes poorly.”
MaeBe laughed at the thought. “Oh, that sounds like fun. This year’s my first Thanksgiving here, and I’m looking forward to it.”
“You don’t have it with your family?” he asked.
Her vibrance dimmed. “I don’t have much of a family. I think Big Tag’s orphan dinner will be way more fun than getting kicked out of my stepmom’s Martha Stewart holiday party for not wearing the right pearls. Anyway, welcome to the group.”
“Yes, welcome, Kyle,” a deep voice said. “You’re late.”
His uncle was standing in the hall that led to the main office. Ian Taggart. The man had been in his life for over a decade, and Kyle wasn’t sure how he’d survived without him.
God, he hoped his uncle never found out how badly he’d screwed up. “I’m twenty minutes early.”
His uncle’s lips curved up slightly. “Like I said. Late. Come on. I’ll walk you downstairs. You’ve got a shit ton of paperwork to do.”
He nodded toward the women. “It was nice to meet you both.”
MaeBe gave him a wave. “You, too. Let me know if you need anything computer-wise.”
His uncle started walking. He didn’t look behind him, merely expected Kyle to follow. Kyle did look behind him, unable to not take one last look at a woman who shouldn’t catch his eye for anything beyond how odd she was.
Oddly lovely. He was lying to himself when he’d thought she wasn’t his type. She wasn’t this version of Kyle’s type. She wasn’t the spy’s type. She was absolutely the dumbass college kid he’d been’s type. That Kyle would have fumbled all over her and tried to figure out how to work his way into her world. He would have flirted and plotted to get into her bed.
That Kyle had never killed a person.
That Kyle hadn’t killed the last woman who’d trusted him.
He jogged to catch up.
Ian stopped in the middle of the hall, whirling around and pinning Kyle with a death stare. “You’re not into my cybersecurity expert, are you?”
That was fast. “We were walking in at the same time. I just met her. And obviously she’s not my type.”
Cool blue eyes rolled. “Sure she’s not. Stay away. She’s a nice kid and you look like a rolling ball of anxiety and murder.”
Kyle felt his jaw drop. “I do not.”
“Get your shit together before you go after her,” Ian announced loudly and then started moving again.
“I’m not going after anyone.” No one in the world could turn him around the way his uncle could. It was oddly comforting. No one would fuck with him in his professional life. Drake might joke with him from time to time, but not in the way his uncle or stepdad would.