Before Sunrise Page 4

  “Not now, Drake!” snapped Alex.

  Eric exhaled and dipped his head, averting his gaze.

  Liam frowned. Since when does Eric take orders from her? And what were they not telling him? He saw Vasquez smile and nod encouragement, and that alleviated some of his fears. Liam wanted to shout it to the world: he had a baby girl with Kennedy’s beauty and his kick-ass personality. It blew his mind.

  Alex rubbed his hand. She kissed his bruised knuckles then leaned in and kissed his cheek, then lips. “Get some rest, you. We’ll meet with you soon.”

  Liam nodded, letting a tear roll down his itchy face. He released a tear of joy to be free and able to return to his beloved wife and baby girl.

  He watched as his three friends, the men, and the woman, he considered brothers, stepped out of the suite and into the narrow passageway beyond. Liam held his neck up with fading strength, keeping them in his line of sight as long as possible. The exertion drained the last of his limited energy. He let his head fall back against the pillow and sleep came almost instantly.

  ***

  Once in Vasquez’s assigned quarters, Alexa turned on Eric, her eyes narrowed with fury. “Why did you do that?”

  Eric chose a mug, wishing he had some Scotch to pour into it. He opted for coffee instead. Vasquez looked on in silence. He sipped, giving himself time, then turned to address her directly. “The man isn’t stupid. It’s not like he didn’t know Kennedy was pregnant.”

  Vasquez cleared his throat. “The important thing is he’s awake. The doctors were right. He’s on the mend. Later, we can tell him what’s happened to his life in the past five years.”

  “Exactly. Later. Not now, Eric. Not another word of Kennedy until we get him well.” Alexa spoke as though she expected no argument.

  Eric looked first to Vasquez for support. “This is nuts. She can’t be serious!”

  “I’m deadly serious.” Alexa’s tone sharpened. “Do I need to make it an order, Drake?”

  Eric snorted, but leveled his gaze at her over the top of his mug as he took another sip. Alexa must have heard the jealous desperation in her own voice. She tugged on the bottom edge of her suit jacket and regained her composure.

  “It’ll kill him to know his wife abandoned him. He’s suffered enough. We’re dealing with PTSD here, gentlemen, at the very minimum. His recovery is now a matter of national security.”

  “Do you hear her?” Eric said this to Vasquez before stepped closer to tower over Alexa. “She did not abandon him. Why would you choose that word?”

  Alexa retrieved her cover and situated it on her head. “I have COD flight out. I’ll be back oh-six-thirty the latest.” The men stood silent. Her heels clicked across the linoleum and out into the passageway.

  Eric glared after her. “Ball-busting bitch.”

  “Careful, Eric. It’s your balls she’ll crush for sport.” Vasquez said humorlessly.

  Eric dropped down into the vinyl chair. He released the button to his suit jacket.

  “You know how she feels about Liam and Kennedy. Some shit can never be let go, bro. We just got to make sure Liam gets well before we lay the hard truths on him. PTSD is real. Our boy has been down for five years.”

  “That fucking appointment has gone to her head,” Eric stated, not able to let it go. Vasquez groaned his agreement. “Hell, it’s her orders he remain on this ship, out at sea. She’s purposely keeping Kennedy from knowing the truth. Liam isn’t going to put up with that when his strength returns.”

  Vasquez spoke up. “She’s right. It’s a matter of national security. We got to handle this delicately. If it gets out, where he was, what he was doing there….”

  “What we were all doing there.” Commander Jones, the silent observer in the room, turned. “May I make a suggestion?”

  The men looked up at him. He raised his coffee cup. “This is a celebration, gentlemen. The great Liam Flanagan has risen from the dead.”

  Eric let go of his attitude. “I hear you. My boy is alive. God damn, miracles do happen.”

  ***

  Watching his girls in the dresser mirror behind him, Phil buttoned his starched white dress shirt, then reached for his tie. Kennedy struggled to put Mackenzie’s hair up in a single ponytail. Mackenzie squirmed and groaned between her mother’s legs. Phil never understood the ritual between the two. If Mackenzie had been smart she’d just let her mother groom her spry locks and be free of the ordeal in a matter of minutes.

  “Mac, keep still baby. Be patient for mama.”

  “You two look beautiful this morning.”

  With Mac’s hair bow in her mouth and her hands full of hair, Kennedy lifted her gaze to him, curious. Phil winked at her and Kennedy smiled.

  Damn, she’s beautiful. He had fought hard and long to get her, and now she was his. The first time he’d been able to coax her into his bed had been on the night they wed, and he fucked her until she begged him to be released. He couldn’t keep his hands off her. Everything about her turned him on. She had eyes a tawny shade of brown under long sweeping lashes, high cheekbones and the sweetest, softest lips he’d ever touched. Not to mention her round ass, slim waist and heavy bosom.

  He wouldn’t wish death on any man, but secretly, Phil had never minded Liam’s demise. He remembered the first time he’d seen them together, the first time he’d ever seen Kennedy. Liam belonged to a newly formed joint-forces CT team in Virginia. It had been a ball, the night of the change-of-command ceremony when Baldwin had retired, probably six years ago. Seven, maybe. Liam Flanagan had paraded his arrogant ass through the receiving line, with his hands all over Kennedy. She’d been shy then, completely lost around the other couples. But she was by far the single beauty in the room. Phil had watched her do everything, from chew her food so delicately between those full lips of hers, to sip her punch, or snuggle under Liam’s arm and touch his chest and look up with starry eyes as he told one of his stupid jokes.

  Phil wasn’t a racist. There were plenty of interracial couples in the military. Mostly black men hooked up with German or Asian women. Still, he’d freely admit that it pissed him off when he saw a white boy with a fine-ass sista. And Liam of all people, who disobeyed every fucking rule put before him yet was steadily promoted for it, had been the worst offender of them all. Phil had asked around, learned how Liam had snatched her from her family at only seventeen. Phil had been so obsessed, he’d looked her family up. Turned out they were quite prominent in Connecticut—dad a top investment banker with Merrill Lynch in Manhattan. Liam married her quick and probably filled her head with loads of his bullshit.

  That night of the ball, when the opportunity presented itself, he’d followed her to the bathroom. He timed it perfectly to collide with her when she returned to the hall he waited in. Gave himself a chance to touch her. She smiled brightly up at him and he was done. That’s when he knew. She was special. Of course the SEAL team assignment to Fort Bragg after 9/11 presented an opportunity for Phil as well. In a matter of weeks, families were moved and men deployed. Phil seized the opportunity to follow. He hadn’t been aware of it consciously, of course, until later. The nation had been thrown into a state of emergency. The enemy had attacked them, their homeland. But all the same, deep down he believed she would be part of his destiny. He swore he’d have her one day.

  “You know I like your hair this way.” He turned and smiled.

  Kennedy glanced up. She had told him that Liam was obsessed with her keeping her hair natural and free of relaxers, which is why she’d worn stylish puffs and curly locks back then. Black women didn’t have to wear afros to be exotic or beautiful. In fact, Phil found it kind of fetish and racist that her white husband wanted her to remain ethnic. He preferred the relaxed, straight look. She was fucking drop-dead gorgeous with it cascading down her back.

  “Thanks. I did it for you.” She smiled sweetly.

  Damn right you did, he thought. Phil felt his arousal peak, but Mackenzie’s high-pitched voice sang out and threw cold w
ater over the moment.

  “Daddy, I want to go to the base with you.”

  Mackenzie smiled with deep longing. He knew she loved the royal treatment she got from being his daughter. He’d graduated West Point and gone on to Baylor, become the best defense attorney in the Navy JAG Corps inside four years and got stationed to Norfolk just three years prior to Kennedy’s arrival with Liam Flanagan. Now as a civilian consultant, he’d developed a reputation for having a swift and sure hand with complicated terrorism cases, which only added to his prestige.

  “Not today, sweetheart. I’ll take you Saturday morning. How’s that?”

  Mackenzie nodded and Kennedy sighed as the hair bow popped. “Oh, sweetheart. This is the second bow to snap this morning.”

  “Sorry, mommy,” Mackenzie said softly.

  Phil smiled. He’d have to give it to Liam, he did create one beauty in Mackenzie. Phil loved her like she was his own. Hell, he’d been there during her delivery, and when Kennedy felt too depressed to get out of bed to feed her, he’d come up from sleeping on the sofa to help. She later told him that he’d been the only person that didn’t remind her of Liam. Anytime she saw her mother, Kennedy could only focus on the woman’s longstanding hatred for Liam, and if she were with friends she knew of their grief. She’d once felt community with the wives on the base, but after Liam died, she’d only seen pity in their eyes. Phil had been chosen to be her anchor. Liam’s friends hated his presence. Eric had even taken a swing at him when he started coming around shortly after the news broke. But Phil never gave up. Kennedy had been the hardest to convince that his friendship could turn to love.

  It took him three years before she even considered the fact that Liam was dead. During the fourth year, she started to talk without injecting his name after every sentence, and it was then he made his move. By then Eric, Vasquez, and that cold bitch Alexa Sinclair were all giving him their blessing, anything to pull Kennedy back from the brink and get her to start living again. Damn, he could still remember the first time she allowed him to kiss her. He rushed to Tiffany and bought a ring the very next day.

  Kennedy reached behind her for another bow. “We’re going to take you to Auntie Harper to get this hair braided, tomorrow,” she said.

  “Nooooo! Please mommy. I’ll stand still. Please.”

  Phil looked at his cell phone and grimaced. “Something must be going down right now. I got a text from Alexa. She needs to meet with me. Looks like I will be late tonight.”

  Kennedy’s gaze shot up, alarmed. “Is it Eric? Anthony?”

  “No, sweetheart. It’s just the war, remember?”

  Kennedy smiled sadly. “How could I ever forget?”

  Phil hated moments when he inadvertently reminded her of Liam. He’d had her pull away from him on some nights and cry. When would the day come when the bastard was just a memory for her?

  Maybe she noticed. She flashed him a wry smile. “Well, at least I don’t have to worry about you.”

  Damn, she could say the sweetest things. If Mackenzie weren’t between her legs, he would be. He checked his watch. Maybe he could get some time in if he they sent her down for cereal. Truth be told, he had already fallen behind schedule. He picked up his keys and sighed.

  “Bye, Daddy.”

  “Bye, pumpkin.” Phil leaned in and kissed her tiny lips. “You be good in school, okay?”

  “Mmmkay.”

  Phil kissed Kennedy. She lifted her head and he immediately slipped her some tongue. Her eyes widened but her lashes fluttered and shut once she gave him what he wanted. “Wait up for me tonight,” he whispered.

  “If I don’t you will just wake me anyway.” She said.

  “Damn right.”

  “Oooooo! Daddy, you said a curse word. You owe me a quarter.” Mackenzie stuck out her hand.

  Phil chuckled.

  “What’s this? Money for curse words?” Kennedy frowned.

  “Daddy said he’s going to stop cursing because it makes you sad, Mommy.”

  “Did he?” Her brow lifted.

  Phil winked.

  “So he said if he curse, I get to make him pay me a quarter. Give it up, Daddy. You lose.”

  Phil reached in his pocket and found a quarter. Mackenzie began to bounce on her feet in anticipation.

  “Okay, let me get out of here.”

  “Bye.”

  “Love you both,” he yelled from the stairs, knowing life couldn’t get any better than this.

  Able to get a bow on Mackenzie’s head, Kennedy turned her daughter around and looked her over. “Perfect. You’re ready to go.”

  “I sure is.”

  “I sure am,” she corrected.

  “I sure am,” Mackenzie mimicked.

  “Go get your book bag and make sure your crayon box is inside.”

  “Yes, Mommy.”

  Kennedy lifted her weary gaze to the mirror. A woman she barely recognized stared back at her. Life had changed, she had changed, and sometimes it shocked her how much. She rose and stepped to her dresser. Her long bangs fell over her left eye. She did look different. The relaxed hair, the business suit: she had evolved. Kennedy sighed to herself. God had a sense of humor. She looked like her mother now. As much as Kennedy wanted to be different, a woman with her own identity, she’d become the daughter her mother had always wanted her to be. The comparison made her uneasy so she lowered her gaze.

  She needed earrings. She picked up her jewelry box and began to sift through the scattered assortment. She found nothing suitable.

  She went to her other collection, a small jewelry chest with drawers. Liam gave this one to her on their second wedding anniversary. Kennedy pulled out one drawer, then another. She had a million different pairs of earrings. She would need to get them in some kind of order. She found her pearls, but one was missing its security back. She removed the bottom drawer and dumped its contents, then started to sort through the scatter. A ring rolled out and off the dresser onto the floor. Her heart stopped and she bent to retrieve it.

  A white-gold band with a tiny solitaire half-carat cubic zirconia. She nearly wept at the sight of it. She remembered how Liam had presented it to her like it was the Hope diamond, behind her school gym. He’d told her he was leaving town and he wanted her to come with.

  He had drifted into her circle through a mutual friend. Liam had been only twenty-two then. And Kennedy’s friendship with Sierra, a girl two years older who had a thing for bad boys, put her in his path. Kennedy knew of his reputation for fights and brooding, but she didn’t care. One look at him and she had fallen in love. She did everything she could to get him to notice her. One day he finally did.

  Months later, under the duress of a separation forced on them by her parents, Liam proposed they run off and start a life together. She said yes without a second’s hesitation, and even when he tried to upgrade the stone, she refused. This ring became the most precious item she had ever possessed. She felt a stab of guilt to have it tucked away, discarded.

  Get a grip, Kennedy. Liam is gone. Don’t even go there again.

  Kennedy rose, swiping at loose tears. Funny thing, she always thought she would feel his death. They were so connected; she loved him so much that she would know in her heart when he was dead. He’d never felt gone to her.

  “Mommy, I ready! Why you looking funny?” Mackenzie asked, staring up at her mother.

  Kennedy was still holding Liam’s ring, the words of their vows now surfacing. Would the day ever come where she didn’t hurt or miss him terribly? She didn’t know how to make a life without him any more now than she did then.

  ***

  Liam lay there, deep in his thoughts. The room remained absent of light except for the fluorescent tube above and behind his bed. If there was a way to turn it off, Liam couldn’t figure out how. It annoyed him that after so long being chained to a packed dirt wall in utter darkness, he craved that same absence of light now.

  Vasquez and Eric had both come back, stopped by for a few awk
ward minutes. They offered a few noncommittal words and told him that they’d ship out tomorrow, but would return as soon as their orders allowed. He tried to ask them questions but he could barely get his voice to work. All he wanted to know was when he’d hold his wife and meet his child. Why the fuck wouldn’t anyone tell him that much?

  So he closed his eyes and conjured Kennedy’s face. It soothed him. Soon he was able to create an image of little Mackenzie. He saw her clearly. He opened his mouth and pushed on his vocal chords. After a few tries, two words formed. He was able to exhale and rush them out in a hoarse whisper: before sunrise.

  Chapter Four

  Kennedy would be late. Well, not entirely, but if she was to make it back to court in time for the partners she had to march to a tight schedule. She stepped through the French café in search of her best friend, her purse swinging at her side. Angelina was posted in their usual spot. It was a small table for two in the back corner of the restaurant, nearest the picturesque window. Her auburn-brown hair cascaded down her shoulders. Of Chilean descent, Angelina had the roundest, most beautiful brown eyes under long, upward-swept lashes. Even now, Kennedy marveled that she didn’t use a mascara brush. In many ways, Angelina reminded Kennedy of her girlhood friend Sierra, though Sierra wasn’t Hispanic. Angelina possessed the kind of beauty most people noticed. Petite, with a model-like figure even after carrying twins to full-term, she had the symmetrical mouth and nose that sweetened her features, and deep olive-tan skin.

  Angelina’s gaze drifted in Kennedy’s direction and she waved. Kennedy noticed she spoke into her cell phone. That phone was always connected to Angelina’s face, in one form or another.

  Kennedy checked the time. She had forty-five minutes, already counting down. As a legal assistant for Brahman and Goldberg, they needed her at their disposal. She remembered when she once had dreams of being an attorney. Those dreams changed when Liam’s death blew her world apart. It took all her strength not to lose the baby; the doctors had put her on bed rest almost immediately. After their daughter was born, it took more strength to hold her and not be reminded of all she and Liam would never share. After Liam died, school had never been an option. She’d devoted herself full-time to grief.