Any Way You Want It (Brand Clan #2)(57)

Remy didn’t respond.

When Keegan first came to him, he’d been tempted to tell him about Landis Kennedy’s violent past. The revelation would torpedo the man’s campaign before it even began. But giving Keegan that kind of ammunition would also thrust Zandra into the harsh glare of the media spotlight, forcing her to relive the nightmare of her childhood. He couldn’t do that to her. He wouldn’t.

Gripping his coffee cup, he brought it to his mouth and drank, grimacing as the strong brew hit his queasy stomach.

“By the way,” Keegan said casually, “I recently spoke to someone over at BCNR.”

Remy showed no reaction to the mention of the Board for Correction of Naval Records.

“There’s been some talk of reinstating you.”

Remy went still, but didn’t lift his gaze from his coffee.

Three years ago, he would have jumped at the chance to be reinstated into the navy. But no longer. He couldn’t go back. Too much had happened. Too much damage had been done.

Keegan watched him. “You have nothing to say?”

“No.” Remy drank more coffee.

Keegan sighed heavily. “Well, that brings me to the other reason I wanted to see you today.” He paused, waiting for Remy to set down his cup and meet his somber gaze. “Lieutenant Shaughnessy was found dead last night.”

The news jolted Remy like a live wire pressed to wet skin. Stunned, he fell back against the booth and stared at Keegan. “Where?”

“In his apartment.” Keegan grimaced. “Self-inflicted gunshot wound.”

Remy tried to swallow, but his throat was too dry. Turning his head, he stared blindly out the window as dark images flashed through his mind like explosives detonating on a battlefield.

“He was a ticking time bomb,” he whispered hoarsely. “He needed help.”

“I know,” Keegan said grimly. “You tried to warn them.”

Remy hardened his jaw, turning from the window.

Keegan’s shrewd eyes probed his, seeing through Remy’s battle-scarred armor to the anger and grief that had haunted him for the past three years.

Keegan said quietly, “Everyone who matters knows you did the right thing that night in Fallujah.”

Remy’s mouth twisted bitterly. “For all the good it did me.”

Keegan, to his credit, offered no empty platitudes.

A heavy silence lapsed between them. A silence weighted with memories and raw emotion.

Remy drank the rest of his coffee and set down the empty cup, then retrieved two fives from his wallet and slapped them down on the table.

“Thanks for the coffee.”

Keegan smiled wryly. “Not if you’re the one paying.” He watched as Remy slid out of the booth and stood. “Lieutenant Brand.”

Remy met the older man’s concerned gaze.

“Have faith,” Keegan said quietly. “Everything will work out in the end.”

Remy’s response was a brief, humorless smile.

As he left the coffee shop and slid on his sunglasses, he wished he could share the commander’s optimism.

But he knew better.

And Keegan should have, too.





Chapter Sixteen

“So who are you leaving in charge of the agency while you and Remy are off on your love trip?”

Zandra sent an amused glance at Morgan Morrison, who was lounging in the visitor chair in her office. Morgan’s feet were propped up on the corner of the desk, showing off the red bottoms of her Louboutins. The razor-edge bangs of her sleek bob accentuated her doe eyes, and she wore a retro-print romper that was so haute couture, she could have been strutting down a runway in Milan.

“I’m leaving Christine in charge.” Zandra paused. “And it’s not a love trip.”

Morgan gave her a knowing look. “Riiight.”

Zandra deliberately ignored her, returning her attention to her computer screen. “I can’t get over what a fabulous job you did with my website,” she raved, admiring the ultramodern design that beautifully incorporated shades of pink, brown, silver and black. “It’s sleek and stylish and stunningly sexy.”

Morgan grinned, flashing exquisite dimples. “I’m glad you’re pleased.”

“Are you kidding?” Zandra exclaimed, clicking through the pages once again. “I absolutely love the new look.”

“There was nothing wrong with the previous design—technically. But I just thought you needed something fresher. Fun and edgy, but still sophisticated.”

Zandra nodded. “You definitely achieved that. And I love the teaser photos of the girls with just their eyes showing. Gives them even more of an aura of mystique.”

“Exactly. It’ll have users salivating by the time they click on the image to see the full photo and bio.”

Zandra grinned. “Brilliant, woman.”

Morgan preened at the accolades, folding her hands behind her head and crossing her legs on the desk.

Zandra chuckled. “You really ought to consider starting your own business, Morgan. You could offer graphic design services as part of your public relations consultancy.”

“I know.” Morgan sighed. “It’s very tempting, considering how miserable I am at Adventura.”

Morgan worked as a public relations specialist for a nonprofit association, a job she’d loathed for as long as Zandra had known her.