Page 39 of Russian Rescue

“Care to loop me into your thinking? Because the way I see it, nothing is standing in our way. We’re not on Elite Stealth Force now, so we can date. You aren’t some elusive special operative jetting around the world anymore. I’m not some ‘kid’ anymore, or however you used to see me. Yeah, so I’ve got some issues with Russians hunting me down, but like that would scare someone like you away.” He scoffed. “So, if that’s not what’s stopping you, then what is it? We’re retired, we’re rich, we’ve got our whole lives ahead of us to enjoy all the years ahead after we sort this Russian shit out, so what’s the problem?” He lowered his voice. “Other than you’re scared of getting hurt.”

My eyes narrowed at the accusation... the accurate accusation if I was honest with myself. “I am not scared of getting hurt.”

“You’re not scared of much, Piper, but I know damn well how terrified you are of relationships. What I don’t know is why.”

With a sigh, I uttered, “Even if you’re right. Even if I am scared of getting hurt, that’s not the only reason this can’t happen between us.”

“Why? Tell me what the hell could be standing between us. There’s nothing you can say or do that will ever change the way I feel about you. Nothing.”

He says that now.

“Come on, Piper. I know you’re feeling shit for me. And I know you’re stopping yourself from going there. What I don’t know is why. Tell me.”

After a long moment, the fight fluttered out of me. My past did make me gun-shy about getting hurt, but my present was what truly stopped me from leaning up and capturing his kiss. Even though I’d vowed never to tell a soul, I hoped that just maybe, admitting my truth would cease his interest in me. Then he would stop his advances that had worn my armor down to the thinnest steel, leaving me exposed and vulnerable.

“I’m not exactly retired anymore.”

His brows pushed together. “You’re not? Oh, are those ‘side jobs’ you’ve been doing the reason you won’t give in to what you want and kiss me right now?”

I bit my lip, wondering if I should disclose to him, to anyone, what I’d been up to in my ‘retirement.’

“Is it bad?”

I shrugged. “Depends on how you look at it.”

His lips twisted. “What is it?”

“A passion project of sorts.”

“Passion? What kind of passion?”

“Do you remember how I told you that I was an orphan in Russia?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I wasn’t always an orphan when I lived here.”

He furrowed his brow.

“I was three years old when it happened.”

“What happened?”

“My father killed my mother and tried to kill me.” I was too young to remember anything other than fear and the blood, but that haunting feeling flooded back inside me, and the intensity of the memory almost dropped me to my knees.

“Jesus.”

“Yeah. Apparently, he beat the shit out of her regularly, and she’d begged the police for help. No one helped her. Then he moved on to me. One night, she tried to protect me and pull him off. He stabbed her to death right in front of me. The neighbors heard her screaming and burst in to find him holding a knife to my throat. They were able to talk him into letting me go, but he slit his own throat right after.”

“Holy fuck, Piper. I... I don’t know what to say.”

“I ended up in an orphanage here. The story made international news about abused women being ignored and men just getting away with it. I was in the orphanage for a year when a couple from the US saw the story and found out that I was still unclaimed. They went through the process to adopt me, and when I was almost five, they succeeded and moved me to the States.”

He furrowed his brow. “So, you were adopted and had a family? I thought the Elite Stealth Force only took people without strong family ties.”

The tiny lump formed in my throat once again, but I pushed it down. “They died in a car accident when I was nine.”

Sympathy flooded Wes’s eyes. “I’m so sorry, Piper. You’ve been through so much. I can’t imagine.”