Tyler (Blue Halo Book 6)

Emerson touched her paintbrush to the canvas. As Levi’s brown eyes looked back at her, memories skittered through her mind of the last time she’d spoken to him. Well, the last time she’d spoken to him while he’d been in his right mind. Just before the project was shut down.

“Em, what are you doing here?”

Emerson wrapped her arms tight around her waist, studying Levi’s wide eyes and tense muscles. “I’m here because I’m worried about you.”

She stood in front of his door, blocking his way inside. She’d waited for him for hours. Had been willing to wait all night if she needed to.

He wore a black shirt that bore a little emblem on the left chest. The emblem was a shield with an odd weapon running through it. One end of the weapon was a knife blade, the other, the muzzle of a gun. Levi had told her he worked for a military commander, but that was it. Rowan had told her the rest.

Her gaze traveled back up to his face.

His jaw clenched. “You need to go before someone sees you here.”

He tried to step around her, but she gripped his arm, stopping him. “I’m your sister. Why would it matter if someone saw me at your home? Are you in danger?”

“No. But what I’m working on isn’t public knowledge. It’s also dangerous. Go home, Em.” He pulled his arm from her grasp.

“Rowan told me about your visit last week.”

Levi stilled. Her stepbrother had contacted her husband. Not her. It still hurt. She understood Rowan and Levi had grown close during her marriage. Even now, they often talked on the phone. Texted regularly. But sharing important personal information with him—and not her?

She took a small step closer. “He told me you haven’t been feeling good. That you think people are watching you.”

“You need to go home,” he repeated in a tone so dark it caused the fine hairs on her arms to stand on end. But she didn’t stop. She couldn’t.

“Come home with me. Quit your job and let me take care of you.”

He stared straight at her, and for a moment, she almost thought he was considering her request. Then he blinked. The lethal hardness returned. “What we’re working on could change the face of warfare. It could tip the odds in our favor and ensure men no longer have to go fight losing battles. That soldiers don’t get so tired they kill their own team members.”

She flinched at the way he said kill. Like he was a coldblooded murderer, when she knew a part of him had died with his friends.

Her voice lowered. “You told Rowan that innocent men are suffering.” Another slash of pain that he’d shared the information with Rowan and not her. “Are you hurting people, Levi?”

Rowan said Levi hadn’t gone into a lot of detail. Just that it was called Project Arma and experimental drugs were involved.

Levi stepped closer, and she almost shrank back. He’d been so different since leaving the military, but the way he was looking at her right now…it almost made her think he might hurt her. But that wasn’t possible. Levi had always been her greatest ally.

“There are no lengths I wouldn’t go to, to make sure others don’t go through the hell that was Iraq. If that means a few good men are sacrificed so that many others live, then that’s just what has to happen.”

Even now, two years later, his chilling words moved through her mind like quicksand. She hadn’t known exactly what Project Arma was until later, when it had been all over the news. Before that, she’d thought Levi’s work was government sanctioned.

Had Levi known? Almost certainly. At least at the end. There had been something wild in his expression that night. Something so unlike him.

She believed with everything she was that he’d been taken advantage of. He’d been vulnerable and hurting, suffering from PTSD, and then he was fed lies about history never having to repeat itself.

She touched her brush to the canvas once more. She’d painted his image countless times over the last year. For this portrait, she’d been working on his eyes for hours, trying to get the shade just right. They were deep brown with specks of green. They were eyes she used to look at and see safety in. Sanctuary.

There are no lengths I wouldn’t go to, to make sure others don’t go through the hell that was Iraq.

God, she hated those words and the pain that came with them. Levi may not have been imprisoned for shooting his team members in Iraq, but he’d still paid dearly for his crimes. He’d spent two years torturing himself and mentally deteriorating from the guilt, and that was something Arma had preyed on. Capitalized on.

He needed therapy. And she needed to make sure he got it.

She smudged the paint in his left eye.

Some would never understand her need to help him. But he’d saved her from an abusive father, a man who still gave her nightmares even when he was deep in the ground.

A shudder rocked her spine, and her gaze flicked to the overhead lights. Still to this day, she couldn’t sit in the dark or in small spaces. Not after being locked in her closet for hours on end, beaten and bruised.

Taking a deep breath, she dipped her brush into the green and added more specks to his right eye. Then she sat back and studied the curve of his nose. Imperfect, just like the rest of him. Dented from a few breaks in the military. And his face… She’d drawn his expression like she remembered it—confused. Like he saw the world and everything in it as an enemy. As a threat he needed to conquer.

“What happened to you, Levi?” she whispered, wishing she could ask the man himself.

Her gaze caught on the little emblem on his shirt.

She blew out a breath and added some shading beneath his eyes before finally lowering the brush. When she glanced at her phone beside her, the ten p.m. readout surprised her. She’d been at this for hours, even skipping dinner.

He wasn’t quite done, but she’d keep working. He was forever her work in progress.

The phone vibrated, and she smiled when she saw a message from Mrs. Henry, the owner of the Airbnb. The middle-aged woman had stopped over earlier because the heater wouldn’t turn on. Apparently, Emerson hadn’t been pressing the right button on the digital thermostat. She almost laughed at her own ridiculousness. Mrs. Henry had been lovely about it, though. She’d even brought Emerson a basket of muffins.

Everything okay? Warm?

Emerson typed in a quick response.

Super toasty. Thank you again for coming, Mrs. Henry.

The house was kind of isolated and on the outskirts of town, but the woods and mountains made for a beautiful backdrop while she worked. It was a small cabin, the front door opening into the kitchen, which then shared an open space with the living room. There was no dining table, just a tall kitchen island with a couple of stools. Two bedrooms were right off the living room, one for painting and one for sleeping. So basically, it was perfect. She’d rented it for three months, because who the heck knew how long it would take the guys to catch Levi.

You’re welcome, dear. Have a good night.

She was just about to set her phone down when it rang. Jeez, she was popular tonight.

Her ex-husband’s name popped up on the screen, and she answered on the second ring.

“Hi, Rowan.” Even though she’d divorced the man over two years ago, they remained good friends. They’d been more friends than anything else during their marriage anyway.

“Hey, Emerson. I would ask if I woke you, but knowing you, I’m guessing you’re up getting lost in a painting?”

She smiled, rising to her feet and stretching her back. “Not lost. I know exactly where I am.”

Painting, though? Always. It was how she processed life. Her ultimate passion since the first paintbrush had been slipped into her hand.

“But you’re painting, right? Probably have been for hours. Maybe even missed a meal or two?” Amusement tinged his voice.

The man knew her too well. She stepped into the living room. “Did you call just to tell me how predictable I am? Because that’s not news to me.”

“No. I called to check in on how your meeting went today.”

Rowan knew everything. He’d gone through it all with her, both before and after their marriage ended. Witnessed Levi’s pain after shooting his teammates, saw him spiraling down in the ensuing years, then watched the man they knew almost disappear entirely while working for the commander.

“It went…” She paused, trying to think of the right word. “Okay.”

“Uh-oh. What happened?”

She pinched the bridge of her nose. “The guy basically told me everyone who was part of the project deserved to die, so I…I couldn’t tell him the whole truth. I let him believe Levi was a prisoner of Project Arma.”

She still felt awful about it. She hadn’t directly lied, but she’d let him believe the inference, so it was kind of the same thing, wasn’t it?

There was a beat of silence, then Rowan sighed wearily. “It’s risky to involve the team from Blue Halo if they want to kill everyone involved.”

Oh, she was well aware.

A part of her was always waiting for Rowan to outright tell her she shouldn’t be trying to help her stepbrother at all. The two men had been friends, yes, but Rowan had a strong sense of right and wrong. When the media exploded with details about Project Arma’s atrocities, long after the project itself had been raided and shut down, he’d cut all ties with her brother.

“It was literally a last resort. And Levi told us he never worked with prisoners, so I’m counting on these guys never having seen him.”

In the month Levi had stayed with them after Project Arma was raided, his mental health had taken a nosedive—before he just disappeared.

“But if any of them had caught even a glimpse of him during their captivity, and they remember—”

“I know!” she interrupted. “But what choice did I have? No one else can catch him. He’s too fast.”

Another sigh. “Do you need me to come out there and help?”

This was mostly why she’d married him. Because he was so incredibly kind and supportive. “No. I’m okay. But thank you. Are you doing all right?” The guy was knee deep in obtaining his PhD, something he’d been working toward for a while.

Her phone vibrated in her hand with a text message.

“You know me,” Rowan said. “Studying and researching hard, as usual.”

Oh, she did know him. The man lived and breathed neuropsychology. By the end of her marriage, she’d come to realize he loved his work more than he would ever love her. But she couldn’t really judge; it had been the same for her and her art. Exactly why they weren’t married anymore. Why they probably shouldn’t have married in the first place.

“All right. I’m going to leave you to it, then,” he said quietly. “But call if you need anything.”

“I will. And thanks for checking in, Rowan.”

“Of course.”

She hung up, expecting to see another text from Mrs. Henry. Her pulse jumped when she saw the name in the message.

Not Mrs. Henry.

Hey. It’s Tyler. Just wanted to check in, make sure you’re doing okay out there?

Heat danced over her flesh. She’d given his company the address of her Airbnb in paperwork she’d filled out online before her meeting. But even if she hadn’t, she was sure Tyler would have been able to source the information.

She typed, then retyped a reply, nibbling her bottom lip the entire time.

Hey. I’m safe and sound. Just painting.

There was something so sexy and seductive about the man. He was younger than her. Probably a good seven to eight years younger. Not to mention gorgeous. So she was pretty sure he didn’t feel the same attraction. Hell, he probably had twenty-something-year-old models vying for his attention.

Her phone vibrated again.

Good. We’re going to start trailing you tomorrow. I thought I might pick you up and show you the town. Is that okay?

Him and her. Together. All day. Her mouth went dry. She’d thought he would tail her from a distance.

Her attention drew back to the painting before typing out a response.

Sounds great. Although, could we make it afternoon? I’ve still got some more painting to do tonight.

She’d always been a night owl. That was when she did her best work.

Done. I’ve got a couple of meetings in the morning, so that works well. If you need anything before then, call.

Man, she should really stay away from him. Something told her he’d be too easy to fall for. And considering she’d been less than honest at their meeting, that was not a good idea.

I will. Thank you for checking in.

His response was instant.

Sleep well, Emerson.

Her heart gave a little trill. Oh God, she was screwed.

She was still smiling down at her phone when a rustling noise sounded from outside the house. With a frown, she looked out the window but saw nothing in the dark.

Was that an animal? Probably. There’d be plenty around here.

She was just turning back to the painting when it sounded again. Except this time, her skin tingled.

Something that always happened when Levi was close. Apprehension trickled up her spine.

Switching on her cell’s flashlight feature, she moved to the front door and stepped out onto the porch. Her throat tried to close, and sweat beaded her forehead. Christ, she hated the dark.

She pushed the fear down, focused on her breaths, and scanned the area. She had light. She was okay.

“Hello?”

Nothing. Not the rustle of leaves or a whisper of movement.

She took two steps off the porch, forcing her feet to move farther into the darkness. “Levi? Is that you?” She spun the flashlight around the nearby woods. “If it is, you don’t need to hide from me. I want to help you.”

One more step.

“Please, Levi.”

Suddenly the rustle of leaves sounded again, this time behind her.

She spun so quickly, her foot caught on a random branch on the ground, and she dropped with a thud. She barely paid attention to her aching backside, instead scrambling for her phone and shining it toward the house. But there was nothing.

Dammit! He was here. She knew it. She’d felt him.

Carefully, she pushed to her feet and headed back inside. She’d just shut and locked the door when she saw it. A notepad on the otherwise empty kitchen counter. And writing scrawled across the top page…

Stay away from them.