Hearts Under Siege by Natalie J. Damschroder Read Free Book Online Page A

“Fine. You’re part of the reason. You and—” Her throat went dry, and she stuck to the immediate topic. “And the fact that I was opening a music store. They needed a front in Boston and liked my legitimacy.”
    “But you’re not one of my conduits.” He paused. “Are you?”
    “You’d know. You’d have given me stuff, or vice versa.”
    He nodded and seemed appeased that her secret had been passive, not active. He looked as if he was about to ask something else, but suddenly, she couldn’t avoid it anymore.
    “Brady.” Her stomach clenched. “We have to talk about Chris.”
    “No.” His voice went hard.
    “You know there’s a reason we don’t know how he died.”
    “I don’t.” Tension and warning laced the words, but Molly didn’t—couldn’t—heed them.
    “The man at Jessica’s—”
    “Stop, Molly. Now.”
    “—was a facilitator.”
    “I’m not hearing this.” Cold fury now, and if Molly didn’t know him so well she’d be scared. Hell, she didn’t know him that well anymore, and she was scared. But she had to say it anyway. He had to know.
    “Christopher was an agent for SIEGE. He died on the job.”

Chapter Three
    Brady slammed on the brakes. The Jeep skidded on the uneven half-pavement, half-dirt road, its rear end sliding around to the left before he corrected and it came to a stop less than a foot from the ditch.
    He barely noticed. He rounded on Molly, the red haze back, this time fueled by fury.
    “That’s not possible.” He felt his lips curl back from his teeth in a snarl, the implications of what she’d just told him crowding into his brain, combining to form a ferocious buzz that drowned out whatever she was saying to him now. The roof and sides of the vehicle bent toward him, squeezing. Have to get out. Need air . He shoved out of the car and staggered a few feet down the road, oblivious to the rain that had become a downpour.
    “Brady!”
    Molly’s voice was faint behind him. He halted, pressing his hands to the top of his head as if that could stop the tormenting buzz, like a swarm of hornets. He heard splashes—Molly, running through puddles.
    “Brady!” she called again, then her hand caught his upper arm in a surprisingly tight grip. No, not surprisingly. She’d fought him, and matched him, even though as a conduit she wasn’t field trained. He thought about how she’d taken care of the weapon under his mattress, collected his things…hell, how she’d found him and followed him all day, when he was actively trying to lose her. And something in him calmed. Not a panacea, or temporary lid on the cauldron of emotion, but an actual diminishing of the swirl. He could think, and start to sort out how he felt and what he needed to know.
    He had a long way to go to understanding, to acceptance, but thank God Molly was here. He took in the dark curls plastered to her head, her blue eyes shining through the rain sluicing down her face. His mouth quirked at the thought—the same thought he’d had hundreds of times over the past twenty-eight years, when she’d bailed him out for doing something stupid, or helped him with schoolwork he’d put off till the last minute, or even talked down some chick he’d led on just a little too long. No matter what was happening in his life, her presence had always been a comfort.
    “Where have you been for the last ten years?” he said without thinking, and instantly cursed himself. He so did not want to dredge all that up now. “I’m sorry,” he said before she got past the hurt, so clear on her face, enough to give him a smartass answer. “I never should have shut you out like I did. I don’t deserve to have you here. But damn, I’m glad you are.”
    “Wonderful.” She tilted her head back, a sardonic twist to her mouth, and let the rain fall harder on her face to make her point. “Can we please get back in the car?”
    “If we have to.” A stupid gesture, meaningless, but he held her door for her as she