Page 30 of Destroyed With You

Room service was as good as its word, and they had food and wine within minutes. He kept her silverware and poured her wine, then sat back to enjoy his fries.

“What else do you want to know?” she asked, after taking a bite of the burger. “This is really good. Thank you.”

He nodded, a bit surprised. “You’re welcome. And, honestly, all I really want is the truth.” He watched her face as he spoke. The dilation of her pupils. The way she didn’t even blink.

“I’ve told you the truth,” she said.

“Fine.” He leaned back with a smile. “Convince me.”

She shook her head, looking truly baffled. “How?”

“Details would be nice.”

“I told you. I shouldn’t have, but I did. I worked for the NSC and I was undercover with The Consortium.”

“That’s strike one, sugar. You want to be tied spread-eagled on that bed with no blanket and a lot of questions?”

Her brow rose and her voice was flirtatious as she asked, “Is that a promise or a threat?”

His entire body hardened from the image she’d just painted in his mind. Damn him, he didn’t want that. Or her. Not anymore. Not knowing what he knew about who she really was.

Slowly, he let his gaze drift over her, ending at her eyes, certain that his own were hard and cold. “Do not play with me, Linda. I promise you this isn’t a game.”

When she swallowed, he knew he’d won that round. Her jaw tightened, and he imagined it was taking all her effort not to snap back a retort. He’d do it, and she had to know that. He’d never been a man for empty threats.

“I’ve already told you enough details to get me in deep shit. I worked for a division of the NSC. You don’t believe me, call and ask. They’ll tell you I went on leave after my husband died.” She practically snarled the words.

“So you worked for the Consortium, and your cover was that you were a clerk in the mayor’s offices. But really, you were a deep cover NSC operative the whole time.”

“Finally. I was starting to think I’d have to paint you a picture.”

“Go on. Explain to me why I didn’t know any of this back then.”

“There are rules, Winston. You worked in law enforcement. Sometimes there are secrets, and they’re sacrosanct for a reason. Because if you spill a secret, someone can get killed.” She met his gaze, held it. “Someone you love.”

“Don’t talk to me about love,” he snapped, but he didn’t look away. Damn it all, even now he wanted to get lost in her eyes. Wanted to brush his thumb over her bottom lip and remember its softness one last time.

He wanted to touch her—and he hated himself for craving what he couldn’t have. More important, what he shouldn’t want. She was a liar, an assassin, and a traitor. To the country and to every sense of decency he’d once thought they’d shared.

“There are people out there,” she continued. “People who trade on power, who trade on pain. People who work in the underbelly. People who do things like torch a car and kill an innocent woman without a second thought. Back then, you didn’t even question that it happened to me because you knew that it could. And so much worse.”

His gut twisted, not because she spoke the truth, but because of the memory that her words invoked. The pain of that day. The horror of seeing what he had believed they’d done to his wife.

Yes, she was right. He’d never doubted that she’d died in that car. Never rebelled and yelled that people couldn’t do that to one another. Of course they could. He’d seen it dozens of times, so often he’d become numb to it.

But he hadn’t been numb that day. He’d hurt right down to the bone. Honestly, he still did.

“Some people don’t have a soul,” she continued, almost as if she were reading his thoughts. “And every time I went against them, every time I took one out, it chipped away at my own soul too. But it was worth it, because it was important.”

She lifted her chin. “So there you go. And it doesn’t matter if you believe that or not. It’s still the truth.” She held his gaze, her eyes dark and firm. He nodded. It was a concession he hadn’t intended to give her, but she deserved to know that, at least in this regard, they were on the same page.

“Is that still what you believe?”

“Of course,” she said.

“Are you still working for the NSC?”

“No. I told you. I do clerical work now. It’s dull, but I had my fill of excitement years ago.”