“Let’s just say that it was a case of mistaken identity. Amid all of the confusion, I convinced them I was part of the investigation.” A grim smile took over his face. “I’ve become pretty good at pretending to be someone else.”

“What did you find? I thought you said there wasn’t anything linking your father to what happened in Afghanistan.”

“There wasn’t, but I found a piece of paper with a city in Ecuador written on it. A city that I lived in right before I came to D.C. in July to check on you.”

Dread filled me as Matt gave a voice to one of my greatest fears, to the idea that someone would come after him again, that in coming back for me he’d put himself in even more danger. Maybe he should have stayed dead, should never have made his way to D.C.

“I think my father somehow found out I was alive. And seeing the way he died …” He cleared his throat, and I thought I saw a glimpse of a tear in his eye. “I think we have to assume that whoever killed him knows as much as my father did about me.”

“Do you think my father knows?”

If he did, there was no question in my mind that he’d have Matt killed.

“I don’t know.” His voice broke. “I think he would have given up anything at the end.”

I swallowed, a plethora of gruesome images coming to mind. Another chill spread throughout my body, and despite the August heat it felt like no matter what I did, I couldn’t get warm.

I was going to be sick. My conversation with Mr. Ryan at the Kennedy Center benefit ran through my mind again. Had he known the whole time that Matt was alive? Had he been trying to protect his son by keeping his identity hidden, or had he been biding his time, coming up with a plan to finish the job he’d started? Had he tried to have Matt killed then, too, or had it been an accident, a case of him not realizing that his son’s life was in jeopardy? That it was Matt’s unit in Afghanistan?

Did it matter?

And if he did know that Matt hadn’t died, did he tell anyone? “What are you going to do? What are we going to do?”

“I’m going to take you to the gun range this week after work and then I’m going to give you some tips on how to get into your father’s office. And I’m going to back you up, because there’s no way you’re going by yourself.”

I wasn’t going to argue that point; I was definitely out of my wheelhouse here. But that didn’t mean I wasn’t worried about him, that I wouldn’t have breathed a lot easier if he left town permanently.

Matt reached out, his fingers grazing my skin as he lifted my chin so that our gazes locked. “I promise you—I’m not going to let anything happen to you. I’ll do whatever I have to in order to keep you safe.”

That was what I was worried about. I didn’t want him risking his life for me.

“Are you sure it’s safe for you to stay? If they know you’re alive—”

“I’m not leaving you. Not until we finish this. You were right all along. We can’t get free of this unless we topple your father. When we have proof, when we can use it to hold him responsible for all that he’s done, for the crimes he’s committed, we’ll figure out what comes next. But right now there’s too much unfinished business.”

As far as plans went, ours pretty much terrified me, but I couldn’t see another way out of this other than confronting it head on.

“I’m here for whatever you need.”

He pressed his lips to my forehead. “I know. Thank you.”

“I’m sorry about your dad.”

“I know.”

“I heard that your mother was gone when it happened.”

“Yeah, I saw Capital Confessions. It looks like she was doing her annual spa trip to Switzerland. Apparently, she’s on her way back.”

Matt’s mom hadn’t been around a lot when we were growing up so it wasn’t like they were close, but I figured he still had to be worried about her; she’d lost both her husband and her son.

“Do you think she’ll be okay?”

Or as okay as anyone could be in these circumstances.

“Yeah. It might be hard at first, but you know how distant they were. They’ve been living separate lives for so long that I’m sure she’ll be able to move on.” He was quiet for a moment. “Did you see them? After they received news that I’d died? At the funeral and stuff?”

I nodded, surprised this was something he was ready to talk about.

“How were they? I mean, how did they seem to handle it?”

I felt a pang of sympathy for him, knowing he was really asking if I thought his parents had loved him, mourned him. The hardest part was that I didn’t know what answer I could give; I settled for as close to the truth as possible.

“Your mother cried at the funeral. Your father looked shaken up.” I laid my palm on his face, his beard scratching my skin. “They loved you in their own way. Even if it wasn’t enough and wasn’t what you deserved.”

Love was a funny thing in our world. If it was convenient, if it fit within the specter of power and wealth, then it was accepted, but if it didn’t, there was no question which would win out. I’d experienced enough of my parents’ marriage, seen firsthand my father’s infidelity with Jackie’s mom—who was probably just one in a long line of his mistresses—to know that love wasn’t a given. Those who had it were the lucky ones. Love gave you the kind of power that ruling by fear or amassing a fortune couldn’t touch. Power ebbed and flowed, money trickled through hands like sand, but love—if you kept it safe, guarded it, worked at it, turned yourself inside out for it—no one could take it away from you.

I stroked Matt’s back, my palms running over his powerful shoulders. I pressed my lips against his skin, inhaling his scent, savoring the feel of his warmth against me. With death swirling around us, this moment suddenly felt like everything, the need to simply stand together and breathe, overpowering.

“What can I do?” I whispered against his skin. “What do you need?”

“I don’t know.”

His hands gathered in my hair, pulling me even closer to him. I felt his body relax against mine as some of the tension slowly released, as he gave me the parts of himself that needed to be soothed.

Would we ever have normal? Would things ever just be good or happy? Or would this always be our normal? Did it matter?

I’d rather be in hell with Matt than heaven with anyone else.

“Tell me how I can make you feel better,” I murmured, holding on tight, knowing he needed me to be strong for him now.

“Just stay here,” he whispered against my hair. “Just be with me.”

I could do that. And more.

I pulled back, my arms drifting from his neck down to his shoulders, resting on his biceps. I pressed a kiss to the curve there, inhaling the musky scent of him, rubbing my cheek against his bare flesh. A sigh escaped his lips. Then another one as I burrowed into that crook between his neck and shoulder, my teeth nipping there before I sucked on the skin, my mouth moving lower, covering him in kisses until I reached the center of his chest. I tugged his shirt off; our gazes connected as arousal flashed in his eyes. I didn’t know exactly what he needed, but judging from the groan that escaped his lips, this was a good start.

My nails scraped down his abs, his muscles contracting beneath my touch, another groan coming from his mouth. I’d learned now that he liked an edge with his sex; that it was a release for him in a way that wasn’t necessarily physical. He struggled with control—over his nightmares, over the parts of himself he was clearly uncomfortable with, over his feelings for me. But this was the one place that was safe for him to lose control, where he trusted me completely.

So I gave it to him, using my body to shroud him in all my love.

I sank down to my knees, removing first one shoe then the other, followed by his socks. He stared down at me, his eyes dark, his Adam’s apple bobbing.

I reached higher, my fingers resting on his belt buckle. I undid his belt, my fingers trembling slightly—emotions bubbling to the surface, raw and unrestrained. The button of his jeans came next, and then I pulled the fabric off of his lean hips. I dragged his boxers down until he stood before me naked and aroused. My breath hitched, my nipples tightening, a steady throb building between my legs.