Ghostwalker 08 - Street Game

back into her life so easily. She’s made up her mind to stay away from me.”
    Kane tried to make himself smaller on the couch. He had a thick, heavily muscled chest and big arms. One kept flopping off the couch uncomfortably.
    “You know, Mack, things aren’t always black and white. Sometimes, for whatever reasons, we have to do things that we can’t live with. They just sit in the gut and keep you up at night. We’re all wired differently. You have a gift, something inside you that lets you make a decision and live with the consequences. The rest of us aren’t so lucky. Jaimie had to do what she did to survive. After what I saw in that compound with Whitney, if I could get out, I would, but they aren’t going to let any of us go. Not now. It isn’t about the money and training anymore. We’re too dangerous to them.”
    Mack was silent, turning the words over in his mind. Kane had come back troubled from his last assignment. Not only troubled, but suddenly very leery of every mission, questioning everything, as Jaimie had. Mack had known then that the questions in his mind, the doubt rising up with each new nugget of information about Whitney and his experiments, weren’t just because Jaimie had planted the seed and suspicion was growing.
    Kane and Brian had come to him, careful of what they said, fearful that they were on a death list and not wanting Mack to be there with them. He had gone up the chain of command and set into motion a hearing. He hadn’t been allowed to go with his men.
    “I’m sorry, Kane. You’re right. I should have listened to her. I should have investigated what Whitney was doing before I took us all down this path. Once we were on it, I just wanted us all to survive.” He had watched over them, trying to figure out what each of them had been gifted—or cursed—with and how best to cope with it.
    “We’re all responsible, Mack. We all listened to the propaganda, took the tests, and thought we were lucky when we passed. I can’t even say I don’t like my abilities.
    We were all lucky in that we can work alone. Most of the others can’t exactly survive on their own in the world. But something’s not right about any of this, and they know I went after Whitney and I’m not going to stop until he’s brought down. I think Jaimie knew it all along. She never trusted him. She kept asking us to slow down.”

    53

    “I thought it was the violence. She’s always been squeamish about violence.”
    Mack inhaled her feminine scent and nuzzled the soft mass of curls. He’d even loved that about her. The trait seemed soft like Jaimie and made him feel all the more protective of her. He’d been in that position since they were children and it seemed natural and right. He led. She followed. Except she hadn’t followed him this time; she’d run. Fast. Far.
    He’d kept track of her. He’d used his connections and he’d known her last residence before she’d moved here, to San Francisco. He would have found her here as well. Because Jaimie Fielding wasn’t going to get away from him any more than the GhostWalkers were going to get away from the government. They’d known going in: once a GhostWalker, always a GhostWalker. Kane was right. They were just too damn dangerous to lose track of.
    “You all right, Kane?” He asked in the darkness the words he could never seem to ask in the light of day. Kane wasn’t always a sharing man.
    There was a long silence and then a sigh. “I don’t know. I did some things—bad things. Things I’m ashamed of and I can’t take back.”
    Mack held his breath. Kane never talked about those weeks in Whitney’s facility and what he’d had to do to survive. Mack waited. Hoped. Sent up a silent prayer that Kane would keep talking.
    “I hurt a woman, Mack. I did my best to help her, but still, she suffered because of me. I have to live with that. I don’t know where she is, but she’s carrying my child.”
    Mack’s heart nearly stopped beating. “Are you certain, Kane?”
    “Yeah. I’m certain. She’s out there somewhere, unprotected. On the run. Hiding from Whitney. Probably hiding from me.”
    “And you want to find her?” Mack asked cautiously. The news was more disturbing than he could almost believe. Kane. A woman. A child. Kane saying a woman suffered on his account. He wanted more of an explanation, but with Kane, one waited until he volunteered the information.
    “I have to find her. She’s carrying my child.” There was