The Dom Identity (Masters & Mercenaries Reloaded 2)

But did distance truly take Vanessa away from it? She’d been in that craziness for years, and it had taken a toll. No wonder she’d fallen for a man who could protect her. Even if he’d been old enough to be her grandfather. She’d never had one. Not a grandfather or a father. From what he could tell, she’d never really had a mother either. She’d had a warden, and then she’d had nothing at all.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered the words and he meant them.

“It was part of the story,” she said flatly. “It was necessary.”

He intended to make sure she never went through that again. He would wrap her up and protect her and give her the family she deserved.

And maybe then, she would find a way to forgive him.

* * * *

Vanessa felt like the walking dead. Except they were probably happier.

A numbness had settled over her. Since the moment she’d seen the crowd outside the police station, she hadn’t been able to feel anything. It was like a wall had sprung up around her and nothing could touch her.

Well, except the insane woman who’d tried to pull her hair out. She’d screamed at Vanessa, telling her how she would go to hell for all the things she’d done. Her scalp still hurt, but it was a weak reminder of the fact that her whole world had fallen apart. Again.

She stared out over the balcony at the lights below. They were high enough that it was quiet up here. Michael’s balcony was bigger than some of the apartments she’d lived in while growing up.

It was so odd to think of how far she’d come. She’d gone from sharing a bedroom with her sister in a seven hundred square foot apartment to living in a mansion, and none of it had made her happy. Not until she’d found this place, and that had all been a lie.

It had been good to be reminded of what her world was really like. She couldn’t escape it.

She glanced back inside the condo. The lights were all on inside, and the place was full. They were all in there. Michael was standing at his dining room table like a general laying out battle plans. Deke was at his side, and MaeBe had shown up with her laptop. She was typing furiously as they all spoke to some other investigators over the speaker phone. Or the cops. She wasn’t sure. She’d realized quickly she wasn’t necessary. Not that she wanted to be.

She wanted to be free. She wanted to be one of those people twenty floors below walking the streets and living their lives without cameras in their faces.

“You want a beer?”

She gasped and turned to see Kyle Hawthorne standing there, two bottles in his hands.

Kyle grimaced. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m afraid I’m pretty quiet. It’s a habit. I thought I’d come out here for some peace and quiet.”

“With two beers?”

One big shoulder shrugged. “I also prefer a certain precision of movement. Two hands. Two beers. Less walking through that place and listening to some chick from New York talk about narratives and spinning things. She’s very interested in spinning things.”

“Yes, when I was in there she was telling everyone she’s got a list of things for me to do that she thinks will help rehab my image.” She hadn’t been able to breathe in there. She felt so fucking numb. “I don’t want to have an image.”

He held out the beer. “It’s not even poisoned. Promise.” He frowned. “Unless you don’t like beer. I can go get you a Coke or something.”

She reached for the bottle. It was cold, one of Michael’s. He tended to sit with her on the balcony after work and drink a single beer while she had a glass of wine. “I’ll take what I can get. Again, I’m sorry about the whole I-thought-you-killed-my-sister thing.”

“How about I forgive you if you can find a way to forgive MaeBe?”

Ah, that was why he was out here. “I can forgive her, but I’ll be honest, it would be hard to trust her again.”

“Then why bother to forgive at all?” He said the words softly, as though they were of no real consequence to him. He turned and stared out at the city. “It’s pretty up here. Sometimes I forget how nice it is to see things from a different perspective. It’s hard to imagine how peaceful things can be when you’re that ant on the ground running around like there’s no tomorrow. When you’re down there it feels like you’re the most important creature in the world. You have to get up high to realize you’re nothing but a cog in the machine, and you’re replaceable.”

Good. He was in a mood. She was, too. “I’d love for someone to replace me.”